Sapphire Nights (Crystal Magic Book 1)(91)

“Our mayor is always in his office. You’d think we were a mega-metropolis requiring a squadron of paperwork.” Mariah watched with interest as Sam divided Amber’s tarot deck in piles on Cass’s dining table. “But he’ll know something’s wrong if I walk in with you. What you have better be good.”

“I have no understanding of what you just said, and what I have is probably not good, so maybe we should call it off. We can go help Daisy make lamassu.” Sam sat back in her chair and let Amber do the honors of turning the cards.

Amber flipped the first three and looked alarmed.

Plied with Cass’s sangria, Sam wasn’t too concerned. “If you don’t like what you see in the cards, do we need an astrologer to tell us if the sun is in the wrong house?”

“The planets, poppet, and no, the cards are enough. Maybe you shouldn’t go anywhere today. I’ve never drawn the Devil, Death, and the Hanged Man in sequence before.” Amber stared at the cards. “The forces are very strong right now. Forget Monty. Go home and stay there.”

“You’ve told me the cards have multiple meanings. Death can mean the end of a project or a way of life or any number of things. Maybe it means the death of secrets.” Impatient with their superstition, Sam tapped the Hanged Man card. “We make our own fates.”

Amber didn’t look any more relieved. Sam couldn’t help that.

“Maybe you should listen to Amber, dear,” Cass said, her usually smooth face lined with worry. “Her interpretations are in tune with the Universe. Visit Monty another day.”

Cass had to know what she meant to tell her other family. But her great-aunt had brought her to Hillvale knowing the disturbance she would cause.

Sam retrieved her staff and stood up. Some Lucy superstitions had a practical base. Speak softly and carry a big stick suited her, if she’d just learn to keep her big mouth shut. “And tomorrow may never come. Procrastination only drags out the anxiety.”

“If we visit Monty in broad daylight,” Mariah murmured as they left the older Lucys frantically flipping cards, “everyone in town will know.”

“And this is a bad thing why?” Sam started down the hill toward town.

“They’ll say we’re conspiring with the Nulls. They’ll shut us out.” Mariah reluctantly followed.

Reject her, as she’d been rejected so often. Sam hated being an outcast in this town to which she had so many ties, but maybe she’d grown up a little. Being herself first mattered, she finally understood. She couldn’t be everyone’s good little girl.

“No,” she argued. “No more secrets. The only way we can move forward is to open all lines of communication.” Sam hoped she knew what she was doing. It wasn’t as if a master’s degree gave her experience in the real world. She prayed announcing to the Nulls who she was and who owned the farm above town wouldn’t get her killed, as Cass seemed to fear.

“This better be worth ruining my Lucy reputation,” Mariah said grumpily.

The front door of the town hall was open, but no one occupied the reception area. It looked like a Chamber of Commerce tourist center with brochures advertising local entertainment and maps for hiking trails.

Mariah indicated the empty office. “No money for staff.”

“And no cash to be guarded, I get it.” Sam started for a door marked Employees Only calling, “Anyone home?”

Mariah muttered a curse, pushed ahead, and opened the door. “Company, Kennedy!”

Sam entered a short hall adorned with aging paintings and photographs. At the end, Montgomery Kennedy stepped out, frowning and shoving his hair out of his face. “What is this, an invasion?”

“A mayor should be accessible to his populace,” Sam said cheerfully. “I’m here to prevent revolution. Are you willing to talk?”

“Revolution? You mean the Lucys holding a sit-down in the parking lot? By all means, let the negotiations begin.” He gestured to the door behind him.

“You have no idea what we can do, Kennedy,” Mariah said defiantly. “We’re organized. We’ll sue if you try to take our town away.”

“Stand down, Mariah. We’ve come to talk, not threaten.” Sam followed her uncle into his office. She studied the serious lack of décor and amenities and chose a worn-out chair that appeared to have been discarded from the lodge lobby.

Mariah sat cross-legged on the floor, forcing Monty to take the other shabby chair on the visitor’s side of the desk if he wanted to see her.

“What do we need to talk about?” the mayor asked wearily. A normally large, handsome man, he had faded to almost the same shade of gray as his brother today.

“Openness and honesty,” Sam said, feeling a tug of concern for her overworked relative. “Before I have my lawyer start looking into the documents Walker claims exist—did you know that I’m an Ingersson and that Val and I own the farm?”

Monty shook his head. “The land, no, of course not. That’s foolish. I did hear talk about you being related to Val, though. I’ll accept it if you do, although I don’t see the resemblance.”

Mariah snorted. “That’s because you’re too blind to see people instead of numbers. Val dyes her hair and hides behind veils. If you ever looked at her, you’d see the resemblance, although admittedly, Sam looks more like Cass and your lot.”