No Quest for the Wicked Page 7

  I couldn’t keep a straight face at the idea of someone who looked like a lawn ornament on a weekend trip to Atlantic City with his friends from the senior center being called “Thor.” But he did carry an axe that would probably shatter my ankle, so I turned away and disguised my giggles in a coughing fit.

  Granny didn’t understand the concept of tact, so I worried that she’d start an interspecies incident, but all she said was, “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Thor. You can call me Granny. Glad to have you on the team.”

  “Um, Granny, you don’t have to come with us,” I said. In spite of what she’d said about not needing trinkets, I didn’t like the idea of her anywhere near the Eye. “We were going to get you a cab. Merlin said he was looking forward to seeing you and offered to let you stay at his office while we’re wrapping this up.”

  “You’ll not get rid of me that easily, Katie Beth,” she said, shaking her cane at me. “I’m not letting you out of my sight. That’s the reason I came up here. That thing I felt could happen at any moment, and I will be there for it.”

  “Don’t you have luggage?” I asked in a desperate attempt to find some reason she had to go to the office. “We’ll need to do something with it before we can go wandering around town.”

  “Didn’t bring any. It would just get in my way.” She raised her enormous tote bag. “I’ve got a change of underwear and a toothbrush in here.”

  Thor gazed at her in admiration. “Now, there’s a lady who knows how to go on a quest.” He looked up at the rest of us and asked, “So, where are we going to track down this possible lead?”

  “Macy’s,” Rod said.

  “Good, I could use a new girdle,” Granny said, heading out and plowing her way through the crowds. Although she’d never been to New York before, she somehow headed in the right direction. The rest of us had to hurry to keep up with her.

  *

  “Who are we looking for?” I asked Owen as our odd little party entered the department store.

  “A Natalie Winters.”

  “We need a plan for approaching her,” I said. “We won’t be able to just walk up to her and ask if she got an interesting brooch for her birthday today. If she is our woman, we can’t afford to make her suspicious.”

  “A personal shopper would help her choose clothes that flatter her and are suitable for her needs,” Rod said. “If we can get to her before the real shopper does, it would be easy enough to ask if there’s any accessory she wants to match.”

  “Looks like we’ve got a volunteer,” I said.

  “What? Me?” He shook his head. “No, no, no.”

  “You want me helping a woman choose clothes?” I asked, gesturing at my current outfit, which could probably best be described as “business bland.”

  He studied me, and I could tell he was wrestling with a diplomatic way to respond. “You don’t look bad,” he said at last.

  “It took Gemma’s help to get me this far.”

  “And I don’t shop,” Owen added.

  A saleswoman approached us, gave Owen a dazzling smile, and asked, “Can I help you find something?”

  Owen immediately turned bright red and started stammering. I’d almost forgotten about his shyness, it had been so long since I’d seen him outside the office basement. He could handle himself in an official capacity or with people he knew and trusted, but around strangers, he blushed and clammed up. It was really rather adorable.

  Rod intervened, asking the saleswoman, “We were wondering about your personal shopper service.”

  “That would be on the third floor,” she told him.

  When she was gone, I said, “Owen also doesn’t talk to strangers. Which leaves you. You’re great with women.” I didn’t think that Granny or Thor would even be in the running for posing as a personal shopper.

  “Okay, okay. If you think I can pull this off.”

  I patted him on the shoulder as we headed to the escalators. “Just pour on your usual charm, and you should do fine.”

  “I haven’t used my ‘usual charm’ in ages. I’ve been trying to be good, but it’s hard to reform when you people keep pulling me back in.”

  “It’s all in the line of duty. You’re playing Don Juan for a cause now, not for selfish reasons.”

  Up on the third floor, a frighteningly thin blond (probably fake, but with no roots showing) woman in a severe suit stood waiting, tapping the pointy toe of her high-heeled shoe impatiently, even though it was still several minutes before her appointment. “That’s got to be her,” Rod whispered.

  “Do you feel anything that might be the Eye?” I asked him, also in a whisper.

