Pinewood Corner Kitchen Chapter 6
The Chapmans’ house was only a block away from their professional headquarters. Like Pinewood Corner Kitchen, their actual home was old, welcoming, and very, very wealthy. Or, at least it came across as welcoming. The Chapmans themselves were anything but when Gabriella and Graham arrived the next morning to cleanse and put up sensors.
“These read different types of energy and how much of it is in a particular place,” Graham explained as Gabriella peeled the adhesive on the back of the sensor and stuck it to their kitchen wall. “We’ll do these over at your headquarters as well.”
Gabriella started toward the pantry and Jan followed. “And you promise, under threat of lawsuits like you’ve never seen before, that there are no cameras?” Jan asked sternly. “There’s no pervert on the other end of the line, looking through it right now and waiting?”
Gabriella stopped mid-movement toward placing the next sensor and turned around. “Ma’am,” she started as Graham hurried toward them. “If you don’t want our help, you are not required to take it.”
“I need to know that we’re not being spied on in our home,” Jan said. “I don’t think that’s too much to ask.”
“As I told you before,” Gabriella said, hoping Graham would jump in soon, “these are sensors.” She held up the sensor so that Jan could see it. “You said you don’t want cameras, so we won’t put up cameras. And the only person on the end of any line right now is our captain, who I was very clear would be on comms with us the whole time before we even entered your home.”
She tapped on the comms unit strapped to her chest. “So do you want these sensors or not?” she asked. “I get paid the same either way.”
Where the hell had all of that come from? Gabriella would have never spoken to anyone like that even six months ago. Jan looked taken aback, like no one had ever spoken to her like that before. Maybe no one ever had. Graham looked either irritated or embarrassed, Gabriella wasn’t sure. Both, maybe. And now she was frustrated because he hadn’t said anything, even though what Jan said was obviously insulting to all of them.
“Put the sensors up,” Jan finally relented.
Gabriella put the sensor on the wall outside the pantry door. She then opened the door and stepped in, surrounded on all sides by high shelves she’d be tempted to snoop through if her hands weren’t shaking and embarrassing tears weren’t blurring her eyes. But at least she was out of that room for the briefest second. “Gabs,” James said through the comms.
“I know,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you okay?”
She’d dealt with frustrating clients before, many, many times. And she’d managed not to lose her cool. That glance at the calendar this morning, the reminder that it had been two years since she’d been too pliable, too willing to go along with someone more powerful than her, maybe that was what had pushed that out. Maybe she’d gone too far in the other direction.
“I’m fine,” she said. “It won’t happen again.”
“It’s okay,” James said, and that, at least, was a relief. She didn’t want to make things more difficult for him because she was losing her temper.
Graham came into the room. “I’ve got sensors up through the kitchen,” he said. “And into the front hall.”
“Great,” she said, slapping a sensor onto the whitewashed pantry wall with a bit too much force. “I’m finished here.”
“Jan wants to go with us when we put them upstairs.”
“Yeah.”
“I can finish this if you-”
“No, I’m fine.”
She could see the strain on his face in the dim light and let some of her irritation go. He was as stressed as she was lately. “We need to do their other building while we’re here,” Gabriella said. “So we should see where they’d rather do the interview.”
“I can do that.”
They left the pantry and moved into the slightly overheated sunroom just off of the kitchen. It was beautiful. The whole house was. It was essentially what she wanted someday, packed with books and art and plants and all kinds of gorgeous, comfortable furnishings. As much as she hated herself a little for it, she was getting inspiration from them as she moved through the rooms.
They went upstairs and worked silently, putting sensors into each room on the second floor. Again, Jan expressed concern about cameras, though in this case she was more upset at the idea of them in her office than in her bedroom, which surprised Gabriella after her pervert comment. Then, when they got to their headquarters a block away, she and Steve stayed close as Graham and Gabriella put up their remaining sensors throughout that building as well.
“I don’t think I need to remind you,” Steve started as they put the last one in place, “we see any sign that you’ve stolen our intellectual property or accessed anything other than these energy readings, we will sue the Foundation and you personally for-”
“That’s enough,” James said through the comms.
