Night of the Blackbird

by Heather Graham

  A smile twitched her lips. So what if Danny, her brother and Josh were here? She was in a crowd; she was safe. She just needed to steer clear of Danny. She was going to make the day a pleasant one.

  “All right, we’ll head on out.”

  “The restaurant is completely decorated. Leprechauns—and the usual stuffed wiccans, ladies in black, none on broomsticks—are decorated with green bows. Marty also owns House of Haunts. It’s a year-round spook house, but he’s added some extra banshees, evil leprechauns and green-glowing skeletons for Saint Paddy’s Day. He says you’re welcome to run tape there, as well.”

  “I’m for it. But lunch first. So how do we get to this place?” Josh asked.

  “Straight down the mall. The restaurant is across the street in a quaint little eighteenth-century house. The horror house is right next door.”

  “Well, since we’re all still standing here, I’ll do the heading on out,” Patrick offered. As he started out the door, the Pelhams—Randall and Meg, Sally’s palm readers—came slipping through the door. They were both at least sixty and could have passed for thirty. Randall’s head was shaved, and he had a Yul Brenner look. Meg had apparently been born with the kind of platinum blond hair that turned to shimmering silver with age. She had an abundance of it, streaming down her back and over the long black cloak she wore. Sally explained that she was off to lunch and they headed for the door.

  “Moira,” Meg called just at the last moment.

  She stopped, looking back.

  “Have a nice lunch. But be careful. There’s a darkness around you.”

  “A darkness?” Moira murmured.

  Meg looked worried. “Just avoid darkness. Scoot, go, go. I’m sorry I stopped you.”

  Moira gave Meg a quick kiss on the cheek and hurried out. The others followed. As they headed down the street, she realized Danny was right behind her. It was that aftershave. She knew it so well.

  “Hey,” she accused him suddenly and angrily as he came up beside her. “I asked you to help my father.”

  “Your father is fine. He’s with Liam, Chrissie is there, Colleen was on her way down, and Jeff and the band were coming in early, in case they needed to help out.”

  “Really? You talked to my dad?”

  “I did, and so did your brother.”

  “Why are you here?”

  “I’m worried about you.”

  “Why? I seem safe enough when you’re not around.”

  He caught her shoulders, swinging her around to face him. “You really think I’d push you under a subway?”

  She stared at him stubbornly, her chin in the air. The others were ahead of them and kept walking, unaware of the drama playing out behind them.

  “Moira, I’m a writer. I put things on paper. Is Stephen King a mass murderer? Is Dean Koontz a psychotic killer?”

  “Let’s just have a nice lunch, Danny.”

  “Yeah, right. And when we get back, why don’t you search my room, see what else you can find?”

  She ignored him, pulling away and hurrying to catch up with the others.

  A few minutes later they arrived at Martin McMurphy’s restaurant. He greeted them with pleasure. He was tall, sandy-haired, freckled and immensely charming. As they walked to the table, Moira nudged Sally. “There’s an adorable guy for you.”

  “He’s a great friend, but I’m afraid his boyfriend likes him, too.”

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry, they’re both two of the best friends I’ve ever had.” Sally laughed. “You’ll meet Dirk later. He works in the haunted house.”

  They sat at a table done up with a green tablecloth, green napkins and leprechaun salt and pepper shakers. The place was usually a theme café, with model monsters, gargoyles, fake spider webs in the corners and little plastic rats to hold the menus. Now the witches and goblins were all decked out in green.

  Martin waited on them himself. As they waited for the meal, Michael produced a release form, and then Josh followed Martin and Moira around the room, filming. When the food arrived, they all took their places at the table again. The food was delicious, and the green beer was crisp and cold. Coffee was served with McMurphy’s Finest Shortbread, and no one was able to pick up the check because McMurphy refused to give them one.

  “But we’re a crowd,” Sally protested.

  “And this is the best kind of business expense,” Martin retorted.

  “This has been wonderful, but we’ve got to be getting back, I’m afraid,” Moira said.

