Chapter 26

  We found Clark Turner - and a number of the younger members of Oakwood's gnome clan - industriously working on the interior of the old social hall in preparation for its renovations. To my astonishment - it hadn't even been a whole week yet - the entire first floor had been cleaned and stripped to bare wood and stone. Sections of the floor and walls had even been carefully removed to reveal 1950's vintage plumbing and electrical work.

  Well…Penny, Sparkle and I were astonished. Jessie, on the other hand, just nodded. "I've done some business with gnomes in the past. Like brownies, they're crazy hard workers when you're on their good side, and damn fine wood-workers. I learned some of what I know 'bout shapin' wood from gnomes."

  Introductions were made, and it wasn't long before we were sitting on the social hall's front steps, drinking lemonade. Jessie, sitting between me and Clark, lifted her glass in a silent toast after the first sip. "Think I like British lemonade. It don't have the same bite as what I'm used to, but it goes down smooth and is very refreshing."

  "Thank you. Sorry about the mess inside," Clark said, "this is the best I can do for hospitality." He wiped his forehead with his sleeve and sipped his drink. "At least for now. But I can tell you that after a couple of weeks of gentle probing, I feel safe saying that most of the town is at least passingly and quietly familiar with the existence of the supernatural and paranormal, even if they haven't experienced anything themselves."

  Jessie nodded. "My bosses suspected as much. Tough to have a place like Oakwood Hall up the road without the whole area bein' at least subtly saturated. Think the town council could be talked into settlin' a few uncanny folk in town?"

  "Probably," Clark said, "as long as they're friendly and really interested in being town residents. Oakwood's a pretty tightly-knit community, and we like it that way."

  "Oh, don't worry," Jessie said, smirking ever so slightly. "Anybody who settled here would be in keepin' with the village's rustic aesthetic."

  I almost snorted lemonade out of my nose, and elbowed her arm gently.

  She flashed me one of her small smiles, and I resolved to find out why she rarely smiled more than that. Just as soon as I could without being terribly rude, anyway.

  "I'll have to talk to the town council about it, of course," Clark said, after giving us both blank looks. "I can make a lot of decisions myself, but that one I think had better be put to a vote. It'd help if you could give us an idea what kind of people we'd be taking in. And…" He hesitated, wincing. "I hate myself for saying it, since it sounds very racist, but some reassurances about their behavior."

  "Don't hate yourself for wantin' to keep your home safe," Jessie said. "Ain't nothin' more important in this world than a home."

  I thought she sounded a little sad as she said it, but she covered it well. It reminded me of what she'd said about Oakwood being the kind of place someone could make a home, and I wondered where she called home.

  Or if she even had a place like that right now.

  "The UNSDI has an info packet we give to towns that're interested," Jessie was saying. "It covers all the basics…what type of folks we'd be movin' in, what kinda support the UNSDI offers in return - mostly monetary, and not chump change - stuff like that. I can drop it by in a day or two, if you'd like."

  Clark nodded. "If Caley thinks it's a good idea, I'm open to it. I imagine the other council members will be too."

  "I'd like to see that material myself," I said. "It sounds like a good idea on the surface, but…"

  Jessie gave me another of her thin-lipped smiles. "Yeah, it's a big thing. If it helps," she said, looking back at Clark, "the UNSDI'd wanna open a little branch office here in town. To keep an eye on the uncanny residents. They're folks we trust, but we're also not the type to take any chances. And it'd let us keep closer relations with Oakwood Hall." She nodded to me. "Which my bosses also very much want."

  Clark must've seen the look of consternation on my face, because he laughed softly. "Didn't expect to be the local celebrity when you moved home, did you, Caley."

  I scratched my right ear and looked at my feet. "I never expected to be the sort of person who was courted by major world powers. It doesn't feel right."

  Behind us, Penny made a sound that sounded like a quickly smothered laugh.

  Jessie chuckled softly. "You'll get used to it. An' it'll die down once people get a look atcha, see where you stand and what you stand for."

