The Granite Key (Arkana Mysteries) (7 page)

Chapter 14
– Latte Questions

Faye carefully backed her late model station wagon into a parallel parking space. She’d almost forgotten how to do that. It was a skill that wasn’t needed much in the outlying area where she lived. This day she had ventured into one of the northern suburbs of the city. It had been devoured so long ago by the metropolis that one couldn’t tell them apart. The suburb had a different name than the city proper but it looked the same—narrow, congested streets blanketed with a thick layer of air pollution.

The old woman stepped to the curb and fed the parking meter. She was dressed in her Sunday best today
—
a spring floral cotton with pearl buttons down the front. Since the weather was still mild, she topped the dress with a light pink cardigan. Faye believed that one should always wear a hat in public. She had chosen a straw brimmed cloche with a green silk band around the middle.

Toddling down the street for half a block, she arrived at her destination. A shop with the unusual name of Buzz ‘n Books. It was a two-story vintage bookstore that served coffee. Unlike its chain store rivals, however, this one seemed to have a personality. The building in which it was housed was about a century old. The brick exterior was in need of tuckpointing. The front door was glass and painted wood but the wood was so warped that the door stuck when one tried to pull the brass handle. To Faye this was a sign that only serious readers should venture inside. She proceeded to do so.

The interior was dark and smelled of espresso and old paper. It was a good smell. One that was oddly comforting. The coffee bar was to her left as she entered. The back half of the shop consisted of floor to ceiling bookcases lined up in rows. At the front of the store, near the plate glass windows were several tables occupied by people with computers. They were probably “surfing the net” as the saying went.

She looked around. He wasn’t here. Her eyes focused on an open stairway leading to a loft. Faye sighed. Oh well, she would get her exercise today. She hobbled up the stairs to the second floor. There were more bookcases on the back wall, more tables in the center of the room and a solitary figure seated at one of them. It was his day off and she hated to interrupt his free time but this couldn’t wait. He was poring over a page in a volume big enough to be an encyclopedia. A man in his early twenties. He was dressed neatly in a V-neck grey sweater over a white dress shirt and striped tie. Despite the casual nature of the establishment, he wore trousers instead of jeans. His hair was light brown and it curled around his temples. At the moment, he was running his fingers distractedly through it and mumbling to himself. “No, that can’t be right. I shall have to cross-check this in Robinson’s Compendium.” He spoke with a British public school accent.

“
Griffin
?” Faye approached cautiously. She was wary of disturbing him when he was researching. It tended to disorient him.

“What?” The young man looked up. His hazel eyes were blank as if he didn’t recognize his visitor. When his mind returned to the present, he looked alarmed. “Oh, Faye, do forgive me!” He jumped out of his chair and came around the table to help her to a seat.

“May I get you something? A coffee perhaps?” He bent his six-foot frame nearly in half to hover attentively at her side.

“Yes, I could use a pick-me-up. It was quite a drive.” Faye laid her purse on the table.

“Of course, absolutely.”
Griffin
had flown halfway down the stairs before he whirled around and asked, “What kind?”

Faye looked puzzled. “I don’t understand.”

He trotted back up to the loft. “I mean what kind of coffee would you like? Columbian, Sumatran, Ethiopian? Would you like light or dark roast? And then there’s the question of temperature. Hot or iced. And what about milk? Soy, rice or cow’s milk? And what size do you want? ”

“Oh, my,” she murmured. “So many choices. In my day we just said coffee and everybody knew what we meant.”

Griffin
waited nervously.

“Why don’t you surprise me?” Faye’s smile was angelic.

A look of dread crossed the young man’s face at the prospect of surprising her.

“Just do your best, dear. I’m sure whatever you choose will be fine.”

Griffin
nodded uncertainly and ran down the stairs to fetch her beverage.

Faye looked around the loft. Very quiet. Noise didn’t seem to filter up from the lower floor and all the other customers were seated below. She knew
Griffin
was a solitary creature which was the reason he chose to sequester himself in this aerie. Less chance of being disturbed. That suited her needs perfectly considering what they were about to discuss.

The young man returned in a few minutes bearing an oversized cup and saucer. “I didn’t think you’d enjoy anything extreme so I made a conservative choice.” He set it down in front of her. “There you are. A hot cup of medium roast Brazilian with cow’s cream.”

He returned to his seat and watched in apprehensive silence as she took her first sip.

Faye nodded her approval. “This is really very good. Just the way I like it. Brazilian, you say?”

Griffin
relaxed and flashed a smile. “Yes, the trick, you see, is in the roasting process. A medium roast will give just enough body without overpowering the palate.”

“Heavens, it sounds as if you’re discussing wine.” She laughed.

“In a way, I suppose they’re quite similar. Coffee drinking in this country is a very serious business.”

