“Does she live in the UK?”
“Um… Yeah. Sort of. I haven’t seen her since I was a child. She’s very private. A little eccentric. I only spoke to her on the phone, but she heard about my accident and urged me to see you.”
“Would you mind if I called her and asked where she heard of me?” Freya cleared her throat. “I should give you a little context. My family has been missing for almost a year. I don’t know anyone in the UK, and I’m wondering if they might be there. Perhaps they spoke to her about me.”
Devon’s mouth opened, but he remained silent as if he had to think about his wording. At last, he said, “I don’t mind calling her, but why would your family speak to her and not to you? Are you on difficult footings?”
“No. Not at all. That’s part of the mystery of it. A year ago, I was out grocery shopping for our annual Yule celebration, and when I got home, they were gone. There was no note, so I just assumed they went for a walk. After a few hours, I couldn’t believe they were still out walking, so I started calling around. I checked hospitals, the elderly neighbors they sometimes visited, and even friends who may have come and picked them up. I had the only car.”
“Did you report them as missing to the police?”
“Yes. Days and weeks dragged on with no leads. My grandmother owns the house, so I have been paying the taxes, water bill, heat, etc. I don’t want her to lose her home.”
“And you lived somewhere else?”
“No. My sister and I lived… I mean,livewith her. They’re not dead. I would know.”
“No men around to take care of you?”
She was about to deliver a snarky remark about the women in her family taking care of themselves but thought better of it.
He slowly shook his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“That’s all right.”
As they were sitting quietly, contemplating their conversation, the phone rang.
“Oh. Can you wait a moment, and we’ll make your appointment after this call?”
“Of course.”
Freya jumped up to answer the old landline telephone and checked to see if the answering machine button was blinking with a message. She didn’t dare get rid of the old thing in favor of a mobile phone, just in case her relatives tried to call.
“Hello.”
“Hi, Freya. It’s Anna Reeve. I’m sorry to call at the last minute like this, but I’m afraid I have to cancel. I was just called out of town and must leave immediately. I’ll call to reschedule when I get back.”
“Of course. I understand.” She gazed at handsome Devon, sitting at her kitchen table, smiling as if he knew an appointment had just opened up.
2
Freya hung up the phone and strolled over to the kitchen table. “As it turns out, I’ve had a cancellation. I can get started now, or would you prefer to make an appointment for later in the week?”
“Now would be brilliant.”
“Okay, let me show you to the room. You can change into the short spa robe.”
She led him through the dining room to the small bedroom she’d converted into a massage space. The bed was gone—because, let’s be honest, having a bed in your massage room sends the wrong message. So, she’d hired a couple of guys to haul it to a storage unit for whenever her grandmother and sister returned. She still mourned the loss of her spot at the chiropractic center, but her wallet had made that decision for her. Thankfully, her regulars were loyal and didn’t mind coming to her house.
“Just give me a shout when you’re ready.”
Back in the kitchen, she mulled over how Devon’s great-aunt even knew she existed. Maybe one of her clients had run into the old woman in the UK and casually mentioned, ‘Oh, by the way,there’s a magical massage therapist in the States who works out of her cottage.’ Because that made sense… sort of. Then again, Devon had clearly mentioned his accident to his great-aunt, so maybe she was the connection. But how did she have Freya’s number? And why pass it along from across the freaking ocean?
“Ready!” Devon called out.
They chatted casually during the first part of the massage. They put forth all kinds of theories regarding the mysterious disappearance of Freya’s family, even entertaining the possibility of evil fairies kidnapping her relatives and holding them under a faerie hill somewhere. They both chuckled at the remoteness of that possibility, but Freya was grateful to talk to someone open-minded enough to entertain all theories. The police would have laughed her out of the station for even mentioning something like that.
During the second part of the massage, Freya determined where his leg’s serious damage lay and sent charged energy into the area. His remaining muscles jumped like a startled cat.
