by Chloe Mayson
“Yes, provided that you can stay alive for a year,” Frank replied.
Chapter Three
Cortney thought the woman who entered the room was a child until she saw her face. She looked ancient. Her face had more wrinkles than a prune. It had been the woman's small stature that confused Cortney. The thin old woman stood barely four feet tall. However, unlike a dwarf, the woman’s body was proportionate.
“Mildred, please show Miss Cortney to her room,” Frank ordered.
“Yes, sir,” the old woman answered in a thin voice.
Frank turned to Cortney. “Dinner is served at seven. Mildred will fetch you, since you are unfamiliar with the house and apt to become lost.”
“Can’t Tom Cat take me to the dining room?” Cortney asked.
“He could, but Tom Cat has a mischievous streak and might lead you astray for his own amusement,” Frank said. “I would rather you learn things more leisurely than your familiar would like.”
“Familiar? You mean family, right? Tom Cat is family,” Cortney said.
“Of course, it was a slip of the tongue,” Frank said with a sigh.
“Follow me, Miss Cortney,” Mildred said in her thin crackling voice.
Wow, I feel like a southern gentleman should be escorting me instead of the old crone, Cortney thought as she followed the old woman up the staircase.
Once they reached the landing, Cortney found herself standing at the start of a long, carpeted corridor. Along the sides of the hallway stood full suits of armor. Some of the armored hands held swords.
“Wow, where did the Barnaby family come from?” Cortney asked Mildred.
“Walachia.”
“What part of Louisiana is that?” Cortney asked eyeing the first suit of armor with suspicion as she walked by the shiny metal armor that looked like a real knight.
“Walachia is in the old world,” Mildred replied.
“Oh, you mean it’s a country in Europe. God, I should have known that fact. Now, if you tell me my family is from Transylvania I’m going to freak,” Cortney said as she glanced at the old crone.
“They aren’t from Transylvania,” Mildred replied after a pause.
“That’s good news. I suddenly had an image of a vampire jumping out from behind one of the suits of armor," Cortney said with a sigh of relief.
“Meow.” Tom Cat seemed to agree.
“How long have you served the Barnaby family?” Cortney asked.
The crone stopped and looked at Cortney. Then without a word continued down the corridor.
“Yeah, I guess it’s difficult to remember details when you’re old,” Cortney mumbled.
“This is your bedroom. I haven’t cleared out all of Miss Morticia’s belongings. However, since you haven’t brought any luggage, you might need some of her clothing. You look the same size as your aunt,” Mildred said as she took a large key from a ring of keys she held and handed the key to Cortney. “Dinner is at seven. I will return for you. It’s best to keep your door locked,” the old woman added as she turned to leave.
“Why is it best that I lock my door?” Cortney asked suddenly concerned for her safety.
Mildred didn’t answer.
“Tom Cat, is it safe here in the house?” Cortney asked as she unlocked the door.
The cat lifted his paw and licked it.
“Just for that, you can stay outside and guard my door,” Cortney said as she stepped into the room and closed the door before the cat could enter the room.
I guess I showed him who’s boss, Cortney said as she glanced around the room. Wow, it looks like a bedroom from a horror movie. Oriental rugs covered the floor. An antique blue velvet sofa with a matching loveseat were arranged as a sitting area, behind which was a canopy bed with white lace curtains hanging from the top.
“Talk about creepy,” Cortney mumbled as she quickly turned back and locked the door. “I think I’ll take Mildred’s advice,” she added, as she checked the wall near the door for a light switch.
She flicked on the lights. The room looked less gloomy but not much. Seeing that the curtain was drawn at the window on the left side of the bed, Cortney walked over and glanced out the window.
She sighed at the sight of the cemetery, and quickly looked at the downtown section of Bayou George. She saw only a few cars on Sugar Cane Street. She didn’t spot any pedestrians on the sidewalks.
Bayou George certainly isn’t a bustling town, Cortney thought as she drew the curtains closed. She didn’t want to see the cemetery each time she passed the window. Cortney had a phobia about cemeteries. Knowing that one surrounded the house creeped her out whenever she thought about it.