  “You’ve got to do the haunted house first,” Sally told her. “It only takes a few minutes.”

  “Dirk will be waiting for you,” Martin insisted.

  “Do you mind if we tape in the haunted house?” Moira asked him.

  “I want you to go in and become delightfully spooked,” he said. “No taping—I can’t give away my trade secrets. Besides, scary things aren’t so scary in the light.”

  They thanked him for his hospitality and headed for the spook house next door. There they were met by Dirk. He was tall and striking, with dark eyes and hair, fine cheekbones and a quick smile. He kissed Sally’s cheek and smiled broadly as everyone was introduced. “All right, then, I guess I should give my usual spiel. Being a little bit scared is fun, being really frightened is not. This doesn’t look like a crowd to be really frightened. Or even scared,” he said with a sigh. “But if anyone is upset at all, just yell, and we’ll get you right out into the open air, okay?

  “And now…” He swept his arm dramatically through the air, gave a low bow and opened another door, ushering them in.

  The place was well done, with black lights and realistic effects. Moira walked in with Sally, and they paused together in the first room, the den of Bram Stoker, who was writing while horrid visions of vampires danced on the walls. The next room highlighted the contrast between the witch of legend and the true wiccan, who honored the earth as the mother and respected all things within the universe. Next came a room filled with werewolves, vampires, demons, mummies and, special for the upcoming holiday, crazed leprechauns and evil banshees. A vampire was bent over a bed where a beautiful young woman slept in a silk gown. As Moira went to study the tableau, both the victim and the vampire suddenly turned, the woman dripping fake blood, the vampire snarling. Moira let out a startled scream, and her brother, Michael, Josh and Danny were instantly at her side.

  “Moira?” Patrick said.

  “I was startled.” She laughed. The vampire and victim had resumed their deadly pose, as if they had never moved.

  “There are live performers throughout,” Sally told them. “Those two should get a raise.”

  Danny was right behind Moira. She rushed ahead, not wanting to be close to him. Michael had asked Sally something, and the two were walking together, deep in conversation, while Josh told Patrick that they really should do a separate show on Salem.

  They entered a room with psychedelic lighting and a floor that rotated. Moira moved quickly, wanting to shake Danny. She found herself spinning, then emerged into a pretend graveyard. Mist rolled across tombstones. Banshees swept through the air, letting out mournful cries. A figure dressed as the grim reaper suddenly leaped out from behind one of the tombstones. Moira jumped, startled again, but she smiled rather than screamed as the figure circled her, not touching her but tapping his scythe on the floor. “You guys are good,” she told him softly, moving on. The grim reaper didn’t say a word, just walked among the tombstones, ready to startle the next guest. Moira hurried on, hearing the revolving floor rotate, bringing the rest of her party from beyond.

  She passed through a doorway hung with fluttering gray silk.

  Here was a church scene, with mourners standing by an open grave. Above the dead man floated another of the black-draped banshees.

  She walked through another doorway and found herself in a hall. Eerily lit signs pointed in either direction. She moved to the right and found a door warning of the dangers of the countryside.
In this scene, there was misted light and a rainbow. A leprechaun sat on a pot of gold at the foot of the rainbow. But as she approached, something triggered the leprechaun. He spun around, offering a face of pure evil. There was something so eerie about his expression that she suddenly found herself uncomfortable. She quickly exited the room and returned to the hallway, only to find herself completely turned around, and going back the way she had come.

  She found herself in the graveyard again. Music played, low and macabre. “Sally? Guys?” she called softly. It seemed they had come and gone. “Hello?” she murmured, hoping the black-clad grim reaper would reappear to show her the way out.

  Nothing. The banshees floated by, singing in a high-pitched wail that made her flesh crawl.

  “Damn it!” she muttered, and started for a doorway. A sixth sense warned her that she was being followed. She spun. The grim reaper. “There you are. I don’t believe it, but I’m lost. Can you show me the way out?”

  He walked past her and stopped, blocking the doorway.

