Read Online The Metaphysical Detective (A Riga Hayworth Paranormal Mystery) by Kirsten Weiss - Free Book Online Page B

become a metaphysical detective and you don’t even have a webpage.  Considering the timing, I assumed the career change was because of what happened in Afghanistan—“
    “You don’t know what happened there,” she said sharply.  She turned away from him, swirling the wine in her glass.  The deaths hadn’t made a ripple in the US news feed – Iraq was hot at the time and Afghanistan the “good,” ignored war.  However, if someone dug, they’d find a short, uninformative news blurb.  The reporting had been poor but the Internet had a long memory.
    He gave her an appraising look. “But now I think it might have something to do with your ability to turn off streetlights when you get within five yards of them.”
    She felt the glass slip from her nerveless fingers.  Donovan moved in a blur, catching it before it hit the carpet.  He placed it atop a stack of books lying on the coffee table between them.  “Careful.”  He gave her a long look.  “It looks like you need a drink.”
    “I think I do,” she said hoarsely, and took a gulp.  The warmth of the fire bathed her skin as the wine blossomed inside her.  Light folded in on itself – billions of dazzling stars followed by the cool sweet dark of infinite space.
     

Chapter 13: Ariadne’s Secret
    Riga dreamed she was Ariadne.  Their ship docked at the port of a fishing village at Naxos, waves slapping against the sides of the wood planking, sailors bustling with ropes and shouting to men on the pier.  Her lover, Theseus, was busy below deck.  He’d kept away from her lately; she knew it was over.  She had betrayed her father and king by helping Theseus kill the Minotaur and escape the labyrinth.  It had been the right thing to do – the sacrifices to the minotaur had to end – but she felt hollowed out inside.  She couldn’t go back, and her dream of escaping with Theseus was dissolving.  His coming betrayal should have stung more, but it seemed small payment for her own treachery. 
    The youngest sailor, a boy of no more than twelve, took her hand, startling her from her reverie. 
    “Let’s go to the town,” he said. 
    She looked toward the ship’s cabin. 
    Theseus emerged, his hair shining in the sunlight, his toga hanging loosely about his waist and shoulder.  “Go, enjoy yourself!  We depart at sunset,” he said, waving her off.
    Liar .
    “You should stay on the ship, little one,” she said.
    The boy had attached himself to her not long after she and Theseus had escaped Crete.  He looked at her now, adoring, and shook his head.  He took her hand and led her across the wooden plank to the pier.  The boy exclaimed with delight over the baskets of fish, the jars of olives, the smells from the bakery stall. 
    The two walked to the top of hill overlooking the port, the sun high above them and she watched the ship move steadily out into the waters, away from her.  Ariadne’s only regret was for the boy, who had been abandoned with her by his shipmates.  He tugged at her hand and she looked down upon him.  Their eyes met.  She had the sensation of falling, the stars spinning about her.  This was no boy, it was Dionysus, and he had come for her.
    Riga awoke, the dream hanging on her and it felt as if she had experienced events that had actually occurred.  She knew the story of Ariadne’s abandonment by Theseus (the jerk) on the island of Naxos, and of her rescue by Dionyus, but the idea of him appearing to her as a young boy onboard ship was new.  Had she read it somewhere? 
    A pan clattered in the kitchen and she became aware of the scent of breakfast – onions, fragrant cheese, bacon.  She belted a cotton robe about her waist and padded into the kitchen. 
    Donovan was there, in a display of either nerve or innocence.  She voted for the former.
    He flipped an omelet in one of her non-stick pans and turned to her with a rakish grin.  “Morning, Beautiful!”  He was barefoot, in loose black pants and a white