Grave Alchemy

by Amanda Armour

  Basil dug his claws into my shoulder, prompting me to begin the story we had concocted. “Oh, that’s odd, he mentioned you quite a few times. He said how wonderful you were to work for. I got the impression that he had a crush on you and he implied that you were receptive to his advances.”

  Francesca stroked her hair and tilted her head slightly upward. “The male ego never ceases to amaze me. While his interest was flattering, I’d draw the line at being receptive. Men are just naturally attracted to me and it can become tiresome. Something I’m sure you don’t have to deal with.” Her unblinking eyes shifted toward Basil. “You might want to get rid of that bird, it isn’t doing you any favors.”

  Well, she definitely has Natasha’s personality. I’d often wondered why some women felt the need to throw insults around. Maybe it was just a way to make themselves feel superior. No one could accuse me of having a thick skin—in fact, it was just the opposite. But I had learned that the best way to handle the barbs was to just ignore them.

  “Anyway.” Francesca’s gaze focused back on me as she continued. “You were asking about Ben. Our relationship was purely professional, aside from the few times we commiserated over our domineering fathers. He mentioned someone, I think he said her name was Annie, or something like that. She had an overprotective uncle.”

  “That sounds like my sister.” I found it hard to believe that Felix had talked to her about Annie. Why would he mention her and Uncle Iggy? Basil shifted his weight and clamped my ear in his beak. I probably shouldn’t have mentioned that she was my sister.

  “Does it really?” Francesca’s lips thinned and her eyes narrowed, “He told me that this uncle scared the pants off him, when he was younger. Apparently, he still threatens anyone who comes sniffing around. He sounds a lot like my father.”

  “My uncle does have that effect on people.” Well, that explained a lot. Like why I went dateless throughout high school. I wonder what else Felix, aka Ben, had told her. I hadn’t seen Felix in years, but Annie had. “I don’t think that slowed Annie down much. Did Ben say anything else about her?”

  “Just that she knew what he was up to and brushed it off, that he was all bark and no bite. Just the opposite of my father.”

  “I’m not surprised, Annie always gets what she wants,” I laughed. “He’s still protective. It got out of hand when we were younger, but he took his role as our guardian very seriously.”

  “Yes, I’m sure he did. They all start with honorable intentions. Don’t they?”

  Francesca relaxed as she told us stories about her father, but the tone of her voice suggested that they were not happy memories. I sidetracked her by asking about Ben’s role as a supervisor, and she told us that Ben had applied for a job with her father’s company. He was impressed with him but he didn’t have an opening at the time.

  “Father suggested that I hire Ben for my new project. I didn’t need any help, but when Father insists I can’t refuse. He was doing an okay job supervising our daily activities. But he seemed to want more—responsibility, that is. He put in a lot of unnecessary overtime. When I questioned him about it, he said he just wanted to make a good impression. He’d be in the warehouse at all hours and I started wondering what he was up to. I think he was spying on me—for my father.”

  “Why would your father be spying on you?”

  “Like I said, he likes to be in control. He was probably checking up on me. But enough about my father, you came here about Ben. I’m afraid there’s nothing else I can tell you, except that it was a shock to hear he died.”

  “Anything you can tell us about his recent movements, or people he was involved with would help.” I was hoping to get her to reveal why she had hired Tom Flinders, and I wasn’t doing a very good job of it.

  “I’ve really no idea. Aside from my employees, I can’t think of anyone.”

  Our plan to befriend Francesca wasn’t working. Aside from finding out that Felix had worked a lot of overtime and that she hated her father, we hadn’t learned much. Even though I knew it would get me kicked out, I asked anyway. “So, you’ve no idea who killed him or why?”

  Francesca’s lips hardened into a thin smile. “No, I’ve no idea. Why would you think I would?”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. I meant, did you have any passing thoughts? When I hear about someone dying, I always wonder what happened. It’s just idle curiosity, I guess.”

  “You must have a lot of spare time on your hands,” Francesca replied icily.

