Adelaide Confused by Penny Greenhorn

Author:Penny Greenhorn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: urban fantasy, demon, supernatural, teen, ghost, psychic

Chapter 26

I was staring at a variety of turtle remains that had been encased in glass when Reed swooped in on me. Without a word of explanation he pulled me through the doors to my left. We were outside and I was being dragged down a little brick path. I protested, but Reed’s severe expression turned me mute.

He reminded me of Bernini’s David. I loved that sculpture almost as much as I loved Bernini himself. Rumor had it that he used his own facial features as inspiration. He would had to have been good-looking then, like Reed. They looked similar, sharp and almost harshly handsome.

Reed caught me staring and gave my arm a shake. “Stop,” he snapped, hauling me up the wooden ramp and into the pavilion.

I was ashamed that the charm had taken hold. Why else would I be comparing Reed to a piece of artwork? And what was worse, he was the one that pulled me out of my dazed reverie. “Hands off!” I said, trying to salvage a little dignity.

“Excuse me, Ms. Graves,” he said smoothly while his hands slipped away. “I was under the impression that you wished to speak with me.”

“How do you know that?” I demanded.

“A group of teenage boys went to the police, reporting that they’d seen a pretty young red-headed woman,” he lifted a strand of my hair and flicked it free, “held at knife point. Apparently it happened just around the corner from where Theodore Dunn was recently stabbed to death.”

“You have an informant at the Brunswick Police Department,” I said dryly. “Of course you do.” The accusation had Reed glancing about to make sure that no one was listening.

Circular blue and white tanks sat on either side of the raised walkway. They looked like tall kiddy pools, and housed sickly turtles. Humming machinery and bubbling water drowned out all sound. On the opposite end of the pavilion a father strolled slowly, his daughter seated atop his shoulders where she excitedly patted his forehead. Below them was a pair of employees. They bustled about labeling and fussing over a grid of tiny containers where infant turtles ceaselessly flapped.

Reed watched a behemoth leatherback float listlessly. Its shell was a patchwork job, covered in tape or bandages of some sort. “I don’t suppose you would believe that I meant to see you yesterday, but you weren’t at home.”

“No, I don’t suppose I would,” I replied. “It sounds a bit contrived. Contrived like trying to waylay me in a public place where I can’t yell at you properly. Were you afraid I’d make a scene at your precious picnic?”

“You do have a temper.”

“Everything you say is bullshit.” Bullshit came out just as the father and daughter walked past, heading for the door. I made amends by lowering my voice, though we were now the only visitors present. “You led me to believe that a simple phone call was the solution, that Lars would rein in Beagban. But that wasn’t true, so what did you

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