Wanting to think about something else, he focused on the sock and cocked a thumb in its direction. “The Crow did a better job.”

Julian made a hand gesture that expressed his opinion quite clearly, then said, “Did you bring anything good for lunch?”

“I did.” He fetched the covered plates and placed them on the two narrow strips of table that weren’t covered by the game. He concentrated on eating for several minutes, glad to have the silence. As they finished the meal, he asked, “You still coming out for the trail ride and beach thing tomorrow?”

Julian nodded. “I did the trail ride wine tour when I first came to Sproing. It was . . . interesting.”

“I’ll bet.”

Grimshaw collected the dishes and put them back in the carry bag. “I’ll walk these over to the diner. See you tomorrow.”

As he turned to go, Julian said, “Wayne? I think you still have a piece from the game.”

“Yes, I do. I’m going to keep it for a while.” He walked out, too aware of the teeny businessman in his pocket.

CHAPTER 40

Vicki

Thaisday, Juin 29

The morning of the trail ride beach party, I walked out of the laundry room and found a pony in the kitchen. To be precise, I found a pony with his head in the fridge, rummaging around. I wasn’t sure if he was really looking for something or just enjoying the cold air that was wafting out of the fridge, but I realized the tried-and-true phrase “Were you born in a barn?” wasn’t going to convey what I wanted it to convey.

I hurried around the table, giving myself plenty of distance from his back end, then skidded a little on some water. Gods, I hadn’t been out of the kitchen long enough for the fridge to start defrosting from the heat, but where else could the water have come from?

Looking at the pony’s tail, I chose not to contemplate the alternate answer to that question.

“Hey,” I said sharply.

The pony pulled his head out of the fridge, a bunch of carrots dangling from his mouth.

He was a small white pony with a barrel-shaped body and chubby legs, and clompy hooves the size of dinner plates. Okay, they weren’t that big, but I was wearing sandals and felt a little nervous about anyone who could stomp on my toes, intentionally or otherwise. Once I got over the surprise of finding a pony in the kitchen and stopped wondering if Hector or Horace had brought him over early for some reason, I started to wonder about the color of the pony’s mane and tail. They were aquamarine, a lovely shade of greenish blue, with streaks of stormy gray. I wanted to believe there was some colored glass in the kitchen somewhere that was coloring those bits of him, but I knew there wasn’t any colored glass. Maybe someone dyed the mane and tail? Not likely.

Which meant that whatever he was, he wasn’t quite what he seemed. Which meant I should do the neighborly thing and let him have a carrot.

“I’ll take those.” I reached for the bunch of carrots. The open fridge door blocked him on one side and the kitchen table created a barrier behind him. Short of running me down to make his escape, there was nowhere for the carrot thief to go.

My hand closed on the carrots. His ears went straight out from his head, like little handlebars. I had a momentary crazy thought of grabbing the ears and saying vroom-vroom, but he still had clompy feet and I was still wearing sandals. After a brief tug-and-pull, I ended up with the carrots and he ended up with the green bits—which he dropped on the floor before following me to the counter beside the sink.

I washed one carrot and prepped it as if he were a human guest. As I cut up the carrot, I said casually, “I don’t know if your person lets you have carrots.”

Vigorous head bobbing, as if to say of course he was allowed to have carrots.

“You might be allergic to them.”

Equally vigorous head shakes. Or maybe he was fluffing his mane as a prelude to flirting with me.

I fed him one of the carrot chunks and said, “Let’s go outside.”

I shut the fridge door, thinking hard as the pony and I walked out. I had a hand towel attached to the fridge’s handle, so he could have pulled on that to open the door. And the screen door into the kitchen had a handle, so he could have pushed it down and then pulled on it to open that door. But the porch’s screen door had a different kind of lock and latch, and there was no way a pony could get that one open.

“Caw!”

Unless he had an accomplice.

I studied the crow—or Crow—happily splashing in the birdbath. Could have been Aggie; I didn’t see her in her Crow form often enough to be sure I could identify her in a lineup. Didn’t matter. The pony had wanted to come in and someone had helped him. Why? No idea. Okay, I had an idea about why he had wanted to come in, but how would he have known about the carrots?

I also didn’t know why a strip of the porch floor was wet, just like the floor from the kitchen door to the fridge was wet.

Every few yards I stopped and fed the pony another chunk of carrot. We continued that way until we arrived at the beach. Feeding him the last bit of carrot, I slipped off my sandals and dashed across the already hot sand to the water, intending to stand in the shallows for a few minutes before going back to wipe up the kitchen floor and get on with preparations for my part of this party.

The pony followed me into the water, and we both stood knee-deep in water that was refreshingly cool. Then the water began swirling around me, like a friendly animal circling my legs. There was no natural reason for it to do that all of a sudden, and the motion was causing the sand to shift under my feet.

Before I could become more than mildly alarmed, the Lady of the Lake rose out of the water to my left and said, “You shouldn’t tease Miss Vicki after she gave you a carrot.”

The swirling stopped. I looked to my right. The pony had disappeared.

“He’s curious,” she said, “but he won’t hurt you.”

I heard the slight emphasis on “you.” “I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to tell you that Ineke and I are hosting a beach party this afternoon, so there will be a few humans who will be swimming and using the beach. Maybe even taking a walk farther up the beach.”

“These are friends?”

“Well, this group of people are friends. If this party is a success, Ineke and I will offer more trail ride beach parties to her paying guests and mine.”

“Why offer parties to humans who are not friends?”

“They will be guests—humans who pay to stay in the cabins for a few days and spend time swimming in the lake.”

“This is important, having humans who pay?”

“The money I earn from renting out the cabins will help me take care of The Jumble.” And provide me with food and clothes and other essentials, but I figured The Jumble would be of more interest to her.

After a moment’s consideration, she nodded. “I will tell the others. They may want to observe, but I will tell them to keep their distance from your guests.”

Who wanted to observe?

“What happened to the pony?”

She laughed. “Whirlpool? He’s around.”

She sank into the water until only a vaguely human head and chest showed. Then she leaped high, her human-shaped torso becoming a column of water below the hips—becoming an arching prism of colors as she dove back into the lake.

I waited a minute, then headed back to the house.

Whirlpool. Really? I thought about the water swirling around my legs and decided it was better to think of something else before a party that had swimming as part of the activities. Like, who were the others who wanted to observe us? And why would the Lady tell them to keep their distance?

“Miss Vicki!”

I stopped and waited for Aggie, who came running up the path from the lakeside cabins to the main house.

“Did you let the pony into the house?” I asked when she reached me.

“Can I help you with your party? I’ve never been to a human party and—” Aggie stopped. Stared at me. “Pony?” She looked toward the lake, then focused on me again. “Pony?” She leaned toward me and whispered loudly, “One of them?”

Not knowing who they were, I couldn’t answer that. “Maybe. His name is Whirlpool.”