  I rose to say goodbye. “Well, thank you for seeing us.” This hadn’t been a complete waste of time, but we were no closer to finding out what Felix had been up to.

  As Francesca opened the door, she hesitated and turned back. “I just remembered, I did see him with someone the day he died. I’ve no idea who it was, but I remember that scar. It ran down the side of his face.”

  A fleeting smirk crossed Francesca’s lips just before it turned into a smug smile. She looked very pleased with herself. It had to be the same man we had caught in the council file room—no one would miss the scar. And I think he was the person I’d seen in Phineaus Pratt’s backyard. Francesca wasn’t aware that Ben was actually Felix the reaper. And she didn’t know that we had talked to Tom Flinders.

  “A strange man with a scar. Thank you, Francesca.”

  “She’s creepy,” Basil said. He’d shifted to his normal form when we were back in the car.

  “And scary; I wouldn’t want to run into her in a dark alley. I got the impression that she hates her father, and she actually believes Felix was spying for him. Talk about paranoid.”

  “Not just paranoid—she’s hiding something.”

  “I agree. I still don’t get it though, what Felix was doing working for her?”

  “What if he really was working for her father, Bruno?”

  “As a spy? I don’t think so. Why would he hire Felix when he could use his own thugs to spy on her? And that last comment about the man with a scar was odd. She looked so smug.”

  Chapter 13

  “What are you looking at?” I asked as I flopped onto the sectional. Basil had been staring at his computer for over an hour, surfing the web.

  “I’m searching the dark web.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s a secret area of the web, you need an invitation to access it,” Basil replied. “I’m looking for anyone interested in buying or selling souls.”

  “But that’s illegal!”

  “Yeah. It’s called the dark web for a reason, all the deals are pretty shady. It’s a giant bazaar where you can buy anything creepy, weird or illegal.”

  “Did you find anything?”

  “Just a few listings. Did you know how much souls sell for? A small fortune.”

  I jumped up and peered over Basil’s shoulder at the listing. “This is great. You can find out who they are, right?”

  “Wrong. Everyone who uses it is untraceable. That’s the whole idea—to be anonymous. I’ll contact one of the sellers. It’s a long shot but they might agree to a meeting.”

  “Well, that sounds like a waste of time. Anyway, I heard from Walter. One of the missing souls was trapped in the globe we found, and they’ve sealed the manuscripts in the vaults. The good news is that no more souls have gone missing, but the number of not dead is growing, and they have no idea how or why.”

  “It must be the scrolls. Either the system is screwed up or someone is deliberately messing with it,” Basil replied as he grabbed the remote and scrolled through the television listings.

  “Someone has to be messing with the scrolls. Felix was murdered, and if it was just a screwed up system, there’d be no reason to kill him.”

  “There would be if Felix knew who was doing it and tried to blackmail them.”

  Annie came into the attic and flopped down beside me. “Hey guys. What a day. I’m glad it’s almost over. They released Felix’s body today, I’ll be preparing him tomorrow. How was your day?”r />
  “Not too exciting.” I shrugged. “That weird globe we found in Phineaus Pratt’s house contained a captured soul, so the SIB took custody of it. Then we visited Felix’s boss Francesca Santoro, and Basil is trying to contact sellers offering souls, on the dark web.”

  “So there’s no reason you can’t clear up that paperwork; you haven’t touched it since you got home. There’s a bunch of invoices and bills waiting for you.”

  I groaned at the thought of the mind numbing task. “Fine, I’ll get started tonight.”

  Annie had understated the amount of work piled on my desk; there was enough paper to keep me occupied for hours. I’d worked my way through the bills and was just tackling the outstanding statements, when I heard a faint scratching noise echoing down the hall. I swiveled my chair around to look out the door—it must have been a mouse using the wall cavities as a highway. Ten minutes later, as my eyes were starting to cross with fatigue, a loud bang startled me awake.

