Holding Court (11 page)

Chapter Eighteen

Someone’s Got to Keep the New Nun Safe

We’re the only ones in the ER, aside from an elderly man snoring in the corner. It’s a quiet night in Candor County, apparently. A nurse checks me in while Grayson sits in the waiting room.

“What happened, honey?”

I tell her about my bike crash and show her my helmet. Grayson’s right; there’s a huge crack in it. I’m pretty sure my bike looks even worse. I have some ugly scratches on my arms and legs courtesy of the hedge, but otherwise I seem to be fairly unscathed.

“You’re one lucky lady,” the nurse tells me. “I’ll have the doc check you over, make sure you don’t have a concussion. You’ll want to file a police report about the accident, okay?”

I say, “Okay,” but I don’t see the point. All I can tell the police is that I heard a car and then I crashed into a hedge.

The nurse leads me to a curtained-off space where a doctor shines a light in my eyes, asks me a bunch of questions, and tells me to take it easy for the next couple of days. And to get a new helmet.

“All right honey, you’re free to go,” the nurse tells me. “We’ll let you get back to that cutie patootie in the waiting room. You’re lucky in more ways than one, sugar.” She gives me a nudge and raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah, uh, not really. But thanks.”

“Hey, how’d it go?” Grayson asks.

“I guess I hit the hedge just right. I’m supposed to take it easy and come back in if I have any emergency symptoms of concussion, but otherwise I’m good to go.”

We walk back to Grayson’s SUV and he waits for me to put my seat belt on, then pulls out of the hospital parking lot.

“I called your grandma, by the way. While you were with the doctor. I didn’t want your family to worry about you.”

“You did? Wow. That was really nice of you. Also, brave. How’d you get her phone number?”

“Um, 1-800-ROMANCE? It’s pretty hard to miss.”

I groan. “Have I mentioned I come from a family of freaks?”

“Yeah? Well, I bet you don’t have a booger-encrusted Hepplewhite at your house. My money’s on my little brother, by the way. He just turned five and he’s a big nose picker. He also likes to do what he calls ‘the nudie butt dance,’ which involves running around the house with his underwear on his head. Bet you can’t top that.”

“I don’t know, Gran does like to dance.”

He laughs. “You live in the pink Victorian just off of Main Street, right?”

“Yup.” The pink Victorian with the huge sign out front advertising An Aura of Romance. Just call 1-800-ROMANCE, that’s my Gran.

We drive in silence for a bit, but it feels comfortable, and I realize with awe that I’m sitting in a car with Grayson without feeling nervous or embarrassed or panicked. “Thanks for taking me to the ER. And for calling Gran.”

“Sure, it’s the least I could do after putting you in harm’s way.”

“My crash so wasn’t your fault.”

“Yeah, well, I was still an ass for not giving you a ride.”

“Consider yourself absolved of any assery.”

“Thanks. I’m glad we had this chance to hang out a little bit. I feel so much better now that I know you’re not a mind-reading cheater.” He flashes his dimples at me, and now I’m a little nervous because I’m looking at his mouth and all I want to do is kiss it.

“Um, thanks?” I say instead of leaping across the seat at him.

“Well, to be honest, I was more worried about the mind-reading than the cheating, but still. Color me relieved.”

I so wish I could read his mind. Because part of me wonders… I give myself a little shake.
Get real, Jules
. Taylor Swift said it best, Bree’s the cheer captain and I’m on the bleachers.

Grayson looks over and sees me staring at him. “Okay, now you’re making me nervous. What are you doing?”

Oh, you know, dreaming about the day when you wake up and find that what you’re looking for has been here the whole time. Except that aside from the cheer captain part, the girl in that song is nothing like Bree. “Just hanging out on the bleachers,” I mumble.

“Uh, is that some sort of indecipherable psychic message?”

“No, but this is, ‘My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die!’”

“Faker.”

“You’re just lucky you don’t have six fingers on your right hand.”

Grayson laughs, and I don’t want this moment to end. He looks so happy and being with him feels so…
inconceivable
.

“Are you working tomorrow? Or do you have to take it easy?” he asks when he finally stops laughing.

“I’ll be there.”
And so will Bree
, I remind myself, trying to quell the Taylor Swift video playing in my head. “I think I should talk to Hank about Sarah. And show him the clue Angelique found.”

“Clue? What clue?”

