Page 19 of Equalizer
“Oh, there you are!” Winston greeted them. “Get settled and I’ll bring in your drinks. Dinner won’t be ready for a while yet.”
Despite the often hectic, dangerous, and unpredictable nature of their lives, Owen cherished the evenings when they could have an unhurried dinner and relax with the newspapers. His younger self wouldn’t have been able to comprehend the satisfaction of having a home, a partner, and an unusual but dependable found family.
I didn’t know what I was missing. Now that I have this, I’ll never let it go.
The apple cider was still steaming when Winston brought in the cups along with a dish of cookies. An envelope lay beside the plate.
“A letter from Miss Edwards came by courier,” he told them as he set the tray on a side table. “And I’ve put out inquiries among the local covens. A few old friends were persuaded to make introductions for me, and as it turned out, there is a witch here I met some time ago.”
“Is Arabella Munson one of your contacts?” Calvin asked.
Winston looked surprised. “Yes, actually. She’s the witch I met a while back. How do you know her?”
“We don’t,” Owen said. “But Louisa Sunderson, our Pinkerton contact, wanted to put us in touch with Arabella. So that’s a double recommendation.”
“I’ll see what I can arrange tomorrow,” Winston promised. “We still have a little while until dinner. Enjoy the papers, and I’ll call you when the food is ready.”
They settled in on the couch, closer than appropriate, and sipped their drinks in silence. The apple cider picked up extra flavor from a cinnamon stick, and Owen felt it burn away the chill from outside.
Calvin leaned forward to reach for the note and opened the seal. He scanned it quickly and looked up.
“Well?” Owen asked.
“Miss Edwards wants one of us to come with her tomorrow to meet with Miss Dawson, the woman who runs the settlement house,” Calvin said. “That definitely comes through from the resonance I get from the stationery. She apologized for asking for just one, but she thought the both of us might be too intimidating.”
“That’s fine,” Owen said. “I want to see if the ghosts can tell us anything more about the man who was following us. Whoever sent him is likely to try again.”
“Maybe Winston can turn something up with his magic,” Calvin suggested. “We can ask over dinner.”
They leaned back to read the papers and enjoy a moment of not needing to be on guard. Most of the headlines dealt with politics and local issues that weren’t important to Owen, but one jumped out at him.
“There was a death at the Wild West Show.” Owen turned the page so Calvin could see. “They aren’t open yet, so they were setting up, and the performers were practicing,” Owen summarized. “One of the riders was thrown from his horse and broke his neck.”
Calvin met his eyes. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“That the body might mysteriously disappear?”
Calvin nodded. “Yeah. Maybe you should have a look while I’m off meeting the settlement lady.”
“Okay,” Owen agreed, silently glad that if they were going to split up, Calvin’s mission for the next day didn’t seem likely to be dangerous. “I’ll have a look around and see if there’s anything strange. Although if the body didn’t get snatched, I’ll have to come up with another excuse.”
“I have faith in you,” Calvin joked.
“Dinner is ready.” Winston poked his head into the room. “Come to the table.”
They sat down to a roast chicken dinner with baked potatoes and vegetables which made Owen’s stomach rumble.
“I learned a bit about the warring Mob factions,” Winston said as they ate. “Some of it is old news—groups vying for more territory or power among their peers. From what I hear, the two most powerful families are always jockeying for power. It doesn’t affect outsiders unless it turns into a shooting war over turf.
“Everyone warned me that a lot of the Chicago cops are on the take, so they look the other way and let the families sort things out on their own,” Winston added.
“Lovely. I’d prefer not to get caught in the crossfire,” Calvin replied, and Owen nodded in agreement.
“Like with the covens, the older families dominate in more traditional areas—like construction, brothels, and the opium trade,” Winston continued. “A few up-and-coming families are betting on new-fangled discoveries like radiation and Tesla coils that aren’t proven butmightturn out to be big.”
“What the hell is a Tesla coil?” Owen remembered seeing the name of Nikolai Tesla, the inventor, in the newspaper and had been curious about what he created.
“A way to create very powerful electricity,” Calvin replied. At Owen’s raised eyebrows, Calvin shrugged.
