Round whose feet
A thousand fairies flock with blossoms sweet.
Cecily Mary Barker, “Spring Goes, Summer Comes”
AS THE BOOKCLUB TEA wrapped up and people exited, Yvanna began collecting tea cups and saucers and stowing them on the trolley, and I crossed to the acrylic podium to return it to the gardening tool cabinet. Fiona accompanied me and whistled for Pixie to join us. Though my sweet cat was enjoying Holly’s goodbye caresses, she bounded to us in record time. I bent and scratched her under the chin. When I rose, I caught sight of Idris moseying to me.
“What’s up?” she crooned. She wasn’t in uniform. She’d dressed in white jeans and white sweater, the embodiment of innocence.
“Be bold, Courtney,” Fiona advised.
Swell. The future queen fairy was getting bossy. We’d have to have a chat. For the time being, I nodded to Idris’s purse and said, “Does your envelope contain a DNA test result?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I believe you’re a Tillbury.”
“Is that some kind of bug?” Her lips turned up in amusement.
“Level with me, Idris. Something prompted you to delve into your genetic history. I’m assuming you received a letter or keepsake and learned your grandmother was adopted at birth. You discovered you were a descendant of the Tillbury clan and along the way, found out you had a distant cousin.”
“Cousin?” she asked coyly.
“Fourth- or fifth-removed. Tiana. You met her and won her confidence. Soon after, she naively revealed there was a family treasure. With malice aforethought, you lured her to Open Your Imagination and fed her a cookie you brushed with cyanide.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said in singsong fashion.
Fiona said, “Yes, she does. Her pupils are dilating, which I learned in a mystery—I can’t remember which one—occurs when lying, due to the increased stress associated with deception.”
Holy moly. Literature was truly increasing my darling fairy’s knowledge of crime.
I said, “After she died, you stole the treasure you unearthed from the patio and fled.”
“You can’t prove it.”
“I’ve alerted the police.”
“Why you . . .” She nabbed a pair of garden shears from a hook on the exterior of the cabinet and aimed them at me.
I grabbed a broom from within and held it with two hands like a staff. I’d taken a few self-defense and martial arts classes. I was no expert at either, but I did understand how to wield a bo.
Idris lunged.
I raised the bo, deflecting the attack. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Reddick charging across the patio.Phew!
“Drop those pruning clippers,” he bellowed.
Idris hesitated.
“Drop them now!”
Idris wheezed, her shoulders sagged, and she lowered her arm. In a frail voice, she rasped, “Do you understand . . .” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “Can you comprehend what it’s like to never know your family? Your real family? To always wonder?”
“You had real family,” I said. “Your mother and your father. I don’t know if you have siblings, but if you do, they’re all yours.”
“But they’re not my history. My past. When I searched my lineage throughPast Perfect, my world changed. I saw Tianna was alive and living in Carmel, and I thought I’d have a true cousin. We could share stories. I would learn all about the Tillburys.”
Something about her demeanor bothered me. She was too passionate. Too eager to convince us. I said, “I don’t believe you.”
