Mist on the Meadow (12 page)

Marissa swallowed hard. Chuck waggled his
eyebrows her direction and she wondered if he realized how
unattractive the gesture was. She glanced at Uncle Pete, who
squinted at his plate. His hand hovered over the food.

Aunt Corrine leaned toward her. “Don’t pay
any attention to them. I’m sure if Wolf wanted to pursue his
baseball, he would have. He’s done quite well with the family
business, haven’t you Wolf?”

Wolf coughed and pulled his hand away. The
break produced a mild cramp, but Marissa had learned from her
experience last night and consciously turned her attention away
from Wolf. She knew all she needed to about the family business,
and if he went ahead with his plans tomorrow, Harper Electronics
wouldn’t be a family business anymore. Wolf was already suspicious
of how she knew the things she’d told him, so she opted for
ignorance.

“Do you all work at Harper Electronics?” she
asked.

Uncle Pete sighed and leaned back in his
chair. “My brother and I took the company to where it is today.
Then Wolf came on after college.” He cast a glance at Chuck, who
continued to inhale food. “Chuck hasn’t quite found his niche
yet.”

Chuck sneered between bites.

Marissa focused on the conversation with
Uncle Pete. “It must mean a lot to you, then, being a family
business.”

“My grandfather started the business,” Wolf
said. “It was a hardware company then. With the advancement of
electronics, my father and my uncle took it to the next level and
sold off the division that makes hammers and screwdrivers.”

“But we still earn royalties on the hand
tools,” his uncle said. “You’ve probably seen Harper Tools in the
stores.”

“I have a box of them at the café,” Marissa
said with a smile.

Uncle Pete gave her a nod. “Atta girl. Us
redheads, we gotta stick together.”

But Wolf’s uncle had wavy white hair now.

Aunt Corrine smiled at Marissa. “Flame red,
it was. He wore a cap back then. He didn’t like people calling him
Red.”

Uncle Pete’s blurry eyes took on a quizzical
look. He stared at Marissa’s head. “You have red hair,” he said
more quietly. His hands shook while he reached for his empty
tumbler.

“And you just noticed that now,” Wolf said
under his breath.

“So that’s why she’s here,” Uncle Pete
said.

Wolf looked at his uncle. “Excuse me?”

“Found yourself a
Kund
—” but before he
could finish, he doubled over in pain.

“What did I find?” Wolf asked.

Marissa’s heart skipped a beat. “Maybe I
should go.”

Aunt Corrine pushed away from the table and
rushed to Uncle Pete’s side. “Do you want me to call the
doctor?”

Uncle Pete pushed her away. “You know they
can’t do anything. Leave me alone. It’ll pass.”

Chuck grumbled. “Too much whiskey.”

“It’s no wonder our guest wants to leave.
What a thing to say about your father.” Aunt Corrine pursed her
lips.

“Well, look at him.” Chuck pointed to Uncle
Pete.

Aunt Corrine glanced at Marissa. “He doesn’t
always drink this much. Please don’t think poorly of us. He has
these attacks every now and then.”

When he says things he isn’t supposed
to
, Marissa thought. She swallowed hard. Was he like Uncle
Balt?

Marissa pushed away from the table. “I’m
sorry. I should have stayed home today. My great-uncle is ill and I
should be spending Christmas with him.” She turned to Wolf. “I can
call a cab.”

“I’ll take you,” he said, and then he turned
to his aunt. “I’m sorry, Aunt Corrine.”

“You’re coming back, aren’t you, Wolf?”

He took a deep breath. “I don’t think
so.”

As Marissa passed Uncle Pete, he reached out
to grab her arm. “Don’t think I don’t know what you are.”

“That’s enough,” Wolf said. “I don’t know
what you think she is, but this is Christmas. Can’t you at least
pretend to have manners one day a year?”

Uncle Pete raised his eyebrows at Marissa.
“He doesn’t know?”

Marissa scowled. “He probably does now.”

Wolf’s voice took on an ominous tone. “Know
what?”

Uncle Pete flailed his arms and rose from his
chair. “I’d like to speak with our guest before she leaves.
Alone.”

“Like hell,” Wolf said, and then he pulled
Marissa to the front door and yanked her coat from the closet.
“You’re going to tell me what all this is about.”

