“I drove up as soon as Ethan called to tell me what happened.” Diana leaned closer and added in an undertone, “He was nearly hysterical and I figured he wouldn’t be much help if he got you all riled up too.”
Fiona managed a smile as her brother looked at them with a wary expression. “Thank you.”
She’d considered—only considered, and only for the space of thirty seconds or so—calling Gideon last night, to tell him what had happened…but no.
It wouldn’t do to begin to rely on him at all. Besides, he might not even be at home. Or alone.
She simply hadn’t wanted to find out that he wasn’t alone at four in the morning.
“You look like hell.” In the no-nonsense way of many of his gender, Ethan blurted out the raw truth.
Though she couldn’t see herself, Fiona was well aware the skin at her wrists, ankles, and jaw was raw and chapped. And from when she was at the urgent care center last night, she knew that the welt on her head gave her forehead an off-balance tilt. No doubt her hair was its usual scraggly mess, and God only knew what the rest of her face looked like.
“Thanks for the breaking news, dear brother,” she retorted as Diana set the tray on the bed next to her. Along with the tea—which smelled like mint and lemon—there were two pieces of toast, a boiled egg, and a small pot of jam. “Thank you,” she added to the other woman in a dry, raspy voice. “I just realized I’m really hungry.”
“And the tea will help your throat,” Diana said, lifting the pot to pour for her. “Orbra told me to put a lot of honey in it.”
“Uh, Fifi, there are a few missed calls on your cell,” Ethan said as he edged closer to the bed and set her smartphone next to the tray. “I dug it out of your bag last night to charge it—how the hell do you ever find anything in there any way? It’s like the depths of hell in that bag. And why do you keep your phone on silent all the time? Do you know how many calls and texts you probably miss?”
Fiona flapped a hand, batting him away as if he were an annoying gnat. Which he was, often enough. “Well, I check it a few times a day. When I remember. Plus I don’t like the sound of the ring. It’s too loud and jarring.”
“You know you can change the ringtone,” Diana said mildly.
“Youcan?” Fiona’s battered voice cracked. “To what?”
Ethan and Diana exchanged glances. “To pretty much anything you want, Fifi,” he said, fighting a grin. “Any sound, or a song, or a chime—whatever. I can do that for you.”
“Thanks, Ethan.” Then she looked at Diana. “Make sure he doesn’t change it to something like ‘The Bitch is Back’.”
“I was thinking more of something like ‘Ding-Dong the Witch is Dead’,” her brother replied with a grin. Then he sobered, as if remembering the warning note from last night’s break-in. “Look, Fi, this might seem like fun and games—getting pampered in bed and everything—but someoneattackedyou last night. I think you’re going to really need to amp up your security, and I don’t want you to be there by yourself anymore.”
“Well, duh,” she replied airily—even as the insides of her stomach twisted. “And I didn’t plan to be there by myself last night, anyway.”
“To state the obvious, clearly someone wants something they believe is in the shop,” Diana said, sitting on the edge of the bed near Fiona’s toes. “And I’m certain it’s no mere antique.”
“It’s got to have something to do with the skeleton,” Fiona said, looking down at the cell phone Ethan had returned to her.
Three missed calls…from Gideon.
And two texts.
She felt a swell of something warm bubble in her stomach. Gideon hadn’t spent the night with Rachel. And he’d called her.
Fiona couldn’t help a smile as she sipped from the tea—definitely mint—as relief coursed through her.
“So, uh, who’s this HG3 person who was trying to reach you last night?” Ethan asked, obviously noticing her reaction to the phone. “And this morning?”
Diana’s eyes shot to Fiona’s, and she gave her a knowing smile and furtive nod.Sheknew.
“Oh, it’s just—”
Ethan’s black lab Cady suddenly exploded into wild barking from somewhere out in the house, and he gave Fiona an exasperated look. “That’s her ‘someone’s here’ bark,” he said, rising from where he’d been sitting on the other side of the bed. “Probably the UPS man. I’m expecting a contract from my agent. We just sold the Spanish rights. Cheers to me!” Ethan was an anthropology professor at University of Chicago who’d written a very successful, mainstream book about death and dying.
“So…” Diana said as Ethan left to check on Cady. She had a wicked gleam in her eyes. “HG3, hm? This wouldn’t be that tall, cool glass of water I met at the shop the other day, would it? The very handsome lawyer?”
“Maybe.” Fiona couldn’t completely stifle a smile.
“The stiff and stuffy Gideon Nath the Third?” Diana teased. “Maybe he’s not so stiff and stuffy after all?”
