More Than Magic (14 page)

“No, I understand. Dr. Fleming told us you left the program, but that was all he knew and, well, I finally gave up calling, but Tink was pretty persistent. I’m
so
glad you called.” Tink’s mom sounded so much more relaxed than the last time Grace had seen her. And frazzled. Hopefully that was a good sign. “She’ll want to talk to you!”

“How is she?” Grace held her breath. She just needed to know that it was real. That it lasted. That it wasn’t her imagination or some strange coincidence or—

“Perfect. Absolutely perfect! Didn’t Dr. Fleming tell you?”

Grace let out a big sigh. She hadn’t realized how much she had needed to hear that. Tink was fine. Tink was apparently better than fine. Grace closed her eyes.

“Dr. Woodruff?”

“I’m
so
glad to hear that. I’m so glad the chemo worked,” Grace responded. “So there’s no sign—”

“Absolutely cancer free. Complete remission. All the markers are gone. Zero. Nothing. I can’t tell you how…” There was the sound of a swallowed sob. “We’re so thankful.”

“The Center does great work. I’m sure you—”

“It was amazing how quickly she improved. Like a miracle.”

“They work really hard for those miracles,” Grace said firmly, and started transferring cooling cookies to a platter.

“Yes, they do.”

“And Tink did a lot of the work herself. I saw that you took her to see the real Tinker Bell. Thank you for the photo.” Grace hoped the conversation would head in a different direction.

“Oh! I’m so glad you got it. We just sent it to the hospital. I told Tink it would get to you.”

“Yes. It’s on my refrigerator door. She looks wonderful. I love all that hair.”

“It grew back in so
fast
. It was unreal. It was all so— You know, she insisted it was
you
, Dr. Woodruff. You and your magic fairy dust.”

Grace’s heart rose into her throat.
Dammit. Well, you knew this was coming.
“Me and what?”

There was a nervous laugh on the other end of the line. “Magic fairy dust. After you fainted that day in her room—we were so worried about you, by the way—but we got so caught up in her recovery—”

“I was fine. I just got overextended. I am
really
sorry I worried you and Tink.”

“Well, she insisted that you had sprinkled the cancer with fairy dust and that was why she got better so fast. She would
not
stop talking about you and wanting to find you and visit your mountain. She was obsessed with it.”

Grace tried to calm herself. “Really? How odd. Well, I suppose I timed my passing out perfectly!” she said with forced cheer.

“Yes. Well, I mean no, of course not.”

“I’m just glad she’s doing so well, no matter how
she
thinks it happened,” Grace said. “I hope she isn’t
still
talking about—”

“Oh no. There was a while when we thought she was going to drive us all crazy insisting that she needed to meet your mountain and stay with you forever. She kept a bag packed. There were a lot of temper tantrums and tears.”

That’s not good.
“I am
so
sorry.”

“No, no! No need to be sorry. We were all emotional and things were a bit crazy around here. It just got her all stirred up. She had herself convinced.”

“Bless your heart. Has she stopped—”

“Oh yes, thank goodness. About a month after you—after you left. She calmed down and got interested in school and her friends, and her new puppy.”

Hallelujah.
“A puppy! I bet she
loves
that.”

“Well. I don’t know how you’ll feel about this, but— She named the dog Grace.”

Grace chuckled. “Oh, great. I hope it’s a girl dog at least.”

“Oh yes! I’m so glad you don’t mind. It’s an Irish Setter. Tink insisted she wanted a red-haired dog. And her father couldn’t deny her what she wanted. We came so close to—” She couldn’t finish the sentence.
 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to bring up bad memories. I just wanted to check on Tink. I think about her all the time.”
More than you will ever know.

“Oh no. I’m thrilled that you called. Tink will want to talk to you.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea? I don’t want to stir up any obsession about me again.”

“Oh, she’ll make my life miserable if she finds out I talked to you. I can’t not tell her.”

“I’d probably spoil her rotten myself, if I were you.”

“Yes, we
are
spoiling her. Let me call her.” There was some commotion on the other end of the phone.

“Dr. Grace? Dr. Grace!” Tink’s voice was strong and clear.

“Yes, Your Fabulous Fairyness. It’s me, your loyal subject!” Grace swallowed back tears.

“Oh Dr. Grace! Did you see? I have
hair
now, and a puppy, and I went and saw the real honest-to-goodness Tinker Bell.” Tink sounded as if she was plugged the same energy source as Jamie.

“Yes, I did, sweetie. You have beautiful hair.”

“And my puppy. She’s beautiful like you!”

Well, there were worse things than being compared to a red-haired dog. “I’m sure that she is.”

“I named her Grace, after you.”

“Thank you dear, that’s quite an honor!”

“So, are you better now? Momma said you were sick.”

Good for momma.
“Yes, much better. I’m sorry it was so hard for you to find me.”

“Oh, I knew where you were,” Tink whispered. “I’ve always known.”

As sweet as Tink was, those words sent a chill down Grace’s spine. As if the Tink from her dreams was talking to her.
 

“You were hiding up on your mountain.”

“Hiding? I wasn’t hiding, sweetie—”

“It’s okay. I know. I didn’t at first. I wanted to be with you and your mountain
all
the time, because you made me feel so good. But I know now.”

Grace couldn’t seem to breathe. “What do you know, sweetie?”

“I can’t feel like that
all
the time. It’s not the right way for things to be.”

“But you feel good
now
. Your mom said—”

“I don’t mean that. The old black nasty stuff’s gone away forever. I mean, I can’t feel like I’m full of gold sparklies and magic fairy dust all the time.”

