The Misadventures of Anna Cabbot

More Questions than Answers

She didn't sleep well that night. At four in the morning she gave up hoping for anything different than tossing and turning, and went down to the kitchen. She made herself some coffee, brought her sketchbook and pencil from the living room, and sat herself at the island.

Anna let the previous night stretch out in front of her mind's eye, starting with the warehouse. It shared space on the page with a close-up view of the door, and a pair of eyes from when the slit had slid back to reveal whoever had asked her for a password.

She tilted her head to the side and surveyed her work for a long moment. Something struck her as odd, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Rather than drive herself up the wall, she flipped to a new page and started on her first impression of Jamie.

The sweep of his hair across his forehead. The shape of his eyes and the slope of his nose — it had a little bump, like it had been broken once or twice before — the definition of his cheekbones, and how his mouth turned up at the corners, like he'd found a joke he wanted to share but had to wait. The way the hood of his jacket had been bunched against his neck, the way the material lay over the breadth of his shoulders.

She jerked sharply upright and nearly put the pencil point through drawing-Jamie's eye.

"Shit," she muttered. "Shit, shit, shit."

"It's a little early for that kind of blasphemy, isn't it?" Carson said from the doorway, one hand rubbing at his forehead while his bedhead defied gravity.

"No." She put the sketchbook on the island in order to wrap both hands around her mug. "Not at..." she trailed off as she twisted to see the microwave and winced. "Seven-fifteen. Wow. Uh..." She blew out a breath and leaned into his warm bare side when he put an arm around her for a half-hug. "I guess I lost track of time."

"Did you sleep at all?" he asked, stepping around her to put the kettle on.

"Yeah. Not great, but yeah, I did." Anna sipped her coffee. "Figured I could do something productive instead of staring at the ceiling."

She watched Carson carefully peruse her sketchbook pages. He flipped back and forth between the sets of drawings she'd done that morning, frowning.

"There's something not quite right about the two of those, and I can't figure out what it is," she murmured.

He rubbed his thumb under the image of eyes in the door slot. "They're the same."

Anna set her coffee mug down and leaned in closer. "Thta's it. It's the eyes. They're the same eyes."

The kettle whistled. Carson made his cup of tea, and while the bag bobbed in the water, leaned against the counter. "That means that there was either someone else there who's a very close relative, or Jamie can somehow be in two places at once."

She rubbed the side of her nose. "I know which one I'm hoping for, honestly, but considering he's a witch? Anything is possible."

Carson didn't say a word.


Jamie was in line when she and Carson arrived at Spot at about 10:50. He gave them both a cheery wave, and ordered coffee and a donut. There were purple smudges under his eyes, like he hadn't slept much and was doing his damndest to pretend otherwise.

"Paula's makes the best donuts," he said while the three of them waited for their drinks.

Anna gently swirled her decaf tea bag in water that appeared to be the same temperature as the surface of the sun; Carson added liberal amounts of cream and sugar to his large coffee. Jamie's vanilla and caramel latte looked so appetizing Anna was almost jealous enough to wish she hadn't had any coffee that morning.

Almost.

They snagged a table in the seating area away from the hustle and bustle of the main counter and out of view of the many windows lining both Delaware and Chippewa streets. It was the back corner, far enough in the shadow and out of earshot that anyone who might have a clue regarding what they talked about wouldn't be likely to overhear clearly.

Not that Anna worried about that — nobody had given them so much as a second glance since they'd walked in.

Jamie slid the plate with the donut toward her and Carson. "A peace offering."

"Thanks."

"To get right to it," he said, "there's not a whole lot of witches or other Community members with that kind of power in Buffalo."

"Do you think someone came here to do it, then?" Carson asked. "A tourist?"

"I haven't felt a power signature." Jamie took a drink of his latte and looked pointedly at Anna. "Have you?"

Small, every day magic wasn't strong enough to leave a trail or signature specific to the witch who performed it while, on the other hand, big magic could be traced back to where it was cast and give enough of a sense impression for someone's witchsense to pick it out.

If Anna had found the exact spot where Nigel had disappeared no more than three or four days after it happened then she might have been able to get a sense of something. But without even that much to go on, she didn't think they'd get far down that route.

She folded her hands in her lap so neither of them would see her fidget. "Uh...not really."

No way in hell was she going to admit she hadn't even tried to look.

"I can keep an ear to the ground for you, if you want me to," Jamie offered.

She and Carson glanced at each other. They shrugged in unison, and Anna figured it couldn't hurt to have at least one more set of eyes and ears on the lookout.

"Sure," she said. She pulled her phone out, unlocked it, and slid it across the table. "Exchange phone numbers?"

He squinted at the screen, then looked at her. "That's...I don't think I'd expect you to have a thing for Bucky Barnes."

She had a type — tall, broad and kinda beefy but with a heart of gold and a soft-edged smile.

"Huh. I thought you'd be more of a Captain America fan," Carson added mildly.

"Can't go wrong with Hawkeye," Jamie said, putting his number in Anna's phone. He handed it back to her and added, "I'm in there as 'Jamie M.' I don't think you have any other Jamies but I don't want to be confused with anyone."

"Better safe that sorry on that front." She squirmed to tuck her phone back in her pocket.

"What's the M stand for?" Carson asked.

"Murdock."

He leaned forward, both hands flat on the table, and stared at Jamie with such an intensity that Jamie clearly fought not to recoil. "Are you secretly Daredevil?"

Anna snorted; Jamie choked on a laugh and shook his head. "Oh, my God, you two are total Marvel nerds."

Carson sat back, arms crossed over his chest, and leaned his shoulder into Anna's. "Great minds think alike."

"Do you have anything else that might be able to help us?" Anna asked, trying to get them back on track.

Jamie shrugged. "The only thing I can really think of is that because it's a Great Lakes thing, maybe ask one of the others if they know anything? Maybe talk with Teddy?"

Anna, in the process of taking a drink of now-slightly-cooler-than-lava-tea, cocked her head to the side. Who the hell was Teddy? None of the Great Lakes started with a T.

"Odette. Lake Ontario," Jamie explained.

"Because that's obvious," Carson muttered.

"Where can we find Teddy?" Anna asked, ignoring his grumblings.

"Last time Nigel said he was going to see her she was in Wilmot Creek." Jamie put his hands up. "Worse case scenario you get an inner tube and float into the lake and ask to see her. She might answer to that."

Or she'd capsize Anna's ass, inner tube and all.

"She goes by Teddy, you said?" Anna took a drink of her tea, gratified it didn't immediately burn her taste buds off her tongue.

"Yeah. And that's really all I know."

Carson fiddled with the lid on his cup. "Not overly helpful."

"It's something, at least." She elbowed him gently in the side. "Thanks."

"Anytime." The corners of Jamie's eyes crinkled. "Will you let me know what you find out?"

She hummed. "Maybe."

Jamie tipped his head back and outright laughed.