Cody wheeled Haden out the door.
"See you tomorrow, Kendra," Cody said.
"Good night, guys. Sorry you're in here."
Haden twisted in his chair and pointed at her. "Same to you but more of it."
Chapter 5 Mourning
The crusty snow gleamed beneath the winter sun, refracting the light in dazzling patterns, as if the graveyard were flooded with diamonds. Eventually the rising breeze pushed the vanguard of a fleet of threatening clouds across the sun, reducing the glare, leaving the cemetery cold and bleak. Here and there, flowers and tiny flags added splashes of color to the snow-choked graves.
Dressed in a dark blue suit, hair neatly combed, Seth sat with his back against an eight-foot obelisk, resting his wrists on his knees. The suit coat offered only flimsy protection against the chill, but he hardly noticed. His sister had recently been laid to rest in the family plot near his Grandma and Grandpa Larsen. He had quietly told his parents that he needed a few minutes by himself.
No tears pooled in Seth's eyes. He figured he had used up his lifetime allotment over the past few days. Now he felt numb and dry, as if all emotion had been wrung out of him.
Footsteps crunched through the icy snow, approaching from the side and behind. A moment later Grandpa Sorenson stood over him, hands in his pockets. "How you holding up, Seth?"
Seth kept his eyes on Grandpa's shoes. "I'm okay. How about you?" They had not found a chance to really talk yet. Grandpa and Grandma Sorenson had barely arrived in time for the services.
"You can imagine," Grandpa sighed. "The whole situation is an unbearable nightmare. We've been scrambling to piece together what happened."
Seth's head snapped up. "Find any leads?" This was what he needed. Everyone kept wallowing in the loss. He needed answers.
"Some. When you feel ready, we can--"
"I'm ready right now," Seth assured him. "I need to know how and why."
Grandpa nodded. "Some of our friends broke into the morgue and conducted an informal autopsy on Kendra. Seems to really be her. Not a changeling, at least. We still can't fathom what species of mind control may have been at work here."
"She wasn't herself," Seth stated. "It wasn't Kendra calling the shots."
"I'm sure of that," Grandpa agreed. "So is Warren. The man who ran the day care where she volunteered, Rex
Tanner, turned up dead in his condo over the weekend. What do you know about him?"
"Nothing. But that is really suspicious."
"A safe guess is that whatever happened to Kendra originated at the day care. But the trail is cold." Grandpa looked around, then motioned with one arm. "Your folks are gone. I told them I would bring you home. They were in no condition to argue. I want you to meet someone."
Seth heard more footsteps approaching, these much stealthier than Grandpa's. They rustled the snow rather than crunched. A bald black man wearing a long leather coat and dark, glossy boots came around the obelisk. Snowy gravestones reflected in his sunglasses.
"Seth, this is Trask," Grandpa said. "He's a detective and a Knight of the Dawn. He'll help us get to the bottom of this."
"You look the part," Seth said. "Do you ride a motorcycle?"
Trask stared down at him. "I'm sorry for your loss." There was a no-nonsense tone to his voice.
"Have you found out anything yet?"
Trask glanced at Grandpa, who gave a nod. "I spent the last couple of days in Monmouth, Illinois."
"Where the letter was addressed," Seth recalled.
"Kept an eye on the post office box. Spent some time at the local college, got to know the town and the outlying areas. Nice place. So far, we have nothing. I left a man watching the post office."
"I'm glad you guys followed up on the letter," Seth said.
"We're nowhere near done," Trask promised. "I want to hear firsthand about any oddities you noted regarding your sister's behavior."
Seth recounted how Kendra had acted at breakfast, how she had come home early from the day care, how she had overreacted when she found him in her room, and the final tragic confrontation with Warren.
"All of this happened on the same day," Trask confirmed.
"Yep. Except the scary part with Warren was technically early the next day."
"No strange behavior the day before."
"Well, she kept to herself more than usual the evening before. Stayed shut up in her room."
"After she got home from the day care," Trask said.
"Right," Seth said. "She seemed very much herself the day before."
Trask turned his head toward Grandpa. "Everything points to the day care. Elise checked in the windows multiple times while Kendra was there. Nothing appeared amiss. I interviewed Ronda Redmond, a woman who works overlapping hours with Kendra. I presented myself as a private investigator. She claimed that the only time Kendra was out of her sight on the day in question was when Rex brought Kendra into his office for a minute or two to respond to a call from a parent. We've kept Ronda under heavy surveillance and have dug deep into her past. Whatever transpired, she seems to be an oblivious bystander."
"That brings you up-to-date," Grandpa said to Seth.
"I want to help find out more," Seth said. "Maybe you can use me as bait."
Grandpa shook his head. "We can't risk anything like that until we better understand what we're dealing with."
"Warren and Elise are no rookies," Trask said. "Neither am I. This was done with an unthinkable level of finesse. We'll get to the bottom of it, but time will be required. Unless fresh details come to mind, Seth, you could best serve our needs by returning to Fablehaven with your grandfather."
"To Fablehaven?" Seth asked.
"Tanu is already prepping your parents," Grandpa said. "Given their agitated condition over the loss of Kendra, and his skill with potions, they will soon arrive at the conclusion that you should spend Christmas with your grandmother and me."
"No," Seth protested softly. "I want to be here, helping the investigation."
"We can't protect you as well here," Trask said. "There are many causes for concern. We can't be certain the letter was the only communique sent to our enemies by whoever was posing as your sister. Who can say what they may have already learned? We need to assume a defensive posture until we have a more complete grasp of the situation."
"On your feet," Grandpa said, extending a gloved hand.