by E. E. Holmes
“Glad you found it,” Shriya said.
“Me, too,” Charlie said, swinging his backpack around so that he could deposit the wallet into the front zippered pocket. Then he swung it back onto his shoulders and looked pleasantly between the two of us. “So, Jessica, what do you think of the place? Didn’t I tell you it was great?”
“Yeah, it’s… unique,” I hedged, looking at Shriya for some hint as to what to do. I wasn’t sure if she wanted me to say anything to Charlie about why I was really there. I wasn’t sure I wanted to either, but it seemed I may not have a choice.
Shriya drained her tea and turned to Charlie. “Actually, Jess was just about to tell me a marketing idea she had for the museum.”
Charlie raised his eyebrows, looking between the two of us. “Really! Brilliant! I think we need all the help we can get, frankly. What’s the idea, then?”
Damn it. Poor Tia was just getting to know this guy and I was going to scare him off with my paranormal proclivities before they could even go to dinner. I should be quarantined—I screwed up other people’s relationships just by being around them.
Shriya and Charlie were both looking at me expectantly. What could I do? If Shriya agreed to the investigation, Charlie would find out about it anyway. I sighed.
“Well, see, I’m part of this paranormal investigative team, as a sort of hobby. Just for fun, you know. And we do a web series about haunted locations. I thought maybe we could feature the museum.”
Charlie blinked. He looked at Shriya, and then back at me. “Haunted?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“Charlie haven’t you ever noticed anything… unusual about this place?” Shriya asked.
Charlie opened and closed his mouth a few times, like he was utterly lost for what to say. Then he seemed to slump, letting out a huge sigh and laughing.
“I’m so glad you said it before I did,” he said, still laughing.
Shriya sagged with relief. “You’ve noticed it, too?”
“I wasn’t going to say anything to you, because you’d just inherited the place, and I didn’t want to scare you off, but… well, I’ve heard and seen a few things that have left me scratching my head,” Charlie said. “I’m not… that is to say, I’m not one to believe in this sort of thing, but… it does make one wonder.”
“Yeah, it bloody well does!” Shriya muttered, glancing around the room.
Charlie grinned sheepishly. “I’m sorry I never mentioned it. I didn’t want you to think I was a nutter.”
“Which is the very same reason I never mentioned it to you,” Shriya said. “Not a great way to keep employees, scaring them off with talk of spirits and spooks.”
“Not that I’m saying I necessarily believe that’s what’s going on,” Charlie said, stoutly, straightening up.
“Nor am I, necessarily,” said Shriya quickly. “But it might be nice to have a professional come in and give us an answer either way.”
“Right,” said Charlie. Then he turned to me, grinning. “And you’re a professional, eh? Tia never told me her friends were quite so… interesting.”
“That’s a euphemism if ever I heard one, but I’ll take it,” I said, smiling at last. Maybe I hadn’t completely scared him off after all.
“So, explain to me how this investigation could help the museum?” Shriya asked, sounding a bit more eager, now that she realized Charlie was on board.
“Well, the web series has millions of viewers—it’s really popular. And a lot of those viewers love to frequent the locations we feature. Not only would it publicize that the museum exists, but it would popularize it with a large segment of the population who are fascinated with haunted places. I think it would send visitor numbers through the roof, honestly.”
A slow smile was blooming on Shriya’s face. “That would be absolutely brilliant. You really think it would work?”
“I really do,” I said.
“I think she’s got something there,” Charlie added thoughtfully. “Just think about tourism in London. How many haunted walking tours are there? How many Jack the Ripper displays? How many famously haunted castles and pubs? People come from all over the world to see things like that. Adding Pickwick’s to the list of haunted London destinations might be just the ticket.”
Shriya turned back to me. “Right, then. Sign us up! How soon can you do it?”
“Let me check in with the team, but within a few weeks, I think,” I said, smiling.
“Brilliant!” Shriya said. “You’re hired! Wait… um… how much is this investigation going to set me back?”
“Nothing!” I said quickly. “All we ask is unrestricted access to the building overnight.”
