“I’ll make a fresh pot,” said Kaz, first affirming it was okay with me. “Thatch, can you help me make scrambled eggs for everyone?”
Watching their interactions from the hall gave me a moment to get my bearings. What had happened to the mundane rhythm of my days, those ones that consisted of inspecting orchards, trading bits of gossip with Kerry at the office, and keeping a loose track of my sons’ comings and goings?
One shoulder to the wall, I cupped the left side of my lower belly. The raw area remained swollen and tender, as palpable as the anger rising inside—anger at my ex for further distancing me from my legacy; anger at myself for allowing it in the first place; anger that my sons and Leilani and I now had to go through our days living with an unfamiliar and uninvited level of fear.
I puffed out a quick exhale and dropped the urge to castigate myself. Or tried to. People who wanted to teach and support me and my sons had shown up, and it was better to embrace their assistance and move forward than get stuck in the past. And that saying—knowledge is power—was so true. Doug had taken my power; Rose and Tanner and others were offering me the knowledge that would help me take my power back.
Thatcher placed a large platter of scrambled eggs at the center of the table.
I joined everyone gathering for breakfast and directed my first comment to my youngest. “Thatch, I think it would be prudent to respond to your father but to not make any promises until we know what magic he has and what he’s up to.”
He nodded, his face solemn.
“And Leilani,” I continued, “I’d really like to speak to your fathers. Soon. Whatever it is that’s going on could affect you too, simply because you’re connected to Harper.”
Another solemn teenage face nodded at me.
I didn’t really like this new role, She Who Sets Limits. “I have an investigation going on, and it’s linked to something Tanner’s been looking into for months now. School doesn’t start for another five weeks, and I think this is a perfect time for all of us,” I looked at each of my sons, and Leilani, “to take our training seriously and to start today.”
Three faces went from hesitant to excited.
“Tanner. Kaz.” I brought the two druids into our family circle. “We need help. All three of these kids have summer jobs, and they can’t miss work tomorrow. Plus, my ex texted Thatcher and said he wants to see both him and Harper. Have you ever heard of the... What was the name of the clinic, Thatch?”
“The Grand St. Kitts.”
Tanner gave a low whistle. “That’s a private clinic for Magicals.”
I threw up my hands. “Harper, go get me a thumb drive. Please. And give it to Tanner.”
“What? Why?”
“So he can plug it into his head and download everything he knows about the magical sector in our area so I can stop feeling like I have a lifetime of catching up to do.”
The two teens looked at each other and made that weird face, the one that says Mom is off her rocker.
“I’m kidding.” I turned to the adult males, who looked almost as perplexed. “What can we do to protect these three?”
“I can stay here today with Kaz,” Tanner offered, “and get us started on making amulets. I’ll heal faster if I’m in direct contact with the ground, and I’ve been eyeing that garden chair of yours.” He swung his injured leg around, stood, and gripped the back of the chair tightly. “Oh, and by the way, Calliope,” he said, bending forward and pointing at the back of his head. “There should be a USB port in there somewhere.”
Chapter 17
After breakfast, I drove into town without any sense of being followed. I was ridiculously relieved to be in my work domain, even with Kerry’s heightened concern as she swiped a handful of papers off her desk and followed me to my office.
“I’m not going to sugar coat this, boss,” Kerry said. “There’s something weird going on with the apple growers on this island.”
“But they’re usually such a mild-mannered bunch. Did you get the information I was looking for?”
Kerry simultaneously nodded and shook her head. “Yes and no. Most of the orchards rely on the same four to eight popular varieties. About half the growers have their top-tier specialties, which they must have divvied up ages ago.” She placed a stack of print outs on my desk and pointed to the one on top. “And while all of this is public knowledge, more or less, getting these guys to give up the goods on what else they’re growing is like…” She smirked. “It’s basically an impossible task. Unless you’re willing to show up at their property with a warrant. Or spy.”
“Did you get the topographical maps?” I neatened the edges of the stack of papers and tucked them into an accordion folder.
“I was just printing those out. I had to grab a new set of ink cartridges for the printer.” She turned to leave. “Anything else?”
“Keep your eyes opened wide and your ears glued to the grapevine,” I said. “And call me anytime. I’m going to drop in on Abi and Cliff. I’ll also share this with Agent Marechal and see what he has to say.”
“Ooh, any of his cohorts coming in again?”
“I think they might all be spoken for, but I’ll see if he has any other dashing single men under his supervision.”
“You do that, Calliope. It’s in the fine print of my job description.”
I chuckled. Kerry and I didn’t socialize outside of the office, but she showed up, stayed late when needed, and occasionally updated me on the island’s social undercurrents. Keeping her happy was a priority.
“Oh, and another thing,” she said, pivoting around her desk and artfully tucking her skirt under the backs of her thighs. “Two other growers said they’d gotten substantial offers on their properties this past
