Faerie Dust Dead (The Luna Devere Series Book 2) (4 page)

Stunned by her revelation, I
could only nod. With a deep breath, I asked, “Why do you think someone would
steal your work from my shop?”

“That’s the tricky thing. You
see, while the faeries give me pinches of dust to include in my work, what they
give doesn’t affect them and their power. Such little amounts. They can’t offer
much, so I work with what I get, that’s why I don’t supply you with many works
of the fairie art.” Scraping her chair closer to the edge of the table, she
leaned forward and whispered, “Just before I’m finished with each piece, I add
dust to it, causing the glass to take on a glow. I’m sworn to keep that secret,
so be warned, you can’t tell anyone.”

“I had wondered about the glow,
but I’d put it down to the sparkle when light hit the designs.” The entire
scheme seemed weird, even to me, a faerie believer. “Why would anyone take the
window hangings? They’ve got a layer of glass on both sides with the faerie
image in between. Could the dust be collected by breaking them apart?”

“I’m not sure how successful
that would be. Maybe someone thinks there are real faeries in the images I
insert.” She shrugged, and I made a mental note to check my father’s journals
and read all his literature I could find to see if this was possible.

The remainder of the evening
was filled with Arianna’s version of folklore and faerie stories, the type of
stories that fill your heart with fear. She shared stories and her knowledge of
good faeries, tricky ones, and the very bad, vicious kind. One story of bad fae
involved kidnapping, and being held in their world, where torture was
considered entertainment. The story reminded me of Christians and lions in the
early days of Rome. Okay, so now I had to walk home in the dark. Yikes.

All I could think of, as I
readied to leave, was that I had a flashlight and nothing else to protect me
while I’d be in the darkness of the wood. Maybe I should have driven my car
over.

Too late to think about that
now.

I thanked Ari for dinner, for
her words of wisdom, and set off into the night.

The trip home wracked my
nerves. Ari’s tales stood out in my mind when I tripped over tree roots here and
there as I rushed along. More than once, I thought I heard sounds that sent a
chill up my spine. A growl here, a rumble there, and then there were the
footsteps that threatened to overtake me… By the time I’d reached my own
backyard, it seemed as though I’d been through a funhouse – without the fun.

Riddles waited outside the back
door, his ears flattened against his head. When I pushed the door open, he
scampered inside without a backward glance – some protector he was. I smirked
at the thought and turned to close up the house for the night. Something moved
in the dark, just beyond the edge of the rear floodlights. I blinked a couple
of times to assure myself something was there, but either it was a trick of
light against darkness or that whatever had been standing there had
disappeared. I shivered, locked the door, and headed upstairs.

The cat pranced into our loft
after he’d taken stock of the entire first floor. His usual prowl of the shop
and dining room had ended abruptly when I’d scrambled upstairs as though the
devil snapped at my heels. Once I gained the top floor, and my bedroom, Riddles
stood next to me, eyeing the closet contents, as if awaiting the opportunity to
jump into the space and make a mess.

The eaves of the loft were
stuffed to the max. I opened the slanted double doors and dragged forward two
crates that were jammed in the back of the eave. A thick layer of dust covered
them. I wiped them clean and read the label attached to each. One crate
consisted of my father’s personal and financial records, the other crate had
the word
Research
written on it
.
I shoved the first crate back
into the eave and unloaded the second one. Stacks of bound journals, loose
papers, and other work surrounded me.

Riddles climbed over the piles,
sending them every which way. His whiskers twitched as his investigation
progressed. I gently admonished him, scratching his ears as I studied the
stacks of papers, notebooks, sketchbooks and wondered where to begin. I had
organized his notes that were separated into subject categories. At the bottom
of the crate lay my father’s final book on faeries.

I withdrew the heavy, hardbound
book from its resting place and I ran a hand over the dry, old textured
leather, peering at each page as I flipped one after another. Dad had been most
interested in faerie habits, the way they flew, and how they acted. About
two-thirds through his book, the research took a dark turn. Creepy sketches of
weird beings filled the pages, followed by notations. Hand-written descriptions
of what the critters were and how they fit into fae life straggled around the
drawings toward the edges of each page. I shut the volume with a snap and set
it aside as I glanced at the clock.