God, I’m going to have to drive through it every day to go to work. The thought chilled Cortney. “Hmm, maybe I should let Tom Cat in the room,” Cortney said aloud.
“Meow.”
Cortney glanced down at her feet.
“How in Heaven’s name did you get inside? I locked the door!” Cortney exclaimed. God, I hope there’s not a secret door leading to the bedroom. Immediately, Cortney walked around the room banging on the wallpapered walls. “Where’s the hidden door you entered through, Tom Cat?”
“Meow?”
“Show me how you got into the room!” Cortney demanded as she shook her finger at the black cat.
Poof! Tom Cat vanished.
Cortney took a step back. God, am I having a nervous breakdown?
Suddenly she heard a faint meow from the hallway directly outside the bedroom. Cortney hurried over and unlocked the door. Tom Cat stood in front of the door, licking his paw.
“How did you do that? Never mind, I just imagined you were in the room,” Cortney said as she closed the door. Crap, I should have let him inside, Cortney thought.
Cortney screamed as Tom Cat materialized on the floor out of thin air. She backpedaled and fell into a sitting position on the sofa. With her heart pounding in her chest, Cortney glanced cautiously at Tom Cat.
The cat stopped licking its paw and looked at Cortney.
“Meow,” the cat said in a mocking tone.
“What are you?” Cortney demanded. “You aren’t a cat, at least not an ordinary cat,” she said. “Wait a minute. Frank called you a familiar! I thought he meant you were family. God, witches have familiars. Heaven help me, Aunt Morticia was a witch!” Cortney exclaimed.
“Meow.”
“No wonder my parents fled Bayou George with me. My aunt wanted to turn me into a witch!”
The thought left Cortney breathless. Try as she would, she couldn’t wrap her mind around what she had just discovered. Frankenstein downstairs forgot to mention the fact that my aunt was a witch. I wonder what else Frank left out of his little library chat.
Gee, I wonder if Frank even did have a carriage accident? Maybe he is really Frankenstein! Cortney suddenly thought. “Come on girl get a grip. He’s not Frankenstein, and Tom Cat is just… just a Houdini. Yes, his appearing out of thin air is a magician’s trick, nothing more,” Cortney said aloud to calm herself. “Isn’t that right, Tom Cat? You’re just a four-legged Houdini.”
Tom Cat licked his paw.
“Sorry if I’m boring you,” Cortney snapped as she turned and headed to the bathroom. God, I hope it has a shower. When she opened the bathroom door, she found herself staring at a long room at the end of which sat an antique clawed bathtub.
It figures! Please let there be hot water, Cortney thought as she walked over and turned the faucet marked hot until water began to flow. Okay, at least there’s hot water, Cortney thought as she adjusted the temperature until it was to her liking.
I need a change of clothes.
Cortney walked out of the bathroom. Tom Cat didn’t pay her any attention as he continued to lick his left paw.
“I hope you lick all the fur off,” Cortney said as she walked past the cat on her way to the closet. “I bet all her clothes are going to be black,” Cortney added as she opened the door.
Black! Black slacks, black
jeans, black blouses, black coats, black shoes, black clothes filled the entire elongated, walk-in closet.
Hmm, it looks like it is going be black jeans with a black blouse, Cortney thought as she pulled a pair of jeans and a black shirt off the wooden hangers. She turned to walk out, when she spotted a broomstick leaning beside the door.
A Halloween witch’s broomstick!
“It’s just decoration,” Cortney mumbled. Don’t get all freaky! she told herself. Ignore it. Take a bath, get dressed and wait for Mildred to arrive to take you to dinner.
Cortney didn’t mean to grab the broom’s handle. It just happened. One moment her hand was empty, the next moment she held the broomstick. She opened her hand to drop it, but the broomstick clung to her palm as though glued there. In a panic, Cortney dropped the jeans and blouse and ran out of the closet with the broomstick stuck to her hand.
“Meow?” Tom Cat said.
“The darn thing is stuck to my hand. It must be covered with glue,” Cortney said as she looked at the cat. “Do something,” she demanded and instantly felt silly asking the cat for help.