  “If that’s you Basil, it’s not working,” I yelled. Basil was probably bored and figured I’d be an easy mark for one of his jokes. Trying to scare me in a dark funeral home was pretty lame though. Ooh scary, no way I was falling for that one. I got up and crept to the door; two could play at that game. It was still light out when I had started working and I hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights. Now it was late, and the hallway was pitch black. I flipped on the light switch and jumped into the hall. “Aha, caught ya.” No one answered, I looked around but I couldn’t see Basil anywhere. Goose bumps formed on my arms and a prickling sensation crept up my neck.

  A loud crunch came from the direction of the back door, and then another boom as the back door slammed into the wall. The urge to hide was overwhelming, and the only place I could think to go was the basement. I really didn’t want to go down there, but it would be safer than staying here. A dark shadow floated along the floor at the end of the hallway, suggesting that I didn’t have much time. I flicked the lights off and sprinted for the basement. After waving my card at the reader, and waiting for what felt like an eternity for the lock to release, I finally scrambled through. The hydraulic door fought against me as I attempted to pull it closed. It was inches away from sealing when the resistance suddenly increased, someone was pulling from the other side. I was shifting down a step—still pulling with all my strength—when the door was torn from my hands. My feet flew out from under me, and I performed an inelegant, slow motion face plant. A shadowy figure appeared in the doorway, followed by a flash of light and two loud bangs. Something hot whizzed by my head as I flipped over and reached for the handrail. I pulled my arm back in and slid down a few steps where I took stock of my injuries: a sore shoulder and wrist, a bruised ankle, and last but not least, a splitting headache.

  What sounded like a violent fight had begun upstairs. I heard someone cursing a blue streak, the thumping of flesh and what sounded like furniture being smashed. I assumed it was Basil coming to my rescue, but when a shot rang out and something or someone fell to the floor, I realized that it wasn’t him. The pounding of running feet echoed down from above and an eerie silence followed, a few seconds later the security alarm began to wail. That was odd—I'd turned off the alarm when I came in—I was always tripping the darned thing. I pulled myself up and held onto both handrails as I eased my way down the stairs. My wrist twinged painfully as I reached out to flip on the lights. I limped over to the chair beside the vacant embalming table; at least I wouldn’t have a corpse staring at me. Come to think of it, I might have been the next client on that table. I reached up to push my hair back and felt water running down my cheek. Great, we’d sprung a leak, and now I’d have to call a plumber. I reached up to wipe it away and winced. When I looked at my hand, I realized it wasn’t water but blood pouring down my face. Who knew a head wound could produce that much blood? Guess I’d have to add that to my list of injuries.

  This was the first time in twenty years that I’d ventured into a mortuary. I shuddered as the memory of mutilated bodies transported me back in time. As a child, I had a vivid imagination, and after reading ‘King Solomon’s Mines,’ I decided I was going to be the world’s greatest explorer. I would be the one to discover where the elusive Graveley Diamond was hidden. Uncle Iggy gave me free rein to explore all areas of the house save one—the basement. Eventually, my obsession with the hunt drove me to disobedience. While exploring the basement storage rooms I saw what appeared to be a tunnel, hidden behind a block of ice. My excitement built as I crawled through the damp passage and exited into a dimly lit space. When I stood up I realized that I hadn’t found a secret room, but the mortuary, and it was overflowing with mutilated bodies. The shock caused me to stumble backward, and when I reached for support, I inadvertently knocked a lever. A metal door slammed to the ground—blocking the tunnel. I rushed to the door on the opposite wall, panicking when it would’t open —I was trapped and alone. I cowered under a desk until I heard someone giggling, when I looked up the soul of a young boy was grinning at me. This was my first encounter with a soul, and when he asked what I was doing, I told him about the treasure hunt. His name was Ryan, he kept me company—and sane—until the mortician returned. As the years went by and the responsibilities mounted, my dream faded into the background. The Graveley diamond was lost forever.

