Ruby pointed to a wall of old photos. “That’s a picture of the old ferry docks before the boardwalk was built. And that one’s when the Governor came and stayed at the ranch.”
“The Governor of Washington is a supernatural creature?”
“Not the current one,” she replied. “No, this was several governors ago. I can’t remember his magical ability, but several of his daughters were very talented spellcasters.” She pointed to another photo. “And that’s the old ski resort.”
“On the backside of Mystic Mountain?”
Ruby’s eyes lit up. “You’re a skier? You’ve been there?”
I laughed. “No, no. I just read about it in one of the guidebooks. I heard that it’s haunted.”
She gripped my arm enthusiastically. “I can teach you, if you want.”
Travis’s voice boomed from the other room. “You’re not teaching Daphne how to ski, Ruby!”
Ruby frowned. “Why not? I’m an excellent skier.”
“Because the last person you tried to teach got hauled off the mountain by the ski patrol.”
She chuffed and rolled her eyes. “How was I to know he was going to break his leg?”
We headed down a long hallway, and she paused at the doorway to a cluttered office piled high with packing boxes. “I’m glad to see my sister is clearing this out.”
“Your father’s?”
“Yep,” she said tightly. “I should probably offer to help, but...” She walked in and as she looked around, her shoulders visibly relaxed. “I can’t tell you how different this place feels without him. I’m not sure what Travis has told you about our dad.”
“He’s told me a little.”
Ruby grabbed a stack of magazines, including Paranormal Paradise, pushed aside a few boxes on the leather sofa and motioned for me to sit with her. “He wasn’t an easy man to be around, and that’s being generous. But heloooovedthe fact that his eldest son was a famous actor and collected every article he could find about him. I’m sure he showed them to all of his barely legal mistresses. He’d have his hunting buddies over and casually have one of these magazines open. It was comical, really. If you weren’t one of his other children.”
It couldn’t have been easy for Travis, either, to have his father so obsessed with his outward fame yet care so little about the person he was inside.
As I paged through a few of the magazines, I couldn’t help but notice that Travis had been photographed in manyglamorous places—movie premieres, private jets—and was often accompanied by very attractive supernatural women. While I knew theoretically that comparison was the thief of joy, a tiny part of me wondered what he saw in a human girl from the Midwest who thrifted most of her clothes and whose idea of a good time was going to a bookstore that served cocktails.
“So, you live on the mainland?” I asked Ruby.
She nodded. “In West Seattle, near the water. It’s quirky, like Darkaway, but without the magic or emotional baggage.”
Seemed as though their father had done a number on her as well.
“But I’m not there much,” she continued. “I’m an investigative journalist and travel around a lot.”
“Sounds exciting.” I pointed to the stacks of magazines. “Did your father save any of your articles too? I’d love to read your work.”
She scoffed. “Are you kidding? He cared only about my brother’s glamorous life.” I was glad she didn’t seem to harbor any ill feelings toward Travis and put the blame solely on their father where it belonged.
We talked about some of the favorite places she’d traveled to and about a few of the scandals she’d uncovered. We thought it was funny that both of our mothers were having solo adventures later in life—although mine was with her girlfriends and hers was with a ‘gentleman friend.’ When I told her about being a lab tech and what had happened with Pharma-Douche, she got just as pissed as Travis and wanted to rip the guy’s liver out. God, I loved this family.
“How about you?” I asked. “Anyone special in your life?”
Ruby shrugged. “No, not really. I’ve been seeing this one guy for a while, but I’m kind of getting bored with him.”
“Why don’t you break up then?”
She gave a little laugh. “Because he knows where the clit is.”
I snorted. Her brother did too.
