Yeah, I didn’t really believe it either.
“There’s something here,” he started, wagging his finger between the two of us. “I know you feel it.”
“I ... .”
“Shh.” He pressed the finger to my lips and grinned at my outrage. “We can’t deal with it right now. We can’t even talk about it right now, because it’s a lot of stuff. After this is over we’ll have time to discuss things.
“Until then, I want you to stop worrying about me making a move on you,” he continued. “It won’t happen. I want time to get to know you, perhaps a night out that doesn’t involve breaking and entering or ripping the door off a vehicle to get at a horrible man.
“I’m attracted to you,” he admitted. “It makes me feel weird because I’m not keen on the idea of dating a co-worker. Still, I can’t stop thinking about you, so I’m going to try dating you. Do you think you can handle that?”
I narrowed my eyes. “You keep bringing it up. I want to pretend it’s not happening.”
“Yes, well, I don’t think that’s wise either. For now, we have to focus on work. I know it’s going to be difficult for you because of all that drooling you do whenever I’m around, but try to hold it together.”
The impish light in his eyes was charming. His ego was not. “You might get a surprise if you’re not careful,” I warned. “There’s a very good chance I won’t want to date you once everything is done.”
“Oh, I don’t believe that.” He winked. “I plan to knock your socks off ... maybe even literally. This is more important, though … for the time being.”
At least we agreed on that. “Let’s focus on the book. There has to be a key we’re missing.”
“Right. That’s exactly what I was saying.” Gunner shifted so he could get comfortable, his eyes momentarily tracking to the item I picked up from the floor before getting distracted. “What’s that?”
“What?” I glanced at the prayer book I’d lifted from the box in the basement before I’d been distracted by the mummy. “I stole it from the church yesterday and forgot about it.”
He took the book from me and flipped it open, making a face when he read the first page. “He is the resurrection and the light. He will cross boundaries from one plane to the next, rendering this world his playground and the previous one a wasteland.” He frowned. “That’s cheery.”
“Yeah, well ... .” I pursed my lips when I caught sight of the illustration below the words. “Is that a mirror?”
“It is,” he confirmed. “It looks to be an antique mirror.”
“Yeah.” I took the book and stared at the hand-drawn illustration. “I’ve seen this mirror.”
“I have, too, now that you mention it.” Gunner started flipping through the grimoire. “I’ve seen it in here.”
I flicked my eyes to the page he indicated, bolting upright at the two illustrations side by side. “Holy ... !”
“Do you think the mirror is important?” he asked.
“This grimoire is a hodgepodge of texts and illustrations that spans a great number of years,” I noted. “There’s Sanskrit, Aramaic, Biblical Hebrew and Middle English. We talked about it before, but I’m starting to think this book was written long after those languages were considered dead.”
“Because people wanted to hide what they were writing in here?”
“That would be my guess. The book is in too good of shape to have been written when those languages were in use. There’s every possibility the information was traced over every few years and included in a different book, but at some point they were all joined together like this ... and there has to be a reason.”
“You think the mirror is the reason,” Gunner mused, his eyes drifting back to the illustration. “Do you think it’s a talisman?”
“I think it’s a portal.” I thought back to what I saw in Father Bram’s dressing room. “I think it’s an active portal at that.”
“What sort of portal?”
“One that allows you to travel between two planes, one living and dead. It might explain what happened to Hal’s body to boot.”
“Oh, well, now you have my full attention.” Gunner was rapt as he pushed my hair from my face. “You think this mirror is in Hawthorne Hollow, don’t you?”
“I know it is. I saw it.” I related my two interactions with the mirror, leaving nothing out. When I was done, he was irate.
“You failed to mention the mirror to me,” he complained, his tone accusatory.
“I forgot.” That was mostly true. The red eyes I saw in the mirror as I was fleeing jolted me, but the mummy giving chase had eradicated almost everything else from my mind. “I was worried about other things ... like the mummy.”
“And then Raisin,” he surmised, exhaling heavily. “Okay. I don’t want to argue, so I’ll accept your apology.”
“I didn’t apologize.”
“Close enough.”
He was annoying when he wanted to be. “That doesn’t change the fact that the mirror is in the church ... and we’re now closed off from the mirror.”
“You said that you think the mirror explains what happened to Hal’s body,” he prodded. “How?”
“A mirror is a flat surface,” I replied, my mind working overtime. “Hal’s face wasn’t cut off, it was simply missing, flat.”
“You think he somehow tried to travel between two worlds and something went wrong.”
“Definitely.” I tapped my chin as I stared at the prayer book. “What if Hal wasn’t working with the church, but instead wanted to master the secrets of the mirror for a different reason?”
“What reason would that be?”
I shrugged. “He’s older. Maybe he wanted to cheat death.”
“Okay, he wanted to live forever. He found the grimoire and he was doing research and somehow managed to track the mirror. That’s taking a few leaps, but I can believe it.”
“It also explains why the church members didn’t break into his house after his death and steal the grimoire,” I noted. “They didn’t know it existed. He ended up dead ... and not in that field. They found him at the church. Either his trip was cut short or someone cut it short, and he died. That left them with a body they had to dispose of.”