  He shook his head. “If she’s got it, it’s in the box. Do you think she’d be standing there, waiting, if the Eye were working?”

  “Good point. Now, go get ’em, tiger. We’re all counting on you. But no pressure!”

  While the rest of us lurked behind mannequins, Rod dialed up the charm to maximum levels and approached the woman. “Ms. Winters?” he asked.

  “Yes.” She snapped out the word.

  “I’m André, and I’ll be helping you today.”

  “My appointment was with Cecile.”

  “I’m afraid Cecile had a family emergency, so she asked me to fill in until she could get here. She sent her most sincere apologies. Now, is there something in particular you’re looking for today? Any big events you need to dress for or pieces you want to build an outfit around?”

  She looked at him like he’d grown a second head. “Cecile usually pulls pieces and has them ready when I arrive. I told her what I wanted when I made the appointment.”

  “Oh, ah, um,” Rod stammered. He sounded a lot like Owen. This was not a good time for him to lose his mojo and turn bashful. Then I felt an increase in magical use as he gave up trying to do this the hard way and hit her full-on with the whammy. “I wanted to add my personal touch,” he said, his voice soft and seductive as he reached out to touch her hand.

  All her frosty edginess melted away, and she looked more like what I was accustomed to seeing in women around Rod. In fact, it reminded me of when I first saw him, when I wondered if he was a rock star I didn’t recognize because of the way all the women on the subway car looked at him. “Oh, personal is good,” she sighed.

  Still weaving his spell, Rod said, “I definitely think we should add more blue. I’d bet you look lovely in blue—like a sapphire blue. Please tell me you wear sapphires.”

  “I haven’t before. But let’s buy some!”

  I put my hand over my mouth to suppress my giggles. I wished we were filming this because it was one of the funniest things I’d seen in ages. Then I noticed that Owen was staring at me, not Rod. “What’s wrong?” he asked, frowning with concern.

  “Wrong? What makes you think something’s wrong? I mean, other than the killer brooch on the loose. This”—I gestured toward Rod— “is the best thing that’s happened all day.”

  “Not now, at this moment, but in general. Something’s up with you lately.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re all lit up today, practically glowing, and you haven’t looked like that in a long time. It’s good to see, but it makes me wonder what’s wrong the rest of the time. I know I’ve been kind of obsessed lately. Has that been bothering you?”

  Owen acted like an absentminded professor, but he wasn’t nearly as oblivious as he seemed to be. I wasn’t sure what to say, though. Given everything he was dealing with, I felt like a whiner to complain about something so petty as being bored. “It’s not your fault, really. Can we talk about it later, though, when we’re not on a quest to retrieve the magical brooch that could plunge the world into war?”

  “I’ll hold you to that.” His phone rang, and when he checked the caller ID, he handed it to me. “It’s for you.”

  It was Gemma. “Sorry, I’m not having much luck,” she said. “The profile you gave fits half our customers, and nobody remembers anyone’s fiancé’s name.”r />
  “Thanks for trying. We may have a good lead here.” Since it had taken every ounce of Rod’s magical charm to keep Natalie Winters from snarling at him, I thought she just might be our girl.

  “Where did you find her?”

  “Macy’s. A woman engaged to a Jonathan Martin had a personal shopper appointment.”

  She laughed. “Oh, honey, that can’t be the right one. The woman you’re looking for wouldn’t be shopping at Macy’s.”

  “Really? It’s my idea of a splurge. And she’s got a personal shopper.”

  “You could get a personal shopper if you made an appointment. The woman you’re looking for wouldn’t shop off-the-rack. She might not even set foot in a department store. She’s more likely to go straight to the designers for couture.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. We make our money dressing women like that.”

  “But she’s super-thin and really blond. She looks like all the socialites in the newspaper.”

  “She probably aspires to be the kind of woman you’re looking for, but she isn’t there yet.”

  “Okay, thanks, Gemma.” I handed the phone back to Owen. “We need to abort the operation. Gemma says there’s no way this is our target.”

