Additional voices drew my attention. Leaning against the wall was Bob Fontana and the man from the Pickingill Society, Marlow Spurlock. There was no sign of my missing friends, or of Kitten, for that matter.
“Get to it,” Bob commanded. “Where are those legal documents? Kitten went to a lot of trouble to get Trevor’s signature on that deed.”
“He couldn’t have known what he was signing,” Hope said angrily.
“Oh, I have witnesses to the contrary. Now, get after it. You said you could find them. So find them.”
“We need help. We’ll have to call upon the Master,” Hope said. She was using the sting technique Tinkie and I had come up with, but the setup was all wrong. I had no idea where Tinkie or Coleman might be. And it looked like both Hope and Charity were more prisoners than powerful witches.
Hope continued talking, following my script. “But I warn you, Mr. Fontana. When you accept the help of the Dark One, you are his for eternity. He has powers to do the unthinkable, and he will have his payment.”
“I’ll take my chances,” Bob said.
“Or we can just kill you both now,” Spurlock said. “Neater that way.”
Spurlock, who’d taken money from the Pickingill group to save the witches, wasn’t interested in saving them at all.
I wondered where Faith was and why she wasn’t part of the tableau. And I was pretty certain Spurlock or Malvik had stolen the documents from the chest in the secret room. Why didn’t Spurlock just give them over? Unless a coup was taking place!
“You may have us, but never think we’re powerless.” Hope was intimidating. Yes! “We aren’t alone, Mr. Fontana. You forget that.”
“Faith can’t help you.” There was a certain smugness to Bob’s tone. “She isn’t really a Harrington, after all. Your mother gave her up. What a fib to say she was stolen. She was left behind, and some people just can’t get over that.”
“We love Faith,” Charity said, but her voice was tremulous. “She wouldn’t betray us.”
“Are you sure?” Bob pushed off the wall. “Get to work. I want to know where those papers went. Scry for them or whatever witchy thing you do.”
“No.” Hope wasn’t going to be pushed around. “You lied about Trevor agreeing to sell you this property. These documents are forged or at least were signed under duress. I won’t help you steal the land from us.”
Hope started to stand, but Bob brought a gun from his side and pointed it at her.
“Sit down.”
She almost collapsed back into her chair. “Esmeralda was onto you. That’s why you killed her, too.”
Bob laughed. “You jump to conclusions just like Kitten. She was certain I was sleeping with Esmeralda. She’s done everything she can to cut me out of this deal. She thinks she can develop this property on her own. Hey, maybe you should ask her what happened to that hack writer. And that old fool Trevor, trying to play both ends against the middle. Just sayin’, Kitten has a mean streak a mile wide. And she’s good at finding scapegoats.”
“You didn’t kill them?” Charity asked.
“I’m not the only villain working this scheme,” Bob said, completely comfortable with a cabal of villains. “I’m probably the best looking, but not the only one. Now find those damn papers or I’m going to put a bullet in your brainpan and end this. I’ll have this property one way or the other.”
Hope and Charity joined hands on either side of the large silver bowl and closed their eyes. They began to mumble softly.
“Stop the bullshit and tell me where to find those papers.” Bob put the barrel of the gun to Hope’s temple. She opened her eyes, but even from the distance of the window, I could see something was wrong. Her eyes were rolled back in her head, showing only the whites.
Bob stepped back. “What’s wrong with her?” he asked Charity. “Make her stop.” He was clearly unsettled. Even being on the outside looking in, I was shaken.
“She’s in a trance,” Charity said. “Leave her alone. She’s communicating.”
“With who?”
Charity rested her blue gaze fully upon Bob. “Magic comes at a price, Mr. Fontana. A heavy price. We seek our answers and influence from the Dark Lord. We may be the conduit, but you will pay the price.”
“Stop this bull and tell me where those documents are. And if you see my wife, tell her when I get my hands on her, she is going to suffer. Betraying bitch.”
Hope began to rock back and forth, and then jerked several times. “He is here with us,” she said. “He will help you, but at a price.”
“What’s he going to demand?” Bob asked. “My soul?” He laughed.
