Read Online The Parting Glass (Caitlin Ross Book 4) by Katherine Lampe - Free Book Online
Authors: Katherine Lampe
Ads: Link
I cleared my throat and began.
“How can I live at the top of a mountain,
With no money in my pockets and no gold for to count it?
But I would let the money go
All for to prove my fancy
And I will marry no one but my bonnie, blue-eyed lassie.”
Now I had my turn to see Timber’s eyes widen in shock. He hadn’t thought I had it in me to follow his performance. How little he knew about me. I didn’t sing as well as I played the flute but I was still no slouch at the old ballads.
I finished the song to mild applause—the audience was ready to hear more rousing tunes—tagged it with the traditional “That’s it,” and picked up my flute…only to find Timber standing at my elbow. He had Kevin with him.
“That was very nice. Now may we please get the business done?”
“But the next set is starting up!” The fiddle section had launched into a reel set I especially liked and my fingers itched to play. “Can’t it wait a little longer?”
“No.” He punctuated his refusal with a rattle of the spoons and tucked them in his back pocket. “Kevin has told me he won’t be staying long tonight. It’s now or never.”
“Oh all right.” Carefully, I set my flute on my chair to hold my place and followed the two men over to a secluded booth in one corner of the room. Timber ordered another round of Black and Tans and we waited for them to arrive before speaking.
“So what’s up?” Kevin asked, mystified. He didn’t know of my supernatural abilities and I wanted to keep it that way.
“Well the truth is, we’re looking for John Stonefeather. He came to my shop the other day looking for help with something and no one has seen him since. His house looks like he hasn’t been there in weeks.”
“I know; I stopped by there.” He sipped his beer. “He promised months ago to make a drum for me and I paid him for it, but he hasn’t come through.”
“So do you know where he might be?”
Kevin shook his head, making his dreadlocks swing. “Not a clue. I even checked his studio uptown but it didn’t look like he’d been there, either. At least, it was all locked up and the windows were covered so I couldn’t tell.”
“Studio?” Timber sat up straighter. “Where would that be?”
“North Boulder. Up past the strip club. It’s actually a storage unit but a lot of people use them as studios because the rent is cheap. I’ve heard some folks even live there.”
“I didn’t know Stonefeather had a place up there,” I said.
“Yeah, he likes to keep it quiet so people don’t come bugging him when he’s working, I guess.”
“Do you know the number?” Timber asked.
“24-31. Do you think there’s something wrong with him?”
Timber and I exchanged glances. “Maybe. He looked pretty bad when he came into my shop.”
“Man, I hope you can find him.” Kevin’s warm brown eyes shone with genuine concern. “Have you tried checking the hospitals?”
I felt like slapping myself in the head. Of course, the hospitals were the first place a Mundane would think to look. I didn’t think John would have checked himself into one, but he could have passed out and been picked up by the police. For that matter, he could have been picked up for being drunk and disorderly and be cooling his heels in the tank.
“I don’t think…” Timber began, but I shushed him.
“I think that’s a great idea. I’m surprised we hadn’t thought of it. Thanks for the info, Kevin.”
“Does this mean I can get back to the music now?” He looked with longing over his shoulder.
“Go on,” I said, waving him away. I could not mistake the relief in his eyes at getting back to his drum—or maybe it was at getting away from Timber, whose face had taken on a definite scowl.
“Hospitals? We’re looking for a shaman who’s involved in dark doings, not the victim of a random accident.”
“And what affect did those dark doings have on him? We don’t know. Sometimes dark magic doesn’t look any
“How can I live at the top of a mountain,
With no money in my pockets and no gold for to count it?
But I would let the money go
All for to prove my fancy
And I will marry no one but my bonnie, blue-eyed lassie.”
Now I had my turn to see Timber’s eyes widen in shock. He hadn’t thought I had it in me to follow his performance. How little he knew about me. I didn’t sing as well as I played the flute but I was still no slouch at the old ballads.
I finished the song to mild applause—the audience was ready to hear more rousing tunes—tagged it with the traditional “That’s it,” and picked up my flute…only to find Timber standing at my elbow. He had Kevin with him.
“That was very nice. Now may we please get the business done?”
“But the next set is starting up!” The fiddle section had launched into a reel set I especially liked and my fingers itched to play. “Can’t it wait a little longer?”
“No.” He punctuated his refusal with a rattle of the spoons and tucked them in his back pocket. “Kevin has told me he won’t be staying long tonight. It’s now or never.”
“Oh all right.” Carefully, I set my flute on my chair to hold my place and followed the two men over to a secluded booth in one corner of the room. Timber ordered another round of Black and Tans and we waited for them to arrive before speaking.
“So what’s up?” Kevin asked, mystified. He didn’t know of my supernatural abilities and I wanted to keep it that way.
“Well the truth is, we’re looking for John Stonefeather. He came to my shop the other day looking for help with something and no one has seen him since. His house looks like he hasn’t been there in weeks.”
“I know; I stopped by there.” He sipped his beer. “He promised months ago to make a drum for me and I paid him for it, but he hasn’t come through.”
“So do you know where he might be?”
Kevin shook his head, making his dreadlocks swing. “Not a clue. I even checked his studio uptown but it didn’t look like he’d been there, either. At least, it was all locked up and the windows were covered so I couldn’t tell.”
“Studio?” Timber sat up straighter. “Where would that be?”
“North Boulder. Up past the strip club. It’s actually a storage unit but a lot of people use them as studios because the rent is cheap. I’ve heard some folks even live there.”
“I didn’t know Stonefeather had a place up there,” I said.
“Yeah, he likes to keep it quiet so people don’t come bugging him when he’s working, I guess.”
“Do you know the number?” Timber asked.
“24-31. Do you think there’s something wrong with him?”
Timber and I exchanged glances. “Maybe. He looked pretty bad when he came into my shop.”
“Man, I hope you can find him.” Kevin’s warm brown eyes shone with genuine concern. “Have you tried checking the hospitals?”
I felt like slapping myself in the head. Of course, the hospitals were the first place a Mundane would think to look. I didn’t think John would have checked himself into one, but he could have passed out and been picked up by the police. For that matter, he could have been picked up for being drunk and disorderly and be cooling his heels in the tank.
“I don’t think…” Timber began, but I shushed him.
“I think that’s a great idea. I’m surprised we hadn’t thought of it. Thanks for the info, Kevin.”
“Does this mean I can get back to the music now?” He looked with longing over his shoulder.
“Go on,” I said, waving him away. I could not mistake the relief in his eyes at getting back to his drum—or maybe it was at getting away from Timber, whose face had taken on a definite scowl.
“Hospitals? We’re looking for a shaman who’s involved in dark doings, not the victim of a random accident.”
“And what affect did those dark doings have on him? We don’t know. Sometimes dark magic doesn’t look any
Similar Books