“And the trail isn’t far from the church,” Gunner mused. “They waited until night, carried him out and dumped him on the other side of the woods.”
“Close to the Cauldron,” I added. “Perhaps they thought we would make good suspects because we ride motorcycles and hang out at a bar all day.”
“Weirder things have happened.” He held up both books so he could compare the mirrors. “These are illustrations of the same mirror. There’s no doubt about that.”
“It’s a portal.” I was certain of it. “I saw what lived on the other side. I have no idea if they’re trying to resurrect someone specific or if a demon somehow bamboozled them and he’s the one they’re trying to help, but whatever that thing I saw is, it wants to come to this side.”
“Which would be disastrous.”
“Definitely.” I bobbed my head. “They’ve been experimenting with bringing people back. They started with Herbert. It worked relatively well, and they could order him around because he was mindless. He was a toy. They weren’t thrilled about losing him, but it was an experiment and they learned from it.
“Then came your wrestling coach,” I continued. “His body was old, but it didn’t look as if it had been underground long. Heck, he might’ve been raised not long after his death for all we know. He could’ve been in that basement the entire time.”
“We need to release him.” Gunner was grim. “I can’t stand the idea of him being dragged back to this side like that ... and before you say his soul might’ve remained behind, I don’t think so. You said Herbert had a pulse. I think his soul was attached to his body.”
I wanted to comfort him, but he wasn’t wrong. The odds of the souls being separated from the bodies were slim. That was the main difference between mummies and
zombies. “We’ll make sure we release him.” I patted his hand before turning to the nightstand and grabbing my computer. “I need to call Mike.”
Gunner’s eyebrows flew up his forehead. “Why? Is now really the time for that?”
“Um, yeah. Father Bram is hiding something important and we need to figure out what it is before we move on them. That barrier will take work to come down. I have an idea about that.”
“If it involves fire, I strongly suggest you come up with a different plan.”
I shot him a look. “Listen, smarty pants ... .”
He caught my finger as I wagged it in his face. “Oh, it’s cute how we already have nicknames for each other,” he drawled. “I’m going to call you droopy drawers.”
I scowled. “I’ll kill you if you try.”
He chuckled. “What’s your idea?”
“We need to talk to Mike first.” I was firm on that. My idea didn’t necessarily hinge on the information he could provide, but I wasn’t quite finished sorting through my magical options. “I’ll tell you as soon as I’m done talking to him.”
“Yes, let’s talk to Mike.” Gunner shifted so he could stare at the screen with me. “Have you ever seen this guy naked?”
I slid him a sidelong look as I hit the “connect” button to place the call. “Why do you care?”
“Because he bugs me.”
“Maybe you bug him.”
“I hope so.” He offered me a saucy wink. “I’m good at bugging people.”
“I noticed.”
Mike, bleary-eyed and still in his pajamas, answered the call. “This had better be good.”
“And don’t you look fresh as a daisy this morning,” I supplied, enjoying the way he glared at me. “I forgot you’re not a morning person.”
“You’re usually not a morning person either,” he pointed out, throwing himself into the chair with an exaggerated sigh. “Why are you up at this ungodly hour?”
“It’s almost ten,” Gunner pointed out.
Mike shifted his gaze to him. “Are you two in bed together?” He knit his eyebrows, frustration evident. “Ugh. I’m so grossed out.”
“Join the club,” Gunner said. “You wouldn’t believe the way she drools. Really, it’s disgusting. It’s a good thing she looks good naked, because otherwise ... yuck.”
It took everything I had not to roll over and smother him with a pillow. “You are a disgusting individual.”
“I am,” he agreed, grinning.
“I don’t even want to know what’s going on between the two of you,” Mike complained. “It will seriously turn my stomach. I can’t stand either one of you right now.”
“Oh, poor baby.” I offered a teasing smile and then sobered. “Please tell me you have more information on Father Bram. We have something of a situation here, and it’s going to come to a head today. The more information we have, the better off everyone will be.”
“I have something,” he confirmed. “It’s weird, but I have information.”
“Lay it on me.”
“Okay.” Mike rubbed his eyes and then focused on his screen. “Brian McNamara grew up in Minnesota. His father was a grifter who was arrested a good twenty times on a variety of charges. Most of those instances involved romancing older women who happened to be lonely and then draining their bank accounts.”
“He sounds lovely,” I muttered, shaking my head.
“Yeah, well, he romanced the wrong woman and her son got involved,” Mike explained. “He was irate because he felt that money should’ve gone to him — he was a real jackass, quite frankly, and only took care of his mother for the inheritance — and he lost his mind and shot and killed him!”
“Oh, wow.” I rubbed my forehead. “That is ... wow!”
“Pretty much,” Mike confirmed. “Brian was sixteen at the time. He’d been learning from his father for years. I’m not sure what happened to his mother. She’s listed on the birth certificate, but she disappeared when he was eight.”
“Is it possible that his father killed his mother?” Gunner asked.
