Floodlight Page 8

  Heloisa stopped. “Merl, Briggard, what’s the problem?” Two rather ugly dwarves were playing tug-of-war over a sack of something but stopped when they saw Heloisa.

  “There’s so little meat to eat, and this pig dwarf,” the rough-looking dwarf said and gave another swat to Briggard, “keeps stealing mine.”

  “Briggard, is that true?”

  I blinked, fascinated by the exchange. Briggard was a little bigger than most in the yard.

  “I was hungry.”

  “We all are. Save your energy for the enemy. Keep your hands off Merl’s food. We all get the same allotment.”

  She walked forward, a leader, assured that her word would be followed.

  “Where are we going?”

  “I think it’s time you met Mitzi’s father.”

  Juniper and I exchanged glances. Each of us could see the other’s open mouth.

  Chapter Six

  DETECTIVE POTTS WAS disgruntled. He lit another cigarette and sat across from Fowler Tax Services. The employee had told him that the owner, Mitzi’s wife, had left the country. His own digging confirmed she had left for Germany with Juniper Gooden, which was highly suspicious. He wanted to investigate further, but there wasn’t enough for a warrant to search either woman’s place. The employee, Babs, had acted like everything was fine, but she was nervous. This reinforced what he knew in his cop gut: that Mitzi Fowler was missing and that Panda Fowler—what kind of name was that?—had something to do with it. Maybe that other woman, Juniper, too. Not just any woman, Juniper Gooden was the lesbian who ran the cray cray art museum that had just sucked up all the police resources for that visiting “artiste.” He grunted. Typical. These types of relationships were inherently unstable. Women needed a man. Then he thought about his three ex-wives. Maybe they were all gay.

  After a few hours of nothing, he decided to stake out the home of Juniper and Valerie Gooden on Lemon Street nearby.

  When he knocked on Juniper Gooden’s door, her “partner,” Valerie, acted nervous.

  “Ms. Gooden, my name is Detective Potts from MPD.”

  “It’s Mrs. Can I help you?” she said frostily, not opening the door the whole way.

  “I’m investigating a missing person, a friend of yours, Mitzi Fowler?”

  “Mitzi’s missing? I don’t think so.”

  Which made his cop senses tingle.

  “Who said she was missing?”

  Another weird question. In his experience, most innocent people would just tell everything they knew and try to help.

  “I’m asking the questions if you don’t mind.” He hitched up his belt. “Do you know where she is, this Mitzi friend of yours?” He sniffed, damn cold trying to catch him.

  “No, she’s on vacation in Germany is what I know.”

  “Really? Who with?”

  “My wife and her wife are there, too.”

  “Where?”

  “I really don’t feel comfortable standing here and answering any more questions. Mitzi is fine.” She started closing the door on him, but he stuck his foot in it and handed her a card through the crack.

  “I don’t know what’s going on, but if you want to tell me, here’s my card. We’re not gonna let this go until we find your friend.”

  “Thank you, Detective, your worries are misplaced.” The door snicked shut.

  Potts sat in his car, opened his notebook, and went over what he knew.

  First, Panda Fowler had left the country, shortly before the most important day of the year in the tax biz, April fifteenth. Weird, but not illegal.

  Second, Panda Fowler was seen walking around her neighborhood the day before, asking if anyone had seen Mitzi.

  Third, on Sunday, Panda Fowler made a 9-1-1 call about Mitzi, then canceled it.

  Fourth, that nut job curator, Juniper Gooden, gets on a plane for Germany with Panda Fowler.

  Lesbians. Maybe Panda and Juniper were lovers. Maybe Mitzi was in the way. But that didn’t fit.

  If this Valerie had been left by Juniper Gooden for another woman, why wouldn’t she just say so? Was she in on it? Oh, wouldn’t that be a big, juicy mess. He started the car and lit another cigarette.

  It wasn’t long before the front door opened. Valerie emerged carrying a book and some luggage. Holy shit! There’s only one reason for her to not tell him she was fleeing the country. She was in on it. Even though he didn’t know the why, no more suspects were leaving the ol’ U.S. of A. on his watch. Potts reached for the radio.

