Widdershins (Whyborne & Griffin) by Hawk Jordan L

Author:Hawk, Jordan L. [Hawk, Jordan L.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2012-12-02T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

The snow of last night had piled up in deep drifts all around the house. “At least my absence at the Ladysmith this morning won’t be remarked on,” I said, peering out a window while Griffin enthusiastically scrambled eggs. “Not to suggest it would be otherwise.”

“I thought the Ladysmith was a well-oiled machine, every cog working together to make it ‘the best’ museum in America,” he remarked, in a fair imitation of the director’s voice.

“More like a cabinet of curiosities—the staff, that is, not the museum.” I returned to the kitchen and sat down at the small table. There was a larger dining room, but I preferred this more intimate setting. It reminded me of all the meals I’d had with Miss Emily, when the rest of the family had been too busy for me. “The museum’s philosophy is to leave us alone to encourage our brilliance, which actually does produce results for the most part. The downside is, I could probably expire from a gas leak in my office, and if Christine were in the field, no one would notice for weeks.”

“You and Dr. Putnam are good friends?” Griffin asked. Although his tone was studiedly casual, he seemed to be giving the eggs far more attention than they required.

“She’s my only friend, besides you, I suppose. I would say she’s like a sister to me, except I was never at all close with my older sister.”

Was it my imagination, or did Griffin’s shoulders relax just a fraction? Certainly he seemed less intent on the eggs. “She seems very…driven.”

“She knew what she wanted from life, and she took it,” I said, although the words were far too simple to encompass the battles she’d fought. But the story was Christine’s to tell, not mine. “If she makes it in to the museum today, she might notice my absence, although she’ll probably just assume the snow kept me home. She isn’t really one to worry.”

“Well, then, we shall thank the snow gods for the chance to have a lazy breakfast,” Griffin said, neatly dividing the eggs onto two plates.

We had coffee and cold cereal in addition to the eggs. Griffin took the newspaper at home, and courteously offered part of the morning edition to me. We sat together comfortably, with our food and coffee, perusing the news. I couldn’t recall a better breakfast.

“Last night,” Griffin said, after cleaning a good portion of his plate.

From his businesslike tone, he doubtless meant the investigative portion of the evening. The investigation of the house, that is, not one another.

“It was a trap.” The words had even more weight now, in the light of day. “They knew we’d be there. Or someone would.”

He nodded, his mouth pressed into a tight line. “Yes. The question is how.”

“Did you speak to anyone? You said you’d asked around. Perhaps the Brotherhood knew someone was looking for this Buckeye Jim character?”

“Perhaps,” he allowed. “Or perhaps it was planned from the beginning.”

“You mean, er, Rosa?”

His gaze rested on nothing, as if he didn’t see the warm little kitchen, but rather some far colder and lonelier place.

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