Sand Witches in the Hamptons (9781101597385) (12 page)

BOOK: Sand Witches in the Hamptons (9781101597385)
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C
HAPTER
S
IXTEEN

I
had introductions to make. And injustices to make right.

We decided to stop at my house first to leave Little Red there, so I warned Carinne about my cousin Susan, who was about ten years younger than our new relative. I explained how she'd been sick, but was declared cancer-free by her doctors and Connor Redstone. Which did not mean something dire couldn't happen to her before her thirty-seventh birthday.

“She's the baby of the family and everyone dotes on her, so please, please, do not tell us her future if it's sad or ugly. Draw it and throw it away, swallow it, burn it, anything.”

Carinne took a death grip on the pencil, her eyebrows tight together as we drove up the dirt road toward Garland Farms.

Susan had already left for work at the restaurant, thank goodness. She'd taken my mother's old white Outback, which meant I'd need a ride home later, adding to the complications.

I did not invite Carinne into my mother's house. That felt disloyal to me. The invitation had to come from Mom. Besides, that poor cat had been kept caged for so long, it had stopped meowing and just moaned occasionally. I tried not to look at Carinne's face at the lack of hospitality. I'm sure she needed a bathroom as much as I did, so I didn't use one either. Fair is fair.

I greeted Mom's senior rescue dogs that had been left in Susan's care, gave them and Red dog biscuits, and got back in Lou's car to drive to Rosehill. I still had trouble thinking of it as Royce now, but that's what it was, an enclave of the extrasensory, and where Carinne belonged.

Lou called ahead to alert Lily, my mother's cousin and housekeeper there. We bypassed the downtown streets of Paumanok Harbor village and drove around to the long private driveway up to the old estate. Carinne was speechless at the sight of the huge mansion on acres of grounds, now turning into a study center and research facility. We could see the construction vans and piles of lumber. The workers must have gone home for the day.

“Are you sure I should be here? I mean, it's so luxurious. I thought the facility would be like a private school or something small and rustic, in a quiet little village. Maybe rooms in someone's house.”

“The village is quiet, all right. It's almost dead in winter. And this
was
someone's house. Then it got rented out to movie moguls and such. If Royce hadn't purchased it, the whole huge plot of land might have been divided up for mini-mansions and no one could have appreciated its views and grandeur.”

“It's grand, all right,” Kenneth said. “Wait till you see the gardens and the pools and tennis courts.”

Wait till you see Cousin Lily, I thought, dreading the moment.

Lou directed Kenneth to drive around back to the service entrance and the rear doors that led to the kitchens and Lily's own apartment. Maybe he wanted to shelter Carinne from the intimidating formal entry, which could hold my entire Manhattan apartment. Maybe he wanted to avoid Monteith, the newly appointed director, a grim despot, according to everyone who'd met the new Brit overseer.

I held the back door open for Carinne, who clutched the cat carrier in front of her like a shield.

“What are you dragging home now, Willy?” Lily started. Then she saw me, behind Carinne. Her head swiveled from one of us to the other.

“Oh. My. God. Your mother was right after all. Tate cheated on her.”

“No, he did not,” I snapped. “Carinne was conceived before they were married. And we will not discuss this, not in front of Carinne or the people from DUE, and definitely not with my mother. Do you hear me? There is no reason to upset her before she arrives. And no reason to make Carinne feel unwelcome.”

Cousin Lily's official title was housekeeper, with a large staff of cooks, maids, and handymen—the groundskeeper had his own crew—but she looked on herself as hostess of the place. As such, she would never be rude to a guest. I hoped.

She bit her lip, but gestured to the platters of sandwiches she'd prepared, the pitchers of iced tea and cider. Kenneth snagged a half sandwich and a napkin before going back out to help sort the luggage. He and Colin were to have the same rooms at the gatehouse they'd had when we chased down a kidnapper. Lou would stay at Grandma Eve's, as usual, and Harris got assigned to me.

“I don't need a bodyguard,” I tried to tell Lou, who had filled a plate and sat at the table. “Not with you right down the street at the farmhouse.”

“Yeah, but I need a man to listen to the phone, check the security, watch out for stalkers. You get Harris.” No discussion. No arguments.