  MEANWHILE, BACK AT the castle, Mitzi wanted to bolt. Strong hands kept her in her chair, and the chanting finally stopped. “It’s time for the first cleansing,” the man with white hands said.

  Females entered, dressed in white robes. Their faces were covered, and they bowed to the man as each passed. Softer hands took Mitzi. One of them spoke through her veil. “Wolfrum, we will prepare her for the ritual.”

  Wolfrum, for that apparently was his name, nodded. The women took Mitzi and departed the great room. They walked her back down the same corridor but this time took one of the halls leading in a direction other than the prison. She still couldn’t speak. The women were silent as they escorted her to a place of running water. Tears ran down her face. They’re going to drown me, she thought.

  One of the younger women turned to her, put a finger to her lips, and shook her head no, as if Mitzi had spoken. What a strange, strange place.

  Hercynian Garden Keep

  JUNIPER AND I, along with our two magical hosts, entered the largest structure on the grounds and walked along a deep plush carpet to reach what could only be described as the throne room. A larger than usual and strangely designed chair stood on a slightly raised platform in the center. A small, velvet seat was next to it. Footstool? Walls were covered with what looked like the college pennants I’d seen back in Iowa, where I attended college.

  “Each one has the name of a province in the Hercynian Garden,” Elsa said. “There are thirteen. This one is the center of the magical world.”

  Truthfully, after seeing the state of the masses outside, the “magical world” didn’t inspire confidence, although I didn’t think I had expectations.

  Very shortly, an elf bellowed, “Be upstanding!”

  The soldiers who dotted the room stood up straighter, and we were led to a place in front of the dais. A griffin—Mitzi’s father?—came in on all fours, one of his wings dragging on the ground.

  Obviously, I’d never seen a real griffin before. Until now I believed them to be mythological creatures. My Episcopal church had a Flying Ox as a symbol on one of the banners back in Merryville; that was what I would have envisioned, if anything. That stylized creature didn’t do this real one justice. Even though he looked somewhat broken, he carried power and dignity with him. He had a lion’s powerful body and an eagle’s head and wings. It was his eyes, so full of pain, however, that arrested me. He leaped gracefully to his throne, and I saw why it had such an odd shape. The tail must be accommodated. Makes sense. Funny how we focus on the little things when on overload.

  Heloisa turned to us and said, “This is Ehrenhardt, leader of the free magical world. He knows who you are already.”

  “Good day, sir,” I said, resorting to fairy tale formality.

  Juniper, for once silent, gave a slight curtsy.

  The griffin looked us over and rested his eyes on me.

  “So you and my Mitzi are married,” he said with a sad smile. “I never thought we would meet.”

  “That makes you my father-in-law,” I said, as if we were at a cocktail party.

  He responded in kind. “Call me Ehren. Elsa tells me you make my daughter very happy.”

  “How long has she been watching us?” I asked, glancing at the little spy. She looked down.

  “Don’t be angry with her. She was acting on my orders.” His voice was very definitely male, and carried a “don’t mess with me” timbre. This was a griffin who was used to being in charge and obeyed.

  “H
ow come Mitzi didn’t know you’re her father?”

  At that, four elves came forward with wooden chairs.

  “Sit down, this may take awhile,” he rumbled.

  We sat. It was one of those moments where you wouldn’t be anywhere else in the world for all the tea in China. Kind of like when Juniper saw that unicorn.

  Ehren looked off to the distance. “Griffins mate for life. When I met Frederick—”

  In my head I thought-shouted, “Frederick?”

  He looked straight at me with his eagle eyes, and I shrank. “Yes, Frederick.

  “Frederick was brave and strong and beautiful. We lived together in this very place and ruled the magical kingdom. Frederick was a fairy, and our pairing was strong, both being magical. Griffins live for over 100 years. Fairies”—he sighed heavily—“do not. We wanted a child to be part of both of us, but neither could carry a child. We found, Susan, Mitzi’s mother.”

  “She was a surrogate?”