Oh.
“No, I suppose you can’t. There’s a limited supply of magic fairy dust and it really only works on old black nasty stuff. You don’t have any more of that, so you don’t need it.” Wherever
it
comes from.

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone.

“Dr. Grace?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t hide anymore, okay?”
 

If only it were that easy.
“I won’t hide from
you
sweetheart. I promise.”

“Sometime I’m gonna come meet your mountain, but later.” There was a loud clunk. “Mommy!” Grace held the phone away from her ear. Tink’s mother picked it back up.

“Sorry. I couldn’t hear all of it. I hope she didn’t bother you too much.”

“Not at all,” Grace said. “She’s great. Better than great, actually. Thank you so much for letting me talk to her, and for understanding.”
 

“Like I said, we’re so thankful to all of you for what you did for her. I’m just glad she got to thank you herself.”

“I am, too. She does seem to have gotten over the whole magic fairy dust thing.”

“Yes, thank goodness. Anyway, I have to run. She’s—
Isabella
get that dog
out
of those—” The line went dead.

Grace took a shaky breath and tried to relax. Then she smelled something burning.

“Oh
no
!”

Grabbing an oven mitt she pulled the very well done cookies out of the oven. Fortunately it was nothing a good dollop of icing wouldn’t cure.

“Everything all right in here? Jamie sent me to see if you burnt the soul cakes, as expected.”

Damn the man, he seemed to have an absolute
talent
at catching her off guard.

Grace set the pan on the cooling rack and faced him, dodging Pooka who had wandered in to check out the baked goods as well. “Not quite. I was on the phone with a customer and forgot about them for a second. Pooka! Out!”

Nick leaned against the doorframe, watching her with an expression she couldn’t quite read. If she hadn’t seen him this morning, she would’ve thought the man was a picture of health, except for the way his clothes fit, or didn’t quite fit.

“Seriously? You have a product called ‘magic fairy dust’?” he asked.

Grace’s skin betrayed her, turning so pale that the smattering of light freckles on her nose became far more visible, like a lie detector for redheads.
 

She spun away to fuss over the soul cakes, but Nick had seen enough.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, but a name like that caught my attention.”

“It’s a—a funny nickname one of my customer’s daughters gave to something we sell. Just a joke really.” Her voice sounded thin and fragile, like glass that could shatter at any moment.

“Sounds like something I’d like to try.”

“We don’t sell it anymore,” she said.

“Well, maybe you should. You know: profit, loss, return on investment, and so on.”

She straightened with what looked like a large ginger-colored cookie decorated with a white star in her hand, which she set carefully on a tray that was already half full of them. Her expression almost made him regret needling her like this, but after what he had learned in the sunroom, he had nearly all the pieces to this puzzle. He just needed her to provide him with the rest.

“I appreciate the advice.” She went back to carefully piping icing onto another cookie.

“I mean, I’ve seen what the
bad
stuff can do,” he pressed on. “To the people who take it, to their kids, and to other people’s kids.”
Like Alex.
“Magic fairy dust that’s actually good for you seems like a great alternative.”

Nick knew a lot of what he had done with the DEA over the past years—walking the edge and pushing too hard—was to somehow fix what had happened to his brother, to his mom—hell, to his whole family—all because of one meth head. Nothing he could do would fix it, but he could also never bring himself to walk away. Maybe his body had just decided for him. And this was it—this one last case. One way or another he was going to solve the damn thing.

It was an odd contrast when she straightened again, the obvious guilt on her face and the plump cookie with a white frosting star in her hand—a hand that was shaking a bit as she set the cookie down on a plate.

“What would you like to drink with your cookies?” she asked, controlling herself better now. “Tea or milk? I could make some coffee?”

“Nothing stronger? You look like you could use a drink.”

“Not right now. We have some good wines, and there’s some old brandy around here somewhere if— But…no, you probably shouldn’t have alcohol.”

“What? Does that magic powder you gave me interact badly with the stuff?”

She took a deep breath and started to frost another cookie. He was surprised they weren’t crumbling in her hands with the tension he saw in her back. Obviously he was on the right track. The word “magic” seemed to wind her up tighter and tighter. Something was going to give.

“No, but I think whatever it is you have is still— I think you need to talk to your doctor.”

Nick frowned. She was still worried about his health when he was standing here practically telling her he knew what was going on.

His head told him to keep pressing, his gut told him he was totally off target, and his body told him to do something with her on a handy flat surface—soon. And this kitchen had a lot of handy flat surfaces.

“I think I’ll take just a little of that brandy. My Nan always takes some brandy and honey as a hot drink for medicinal purposes. Can’t hurt too much. She’s still kicking at eighty-seven.”

Oh, that hit a soft spot for sure. Grace spun around and stormed across the kitchen. She leaned over a lower cabinet and rummaged around inside, coming up with a rather dusty bottle and surreptitiously swiping at her eyes. She pulled two colorful mugs off a tree on the counter and set them down with the bottle.

“Feel free to make yourself a t-toddy. There’s honey on the c-counter there. You can use the microwave if you like.”

She was fighting back tears as she returned to the cookies.
 

Nick had dealt with tears before. A lot of perps cried when they were pinned down and confronted with reality, but this was different.

Gah!
He was getting soft and brandy wasn’t going to help. But if he were in charge of building
her
a toddy—

“So, two mugs. Did you want some as well?”

Grace nodded without a sound, still furiously working on the cookies. Her stars were looking a little lopsided.

“Well, no microwave for me. Nan insists on boiling the water. She thinks microwaving it changed the taste. How strong do you want yours?”