Grace Under Fury Page 10
Chief Fox took a protective step in front of me. “Miss LeRoux, I assure you that we’re acting in the best interest of the town and for no other purpose. There’s some evidence to suggest the outbreak started in this shop. The mayor wants an inspection done ASAP.”
“And my family hasn’t set foot in here,” I said. They wouldn’t dream of it.
“No,” Corinne said, her voice icy cold, “but you have.”
I reeled back. “I would never sabotage you or anyone else. I love the coffee here, and that’s the highest compliment. I’m a huge coffee snob. Ask anyone.”
“You got the snob part right,” Corinne said.
“I’m going to politely ask your customers to leave now,” the chief said. “I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t interfere. I don’t want to have to arrest you on top of everything else.”
Corinne lowered her head. “I won’t, Chief. I may not like it, but I am a law-abiding citizen.” Her words were clipped and I knew she was seething. Her anger was palpable.
I waited for Chief Fox to address the customers before moving closer to the counter. “Corinne, please believe me. I’ll do whatever I can to help figure this out.”
Corinne’s eyes met mine. “I don’t eve understand why you’re here. You’re FBM,” she hissed.
“And this is a supernatural outbreak,” I said softly. “The chief and the mayor don’t know, so they’re kind of flying blind.” I paused. “We all are.”
Corinne’s nails clicked on the counter as she contemplated my statement. “Fine, but I want to help, too. This is my shop and I’m not leaving its fate in someone else’s hands. It’s taken me too long to get to this point.”
A LeRoux witch offering to help a Fury? Would wonders never cease?
“If there’s an opportunity for you to pitch in, I won’t object,” I said.
When the last customer finally vacated the building, the chief turned to address Corinne.
“I’ll let you know when the inspection is,” Chief Fox said.
“Thanks. Can I stay to observe?” Corinne asked. “If something in here is making people sick, I want to know what it is.”
“I’m sure you can be present as a silent observer,” Chief Fox said. He arched an eyebrow at me. “I’m not sure if that’s possible for you.”
“You don’t think the inspector will let me watch?”
“I don’t think you’re capable of being a silent observer,” he said.
Ah. Fair enough. “That’s okay. I don’t need to micromanage.”
The chief picked up an incoming call. “I’ve got to go. I trust you’ll lock up?”
Corinne nodded. “If I don’t, I’m sure Eden won’t hesitate to arrest me.”
Chief Fox tipped an imaginary hat on his way out.
“He is one fine specimen,” Corinne said, watching him leave. “If I weren’t so annoyed about my shop, I’d be tempted to ask him out.”
My head jerked toward her. “You would?”
“Is that a problem?” Corinne asked. “You’re not interested from what I hear.” She shrugged. “Not sure I’d mind even if you were. It’s not like I owe anyone in your family any loyalty.”
“No,” I said. “That’s true.”
Corinne seemed to soften. “Listen to me. I sound like my mom.” She released a gentle sigh. “There’s no reason we can’t be friends, Eden.”
“Actually, there are a lot of reasons.”
“Fine, but I’m still a fan of girl code. If you’ve got eyes on the chief, then say the word. I’m happy to wait to see how you two play out.”
I hesitated. How could I stand in her way? I had no claim on him. He’d expressed an interest in me and I’d had to turn him down. If he decided to date Corinne LeRoux, that was his prerogative.
“I’m not interested,” I said, with a heavy heart.
She smiled. “Well, you’re straight-up crazy in that case, but you’re a Fury, so I guess I already knew that.”
Chapter Eleven
I returned to the office to do some research on supernatural infections and diseases that could cause the relevant symptoms. Neville got a little too enthusiastic about the science and I tuned him out like I tended to tune out my tax preparer.
A knock on the door to the office startled both of us. I shot a quizzical look at Neville. “Answer it,” I said.
His anxious gaze shifted from the door to me. “You should really answer it, O’ Furious One.”