“Why overnight?” Shriya asked.
“Two reasons, really. The first is because we don’t want to interrupt one of your business days—the point is to help your business, not hurt it. And secondly, investigating at night is much better for evidence collection. Most of what we capture is either on audio or video equipment, and there is a lot less contamination when the streets aren’t bustling with people.” I gestured toward the front windows, where even at that moment, a knot of three women was passing. Their voices carried easily into the museum.
“Oh, I see. Yeah, that makes sense,” Shriya said, nodding.
“And one other thing,” I added. “Can you make sure not to move anything out of the museum between now and then?”
Shriya frowned. “Why?”
“Well, there’s always the possibility that it’s the building itself that’s attracting the spirits. But it could also be artifacts in the building that are the real attraction. I mean, you’ve got lots of very old stuff in here.”
“Oh, right,” Shriya said, and now she was scanning the room wide-eyed, as though the object causing the haunting would suddenly have a bright, blinking arrow hanging over it. “No problem. We won’t touch anything, will we, Charlie?”
Charlie crossed his heart solemnly. “Not a speck of dust.”
Shriya gave a great sigh of relief. “Well, all right then. Let’s do it.”
“Great!” I said. “I’ll talk to my team and we can coordinate a date and time.” As I stood up to go, I looked over at Charlie, who was chuckling and shaking his head. “What’s so funny?” I asked him.
“Well, well, well, Jessica,” he said. “You are just full of surprises, aren’t you?”
Wasn’t that the goddamn truth.
8
Unexpected Ally
“ARE YOU MAD AT ME? Please tell me you aren’t mad at me.”
It was Friday afternoon. I was standing in front of Tia like a convict about to be sentenced. I bounced nervously on the balls of my feet. She’d stayed so late studying at the library on Thursday night that I was asleep when she got home, and she was out the door again in the morning before I could drag my lazy ass out of bed. With Hannah gone at a Council meeting all day, and Milo with her for moral support, I had no one to distract me from my own fear that Charlie would tell Tia about our run-in at the museum before I would get a chance to do it. The moment she had walked in the door from school that afternoon, I had accosted her, sat her down, and told her everything about Charlie, the museum, and the investigation. She’d now been silent for at least a full minute, and I was starting to think she might have gone into shock.
“Tia? Say something. Are you mad at me?” I repeated.
“I don’t know yet,” Tia said dazedly. “I’m still trying to process what you just said to me.”
“I know. Sorry. That was a lot to drop on you in one fell swoop,” I said with a grimace.
Tia shook her head a little, like she had water in her ears. “So… so that first morning when you met Charlie, you thought he was haunted?”
I nodded. “Yup. Most haunted person I’d ever seen.”
“And why exactly didn’t you tell me that right away?” Tia asked, starting to sound severe now that she was getting over her initial shock.
“Because you were already fr
eaking out, remember?” I reminded her. “I didn’t want to scare you away from him, not until I understood a little better what was going on. I was going to tell you yesterday, but this is the first time I’ve seen you.”
“I can’t believe this,” Tia muttered.
“Neither could I, which is why Hannah and I decided to look into it right away,” I said.
“Hannah knew, too?” Tia gasped.
I gave a guilty grimace. “Well, yeah. There was a massive crowd of ghosts. It was… kind of impossible to miss.”
“Unless you’re me,” Tia grumbled.
“You mean, unless you’re normal,” I corrected her. “Which you are. And so is Charlie! See? Match made in heaven.”
“So, then why were all those ghosts hanging around him in the market when it’s the museum that’s haunted?” Tia asked, a note of hysteria just creeping into her voice. I attempted to stamp it out at once.
“It wasn’t him at all,” I said. “They were attracted to something—or maybe everything—in that display cart.”
“But why?” Tia asked.
“That’s what we’re trying to find out. Look, I’d love to just let it go, but it has something to do with a Gateway, so I really can’t just ignore it,” I said.
“I know, I know,” Tia said. “And… and you’re sure that Charlie didn’t seem freaked out or anything?”
