He just shook his head and held the door open for me to enter.
It was like walking into a time capsule of a young woman’s life. Sol had been born in the sixties maybe, at least from what I could tell about the décor, and the clothing left in the closet.
“I should clean this all out,” he mused.
Since he wasn’t looking for a confirmation either way, I wandered her space. Sometimes, I could get a feel for people if I inhabited their favorite places long enough. But Sol had been missing so long there was nothing left of her here.
A second desk sat against the wall, neatly lined with tiny boxes of gears and parts, fittings, and metalworking equipment.
“What’s this?” I asked.
He crossed the room and studied the desk. I wouldn’t have noticed before, but for some reason, I could see the pain etched in the lines around his mouth, the way his shoulders hunched forward trying to ward off any physical attack.
“Sol enjoyed rebuilding antique clocks and watches. She built most of the clocks in the house.”
I stared around her room to find small gears and parts spread out amongst her belongings. Not too obvious, but obvious enough to know this was something important to her, something she would carry into adulthood.
Wait. In the forest, when she couldn’t speak to me, she mouthed something that I thought sounded like, watch. At the time, I wasn’t able to discern if she had meant to look at something or a physical watch.
Maybe I had my answer.
I let Fin continue his study of the desk while I did another turn around the room. “She was younger than I thought. Or maybe older, I don’t know. Now I’m wondering when you were born and what your room looked like from that era.”
His lips twitched as he turned back to me, but he said nothing. I’d peg him as older than my original estimate if he wasn’t crowing about it.
I opened her bedside drawer and rifled through her things. A few letters, a notebook, some postcards. Nothing that would help me find the woman she was now. Nor the woman Esteban likely formed her into over years of abuse.
“Did she have any boyfriends at the time of her disappearance?” I asked.
“Not that I recall. Dating back then was different, especially for fae. We needed to hide what we were, and that’s impossible during intimacy.”
“How so?”
A flash of pink went up his neck and I stepped forward.
“Are you blushing right now?”
He cleared his throat and went out into the hall. I followed, which allowed him to close and lock the door. We walked along the hallway, and I waited. No way I would miss his answer to this.
Once we returned to his office and he shut the door behind us, he picked back up the conversation. “When fae are intimate, they sort of meld with their partner mentally. There are no secrets between then. It’s personal, sacred, which is why many fae don’t take casual lovers.”
“Okay, so she wasn’t intimate, but did she have anyone close in her life?”
He thought about
it and nodded. “His name was Jeffrey. I’m pretty sure he was a human, but I can’t recall off the top of my head.”
I smiled. “Then our first stop is to go see old Jeff.”
Chapter Twelve
Turned out, according to the captain, Jeff died a few years ago. He was married to the same woman for forty of those years and was disgustingly, boringly human. We didn’t even have to leave the house to find out all that excellent news.
So, Fin and I ended up back in his study staring at each other. Me trying to pry out more details regarding his sister; him answering in vague non-committal sentences.
“I was a long time ago,” he said, standing to spin away from me and face the wall. “Before you were born even.”
“Yes, I get it,” I said. “You guys are old. I’m an infant. I’m still the most qualified to help.”