  “Yes. She carried our child and lived here in the castle for a time with our new baby.”

  His face darkened. “Then, her desire to keep a child she had carried was bolstered by the new Wolf-Raven religion sweeping the land. Wolfrum and his monks want to rule and to relegate all creatures to roles they set out for them. Without getting into heavy theology, there’s no place in their new leadership for an old griffin and a fairy, let alone two males, to live together.”

  I noted then the smaller seat that I had mistaken for a footstool was probably fairy sized. Frederick’s seat sat empty beside Ehren.

  My heart was sad for them. He was silent for so long, I had to prompt him. “So then what happened?”

  “Aided by the monks, Susan left the magical world with Mitzi. I named her. It means beloved.” A tear rolled down his feathery fatherly cheek. “We watched her grow from afar. Many elves were sent over the years to make sure she got what she needed.”

  “But you just let her go? Why?”

  “The peace of the magical world was no longer, as the Wolf-Ravens kept us under constant attack. It was safer for her there, and I couldn’t leave here. For another, there was nothing physically that indicated our daughter was anything other than human. At the base of it, the best interests of Mitzi were uppermost in my mind. I love her.”

  “Isn’t her last name Schadt?” Juniper asked.

  Ehren answered, “Her mother’s husband’s name. He was Mitzi’s stepfather.”

  Juniper opened her mouth to ask another. There were thousands of questions I wanted answers to.

  “That’s enough for now. We’re at war, and there’s another matter that must be attended to.” He made as if ready to go.

  “Sir, I must know, what’s being done to rescue Mitzi?”

  “Go to your rooms and rest. We will speak at dinner.” His voice had a definite edge. Obviously, talking about such painful things wasn’t easy for him.

  As Elsa, Juniper, and I arose, the front door opened and who should come running in but our old friend Ekk.

  “Your Majesty!” He panted, breathless. He looked so small on the carpet before the throne. “The one they call Valerie has been arrested.”

  An angry cloud seemed to fill the room. Ehren bellowed to Ekk, “Report!”

  “I finished my assignment with Panda Fowler’s tax business. It was successful,” he said, nodding in my direction. In spite of the grave situation, I was still relieved to hear it. He continued. “I headed over to the Goodens to make sure the woman, Valerie, left in time to be here for the April twelfth ritual. She had her ticket, was packed, and was headed out to the car when a Detective Potts blocked her driveway with an unmarked car.”

  Juniper’s fists tightened.

  Ekk said, “Six black-and-white cars came, and they arrested her in handcuffs. She’s being held in the Merryville jail.”

  Juniper erupted. “Those bastards! On what charge?”

  “Silence! I must think.” Ehren nodded to one of the elves with pen in hand. “Get Alexandra Stephanovsky out to the courthouse. We only have two days to get Valerie here.” The elf ran to carry out his command.

  “Guards, take these two to their rooms,” Ehren said.

  Several other commands were given in a language we couldn’t understand. Seven of what must be Ehren’s advisors came quickly into the room. It was a motley crew: a fairy, two elves, a dwarf, and a couple of creatures I couldn’t identify.

  “I must ask you to leave now,” Ehren said to us.

  “Not a chance!” Juniper said. “Valerie’s my wife.” She grabbed my arm. “We’re staying.”

  I wish I had a camera. Juniper faced up to Ehren, who was twice her size and in possession of talons that would make Brutus jealous. The room froze. Apparently, Ehren didn’t get challenged in this way very often. It obviously took great restraint for him to dial his anger back a notch. “Of course, but do not interfere or you’ll be sent to your rooms.” I silently thought Mitzi may have been better off being raised in California.

  IT SOON BECAME clear, however, that Juniper and I needed to go so Ehren could act. We were escorted to our rooms in the safe house by dwarves. We didn’t make a fuss because the dwarves were rather surly. So many questions swirled in my mind. I sat on Juniper’s bed while she paced. “This makes no sense. Valerie has done nothing, I mean nothing, to get arrested for.”

  I tried to calm the waters. “Let’s look at this from the police viewpoint. Somebody reports Mitzi is missing.”