“No,” I said quickly. “Honestly, Tia, he seemed kind of fascinated. He even said himself that he’d seen and heard things in the museum that he couldn’t explain.”
Tia exhaled slowly. “Okay. Okay. He didn’t run screaming. That’s good.”
“He told me I was ‘full of surprises,’” I said, flashing her a winning smile.
Tia allowed herself a nervous little laugh. “Well, he’s not wrong about that, is he?”
“I’m really sorry, Tia,” I said seriously, folding myself onto the couch cushion beside her. “I didn’t want to tell you until I had a better understanding of what the hell was going on. There was no point in scaring you away from Charlie over what might turn out to be nothing. You were finally healing, and I didn’t want to ruin that.”
Tia narrowed her eyes at me. “Well, I’m still a little aggravated that you weren’t honest with me, but… I understand that you were just trying to protect me.”
“I was, I promise. I still am,” I told her. “Forgive me?”
Tia’s arms were still folded across her chest, and she wasn’t looking at me anymore, but I thought I saw the corner of her mouth twitching upward. “I haven’t decided yet. I think I’m going to hold it over your head for a while.”
“Fair enough. I deserve it,” I said. Hanging my head contritely, I put my hand into my cardigan pocket and pulled out a king-sized bag of Skittles. “Here, have some of this shameless bribery candy to help you make up your mind. I know they don’t taste exactly like the American ones, but they’re still pretty good.”
Tia was definitely fighting a smile now. “I cannot be bribed.”
“If you say so,” I said, plunking the bag of candy down onto the coffee table before heading off to raid the fridge.
I’d barely made it into the kitchen when Tia called out, “What was Charlie doing at the museum anyway? I thought he was sick?”
“He is,” I told her. “But he left his wallet there on Sunday, and couldn’t pick up his meds.”
“Oh,” Tia said. “I… I got nervous for a second that…”
“What? That he lied to you about being sick? Why would he do that?” I asked.
“I don’t know.” Tia sighed, tearing into the Skittles package. “I’m just being paranoid. It’s what I do now.”
“Well, don’t,” I said firmly. “He looked awful—like he hadn’t slept at all. And besides, the first thing he did when he saw me in the museum was ask for you.”
Tia sat up, looking at me eagerly. “He did?”
“Yup. And you should have seen the sad little look on his face when I told him it was just me.” I stuck my lip out in an exaggerated pout.
Tia blushed and giggled as she popped a handful of candy into her mouth. “Yeah, right.”
Our buzzer sounded loudly, making both of us jump.
“You expecting anyone?” I asked Tia. She shook her head.
I jammed my finger against the silver button on the speaker by the door and spoke into it. “Who is it?”
“It’s Fiona,” barked a familiar voice. “Open the door, would you? It’s coming down in buckets out here.”
I pressed the door release, wondering, as I did so, what in the world Fiona was doing here. She’d never come to our flat before. Hell, I could hardly remember her ever coming out of the castle grounds before.
I opened the door to find Ambrose poking his head out of his flat like a rat scenting garbage. He caught my eye and jutted out his chin defiantly.
“Who is it, then?” he asked.
“Fiona,” I told him.
He frowned. “What’s she doing here? You expecting her?”
“I have no idea why she’s here. Ask her yourself,” I replied.
At that moment, Fiona’s kerchiefed head appeared at the top of the staircase. She was panting slightly and carrying a large portfolio under her arm.
“Hey, Fiona,” I said.
“Hey, yourself. Couldn’t do me a brew, could you?” she asked.
“Sure. Come on in,” I said, stepping aside so she could walk through.
She crossed to the doorway but paused when she caught sight of Ambrose staring at her.
“What do you want, then?” she barked at him.
For all of his usually persistent attitude, he quailed under the stare of a senior Council member. “Just keeping an eye on things,” he mumbled, inclining his head.
“Well, go keep an eye on something else,” Fiona snapped. “I’m here on Council business and I’d like to get to it without being gawked at like an animal at the bloody zoo.”