“I’m going to be furious in two seconds if you don’t get up and answer the door.” The moment the threat left my mouth, I realized exactly who I sounded like and I felt a wave of nausea roll over me.
Neville hustled to the front of the office and peered out the window before opening the door. “It’s an old woman,” he called over his shoulder.
“I can hear you,” a gravelly voice said.
“Uh oh,” I murmured. I knew that voice.
“Can I help you?” Neville asked in a polite tone.
“I’m looking for Eden,” the elderly voice said. “Her aunt told me she works here.”
I’d have to have a word with Aunt Thora later. “Hello, Mrs. Paulson,” I said, craning my neck to see her. “Neville, why don’t you let her in?”
Neville stepped aside, giving me a curious look.
“Mrs. Paulson is my neighbor,” I explained.
The old woman seemed relieved when she spotted me. “I can’t believe this is where they put your office, though I suppose they figure it will cut down on travel time since so much crime happens in this section of town.”
“It’s not the prettiest part of Chipping Cheddar,” I agreed, “but it’s actually not as crime-ridden as you think.” In fact, the biggest crime I’d noticed so far involved parking without putting money in the meters. I wasn’t about to rat anyone out for that. It wasn’t my job to generate revenue for the government.
Mrs. Paulson bustled toward me, hugging an oversized tote bag to her chest. “I need help.”
“From me?”
Neville returned to his desk, but I could tell he was intently listening to our conversation.
“I think I have a virus,” she said.
I inspected her closely. “You don’t seem sick.”
She whacked me with her bag. “Not me. My computer.”
I rubbed my arm. “What makes you think I can fix a virus on your computer?”
“Because that’s your job,” Mrs. Paulson said.
“I’m not in IT,” I said. “I’m a federal agent.”
Mrs. Paulson paid me no heed. She took out her laptop and set it in front of me on the desk. “It’s so slow now that it’s basically useless. I can’t catch up on TMZ unless I use my phone.”
I opened the lid and stared at the screen. “Have you tried turning it off and on again?”
Behind me, Neville covered a laugh with a cough.
“You’re supposed to be detecting cybercrime in here,” Mrs. Paulson said. “There might be criminal activity on my computer. What if someone has downloaded…” She lowered her voice. “The pornography.”
“It’s not the title of a movie, Mrs. Paulson,” I said. “It’s just porn.”
She smacked my arm. “Don’t say it like that.”
“Like the word that it is?” I asked.
“Don’t give it a casual nickname, like it’s your friend. People might get the wrong idea about you. Goodness knows your family already suffers from a certain reputation.”
“You’re right. I apologize.” The fastest way to get her out of my office was to fix her computer, which I couldn’t do. “Hey, Neville. I have something really official to work on. Would you mind helping Mrs. Paulson with her virus?”
“Certainly.” He came over to scrutinize the laptop. I scooted over to make room for him at the desk. “Hmm. Netscape Navigator? I haven’t seen that in use since…”
“Watch yourself, pudgy man,” Mrs. Paulson said. “No insulting references to dates.”
“Apologi
es. I think I can help.” He tapped away on the keys and I pretended to busy myself with “official business.” I couldn’t risk her glimpsing my research topics.
Mrs. Paulson bent over his shoulder and watched his every move. “Is it a virus?”
“Several, actually,” he said.
“It’s probably the YouTube,” she said. “Sometimes my son sends me a link to something he thinks is funny. I swear he must spend all his time surfing on the YouTube.”
I bit back a smile. Mrs. Paulson’ effort to keep up on current vernacular was commendable, much better than Grandma’s fondness for the urban dictionary.
“I need to run a few updates, if you don’t mind waiting,” Neville said.
“I might wander into that donut place next door,” she said. “Is it safe?”
“Holes is perfectly safe,” I said. “Tell Paige we sent you and she’ll take good care of you.”
“Excellent. Can I offer anyone a Boston cream?” she asked.
Neville perked up at the mention of his favorite pastry. “Yes, please.”
