Chicory Up: The Pixie Chronicles by Irene Radford Read Free Book Online

Dick.”
    “And where will you be? You’re a fugitive from justice.”
    “I’ll be where they least expect to find me, right under their noses. I am half Faery after all. They’ll never think to look for me in my true form.” He laughed, long and loud. The notes of his amusement rose to a shrill hysteria.
    Phelma Jo wondered if jail had driven him mad.
    He was insane before jail drove him deeper into a surreal world of his own making. Half Faery indeed.
    He disappeared through her door in a cloud of dull gold glitter that should have sparkled but didn’t.
    Casually she dialed 911 and reported seeing an escaped fugitive. She feared what he would do to her this time. The backup county dispatcher ate it up.

Five

    C HASE’S SHOULDER RADIO CRACKLED before Dusty could reply to his condition for eloping. Oh, how he wished she’d comply. He wanted nothing more than to marry her as soon as possible. They should have eloped before her parents came home from three months in England. And her father, the moderating force in the family, took off for Las Vegas to acquire yet another degree. What was it, his third Masters? Or was it his fourth?
    “Norton here,” he said into the mike, keeping his eyes on Dusty.
    “That you, Chase?” Mabel asked. She sounded vague and disoriented. Not at all like the Mabel who’d kept the police department organized and on the ball since before Chase was born.
    “Who else would answer when you call this frequency?” he asked. “Gotta go,” he mouthed to Dusty. “I’ll call you.”
    He backed out of the employee workroom tacked onto the back of the old house, careful not to trip on the lip into the main part of the museum.
    “Sergeant Norton, Mrs. Spencer over on Seventh reports some vandalism to her hawthorn tree.”
    “I know where Mrs. Spencer lives.” The elderly lady had taught fourth grade to almost everyone in town. She’d only retired on her eightieth birthday because the state threatened to revoke her teaching certificate if she didn’t.
    “What’s that about a hawthorn tree?” Dusty asked, following Chase toward the door.
    “That you, Dusty?” Mabel asked.
    “Yes. What about the hawthorn?”
    “Around dawn, neighbors reported strange activity shaking the tree from within. When Mrs. Spencer went out to check, half the branches had been stripped of leaves and thorns.”
    “Thistle got a thorn stuck in her hand this morning. She never left our yard, and we don’t have a hawthorn,” Dusty said.
    “I’ll take it from here, Dusty.” Chase dropped a quick kiss on her brow and lengthened his stride toward the door. “Think about what we discussed.”
    Dusty paced him, nearly running to keep up.
    “Chase, let her finish talking,” Mabel admonished him. “Chicory reports strangers in his territory. He came limping in this morning with a torn wing and a cut on his arm. He lost his hat, too. That’s hard to imagine. Hats are important to… to his family.”
    “I’ll check out Mrs. Spencer’s yard; then come in for a chat. Dusty, can you get away to join us in about an hour?” Chase tried to take control of the situation, knowing he’d get nowhere fast without Dusty and Mabel’s cooperation.
    “Let me make a few phone calls to get a volunteer to cover for me. We might get some customers, but that isn’t likely on a school day in October with showers in the forecast. After school, though, we’ll get older kids wanting to scout out the haunted maze before it’s haunted.”
    “Chase, did you show Dusty the CM poster?” Mabel sounded more like herself, less weak and vague. “The kid might follow other teens into the maze.”
    “Not yet. You show her when we get there.”
    “Hope we aren’t too late on that one.”
    Chase didn’t like the unease in Mabel’s warning. He hated the thought of any CM facing the dangerous reality of life on the streets. “Dusty, bring Thistle. We’ll probably need her for a couple of things,” Chase said, dashing out the