He opened the front door and halted on the
porch. Marissa followed his gaze toward the street. A snowplow had
been down the road and a two-foot ridge of snow blocked the end of
the driveway.

“Fan-flaming-tastic,” Marissa muttered.

Wolf groaned. “Nice. I’m torn between working
out my frustration on the snow and saying screw it and walking over
to the festival, unless you’re anxious to get home. What do you
think?”

“Oh, the festival wins, but the ridge of snow
isn’t going anywhere, I’m thinking. Your cousin doesn’t seem the
type to shovel, and your uncle isn’t in any condition.”

“Which leaves my aunt. Which makes me think I
should.” Wolf ran a hand through his hair. “But more likely, the
snow will still be here when we get back. My car is the one blocked
in. They’re not going anywhere.” He looked up at the leaden sky.
“At least the temperature doesn’t seem quite so cold. Will you be
warm enough?”

“Yep,” she said without hesitation. “And if I
remember correctly, they have blankets on the sleigh rides. We
could always go that route.”

Wolf grinned and wrapped his hand around her
arm. “I like the way you think. Can I buy you a cup of warm
cider?”

“I’d love it.”

* * *

Wolf squeezed Marissa’s taught shoulders.
Certainly she understood he wouldn’t let the subject drop. He would
have his answers, but that didn’t mean he had to act like a jerk.
Marissa had tolerated enough rude behavior from the rest of his
family.

“Sleigh ride?” She was less likely to jump
from a moving carriage, and the ride would take them at least half
an hour, enough time to find out what she knew.

Marissa nodded, her gloved hands wrapped
around the cup of cider he’d given her. The driver helped her in
and covered their legs with the advertised blanket.

Once the horse began to move, Wolf plunged
ahead with his interrogation. “My uncle was about to call you a
Kundigerin,
wasn’t he?”

She spoke into the top of her cup.
“Probably.”

“Are you?”

“Yes.”

So he wasn’t the one in denial, but why
wouldn’t she tell him when he’d asked earlier? “What does that
mean?”

Marissa sipped her cider and glanced ahead.
He wondered for a few brief seconds if she wouldn’t answer. “It
means I know things,” she said.

“Like about Harper Electronics.”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I’m not permitted to speak of it.”

“We’re talking corporate espionage?”

She let out a short laugh. “No. Before you
ran into my car the other day, the only Harper I’d ever met was
your grandmother.”

“Then how do you know about what’s going to
happen tomorrow?”

Marissa scowled again. “Because I’m—because
of what I am.”

She wasn’t getting off that easy. “You’re
going to have to lay it out for me, because I’m not buying this,
whatever it is.”

“I can’t explain,” she said, and drained the
cider.

“Try.”

She let out a slow breath and pulled off one
of her gloves. “Give me your hand.”

He hesitated. His grandmother had done the
same thing. She’d take his hand and stare into his eyes every time
she wanted to know ‘the truth.’ As if she could read his thoughts.
What would Marissa see?

She shook her hand toward him again. “You
want me to explain? Give me your hand.”

Wolf looked into those sapphire blue eyes
again and remembered the way the büche she’d made for dessert had
affected him the night before.
What’re you gonna do when the
witch comes for you?

She raised an eyebrow and readied to put her
glove back on. If he wanted her to explain, he was going to have to
play by her rules. The future of the family business hung on the
information she possessed. Wolf laid his hand in hers and a warm
rush passed between them.

“I didn’t drug the büche,” she said, “and I’m
not a witch.”

A chill ran down his spine that had nothing
to do with the weather. Wolf attempted to withdraw his hand, but
she held on tight.

“I’m pretty new at this, so I’m not sure I
can explain, but I’ll tell you what I
do
know. I seem to
understand more when I’m in direct contact, like this.” She stopped
and drew in a short breath.

Her cheeks shone red from the cold. Her eyes
glittered and he had a strong urge to kiss her, an urge he fought
back. “I’m listening,” he said instead.

She pulled away, suddenly shy. Did she know
he wanted to kiss her? Wolf rolled his eyes. He didn’t really
believe all this, did he? “Harper Electronics,” he said again.

“You’ve been thinking about the fraud audit
and how it will irreparably divide you from the rest of your
family.”

The chill returned. “I can’t let the business
go bankrupt.”

