Free Whispers of Fate: The Mistresses of Fate, Book Two by Deirdre Dore

the kitchen.
    “Is she gone?”
    “Yes,” Tavey assured him.
    “This is good.” He grabbed an oven mitt. “She is very grim. Is she always like this?”
    Tavey thought about it, but she didn’t believe in gossiping about one member of her staff to another, especially her friend’s mother. “She’s had a difficult life, Thomas. Try to be kind.”
    He waved that off, examining his quiches with the intensity of an artist. “Of course I don’t care. Are you hungry?”
    Tavey’s normal response would have been no—she usually drank a protein shake for breakfast, but the quiches smelled wonderful.
    She nodded. “Yes, I’ll have breakfast. Just let me get dressed and take care of the dogs. Fifteen minutes.”
    “Oui,” he agreed, waving her off.
    Amused, Tavey carried her coffee back into the bedroom, whistling for her beagles to come. They ran back inside, their tails wagging in anticipation of breakfast.
    She set her coffee on her dresser and led them back down the hall to what she called the dog room. It had been a pantry, but she’d put in a doggie shower, several dog beds, and a feeding area. A small door controlled by their collars had also been installed to allow them outside into a small enclosure when necessary.
    “Okay, babies.” She glanced down and noticed that Boomer was chewing enthusiastically on something.
    When she bent down and got a closer look, she paused, her hand beginning to tremble. It was a hair ribbon, so stained with dirt that it was nearly brown, but the original colors showed through in places, red with a white stripe down the center. Though covered in a healthy amount of dog slobber, she recognized the pattern. The last time she’d seen a ribbon like this one, Summer had been wearing it tied to one of her braids.
    Tavey felt horror rise from deep within her, her fist clenching around a wad of paper towels. The beagles, sensing her disquiet, shifted restlessly. Lizzie whined.
    “It’s okay,” Tavey murmured automatically, but without conviction. The beagles hadn’t been off the property since last Sunday, when they’d ventured into the woods near Abraham’s house, but she thought she would have noticed if Boomer had been holding something in his mouth.
    She hesitated to touch it, thinking about evidence collection, but she doubted there was much harm in picking it up at this point. She wanted to snatch it and go straight to Abraham’s house and ask him if he recognized it, if he’d seen anything like it. Part of her wanted to demand he tell her where her friend was buried.
    A lifetime of working with the police stopped her, however. Instead, she urged her beagles from the room and ran down the hall to get her phone.
    She snatched it off her dresser and dialed Raquel, who just happened to be a cop with the Atlanta Police Department.
    “Raquel, forget about church, you have to come here,” she ordered when her friend drawled a hello.
    “All right,” Raquel agreed immediately. “What’s up? Is someone hurt?”
    Tavey shook her head, pacing the room in her agitation. Her beagles, uncertain why they weren’t being fed, followed her, their brown eyes concerned.
    “No one’s hurt. I’ve found something.”
    “Okay.” Raquel’s smooth voice was calm and businesslike. “I’m calling Chris. Should I call Tyler as well?”
    “No, not yet.” Tavey sighed. “I want to know what you think first. Maybe I’m crazy.”
    Raquel didn’t argue, but she didn’t agree either. “Okay, honey, we’ll be right there.”
    “Good. Sorry. I’m a little rattled.” Tavey realized she sounded out of control. “I think I’ve found something of Summer’s.”
    “What?”
    “One of her hair ribbons, the red one with the white stripe.”
    “Well—”
    “She was wearing it when she went missing.”
    Raquel paused, her voice calm and steady. “We’ll be there soon, Tavey, but let’s not spiral out of control here. . . . I don’t think we can be sure it’s the same ribbon