  I tried to get Rod’s attention, but he was still working the whammy on Natalie. A woman in a chic black suit came up behind him and said, “Natalie, I’m so sorry I’m late.” She frowned at Rod. “And who’s this?”

  That got Rod’s attention. It looked like Cecile, the real personal shopper, had shown up, and he was about to be revealed as a fraud. He started to edge away, but Natalie grabbed his arm while placing herself between him and Cecile. “I don’t need you anymore. I’ve got André, and he will make me beautiful. I’m going to buy sapphires to match my eyes.”

  Cecile blinked at that, then glared at Rod. “You don’t work here,” she said. “What do you think you’re doing, impersonating store staff? I’m calling security.”

  Rod was at an uncharacteristic loss for words. I couldn’t blame him, as there wasn’t a good explanation for what he’d done. It looked like someone needed to save the day. I left my hiding place and approached the group. “Excuse me, I’m looking for André, my personal shopper,” I said.

  “There’s no personal shopper by that name working here,” Cecile snapped.

  “I meant my personal personal shopper,” I said haughtily. “He’s my new private wardrobe consultant, and I was supposed to meet him here.”

  Fortunately, Rod was quick enough to play along. “You’re Natalie?” he asked.

  “I’m Natalie!” the real Natalie protested.

  “I’m afraid there’s been a big mix-up,” Rod said to Cecile. “I got the wrong Natalie. I’m so sorry.” He took my arm and ushered me away, saying, “Now, darling, it looks like we have a lot of work to do with you. I don’t even know where to begin.”

  “Gee, thanks,” I muttered.

  “Just playing my part. That was quick thinking.” We rounded the corner, then joined Owen behind a concealing clothing rack. “She can’t be our woman,” Rod reported. “I don’t think she’s ever owned a sapphire in her life. Apparently, no one had ever told her she’d look good in blue. That must have been a new color of contact lens for her. If that was her real eye color, they’d have been putting her in blue from birth.”

  “And also, Gemma says that real billionaires’ fiancées don’t shop in department stores,” I added.

  He groaned and said, “I should have known that. I guess we forget how different they are from the rest of us.”

  “We’d better get out of here in case Cecile is still suspicious enough to call security,” Owen said, tugging at both of us.

  We’d barely stepped back into the aisle when a plaintive cry of “André? Where are you? I need you!” echoed across the floor. We leapt back into cover and headed for another aisle, crouching to keep our heads below the tops of the clothing racks.

  “I guess I overestimated how much power to use on her,” Rod said as Natalie’s calls continued. “I must be out of practice.”

  We crept out from behind a rack when the coast seemed clear, only to run into something thin and blond. “André, you shouldn’t have listened to Cecile!” Natalie cried. “She’s just jealous because she didn’t think to tell me to wear blue. I need you.”

  He took her hand and stared directly into her eyes, and I started to scold him before he said softly, “Natalie, it’s okay. You don’t need me. Now, go let Cecile pick out some clothes for you.”

  “Yes, yes, I should do that,” she said, nodding. Her eyes looked vague and unfocused. She swayed ever so slightly, and Rod steadied her, only releasing her when she seemed stable. She blinked out of it, stared quizzically at Rod, then nodded more decisively. “Yes, I have a personal shopper appointment.”

  “You do,” Rod agreed, releasing her hand. “Have a nice day.” As she walked away, he added under his breath, “And a nice life. Sorry.” He turned to us and said, “Now, Owen is right. We ought to get out of here in case that real personal shopper didn’t buy your story and has called security—or the police.”

  We’d nearly made it to the escalators when I realized that we were missing someone. “Hey, where are Granny and Thor?” I asked.

  The guys glanced around. “I haven’t seen them in a while,” Owen said.

  “Your grandmother mentioned needing a girdle,” Rod said. “Do you think she was serious?”

  “There’s no telling. I think lingerie is on one of the higher floors. We could go check. At least it would get us off this floor.”

