Fly by Midnight (5 page)

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Authors: Lauren Quick

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Women Sleuths

BOOK: Fly by Midnight
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T
he Rainers lived on an unassuming street in a quiet suburb of Stargazer City. Honora did a few flyovers to get the lay of the neighborhood, which was a basic grid of houses, a park, a shopping center, and a library. Dotting the tree-lined street, the houses were packed tightly together with small square lawns and just enough details to keep them from looking too cookie-cutter. It was pretty typical, nothing strange. In fact, a flyer circling the area was probably the strangest thing going.

Honora was early for the meeting with Jane, so she positioned herself across the street from her house on a quaint stone bench under a tree bare of leaves, giving herself a chance to do a little recon. It would have been a nice, if it weren’t so freezing. Winter was not the best time to do surveillance, but stakeouts weren’t for the faint of heart. Honora whispered one of her favorite camouflage spells and melted completely from view.

Jane Rainer’s hovercraft sat in the driveway, and Honora had seen her client walk past the window a few times, so she knew she was home. Both Jane and Harper thought they were being followed, and from Harper’s description, Honora suspected a Hexer was involved. She closed her eyes and reached out with her senses, hoping to identify any other magical signatures in the area. Perhaps she wasn’t the only cloaked observer of Jane Rainer. But she got nothing, no magical vibrations at all.

From her initial review, she was the only one doing any surveillance of Jane, unless she counted the dog walker or the stroller-pushing nanny. No suspicious hovercrafts drifted by, no obvious signs of a Hexer. After about ten minutes, she checked her watch. Time to get a look inside the Rainer house and have a chat with Jane. She whispered the counter spell, becoming visible once again, crossed the street, and knocked on the door.

Through the glass window flanking the door, a hyperactive terrier jumped up and down, yammering to get outside. Honora tapped lightly on the glass with her fingernail. “Hey there, boy.” She smiled.

The door flung open and a slightly disheveled Jane stood in the doorway, trying to hold the dog back with her foot. “Good to see you again, Ms. Mayhem. Right on time.”

“I’m looking forward to speaking with you. The package you gave me last night was fascinating, to say the least.”

“Please come in, and don’t mind Rex. He gets a little excited. We don’t have guests much, and he loves attention.” She was dressed in a pale blue cardigan covered in elaborate embroidery with a matching shell underneath. The jean skirt she had been wearing last night had been replaced with simple black pants and a pair of ballet flats.

Honora stepped into the vestibule, and Jane led her into a tastefully decorated living room with a matching sofa and love seat adorned with a massive collection of needlepoint pillows.

“Can I get you a glass of water? You must be parched after such a long flight out.” Jane drifted into the kitchen.

“Sure. That would be great.” Honora followed Jane as far as the hallway. She raised her voice as Jane ran the tap. “I’d like to get some personal details—where you work, what your
persuasion
is, that sort of thing.”

Jane brought her a glass. “I’m a researcher studying the culture of Everland. The history of witches is an important, often overlooked subject. I first met Jon at a seminar at the academy. We’re self-proclaimed bookworms,” Jane said with a dreamy expression. They both took a seat on the sofa.

“Interesting. And now?”

“I’m on sabbatical. I’m actually working on a passion project that I’ve been fascinated with my whole life, and I finally have a chance to dive in.” She crossed her legs and relaxed into the sofa, a marked change in her demeanor from their nervous first meeting. Rex barked from the doorway, but Jane did her best to ignore him.

“Really? And what subject is that?” Honora asked as the hyperactive dog scampered into the room and jumped up onto her lap.

“The Otherworld.” Jane grinned girlishly. “I’ve learned enough about witches to last a lifetime. Now, I want to know more about the entire world beyond the wall.”

Honora coughed, practically choking, and took a swig of water.
That can’t possibly be a coincidence,
she thought.

“Are you okay?” Jane patted her on the back. “Rex, get down. Leave our guest alone.” She shooed the dog off the sofa while Honora cleared her throat. The Otherworld was obviously a popular topic with the Rainers.