“Anything is possible, but there’s no record of that. She simply fell off the face of the earth. It’s possible she took off because she didn’t like the life she was living.”
“I guess.”
“Brian lived with an aunt until he was eighteen and could strike out on his own,” Mike said. “He picked up right where his father left off. He was too young to play gigolo — at least at first — so he ran property scams and the like. It was one of those old property scams that caused the church to lose its non-profit status.”
I perked up, intrigued. “Do tell.”
“There’s not much to tell. Twenty years ago he convinced a bunch of people to invest in waterfront condos that never came to fruition. He ran with the money, left Chicago, where he was living at the time under the name Brian Markham.
“I don’t know where he went after that,” he continued. “I’m sure he was grifting, perhaps living off the stolen money for a long time, but he didn’t reappear on the radar screen until he adopted the Father Bram persona twelve years ago.
“He started out learning in Unitarian and Methodist churches, but I don’t know why he chose them. It could be because they’re more open or something, but you’ll have to ask him that question. His upward mobility was stymied in both outfits after a short time.”
“That must be why he decided to start his own religion,” Gunner said. “He couldn’t be the boss if he followed someone else’s rules, so he had to make his own.”
“I’m guessing you’re right,” Mike said. “He registered the religion, jumped through all the necessary hoops relatively quickly, and secured non-profit status. He probably thought he’d found a goldmine or something.
“The problem is, to get the non-profit status he had to register under his real Social Security number,” he continued. “He was wanted for fraud in Minnesota under that number, so eventually the government caught up to him. It took a full two years.”
“So, they stripped his nonprofit status, which essentially takes money out of his pockets,” I said. “How does that lead him to discovering the magic mirror and raising mummies? I just don’t understand the jump.”
Mike’s mouth dropped open. “Mummies?”
“Er ... .”
“Way to go, big mouth,” Gunner chided, grinning.
“Don’t worry about the mummies,” I said. “They’re not important. Thanks for the information, though. I think it will prove helpful.”
“No problem.” Mike waved off the gratitude. “Talk to you soon. I want to hear more about the mummies ... and that dude.” He glared at Gunner. “I definitely want to know what you’re doing with that dude.”
“It’s a really long story.”
“And it has a happy ending,” Gunner added, reaching for the disconnect button. “Thank you so much, Mike. We’ll take it from here.”
I glared at him when the screen went dark. “That was rude.”
“I don’t like the way he looks at you.”
“You realize we’ve known each other less than a week, right?” I challenged. “I had a long and fulfilling life before we collided.”
“Yes, but things are going to be better now. Just you wait.” He grinned as I rolled my eyes. “Now, tell me your plan for the barrier. You have your information. Does it involve fire?”
“You really don’t want to know the answer to that.”
His smile slipped. “Oh, I just knew you were going to burn something before this was all over. This is going to suck.”
“You don’t know that. It could be fun.”
“No, it’s going to suck.”
“Well, at least your head is in a good place for this mission. I would hate to think you were looking at the dark side of things.”
“Yup. It’s definitely going to suck.”
I couldn’t decide if he was right. Things really were up in the air.
Twenty-Eight
&nbs
p; Rooster, Bonnie, Marissa and Whistler were waiting for us when we arrived at All Souls Church. They looked ready for battle, but the barrier was obviously in place and they were stuck on the opposite side of the road.
“We’re starting to draw looky-loos,” Rooster complained as he greeted us. “There’s no way we can move on the church with so many people watching.”
I glanced over his shoulder to where a group of residents had grouped together. There had to be at least six of them, and they had their heads bent together as they whispered. Clearly they sensed something was about to go down. “Don’t worry about them.”
Rooster arched a dubious eyebrow. “Don’t worry? Secrecy is important, young lady. You haven’t forgotten that, have you?”
“No. I have the crowd under control. And don’t call me ‘young lady.’”
“Would you like to explain to the class how you’re going to ensure that?”
“Sure.” I flashed a tight smile. “Will you hold this for me?” I handed him the prayer book and raised my hands. “Just give me one second.”
“What is she doing?” Bonnie asked, ambling over.
“Probably showing off some more,” Marissa muttered. “Does anyone else think all she’s done since arriving is show off?”
“No.” Gunner shot her a look. “It’s not as if she’s trying to get people to call her Foxy or anything.”
“I am foxy,” Marissa shot back.
“Whatever.” He turned back to me as I gathered my magic. “What are you going to do?”
“Don’t worry. The fire portion of today’s festivities isn’t up yet. This is more of a ... wet thing.”
“Wet? I ... .” He broke off at the rumble of thunder, his eyes flying to the sky as storm clouds appeared out of nowhere and obliterated the sun. They rolled in so fast it was almost as if someone had pressed “fast forward” on a remote control.
The people across the road started murmuring, as if they were surprised to be caught in a storm. Within seconds, they started hurrying toward their homes. None of them made it before the rain came. With a terrific crack of lightning, followed closely by a deafening roar of thunder, a deluge started ... and forced prying eyes indoors, where they belonged.
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