Page 86 of Love, Magic and Misfortune
“Yes, I… Thank you,” Jasper said, bringing his mug to his lips.
“You all reading actual books is so surprising to me—andoldones,” Jillian said, sitting back in the armchair and cradling her third cup of mulled wine. “I do audiobooks because of all my travel, and I prefer autobiographies. I think it’s important to know the stories of influential people so that I can emulate them. But I have never touched Classical Greek lit.”
“Some of those books were required reading in high school and college, Jill,” Violet said.
“Right, but whoactuallyreads them? You just do a quick search of the Internet and find the summaries and reviews, yeah? Brilliant if there’s a movie adaptation.”
“Some are interesting though,” Jasper interjected. “They’re worth the actual read.”
“Like which ones?” Jillian asked, lifting her chin. “Where should I start, then?”
Jasper considered, his dark brows drawn and his very straight nose scrunched. “Hm, I enjoyedThe Frogsby Aristophanes. It’s a play about the politics of ancient Greece. It made me laugh out loud a few times.”
Jillian nodded. “That doesn’t sound too awful.”
“Yeah, you definitely want to start off lighter,” Violet added. “Avoid jumping into the pool with both feet and landing in something like Oedipus Rex.”
“What’s that?”
“A guy kills his father and ends up marrying his own mother.”
“Ew.”
“And the mom hangs herself and the husband-son gouges his eyes out after he realizes incest is not super great.”
“Violet, what the heck are you talking about?” Rosie walked back into the room, frowning at her sister. Violet shrugged.
“Greek tragedies.”
“That explains a little, butwhy?”
The doorbell rang, making everyone pause. Rosie looked to Violet. “You expecting someone today?”
“Nope. But you’re already standing, so…”
Rose rolled her eyes. “This girl.” She stalked out of the room and down the hallway. Everyone listened as she pulled the door open, greeted someone… Two someones. A quiet, muffled explanation of some sort, and then the floor squeaking underneath the weight of other people before the front door shut again. Rose turned the corner first, followed by a tall, scruffy man in a trench coat and a uniformed officer.
Violet stood, surprised at having police in her house… and on Christmas. “Detective Moreau, is everything alright?”
“Good afternoon, Ms. Ainsworth, and Happy Christmas. My apologies for disrupting this cozy gathering. I hate to put a damper on things, but I’m wondering if one of your guests might accompany me to the station for some questioning?
Scanning, Violet eyed everyone in the room. She frowned. “Who?”
Jillian jumped up from the armchair with a jolt, making Violet start in surprise. It was as if someone had shot a pistol and yelled “On your mark, get set, go!” completely unbeknownst to her. Jillian ran through the kitchen, slamming the back door open with a loud bang, and then pushing through the second door of the sun porch.
“Jillian?” Rose called out, bewildered.
The detective gestured toward the kitchen. “Officer Caron, if you please.” The officer nodded and took off through the house to follow her.
“Wh—what the heck is going on?” Rose demanded.
“We’ve been looking for—Jillian? Is that what you called her?”
“Yes,” Rose exclaimed. “That’s her name!”
“Actually, it isn’t,” the detective said. “She’s a fraud. She reestablishes herself in different places, with different people, then slowly steals their identities or possessions… If she’s the person we think she is, she’s got a record a mile long in the UK, and you’d be her fifth, and hopefully final, victim.”
They all stared at the detective as he brushed down the arm of one coat sleeve, then the other. At their silence, he looked up. “Is it possible to have a cup of tea?”