I tell him about Angelique finding the pearl before going into labor.

“Wow. You don’t do anything low-key, do you? Do you think the pearl was from the necklace you saw?”

“I think it has to be. Gran says it’s fake. I don’t know if that means anything or not. When Hank came into the shop”—I have a sudden inspiration—“wait a minute! Hank had on a heavy gold chain that my mom was drooling over when he came to our shop. It was the same kind of necklace Sarah was strangled with but a different design, and it was an actual piece of Tudor jewelry, instead of a reproduction. He was also wearing a fancy pendant that he’d commissioned. He was seriously pissed when Mom told him the jewels were fake. What if whoever sold him that pendant with the fake jewels, sold him the necklace Sarah was strangled with? That wouldn’t make him mad enough to kill someone, would it?”

“I don’t know. I can’t imagine Hank strangling someone to death. But then, I can’t imagine someone beheading their wives, either.”

“Or murdering them to start a war with Guilder, like Prince Humperdinck. You just never know, do you? Hey, what do you think of Floyd?”

“Floyd? You mean ‘the Keeper’? He’s a character.”

“He gives me the willies.”

“Bree, too. And she likes everyone.”

“You don’t think he could be a murderer, do you?”

“To quote my favorite swordsman, ‘Probably he means no harm.’”

“‘He’s really very short on charm,’” I quote back automatically.

“‘Oh, you’ve a great gift for rhyme.’”

“‘Yes, some of the time.’”

“You do realize it’s a veritable tragedy that our eleven-year-old selves never got to hang out, right?”

“Yeah, but we probably would’ve grown up to be total cosplay nerds.”

“Said the nun to the squight. Speaking of Tudor Times, let’s get back to Floyd. I guess he could be a murderer, but he’s no spring chicken. I kind of doubt he’d have the strength to take out a young, healthy twenty-something like Sarah.”

“Okay, but he’s still creepy. And he’s a self-proclaimed hoarder of secrets.”

“Yeah, Bree definitely thinks he’s creepy, but she still flirts with him to get the inside scoop on everyone he spies on.”

“Ugh. I think I’d rather remain ignorant.”

Grayson pulls up in front of my house. “Here we are, Buttercup. Want a ride tomorrow? I can pick you up on my way to Bree’s.”

“Um…” I’m torn between wanting to steal every moment I can with Grayson, even though he’s completely unavailable, and not wanting to torture myself by being the kind of girl who desperately covets someone else’s boyfriend.

He hops out of the car without waiting for an answer and pulls my bike out of the back. When I take it from him he puts his hands in his pockets and looks down at my bent front wheel. “Listen, Jules. Aside from the fact that your bike is trashed, I don’t think you should risk riding to or from work by yourself. I think you need to be very careful until we figure out what happened to Sarah Buckley. I’ll pick you up at twelve thirty, okay?” I can’t quite read the expression on his face when he adds, “I insist.”

“Are you volunteering to be my knight in shining armor?” I want to die as soon as the words are out of my mouth.

He looks me in the eye, then reaches out and brushes a strand of hair out of my face. “Someone’s got to keep the new nun safe. Look what happened to Angelique.” He grins. “See you at twelve thirty, Buttercup.”

“Okay,” I say, against my better judgment. “See you tomorrow.” My face feels super hot as I wheel my bike up the walk. I turn back and Grayson gives me a wave. “Thank you, Sir Squight!” I call.

He waits until I reach the front door before pulling away.

Chapter Nineteen

You Can See That in Someone’s Aura?

The front door flies open and Cami barrels into me.

“Jules, oh my gosh, are you okay?” She throws her arms around me and squeezes me tight.

“Ow.”

She lets go immediately. “What is it? Are you injured?”

“No, you were squeezing me too hard. Help me put my bike away, would you?”

“Dude. I think you need a new bike.”

“I know. Just open the garage door, okay?”

We put my bike away and then join Gran in the kitchen. She gives me a gentle hug but doesn’t let go for a long moment.

“You can drive the shop van to work. Screw the greenhouse emissions,” she says. “And I’ll run interference with your mom.”

“That’s okay. Grayson offered to give me a ride.”

“Did he? He’s a very thoughtful young man, your Grayson.”

“He’s not
my
Grayson.”

“What happened?” Cami asks. “Tell us everything.”

I tell them about the bike crash and my trip to the emergency room.

