“Teenagers?”
“That would be my guess,” Dan agreed. “The house has been standing empty for a long time.”
“Looks like they stuck to this one room.”
A picture window would have looked out onto the porch if it hadn’t been boarded over, but a few shafts of sunlight still managed to make their way in through knotholes and a long crack in a sheet of warped and weathered plywood. That was enough to reveal that one of the sofa cushions had a cigarette burn in its brocade upholstery.
“It’s a miracle they didn’t burn the place down.”
Holding the notepad so he could see the words, Liss wrote install new lock on back door.
“That’ll help,” he agreed.
“So what’s the verdict? Is this our haunted house?”
“The whole place is remarkably sound for having been shut up for so long. I didn’t find anything that raised a red flag.”
Liss pumped her hand in the air. “Yes!”
“But you’ve got your work cut out for you.”
She followed his gaze to the litter on the floor. “This isn’t so bad. A thorough sweeping will get rid of the mouse droppings and trash. Then we can pretty much leave the rest of this room as it is. I mean, just look at that chandelier.” Suspended from the high ceiling, it was festooned with cobwebs. “Half my decorating is already done if I just keep the lighting fixtures and the peeling wallpaper the way they are.”
“So the spiders get to live long and prosper, do they?” Dan slung an arm around her shoulders and joined her in regarding the elaborate glass chandelier above their heads.
Liss leaned back against him, redirecting her gaze from light fixture to husband. He was five inches taller than she, and years of construction work had left him with well-toned muscles and excellent upper body strength. She snuggled closer. At five-foot-nine she wasn’t exactly tiny, but Dan was big enough to make her feel delicate and feminine.
“I’ve got you to protect me, right?” She batted her eyelashes at him and grinned.
He chuckled. “I’d like to see the spider you couldn’t handle all by your lonesome.”
Liss was about to thank him for the compliment when she heard a whisper of sound from directly above her head. She glanced up in time to catch sight of something that was not a cobweb. It was not a piece of twine, either. It twitched. Then it disappeared, only to be replaced by a pair of close-set, predatory eyes—eyes that were not made of glass.
She was not particularly fanciful, nor was she squeamish, but the sound of little clawed feet moving over glass pendants gave her the willies. She darted sideways, dragging Dan after her, just as fine particles of dust drifted down over the spot where they had been standing.
“I can handle spiders and mice, but that was a rat!”
Since they had already retreated as far as the door to the hallway, Liss kept going. She didn’t stop until she was safely outside on the porch. Dan followed more slowly. If he was amused by her sudden panic, he was smart enough not to show it.
“I’ll take care of the rodent problem,” he promised as he locked the door.
Liss rewarded him with a quick but heartfelt kiss.
By the time they were back in Dan’s truck and heading for home, Liss was already adding items to her to-do list. First and foremost, the other members on her committee needed to see the Chadwick mansion for themselves, and the sooner the better. They had a lot to accomplish in just a few weeks. The haunted house, for all that it would be the centerpiece of the event, was only one of the attractions planned for the Moosetookalook All Hallows Festival.
Chapter Two
Lumpkin spat, hissed, and expanded to twice his normal size. Since he was a Maine Coon cat and weighed in at well over fifteen pounds on his slimmest day, he was a formidable sight.
The reason for his ill humor was a dog, Papelbon by name, a black and brown mutt of uncertain ancestry, although it probably included a splash of border collie. He belonged to Dan’s brother Sam.
In spite of the unfriendly reception, Papelbon wagged his plume of a tail and tried to touch noses with the outraged feline. Lumpkin took a swipe at the dog and missed. With a yip of surprise, he retreated behind Sam’s legs.
“Come out from there you yellow-bellied chicken.”
“Daddy!” Sam’s daughter Samantha, age nine, knelt beside Papelbon and flung her arms around his furry neck. “Don’t be so mean. That nasty old cat scared him.”
Papelbon licked her face.
Liss hid a grin as she scooped up the cat and slung him over her shoulder, thus clearing the way for Sam, Samantha, and Papelbon to enter the house “I’ll be right back,” she said as she started down the hall. “Make yourselves at home.”
