Free Chase Tinker & The House of Magic by Malia Ann Haberman Page A

out about his dad any time soon. Without
a word, he turned and left the room. He'd have to deal with it
later. And, it was hard to stay mad at her when obviously she'd
been through some sort of traumatic experience.
    He wandered back to the study. The rain had
stopped. In fact, the low evening sun now peeked through the
clouds. It was hard to believe it was the same day, so much had
happened already. Dinnertime had come and gone, but at the moment
he didn't feel hungry. His stomach felt as though seagulls were
dive-bombing for fish in it.
    The French doors still hung wide open, making
it easy to see the island next to theirs in the distance. Walking
out onto the slippery deck, he leaned against the railing and
stared down at the rain-soaked beach as he ran through his mind
everything Clair had been mumbling. He had so many questions. Who
was looking for her? What did she need help with? And what had
happened that was her fault?
    "Is that a boat down there?"
    Chase jumped about a foot into the air. He'd
been so lost in thought, he hadn't heard Andy and Persephone
walking up behind him.
    "Where?"
    Persephone pointed to the far side of the
beach. "Over there." Way down the beach a motorboat sat on the
sandy shore. Waves lapped at the back of it as if trying to coax
the boat back into the sea. "It's not ours so I wonder who it
belongs to."
    Chase squinted at it. It looked as if
something big and dark was huddled in the bottom. "Dad?" He
sprinted across the deck and down the stairs.
    "Chase! Wait up!" yelled Persephone.
    He didn't want to stop. He had to get to his
dad. Rushing down the grassy hill, he leaped onto the beach and ran
along the water's edge. Gritty, wet sand flew behind him with each
long stride. Gasping for breath, he skidded to a stop next to the
motorboat.
    When Persephone arrived a moment later, she
found Chase slouched in the boat, clutching a large, black
coat.
    "It's not him," he said, his voice sounding
flat and hollow, even to his own ears. "I was so sure when I saw
this." He wanted so much to look into his dad's eyes again and tell
him how much he'd missed him.
    Andy ran up and bent over to catch his
breath. "What is it, Chase?"
    He tossed the soaked jacket onto the sand.
"Just this ugly old coat."
    Persephone reached down and grabbed it.
Perching herself on a huge chunk of grayish-white driftwood, she
dug through the pockets. She pulled out a few pieces of colorful
paper. "Looks like British money." Laying the notes aside, she
searched another pocket. This time she found a plastic card. "And a
driver's license."
    "Let me see," said Chase. She handed it to
him.
    "It's Dad!" yelled Andy.
    "What's it doing here?" Chase stared at the
picture and the name on the card. Benjamin Thomas Tinker.
    "This must be his overcoat," said Persephone.
"It looks like a man's."
    Chase looked up as she held the coat in front
of her. Their eyes met. Chase realized for the first time that
Persephone's eyes were an unusually vivid shade of green. Feeling
his face burning, he looked away. "Do you, um, think this means he
was in England at some point?"
    "I don't know," she answered. "It sure is
turning into a huge mystery." She unzipped an inside pocket. "Wait,
I found something else. It's a passport." Opening the small blue
book, she thumbed through it. "It's Clair's."
    She handed the book to Chase. He stared at
Clair's picture, frowning.
    Andy picked up a stick and scribbled
absentmindedly in the wet sand. "Even with all this, we still don't
know much of anything," he mumbled.
    Chase climbed from the boat and shoved the
license and passport into his back pocket. Grabbing a rock, he
tried to skip it across the water. It caught on a wave and sunk.
"We need Aunt Clair to wake up!" He pitched another rock into the
choppy Sound.
    "The Healing Room should help her get better
faster," said Persephone. "Then hopefully it won't be too long
until she can tell us what happened."
    Chase continued to throw rocks. He didn't
want to look at her