“Do you think it was an accident?” Gran asks.

“I don’t know. That road is pretty narrow, and I’m sure there are plenty of lousy teenage drivers working at Tudor Times. It could have been someone who wasn’t paying attention, was messing with their phone, or their stereo, or whatever.

“Did Grayson see anything?”

“No. He must have gotten there right after it happened. He said he saw my bike on the side of the road and stopped.”

“Should we call the police?” Cami asks. “If someone pushed you off the road that’s hit-and-run.”

“Yeah, except I didn’t see the car. I can’t tell the police anything other than what I just told you. Which isn’t much.”

“We still need to report it, Juliet,” Gran says.

“Okay, fine. But it’s not like they can do anything about it.”

“What if this is related to the body you found? And the killer is trying to keep you from talking?” Cami suggests.

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking, except, keep me from talking about what? No one seems to be taking me seriously about having found a dead body. Wouldn’t the killer be making things worse for themselves by running me off the road and possibly drawing police attention to Tudor Times?”

“Not if you’re dead,” Cami says.

“That’s a nice thought,” I say.

“Who could have overheard you asking about the missing girl?” Gran asks.

“The Great Wardrobe was full of people turning in their costumes. And there was that whole conversation with Mike the Knight. He seemed kind of nervous, but why would he bother asking me about Sarah if he was planning to run me off the road?”

“Who were you talking to outside the Great Hall while Cami and I were at the banquet?”

“Oh, that was Floyd. The Keeper. He’s the one who cornered me in the Oratory. He wanted me to tell him how I found the secret passageway.”

“You should stay away from that one, Juliet. His aura is a mess.”

“How so?”

Gran shakes her head. “Some people’s auras make me feel happy to be alive. His is like the cloud of stench surrounding a rotting piece of meat.”

“Gross.”

“And possibly dangerous. Do not let him catch you alone again.”

“How about Hank Bacon’s aura? Do you think he could have anything to do with the missing girl?” Cami asks.

“Whoever killed Sarah knew about the secret passageway, and according to Floyd, he never told Hank about it,” I say.

“Yeah, but you and Angelique both found the secret entrance. Hank could have found one, too,” Cami points out.

“True. And he was in the passageway by himself after I found the dead girl. He definitely had time to hide the body.”

“I can’t see Hank Bacon as a killer. It’s not in his aura,” Gran says.

“You can see that in someone’s aura?” Cami asks.

“Well, no. But he’s a perfect match for Anna and I know she’d never strangle someone in cold blood. So, unless I’m losing it in my old age, I don’t think you have anything to fear from Hank. But somebody is certainly up to no good.”

“Oh my gosh! I forgot to tell you my epiphany. Remember that necklace Hank was wearing when he came into the shop? The one Mom was all gaga over? Well, the necklace Sarah was strangled with was really similar, only it was decorated with pearls and rubies. What if whoever sold him the pendant Mom told him had fake jewels in it, sold him the jeweled necklace, too? Do you think that would make him mad enough to kill someone?”

“So he just strangles the nearest employee and drags her into the secret passageway?” Cami says. “Uh, yeah. I don’t think so.”

“Well, what if she was in on it somehow?”

“I think you should talk to Hank Bacon tomorrow,” Gran says. “Show him the pearl and tell him you think the girl you saw was Sarah.”

“Good plan,” Cami says. “And now that that’s settled, tell us about your knight in shining armor and how he came to your rescue again.”

“He didn’t come to my rescue, he drove me to the emergency room. And I think that was only because he felt guilty for dissing me in the Great Wardrobe.” I tell them about Bree offering me a ride in his car without asking him.

“Ooh, do you think they had a fight about it?” Cami asks, and she and Gran look at each other.

I shrug. “I don’t know.”

“But you said he’s picking you up tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah. On his way to Bree’s house.”

Grayson reappears promptly at twelve thirty the next day.

“Hey, Buttercup,” he says as I hop into the passenger seat, and any chance I had of resisting his charms today floats away like the last flower petal in a game of she loves me, she loves me not.

“Hey, there,” I say, while my brain screams “She loves you!”

“Got any predictions for me today?”

“Yes. Today you will escort a nun and a queen to a castle on a hill.” And the nun will gaze at you adoringly the whole way.

He laughs. “Wow. I never would have seen that coming. You’re good.”

