Page 25 of A Jingle of Justice
No child but must remember laying his head in the grass,
staring into the infinitesimal forest and seeing it
grow populous with fairy armies.
~ Robert L. Stevenson, “Treasure Island”
THE HARRISON LIBRARYWAS A GREAT PLACE for people of all ages. For kids, they had story time, craft time, baby time, and preschool yoga. They even offered a drawing class for tweens. The library’s motto wasBusy minds are happy minds. Though the place wasn’t huge, it had a terrific collection of books, e-books, audiobooks, and movies. In addition, it featured the history of Carmel through photographs, letters, diaries, maps, and yearbooks. Lissa Reade was in when I asked for her. We met at a table in the Barnet Segal Reading Room of the library, an expansive, light-filled space fitted with a fireplace, tables, and easy chairs.
For the first half hour, after I explained my quest, we didn’t speak. She browsed the Internet on her laptop. Fiona danced along the edge of the table, humming a little ditty. Other patronsin the room didn’t seem to be disturbed by my fairy’s music, meaning only Lissa and I could hear her.
“Where’s Merryweather Rose of Song?” I asked Lissa when the quiet felt overwhelming. Merryweather was Fiona’s aunt and mentor.
“Around and about,” Lissa said.
Merryweather was a guardian fairy and dwelled in the library, devoted to inspiring patrons to learn.
“I’m right here,” the elderly fairy chimed, and landed atop the table. Unlike Fiona, her cheeks were plump and her wings sported matching polka dots.
Fiona popped to her feet. When she’d first arrived in the human world, her aunt had been a rigorous taskmaster. Now, Merryweather was delighted to be her tutor. She loved how bright Fiona had turned out to be. The two hugged warmly.
“Finally. Here we are.” Lissa tapped the screen. “Doreen Tillbury, also known as Reenie, was Daniel Tillbury’s sole child. She never married.”
I sighed. “I guess that answers my question. There are no other living descendants on Daniel’s side.”
“Now hold on.” Lissa patted my hand. “Don’t be in such a rush. I think your idea has merit, and I see Doreen was a traveler. Europe was her favorite destination. However, after the travel bug was sated, she settled down and became a baker.”
“A baker,” I said, “like her cousin Thessalonia. Here in Carmel?”
“No. In Chicago.”
“Whoa! Horace Elias just came back from a trip there. Coincidence?”
Lissa didn’t respond.
Fiona said, “She left town when she was a teenager. What if . . .” She paused.
“What if what?” I asked.
“I’m not hurling accusations,” Fiona said, “but what if she traveled so much because she was pregnant, and when she was ready to have the child, she decided to settle in Chicago?”
“Excellent deduction,” Merryweather said.
Lissa typed a command in the search bar and clicked Enter. “Well, well. Yes, I’ve found something. She put up a child for adoption—a girl named Daniella—the day the girl was born.”
“In Chicago?” I asked.
“Yes. Now let’s see what the adoption agency can share with us.” She continued to type.
After an hour, all she found out was Daniella was adopted by John Smith and his wife.
“John Smith? How generic can you get?” I groused.
Further exploration didn’t lead to any family connection to Horace Elias or Ferguson Moss or even Shara Popple. It was a dead end.
Frustrated, I returned to Open Your Imagination—Fiona flew off with her aunt—and I helped a few customers with their purchases. One woman, my hygienist who had the most perfect teeth, requested a private lesson. For her I would squeeze it in. We convened on the patio, and I taught her how to set up the story for her garden. She’d chosen twin figurines because she, herself, had twin girls. How she raised them and held such a demanding job was beyond me. The twins loved to play hide and seek in the backyard, she divulged. I advised her to select plants large enough for the fairy figurines to crouch behind, and we added environmental pieces similar to those in her own yard—a swing set, a slide, and koi pond.
When I was ringing her up, Yvanna rushed into the shop. She was still clad in her holiday outfit, but she’d removed her Sweet Treats apron.