I tried anyway. “It'll be crowded when Mom gets back.”

“We'll have the perps behind bars before then.”

I started to lead Carinne to the nearest bathroom, an elegant affair toward the front of the house, but the professor stepped out of what had been the servants' elevator, right into the large kitchen area. He looked pale and thinner, but his eyes lit up when he saw me. Or Carinne.

“Ah, Willow, my dear. At last. You must do something about finding poor Oey. Then we can speak about the Andanstans.”

I cleared my throat, behind Carinne.

He adjusted his glasses. “Ah, what a lovely surprise. You must be our new guest, Miss O'Dell. Charmed to meet you.”

Carinne didn't seem to know whether to curtsy or offer her hand. I kissed the old dear's cheek and said, “I am happy to see you, too.”

He patted my shoulder, peered at my pink hair without commenting, then turned back to Carinne. “I hope you do not mind, but I have hired you on as my assistant. That's to satisfy our resident cabbagehead, Monteith, who wanted to house you in the students' dormitories in the attics. I work odd hours, so you'll have a room next to mine, with your own bath, of course, but sharing my balcony and the hot tub. There will be a small monthly stipend, with room and board included. Is that agreeable to you, my dear?”

“I never expected . . . That is, how can I ever repay . . . I have a cat,” she babbled, overcome.

“Excellent. I adore cats. Please call me Jimmie. Oh, do you play chess?”

“Yes, but I may be rusty. My father was state collegiate chess champion in Florida, and I managed to defeat him several times before he passed on.”

“Better and better. Come, we'll show your furry friend its new residence and allow you to refresh yourself. Then we can return for Miss Lily's excellent tea.”

But I needed to talk to him. And I needed a bathroom, too, and some of Lily's oatmeal cookies. “You'll be happy to know we might have solved some of Carinne's problems already. She can explain later.”

“Excellent. I cannot wait to hear about it.” Professor Harmon smiled at her, then at me. “I am so glad you brought Miss O'Dell to us.”

“Well, I am not,” came from a newcomer striding down the hall. “Especially if that is an animal in that carrier case.”

“Milo Monteith,” my old friend said on a sigh, before making the formal introductions.

Monteith was tall and lanky and needed to have his brown curls trimmed and styled. He obviously hadn't been eating Lily's cooking for long, or been introduced to Janie at the hair salon or Vincent the barber. Perhaps the gardener had cut his hair last. He did have nice blue eyes, except for the cold glare in them. Worst of all, he wore a suit.

Nothing marked a man as an alien to Paumanok Harbor, an outsider, more than a suit. No one around here ever wore them except lawyers and undertakers. Even Mr. Whitside at the bank stuck to a bow tie and a vest.

On one memorable occasion, when a local fisherman died, his friends and prospective pallbearers discovered they had one jacket between them. They gave it to the dead guy to wear.

Monteith's suit did not even fit properly, with the coat lopsided and the pockets baggy. I was not impressed.

Carinne stepped closer to me.

Monteith crossed his arms over his chest, barring the elevator. “We do not permit animals. Not for the ancient mariner”—he jerked his head toward the professor—“and not for a person with no credentials or documented history.”

Carinne gave me a beseeching look. We both knew the cat wouldn't be happy at my house, and Carinne wouldn't be happy without the cat. Saggy suit and stiff posture aside, Monteith annoyed me. Pick on Jimmie, intimidate my sister? I'd had a bad enough day and I needed to pee. So I crossed my arms over my own chest and let him have a piece of my mind, one of the few I could spare. “What's with the royal we, Monteith, eh? Who made you commandant of this outpost?”

“The directors at—”

I didn't let him finish. “The directors at Royce wanted this place to serve and protect the uniquely gifted and talented. Well, Carinne O'Dell is both. In fact, Lou is thinking this very minute of how her skills can save lives.”

“Not this minute,” Lou grumbled from across the room. “Right now I'm eating Miss Lily's amazing rice pudding.”

I ignored him, after checking to see he'd left some oatmeal cookies. “Have you met Lou? Heard his reputation? You wouldn't want to mess with him, trust me.”

The ruthless DUE agent spooned more pudding into his mouth, then grinned. “You tell him, Willy.”

