Sapphire Nights (Crystal Magic Book 1)(71)
Water bottles were distributed. The crowd grew larger as the sun lowered in the sky. Walker chewed the rest of his sandwich while waiting for Aaron’s return.
The crowd grew quiet the moment they saw him jogging back down the hill.
“Valdis wanted to commune with her parents,” Aaron called when he came close enough for them to hear.
How the hell did he know that, Walker wondered, but he kept his mouth shut.
“I checked and she’s not at the cemetery,” Aaron continued. “The police have trampled the place, so there’s no sign of her.”
They waited until he caught his breath and gulped from the water Mariah handed him.
“Daisy went to look after the artwork,” Aaron finally said, wiping his mouth.
“What artwork?” Mariah demanded.
Everyone else looked equally mystified.
Chapter 23
Sam stomped her new-old boots to test the amount of give and listened to the Lucys argue over what Aaron felt about what Daisy thought. She had as little understanding of the conversation as Walker. He was frowning, looking at his watch, and glancing up at the sun. At least she understood his concern.
She took his hand and nodded at the burned swathe of mountain above the town. “If they saw Daisy driving toward the burn site, then let’s follow the road,” she murmured. “I’m hoping Valdis is just sleeping on a gravestone, but the burn site is dangerous.”
“Leadership required,” he said with an understanding laugh. He squeezed her hand and loaded bottles of water into his pockets. “I don’t suppose Tullah has backpacks in that magical shop of hers?”
“I didn’t ask and didn’t receive,” Sam said with a frown. “I guess I’m just assuming Daisy can’t get far from her cart. Her knees aren’t strong enough to hold her weight, and the road runs out, doesn’t it?”
Walker nodded. “About a mile up. Okay, let’s go. Let your magic stick lead the way.”
She shoved bottles of water in her camp short pockets. Even knowing Walker was poking fun at her walking stick, she followed its vibrations toward the nearest hiking path up the mountain.
A few moments later, Harvey and Tullah joined them.
Since they gave no explanation, Sam figured it was up to her to draw them out. She needed to find out more about this odd town from which she apparently came. “How did Aaron know Daisy was thinking about artwork?”
“Psychometry,” Harvey offered. “He believes he can capture or read the thoughts and emotions of objects people have touched. Psychologists call it wishful thinking and delusional.”
Sam’s eyebrows shot up at this amount of information from the usually taciturn musician and wood carver.
Before she could question, Walker added, “Whatever Aaron does, he’s good at it. His antique store is just a front for hanging out up here. He’s an international art and antique dealer and owns a fortune in old crap he keeps in warehouses around the country.”
Tullah gave an unladylike whistle. “I didn’t know that. He’s a bit of a grouch, but he’s identified some of my finds as belonging to old-time movie stars, even found stills from the films in some cases. I make enough selling them on the internet to keep operating. Wish I could take him with me when I go shopping.”
“If you’re making a profit, why don’t you and Aaron own your own shops?” Sam asked, still torn by the knowledge that her father’s family might heave all these people out of their businesses.
“A few years back, when I started, I was leery of my reception, so leasing made sense. Aaron was probably the same. We’re newcomers, but the old-timers welcomed us with open arms. But now when we want to buy, there’s nothing available.” Tullah sounded sad.
“It would be a shame to lose the community,” Sam said, when no one else did.
“Amber says you can stop that from happening.” Harvey pounded his stick in the ground, then cut away from the road toward the blackened edge of the fire’s path.
Sam could actually feel the vibration he was following. She didn’t know what it was, just that the energy was different in that direction. Maybe she should have taken physics. She knew about tectonic faults and how the earth moved, but no one had told her she might feel an earthquake coming—although animals were said to sense it. Daisy was hardly an earthquake though. And feeling energy wouldn’t save a town.
“Wishful thinking,” Walker said, repeating Harvey’s own words. “Sam was a student a few weeks ago. You can’t lay that kind of burden on her.”
Sam squeezed his arm and nodded downhill. “We have company. Tell us how to start a proper search.”
The Lucys had finally divided up and were ready to follow direction. To Sam’s surprise, the man Mariah had once pointed out as the town mayor, Sam’s Uncle Montgomery, had joined them. He and Walker were the only ones without one of Harvey’s staffs.
Walker waited until they were all within range of hearing to ask, “Does anyone have any notion of where Daisy might go up here?”
“Only thing up here is the old Ingersson farm,” Monty responded.
Sam studied him in the growing darkness. She knew he was only about five years older than she. He had a healthy California bronze look. His light brown hair had sun-touched gold tips, making him seem remotely more approachable than his older brother.