  “Who?”

  “Well, me. I called 9-1-1 and they must have followed up. That would make sense, since a detective showed up at your doorstep asking questions about where she was. Everyone knows we’re friends.”

  “Right. Oh my God. It must look bad that we both left the country. I didn’t even think about that.” Juniper’s wheels were turning.

  “I know. We were on a mission to save Mitzi and didn’t think about how it might look to someone else.” My heart sank, Where was Mitzi? “We may be in the same country, but we’re no closer to saving Mitzi. Meanwhile this big deadline no one has really explained is getting closer.”

  We sat silent.

  “Her dad is gay?” Juniper said, apropos of nothing.

  “I know. Funny isn’t it? I wonder if that’s all she inherited from Ehrenhardt.” We shared a look.

  Juniper plopped down next to me. “What are we going to do about all this? What can we do?”

  “And who is Alexandra Stephanovsky?” I added to the list of unanswered questions.

  BACK IN MERRYVILLE, Potts was jubilant. He’d arrested Valerie Gooden for obstruction of the investigation into the disappearance of Mitzi Fowler. He stared at her through the two-way mirror, thinking how foreign she looked, what with her dark skin and blue eyes. Her cheekbones were pronounced, Iranian maybe. She sure didn’t look German, so that bit confused him.

  Someone leaked it to the press, and the story was about to get very large, maybe national, especially on the heels of that crazy woman at the museum who had made a fool of the mayor. This because Valerie was Juniper Gooden’s wife. Too good. He was basking in attention, what with Councilman Smithers calling him directly for information.

  Unfortunately, Valerie Gooden wasn’t saying anything more than she had already said at the door. At least she hadn’t asked for an attorney. She would crack soon. She’d already missed her flight out of the country, and the squad room was abuzz with the return call he had just received from Interpol. He needed a celebratory cigarette.

  Hercynian Garden

  MITZI WAS GLAD to be away from the monks. Then she was led into a room filled with perfumed water. She felt she must be dreaming as her mother, Susan, was seated on a tile bench next to the woman she believed was Madame Dresser.

  She tried to say, “Mom!” but her lips were still sealed.

  Odilia Dresser waved her hand, like Wolfrum had done, and she could speak. “Get away from her. She’s the one who kidnapped me.”

  The women sat there calmly, waiting
for her to stop shouting.

  Mitzi couldn’t believe her mother just sat there, eyes downcast.

  “That’s Wolfrum’s sister,” her mother said.

  “What? I don’t care. What are you doing here? We need to get out of this place.”

  Neither Odilia nor Susan moved; they just looked at each other and back at Mitzi. “I told you she would be like this,” Susan said to Madame Dresser. Then she turned back to Mitzi. “Come and sit with us. It’s high time we have a conversation I should have had with you years ago.”

  Stunned at the betrayal, Mitzi walked forward and sat with the two older women. Madame Dresser spoke first. “Everything you think you know about your past is false. This woman is your mother, but the man you know as your father was only her husband, not your biological father. Your father is not human.”

  Not human? The words jangled in her brain. Mitzi fought to regain control of her thoughts. “And who are you?” she asked.

  “Odilia, the one who is here to save your life.” She gave a toothy smile that looked more predatory than reassuring.

  Mitzi sat.

  “You were raised by your mother far away from this place, with the hopes that any taint from your birth would be forgotten,” Odilia said in her thick German accent. “Raised by Susan and her God-fearing husband, Mr. Schadt, away from the magic you have seen. We hoped you would grow into a normal young woman. Unfortunately, that was not the case.” Her voice was cold.

  “Excuse me?” the very normal Mitzi said.

  “You live with another woman as if she were a husband. This is a death sentence in our world.”

  “Who the hell are you to judge me?” Mitzi said, standing up.

  “Like I said, I’m the one who will save your life...or take it.” Her blue eyes were icy.

  Susan began to cry and turned to the old woman. “I tried, Odilia. She was raised with a mother and a father. We took her to church. I made sure she never knew anything about this place or who her father was.”