  "Just as soon as I figure that out for myself," I muttered, and drank a bit more lemonade.

  Clark laughed. "Caley, I've only known you for a couple of weeks, and I can already tell what you stand for."

  I looked at him, honestly curious. "Oh? What?"

  He smiled gently, then gestured in a wide arc, taking in the whole of the town that we could see from where we sat. "You stand for this. For us. For all of the people who either can't - or don't know how to - protect themselves."

  I blinked at him owlishly. "What?"

  Penny was laughing quietly again, and after a moment I felt her chin rest on my shoulder. "He's right," she said softly. "Just since I've known you, you've founded a colony of Fae creatures and promised to protect them, negotiated with a clan of gnomes to resume living peacefully in Oakwood, protected a family from rat-like monsters…"

  That last one seemed to draw Jessie's attention. She gave Penny a curious look, but didn't say anything.

  "And now," Penny continued, "you're making friends with a representative of an organization that can help you protect the town, while opening a way to protect even more people by settling them here." She huffed a laugh in my ear and leaned lightly against my back. "You, Caley, are a born protector. You can't seem to help yourself"

  Clark was nodding. "Exactly what I mean. Thank you, Penny."

  "My pleasure," Penny said seriously.

  I, meanwhile, was sitting there staring down at my hands, feeling my cheeks flaming. "I'm not…"

  "You totally are," Jessie laughed. "Even I can see that, and we practically just met."

  "I'm just trying to do the right thing…" I protested weakly.

  "They're right," Sparkle said just loud enough for everyone to hear her, startling Clark a little before he realized who was talking. "Better just admit it, Caley."

  This conversation was becoming very uncomfortable. I cleared my throat and lifted my eyes, turning to face them more directly. "So, um…Clark…once you're out of that little two-story house you've been using as the town offices, perhaps the UNSDI could lease it?"

  Clark gave me an amused smile. "That's a possibility."

  "I wouldn't mind takin' a look at it," Jessie said. "Make sure it'll work. UNSDI's got money, so we can always renovate a bit."

  "Renovate how?" Clark asked, turning fully toward her. "So I can tell the rest of the council."

  Jessie nodded. "Standard field office includes a couple o' reinforced holdin' cells in the basement, along with a secure vault for equipment storage…"

  Clark nodded, looking a bit relieved. "The building has a finished stone basement."

  "Good start," Jessie said. "In a multi-story buildin', first floor is usually given over to outreach and community engagement." She looked at me. "Unlike the ICOA, The UNSDI operates under the assumption that everybody in the local community knows somethin' weird is up, but don't wanna talk about it. Givin' them a place to go to ask questions and get good information is better for keepin' things calm than tryin' to bury the truth."

  "In the event that you believe the mad scientist up the road has built an unholy monster," I said in my best radio announcer voice, "please go the nearest UNSDI office rather than collecting pitchforks, torches, and a mob."

  Jessie flashed me a small, genuine grin, the first I'd seen. It made her unusual eyes sparkle. "Exactly. Besides, sometimes 'community outreach' means givin' 'em the right kinda torches."

  Penny laughed softly, then I felt her stretch and pull away from where she'd been leaning against my back.

  "I do like that sound of that," Clark said quietly. "An ICOA rep visited me after your father died, Caley, and…" He shivered a little. "It was less of a conversation than a collection of veiled threats."

  "Sounds about right," Jessie and I said together. Our eyes met for a moment, and when I gave her a quick grin, she returned it with another of her small but very genuine smiles. Then her eyes drifted up and past me.

  Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  "I've said this before, but the more I learn about them," I said firmly, "the less I like the sound of them."

  "'Bout as trustworthy as a carpetbagger, the lot of 'em," Jessie agreed, still looking past me rather than at me. "There's probably some decent ones in the mix, but they sure as heck seem to be in the minority. My bosses at the UNSDI are big on community engagement, though. Can't properly work with a population 'less they trust you. We want to work closely with local law enforcement for the same reason. That and the fact that the British government don't want us goin' armed unless we're open about it with the police."