“He’ll demand too much,” Hope said, and her face was bleak in the candlelight that illuminated the room.
She and Charity joined hands and began chanting in what sounded like Latin. The incantation made the hair all over my body stand on end. The water in the silver bowl seemed to swirl, as if a storm were brewing within the tiny confines. I wasn’t in the best position to see, but something was happening. Hope and Charity bent forward, staring into the depths of the liquid.
“I know where the papers are,” Hope said, looking up at Bob. “And you aren’t going to like it.”
“Spit it out,” Bob demanded.
“They’re at the sheriff’s office. The deputy found them at the Prince Albert and confiscated them.”
“Get up.” Bob waved the gun between the sisters. He backed up and opened the trapdoor that led into the tunnels. “Get down there,” he said.
“Just let us go,” Hope said. “You can have the dairy. We’ll move back to Louisiana.”
“It’s not going to be that easy,” Bob said. “Now get down there.”
I wanted to stop what was happening, and even though I had a gun, I didn’t trust that Bob wouldn’t shoot one of the sisters if I challenged him. Harold and DeWayne were on the way. It was smarter to wait for backup.
If Bob took the sisters into the tunnels, we could find them, perhaps when we had an advantage.
The trapdoor closed behind Bob and Spurlock, and the dairy barn was empty.
25
The lights of a vehicle swept across the front of the manor, and I knew Harold had arrived. I had to get back to the main house and warn him before Bob or some of his henchman—and I was positive he had henchmen—saw my friend. I also needed to move. I was freezing. My warm barn coat hung in the mudroom of Dahlia House and I wished for it with the same passion I’d wished for a bicycle for Christmas when I was seven. I got the bike, but I doubted Santa Claus would deliver my coat. I should have asked Harold to grab it when he got the pets.
I pushed off the wall and ran fast toward the manor, which was still dark and foreboding. I arrived just as Harold walked up the steps, flashlight in his hand. He was a perfect target.
“Harold,” I whisper-yelled. “Harold!”
He heard me and snapped off the light. “Why is the power out?” he asked.
“Someone shut it off deliberately.”
“Let’s find the breaker box.” Harold was a practical man. And a smart one.
When I reached his side, he grasped my arm and quickly blinked the light in my face. “Are you okay?”
“Everyone is missing. They just vanished. I was in the house with your cousins. Thomas disappeared first, then Tad. I don’t know what happened to Coleman, Tinkie, and Malvik.” My voice broke. I hadn’t realized how close to an emotional outburst I was. “Bob Fontana forced two of the witches into the tunnels in the dairy at gunpoint. He may kill them.”
“First things first. We have to find Tinkie and Coleman and my cousins. They’re here somewhere,” Harold said. “We’ll find them.” He walked to his sedan and opened the door. Sweetie Pie, Pluto, and his bad little dog Roscoe leaped to the ground, sniffing like crazy. Roscoe reminded me of one of the Marx Brothers running in a frenzy.
“Find Coleman,” I said to Sweetie Pie.
She snuffled over to the patrol car, circled it, and headed u
p the front steps to the open front door. When she disappeared inside, Harold nudged me. “We can follow or we can find that breaker box.”
“We need light.” I offered him Tinkie’s gun from my waistband.
“Brought my own,” he said, pushing back his jacket to show the Glock he’d brought. “And I brought this.” He opened the back door of his car and handed me my barn jacket. “I figured you’d be freezing.”
“You are a friend indeed.” I slid into the coat with a sigh of relief.
I was worried about Sweetie Pie, but we had to get the lights back on in the manor. Somehow, the scenario that Tinkie and I had planned had gone terribly awry.
“Where’s DeWayne?” I asked.
“He’s called in some help, Sarah Booth. He found a deed in Malvik’s room assigning the Musgrove property to the Fontanas. Apparently, Kitten had somehow gotten Trevor to sign the deed over to the Fontanas. DeWayne saw the signature.”
“How did Malvik end up with the deed?” I was certain I’d seen it in the secret room at the manor.
“I believe Spurlock took the deed after he conked you on the head, and somehow Malvik took it from Spurlock and hid it in his hotel room, thinking we’d never look there. Either he’s in on this or he was intending to blackmail the Fontanas.”
