Sapphire Nights (Crystal Magic Book 1)(54)

While men bulldozed a dirt boundary around town, she filled her meager watering can. A breeze off the ocean pushed the oily smoke east, back toward the ridge where the fire had started. The flames were no longer visible, so the worst was under control. She could do nothing but watch helplessly, so she returned to the new flowers flourishing in Dinah’s planter. She supposed she could prepare sandwiches and drinks for the firefighters, but right now, she needed her fingers in earth, or she might ignite new fires.

She looked up a little later when Xavier’s shadow fell over her as she dug in leaf compost. The rental agent and his green blazer looked even grayer than usual.

“Mr. Gump said you’d leave. Why are you still here?” he asked with what sounded like curiosity.

Sam sat back on her heels and studied the man. Really, with his balding head and sagging jaws, he almost looked like a basset hound. She was still keyed up and not feeling cooperative. What the hell did Gump, the city man, have to do with anything? “Why do you ask?”

His stooped shoulders lifted in what might have been a shrug. “It’s not safe here. I thought maybe you’d need a better place to stay now that Cass is back.”

That was an odd way of looking at things. Originally, she’d been planning on returning to the university, where her knowledge was at least respected. But now that she knew she wasn’t in danger of starving, she felt as if she had unfinished business in Hillvale. She couldn’t tell if he wanted her to leave or stay.

“I’ll let you know if I need a place,” she said, reluctant to hurt the odd man’s feelings. He seemed like a strangely inarticulate person to hang around high-powered types like Kurt Kennedy and Alan Gump.

Looking worried and confused, he nodded, and ambled off across the street. The odd encounter drained some of the tension from her.

Mariah stuck her head out the café door. “If you’re done communing with nature, we need more hands on deck in here.”

She couldn’t rely on her small trust fund to provide a living forever. Brushing off her hands, Sam saluted Mariah and carried her tools back to their storage place.



Wiped, Walker strode into the café carrying Sam’s backpack and hoping to find a gallon of iced water to drown himself in. Half the town was there. Before he could even open his mouth, they bustled out of the kitchen with boxes of plastic wrapped sandwiches and ice coolers he hoped were filled with drinks.

“The landline at the lodge is dead, and we couldn’t phone to ask if it was safe to bring these to you,” Dinah called as she sliced tomatoes and fed them out on lettuce leaves in an assembly line on the counter. “Want us to send Aaron up while you cool off a bit?”

Walker sought Sam in the crowd but didn’t see her. If he were really fortunate, someone had driven her out of town. But with his luck, Carmel had probably murdered her. The backpack hung like a heavy weight off his shoulder. He needed to return it.

“Much appreciated,” he said with a nod, taking a glass handed to him. “They’re just looking for hot spots now. Send Aaron up. I need to report to the sheriff.”

“Any word on who burned the cross?” Mariah asked from behind the counter. She was wrapping the sandwiches Dinah prepared, while the antique dealer carried the boxes out to his truck.

“They have to wait until it cools, but out there on those rocks, they won’t find much. If anyone saw anything suspicious, you need to let us know.” He glared meaningfully at Mariah, who’d been the last person he’d seen flinging flame around.

“Not us, I swear,” Mariah said, holding out her hand palm up. “Crosses are the last thing we’d burn.”

“Come sit down over here, dear,” Cass called from one of the few booths. “The sheriff allows time to eat.”

Dinah handed him a sandwich and Tullah refilled his water glass. Figuring he’d find out more if he talked to the locals, Walker worked his way through the crowd to the back booth. Only when he got there did he see Sam.

“You’ve got Tullah doing your job?” he asked, then almost bit his tongue. Why the sarcasm? Especially after he’d dragged her off the mountain over his shoulder and then practically thrown her at Carmel. He’d be lucky she didn’t cut him off at the groin.

She took the backpack he handed her and studied him warily. “It got you, too, didn’t it?”

He stood there awkwardly, balancing his sandwich and drink, until Sam relented and scooted over to let him sit. “Got me how?”

“The evil force,” Cass said with cheer. “Sam is finally convinced that evil exists.”

“Negativity,” Sam corrected. “Negativity is not necessarily evil. Saying spiteful things isn’t evil.”

“Will I regret sitting here?” Walker asked, nearly draining his glass before biting into his sandwich. Dinah could even make cheese and tomato taste like heaven.

“You need to stop talking like a Null if you want my aunt to tell you why your father may have been up here,” Sam warned.

Since she was glaring at Cass instead of him, Walker settled down to listen. “And there’s a reason she’s telling me now?”

“I had no reason to know your father died here,” Cass said with dignity. “You deserve to know that it’s my fault.”

Pow, right in the gut. Walker lost his appetite and studied the old woman. She still looked like a university professor, and she didn’t show an ounce of guilt, just regret. “Okay, I’ll bite. What did you do?”