Chapter 4
In the kitchen of the House of Winds, the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. Anemo paced back and forth restlessly, his bare feet cold against the tiled floor, completely lost in thought when the phone in his pocket gave a short buzz. He had received a notification. But before he could even unlock the screen or read the saving message sent in secret by the furry crew, the bronze lion-shaped knocker on the front door began to pound violently.
"I'm coming! Hold your horses, the house isn't on fire!"
"Are you sure about that?" Frost replied the moment the door swung open. "Have you seen the circus outside your place?"
He had just managed to reach the door with great effort, sweaty and irritated under his long trench coat. Because of the chaos caused by reporters, who had completely blocked off Ether Drive with broadcast vans and tripods, the detective had been forced to park his car all the way at the other end of the street. His old cream-colored Peugeot 403 Sedan, faded and dulled by time, sat trapped at the intersection with its engine off, looking like a relic from a 1960s noir film. Frost had walked the rest of the way, elbowing his way through the agitated crowd. Behind him, microphones waved in the air as reporters squeezed together, shouting short, absurd, and nagging questions all at once about Remi and her disappearance. Someone even yelled, "What did you do to her? Did you kill her?" but Anemo showed quick reflexes. Grabbing Mr. Trench by the arm, he practically lifted him off his feet, pulling him inside the house. He immediately slammed the door behind them and led the detective into the kitchen, which had become the official headquarters of the Book Club—hosted, quite against his will, in our writer's home for the very first time.
Meanwhile, Daisy Queen, overwhelmed by the commotion, turned on the radio. The deep voice of a female news anchor was just reporting on the mysterious disappearance of the author of the bestseller Women Can't Be Tamed.
"This girl always finds a way to be everywhere! She is missing, yet she is everywhere. If I open the fridge, someone will probably pop out of there to ask me about her," Anemo muttered as he pulled out his phone to check the notification.
"Aha, you're jealous, Mr. Gale! Don't tell me that..."
"Please stop right there, Detective Mr. Tren... Frost. We—meaning Remi and I—were supposed to have a date today... a romantic one. And I'm just frustrated that... Ha! She wrote to me! Look here!"
With an almost childish gesture, he shoved the screen right into the detective's face, as if trying to blind him with the backlight.Bise, who had joined the other furry friends at the Book Club after completing her mission, completely ignoring Anna's allergies, curled up like a fur muff on the bare feet of her literary rival. She lifted her head to watch his reaction to the message.
"Listen to this! It says:"
"Dear Anemo, forgive me for leaving in such a rush. I realized too late that I forgot my purse with my phone inside, and I couldn't turn back. I have some research to do for my new book, and an unexpected opportunity came up. I beg you to take care of my white cat; I can't leave her with my mother because she is allergic. The Angora kitty is named Bise, and I hope she gets along with your furry crew. I'll take you out on a date when I get back, and I promise to make it up to you. Remi Storm Send!"
"What?" Frost asked. "Does it actually say 'send' at the end?"
"Yes... very strange! But well, you know how she is, maybe she dictated the text to someone and that goofball..."
"Oops... looks like I typed absolutely everything," whispered the "goofball," who was currently stuck like a sticker against the white baseboard of the kitchen.
"This message doesn't convince me at all! But if Mrs. Anna Storm withdraws her statement and decides the person is no longer missing... What do you say, Mrs. Storm?"Mr. Trench measured the writer's mother from head to toe, his look borderline provocative, borderline ironic.
"Detective, seriously now, you're losing your mind with these conspiracy theories," Anemo said, waving his hand dismissively. "We are talking about an email! Remi is permanently logged into her accounts on her tablet and the laptop she always carries around. She doesn't need any code from her phone. She opens the screen, writes, and that's it! And this text is pure Remi. Only she could send a message so telegraphic and completely devoid of sentiment."
Anna looked at him with an air of superiority.
"And what exactly did you want her to write to you, if I may ask? A love poem?" But before she could finish her thought, a sudden fit of sneezing overtook the Book Club.
"Come on, fluffballs, let's leave the ladies to drink their tea; they might have other things to do today! Into the living room with you!
*
"Stepping out the front door, Anemo raised a hand in the air.
"Reporters, please!"The crowd kept buzzing, paying no attention to the raised arm in front of them."Everyone! I have something important to tell you! Remi is safe; I just received an email from her. She is very busy working on her new book, but she is doing well, and she left her Angora kitty in my care. That is all I have to say. Goodbye! People need some peace and quiet on our street."
Anemo's firm statement hit the crowd of journalists in the yard like a thunderbolt. A few cameramen lowered their gear from their shoulders in disappointment, while reporters began hurriedly jotting down the final details, grumbling that a story promising record-breaking ratings had just gone up in smoke. After all, a rebellious writer running off to the heart of the mountains without a phone to write a new bestseller wasn't a crime—it was just tabloid gossip that would fizzle out on its own.
Anemo slammed the door behind them, letting the street noise fade away as the journalists headed back to their cars. Slowly but surely, the broadcast vans began to clear out of Ether Drive, making room for the old cream Peugeot, which now looked more outdated than ever at the end of the emptied street.
Daisy Queen turned off the radio with a quick motion, breathing a sigh of relief.
On the thick carpet, the furry team had formed a circle, looking like a council of elders gathering to map out the strategy for their nightly mission.
Remi felt that the bead on her collar was perfectly camouflaged by her white fur, and that after all, thanks to this magic, she—an independent, strong, down-to-earth woman—was now living the adventure of her life.
"Ugh, ma chérie..." Mistral purred, shaking a black paw. "That goofball Aeolus almost gave us away with his 'Send!' bit, but Anemo was brilliant. Now that everyone is gone, what's the plan?"
"Now we rest, Mistral! Even fluffballs need their beauty sleep!"
But the stomach of the chat noir was busy playing an unmusical concert.
"Let's eat something... a can of tuna. I saw that Anemo prepared a surprise for us, but first we have to do our routine with the bowls on the tiles in the..."
"No, please don't remind me of that routine that got me stuck in this gorgeous fur... I know it by heart, and now I'm going to do it too."
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