The hour was late. I needed
sleep or I wouldn’t get up in time to make the many cupcakes I knew we’d need
for customers. Generally, I began the cupcake making process in the wee hours.
Once finished, I would take a brief nap and then begin work in the shop.
Tonight had been a late night for me. I wasn’t about to fall behind in my responsibilities
because Ari had aroused my curiosity and the woods had spooked me.

I’d settled in for the night.
Riddles lay asleep in his cat bed, and I remained wide awake, staring up into
the darkness. Sleep refused to come. I was wired, uneasy, and aggravated over
the break-in. Ari’s weirdness bothered me, and if I was to be completely
honest, I admit I was fearful of what lurked in the woods. The dark shadowed
form piqued my curiosity, even as it scared the crap out of me. With a sigh, I
mumbled, “I can’t wait for Devin to return home.”

*   *   *

I awoke when the alarm went
off. I’d eventually nodded off and was grateful for it. I left Riddles asleep,
and changed into baking clothes. After my adventures during the summer, I knew
I had to get dressed and not bake dressed in my pajamas even if I was wrapped
in a humongous apron.

Soon ready, I went down to the
creation station after checking the first floor. It seemed prudent to have a
look-see, especially after the shop had so recently been violated.

I hauled out baking materials,
readied the floor mixer, and dumped in loads of ingredients, special flavorings
and such, into the large bowl that locked in place and stepped away to let the
spinners do their job. When the mixture was ready for cupcake pans, I held each
pan under the extruder, filling cups with batter. While the cakes baked, I
mixed the next flavor, and so on, until I’d managed the number of dozens I
deemed necessary for the upcoming onslaught of visitors to the Junction.

The final batch of cupcakes
baked while I mixed bowls of tasty frostings. Bavarian crème and butter cream
were favored by the customers, so I made extra. All the while I worked, I
mulled over my father’s findings. Had I’d read everything he’d written, whether
it applied to faeries, or not? I wasn’t sure. A second look might be
worthwhile.

Soon, swirled dollops of assorted
frostings covered the cakes lined across the wide counters. I paced to and fro,
adding a smidge of something to finish each cake to perfection. Labels rested on
individual trays. I walked the length of the counter and read each one. Candy-corn
cupcakes filled the first tray while apple cobbler cakes with pumpkin-pie
frosting filled the next. Caramel covered coconut drizzled with rich chocolate
sat atop mocha cupcakes. The next few rows were my usual everyday offerings and
were laden with chocolate butter cream and white butter cream frostings. Topped
with sprinkles, flower candies, or marzipan cherries, they were a treat for the
eye and the taste buds. Several trays consisted of yummy red-velvet cupcakes,
chocolate cupcakes frosted with a Halloween owl design, followed by three trays
of carrot-cake cupcakes covered in cream cheese frosting and embellished with
an orange marzipan carrot. Pleased with the lot, I loaded tray after tray onto
the dumbwaiter and sent them upward.

At the top of the stairs, I
checked the clock and realized I’d have time to spare after transferring the
cakes to the shop’s glass cases. After the cases were filled with the first
batch of trays, I left the remainders covered up on the counters below and went
back to bed for an hour.

The alarm sounded just as I
dozed off.
Damn, wouldn’t you just know it?
I’d be dragging my heels by
late afternoon and there were journals to be reread and secrets to uncover. I
had showered, dressed, and was scurrying to the first floor when Riddles flew
past me. He stretched his fat torso as far as possible up the back door and
gave me a look that plainly held a dire warning if I didn’t open up and let him
out.

“You are one spoiled feline,
Riddles. I don’t know why I keep you around,” I muttered as he trotted over the
doorstep and onto the porch. He glanced back and forth, then vaulted through
the air onto the garden path and raced from sight. He was obviously on the
hunt.
For what?
I was sure it included faeries, but knew he’d never
succeed in catching one.

Dilly and Annie rounded the
corner of the porch and greeted me as I held the door open for them.

“Are the cupcakes ready?” Annie
asked.