She patted his head. “A young man with manners. How refreshing.” She gave me a pointed look. “Your family could learn a thing or two from this gentleman.”
“I’m sure he could learn a thing or two from them as well,” I said.
Mrs. Paulson lifted her chin a fraction. “Nothing good, I’m sure.”
She wasn’t wrong there.
“Take your time, Mrs. Paulson,” Neville said. “This will take more than a few minutes.”
She padded out of the office with her tote bag pressed against her.
“Thanks for doing this,” I said. “I don’t know what my aunt was thinking sending her here.”
“It’s no problem,” Neville said. “It sounds like she doesn’t have family members close enough to offer assistance.”
“I think her son lives in Atlanta with his family,” I said. “Her husband died years ago.”
“Maybe she’s lonely,” he said. “Maybe that’s the reason she’s so keen to stay abreast of the neighborhood business.”
“Or she’s just nosy and her nosiness pushed her son all the way to Atlanta,” I said.
He gave me a meaningful look. “Not every family is yours, Agent Fury.”
“Thank the gods.” I peeked at him. “You don’t say much about your family.”
“There isn’t much to tell. We don’t engage in Fury-style shenanigans.”
“And the world is a better place for it.”
He chuckled. “Fighting crime in San Francisco must have seemed like a vacation for you.”
I leaned back against my chair. “It was blissful. Chasing down drug traffickers was a cakewalk compared with dealing with my family. Nobody knew me there, so there was no history. No assumptions.”
“People like Mrs. Paulson must make that difficult for you to outrun yourself here,” Neville said.
I offered a small smile. “My family makes it impossible to outrun myself here. Wherever I go, there they are.”
“I think it’s there you are.”
I thought about my threat a few minutes ago. “Yes, that, too.”
Mrs. Paulson returned with a box of donuts and a bright smile. “That Paige is adorable,” she said. “Can’t say much for the husband, though, and what kind of name is Shia? It sounds like his parents didn’t speak English.”
Neville accepted the proffered box. “Your computer is all set.”
“Wonderful.” She pulled a change purse from her bag. “How much do I owe you?” She began to dump coins onto the desk.
“No worries, Mrs. Paulson,” he said. “We’re government officials. We can’t accept payment.”
“Oh, in that case…” She scooped the coins off the edge of the desk and back into the change purse. “More for the slot machine.”
“Where do you gamble?” I asked. “The nearest casino is in Perryville.”
“Buddy Watts has a…” She stopped abruptly. “Nowhere. Forget I mentioned it.”
“Anything else we can help you with?” Neville asked.
I could tell her by her expression that there was and immediately wished he hadn’t asked. If she wanted to put her feet on the desk and show us her bunions, I was sending her to my aunt as payback.
“Now that you mention it, I also have a problem with my cabbages, but I don’t think that’s something you can help me with,” she said.
“Why not?” I asked.
“Because I’ve seen your poor excuse for a garden,” she replied. “Aside from your aunt’s lemon trees, it’s severely lacking.” Clearly, she hadn’t seen my aunt’s lemon trees recently.
“What seems to be the trouble with your cabbages?” I asked. It was entirely possible that my family had done something to them in retaliation for…well, for breathing in the wrong direction.
“They have holes in the leaves,” Mrs. Paulson said.
“Maybe a rabbit?” I suggested.
“No, I know what rabbit bites look like,” she said. “And deer can’t get past the fence.”
“Aunt Thora had an issue with her lemon trees recently,” I said. “Maybe there’s a connection. Can you describe the holes?”
“I can do better than that,” she said. “I can show you pictures I took on my phone.” She reached into her oversized tote bag and produced a phone. She scrolled through photos until she found the one she wanted. “Here you go.”
I took the phone and examined the photos of the cabbages. “You have Netscape Navigator on your computer, but you take professional quality photos on your phone?” Sure enough, the leaves were poked full of holes. “What do you think, Neville?”