Both Chapmans jumped, not that they should have been surprised since Gabriella had reiterated the fact that he was on the line, could hear everything, and would be there for the entirety of the visit when they’d arrived at Pinewood Corner Kitchen.
“We’ve discussed the rules, we’ve discussed your needs, and my agents have been forthcoming with all information,” James said, his voice slightly crackly. “If you have complaints or concerns, bring them to me, not them.”
Gabriella tried to focus on her relief at him stepping in, not the wispy memory of Amelia saying similar words months ago as Gabriella held her screaming cousin. “No one is stealing your property or spying on you,” James continued, his voice stern. “And if you continue to harass my agents like this, we will have to reconsider the Foundation’s role here. Understood?”
And if they pulled out of a job with people as wealthy as the Chapmans, who were likely paying the Foundation good money, James would hear about it. But any concerns about that disappeared as both Chapmans nodded. “Understood,” Steve said smoothly.
“Thank you.”
There was a distinct lack of an apology there, but Gabriella wasn’t going to hope for miracles. Now that they had finished putting up the sensors, it was time to do the interview. And then she could leave.
“Alright,” Graham said. “Tell us when these problems began.”
“Two years ago,” Jan said with a glance at Steve. “After our first interaction with Casey Romano on our website.”
“Immediately after?”
“Well, not immediately,” Steve said. “I’d say a month or two later?”
“And what about these problems connects them with Mr. Romano?”
The Chapmans exchanged a small, smug smile. “He hates us,” Jan said, adjusting her glasses, which were red today. “I don’t know if it’s jealousy over our success and his lack thereof, or something deeper. But the man hates us. And while we’ve had business rivals and things like that in the past, it’s nothing compared to this. And he has the means to do it. So there’s your motive and means right there.”
Gabriella considered reminding her they weren’t cops, then didn’t bother. “And did you confront him?”
“Of course not,” Jan said. “The man’s dangerous. He could burn our house down with a thought if he wanted to.”
Gabriella thought back to the way he’d looked like he might pass out at his truck yesterday. Was it an act? Something to throw her off the scent? It seemed unlikely, but maybe.
“How did you find out about his abilities?” she asked.
“He’s dangerous,” Steve insisted, ignoring her question. “You need to stop him.”
The interview continued for another thirty minutes, with the Chapmans adamantly refusing to give any other possible explanations for the psychic attacks against them and their home and office. When they left, Gabriella was so relieved to get out that she didn’t care that it was pouring rain.
“Gabriella,” Graham said once they were out of the densely forested neighborhood and slowly making their way through the traffic in Holden’s cute little downtown.
“Hmm?”
“Would you rather I handle communications with them?”
Gabriella turned to Graham, her mouth half open to ask for clarification before she jumped to any conclusions. “They’re difficult people,” he said quickly, likely accurately reading her feelings on her face. “I totally get that. But they’re not bad people and they need us, even if they’re not going to admit it. So we need to be able to handle that.”
“Please tell me you’re not lecturing me right now.”
“No, I’m not,” he said. “I’m sorry. I just mean, if you don’t want to deal with them personally, I can do it.”
She relented with a sigh as she finally made the left-hand turn she’d been waiting to take as cars flowed past them. “No, but thank you,” she said. “If we’re going to get this done, I need to be in contact with them too. I’m not going to tolerate being insulted, but I’m not going to start anything, alright?”
She didn’t have to look over to see that Graham wasn’t fully satisfied with that answer. “I’ll meet with James when we get back and update him on what’s going on,” Gabriella said. “And see what he thinks about this whole Casey Romano thing.”
“You don’t think it’s him?” Graham asked.
“No,” she said. “And not because I’m being contrary.”
“I didn’t think you were.”
“He demonstrated his ability yesterday. I mean, one of them. He said he’s got others, like spirit communication. But the physical act? I thought he was going to pass out afterward. And if it was good acting, then it was really good acting because his face was ghost white, he was sweating, and I honestly was concerned to leave him alone immediately after, you know?”
“I do,” Graham said. “Maybe I can talk to them again and get them to think a little more broadly. See if there’s anything they might not have thought of because they’re so focused on him.”
“They do like you better,” she admitted. “That might work.”
They were quiet for a few minutes as she got them out of town. “Are we good?” Graham asked.