I nodded and said, “I’ve
already brought some upstairs. They’re in the case. I’ll load the rest and you
and Dilly can take care of them. I made a few dozen extra, just in case we’re
inundated with customers. Let’s hope they don’t go to waste.”

Dilly popped her head around
the door casing and said, “You can always take them to the nursing home on
Benefit Road. The residents enjoy extra treats, Luna.”

“Good idea. Throwing them out
is so difficult for me. They’re like family.” I snickered as the two women
chuckled.

The phone shrilled. I left the
corridor and answered the call. Arianna was on the other end of the line.

“If you could find time, I
wondered if you’d come over later? I’ve found something of interest and want to
discuss it with you,” Ari said. “It’s important, Luna, or I wouldn’t ask.”

“Sure,” I said, “I’ll be there
by three. If we get too busy, I’ll give you a call and let you know when I can
get there. Is that all right?”

“Great, I’ll see you then.” Ari
rang off and I clicked the phone off.

Chapter
4

By midday, and with no relief in sight, I
sent Annie down to the creation station to have lunch while Dilly and I took
care of customers. They traded places as soon as Annie finished eating. The
rush had started earlier than usual, without letting up – and no wonder, the
weather was as bright as the foliage.

I breathed a sigh of relief
when the last busload of tourists drove off from the parking lot. When business
was good, I was happy; when it was crazy mad like this morning, the three of us
tended to race around without purpose. I chuckled and turned toward my helpers.

“We’ve probably got a small
window of time to get this place back to normal,” I said. “Annie, help me with
the tables. Dilly, you make two more urns of tea.”

With nods, both women got
started. Dilly clanged the urns as she washed them and set more tea to brew.
She filled a glass water urn with fresh cut lemons and ice water. With a glance
over her shoulder, Annie whispered to me.

“A stranger came in today. He
sat alone in a corner watching all that went on. He didn’t take his eyes off
you whenever you were about. At first, I thought he wanted attention, so I
asked if I could get him something. He then ordered a cupcake and tea, though I
had the distinct feeling that he wasn’t here for refreshments, Luna.”

I stacked empty trays and added
empty honey jars on top of them. I lifted them to my shoulder and said, “What
was his expression like when he saw me?”

“He seemed serious. It was hard
for me to tell, really. He’s a looker, that’s for sure.”

I grinned at her observation
and said, “Maybe was he simply enjoyed the goings on in the shop.”

The sound of breaking glass
resonated from the kitchen. Annie and I momentarily froze before we headed
toward the noise. I slid my loaded tray onto the nearest counter and stared at
the mess.

Her eyes huge and face pale,
Dilly gawked in horror at the flood of cupcakes that had hit the floor,
accompanied by my two most precious glass serving platters. Slowly, she looked
up. Her angst was plain to see as she exploded into apologies while tears
streamed from her eyes.

“Oh Luna, I’m so sorry. I don’t
know what happened. I guess I didn’t pay attention to what I was doing, and I
knocked them over.” Sniffling, Dilly brushed the tears from her face.

We were all weary – I knew I
was – and these two women were older than me. The pace we’d kept for the past
few days had been horrendous, and it looked like I was paying for it in more
ways than one.

“I’ll reimburse you for the
loss, Luna. Just don’t fire me, I need the income,” Dilly pleaded.

With a deep breath, I patted
her on the shoulder. “Take a break, both of you. Go out and get some fresh air.
I’ll bring you some tea. I’ve expect too much of you, and business has been
wild lately.”

In an effort to appease, Dilly
stepped from the debris and pulled the lightweight snow shovel from the hall
closet. I’d stored it in preparation for our upcoming Maine winter. She
trundled back into the room with a mop and bucket, as well. I put a hand on her
arm, took the materials from her and pointed to the door. “Now, Dilly, take a
break. I’m not angry. I’m more worried that I’ve been working you both into the
ground. I’ll get your tea and then clean this in a jiffy, don’t worry.”

Hesitant, the women left the
room and headed for the porch. Why I’d tucked the shovel in the closet with the
broom and floor cleaning paraphernalia, I couldn’t say, but it came in handy
now. I brought the women a tray of tea and cupcakes, shoveled the cupcake and
glass debris into a trash bin, and then tackled the thin layer of frosting on
the floor.