“Somewhat. From what I understand, ley lines are invisible lines of power that travel underneath the Earth. In areas where ley lines intersect, there are more shifters and witches born than in other areas.”
“Well, there’s an area of swampland a few miles outside of Blue Moon Junction where three ley lines intersect. It’s one of the few places in the world where that happens; in most places there are only two. It’s also the only area in the world where three ley lines intersect and where there are also people living nearby; the other areas are under a volcano and deep in the ocean. It’s believed that from time to time, something causes the ley lines to flare up in power just like a solar flare, and that’s what happened here back in the early 1800s.” Maybelle paused to take a bite of donut. “Up to that point, shifters and witches were believed to be myths and fairy tales. In the early 1800s, as I’m sure you know, all of a sudden there were so many shifters and witches being born that mankind finally had to accept that they were real. And this area of Florida was where it happened first, although there was a big population boom all over the country.”
“So, what does this have to do with the missing shifters?’
“Well, the shifters who first came out of the closet, so to speak, are known as Original Shifters. Marie Kirby is the descendent of Cyrus and Elizabeth Kirby. Cyrus was a wolf shifter. David Bollinger is a panther shifter. He’s the descendent of Zachary and Primrose Bollinger. Primrose was a panther shifter.”
“Interesting.” Coral frowned. “Of course, Adrian Freidman was a human, not a shifter, and he wasn’t from this area at all.”
“True. The connection could just be coincidence,” Blanche admitted.
Coral leaned back in her chair, tapping her pen on the desk. “Adrian was working on a story before he disappeared. Maybe his story is somehow tied in with their disappearance. Except they disappeared after he did, so…damn it.”
Frederick, who had been editing a picture on his computer, rolled his eyes. “Or, maybe you’re a crazy conspiracy theorist who’s so desperate for a story she’ll invent one if she has to? Hey, by the way, do you want me to blow this up and make an 8 by 10 glossy for you?”
He swiveled the screen towards her. It was a picture of Flint from the bachelor auction, looking achingly handsome in his tuxedo.
“I’d like something blown up.” Coral glowered threateningly at Frederick. He didn’t look worried.
“Remember, I want all the details. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m taking Bettina out for a coffee date.”
Coral raised an eyebrow at him. “Remember what I told you. I’m bigger than you. I can hurt you.”
“Oh, go type an obit,” Frederick said, tossing a paper clip at her, which of course got caught in her curly hair.
“You dropped your purse, by the way,” Blanche said, handing it to her.
“Thank you, Blanche. Ladies, thank you for the insight into the missing people. Who knows, it may lead to something. Let me know if you come up with anything else. And stay out of trouble, ha ha, as if. I have to get to work now.”
That afternoon, finished with all of her newspaper busywork, she looked up the address of Marie Kirby’ s parents, and David Bollinger’s wife. She went to the house of Marie’s parents first.
They lived in a small bungalow style home, colorfully painted, with knee-high ceramic planters full of coleus on either side of their front door.
The door flew open before Coral even had a chance to ring the doorbell.
Marie’s mother Allegra was a pretty, dark-haired wolf shifter in her fifties, but her face was pinched with worry.
“Hi, I’m Coral Colby. I’m a reporter at the Tattler. I’m sorry to intrude, but I’m wondering if you’ve heard from your daughter yet. The reason I’m asking is that I got a visit from a woman named Molly Friedman-”
“I know who she is,” Allegra interrupted. “She came to speak to me. We still haven’t heard from Marie, and she was due to come home a week ago. She never got on her flight. I don’t know if it’s connected to the other disappearances or not. Do you have any news?”
“I don’t, I’m afraid, but I’m looking into the disappearances to see if they might be connected. And nobody has any idea what happened?”
“Nobody,” Allegra said, hugging herself. “We actually flew to France, and we weren’t able to find out anything new. All we know is that she checked out of her hotel there, was on her way to meet friends in London, and apparently never boarded the train. Her friends called us, and we called the police and reported her missing. Interpol isn’t helpful at all. We even contacted the Shifter’s Council, and they haven’t been able to come up with anything.”