The Shop of Shades and Secrets (Modern Gothic Romance 1) (29 page)

“On your way home? You’re taking a cab, I hope.” Gideon Senior was saying into his sleek black phone. “Well, I’m sure Gideon won’t mind.” He raised his eyebrows and his grandson nodded in affirmation. “How long…about ten minutes? That close? Well, all right—see you then.” He pushed the button to end the call, dropped the phone on the table, and leaped to his feet. “We’ve got ten minutes—really only five, considering how my wife will be egging on the cab driver. Come on!”

He scrabbled about, shuffling the pizza boxes together as his grandson watched in amusement. “Get those bottles out of here, will you?” he snapped at the younger man.

“It’s no use, Grandfather. She’ll smell the beer and cigars, and, besides, she knows you better than that.” He remained lounging on the sofa, tilting the beer bottle gently to his lips.

“You’re a whole lot of help,” Gideon Senior growled as he carried a tilted stack of pizza and garlic-bread boxes from the room.

He returned nary a moment too soon, for the doorbell pealed and the door swung open. “Hello in there!” came Iva’s cheery voice as she flowed into the room, carrying two large shopping bags.

‘Flowed’ was the right word, too, for she wore a brilliant blue caftan-like garment embroidered with silver and sapphire designs. A matching blue scarf that was tied around her face and over her ears embraced her silvery hair. Bracelets, earrings, and necklaces clanked and clinked as she bent to embrace her guilty-looking husband.

Gideon looked at her in askance. “I thought you were
going
to a psychic party—not
being
the psychic, Iva. You look like a fortune-teller yourself.” Much as he loved her—truly he did—he sometimes couldn’t understand how his staid, conservative grandfather had married her. She was just so…odd.

She came over to him, brushing her sweet, powdered cheek against his as they hugged, then kissing him just next to his lips. “Thank you my dear,” she said merrily.

He could smell the faintness of alcohol on her breath, and by the look in her starry eyes, surmised that she’d been having as good a time as he and Gideon Senior had. “I’ll take that as a compliment! Although there is no way I could even think to match Salton’s talents. She is absolutely wonderful.”

“What’s all that stuff?” her husband asked, eyeing the two large bags she’d dropped on the floor next to him. “And where did you get that outfit? Christ, Iva, you look like a gypsy!”

Instead of being offended by his comments, she giggled at him and twirled around so that the gown spun in a whirlpool of rayon. “What, you don’t like it? Gideon, dear, do you have any more of that lovely white wine you always have on hand? I’d like a glass while I show you two the wonderful things I got tonight.”

Grinning broadly, the younger Gideon pulled himself from the sofa and sauntered into the kitchen to do her bidding. His grandfather’s words followed him out of the room: “I thought you were going to a party—not to the mall, Iva.”

When he returned, he found his apple-cheeked step-grandmother cozied up to her husband on the loveseat, and they both looked up guiltily as he came in the room.

“Did I interrupt something?” he asked innocently. “I can go find something to do in the kitchen if you two would like to be alone.”

“Nonsense,” his grandfather blustered. “Iva, let’s get this over with.”

“Now, dear, don’t be so impatient. You know, Salton said that impatience is one of your greatest weaknesses…but then again, she said it was also one of your greatest strengths.” She gave him a huge smile and he settled back in his seat, abashed.

Gideon couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “So do you really believe all the stuff this Salton tells you?”

Iva turned to look at him, and the humor eased from her face, replaced by earnestness. “Ah, Gideon, darling.” She pursed her lips and reached over to touch his hand, patting it where it rested on the sofa next to him. “Salton says you’re trapped in the past, and afraid to—”

“What?” Gideon interrupted, sitting upright. She’d been talking to a fortune-teller about him? “That’s nonsense, Iva. I’m sorry, I don’t—”

“She says,” Iva continued, as though he’d never interrupted, “that you’ve been smothering your talents and that they’ll waste away if you don’t allow them to come forth.”

“Iva—” Gideon swallowed, feeling his stomach twist. How could a strange woman know these things about him? “She just made broad statements that could be interpreted in many different ways.”

Iva patted his hand again, still looking at him with something akin to sympathy in her eyes. “She mentioned Fiona.” Her eyebrows rose delicately as Gideon froze and looked at her.

“What?”

“She said that a breath of fresh air had come into your life. That she had reddish hair and that she likes hands, and that she was good for you.”

Gideon stared at her. “And you don’t know this woman?” he asked tentatively, reaching blindly for the beer bottle at his side.

“Gideon….” Iva took his hand, clasping his long fingers in her small, soft, wrinkled ones, “she said that you would have a very difficult decision to make…that it would turn your life around…and she said that, although it would be very painful, you would do the right thing in the end.”

He eased his hand away. “I can’t believe I am actually half-believing this,” Gideon said faintly, shaking his head. “Well, Iva, what can I say?”

She gave him a tender, motherly smile. “Nothing. Just file it away in the back of your mind for when you need it. Now, tell us…is there any news from the police about the break-in at Fiona’s shop?”

Gideon shook his head, his mouth grim. “None really. If it weren’t for the note he left that said
you’ll be next
, I think they’d be writing it off as a random robbery.”