Lumpkin growled low in his throat all the way to the kitchen. Liss carried him into the connecting pantry/utility room. “Sorry, sport,” she told the cat. “You’re confined to quarters for the duration. Live with it.” She had to move fast once she put him down, but she managed to shut the door before he could get past her. The unmistakable sound of claws scoring wood made her wince, but didn’t surprise her in the least.
Lumpkin was not adjusting well to his new home. He’d lived in the old one longer than Liss had and had not appreciated being uprooted. In retaliation, he’d reverted to one of his old bad habits—biting ankles. Then he’d picked up a new one—chewing on the furniture. Only that morning, Liss had discovered a hole in the upholstery at the back corner of Dan’s favorite chair. Ragged tufts of white fill stuck out through the opening and a chunk of fabric was missing in its entirety. Liss worried that Lumpkin had eaten it and that it would make him sick but, aside from bad temper, nothing appeared to be wrong with him.
“Sorry about the dog, Liss,” Sam apologized when she returned to the front hall. “Samantha didn’t want to leave him at the house alone.” Sam’s wife June, normally a stay-at-home mom, had been stuck down to Fallstown for the past week, taking care of her mother, who had just gotten out of the hospital following hip surgery.
“Not a problem,” Liss assured him. She bent down to pat Papelbon’s head.
“I’ll keep him with me so he won’t disrupt your meeting.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“If all goes well, we should finish work this afternoon.” Sam started up the stairs, Papelbon at his heels.
“That sounds even better.”
For the last few weekends, Sam had been helping his brother remodel the attic. When it was done, Liss would have a combination library and at-home office with floor-to-ceiling bookcases on every wall—enough space for all the books she owned with a little left over for future acquisitions. Even though she did sometimes download e-books to her laptop, she still preferred to read the old-fashioned way—curled up in a chair with a printed volume in her lap.
“Would you like some hot chocolate?” she called after Sam. “Or a cup of coffee?”
Man and dog kept going. “I’m good, thanks.”
A trifle nervously, Liss turned to face Samantha. She had not spent much time with her newly acquired niece. When it came right down to it, except for her eleven-year-old neighbor Beth Hogencamp, Liss had never had much to do with children.
Samantha watched her through narrowed eyes. Like all the Ruskins, she was tall with sandy brown hair. “You like cats better than dogs.” It was an accusation, not a question.
“Apples and oranges,” Liss said.
“What does that mean?”
The ringing doorbell saved Liss from trying to explain. “Go on into the living room and make yourself comfortable,” she told Samantha. “We’ll get started as soon as everyone arrives.”
It was just after three-thirty in the afternoon on a Monday, eight days after Liss’s first visit to the Chadwick mansion. It had taken that long for everyone on the Halloween committee to visit the house. Then, to schedule a meeting, they’d had to find a time when they were all free. Monday worked because most of the small businesses clustered around the town sq
uare were closed on that day to make up for staying open on Saturdays. The time of day was dictated by the school bus schedule. Samantha wasn’t the only young person on Liss’s team.
Two people stood on the porch. Liss’s close friend, Sherri Campbell, was dressed for work in the pale blue uniform of the Moosetookalook Police Department. A gun rode easily on her hip, despite the fact that in face and figure she looked far more like a former cheerleader than an officer of the law. She had her hand on the shoulder of a thin, blue-eyed, tow-headed eight-year-old boy, her son Adam Willett. He was Liss’s youngest recruit.
“Good afternoon, Adam,” Liss said. “What did you think of the haunted house?” He’d been the last committee member to visit it. The day before, Sherri and her husband Pete Campbell had taken him out to the mansion and given him the tour.
His bottom lip crept forward, but he wouldn’t meet Liss’s eyes. “Didn’t like it,” he mumbled.
Taken aback, Liss looked to Sherri for an explanation.
“Scared him,” she mouthed, but she was smiling.