“What a snake pit.” I really couldn’t worry about property right now. My focus was my friends and Harold’s relatives. And then Hope and Charity. I had no clue where Faith might be, or what side she was working. I told Harold my suspicion that Faith was working the Arlington Woods land deal with the Fontanas. I was positive she’d negotiated the sale of the Keel land. I had no proof, though, only assumptions. Bob Fontana’s implications were that Faith had abandoned her sisters and gone renegade, but Bob wasn’t known to walk hand-in-hand with the truth.
Harold and I made our way around the manor to the power lines. The breaker box was on the side of the house, and the shrubs around it indicated someone had trampled them. Sure enough, when Harold flipped the breakers, lights came on in the manor. Mission accomplished.
If only finding our friends would be as simple.
“Should I call Oscar?” Guilt was eating me alive. Tinkie’s husband had a right to know his wife was in danger.
“Why don’t we hunt for her first? That’s what Tinkie would suggest.”
“Thanks.” That was what I wanted to hear. If only we could find her safe and sound, then Oscar wouldn’t have to be panicked. “Let’s find Sweetie.”
Even with the lights blazing, the manor filled me with trepidation. It was beautiful architecturally, but there was something sinister in the dragon motifs, the snakes on the lintels, and the fearsome claws of the table and chair legs. The house had been filled with totems. I reminded myself that these embellishments had been created long before witches moved into the house.
I filled Harold in on what I’d seen and heard at the dairy.
“It’s safe to bet the Harrington sisters are being held in the tunnels, just like Budgie was.”
“I thought you were bringing Budgie.” I’d forgotten all about the former teacher. I was somewhat relieved he wasn’t in tow.
Harold started up the stairs.
“Wait a minute! Where is Budgie?” I had a terrible feeling. He had to have gotten out of the car before Harold made it to the manor.
“He’s in the tunnels, Sarah Booth.”
“You let him go down there alone?” I couldn’t believe Harold would do that.
“He knows what he’s doing.” Harold inhaled. “And he’s armed.”
“Oh crap.” This whole thing was totally out of control.
The sound of gunshots came from somewhere in the upper floors of the manor, followed by Sweetie Pie’s howl. Harold and I both bolted up the stairs. I had to find my dog and my friends. Pluto and Roscoe were also missing. This case, which had started out as a simple fact-finding mission, might prove to be the conclusion of my career as a private investigator.
At the top of the stairs, I led Harold to the sliding panel that revealed the secret room. I’d failed to truly explore the interior passageways and where they led. The panel was open and blood was splattered across the floor. Someone had been injured, possibly shot. “Wait for DeWayne, please.” I had to find my friends and dog. “Please, Harold.” Where in the hell was the deputy anyway? He should have arrived by now, even if he had to drag the Mormon Tabernacle Choir behind him.
“You shouldn’t go in there alone.”
“You know where I am. You and DeWayne can follow as soon as he arrives.”
“I’ll wait for a little while.” That was as much as Harold was willing to give, and I had to take it.
“Thanks.” I pushed the panel open wider, blocked it again with some heavy books, and stepped into the musty darkness.
My high-beam flashlight was a tremendous help as I moved to the end of the narrow dark room. As I suspected, a door opened onto another passage, this one wider and sloping down. I was somewhere in the interior of the house, moving toward ground level. Twice I saw passages that led off the main one, but I ignored them. They were narrow and filled with cobwebs.
The walls of the passage were wood and rough limestone block. Budgie would appreciate this architectural detail, but I wasn’t in the mood. I wanted only the safety of my friends. I couldn’t think about Coleman. What if I lost him just after we’d decided to act on our feelings?
A noise somewhere in the darkness ahead of me made me pause. It sounded like feet dragging on the floor. I turned off the flashlight and felt my way forward. When my fingers tangled in some kind of rope, I stopped. Clicking on the light for just a moment, I realized I held a hangman’s noose in my hand. It was harmless, but the sight of it was chilling. What had gone on at Musgrove Manor over the long years of history?