He came over to view the photos. “I agree that a rabbit isn’t responsible.”
“Know of anything else that leaves tiny holes in a pattern like that?” I asked.
“A pest of some sort,” he said.
I hoped my aunt’s insistence on having non-native plants didn’t attract an invasive species.
“Would you mind sending me a copy of the picture?” I asked.
“You really think you can help me?” Mrs. Paulson asked.
“I don’t know, but I’m happy to try.”
She peered at me over the rim of her glasses. “Hmm. Maybe you’re not like the rest of your family after all.”
I couldn’t resist a smile. “Thank you. Believe it or not, I consider that the highest compliment.”
I arrived home from the office, feeling unwell and dispirited. I knew Corinne’s interest in the chief shouldn’t bother me, but it did. I tried my best to shake it off. I had far more important matters to worry about than the romantic entanglements of Chief Sawyer Fox.
My brother sat on a stool at the kitchen island, reading through a magazine.
“Looking for one of your ads?” I asked.
Anton glanced up and grimaced. “Yikes. You look like you crawled out of a swamp and then went dumpster diving.”
“Gee, thanks. How are the kids feeling?” I asked.
“Ryan sleeps it off like a champ and Olivia’s in good spirits, despite her annoyance at missing school,” Anton said. “I don’t think it’s hitting her as hard. The humans are definitely worse off, from what I can tell.”
“They don’t have the antibodies to fight a supernatural infection,” I said.
Olivia rounded the corner, looking adorable in a frilly dress, tights, a pair of my mother’s high heels, and a face caked with makeup. “Aunt Eden, I’ve been doing makeovers.”
“I can see that,” I said. “I think you were beautiful before, but you’re equally beautiful now.”
Olivia flashed a dazzling smile. “I’m not talking about me, silly.”
“Oh.” I shot my brother a quizzical look as Olivia wobbled away. “Ryan?”
“Aunt Thora took him for a walk in the stroller to give him fresh air,” Anton said.
Phew. At least my aunt wouldn’t be teaching him how to pronounce the word “evil” in seven languages.
“Princess Buttercup?” I croaked.
My hellhound sat in the red wagon, wearing a pink bonnet and a ribbon with hearts tied around her neck. I’d never seen my hound look so undignified and I’d seen her at her constipated worst.
“Do you like her lipstick?” Olivia asked. “I think the color brings out her eyes.”
I peered at the hellhound. Sure enough, there was a swipe of red lipstick across the hound’s mouth. To her credit, Princess Buttercup seemed perfectly at ease with the whole ordeal. Apparently, once you’d been chained and left for dead outside the underworld, everything else was gravy.
“You do incredible work,” Anton said. “I’m glad you’ve found time to be productive while you’re home from school.”
“Wait, there’s more,” Olivia said. A shrill whistle followed and Charlemagne slithered around the corner, sporting a blue bonnet and bright pink spots of rouge on his cheeks—or whatever passed for cheeks on the face of a snake.
“Wow,” I said, because that was the only word I could muster.
“Now I’ll do you,” Olivia announced.
I turned to see the ‘you’ who was standing behind me.
“She means you,” Anton said.
“Oh, that’s okay,” I said. “I don’t really do makeovers.”
“That’s what Mom-mom says.” Olivia studied me like an artist contemplating her next creation. “I can see where I might be able to work some magic.”
I glanced nervously at my brother. “You don’t mean actual magic, do you?”
Olivia’s eyes sparked at the suggestion. “Can I, Daddy? I promise I’ll be super careful.”
“It might be a good chance to practice.”
I held up my hands. “Whoa. Hold on. No one is practicing magic on my face.”
“Why not?” Grandma asked. “It might be an improvement.”
I balked. “Where did you come from, ninja? Take off those slippers so you can’t sneak up on anyone.”
“Who’s sneaking?” Grandma asked. “I merely wandered into my own kitchen.”
“To be honest, I’m glad you’re here. I need your help,” I said.