Sapphire Nights (Crystal Magic Book 1)(32)
The more Carmel irritated, the more Sam dug in. Weird. She really ought to be intimidated.
“Kurt considers me a guest,” she said with her biggest smile. The lodge manager would no doubt kill her, but she was quite done with being treated like an insect. “If he asks me to leave, I will happily do so.”
Fortunately, before Golden Girl exploded, a familiar male voice spoke from behind her.
“Samantha? We’re going to need your help with Val. Good morning, Mrs. Kennedy. Kurt said we could use the back lot again, if that’s all right with you.”
Deputy Walker waited in the corridor, unable to enter the office without bodily removing the lodge owner. Although he wasn’t a bulky man, he stood taller and broader than Carmel. Despite his polite words, his authoritative baritone said it wasn’t a request. This was not the deference of an underpaid deputy.
“I am talking to the DA about this repeated invasion of private property,” Mrs. Kennedy said in a low voice that resembled a hiss. “I will not tolerate these locals harassing us.”
“Then find a way to keep people from burying bodies up there, and my job is done.” He backed up and gestured for her to depart.
Oh crap, they really had found another body. Did she want to go with him? No, she wanted to flee this mountain and never come back—if only she knew where to go.
Only because Walker looked sympathetic as she stood up did she agree to accompany him. If he’d been one of those glaring, belligerent cops, she’d have. . . Behaved as she had with Carmel? If so, it was probably a good thing she hadn’t encountered police before or she would have a record for Walker to find.
“Kurt told me I’m to ignore his mother’s temper, so I do,” Walker said, taking her elbow and escorting her toward a back entrance. “It sounds as if he gave you the same advice.”
“Was I awful? Kurt didn’t advise me of anything. I really don’t know where that came from. I’m a mousy looking person, driving a mousy little car, but I dare roar at lions?” She was still a little shaken by her behavior.
“Mousy?” he asked incredulously, staring at her as he opened the side door and let her out. “If I were to describe you, it would be lionesque. Your roar suits you perfectly.”
“I don’t feel like a lion,” she grumbled. “Maybe a battered alley cat. What have you found and do I really have to go up there again?”
“You don’t have to see the body,” he said, with a hint of sympathy. “We’ve positively identified him. We know the last time he was seen. But Val won’t leave. And her tribe is starting to gather.” He gestured at the women congregating in the corner of the lot nearest the road.
“So maybe I can stay here and encourage them to stay here?” Sam asked with hope. “Or I can talk with them and ask what it will take to bring Val down?”
“That works,” he said in relief. “Thank you. I know it’s nuts asking a complete stranger to deal with the locals, but I think that’s what’s needed. Everyone knows everyone too well around here, and they push each other’s buttons. You’re fresh meat.”
Sam laughed. “If Carmel had her way, I’d be roadkill. Why on earth would she care if I used the hotel’s computer?”
“My guess is that she’s a controlling bitch. I’m sure the Lucys will give you more colorful alternatives. If you need any help, let Alonzo in the security office know.”
He started to walk toward his car, but Sam caught his arm, almost startling herself with the familiarity of the gesture. He wore a short-sleeved shirt and his brown arm was hard and muscular. She dropped it the instant he turned.
“Can you tell me who you found? And can I tell the Lucys?”
“We haven’t notified his next of kin. He’s local, so the Lucys will know soon enough. Sorry, that’s all I can offer.”
She let him go. The uneasiness had returned. Her legs seemed to be trembling, as if the ground moved beneath her feet. Maybe they were having an earthquake. But no one else appeared concerned. Maybe they had quakes here so often, no one noticed.
Shakily, she walked over to join the women. She identified Tullah from the thrift store, Amber the Tarot Reader, Crazy Daisy, and Mariah. The others had been in the café, and she recognized their faces, if not their names. The only male today looked like a university professor with a closely-cut goatee and well-barbered chestnut hair.
He bowed slightly at her approach. “You are the forest sprite who has added lushness to my garden pot, thank you. I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. I’m Aaron.”
“Of Aaron’s Antiques,” Sam said, recognizing his name from the sign. “Pleased to meet you.”
Wearing her long black hair in multiple braids tied with feathers and beads similar to her ghost-catcher nets, Mariah spoke up. “The spirit is caught here. He’s furious and arousing the other spirits. My nets can only stop so much before all hell. . . and that could be literal. . . breaks loose. We need to pass him on. Val is trying, but she can’t do it by herself. We need safe ground for a ceremony.”
“What is safe ground?” Sam asked, thinking of landslides and earthquakes and wondering why they’d worry about those.
Mariah gestured toward town. “The vortex is still safe, and the land beyond it, but that’s two miles away. We usually use Kennedy land but the cops won’t let us up there. We need somewhere unpolluted by evil and accessible for as many of our group as possible.”