Honora set her glass down and broached the subject of Jonathan’s job. “I must confess my assistant and I have been reviewing the materials you supplied us on your husband, and I was a little surprised by what I found. Especially Jon’s
secret,
as you put it in the bar.”

“You’re referring to the photos. It’s a shock. But Jon’s a paranoid wizard, and he used the younger appearance as a precaution. His work is sensitive.”

“I see. And specifically, what did your husband do?”

“He’s a magical consultant to the council. His specialty is protection spells, wards, and barriers.” Jane picked a minuscule piece of lint off her pants.

“Prior to his disappearance, did he do or say anything out of the ordinary? Was he having problems at work with his superiors or any coworkers? Perhaps someone on the council was giving him trouble?” Honora asked, digging for a little dirt.

“We don’t talk about his work. We never have. The council expects him to be quiet about such things for security. It’s unconventional, but I’ve learned to live with it,” she said, drumming her fingers on the armrest.

“But you do realize your husband had an important job? I’m wondering why the council wouldn’t do everything they could to find him. I’m curious—what did they tell you when your husband went missing?” It appeared that Sawyer was right and Jane didn’t know what her husband was really working on.

“That’s the problem. They didn’t seem to care. They believed the police report.” Jane shook her head. “They swept Jon’s disappearance under the rug to avoid a scandal, but I think they’re hiding something. They could be the ones behind his disappearance. You just never know with them.”

“Are you suggesting the council was involved with his disappearance?” Honora sat up straighter, digesting Jane’s innuendo. “Have they tried to intimidate you or have they made you feel threatened in any way?” She leaned forward and gave Jane a reassuring look. “You can trust me.”

“Sometimes I wish they had; at least it would be something. The council acts like I don’t even matter. And that affair they cooked up was just pathetic. Do you see why I had to come to you? I had to take finding Jon into my own hands.”

“You’re certain they made it up?”

“Who else?”

Your husband.

But if an employee had gone missing under dubious circumstances, the council would keep the search as low-key as possible, even if that meant keeping Jane ignorant of the progress they were making. After reviewing Jonathan’s résumé, however, Honora had to agree with Jane. The affair felt staged as a deflection, but by whom?

“Do you think his disappearance has anything to do with the witching wall?” Honora asked, directly watching for a flicker of recognition from Jane.

“Why do you think that?” Her eyes flared for a second, and she pulled at the neckline of her sweater.

“You husband works on barrier spells, so I assumed he might be working on it.”

“You really shouldn’t make assumptions. Thought I find the wall interesting, I can’t imagine how he could be a part of it.”

Honora wasn’t buying Jane’s naïve routine. “What about family and friends? Any luck with them?”

“Jonathan doesn’t have any. He’s an only child, and his parents passed away years ago. As for friends, he keeps to himself. It’s just Rex and me. We are all he’s ever needed.”

“What about your relationship with your husband? How’s that going? Any problems? Has your husband ever cheated in the past?”

Jane’s eyes widened. “No, we’re fine.” Her eyes welled with tears. “We’re perfect together. He’s the greatest man I’ve ever known. We never even argue.”

Honora shifted in her seat. “Do you mind if I take a look around? I’ll need to see Jonathan’s office, where he worked, and his personal space. I don’t mean to intrude on your privacy, but it’s important that I look through his things to see if I can find any clues as to what happened to him.”

“Whatever you require. I’ll cooperate fully. His office is in the back, and our bedroom is upstairs. Feel completely free to look around, and if you have any more questions, don’t hesitate to ask.” Jane sniffed. “You’ll find his office and his things exactly as he left them. I haven’t moved a thing.”

Interesting,
Honora thought. If she had a husband who went missing, she’d have torn the place apart, looking for evidence of an affair or something. At least Jane was cooperative. Snooping around was a lot easier with the homeowner’s permission.

Rex raced around the room in tiny circles, but Jane ignored him again.

“Um, I think he needs to go outside and do his business.” Honora raised her brow at Jane, who let out an exasperated sigh.

“Not again. It’s seems like all I do is walk that dog.” She gave him a nudge with the toe of her shoe when he tried to get close to her. “He’s Jon’s dog,” she said, not hiding the annoyance in her voice. “Taking care of Rex was his responsibility.”