She took another sip. “What do you drink when you go back to
England
for visits?”

“Instant coffee.”

“Really?” Faye sounded shocked. “Can’t you get anything better?”

“Oh, it’s quite normal, I assure you. Europeans drink it all the time. And with no ill effects, I might add.”

Faye gave a half smile. She wasn’t convinced of his enthusiasm.

Griffin
sighed guiltily. “All right. You’ve caught me out. I confess I prefer the marvelous variety one finds in American coffeehouses.”

Faye made a mental note. Given his high-strung behavior, she wondered if he liked American-style coffee a bit too much for his own good. Of course, she was polite and didn’t tell him that. Instead, she opened her purse to retrieve a thick envelope which she slid across the table. “What do you make of that?” she asked.

Griffin
removed the envelope’s contents.
 
He scanned the photographs with growing excitement. “I say, is this what I think it is?”

Faye nodded gravely.

“But this is brilliant!” He shuffled through them again before placing them on the tabletop side by side. “Fascinating pictograms.”

“Can you translate any of them?”

He shook his head, still intent on the pictures. “Sorry, but I haven’t a clue what they mean.”

“You will try though, won’t you?” she urged.

Griffin
looked up and stared at Faye, bringing his mind back into focus. “Oh, absolutely! This is quite exciting, isn’t it? We had no idea what object Sybil was recovering and here we sit with photographs of it.” He scowled for a moment. “By the bye, how do you come to have these?”

“Cassie brought them with her when she visited me.” Faye sounded troubled.

The young man took note. “Didn’t your talk go well?”

“It went very well. During the course of the afternoon, I discovered that she is our new Pythia.”

“What!”

Griffin
’s exclamation was so loud that Faye winced. “Please, dear, keep your voice down. We do belong to a secret society, after all.”

The young man overcompensated by lowering his voice to a whisper. “But this is incredible, Faye! This is beyond coincidence! If I believed in such things, I would call it a miracle.”

Faye sighed. “It is certainly a stroke of good fortune for us but Cassie is having some trouble coming to terms with it.”

Griffin
’s face took on a look of owlish concern. “You mean she doesn’t want to be the Pythia?” He sounded as if he could barely comprehend such a possibility.

“I think she needs time to accept her new role. I do believe that she’ll come around in the end.”

“But what if she doesn’t?”
Griffin
’s tone was anxious. “What are we to do then?”

Faye remained serene. “I am quite confident she will reconsider. After all, we are the only people who can give her the answers she seeks about her sister’s death. I expect her to realize that soon enough.”
 
She picked up the page with random numbers scribbled across it and pushed it toward him. “Cassie thinks these are the dimensions of the object in the photographs.”

The young man took the page and puzzled over it for a few moments. “Dimensions, but why—”

Faye cut in. “I think Sybil wanted us to build a replica in case we no longer had the original.”

“But why should we want a replica?”
Griffin
was mystified.

The old woman picked up one of the photos and contemplated it. “Cassie gave me a hint when she talked about our elusive cowboy. She had a dream in which she saw the encounter in the antique shop. She said he wanted Sybil to tell him where the key was. When he ransacked her apartment, he took only this stone ruler. I would assume it is some kind of key. In order to know what it unlocks, we would need an exact copy. Do you think you could make one using the measurements I’ve given you?”

The young man became pensive. “I can’t do it myself, of course, but I think there are a few chaps at the vault who may have the necessary skills. I’ll get in touch with them first thing tomorrow.”

Faye took another sip of coffee. She chose her next words carefully. “I believe building this replica should be your top priority.”

“Well, of course,”
Griffin
readily agreed. “It’s quite a fascinating puzzle, isn’t it?”

“It’s more than that,” Faye countered in a low voice. “It may have something to do with the Sage Stone.”

“What!”
Griffin
half rose out of his chair at the mention of those words.

This time a few curious people on the lower level glanced upward toward the loft.

Faye raised her eyebrows but said nothing.

“Very sorry.”
Griffin
cleared his throat uncomfortably and resettled himself. He leaned in closer across the table. “How can you be sure this object is connected to…” he trailed off as if afraid to utter the words.

“I can’t be sure. Simply an offhanded comment Sybil made several months ago. She said she was on the trail of ‘the find of the century.’ Since I hear that phrase from field operatives almost every week, I didn’t pay much attention. Until now. I believe she may have been right. We need to be certain before I alarm anyone else so you’ll have to proceed with the utmost secrecy.”

“You haven’t even told Maddie?”

“No and I won’t until we know what we’re dealing with.” Faye sighed. “For the time being, I want a semblance of normality to prevail. Especially when it comes Cassie. She shouldn’t be pulled into this maelstrom unless it becomes absolutely necessary.”

“But Faye,” the young man protested. “I’m a terrible liar!”