“I know. It’s a gift.”

“Speaking of gifts, you were right about the boogers.”

“I was?” Awesome. I will forever be associated with boogers in Grayson’s mind.

“Yeah, the Hepplewhite turned out to be a love seat my mom inherited from my great-great-grandmother. Apparently Ronan, my little brother, has been making deposits on the back of it for months, possibly years. My mom is furious. She’s afraid it’ll ruin the fancy silk upholstery fabric if she tries to clean the boogers off.”

“I bet my mom could help. Tell your mom to bring it to the antique shop in August when she gets back in town.”

“You sure your mom wants to be involved in a booger removal?”

I stifle a giggle picturing Mom’s face when she sees the love seat. I wonder if her artifact dating ability applies to boogers? “I’m sure she’s dealt with worse. Not from me, of course. I don’t even have boogers.”

“Me, either. How are you feeling, by the way? Any symptoms of concussion?”

“Nope. I feel kind of sore and a little scratched up, but otherwise I’m fine.”

“Glad to hear it. No life-and-death drama today, okay?”

“Let’s hope not. Hey, I Googled Sarah Buckley this morning,” I say. “Did you know she had an online costume shop?”

“I’m not surprised. I know she was into Ren Faire stuff.”

“Ren Faire?”

“Renaissance Faire. You know, people dressed up in costumes walking around gnawing on turkey legs? Sarah’s in the same guild as one of the knights at Tudor Times.” Grayson looks over at me. “Hey, we should ask him if he knows where Sarah is!”

“Let me guess, Mike the Knight?”

“Are you doing that psychic thing again?”

“No, I talked to Mike yesterday. He heard me talking about Sarah and wanted to know if I’d seen her.”

“Oh. Well, so much for that lead.”

“Gran thinks I should talk to Hank and tell him about the pearl, and that Sarah is the girl I saw in the passageway.”

“It can’t hurt, right?”

“Well, he could fire me for sneaking around the secret passageways after he told me not to.”

“Maybe you should blurt out, ‘You will not fire me!’ right before you tell him about the pearl?”

“Ha ha,” I say, and Grayson grins at me and I forget to breathe until I notice we’ve pulled up in front of Bree’s house. She comes bouncing down her front steps as I open the passenger door so I can climb into the backseat to let her sit in front with Grayson.

“Oh, no worries, Jules. I’ll sit in back,” she says, leaning in to give me a quick hug. “Are you okay? Grayson told me about your bike crash.”

“I’m fine. I just got a little up close and personal with a hedge. I don’t really recommend it.”

“I wouldn’t think so,” she says, then slides into the seat behind me. She leans between the front seats and gives Grayson a quick kiss on the cheek. “Hi, Gray. Off to work we go! Jules, I want to hear all about your psychic job. I’m absolutely fascinated by the gift of visions thing. Do you, like, communicate with spirits or how does it work? Will you do a reading for me?”

“Um, the reading thing is still kind of new to me,” I say. “Angelique was teaching me her method before she had to go to the hospital, but mostly I act pious and nunly and blurt out random information at various intervals. Which, oddly enough, seems to entertain people instead of making them think I’m a freak.”

“Why would anyone think you were a freak?”

“I’m fairly certain most of Lunevale High, not to mention the
town
of Lunevale, thinks I’m a freak thanks to the whole blurting thing.”

“I don’t think so, Jules. I think some people have a hard time dealing with things they don’t understand, but you know what? The people who matter don’t mind and the people who mind don’t matter. Anyway, I’ve never thought you were a freak. I assumed you had a special gift like your grandma. She helped my aunt find her one true love. They got married last summer. It was so romantic.”

“Really? That’s awesome.” Who knew? “Yeah, she’s got a knack for romance, that Gran.”

“I’m so jealous. Your family is so cool.”

Whoa.
Bree Blair did not just say that
she’s
jealous of
me
. I would trade my “gift” for her supermodel hair alone. Not to mention her boyfriend. A girl can dream, right?

When we get to the castle Grayson leaves for the practice field to work on his knightly skills, Bree heads to the costume shop to pick up her “uniform,” and I go in search of King Henry.

I knock on the door to his study and King Henry pokes his head out.

“Ah, Mistress Verity. The very lady I need. Prithee, do come in.” He opens the door barely wide enough to let me through and that’s when I see the two police officers sitting on his leather couch.