“It’s just an old house.” Liss said in a bracing voice. “And we’re going to fix it up with all kinds of . . . of magic tricks. They won’t really be frightening. This is just pretend. Like the movies. It’ll be fun.”
“Magic?” He sounded doubtful.
“Like . . . like Harry Potter.” She’d read the books some time ago and had to struggle to think of an example that would reassure the little boy. “Just think of the most ridiculous thing you can and the scary stuff disappears. Right?”
“Don’t want to go back there,” Adam said.
“Then you won’t have to. You can be in charge of something else for Halloween. Okay?”
“Trick or treating?”
“Sure. Why not?”
He thought it over. “Okay.”
They were still standing in the doorway. Sherri gave her son a gentle shove to get him over the threshold. “Just send him to the PD when you’re done. I’m on the two-to-ten shift, but he can go up to the library and do his homework until Pete gets off work.” Adam’s stepfather was a Carrabassett County deputy sheriff.
“Will do.” Liss could see the redbrick municipal building from where she stood. In addition to the police department and the public library—the latter took up most of the second floor—it housed the town office and the fire department. It would take Adam less than two minutes to walk there.
Liss had barely settled the little boy on her living room sofa before the doorbell chimed again. On her way to answer it, she glanced around to see what Samantha was up to and found that her niece had unbent far enough to take off her backpack. It sat on the floor beside her as she examined an eight-inch-high Royal Doulton figurine of a nineteenth-century lady, one of the many collectibles displayed around the room.
For just a second, Liss flashed on the clutter at the Chadwick mansion. This is not the same, she assured herself. She kept souvenirs and gifts people had given her, and odds and ends her parents and grandparents had passed down to her, or that she’d inherited along with the house she’d lived in until she married Dan. But there were no stuffed birds or moose heads!
Liss’s treasures ranged from bisque cats—four of them—and Royal Doulton figurines—an even half dozen—to majolica-ware cups and saucers and antique bud vases, to small stuffed animals and two Buffy the Vampire Slayer action figures. Temporarily, all this bric-a-brac was set out in the living room. As soon as work was finished in the attic, most of it would be relocated.
The doorbell sounded as if someone was leaning on it. Liss increased her pace to a trot, but she’d barely set foot in the hallway when a dark streak sailed past her, barreling into the living room. Adam squealed in delight. Samantha let out a shriek of alarm.
A moment later, the girl uttered a shrill command. “Papelbon! Down!”
Papelbon woofed happily. Liss had a feeling that he obeyed about as well as her two cats did. For a nanosecond, she considered returning to the living room to help her niece. First things first, she decided, and flung the door open wide to put a stop to the annoying buzz of the bell.
She found herself face-to-face with a mouthful of gleaming white teeth—Gloria Weir’s wide, friendly, omnipresent smile. Bright-eyed and ginger-haired, Gloria was puppy-dog eager to make a place for herself in the tight-knit community of Moosetookalook. Shortly after she’d opened her hobby and craft store in the former Locke Insurance building, she’d joined the Moosetookalook Small Business Association. She’d faithfully attended every meeting. When Liss had asked for volunteers for the Halloween committee, Gloria’s hand had shot up. She’d all but bounced up and down in her seat in her anxiety to be among the chosen. She hadn’t needed to worry about being picked. She’d been the only one at the meeting to offer to help.
For a split second, hearing the commotion in the living room, Gloria’s smile faltered. “What on earth is going on in there?”
Dan thundered down the stairs, his dark eyes full of laughter. “Papelbon’s not so good with sit or stay,” he explained on his way past, “but apparently Samantha did teach him how to open doors.”
Sam followed more slowly, looking sheepish. “Sorry, Liss.”
Liss and Gloria entered the living room to find chaos. Papelbon danced around his young mistress, ignoring her command to sit, while Dan attempted, unsuccessfully, to catch hold of his collar. Samantha’s face scrunched up as if she might burst into tears at any moment. Her mouth opened in an expression of surprise as Glenora, the other cat in the household, emerged from beneath the recliner where she’d apparently been napping.