“But it isn’t your uncle, not directly.”

“Then who is it?”

“I don’t know.”

He wasn’t making any progress. Wolf heaved a
sigh. “You said you know things.”

When she raised her eyes to his again, she
looked angry. “I told you, this is new to me. I don’t understand
how it works. It’s as if I pick up pieces from the people around
me, inherit their knowledge through proximity. I know your parents
drove a blue Buick the day they died, but that’s all the person who
told me knew. I know you quit baseball because your dad wasn’t
around to watch you anymore.” She stopped and put her hands to her
mouth and for the second time she said, “Fan-flaming-tastic.”

The phrase made him smile, but his head
buzzed with the fact this woman had so much inside information.
“Maybe you’re a stalker,” he said.

“Then drive me home and be done with me,” she
said.

“Not yet,” he said. “If you know so much,
where’s all the Harper inventory going?”

“The company,” she said quickly. “Your uncle
doesn’t want the responsibility. He only wants the prestige and the
paycheck, but he also doesn’t want to be one-upped by a snot-nosed
nephew.” Again she put her hands to her mouth. “I don’t think we
should talk about this anymore.”

“And it was just getting interesting. How do
you know my uncle?”

“Never met him before today,” she said.

“You still haven’t answered my question. My
grandmother told me the
Kundigerin
would help me. At this
stage, I’m hoping that means my missing inventory at Harper
Electronics.”

Marissa looked away.

Wolf curled his hands into fists and pursed
his lips. “Why is it so hard to get a straight answer?”

“Because I don’t know the answer,” she
whispered.

“Then how do you know it isn’t my uncle? He’s
the one asking for checks during the black-out period. Should I be
looking at Chuck?”

“I don’t get the impression your cousin is
part of this, and he’s a ghost employee anyway, right? He’s already
getting paid not to show up.”

Well, she was right about that. But someone
was stealing the parts. “You said my uncle knows?”

“I also said I don’t understand all of this
yet. Whatever it is, your uncle is afraid. There’s something he
doesn’t want to know, so there’s a big black curtain shutting it
out.”

The sleigh came to an abrupt halt. They were
back in the square and Wolf hadn’t paid attention to where the
sleigh had taken them. And Marissa hadn’t told him anything new.
He’d wasted his time.

“I’ll take you home,” he said.

They stepped out of the sleigh and Marissa
stood stock still. Wolf looked around to see what had caught her
interest.

A bonfire lit the common. Another horse-drawn
sleigh approached as if in slow motion. Hooves clopped and harness
bells jangled. The horse whickered and a cloud formed at the end of
its nose. For an instant, Wolf thought he saw his grandmother
behind the fire. In the time it took him to blink, she was
gone.

When he looked at Marissa, tears shimmered on
her cheeks. She snuffled and wiped her nose with the back of her
glove. “Uncle Balt is dead.”

Marissa couldn’t blame Wolf for keeping his
distance. A week ago, she’d have reacted the same way to someone
who claimed to know the things she did.

She led the way back to his uncle’s house.
Wolf didn’t seem to notice the ridge of snow had been cleared,
courtesy of Uncle Pete. One more thing she seemed to
know
.

Uncle Pete had recognized her for what she
was. He might know the things Uncle Balt could no longer
relate.

Or not
. Hadn’t Uncle Balt said he
didn’t possess any abilities himself? His job was to pass along the
legacy.

And yet Pete Harper had recognized her for
what she was.

They got into the car and drove in silence.
Wolf passed an ambulance as they turned onto her parents’ street.
His fingers curled more tightly around the steering wheel.

She doubted Wolf believed her or wanted her
help.

Marissa had heard Gerda Harper’s words as
clearly as if Wolf’s grandmother had been standing beside them in
the square. “Sheltering them from scandal only brought about
another. It is time for this nonsense to stop,” she’d said.

The words didn’t make any sense to Marissa,
and right now she didn’t care. A shadow had shimmered beside the
bonfire, Uncle Balt’s enigmatic smile the only distinguishable
characteristic in the shadowed face. Like a tendril of smoke in the
frigid air, the shadow wafted toward her and Uncle Balt’s voice
whispered in her ear, “Be happy,
Liebling,
” and then the
wisp dissipated against the landscape.