Jaz Parks 5 - One More Bite

I know one tall, buzz cut, and handsome bumming around in the stratus that you haven’t talked to in a while, said Granny May as she bent over her brown wicker laundry basket. He’d probably have an idea. Or at least give you some peace in the matter.

He’s not allowed to interfere. Besides.

What?

He doesn’t like Vayl.

So?

I haven’t figured out how I feel about that, okay? I thought we were all pretty much on the same team.

There’s dissent in every rank.

But he’s supposed to be above that. Literally. He’s an Eldhayr, for crying out loud!

Granny May shoved back the edge of the sheet she’d just clipped to the clothesline. From what I understand, so are you.

Okay, we’re not even going there. You got that?

She gave a whatever shrug. Raoul is your Spirit Guide. Sooner or later you’re going to have to work something out with him.

You dropped a sock.

Where?

With my sensible side distracted, I ignored the problem a while longer while I assured Cole I was fine. I moved toward the murmuring crowd filling the back section of the front hall and heading toward the open doors of the great room, where most of the activities would take place. I took a program from a woman dressed in the Hoppringhill tartan and used it to fan myself as I leaned against a wall and eyed the rest of Tearlach’s guests back at the registration tables. Cole sidled up beside me.

“I’ll bet this place is a bitch to clean,” I said as I motioned to the series of velvet banners hanging from the ceiling.

Cole didn’t want to talk about dusting. At least not that kind. “Tell me you weren’t going to pull on that nice woman,” he murmured.

Vayl’s voice filled my left ear. “Did the clerk threaten Floraidh?”

I didn’t want to tell him the truth. But what kind of lie would make me sound less crazed? I said, “Her face morphed into somebody else’s while I was looking at her, talked to me in his voice, and then changed back.”

“Who?”in t>

“Samos.”

He didn’t laugh. Not even that choking gasp that passed for his chuckle. “Has this happened before?”

“Yeah, once on the plane. And once at Gatwick, when I was standing at the counter, waiting to buy a muffin.”

“We need to discuss this. But now Floraidh and Dormal are moving toward the great room. I overheard them discussing their table setup. Perhaps you two should take your places.”

Cole and I allowed the Scidairans to pass and then moved into the crowd after them. As we ambled toward the arched openings leading to a vast, open-span room, Rhona came up from behind me and grasped my forearm, her grip bruising. “Come on, now, let me give you the grand tour,” she said as she dragged me forward. “On the way we can talk about parliamentary reform. Did you know my MP has a degree in Occult Studies?”

Just as I was narrowing my choices of pressure points and taking advance pleasure in the look on Rhona’s face when I knocked her out, Vayl reached my side. Rolling our plan into motion he said, “Rhona, I believe Iona is looking for you. They cannot seem to find Viv’s identification tag or her name on the list. The woman is getting rude, which is upsetting her. She says she wants to go back to the B and B.”

Rhona dropped her hand and swung around like she was about to pound through the doors of the nearest saloon and gun down the first hombre who crossed her. “These people are complete nitwits! Now do you see why I prefer dealing with the dead?” As she stalked off, Vayl slipped Cole the missing papers.

Palming them so neatly I wondered if he’d worked his way through college as a card shark, Cole said, “Hang on, Rhona. Maybe I can help. I once organized my Scout troop’s father-son wiener roast.” Flashing us a grin, he strode after her.

Chapter Fifteen

With the Jepson group about to fall into Cole’s debt and his charm dialed to life-of-the-party, Vayl and I felt comfortable turning our backs on them for the time it took to lock on to the rest of Tearlach’s boarders and assess the most likely means of Bea’s attack, should it come during the opening ceremonies.

Lesley and Humphrey had hustled to the front row, where they’d scooped up the seats to the right of the aisle and, from the look of their campsite, didn’t intend to release them for the duration of the Con. Floraidh and Dormal, weighed down with supplies for their booth, were working their way through a swelling crowd of avid ghost fans who’d only now begun to seat themselves. Most still stood in groups of anywhere from two to fifteen among the double rows of chairs set up in the east half of the red-carpeted room. They kept looking eagerly toward a temporary platform, on which the organizers had placed a podium with a microphone wired to two large black speakers that sat at the front corners of the stage. A pair of long, narrow tables set with pitchers of water and glasses, and slightly nicer chairs than the ones reserved for the audience, flanked the podium.

You reached the entire setup via a set of rickety stairs that made me hope all the speakers had sworn off donuts the month before. If the n thy made it safely to their seats, they might be impressed by the roughly plastered wall, which soared to a peak behind them. It had been painted with a massive representation of the Hoppringhill’s coat of arms, five scallops on a crossed scarlet ribbon.