“Yeah,” Gabriella said honestly. “I think we just have different approaches here. I don’t know, maybe I’ve lost my ability to keep my mouth shut when I should.”
He moved to disagree with her, but she waved him off. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. We’re going to pass the good Dunkin Donuts on the way home, want to stop?”
***
When Gabriella and Graham got back with a tray of coffees and a box of donuts, James, Bradley, and Madelyn were in the living room. Gabriella noticed the way that Graham set everyone’s usual coffees in front of them without any fanfare, as though assuming James would drink his, but not drawing attention to it. James thanked him politely, but didn’t move to pick up the cup. Which was exactly what Gabriella expected and knew that Graham did too.
Graham and Gabriella both wrote up quick reports, then Graham and Madelyn left to investigate an issue at a nearby art museum. Gabriella hid her jealousy as she continued to work on the Chapman case.
“What are your thoughts?” James asked her as they sat on the couch a little later.
It was warm in here. Even with the windows open and some fans going, it was still enough that Gabriella was down to a t-shirt and Bradley was wearing a short-sleeved blue work shirt instead of his usual button down. James, however, was wearing a turtleneck, something she knew he hated but had gotten into the habit of wearing frequently since he’d been back. He had to be overheating in it, but there was no way he was going to take it well if she brought it up. So Gabriella kept her mouth shut on that topic.
“I think I’m so sick of wealthy, entitled clients that I could puke,” she said instead.
“Yeah, I figured that out pretty fast,” James said. “‘I get paid the same anyway’?”
“Sorry,” she said. “Maybe I was a little on edge. I shouldn’t have said that.”
He shrugged and she was a little surprised by it. “That is true though. Maybe I should’ve stepped in earlier.”
“I had it under control,” she said, watching Fang as she strolled into the room. “Just when she made that comment about having some pervert watching, I was like, do you actually want our help?”
“Yeah, the only pervert we have watching is Bradley and he’s got other things to do. He can’t just spy on them all the time, he’s a busy man.”
James winked at Bradley, who shot him a withering look before returning to his conversation with Madelyn and Graham over comms.
“So they’re adamant it’s this guy,” James said as Fang leapt into his lap.
“They are,” she agreed. “But I just don’t see it. Especially after talking to him yesterday. I think they’re so fixated on hating this guy that they’re missing something, maybe something obvious. Graham is going to talk to them again because they like him more.”
James gave her a look. “Gabs.”
“No, I’m serious,” she said. “We talked it over in the car.”
“Okay.”
He tugged slightly on the neck of his shirt and she pretended not to notice. Fang purred in his lap. Back when he’d been compromised, the cat had been terrified of him. Now she took every opportunity to curl up in his lap, as though sharing their relief. Who knew? Maybe she did.
“I don’t know a ton about psychic phenomena,” he admitted. “What are your initial thoughts beyond that?”
“I need to do research,” Gabriella said. “Like, a lot of research. In a lot of different directions. So I can do that while Graham talks to them again. I want to start with the Chapmans personally, as well as Casey Romano, then move on to general psychic phenomena. If there’s someone else going after them, it’s someone powerful who knows their routine because everything has occurred when they’re there. It’s not like they came home to a broken water heater, right? So I need to know who they’re not thinking of because they’re so fixated on this other guy.”
“I hate to bring it up,” Bradley said, and she realized he was speaking to her, not to Madelyn. “But it could be a conjurer.”
“Fuck,” she muttered.
“I haven’t heard anything about Polly Grace lately,” James said.
Polly Grace was a sorcerer for hire that Gabriella had thankfully only encountered in person once. Or, at least as in-person as she got. But she was powerful. And ruthless. And the last thing Gabriella wanted was to deal with her again.
“They’re not dead though,” Bradley said. “If someone wanted them dead and hired her, they’d be fucking dead.”
“But they don’t always want that,” James pointed out. “Sometimes it’s fear.”
Like when their nieces were terrorized by her last fall. “I’ll keep that in mind,” Gabriella said. “I can see if the Foundation has heard anything from her.”
Considering she’d been written up while researching at the Foundation, it was unlikely anyone there who wasn’t McGovern would be willing to give her the time of day. But she could try. And pray it wasn’t Polly Grace they were after.
