The Secret Keeper by Martha Carr & Michael Anderle

Author:Martha Carr & Michael Anderle [Carr, Martha & Anderle, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3, mobi
Tags: Contemporary, Metaphysical Fantasy, Fiction
ISBN: 9798893543209
Amazon: B0DL7ZDDXK
Goodreads: 220954185
Publisher: LMBPN Publishing
Published: 2024-12-05T06:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Carrie didn’t hear from Maggie for another week and a half. By that time, the afternoon monsoons had dried up, and the aspens had started to turn. Big patches of the hillsides were golden yellow, and when the wind ran through them, they rustled like paper coins. She spent a lot of time in the tower, refreshing the protective wards and glaring at the manikin twins. Her texts to Maggie went unanswered, until one day at two in the afternoon, she got a call.

“Tell me you have something about the manikin,” Carrie said. Did she sound as desperate as she felt?

There was a creaking noise, and a coughing jag on the other end of the line. Maggie sounded like her nose had been stuffed with wet cotton. “Sorry, bud I’m nod feeling well,” she said, some of her words rounding into a sluggish ‘d’ at the end.

Carrie felt a surge of uncharitable disappointment. The tower wards wouldn’t hold out forever. But Maggie was in no shape for archival research. “I have a favor to ask,” her friend said limply. All the bubbly energy had drained out of her. “Can you pick up Reggie ad the airpod?”

“Of course,” Carrie said. “Are you okay? How’s everything going? How was his trip?”

There was a long hesitation. “It hasn’t been a great twenty-four hours. Marcus and I had a big fight.”

Carrie’s heart sank for her friend, who had been so enthusiastic about her new squeeze. “What’s going on?”

“His new land surveying project keeps getting pushed back. Anyways, he wanted to stay with me for a few more days. He’s got his camper van, but he said he wanted to be a part of my life. He really wanted to meet Reg.”

“Ah.”

“That’s a hard limit for me, you know? I promised myself I would wait at least a year before bringing any new person around. I don’t want Reggie’s life to be a chaos of revolving uncles. Bud Marcus wasn’t happy aboud it. He went off in a huff, and the stress must’ve got to me. I feel like someone nailed my sinuses shut.”

Carrie spent a few minutes comforting her friend and assured her that she would pick Reggie up at Frognot’s tiny airstrip at six. Maggie sounded incredibly relieved.

“Thanks, Carrie. Oh! I forgot to mention. I think I found a book for you.”

“More Agatha Christie?” Carrie asked.

“No. Something I dug out of the archives. A book about the ugly little doll drawing. I’ll give it to you when you drop Reggie off.”

Relief surged through Carrie. She prayed that the book would contain a solution. She found the prospect so relaxing that when she sat down on the couch to read, she fell asleep.

Carrie woke up several hours later with a sinking feeling clutching at her guts. When she looked at the time on her phone, she was so horrified that she almost physically flung it away from her. It was six fifteen, and she was late to pick up Reggie.

Maggie was going to kill her.

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