  "We do tend to frown on carrying firearms here," D.T.'s voice said from behind me.

  It startled me. Badly. I jerked around fast enough and hard enough that I almost spilled my lemonade, and nearly cracked my neck looking up at her.

  She was standing on the sidewalk behind me, dressed in her normal duty uniform and bent over so she could ruffle Penny's ears and fur. But she was looking directly at me. I thought - I hoped - that her expression was apologetic.

  I put my free hand to my chest and caught my breath. "Dejah Thoris Burroughs," I said sternly, "why are you sneaking up on me? And why did you let her?" I gave the Master Key a gentle little tap.

  Sparkle giggled audibly.

  D.T. straightened and held up her hands defensively. "I didn't mean to sneak up on anyone." She was smiling as she said it though. There'd been no real heat in my voice.

  "And I just thought it would be funny," Sparkle said.

  I rolled my eyes and turned to look at Jessie. "You see what I have to deal with?"

  "Intolerable," Jessie said dryly. Then she set her glass down behind her, rose and dusted off her skirt. She stepped around me and offered D.T. her hand. "I was hopin' to meet you. Think you and me have a lot to talk about before the UNSDI opens up a branch office here."

  I was on my feet in an instant, remembering my manners and recognizing in Jessie the Sidhe reluctance to introduce themselves. Which put it on me, as the nominal host. "Sergeant Dejah Thoris Burroughs, allow me to introduce Special Agent Katherine Jessica Rhodes of the United Nations Supernatural Defense Initiative."

  They shook hands. It didn't quite look like a test of wills, but I saw D.T.'s eyes widen a little and suspected there was some very manly hand-squeezing going on. Jessie looked petite and delicate compared to D.T., but appeared to be holding her own just fine against the taller and more strongly built woman.

  I rolled my eyes.

  "That's a mouthful," D.T. said. "And I'd appreciate it if you called me Sergeant or D.T.."

  "I'll answer to just 'bout anythin'," Jessie said, smiling a little, "but Jessie'll do t' be friendly."

  Their hands released, and they each took a half-step back.

  "British government was pretty clear they didn't want us operatin' without local law enforcement bein' kept in the loop," Jessie said politely. "Somethin' about us goin' armed."

  "That would make the government a little antsy," D.T. said with a little nod. "I take it there's a better reason for it than 'we're American?'"

  Jessie laughed. "Yeah. For starters, UNSDI's an international force, not American." Her expression became serious. "Mostly it's 'cause a lot of the things we have to deal with don't respond to anythin' less than deadly force. Or at least the threat of it."

  D.T. frowned a little, her eyes drifting back to me as she quietly said, "Like those rat things we dealt with the other night."

  I nodded.

  "I'd like t' hear about that, if'n you don't mind," Jessie said. "Might be I could offer some advice."

  "I think that," Clark said, rising and collecting our glasses, "is my cue to get back to work." He smiled and sketched a little bow to us. "Agent Rhodes, when you have time, stop by my office with that info package you were talking about, and I can show you the building I'm using now."

  "I'll swing 'round in a day or two," Jessie said with a nod. "And thanks."

  He saluted us with one of the glasses, then went back inside the social hall.

  I looked back and forth between my maybe-girlfriend and new maybe-friend from the UNSDI, sensing the tension between them and not understanding it. "Maybe the three of us should retire somewhere to have a long talk," I said carefully.

  "Someplace neutral," Jessie said, just as carefully.

  "How about the Oak & Ivy?" D.T. asked. "It's too early for dinner, but a long talk might take us into it, and it should be pretty empty this time of the day."

  "And the O'Days wouldn't say anything they overheard," I added, looking at Jessie. "Malcolm O'Day, who owns the Oak & Ivy pub, is a member of the town council and definitely clued in."