  Suddenly he drew his black-clad arm from beneath his cloak. The light caught on something in his hand. A knife. A big knife, glittering in the dim light.

  “No need for that, I’m already scared,” she told him.

  She gasped, stunned, as he reached out and grabbed her, twisting her into his arms. She felt the blade of the knife at her throat. A ragged whisper touched her ear as he pulled her close against him.

  “Iss binn beal ’na thost!”

  Despite the blade at her throat, Moira screamed.

  17

  The creature shoved her forward. Moira raced through the door and down the hallway, took the wrong turn and burst into the rainbow room again.

  The leprechaun turned, grinning evilly.

  The right, the right, she had to go to the right to get out. But somehow she found herself in the graveyard again, colliding in the dim light with a man. She screamed.

  “Moira, it’s me.”

  Danny. He gripped her shoulders, shaking her slightly. “Why did you walk off like that? We’ve all been going in circles, looking for you.”

  Lights suddenly came on. The grim reaper—revealed as a tousle-haired college kid with his hood and mask removed—came rushing into the graveyard scene, followed by Dirk. “Moira, I’m so sorry. Are you all right? You rushed on ahead. What on earth frightened you so badly?”

  Glaring lights betrayed the fact that the gravestones were nothing more than foam and the flying banshees black-clad figures on strings as the others came rushing in. Michael and Sally came from the revolving floor behind her, Patrick and Josh from the forward doorway.

  She stared at the grim reaper. “He threatened me with a knife!”

  “Adam?” Dirk said with bewilderment and anger, staring at the kid.

  “I didn’t threaten anyone with a knife,” the boy protested, and looked at Moira earnestly. “Honestly, I only carry the scythe. And it’s rubber—look.” He proceeded to show her how the blade of his weapon moved, bending at his slightest touch.

  “Someone threatened me,” she murmured. “With a real knife. And he—”

  Sally came over to her, wrapping her arms around her. “Moira, I’m so sorry. We should have all stayed together. But none of the employees ever carry real weapons. Ever.”

  Moira realized that they were all staring at her. She was never going to convince them that she hadn’t managed to let her imagination get out of control.

  Michael came up to her then, putting his arms around her. “Maybe a haunted house wasn’t such a great idea right after the death of a friend,” he murmured, smoothing her hair.

  She allowed him to hold her and turned in his arms, looking at Sally and the three men before her, Danny, her brother and Josh. She was suddenly certain that none of Dirk’s employees had threatened her. And someone here knew she wasn’t lying.

  Whichever one of them had threatened her.

  “Iss binn beal ’na thost,” she said softly, repeating the Gaelic words the attacker had whispered. “A silent mouth is melodious.”

  “A silent mouth is melodious?” Michael asked, frowning as he tightened his arms around her securely. His tone, however, suggested that, despite his longing to have faith in her, he was losing it. “Moira, honey, what is that?”

  “An Irish proverb,” Patrick said, watching his sister and looking puzzled. “My grandmother used it often enough when we were kids.”

  “When my folks said it, it meant shut the hell up,” Sally said lightly.

  “Sweetheart, that’s not really a threat,” Michael said softly. “It’s rather pretty. An Irish proverb. I like it.”

  “Dirk,” Sally said, “I guess we should get out of here.”

  “Yes, of course. Adam, it’s all right. Take a few minutes. We won’t let any more groups through for a while.”

  “Thanks,” Adam said, but he still hesitated, approaching Moira but maintaining a safe distance from her. “I’m real sorry if I frightened you.”

  “You didn’t,” she told him.

  He frowned, nodded and passed by. She could just imagine what he would have to say if he was with friends and happened to flick a television to the Leisure Channel and catch her show. “Man, I met that lady once, and let me tell you, she is one pathetic wacko!”

  “Come this way,” Dirk said. “I’ll get you all out of here.”

  They followed him. With the lights on, Moira saw how small the place really was, and how unbelievably unrealistic. He led them into a gift shop that led to the front porch of the house.

  “Look, I’m really sorry. I should have kept you together and stayed right with you,” Dirk said.

