The Law Of Nines Part 20

"Don't tell me," she said, fanning her face as if feeling faint, "we're madly in love, I am betrothed to you, and we're to be married."

Alex winced a little. "Well, as a matter of fact, that is what I came up with-the engaged part. I thought it would be a useful story. I mean, if I'm to take you into the hospital where my mother is locked up I should have some kind of plausible story. They don't let just anyone in. You need to be someone close, like a relative, a spouse, something like that."

"Why is your face red?"

"Look, I just figured that if we said that you were my fiancee it would satisfy people and avoid a problem. I didn't realize that you'd object."

"Relax," she said with a smile. "I thought of that same story myself."

"Oh. You did?"

"Of course. What else could we say to people where your mother is held? That I'm a woman who dropped in from another world and I would like to speak with the crazy lady?"

"Is my face really red?"

She glanced up at him. "A little."

"So, you're my fiancee? You're all right with that story?"

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Unless you're planning on us going through with the marriage."

He slowed and gestured to a window filled with female mannequins dressed in casual clothes, glad to have a change of subject. "We should be able to get you something in here."

He held the big gla.s.s door open for her. She looked back over her shoulder. "Your face is still red, Alex."

"Well, actually," he said, "I was thinking that maybe it would be best if we did actually go through with it and get married. If it was legal it would solve a lot of problems. When we get to the lawyer's office, already being married would help the transfer of the t.i.tle to the land go smoothly. . . ."

He was pleased to see her freeze and stare at him. "Just kidding," he said. "Your face is red."

She shook her head to herself. "I imagine it is."

Round racks with pants, tops, and skirts crowded the floor of the store. Alex directed Jax toward a rack with jeans. As they made their way through the islands of clothes, he leaned close.

"Jax, is there any way to tell if someone is from your world? A way to tell if they're a different kind of human?"

"No. They're the same as you, except that in my world they have magic. Here they don't. I only know they're from my world if I recognize them."

"Or if they try to kill you."

"Well, in my world we would call that a clue."

"My world too," he said, disconcerted to realize that there was no way to tell friend from foe.

When they reached the rack with the jeans he found the size-8 section and pulled out a pair.

"This looks like it might fit you," he said.

Jax glanced around at the circular racks stuffed with clothes. "To think, there are so many things already made that you have a good chance to happen across some that will fit."

"They're sized," he said. "They come in standard sizes."

She shook her head in wonder as she took the jeans from him. Her brows drew together. "These are worn out. Are they a donation for the poor? Is that what this place is?"

Alex laughed softly. "No, no, they're new. They're made to look used. Believe me, they're not for the poor."

Jax appraised him suspiciously.

"It's the fas.h.i.+on," he a.s.sured her.

She looked like she suspected that he might be putting her on again. "The fas.h.i.+on is to look dest.i.tute, with holes in your clothes? Why would anyone choose to look that way?"

"I don't know." He scratched his temple. "I guess the fas.h.i.+on is to look as if you're wearing comfortable old clothes. It's meant to look casual."

"Like making yourself look like a freshly dead corpse?" She sighed as she laid the jeans over the rack. The saleswomen were all acutely interested in Jax. In such a shop her graceful black dress and blond hair made her look like a queen visiting a dump.

"Please, Alex, can we get clothes that don't have holes in them? I want to fit in, but . . ."

"Sure." He pulled out another pair that he thought might be more to her liking. "These aren't even as expensive as the ones with the holes already worn in them."

"Now you're joking at my expense."

"I'm telling you the truth, the ones with holes cost more. Would you like me to tell you a lie that you'd rather believe?"

When she still looked skeptical he pulled out another pair and showed her the price tags.

She took the jeans from him. "I like these better."

"You won't be as fas.h.i.+onable."

"Will I fit in?"

"Yes."

"Then may I have these instead? Please?"

Alex smiled. "Of course you can. We'll get you whatever you feel comfortable wearing. You pick." He gestured with his chin. "Over there is a fitting room where you can try them on to see if they fit and how they look."

"I can try anything I want?"

"Sure."

She looked relieved and started searching through the rack herself. With a critical eye she appraised the different styles and picked out several pair that didn't have holes and cuts already put in them for the convenience of the busy, fas.h.i.+on-conscious woman. As she searched, she handed him jeans to hold.

Along the way to the fitting room they stopped at several more racks with slacks and several with tops. She wasn't interested in skirts; she thought they would show too much of her legs and draw attention. From what Alex had seen of her long, muscular legs, he had to agree. In the end, though, she changed her mind and decided to try one.

She was picking up the knack for shopping pretty quickly. Alex didn't think that the saleswomen would find anything at all odd about the way she shopped. They would think that she was a woman who knew exactly what she wanted.

As Jax went in to try on her armload of clothes, Alex found a chair and casually pulled it out to the side so that he could have a view of the fitting-room door and also the entrance to the shop. He wanted a clear view if anyone unwelcome came in.

He hoped that no one like that showed up. Firing his gun at night in the middle of a thunder-and-lightning storm was one thing; having to fire the weapon in the middle of a shopping mall was quite another. If the bad guys didn't get him, the good guys were sure to.

Jax soon emerged from the fitting room wearing a pair of low-rise jeans and a black top. "How does this look?"

"Hot."

She frowned. "Not really. I think I would need my cape over this to keep me warm if it gets at all chilly."

"No, I mean it looks hot-attractive, beautiful. Hot."

She got the picture. "Well, I'm glad you think I look hot, but is it good enough to serve the purpose of fitting in?"