Tom Cat licked his right paw.
“Dumb cat! Who am I kidding? You can’t understand a word I say,” Cortney called out angrily.
“Meow.”
Cortney ignored Tom Cat and examined the broomstick. As she looked at it, Cortney realized that it felt warm in her hand, like a living thing. I’m having a psychotic episode. That’s it. I’m imagining I can't let go of the broomstick.
Cortney took a deep breath and relaxed. Then she imagined the broomstick dropping to the floor.
Immediately the broomstick slipped out of her hand and fell to the floor.
“Meow.”
Cortney glanced at Tom Cat. The cat had his attention focused on the broomstick.
“It really wasn’t stuck to my hand,” Cortney mumbled. She touched her fingers of her other hand to the palm that had held the broomstick. She didn’t feel any glue. It was all in her imagination.
Stepping over the broomstick, Cortney walked back into the closet to pick up the jeans and blouse. She eyed the broomstick carefully as she stepped over it on the way to the bathroom. She arrived just in time to turn the water off before the tub overflowed.
“Just what I need, to flood the house my first night here,” Cortney mumbled.
“Meow?”
“Nothing. I’m not talking to you. And I don’t need you. I’m not a witch. That is a fact I know for sure,” Cortney said as she glanced over at Tom Cat. “And, if I’m not a witch, then you aren’t a familiar.”
“Meow.”
“You are just vocal like a Siamese cat. I say something and you meow. Frank just said familiar when he meant to say family,” Cortney said as she walked into the bathroom and closed the door.
Chapter Four
Cortney glanced cautiously at the bowl of stew that Mildred placed in front of her. Chunks of mystery meat floated in a dark broth along with carrots, celery, and diced potatoes. Along with the stew, Mildred served a small loaf of dark bread and a hunk of smelly cheese.
“No canned pasta Os in tomato sauce?” Cortney asked as she glanced down the long table at Frank seated at the other end.
“Morticia insisted that we eat wholesome food, not canned food,” Frank replied. He spoke in a loud voice in order to be heard.
“What kind of meat is this?” Cortney asked as she pushed a chunk of the meat with her spoon.
“Alligator. It tastes like chicken,” Frank said and chuckled at his joke.
“Chickens don’t swim in murky water and eat possums,” Cortney replied.
“No, they run around the pastures and peck corn out of cow dung,” Frank replied.
“The cheese is smelly. What kind of cheese is it?” Cortney asked.
“Goat cheese,” Frank replied.
“Hmm, I think you should wash the goats,” Cortney said as she lifted a spoon of the stew. She looked at the stew a moment before she tasted it. “It’s good, but it doesn’t taste like chicken,” she called out to Frank as Mildred poured red wine into her glass from a carafe. “So, Frank, why such a long table?”
“Morticia used to entertain occasionally, and the council meetings are held here in the dining room,” Frank said as he took a sip of his wine.
“Meow.”
Cortney glanced down at Tom Cat. The black cat had milk on his whiskers. His bowl of milk was still half full.
“Do you allow Tom Cat to drink wine?” Cortney asked.
“No, he gets in enough mischief as it is without getting drunk,” Frank replied.
“Meow,” Tom Cat seemed to plead.
“Mildred, bring me a small bowl,” Cortney said.
The crone arrived a moment later with a bowl.
“Pour Tom Cat a little wine,” Cortney ordered. She glanced down the table at Frank. “He’s my cat,” Cortney added.
Frank didn’t respond as he grimaced, while he watched Mildred pour wine into Tom Cat’s bowl.
“Oh, I found a broomstick in the closet,” Cortney said between spoons of stew.
“Good, you can use it to sweep your room and save Mildred the trouble,” Frank said.
“It’s not a normal broomstick, at least not like the ones I purchase at the hardware store,” Cortney explained. “It looks more like a witch’s broom used to decorate a porch for Halloween.”
“If it’s a common broom, sweep your room with it. And, if it’s a witch’s broom, ride around your room with it,” Frank said. He didn’t look up from his bowl of stew.
“So, it’s not a witch’s broomstick?” Cortney tried to get a straight answer from the scar-faced butler.
