“I do,” Jerry said as he flounced into the foyer. He was dressed for work — bright blue pants paired with a peach polo shirt that made my eyes threaten to revolt — and in a good mood despite the Emmet reveal. “She can come with me.”
“You?” Griffin looked Jerry up and down. They were close, but the new father didn’t look keen on the idea. “Don’t you have work?”
“I do,” Jerry agreed amiably. “But I own the business. I can work the front. I don’t need to be in the kitchen. I can take Lily’s portable playpen and she can bond with her favorite uncle today.”
“I’m her favorite uncle,” Braden shot back.
“In your dreams,” Redmond guffawed. “We all know Lily loves me best.”
“Wrong. Lily loves me best.” Griffin grinned in his daughter’s face. “Everybody knows that little girls love their daddies best.”
“I didn’t,” Aisling countered. “I was independent from age three.”
Griffin snorted, and then tried to cover with a fake cough. When Aisling glared at him, he didn’t bother hiding his smile. “You are the queen of daddy’s girls the world over. Your father has spoiled you to the point of no return and you love him for it. That’s how I’ll be with Lily.”
“Good luck with that,” Braden said. “Dad is giving you a run for your money ... and speaking of money, he has much more of it, so he can buy her a diamond tiara when she asks for one.”
“That is one of my favorite memories.” Jerry took on a far-off look. “I looked great in that tiara.”
Aisling smiled. “Okay, Jerry. You can take her. If you run into trouble, promise to call me.”
“What trouble can I possibly get into?” Jerry demanded. “I’ve got it covered.”
“You have to change her diapers even if they make you gag.”
“I will make one of my female workers do that. One of them, Debbie, is almost forty and doesn’t have any kids. She says her ovaries ache when she sees babies. She’ll handle it for me.”
Clearly seeing no other choice, Aisling gave Lily a kiss. “Be good for Uncle Jerry.” Her eyes flicked to me. “What are you doing today?”
“Trying to figure out what’s going on with the gate,” I replied. “I’m still not sure how Emmet found his way to this side.”
“If you learn anything, let us know,” Redmond said. “We’d all like to know where he’s been and why he’s back.”
I WAS BARELY OUT OF MY CAR BEFORE Paris accosted me in the aquarium parking lot. She was normally pretty put together so I was instantly alert.
“Tell me somebody else isn’t dead,” I demanded.
“Not that I’m aware of,” she reassured me quickly.
“Then what’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong. The furries are here.” Her smile was so wide it almost swallowed her entire face.
“Okay.” The convention was scheduled to open with a meet-and-greet today and then swing into high gear tomorrow.
“No, I mean they’re here.” Paris extended her finger and pointed to the lawn on the east side of the aquarium. There two adult-sized – human adult-sized – wolves and a rabbit were posing in front of a hedge.
“What are they doing?” I was legitimately confused. “Are they ... doing a photo shoot?”
Paris nodded. “They have the special lights and everything. The photographer has told them to smize.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“Smile with their eyes. It’s a Tyra Banks thing.”
“Oh, well, if it’s a Tyra Banks thing.” I cocked my head to the side as the rabbit poked her bottom out and wiggled her tail, the wolves gesturing toward her in exaggerated fashion. “They don’t appear to be doing anything weird.”
Paris snorted. “Oh, come on. The whole thing is weird.”
I fixed her with a pointed look. “I would’ve thought you, more than anyone else, would be less likely to judge.” I found I was a little disappointed.
“I’m not judging. I think it’s great. I’m all for people expressing themselves. I’m a witch. I go to coven meetings. I might’ve even danced naked a time or two under the full moon ... but only because there was wine. I am not judging these people.”
“But?” I prodded.
“But I can’t stop looking.” Paris’s eyes lit with amusement. “They’re ... amazing. They’re frolicking in the greenhouse in costumes right now. I hear Claire is threatening to cook them into a stew.”
Oh, well, crap. I hadn’t considered that. “They’re in the conservatory?” That was not what I wanted to hear.
“Yeah.” Paris bobbed her head, distracted. She hadn’t yet picked up on my worry. “I hear they’re taking the place by storm.”
“Okay, well ... is everything all right downstairs?” I knew what I had to do, and it wasn’t going directly to the basement to check on the death gate.
“It’s fine.” Slowly, Paris tracked her eyes to me. “Why wouldn’t it be fine?”
“Emmet Grimlock crossed back in the middle of the night. He has no memory of the past five years or so. Cormack is having him checked by a doctor.”
Paris’s eyebrows flew toward her forehead. “You’re kidding me?”
“I was going to tell you first thing, but now I need to make sure Claire isn’t really boiling any fuzzy bunnies. Tell Oliver we need to conduct some research. I’ll check in with you guys once I make certain there’s no bloodshed at the conservatory.”
“Okay.” Paris offered up a wave. “That’s not weird or anything. I’ll tell Oliver.”
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Good luck. Claire is seriously scary when she wants to be.”
THE CONSERVATORY PARKING LOT was half full and yet the activity on the lawn had me pulling up short. There had to be at least fifty people enjoying themselves on a sunny afternoon ... most of them dressed in some of the most ornate costumes I’d ever seen.
“Look out,” a voice yelled from behind me.
Because I was expecting an attack — really, my life seemed to be multiple attacks stitched together with snark these days — I instinctively raised my hands. Thankfully I didn’t call on the fire, because the coyote riding a skateboard behind me probably wouldn’t have appreciated it if I’d ruined his costume.
“Hang ten!” he called out as he passed, waving. I pictured his smile under the mask and waved back.
They’re perfectly normal, I told myself as I headed toward the conservatory. Everybody likes something weird. This is just their weird thing. I wholeheartedly believed that, but the costumes were making me antsy.
Once through the front door, I scanned the various sections of the greenhouse for signs of trouble. I found Claire in the palm house, brandishing a pair of shears as she glared at what looked to be a pink husky.
For her part — at least I assumed it was a her given the build and delightful dancing on display — the husky didn’t look all that worried about what the merrow woman might do to her.