"That would be fine-if it were just her," Rowansaid patiently. "But it's not. Are we going to influ enceeveryone who comes to the house? What aboutpeople who call on the phone? What about teachers?You two are supposed to start school in a couple of weeks."
"Maybe we'll just have to miss that," Kestrel said without regret.
Rowan was shaking her head. "We need a permanent solution. We need to find some reasonable explanation for why Aunt Opal is gone."
"We need to move Aunt Opal," Kestrel said flatly."We need to get rid of her."
"No, no. We might have to produce the body,"Rowan said.
"Looking likethat?"
They began to argue about it. Jade rested her chin on Tiggy's head and stared out the multipaned kitchen window. She was thinking about Mark Carter, who had such a gallant heart. It gave her a pleasantly forbidden thrill just to picture him. Back home there weren't any humans wandering around free. She could never have been tempted to break NightWorld law and fall in love with one. But here ...yes, Jade could almost imagine falling in love with Mark Carter. Just as if she were a human girl.
She shivered deliriously. But just as she was tryingto picture what human girls did when they were in love, Tiggy gave a sudden heave. He twisted out of her arms and hit the kitchen floor running. The fur on his back was up.
Jade looked at the window again.She couldn't see anything. But ...she felt ...
She turned to her sisters. "Something was out there in the garden tonight," she said. "And Icouldn't smell it."
Rowan and Kestrel were still arguing. They didn't hear her.
Mary-Lynnette opened her eyes and sneezed. She'd overslept. Sun was shining around the edges of her dark blue curtains.
Get up and get to work, she told herself. But instead she lay rubbing sleep out of her eyes and tryingto wake up. She was a night person, not a morningperson.
The room was large and painted twilight blue. Mary-Lynnette had stuck the glow-in-the-dark starsand planets to the ceiling herself. Taped onto the dresser mirror was a bumper sticker saying I BRAKEFOr ASTEROIDS.On the walls were a giant relief map of the moon, a poster from the Sky-Gazer's Almanac, and photographic prints of the Pleiades,theHorsehead Nebula, and the total eclipse of 1995.
It was Mary-Lynnette's retreat, the place to go when people didn't understand. She always felt safeinthe night.
She yawned and staggered to the bathroom, grabbing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt on the way. She was brushing her hair as she walked down the stairs when she heard voices from the living room.
-252Claudine's voice ... and a male voice. Not Mark; weekdays he usually went to his friend Ben's house.A stranger.
Mary-Lynnette peeked through the kitchen. Therewas a guy sitting on the living room couch. She could see only the back of his head, which was ash blond. Mary-Lynnette shrugged and started to open the refrigerator, when she heard her own name.
"Mary-Lynnette is very good friends with her," Claudine was saying in her quick, lightly accented voice. "I remember a few years ago she helped her fix up a goat shed."
They're talking about Mrs. B.!
"Why does she keep goats? I think she told Mary-Lynnette it would help since she couldn't get out that much anymore."
"How strange," the guy said. He had a lazy, careless-sounding voice. "I wonder what she meant bythat."
Mary-Lynnette, who was now peering intently through the kitchen while keeping absolutely still,saw Claudine give one of her slight, charming shrugs.
"I suppose she meant the milk-every day she has fresh milk now. She doesn't have to go to the store. But I don't know. You'll have to ask her yourself." She laughed.
-252Not going to be easy, Mary-Lynnette thought. Now, why would some strange guy be here asking questions about Mrs. B.?
Of course. He had to be police or something. FBI.But his voice made her wonder. He sounded too young to be either, unless he was planning to infiltrate Dewitt High as a narc. Mary-Lynnette edgedfarther into the kitchen, getting a better view.There-she could see him in the mirror.
Disappointment coursed through her.
Definitely not old enough to be FBI. And much asMary-Lynnette wanted him to be a keen-eyed, quick witted, hard-driving detective, he wasn't. He was only the handsomest boy she'd ever seen in her life.
He was lanky and elegant, with long legs stretched out in front of him, ankles crossed under the coffee table. He looked like a big amiable cat. He had deancut features, slightly tilted wicked eyes, and a disarming lazy grin.
Not just lazy, Mary-Lynnette decided. Fatuous. Bland. Maybe even stupid. She wasn't impressed by good looks unless they were the thin, brown, and interesting kind, like-well, like Jeremy Lovett for instance. Gorgeous guys-guys who looked like bigash-blond cats-didn't have any reason to develop their minds. They were self-absorbed and vain. With IQs barely high enough to keep a seat warm.
And this guy looked as if he couldn't get awake orserious to save his life.
I don't care what he's here for. Ithink I'll go upstairs.
it was then that the guy on the couch lifted onehand, wiggling the fingers in the air. He half-turned. Not far enough actually to look at Mary-Lynnette,but far enough to make it dear he was talking to somebody behind him. She could now see his profilein the mirror. "Hi, there."
"Mary-Lynnette, is that you?" Claudine called.
"Yes." Mary-Lynnette opened the refrigerator doorand made banging noises. "Just getting some juice. Then I'm going out."
Her heard was beating hard-with embarrassmentand annoyance. Okay, so he must have seen her in the mirror. He probably thought she was staring at him because of the way he looked. He probably had people staring at him everywhere he went. So what, big deal, go away.