Page 28 of The Mermaid's Bubble Lounge
He nodded. “Remember I told you my family used to be artisans in ancient China?”
“Yes, but you said they made teapots and cups.” I stepped back to take in more of the scene.
“Right, but we had painters in there as well. This painting has been treasured and passed down for centuries. I told my mom we were having a hard time deciding what to do in the dining room and she commissioned one of my cousins, who’s a graphic artist, to duplicate the painting.
“My parents have the original. It’s small, maybe eight by ten. My cousin had to digitize it and then sharpen the image enough to have it fill a wall this size. The nice part is that now every family member has a print of the original to hang in their home. And thanks to Mom, we have this mural.”
The painting was of an ancient Chinese village on a misty mountain in the clouds. The other walls had been painted a deep green. They played off the colors of the painting while disappearing from notice. The mural demanded all the attention.
“Wow,” I breathed. When I turned, I realized the others were waiting for us to sit down. “Sorry.”
The circular dining table filled the large dining room. Although there were only six places set tonight, it looked as though it could easily fit twelve.
“Perhaps we could eat before the food gets cold,” Benvair scolded.
I sat quickly and tried to blend into the background. George served up steaming slabs of lasagna and then we passed bowls of roasted asparagus and garlic bread.
The food was delicious, but I had a hard time focusing. My gaze kept drifting back to the artwork on the wall.
“I believe you had a question for me. Did you not?” Benvair asked, making me flinch. “Isn’t that the reason you’re joining our family dinner?”
FOURTEEN
The Face in the Mirror
I swallowed quickly and then took a sip of iced tea. “Yes. Of course.” I glanced at everyone eating. “It’s about the two killings at Fisherman’s Wharf, though. I don’t want to spoil anyone’s dinner.”
Benvair waved away the concern. “We’re all adults here. I hadn’t heard about a murder.” She turned to George. “Had you?”
He nodded, swallowing. “I did from Owen when he got home from work. I hadn’t heard anything earlier.”
Benvair turned back to me. “Start at the beginning.”
Looking longingly at the food I wanted to eat, I put down my fork and explained what had happened the last two nights at the wharf.
Benvair turned to Owen, so I snuck a quick bite of lasagna. “This isn’t something wicches can do?”
He shook his head. “According to Mom and a few crones at work, no.”
“Hmm.” Benvair nodded. “Lydia would know if it could be done.”
I didn’t know why her simple statement made my throat tighten. I’d been worried, I supposed. I didn’t want Owen to be treated like a second-class citizen in his relationship. Benvair believed dragons were the greatest creatures in the realms, so I worried that Owen, being a wicche, was given the kind of verbal slaps I was getting tonight. Benvair’s complete confidence that Owen’s mom Lydia clearly knew everything there was to know about wicchecraft settled my heart.
Owen, who was sitting beside me, reached under the table and patted my leg. I swore, the man was an empath.
“I checked with Dave about demons,” I told them. “He said one could, but he’d checked The Bubble Lounge, and one didn’t. Apparently, he doesn’t need to rely on scent. Demons leave some kind of trace that other demons can see, which is interesting.”
Benvair took a sip of her wine. “And now you’re wondering if a dragon did it? No. We don’t kill that way and we’d never kill innocents like that.” Red fired in her eyes.
I held up a hand. “No, no. I wasn’t suggesting that. I was looking for your insight into the killing. Vlad says vampires can’t drain a body that quickly.”
“How do they know the bodies were drained?” George asked. “Does Russell have the autopsy report?”
I shook my head. “Not that I know. We spoke to him last night about the first killing. He was able to get the autopsy moved up, but they didn’t yet have the report. The nocturne has an informant in the morgue, though, who described the body as drained.”
“You mentioned a video,” George said. “Can we see it?”
“Sure.” I pulled my phone out and started to hand it to him.