  Sally put a hand on his arm. “It’s all right. Moira doesn’t usually overreact like this. She’s been under a lot of stress.”

  “I haven’t been under stress,” she insisted, knowing it was a lie.

  “Moira, going home after being away is always stressful. Especially when you’re Irish,” Sally murmured. “And then Seamus…Anyway, Dirk, thanks.”

  “You’re welcome, but I am so, so sorry,” he said again.

  Moira walked up to him. “Please, you and Martin have been wonderful. The restaurant is great, and this place is the best in Salem. Really. I look forward to coming back.”

  “Thanks.”

  “But we’ve got to get home. My dad will need help tonight, I’m certain,” Moira said.

  “Yes, we’ve got to get back,” Patrick said.

  Everyone began saying goodbyes. Moira escaped to the sidewalk with Sally and hugged her friend.

  “Honestly, Moira, I’m so—”

  “Please, don’t you dare tell me you’re sorry again. You’ve been wonderful. Listen, as soon as this Saint Patrick’s thing is over, we’ll make real plans to get together.” Sally nodded, and Moira glanced at her watch. “It really is getting late.”

  “I’ll go find the others.”

  Moira knew when Danny came up behind her a moment later.

  “I thought you didn’t speak Gaelic?” he said.

  She spun around. “You know, Danny, I can also tell you how to say kiss my ass in Gaelic but that doesn’t mean that I speak the language. Yes, I know a few words. I’ve heard it my whole life. Why? Was that you in there, testing me?”

  “What?”

  “Did you steal one of the costumes and threaten me, just so you could come out and call me a liar?”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “Moira, now you’re being absurd.”

  “Am I?”

  The others were coming out behind him. Moira walked past him, linking arms with Sally again. “Walk with me so I can have a few minutes with you before we take off. You know, it’s true, since we’ve both moved away, we hardly see one another anymore.”

  “Moira…”

  “I’m all right, really. Let’s move on ahead.”

  When they had gotten out of earshot, she asked Sally, “Where were you all when I went ahead? Still together?”

&nb
sp; “Um…wow, I’m not really certain. No, we weren’t actually all together. I was talking to Dirk in the Bram Stoker room. He was out of there like a bat out of hell when he heard you scream. Most of the walls in there are false. You can travel the whole place in a matter of minutes if you use the pathways behind the walls. I tried to follow him, and I think I came in by the other door. I don’t even remember right now. Why?”

  “I just wondered,” Moira said, frustrated, but trying not to let Sally see it.

  “Moira, it couldn’t have been a real knife. There aren’t any in the place.”

  “Well, I was definitely fooled.”

  “And why would someone threaten you with a knife, then come out with an old saying our grandparents used? I know there’s no one saner than you in this universe, but maybe you…maybe you have been working too hard.”

  “Maybe,” Moira agreed. She looked back, making sure the others were still a distance away. It was almost five o’clock; the streets were dark. Maybe they were even too far away. She didn’t like the darkness anymore. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to be with people or if she felt safer alone. She could see Josh and Michael carrying the cameras, with Danny and Patrick behind them. She looked at Sally again. “Please, don’t be worried about me. I’m fine. You’re sure you weren’t with anyone else?”

  “Well, yes, I told you, I was with Dirk.”

  Sally was perplexed. Moira decided that she wasn’t going to say any more—her questions weren’t getting her anywhere.

  As they crossed the street, Michael caught up with them. “We’re parked at the common, so I guess we should split up here.”

  “I guess,” Sally said. “Michael, it was so nice to get to meet you. And, Moira, please take it easy, and send your parents my love and sympathy.”

  As she spoke, Danny reached them.

  “Where are you parked?” he asked Michael.

  “At the common.”

  “Wait for us to drive around and we’ll follow you home.”

  “That isn’t necessary,” Michael told him.

  “I’d like to be behind my sister,” Patrick said, coming up.

  “We’re all going back to the same place,” Josh said, joining them. He took Sally’s hand, thanking her and telling her that it had been great to meet her.