She was only half the size of Lumpkin, but still impressive—a pure black Maine Coon cat. The second Papelbon caught sight of her, he went into raptures, abandoning Samantha to investigate the newcomer. Glenora arched her back at his approach. She didn’t spit or hiss, but neither was she interested in making a new friend. With a fine display of disdain, she turned her back on the dog, flipped her long, luxuriant tail at him, and stalked out of the room.
Before Papelbon could chase after the cat, Sam grabbed hold of the dog’s collar. He sent a wary glance in his daughter’s direction and was clearly relieved to discover that she was not crying.
“It wasn’t his fault,” Samantha insisted.
“I know that, honey, but I’ll just take him back upstairs with me now. Okay?”
Samantha sniffled, but nodded, and Sam tugged the reluctant canine out of the room. They’d just started up the steps when someone else knocked on Liss’s front door.
“Come on in!” she called out. “Admission to the three-ring circus is free!”
A straight-back wooden chair had been knocked over during the fray. Liss righted it and surveyed the rest of the living room. She couldn’t spot any obvious damage and nothing else seemed out of place.
Samantha flopped down on the sofa next to Adam. She held her backpack clutched in front of her like a shield and avoided meeting her aunt’s eyes. Liss wondered if she should say something to let the girl know she wasn’t angry about the dog. Before she could decide, Beth Hogencamp appeared in the doorway.
Liss had given Beth dance lessons, until a real school of dance opened in town. And they’d shared an adventure or two. Her radiant smile lifted Liss’s spirits . . . until she realized the girl was not alone.
A boy slouched into the room behind her. He was tall, skinny, and scowling, and he wore the ill-fitting, strategically ripped clothing that seemed to be the uniform of boys of a certain age.
“This is Boxer,” Beth announced. “He’s going to help.”
The nickname meant nothing to Liss, but a flutter of movement from Samantha’s direction caught her eye. She glanced at her niece in time to see the girl’s cheeks turn bright pink. Then Samantha ducked her head and stared fixedly at her clasped hands.
She’s only nine, Liss thought. She can’t be interested in boys yet!
Aloud, she welcomed Boxer and invited him to take a seat. Just because h
e didn’t make a great first impression didn’t mean he had nothing to contribute. Besides, if he was responsible for Beth’s enthusiasm, she could only be grateful. When Liss had first approached her young neighbor, Beth hadn’t wanted anything to do with Halloween. She’d argued that she was too old for such a silly holiday and had agreed to help only after Liss promised her that she could invite a friend to serve on the committee with her. That friend, it appeared, was Boxer.
Last to arrive was Stu Burroughs. His business, Stu’s Ski Shop, was right next door to Liss’s store, Moosetookalook Scottish Emporium. Short, chunky, and graying, Stu was something of a curmudgeon. Liss wasn’t surprised when he took exception to Boxer’s appearance. He looked the boy up and down, his lips curving into a contemptuous sneer. “You got a last name, kid?”
Boxer’s chin jutted out at a belligerent angle. He had a plain, square face but his dark brown eyes were bright with animosity. “It’s Snipes. What’s it to ya?”
Stu’s bushy eyebrows shot up and Liss suppressed a groan. Snipes was a name well-known in Moosetookalook. Several members of the family were . . . disreputable, to say the least. Still, no matter who Boxer’s parents were, Liss didn’t think it was fair to hold the actions of adults against a child of eleven or twelve.
“Coffee, anyone?” she asked brightly. “Or cocoa?”
“I’ll have a beer,” Boxer said.
Beth snickered.
“Cocoa all around, then. I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll give you a hand.” Stu stomped out of the room and was waiting for Liss in the kitchen when she got there.
“All right, Stu. What’s got you on the warpath?” Liss had mugs ready on a tray, a packet of pre-measured hot chocolate mix in each one. All she had to do was add water from the kettle steaming on the stove.
“What’s that Snipes boy doing here?”
“Beth brought him.”
“I’m pretty sure he tried to shoplift a ski mask out of my store the other day.”
Vampires, Bones and Treacle Scones (A Liss MacCrimmon Mystery) Page 2