Ambrose ducked back into his flat and shut the door. Fiona threw one last disgusted look at the place where he had stood, then shuffled through the door, thrusting the portfolio into my arms as she came.
“Bugger those stairs!” she cursed, hobbling over to the sofa and collapsing upon it.
“It’s only one flight,” I said. “Don’t you live at the top of a tower?”
“Eh, my knees are acting up again. Spent the whole week restoring the artwork on the Léarscáil map. Four days of kneeling on stone, and I’m about ready to chop my legs off and have done with it.” She grunted as she pulled off her shoes and began massaging her kneecaps.
“Do you want ice or something?” I asked as I set the portfolio down on the table.
“No, no, just the tea,” Fiona snapped. “If… if you would,” she added in an attempt at sounding polite. She looked over and saw Tia still sitting on the couch, clutching her Skittles and looking alarmed.
“Who are you, then?” Fiona asked bluntly.
“I… uh…” Tia stammered.
“Stumped you with that one, have I?” Fiona asked, rolling her eyes.
I stepped in quickly, tea kettle in hand. “Fiona, this is my roommate Tia Vezga. Tia, this is my… art instructor, Fiona.”
Fiona scoffed at being introduced as such, but held out her hand grudgingly. Tia took it, shook it quickly, and murmured, “Nice to meet you.”
Fiona grunted. This was meant as a pleasantry, evidently.
“Well, I’ve, uh… got some work to catch up on,” Tia said, rising from the couch. This was a lie, obviously, as Tia had never been behind on work in her life. “I’ll let you two chat.” Tia nodded once at Fiona, waved a hand at me, and disappeared into her room.
“I don’t know how you do it,” Fiona grumbled, shaking her head.
“How I do what?” I asked, setting the teapot to boil.
“Keep up the charades,” Fiona said. “I haven’t the stomach for that nonsense.”
“Well, we’re supposed to,” I said, shrugging. “Besi
des, Tia actually knows a lot about the Durupinen. We had to get permission to fill her in when she had to go into hiding to protect her from the Necromancers. I just don’t… overburden her with stuff she doesn’t need to know.”
“Bah,” Fiona said, picking absently at a bit of plaster stuck under her fingernail. “I’ve never had the patience for it. All this secrecy. It’s bollocks. Tell ‘em all what we do and let them bloody well deal with it. All this tip-toeing around, dealing in half-truths. That’s why I don’t have outside friends. Not worth the bother.”
I could think of about a hundred reasons that Fiona didn’t have outside friends—her propensity for hurling furniture at people who mildly annoyed her, for example. But I decided to bite back the urge to tell her this; whatever she was here for, it would be much easier not to send her into a temper, and anyway, we didn’t have much in the way of expendable furniture to spare.
“I’m glad to see you. Milk or sugar in this?”
“Two sugars, cheers,” Fiona said.
I prepared the tea, put the cup on a saucer, and carried it carefully over to Fiona, who took it and then tutted loudly at me.
“You’ve left the teabag in! Were you raised by wolves?” she snapped, fishing it out.
“No, Americans,” I said. “Same difference, apparently, when it comes to tea etiquette.”
Fiona smirked just slightly, then gulped her tea noisily.
“So, what can I do for you this afternoon, Fiona?” I asked. “Besides the tea, I mean?”
“I can’t stay long. Just wanted to drop your latest batch of work off to you. I’ve been through it all,” Fiona said in an overly loud voice.
I frowned at her. “Why didn’t you just give it to Hannah at the meeting today? You didn’t need to come all the way out here.”
“I wasn’t at the meeting today,” Fiona said, nearly shouting. “I had business in London, so I decided to drop by. Not a crime, is it?”
“No, of course not,” I said with a chuckle. “Why are you—”
But Fiona was shaking her head and jerking a thumb toward the far wall. I opened my mouth to ask what the hell she was doing, but then the proverbial lightbulb went on. Ambrose’s flat was on the other side of that wall. She was staging this conversation for his benefit. What I didn’t understand was why.