Maudlin's Mayhem (Bewitching Bedlam #2)(55)
I quickly showed Sandy the book. “That script is ancient. And I’ll bet you if you have the paper analyzed, that’s going to be at least five hundred years.”
“I don’t think this is Essie’s handwriting,” she said.
“It can’t be. She’s not that old. She was born in 1844 in New Orleans. She had to have ripped off some member of the Arcānus Nocturni. She won’t dare let them find out. If one of those vampires found out she stole something from them? It would be good-bye, Essie.”
“Yeah, well, that would be one way to be rid of her.” Sandy laughed. “I know it’s mean to say, but it would be handy to have somebody else take her off our hands.”
“You don’t want anybody from the Arcānus Nocturni to take her place. Think about it for a moment. A vampire king or queen walking around in daylight, and us being unable to tell who they are? We still don’t know what agenda the vamps are brewing in their lairs—or even if there is a general, vampire-worldwide agenda. But even if it’s only a local issue, it’s bad enough.”
“Come on, let’s go. I’ll bring you back as soon as we drop off the book and Bubba.”
Grateful for her company—I didn’t want to be driving around with that journal alone, either—I slid into her car again after depositing the carrier in the back seat, along with the suitcases full of Thornton’s things. Bubba had curled up and was sleeping peacefully.
We drove back to Auntie Tautau’s, where she took the journal from me and shooed me on my way again. Another stop to drop off Thornton’s effects at the sheriff’s office—where I had hoped to talk to Delia, but she was out—and we headed over to Sandy’s.
As we entered the kitchen, Alex came bustling out from the kitchen. Her personal assistant, he was as necessary to her life as air. Alex had been, for a short while, her lover, but they both realized it wasn’t going to work and they played together better as boss/employee, and as friends. They hadn’t been immersed enough in the relationship for it to color their friendship and so things had returned to normal between them and Alex watched over her like an old mother hen. He was the perfect example of a metrosexual—and was pretty much the gayest straight man I had ever met.
“Maddy, love, you look wonderful,” he said, breezing past me. He stopped long enough for a kiss-kiss on the cheek, and a wink, and then immediately was back in motion, a whirlwind of efficiency.
“Max called, he wants you to call him back as soon as possible. I told him to try your cell but he said that he was in the middle of a meeting. The funeral home called—they want to know if you have Bart’s obituary ready for the paper. I told them I’d fax it to them by tomorrow. They also asked again if you would consider burial and I told them that if they didn’t stop hounding you about it, they’d be left with no client whatsoever. They’re as bad as ambulance chasers. Burials are big business, you know, where cremation, not so much. Anyway, I took care of them, and then I also rescheduled your meeting with the board of Sand Witch Delights. I figured you wouldn’t have time tomorrow morning because Bart’s parents are coming into town for the service.” He let out a long breath, suddenly out of words.
“Thanks, Alex. Can you bring Mr. Peabody in? We brought Bubba home for the evening.”
Alex suppressed a smile, but solemnly carted in the skunk, cradling him like a baby. He set Mr. Peabody down on the ottoman and I opened Bubba’s carrier. Bubba leaped out, alert and ready to play. Sandy and I had arranged several play dates for the pair, and they seemed happy enough together, so we assumed that everything was going fine.
Mr. Peabody waddled up to Bubba and sniffed him, then let out a series of happy-sounding squeaks. Bubba brightened up, reached out, bopped him on the nose, and then bounded away with Mr. Peabody struggling to keep up.
“I guess all is well. I still have a bad feeling that one day Bubba’s going to offer Mr. Peabody a wish and…well…we have no clue what kind of mayhem could ensue.” I shook my head. “I’m not sure I want to find out, either, but it’s all good.” Feeling relieved, I headed for the door. “I’d better get home and prepare for the meeting. You’re coming, aren’t you? As my second in command, you should be there.”
“Can I beg off tonight? I have so much to do with the funeral.”
“Oh, that’s right. I’m sorry. Okay, but I’m calling you after to tell you how it went. Unless you and Max are going to be knocking bits. If you don’t answer, I’ll leave a text.”
She laughed at that. “I wish we were, but tonight is all about preparing for Bart’s parents. You’ll be at the service, right?” She was smiling but the pain in her voice was raw, and I knew that the moment she was alone, she’d be crying again.
“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it, hon. I’ll be there to support you. I just wish I could do more.”
And on that note, she drove me home.
RELIEVED THAT THE journal was out of the house, I took a quick shower and foraged through the cupboards till I found a can of stew. Figuring it was healthy enough, I nuked it and ate standing up by the sink.
I wanted to go check on Aegis, but it wasn’t sunset yet, and he would still be asleep. Deciding that I’d make sure he was okay, anyway, I darted down into the basement. His coffin was secure and he was sleeping on top of it in his bat form. The sun couldn’t reach this room, so no matter whether he slept in the coffin or out of it, he’d be okay down here. In human form, he didn’t mind. I could see how it would be terrifying—he wasn’t strong enough as a bat to lift the lid and get out of it.