  "Useful, that," Jessie said with a nod. "All right. Ain't seen a real British pub yet."

  D.T. finally smiled a little. "I think you'll like it. Shall we?"

  It was a short walk to the pub, which turned out to be empty, as it was only closing on four in the afternoon.

  "The pub's all yours until at least half five," Malcolm said comfortably after I introduced Jessie. "I could even close up until then if you really want privacy."

  "Would you mind?" I asked. "I'll pay you for the time."

  Malcolm waved a dismissive hand. "Don't you even think of it. I'm happy to do it for you, Caley." He went to the door, locked it, and flipped the sign in the window to "Closed." He then turned and smiled. "I'll set you up at a table in the corner there, away from the windows," he nodded toward where the dart board hung. "That way your little friend can come out. And I'm sure the missus will have some treats for you. It's tea time, after all. Just give me a moment to get it squared away."

  In short order we were sitting at a small round table in the corner, as promised. There had been a brief bit of jockeying, resulting in Jessie and D.T. sitting with their backs to the walls, and me with my back to the room. Penny, still in her Husky form, made herself comfortable beside my chair, and Sparkle fluttered down to sit between my hands on the table.

  At least until Judy O'Day arrived with a serving tray. A proper tea service with three cups was placed on the table along with two plates of strawberry scones. As she set them down, she put the smaller plate - containing two of the cream-and-strawberry filled treats - off to one side. "Those are for you, little Sparkle, so that your companions can have some without worrying about their fingers."

  Sparkle giggled and tried to look offended, but failed horribly as she gave up and fell on the scones like a ravenous shark. D.T. had seen it before, of course, and so had Jessie, at least to judge from the amused look on her face.

  Penny also got her own plate of scones, which she - I'm sorry - wolfed down.

  I, meanwhile, busied myself making a proper show of pouring tea for Jessie, who'd never had good British tea before.

  Once we'd all had a few sips of tea - and Sparkle was sprawled on her empty plate, replete - I looked at my companions. "Jessie, you should know that I told D.T. about my meeting with you a few days ago."

  "So ya know why I'm makin' contact with Caley," Jessie said to D.T., who nodded.

  "I know why you say you are," D.T. replied warily. "I just don't know how well to trust that yet."

  Jessie smiled thinly. "I can appreciate that. For what it's worth, I'm not in the habit o' lyin'. Ain't worth the trouble around the Sidhe…they take bein' lied to real personal-like, and it can get ya in heaps o' trouble. And I trust my bosses t' not be lyin' to me. They've treated me right for the last few years, and I've seen 'em treat others the same."

  "But your organization still responds to threats with violence," D.T. said. "You don't de-escalate."

  Jessie tipped her head. "Now where'd you get that idea from?"

  "The fact that you were talking about carrying a firearm everywhere," D.T. replied. "You talk a good line about community engagement and needing the population to trust you, but you go armed. Doesn't that break down trust?"

  "Naw," Jessie drawled, her accent getting thicker again. "Carryin' weapons don't break down trust. It's usin' weapons 'gainst people that don't deserve it that does that. Police'd know somethin' about that."

  "Not here in England," D.T. said firmly.

  "Pull the other one," Jessie said, "it's got bells on."

  "Pratchett?" I asked, amused.

  Jessie shrugged. "Everybody loves Pratchett."

  "Okay, fine," D.T. said, "I'm exaggerating a little. But I think you've gotten a bad opinion of police growing up in America. Here in England, you can count the instances of police violence in the last decade on one hand."

  "The ones that've been made public, anyway," Jessie said. "And I didn't grow up in America, leastways not past my sixth birthday. But I did grow up with the myth of America. My granny, for all she was Sidhe, was as close to bein' a spirit of anarchy as the Sidhe can muster. She loved the myth of America and its freedom…but she also tried to make sure I understood the reality of it."