"Yes. It's perfect. Try on some more. You'll need a few outfits. Try on the black pants, the ones that look tailored."

When she came out in a simple white blouse and the black pants, he nodded. "Good. That's the right look."

The lawyer said that the transfer of t.i.tle would be ready in a couple of days, but Alex would have to sign the papers in person. As meticulous as the lawyer sounded, Alex didn't want Jax to raise eyebrows. He was hoping the lawyer might be able to give them some information, or at least a clue, that could help them. If they were to put a man of such orderly nature at ease, Alex thought, he and Jax needed to appear respectable.

They picked out a few more outfits, mostly jeans, that would look normal in most situations and be good for traveling. After they paid for the clothes they sat at a table in the food court so he could cut off the tags. He used his pocketknife for the task, warning Jax not to pull her knife out in public. After he was finished with a pair of jeans and the black top that she liked, she went to the bathroom to change while Alex removed the rest of the tags and labels.

He noticed that when she came out she still attracted attention, but it was a little different. It was admiring glances rather than frowning curiosity.

She came to a halt before him as he picked up the bags with their purchases. She handed him a bag with her black dress. He felt a little guilty about asking her to wear clothes she wasn't accustomed to.

"Well, what do you think?" he asked.

She gave him a crooked smile. "I think I look hot."

Alex heaved a sigh of relief, glad that she was taking it well. "You'll get no argument from me. Better yet, you look like you belong in this world. Hopefully, Cain's people won't recognize you now."

"That may be too much to hope." She took his arm as they started back to the truck. "Thank you, Alex, for helping me fit in better here. It will make it easier to find answers."

On the way through the mall back toward the parking lot, Jax abruptly pulled him to a halt. He looked over to see her staring into a store window.

The shop was called Pandora's Treasure Box. The place sold an extensive variety of figurines and such. They had a lot of wizards and dragons from what Alex could see.

Jax shot him a meaningful look. "What is this?"

Alex shrugged. "Some people are interested in that kind of thing."

Without further word, she marched in the door of the shop.

PANDORA'S TREASURE BOX SPECIALIZED in items that, for the most part, looked to be related to some aspect of magic. They had everything from board games with flying creatures, to amulets, to fairies, to gnomes, to dragons of every sort, to wizards and witches, to crystals, to intricate handmade magic wands that cost hundreds of dollars. Gla.s.s shelves in the center of the shop held more elaborate collectible figurines. Books on the shelves against the far wall had t.i.tles about spells, wizards, and magic.

Alex had seen places like Pandora's Treasure Box before. As a boy he had visited such shops a time or two. He'd outgrown them in his early teens.

A smiling, overweight woman in a baggy maroon sweats.h.i.+rt came out from behind the counter. A small dragon comb adorned her short, curly brown hair. Reading gla.s.ses hung around her neck on a chain festooned with delicate winged fairies. She looked to be in her fifties.

"I'm Mary, welcome to Pandora's Treasures. May I help you two find anything special?" she asked in a warm, friendly voice.

"We're just looking," Alex said before Jax could say anything. It didn't help.

"Why do you have these things?"

The woman's face creased with a perplexed smile as she glanced around. "They're treasures. People love to collect them. There's nothing like a wizard sitting on your desk to brighten your day."

"Depends on the wizard," Jax said.

The woman chuckled. "You're right, my dear. Some of them can be quite mischievous."

"What makes you think so?"

Mary held a hand out to a display in the center of the shop. "Well, just look at them. We have all sorts. Some wizards are very serious, but there are some-like this fellow here-who love a bit of mischief." The wizard was levitating a dog.

The woman was right about the variety. There were jolly-looking wizards in peaked hats, wizards with long pointed beards pondering books or crystal b.a.l.l.s, and wizards in black robes with glowering, hooded eyes that looked like they really could cast spells. Some were plain pewter while others had been painted in elaborate detail.

Alex thought they had better things to do and wanted to leave.

The woman gazed lovingly at her display. "These figures are reminders to people that magic is in the world all around us."

"No, it's not," Jax said.

She did not look at all pleased. Alex was beginning to worry.

"Why, of course it is," the woman said with a jovial chuckle. "We may not be able to see it, but magic is very real. You just have to be attuned to it." She heaved a sigh. "It would be a sad world if we didn't have magic."

"Yes," Alex said before Jax could say anything, "I can see why people would want to collect these, but magic isn't real."

Mary winked at him. "Oh, don't let the magic go out of your life. That would be a sad thing, wouldn't it, to become so cynical? We all have the capacity to tune in to magic if only we pay attention. We have but to open ourselves to it."

She lifted a delicate chain off a stand. "We have these crystals on necklaces you might like for your lovely lady. They would be beautiful on her, don't you think? People say that the crystals help them feel the waves of magic emanating up all around us."

Jax wasn't listening. "These things are dead wrong," she said to herself under her breath. Mary, showing Alex the necklace, didn't seem to notice.

Jax leaned in a little to peer intently at the items displayed on the second shelf down. A card read "exclusive pieces." When the woman saw Jax's area of interest, she put the necklace back and turned her attention to the center display.

Jax carefully pulled a figure out from the back.

The woman looked pleased at the selection. "Ah, you have good taste."

Jax lifted the figure, an acrylic casting of a nicely sculpted woman with long flowing hair and a simple white dress cut square at the neck.

"Woman of mystery," Mary said softly.

Jax looked up. "What?"

"They call her the Woman of Mystery."