“I haven’t seen it, so I can’t say,” Frank said.
“Are you saying that there’s such a thing as a witch’s broomstick? One that you can sit on and fly?” Cortney asked.
“No comment,” Frank said as he lifted his wine glass and took a big sip.
“Did you accompany my aunt from Walachia to America?” Cortney asked.
Frank looked at Cortney as though he couldn’t decide whether to answer the question.
“Yes,” he finally said.
“What year did Aunt Morticia come to America?”
Frank didn’t answer.
“What was the name of the doctor that sewed you back together?” Cortney asked.
Frank remained silent.
“What? Can’t remember? Are you getting senile?” Cortney baited Frank.
“Dr. Stein. Yes, Dr. Stein. Now, will you stop with the silly questions?” Frank declared as he cut off a slice of cheese from the chunk next to his plate.
I think I better not talk about Frank’s doctor or his accident, Cortney thought.
“Who do you think poisoned Aunt Morticia?”
Frank twitched in his seat as though the question made him uneasy.
“Surely you have some theory as to who the murderer is, Frank?”
“Morticia was poisoned during lunch with the council members. It could have been any of the five council members at the meeting,” Frank said.
“Okay, that’s a start. Was anyone else in the house at the time of Aunt Morticia’s death?”
“Just Mildred and I,” Frank replied.
“What dish did the killer poison?” Cortney asked.
“Poached salmon. Well, the caper sauce that Morticia puts over her salmon. Everyone else had the salmon with the mustard sauce. Mildred’s mustard sauce is famous. However, Morticia likes a simple caper sauce.”
“So, the poison was in the caper sauce, which only Morticia ate?” Cortney asked.
“And Tom Cat. She gave him a chunk of her salmon with a little caper sauce,” Frank said.
“Tom Cat. Okay, if Tom Cat died from poisoning, how is it that he’s here drinking wine?”
“He’s your Tom Cat, not Morticia’s Tom Cat,” Frank said.
“You mean like he’s a brother of Morticia’s Tom Cat?” Cortney asked.
Frank grabbe
d his head with his hands. “Stop asking questions. You make my head hurt!” Frank shouted. He stood up and glared at Cortney. “You know nothing! Nothing!” Frank shouted as he turned and stalked out of the dining room.
“Meow.”
“If you are asking for more wine, the answer is no,” Cortney said as she broke off the end of the loaf of bread. I guess I might as well try some of the stinky cheese, Cortney thought as she sliced a piece off the hunk of cheese. She bit into the slice of cheese ready to spit it onto her plate if she didn’t like the taste. Hmm, I like it, Cortney thought.
As she ate the cheese, Cortney’s thoughts drifted to who murdered her aunt. The five councilmen were the top suspects along with anyone else in the house at the time of Morticia’s death. She asked herself it that meant that Frank and Mildred were suspects since they were in the house. Cortney decided that they weren’t suspects until proven otherwise.
Was her aunt killed for money? Who had something to gain from her death? The money would have gone to Bayou George if Frank hadn’t contacted Cortney. Who were the five councilmen? Did one of them have something to gain from her aunt’s death? Cortney decided to ask these questions to the police when she visited the police station tomorrow, despite Frank’s warning to investigate the case herself. Maybe the police already had a person of interest in the poisoning? She hoped that would be the case. Frank thought that whoever killed Morticia might also try to kill her. She hoped he was mistaken.
“M-e-o-w.”
“Are you drunk, Tom Cat?”
“M-e-o-w.”
“So, you are a tom cat that can’t hold his liquor,” Cortney said and giggled. “Oops, maybe I had a little too much wine too.”
“Miss Cortney, are you finished eating?” Mildred suddenly appeared beside her and asked.
“You and Tom Cat seem to have a knack for skipping from place to place like a stone across water,” Cortney said as she got up from the table.
“Do you need me to escort you to your room?” the crone asked as she held the front of her apron in her hands.
“No, I’m capable of finding my room,” Cortney said. She paused to look down at Tom Cat. “I’m not carrying you upstairs. If you’re too drunk to walk, you can sleep it off in the dining room.”