Page 21 of Save a Wish

I let him grab the handles of each case. “Be careful. They’re fragile.” I didn’t have the money to buy a new set and it was unlikely I would have the good fortune of finding a used set again.

“Got it.” He angled his head toward his house. “This way.”

Hefting the tote bag, I followed him, not sure what his no-nonsense tone meant. Was he eager to get this over with? Was he just focused on the business we were here to conduct? Did he regret agreeing to a sound bath in exchange for his skills?

Was he nervous?

My own hands were a little sweaty and I wiped them on the long cream sweater I wore over my burgundy leggings and matching T-shirt.

A rumbling sounded on the other side of a grove of trees and I hurried to catch up to Beckett.

“That’s Jimmy Slater’s truck.” Beckett set one of the singing bowls cases down in front of his front door.

“I know.” I peeked over my shoulder, but I didn’t see his actual truck, which was good. “I think he followed me here.”

Beckett let out a little chuckle. “Nah. Jimmy’s here quite a bit.” He opened his door and motioned for me to enter. “He’s dating my mom.”

I paused right in front of Beckett. “You’re mom is dating a . . . a . . .”

“Possible serial killer?”

I nodded.

“I see that rumor reached you, huh?” Beckett took a step deeper into the house so we were no longer both in the doorway together. He set the singing bowls down on the tiled floor then closed his front door. “From what we’ve seen since Jimmy and our mom have gotten involved, the man either has given up on being a serial killer, was never a serial killer, or is patiently waiting for us all to become so comfortable with him that we won’t see him coming when he finally decides to kill us all.” Beckett widened his eyes as if in horror, but then his lips tilted up in a smile to illustrate he was joking.

“I helped him with loading hay into his truck and he seemed nice,” I said. “But then I got anxious when I thought he was following me here.”

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” Beckett said. “Besides, weren’t you able to read his aura?”

I clasped my hands in front of me. “I see you haven’t forgotten my assessment of your aura, have you?”

Becket shrugged, suggesting he didn’t care about his aura either way, but I saw through that.

“Let’s get right to the sound bath.” I headed for the cases. “That way you’ll be all refreshed for when we talk business.”

“Fine.” Beckett waved a hand toward a living room filled with black leather couches and wooden tables with rich, dark stain. A simply obscene-sized television was mounted on a wall above a glass-enclosed fireplace that had logs arranged in it. As I studied the details, a fire flared to life behind the glass, making me jump a bit.

“What magic is this?” I asked as I slowly approached the fireplace.

“Gas insert.” Beckett wiggled his phone. “I can control it from here.”

“Oh.” I’d watched Fionn build a fire in the palace hearths on many occasions. He didn’t fancy the chore. He’d love to be able to tap a screen and have the fires ignite themselves.

Not that my parents would approve of such technology in their palace. Too modern for Verdalach.

“Is there enough room in here for you set up in front of the fireplace?” Beckett asked.

I eyed the stretch of space between the fireplace and a wooden table in front of the couch then scanned the entire room. Rather cavernous, it didn’t exactly exude coziness, but I wasn’t about to get picky. I had the sense Beckett was only one step away from telling me to forget our deal. He’d agreed in the store with his sister pressuring him, but perhaps actually having me here now was making him change his mind.

“This space will do nicely.” I offered him what I hoped would be interpreted as a friendly smile then proceeded deeper into the room. “I need a few minutes to set up the singing bowls.”

“Okay. Do you want something to drink?” Beckett asked.

“A water would be lovely.”

Nodding, Beckett walked off and I set to work on laying out a semi-circular rug in front of the fireplace and unpacking the singing bowls. I carefully arranged them in an arc with a spot for me to sit among them and pulled out a pair of mallets for striking the bowls.

Beckett returned with a bottle of water which he held out to me. “Here you go.”