  She paused for a moment, then snorted a laugh. "Ya know, as filtered through media. She loved old Westerns, like Gunsmoke and the like. Eastwood's spaghetti Westerns. Just about went mad for Tombstone. We musta watched that a dozen times at least. But she also had me watch stuff like Hill Street Blues and NYPD Blue, so I knew comin' home that there's good and bad folks among the police. But that corruption's a real serious thing for 'em."

  D.T. was silent for a moment, then sighed. "And I'm sure that there's corruption here too. It's like that in any government-funded organization, isn't it? But the British police force is at least trying to curb the worst impulses of its worst people, and it doesn't do things like moving a corrupt cop from one local force to another to cover up what they did. And we've run far afield."

  "So we have," Jessie agreed, but she seemed more relaxed now. "But I'm for thinkin' we understand one another a bit better now."

  D.T. smiled slowly. "Yeah, I think we do. You really trust your employers at the UNSDI to treat Caley and this town right?"

  "Wouldn't be with 'em still if I didn't," Jessie said. "I appreciate what they've done for me, helpin' me back into the world, but they don't own me. I'm an employee…if I weren't happy with what I've seen, I'd be sellin' my services elsewhere. What about you? You happy with your bosses?"

  D.T. sat back in her chair, her hands wrapped around her teacup. "I'd be lying if I said yes," she admitted after a moment's thought. "I mean, they stuck me out here in Oakwood originally to cool my heels and think about my future, because I was considering leaving the force. I felt like…what little difference the police were making wasn't enough, somehow. I spent my nights pulling in drunks and my days giving directions to lost tourists.

  "But then I met Caley and started learning about her world that I decided I could really make a difference here," she continued. "And discovered that small town policing suits me better. Out here, I really can help people. Maybe it's not world-changing, dramatic help, but it's work that makes me feel like I'm part of the community, instead of just a loose cog in a machine."

  I was smiling at her by the time she finished. But I also saw something uncertain and uneasy lurking in her expression, and after a moment she added, "At least, I did until my Superintendent had a quiet word with me about Oakwood Hall and Caley." She looked at me, then back to Jessie. "They didn't know her specifically by name, but I guess they had a working relationship with her father for a while, and her grandmother back in the day."

  "And wanted it again," Jessie surmised.

  D.T. nodded. "I feel a bit weird about it, but I understand it, too. I mean, the police do not have the kind of resources needed to deal with the sort of thing Caley and I dealt with a few nights ago."

  I had, of course, heard this before. D.T. and I had talked about it after it happened, and I was not at all bothered by it. Honestly, the idea that the British police force was aware of the supernatural and might want my help with it was something of a relief. It felt like I had a bit of friendly backup.

  What I hadn't realized was that she was bothered by it. Shame on me for not noticing. But then, most of the time we'd spent together since April had been early morning jogging and Thursday nights at the pub. Not exactly conducive to conversation.

  "Why didn't you say something?" I asked.

  D.T. shrugged a little. "You didn't seem to mind. It made me feel a bit guilty about being bothered by it."

  "But you feel used," I said quietly, feeling a bit guilty myself. D.T. had been my foot in the door with the police, and it hadn't even occurred to me that she might be uncomfortable with that. "Oh, D.T., I'm so sorry…"

  She waved it off. "I get it, Caley. It makes sense for us to work together, and it makes sense for you to work together with the police."

  I pursed my lips, and decided to let it go for now, at least as long as Jessie was here. But this was, I now saw, something D.T. and I needed to talk about.

  "Tell me about whatever it is that happened the other night," Jessie said.

  Tales of Oakwood Hall book. I just need to think of the right story to tell about her. It will definitely involve some revelations about her past, regardless of what the main plot ends up being.

  The Oakwood Hall Bestiary (which, if I write enough entries, might get published as its own book, I think that'd be fun), about brownies. Fae brownies, not the cake-like treat. Just to be clear. And sometime this week or next I'll be posting another of my old short stories there for Inner Circle subscribers...one in which early echoes of the building that became Oakwood Hall itself might be glimpsed.