“Shut the door, you’re letting in a draft,” Maddie commanded from the dining room.
As he entered the room, Erik confided to Cassie, “I just flew into O’Hare. When I called Maddie to check in, she told me to come straight here for a debriefing. She didn’t mention anything about a party.”
“Doesn’t matter. Help yourself to some food,” Cassie offered.
Erik shrugged pragmatically and headed for the buffet.
Griffin watched the interchange in silent disapproval. Under his breath, he muttered, “Not so much as a ‘Happy Birthday’? That’s a bit cheeky even for him.”
“I thought you two made up after we got back from Tibet,” Cassie remarked, walking back toward the dining room herself.
“We did. I’m merely offended that Erik continues to be Erik. His ubiquitous sense of entitlement never fails to appall.”
The pythia grinned. “Can’t help you with that. He is who he’s always been.” She handed Griffin a plate. “Here. Have some cake.”
The scrivener smiled ruefully. “Very clever of you. If I’m eating I’m not sniping.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cassie protested innocently.
***
Two hours later, Cassie stood in the doorway bidding goodnight to the last of her guests. Rhonda received a special caution to “watch her back.” The kitchen had been tidied, and everyone sent home with containers of leftovers. Turning back into the apartment, the pythia was startled to realize that Faye, Maddie, Griffin, and Erik were all standing together waiting for her.
“Good,” Maddie observed succinctly. “Now we can get down to business.”
Chapter 3—Formal Invitation
Zach surreptitiously checked his watch. It was almost nine PM. He glanced across the table at Hannah who was scanning a menu. The two sat in a booth at the village diner. They’d just walked over from the tiny local movie theater where they’d caught an early show. Unlike the multiplex at the mall, the town’s lone theater stubbornly clung to the tradition of showing only one movie per week. Fortunately, it was a film that both Zach and Hannah had wanted to see. After sharing a tub of popcorn to stave off hunger for a few hours, they’d gone to the only restaurant on the green that was still open.
Much as Zach enjoyed having Hannah to himself for an entire evening, he was acting on Arkana orders. He’d leapt at the chance to be of service. As a tyro, the boy hadn’t been trusted with anything more confidential than filing budget reports. This assignment was as close to top secret as he was likely to get for a while. Faye had told him to keep Hannah out until shortly before curfew. On Friday night, that meant eleven o’clock. His ancestor had been vague on the details but, apparently, she had some secret business to transact. Since Faye planned to return before their date was over, it would circumvent any awkward questions from Hannah about the old woman’s whereabouts. The mission suited Zach perfectly. He had an agenda of his own to pursue with his girlfriend this evening.
The waitress returned to take their orders. Once she left, Zach leaned over the table and said, “Hannah, I’m a junior this year.”
She gave him a quizzical look. “Yes, I know. And I’m a sophomore. Ever since school started last fall.”
He smiled nervously. “Well, there’s this thing. It’s sort of like a rite of passage for guys my age.”
She peered at him and whispered, “You haven’t started drag racing, have you?”
“Drag racing!” His head jerked back in surprise. “Where’d you get an idea like that?”
“Well, I was watching an old movie last night called Rebel Without a Cause, and the high school boys in the movie were drag racing. Personally, I think you shouldn’t try something like that. In fact, I don’t think your car would hold together long enough to go over a cliff.”
“Over a...” Zach’s mouth hung open. “What?”
“It’s very dangerous, and you shouldn’t try it. I’m sure Granny Faye wouldn’t want you to either.”
The boy shook his head in disbelief. “What you’re talking about isn’t a drag race. It’s a chicken race.”
Hannah scowled. “There weren’t any chickens in the movie. They were racing cars.”
Zach gritted his teeth and tried again. “No, I mean what you described is called a chicken race. Usually, it’s when two guys aim their cars straight at each other and whichever one swerves to the side first is the loser because he ‘chickens out.’ Get it?”
“Oh, I see.” She nodded sagely. “Then what’s a drag race?”
He shrugged. “That’s just two guys racing against each other over a short distance. Whoever has the fastest car wins.”
“So that’s the kind of racing you do. Drag racing?”
“I don’t drag race!” Zach exclaimed.
“Good.” Hannah gave a relieved smile. “I’m glad I was able to talk you out of it in time.”
“I never said...” Zach threw his hands up helplessly just as the waitress returned with their soft drinks. Removing the paper cover from his straw, the boy dipped it into his soda glass, eyeing his companion warily. “Can we get back to the topic?”
“I thought we were on the topic. I just convinced you to stop drag racing.”
“How can somebody as smart as you be soooo linear?” he demanded loudly.
Hannah sat up straight in the booth, clearly offended. “You don’t have to bite my head off, Zachary.” She only used his full name when she was annoyed with him.
The boy moderated his pitch. “I was trying to explain about a rite of passage that happens to juniors in high school, and it’s got nothing to do with poultry or engines.”
The waitress came back with a tray and served them both veggie burgers and fries. She thumped down bottles of ketchup and mustard and then retreated back to the kitchen.
When they were alone, Zach tackled the subject once again. “This rite of passage that I was talking about is a school event that only kids in my class get to attend. Of course, they can bring whoever they want.”
Hannah gulped down a mouthful of burger and stared at him. “Some of