“But there’ve been two incidents,” his grandfather reminded him.

“Yes, and the police will say that there are valuable items in that shop, and it backs up to a dark alley, so it’s a target. There’s a lamp in there worth more than five thousand dollars.” At least, according to Dylan the shop-smurf. Gideon thrust that thought away and added, “Fiona’s being smart about it. Taking care not to be alone at night, and always having the alarm system on if she’s at the shop by herself during the day. What other choice does she have?”

“Do they think it’s all related to the skeleton?” Iva asked, her eyes bright with interest—not unlike Fiona’s were, when she talked about the mystery of the skeleton.

“How can it be?” Gideon Senior asked. “The first incident was long before she found the bones.”

“Unless the two incidents are unrelated,” Iva reminded him gently. “But, I can’t imagine what urgency an old skeleton would have for someone. Unless it’s a member of the family? Maybe there’s a family secret hidden in the shop. Or maybe the
skeleton
is a family secret.” She drew back into her seat on the sofa, bringing her wineglass to her lips, eyes sparkling.

Her husband nudged the shopping bags on the floor. “What in blazes is in here?” he asked, exchanging glances with his grandson.

Allowing herself to be distracted, Iva leaned forward to pull one of the bags onto her lap, then tilted it so that its contents tumbled onto the ottoman. Tissue paper flew as she unwrapped her treasures. “This is an aromatherapy diffuser, and here are the essential oils that I bought to go with it,” she explained, holding up a device that looked similar to the one Fiona had used at her house.

“And here are some aromatherapy candles, too—a stress-reliever for you, dearest,” she smiled at Gideon Senior. Then she looked at her grandson and her eyebrows knit. “Hm. I should have gotten one for you too.”

She opened up a small box and showed them a stack of cards with designs and alchemical symbols on them. “When I learn how, I’ll do a Tarot reading for you, my dear,” she told Gideon the Third, with such sincerity in her voice that he had to look away to keep from grinning.

“What on God’s earth is this?” her husband bellowed, lifting a rather large, heavy box from the second shopping bag.

“Oh, yes, that’s my favorite of the bunch,” Iva chirped enthusiastically, relieving him of the box. “It’s a mini waterfall. You can put it on your desk…or we could put it in our bedroom too.” She slanted a look at him that made her grandson raise his eyebrows and grin.

“A waterfall? On my desk? Iva, what—”

“Now, dear, remember your blood pressure.” She patted his hand, then returned to the task of pulling the waterfall from its packaging. It was a bowl-like object stacked with rocks of varying sizes and shapes, and a long black electrical cord snaked from the back of it. “Isn’t it cute?”

Gideon himself could hardly believe what he was seeing, but just as he was about to ask what one actually used a small waterfall for, the doorbell rang.

Iva looked up. “Oh, and, Gideon, I forgot—there was one more thing Salton mentioned. She said that you’ll have a surprise tonight.”

Right. Gideon glanced at his grandfather and asked, “You didn’t order any more pizza did you?”

“No!” he sputtered as Iva turned an accusatory glare on him.

“Pizza? Any
more
pizza?” she asked, shaking a finger. “What have you been eating, Hollis Gideon Nath?”

Gideon didn’t hear his grandfather’s reply as he stepped into the foyer to look out the peephole.

Fiona.

His heart stopped. She stood there on the doorstep, her mass of hair illuminated by the porch light, her beautiful face upturned toward the door.

He opened it, trying to keep his delight to a minimum in case he misunderstood the situation. And as he looked out, he was glad he had—for a shadow moved behind her, stepping onto the porch, and metamorphosing into her shop-smurf Dylan.

“Hello Gideon,” she said, smiling, but tentative in her look. “Are you…busy? It looks like you might have company, and I don’t want to intrude.”

“It’s just Grandfather and Iva,” he explained, looking at Dylan, wondering what this meant.

“Oh. Good.” Obvious relief broke out over her face. “I knew I was taking a chance in coming here, but…I….” she trailed off, and shot a glance at Dylan, who stood leaning against the porch column, arms crossed over his abdomen.

“I guess you don’t need me any more, hmm?” he asked, glancing at Gideon, and pushing away from his relaxed stance. “Is it all right if I take off now? Mission accomplished.”

She looked back at Gideon, and warmth flooded him at the blatant uncertainty in her eyes. “Of course. Fiona, you’re always welcome here.”

No sooner had the door closed behind Dylan and the tepid September air than Gideon pulled Fiona into his arms and, jamming his hands into her hair, pushed her up against the door to kiss the life out of her.

“Mmm,” she sighed against his mouth, and he felt her lips curl in a soft smile.

“Gideon, who is—oh.”

They broke apart and Fiona shifted to see Iva standing there with a pleased smile on her face. “So you did come, after all.”

“Yes.” She looked up at Gideon. “Yes, I did.”

Then, noticing for the first time how his grandmother was dressed, Fiona clapped her hands together. “Oh, Iva, I love your outfit! You look so bright and happy.”

Iva slipped her hand through Fiona’s arm and tugged her toward the living room. “I just have to show you this deck of Tarot cards I found tonight. At least
you
will appreciate them.”