“And trying to deny Dr. Harmon an assistant? Do you know how valuable his work is? Priceless, that's what. The whole village would be underwater if not for him.”

The professor blushed.

“If he wants to keep a parrot or a . . . pet goldfish, that's his business. And I'll bet the powers that be at Royce care more for his contentment than they do for yours.”

“Please, Willow, don't yell at Mr. Monteith,” Carinne pleaded. “He's only doing his job.”

“No, his job is to meet our needs. We need you, you need the cat.” I turned back to Monteith. “She has no other family nearby.” Lily and Lou, Harris, Colin, and Kenneth all cleared their throats or coughed or clattered their silverware. “The cat stays. Do you understand?”

Carinne promised the cat would never leave her room. “And she won't hurt anything either. She's fastidious about her litter box, and I change it twice a day. I wouldn't expect anyone to clean up after me,” she told Lily, “and I'd be happy to help in the kitchen or whatever else you need.”

Lily smiled at her and dished out another serving of pudding. “I'll save it from the ravening hordes for after you get settled.”

Monteith fumbled in his baggy jacket pocket and took out a heavy silver yo-yo that had ball bearings spinning on the outside. No wonder his clothes did not fall right. A freaking yo-yo. That made me angrier than ever. “See? She's willing to do anything. What are you willing to do except make people miserable? From what I hear, that's your only talent, aside from crunching numbers. And now you're playing with a toy?”

“It soothes me. So I don't lose my temper, like an intemperate, spoiled child.”

“Who are you calling an intemperate, spoiled child?”

Carinne touched my shoulder and whispered in my ear: “Willow, his yo-yo has no string.”

“Of course it has a string. It wouldn't come back and circle and land on his finger and . . .” Bloody hell, the yo-yo had no string. Nor did the other one he took out of another pocket and had spinning and doing tricks in perfect unison with the first.

“Okay, you're a wizard. But that doesn't give you the right to run ragged over everyone else. You are supposed to be furthering the cause, discovering and developing unknown talents. Protecting them, encouraging them, using them to benefit people everywhere.”

“Hear, hear,” Dr. Harmon said, bringing me a glass of cider and a cookie. “I did not want to throw my own weight around, but you have put the blighter in his place nicely. Too bad Monte's my godson.”

“Your godson?”

“I'm not proud of it either,” Monteith said, making one yo-yo whiz around his head, the other around his shoulders. “And yes, one of my duties is to see the old codger is safe and not jauntering off to face down monsters by himself, or following some otherworld avian into the unknown.”

“You should have told me,” I said to Jimmie.

He shrugged his narrow shoulders. “You didn't tell me about Miss O'Dell, did you?”

Hmpph. “That's not the point. He has to treat you better. And Carinne, too.”

Monteith replied to that: “I should think it might be a great deal easier than dealing with you. Miss O'Dell appears quite agreeable, except for the cat.”

Carinne stared at her toes, bright color in her cheeks. “Willow's had a hard day. She's really very kind.”

The blasted yo-yos rolled up his arm, across his neck and down the other side. If he was trying to distract me, it was working.

“And Carinne's had a hard time, too. But not as hard as you'll have if you keep picking on senior citizens and women in awkward circumstances. She's been picked on all her life and it stops now, this instant. Her own mother did not understand. We do. She is one of us. You treat her like the treasure she is or . . . or I'll sic Lou on you.”

Lou was pushing me out the door. “You've done enough for now. Carinne will do fine, won't you, kiddo?”

Carinne nodded and smiled at him, and at Monteith.

“Monte and Lily and Jimmie will take good care of her,” Lou told me. “And her cat. You'll see her in the morning. Right now your grandmother is waiting for us. She and I are headed for dinner on Shelter Island. She wants to ask Doc Lassiter to come back and work with Carinne.”

But I was supposed to have supper with my grandmother. Squash soup and cornbread and apple pie on her hand-thrown pottery dishes.

* * *

Instead she handed me a recycled plastic ice cream tub on her way out the door.

“Two minutes in the microwave. Even someone dumb enough to dye her hair pink should be able to get that right.”

BOOK: Sand Witches in the Hamptons (9781101597385)
9.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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