  We got on an up escalator. On the next level, as we stepped off and headed for the next escalator heading up, a woman dressed in black like the store employees gave us a startled look and then moved toward us. “Uh oh, looks like someone alerted security,” I said. We’d be sitting ducks on an escalator, so we did an abrupt reversal and plunged into a jungle of clothing racks. The woman stayed on our tail, and when I looked back over my shoulder, I noticed that she wasn’t wearing a store employee name tag. Either she was an undercover security officer or she was following us for some reason other than Rod’s attempt to impersonate a personal shopper.

  “The elevators,” Owen suggested. None of us knew the store layout well enough to find them, so we wove our way around the floor, simultaneously looking out for our pursuer and for the elevators.

  “There they are!” called Rod, just as a hand reached out from behind a rack and grabbed me.

  Chapter Six

  I didn’t get a chance to scream before a hand went over my mouth and I was pulled deeper into the clothing racks. I heard Owen and Rod calling for me nearby and struggled against my captor while screaming my lungs out from behind the muffling hand.

  I then felt warm breath against my neck as someone whispered, “Hush, I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to talk to you.” I didn’t recognize the voice, even as I mentally ran through the voices of everyone I’d ever met. “I’ll let you go if you won’t scream. Will you scream?”

  I figured I wouldn’t go to hell for breaking my promise if he turned out to be dangerous, so I shook my head. He eased his grip on me, and I turned around. “Earl?” I blurted. “What are you doing here? Did the Elf Lord send you?”

  The young elf glanced frantically around. “Shhhh! Don’t talk about him! He doesn’t know I’m here. I don’t work for him. Well, okay, I do, but he’s not the one I’m really working for.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “Because I want to help you find the Knot before the Elf Lord does.”

  “And grabbing me and scaring me half to death was the best way you could think of to announce that you want to be friends?” I asked, putting one hand on my hip and glaring up at him. “You’re lucky Owen doesn’t have any powers right now. He tends to go psycho when he thinks I’m in danger.” I raised my voice and called out, “Owen! Rod! I’m okay. I’m over here.”

  Earl made a noise that sou
nded something like “Yrrggheeegg” while his eyes bugged out and his ears wiggled in panic. “Why’d you do that?” he moaned.

  “If you’ve got something to say, you can say it to all of us at once.” Then I remembered what we’d been running from and added, “And this might not be the best place to have this discussion. Someone’s following us.”

  “I know. That was me.”

  “No, there was someone else, a woman.”

  Owen and Rod reached us, and Owen said, “Earl? Does this mean the Elf Lord wants to cooperate?”

  “Actually, Earl’s freelancing,” I said. “But why don’t we get away from here before we chat? My grandmother has been left unsupervised for far too long.”

  “We’ll need a diversion because that woman in black is still out there,” Rod said.

  “I’m good at diversions,” Earl said. He held out his hand, palm up, and a small orb of light formed on it. He blew on the orb, sending it flying, then said to us, “Go, and don’t look at it.” We ran for the elevators as the orb zoomed around just below the ceiling. The woman who’d been following us spotted us, but before she could make a move, there was a bright flash of light that would have been blinding if we’d been looking at it. We made it safely to the elevator, and Rod hit a couple of extra buttons so it wouldn’t be obvious from outside where we were heading.

  As I expected, we found Granny and Thor in the lingerie section. Thor was waiting uncomfortably while Granny harangued a saleswoman. “Did you find what you sought?” Thor asked us. Then he growled at the back of his throat when he saw Earl. “An elf? Are you double-crossing me?”

  “You’re working with him?” Earl asked.

  “We don’t yet know what’s really going on with either of you,” Owen said.

  “I take it you didn’t find what you wanted, then,” Thor said.

  “No, false alarm,” Rod said.

  Thor glared up at Earl. “So, elf, what’s your game? Are you a lackey of the Elf Lord?”

  “I am a spy in the court of the Elf Lord. My people want to make sure he doesn’t obtain the Knot or the Eye. I believe the best way to ensure that is to help these wizards who plan to destroy the brooch.”