A low whine came from up ahead and I pressed on. Sweetie Pie! Was she hurt? And where in the heck were Roscoe and Pluto? “Sweetie!” I whispered for my hound. I couldn’t stop myself. Toenails scrabbled on the floor, and Sweetie came up to me, whining. Blood covered her head and back. I wanted to cry out, but I knelt beside her instead, my hands feeling for the wound that would produce such blood.
She licked my hands and then my face, and I couldn’t detect any serious injury. I clicked on the light again and gasped. The beam caught Tad and Thomas. They were bound and gagged and tied in an upright position against the far wall of a room. Tad was bleeding from a cut to his forehead, and I couldn’t tell if he was alive or dead. Thomas’s wide eyes let me know he was conscious. His eyebrows jumped up and he shook his head.
Before I could turn to look behind me, I felt a sharp blow on my left hand that held the gun. It flew across the floor. I rolled out of the way of the next blow, and Sweetie Pie dodged, too, and just in time. I still had the flashlight, and I swung it at the dark-clad figure that came at me with what looked like a fireplace poker. The heavy iron tool came down on my forearm and I thought I heard bone crack.
From out of the darkness a small black body hurled itself through the air. It landed on the attacker’s head with a shriek like a soul escaping from hell. Pluto was on the scene. Sweetie Pie lunged at the off-balance figure and knocked it against the wall. As it slid to the floor, Roscoe arrived. He was a take-no-prisoners kind of dog. He went straight for the face and caught the person’s nose and shook it like a dead rat. Blood exploded and Spurlock screamed and dropped the poker. I picked it up and clocked him on the head. And then there was silence.
My arm throbbed like red-hot flares were shooting through it, but it wasn’t broken. I went to Thomas and untied him and removed the gag. He bent over his unconscious brother. “Did you see Tinkie or Coleman?” I asked.
“No. Someone snuck up behind me, put a cloth soaked in something over my nose, and the next thing I knew I was being dragged down these halls in the dark. Who is that man?”
“Depends on what role he’s playing. Help me tie him up.”
By the time we had Spurlock bound, Tad wa
s coming to. Sweetie, Roscoe, and Pluto were fine. It was Tad’s blood on my dog. “We have to find the others,” Harold said. His tone worried me. “And the other sister, Faith? Did you see her?” he asked Thomas.
“No. We only saw that guy.” He indicated Spurlock. “He never said a word, either.”
“Get your brother outside,” Harold urged him. “Put him in the car.” He gave Thomas the keys. “Take him to the hospital and tell Doc Sawyer to be on alert. We may need him here.”
“I can’t leave you,” Thomas said to Harold.
“You can and you will.” Harold motioned for him to get Tad’s other arm and lift him to his feet. “Now go.”
We lit their way down the tunnel and to another panel that opened onto the dining room. Many of the candles were now guttering in puddles of wax. I had no idea how long we’d been making our way through the bowels of the house, but it was plenty of time for DeWayne to have arrived. Yet he hadn’t. Something truly strange was happening at Musgrove Manor, and Harold and I were on our own. With the help of the dogs and Pluto.
“Sweetie, find Coleman and Tinkie,” I said to my faithful hound. She could track like nobody’s business, and she adored Tinkie and even liked Coleman. “And don’t forget, Malvik is around here somewhere.”
She gave a mournful howl and started out of the house. Her direction took me by surprise, but Harold and I followed as fast as we could run. Sweetie was out the door like a streak and bounding down the path that led to the creepy apple orchard. Roscoe was at her side and Pluto loped just in front of us. I’d never seen my cat move with such speed, which only made me go faster.
The moon had finally risen high enough to light the path that twisted through an open pasture, then took a slight downward turn into a protected orchard. Before we even reached the apple trees, I saw the feral cats. They were lined up on both sides of the path. Pluto rushed forward, and, as he passed them, they fell into line behind him.
“He’s like the king of the cats,” Harold said. “That is chilling.”
“No kidding. He’s like their ruler.” I didn’t want to think how that might be possible since he’d really only met these cats in the past two weeks. I wondered if they voted like the cardinals in the Vatican. That was an even more disconcerting thought as I imagined the cats in red capes and pointed hats. My fantasies were definitely getting away from me.
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