Honora was sensing some irritation from the witch. “He’s cute.” She smiled.  “He’s a tiny pain in the butt.” Jane walked toward the door and grabbed the leash hanging on the coat stand.

“Not a dog witch?” Honora followed, and Rex danced around her, so she bent down. A few scratches under his chin quieted him, but his gaze was imploring. He whimpered softly.

“I’m not an animal person.” Jane attached the leash to Rex’s collar. She wound the end around her hand a few times and tugged the dog toward the door, leaving Honora kneeling on the floor. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Please, go ahead and look around all you want. I’ve nothing to hide.”

Everyone has something to hide,
Honora thought.

Once Jane opened the door, the dog made a beeline for the tree in the middle of the yard. “Rex! Get back here!” Jane tripped down the front steps as she was pulled along behind him. She crossed her arms in annoyance while the dog raced around in circles, yapping and scratching at her feet. “Stop it, Rex!”

After sniffing the tree, flower bush, and Jane’s feet, Rex yanked her from the yard and headed down the driveway, tangling the woman in the leash.

Honora noticed a disturbance in the air a few feet away from Jane. It was nothing major, just a shift in the air molecules near her client. Rex barked and leapt around wildly. Honora sensed for magic, but the disturbance was gone. Perhaps it was just glare from the sun.

“Okay, okay. We can go,” Jane said to Rex as he headed toward the park at the end of the street.

“See you in a few.” Honora waved.

The house was a lot like Jane—simple with a touch of cozy. The dining room had a standard table and chairs. Every surface was immaculate, without a molecule of dust. When she went into the kitchen, Honora saw the basic copper pot hanging from a rack, a tiny window herb garden, and a dog bowl. The light scent of pine cleaning potion lingered in the air. Maybe Jane was a nervous cleaner?

Most witches were not minimalist; witches liked their stuff. Even Honora had her own vibe going in her apartment, and she was known to maintain a knickknack-free zone, but this place went to an extreme. That was the tip-off. There were hardly any personal items: no photos stuck to the refrigerator, no memorabilia, no signs of a hobby. Where was Jonathan Rainer’s personality in this place? Where was his stuff?

Honora headed to the office; maybe that was his personal domain. Unfortunately, she found nothing but a row of ink bottles and pens, a potted plant, shelves filled with antique books, and a few empty parchment scrolls. The desk drawers were practically empty. If Jonathan Rainer was a genius wizard who created the modern witching wall, nothing in his house betrayed his true nature.

Upstairs, Honora located a guest bedroom that looked like a shrine to frills and lace and the master bedroom. The couple’s bedroom was massive, with a fireplace, four-poster bed, and a closet large enough to sleep a small family. A basket filled with needlepoint supplies sat next to an overstuffed chair in the corner. Jane’s collection of embroidered cardigans hung in the closet. Half the closet was filled with men’s clothes, all lined up perfectly. The neatness was enough to give Honora hives. There wasn’t a shoe out of place.

Her nose twitched. She sniffed, and her eyes widened. A terrible smell was coming from the master bathroom. Honora peeked inside and witnessed another spotless room, but the stench was wicked nasty, and it was not your typical bathroom odor. In fact, there was a distinct scent of cleaning potions, which unfortunately couldn’t mask the odor rising out of the shower area. She took a hesitant step into the bathroom and eased her way toward the separate shower stall.

A drain that was at least five inches across was embedded in the tile floor. Honora peered down, and a waft of rottenness hit her in the face, making her eyes water. There was definitely something funky down there. What the Hazel had Jane washed down the drain? Raw meat? Her stomach rolled over. Honora pulled her wand out of an inside jacket pocket and waved it over the screws holding the metal plate in place. In seconds, Honora had the drain cover off, and she peered into the dank depths of the pipe.

“Illuminus,” she whispered, and a tiny ball of light appeared at the tip of her wand. She dipped it as far as she could down the drain and tried not to gag. She couldn’t see anything to cause the smell. In fact, there was nothing at all there—no hair or soap scum. Nothing.

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