  I pondered heading back upstairs, but when I reached for the key card dangling from my neck, I realized it’d cracked during my fall. I eased back into the chair with a sigh; the basement door was a blessing and a curse. I was trapped in the mortuary again, but this time no souls were around to entertain me. One of Annie’s bright ideas was to install a security door, the kind that required a card to open. I only agreed to it because a small child had once wandered down the stairs during a visitation. Annie had been in the middle of preparing a body and the kid freaked out. I didn't have an issue with the new door—until now—since I rarely went down to the basement. Now I was stuck, with no way to call for help because I’d left my phone on my desk. While I wondered what to do next, it occurred to me that there must be a landline down here—I had just paid that bill. I got up and limped my way over to Annie’s office.

  “Felix!” I exclaimed. He was hovering beside Annie’s desk when I opened the office door.

  He turned to me with a look of horror. “Zoey, Is that you? What happened to you? You’re kind of pale and leaking blood all over the place.”

  “Ha ha. I’m not dead. You are. Why are you hanging around here?”

  “I’m not sure. I guess I followed my body. You know it’s interesting, seeing things from a soul’s perspective.”

  “Do you remember what happened to you?” My vision dimmed, and I felt a prickling sensation in my head. I lurched toward the chair and managed to sit down before I collapsed. “Would you go and find Annie please? I don’t feel so good.”

  Felix looked up and exclaimed, “Who are you?”

  “Who are you?” Basil responded, as he flew down the stairs. Without waiting for an answer, he landed in front of me. “Are you alright, Z? You don’t look so good.”

  I moved my head too fast, causing it to throb. “How did you know I was down here? And how did you open the door?”

  “When the alarm went off, I came over to check it out. It must have been quite the fight, cause there’s a dead guy in the hallway. I saw two guys running away, I caught one, but the other one jumped in a car and escaped. You should have heard the language coming out of the guy I caught. He used words that I didn’t even know existed. Anyway, he said he’d locked you in the basement, that you were hurt. So I dropped him and came to get you.”

  “My key card broke when I fell down the stairs. That stupid door locks by itself, so I was stuck here. You still didn’t say how you got in.”

  “Doesn’t matter. You need help. I’ll go tell Annie that you’re down here. Sounds like the cops have arrived.” With that, Basil disappeared up the stairs.

  I turned back to Felix, “I don’t understand why you’re
here, someone should have picked you up. Wasn’t someone assigned to you?”

  “There was someone, but I didn’t know him, he had a dark aura. I remember panicking, I was sure something bad was going to happen. So I ran.”

  “You can see auras? I never knew that. Do you remember what happened to you, like who shot you? You know you were murdered, right?”

  “Murdered? Well, that sucks. I remember being excited. I was going somewhere important, to help an old friend. Then nothing, till the creep showed up.” Felix’s grin turned into a sad smile. “How’s Annie?”

  “She’s fine. Why did you go rogue? You were doing so well.”

  Felix sighed. “I screwed up with Annie. I couldn’t tell her why, it’s a secret.”

  “I don’t think secrets matter too much right now. It might explain what happened to you though.”

  “I was sworn to secrecy. I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you,” Felix grinned and threw his head back, as he burst into laughter.

  “That line is so old.” He’d always had an ironic sense of humor, and some things never changed. “Basil and I went to see Francesca today.”

  “Who’s Basil?”

  “I forgot, he didn’t introduce himself did he? He’s the gargoyle that was just here; we met up in Oregon. He’s a gargoyle shifter.”

  “Those are unbelievably rare. You know you can’t trust gargoyles, don’t you?”

  “So I’ve been told. Felix, do you remember the password for your tablet?”

  “Yeah, Why do you want to know?”

  “Just checking your memory. What is it?”

  “It’s PBay2005. Oregon’s a great place to live. I heard Sasha moved here.”

  “Who’s Sasha?”

  “You know. Natasha from Oregon. I used to know her, years ago. We were close for a while but she…”

  Felix began to fade away. I tried to get him to finish what he was saying, but he disappeared. I was left wondering why he had ignored my comment about Francesca. Did he not remember her? And what was he going to say about Natasha? My vision faded to black, putting an end to my musings.