Chapter Thirty-Four
The incident at the coal mine played out for the next week. Folks worked around the clock for days, digging, moving, and hauling earth and stone out of the way before they finally recovered Tobias Dawson's body, along with those of his two giant workers. The coroner said both the giants and Dawson died of blunt force trauma.
Yeah, the cave-in had taken out the giants, but Dawson had died from those Ice daggers I'd launched into his torso. Too bad the evidence had melted away - just like always. Something I was grateful for.
After the rescue workers recovered the bodies, there wasn't much else to do. So they closed down the mine and went home. A couple of days later, Finn showed me a business article in the Ashland Trumpet that said Owen Grayson had bought Tobias Dawson's company for a song - lock, stock, and barrel. No plans had been announced about what would happen to the collapsed mine, and Grayson was quoted as saying he wasn't in a rush to make a decision. Either way, I'd destroyed the diamonds in the cavern, so no one would be sniffing around there anytime soon. Which meant Warren T. Fox, his granddaughter, Violet, and their store, land, and house were safe for now and the foreseeable future.
I was glad I'd been able to help the Foxes, glad I'd been able to do something for someone who had once meant so much to Fletcher Lane. I thought the old man would have approved of me helping Warren, even if the two of them had parted on bad terms all those years ago.
As for me, I lapsed gracefully back into retirement. Auditing classes at Ashland Community College. Reading.
Cooking. Running the Pork Pit.
That last one was easier now, since Jake McAllister was out of the picture. The incident at the mine shaft had dominated the news, of course, but there was a small mention about Jake and the fact he'd been found dead at his father's home. The coroner blamed it on natural causes caused by an undetected heart defect - or some such nonsense. There was no mention of Jake being at the party at Mab Monroe's house, and no mention of him being found stabbed to death in one of the bathrooms.
But with Jake dead, his father, Jonah McAllister, had no real reason to squeeze me anymore. At least, not about the robbery and pressing charges again his son. Oh, I imagined Jonah was still angry at me over what had happened the day he had come to the restaurant and that he'd get back around to harassing me sooner or later, if only because he enjoyed that sort of thing. But for now, the Pork Pit was back up to its regular flow of customers. Still, I kept an eye out for trouble. If Jonah McAllister ever connected me with the blond hooker who'd been at Mab's party, he'd get his giants, come to the Pork Pit, and raze the restaurant to the ground - with me inside it.
Which is why I had Finn make some discreet inquiries into the matter. Jonah McAllister was said to be seething with rage over the murder of his son - and the fact the incident had taken place at Mab Monroe's mansion. McAllister had vowed to find his son's killer and take care of her himself - with his bare hands. Mab Monroe was also said to be livid at the fact someone had dared to murder her lawyer's son in her own home.
Mab was also said to be quietly searching for a blond hooker who'd attended her party and had been seen leaving with Tobias Dawson. According to Finn, the Fire elemental had sent Elliot Slater and a couple of his giant goons to question Roslyn Phillips about the mysterious hooker. But Slater had eventually been satisfied that the invitation and rune necklace had been stolen from Northern Aggression without Roslyn's knowledge. Still, I had Finn wire Roslyn a significant amount of money to help make up for what I was sure had been a forceful interview.
And I still wondered about that night at the party and why Mab hadn't just killed me herself when I'd been knocked out cold on the ground in front of her. It would have been easy enough for her to do. Why make Dawson do it? Why make him take me somewhere else? Had Mab known he would take me to the mine? Maybe she'd thought I'd kill Dawson for her, and she could step in and have all the diamonds for herself. It wouldn't have been a bad plan, if I hadn't collapsed the whole mountain in the process.
I didn't know the Fire elemental's reasoning, and I'd never believed much in luck. But I knew that I'd dodged my own death that night. But now she was actively searching for me, and I had no illusions about what would happen if she ever discovered my real identity.
The fact was I'd have to be more careful for the foreseeable future - at least until someone else caught Mab Monroe's interest.
Two weeks after the incident at the mine, I perched on my stool at the Pork Pit reading The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain. Fletcher's copy of Where the Red Fern Grows adorned the wall beside the cash register, of course, but it had been joined by something new - the picture of him and Warren T. Fox. I think Fletcher would have liked having it in the restaurant.
It was a Monday night again and quiet except for my two customers - Eva Grayson and Violet Fox. The two college girls sat at the counter, slurping down chocolate milkshakes and studying. Their books covered a good portion of the countertop. Eva and Violet had started coming into the Pork Pit at least once a week when they had an hour or two to kill between classes. Sometimes, Cassidy, Eva's other friend, joined them. But more often than not it was just the two girls.
"So when are you going to go out with my big brother?"
Eva said, pushing aside her empty milkshake glass.
I looked up from my book. "Why do you ask?"
Eva stared at me. "Because every time I mention I've been in here, he asks me how you are, Gin. Why don't you give the poor guy a break?"
I raised my eyebrow. "If your big brother wants to ask me out, he can come down here and do it himself, instead of getting his little sister to plead his case to me."
Eva waved her hand. "I'm just filling you in on Owen's good qualities. Not pleading his case."
"What was it you told me you were majoring in again?"
"Marketing," Eva replied with a grin.
"I rest my case."
Violet just laughed and took another swig of her own milkshake.
The front door opened, causing the bell to chime. I looked up, ready to greet a potential customer.
And he walked into the restaurant.
Detective Donovan Caine. Black hair, golden eyes, bronze skin. The Hispanic detective looked the same as I remembered, except for the lines on his face. For once, they seemed to have smoothed out, as though some great weight had been lifted off his lean shoulders. As though he'd made some decision that had finally brought him a measure of peace. I wondered what it could be, but I had a funny feeling it had something to do with me. Maybe everything to do with me.