“We handled it beautifully,” said Pep. “I think we’ve found a new calling.”
“Yes, we walked into a building on our own property. Good for us,” I said.
“No need to be Debbie Downer,” said Lark.
“Now, where are the skeleton remains?” Pep said.
“I think they’re over there.” I pointed toward the back of the space, where supplies were stored in a little room off the main part of the greenhouse.
We headed in that direction. Through a plastic flap door we came to a metal table on which were scattered the skeletons’ remains.
There wasn’t a lot left.
“Wow, these really were smashed to bits,” said Lark, shocked.
“What sort of weapon could do this?” Pep said.
“I don’t know, but look at this,” I said. “There are no complete skulls. The only part of the skeletons that wasn’t completely smashed was the feet.”
“What does that mean?” Lark asked, her eyes wide.
“Maybe something was dropped on their heads,” I said. “Everything was crushed except the feet.”
“I never would’ve thought of that,” Pep said.
“Or, they were lying on the ground and something landed on them, but didn’t quite land on their feet,” suggested Lark.
All three of us moved around the table, gazing at the debris. My heart was pounding with the knowledge that we could be caught at any moment.
Since the skeletons and ghosts were getting ready for the night’s haunted house, the grounds were quiet. I hoped the silence would at least let me hear anyone approaching the greenhouse.
We were all just leaning over the table to get a closer look at the remains when there came a scraping noise outside the door.
We stopped and looked at each other.
“What was that?” Pep breathed.
“Someone’s coming,” Lark murmured.
“What do we do?” I whispered.
I looked around, but there was nowhere to go. The footsteps were coming closer and we had nowhere to hide.
Chapter Twelve
With only a breath to spare, I seized an old broom from an obscure corner of the greenhouse and tossed the dustpan to Lark so she could look busy too.
This was turning out to be a lot like every weekend I had spent growing up, ever. That is: me, pretending to clean.
I started sweeping the floor, while Pep got busy straightening the tools hanging against the wall. We got ourselves into character just as the door opened and in walked Grant.
He stopped short, his handsome face looking surprised, then very suspicious. “What are you three doing here?” he demanded. We had clearly interrupted whatever train of thought he was preoccupied with.
I kept sweeping.
“What does it look like?” Lark asked. She waggled the dustpan in front of the broom.
“I don’t see any clocks in here,” Grant pointed out. Damn the man for paying attention at breakfast, and the greenhouse for not having a clock. My mother really was failing this place.
“We thought we’d do some cleaning first,” said Pep.
“And it just happened to be in the back room of the greenhouse where we said we put the skeleton remains?” Grant asked, bracing his hands on his hips.
“Hey, we can’t tell where the wind will take us,” I said. Even in my head I knew that was lame.
“It was supposed to take you to the clocks,” he said dryly.
“We’re just trying to help,” said Pep.
“You should get out of here,” he said, stepping aside to let the three of us file past him.
“We were just leaving,” I said.
He held out his hand and I gave him the broom. “I’ll finish up,” he said, looking serious.
“Be sure you do. There was some dust in the left corner over there,” I said.
Lark stepped forward with a sniff and handed him the dustpan.
“Maybe we should stick around and water the plants?” said Pep.
“You will do no such thing,” said Grant. “Find somewhere else to ‘clean.’ This is potentially a crime scene.” Without another word he turned and went into the back room.
It wasn’t until the door had closed after him that Lark turned to me and whispered, “Did you see what he’s carrying?”
“Yes, a hammer,” I said grimly.
“Wait a minute,” Grant said. He had come back out, but without the hammer.
“We didn’t do it,” said Pep, holding up her hands.
“Do what?”
“Nothing, I was just practicing,” she said.
Grant shook his head as if he was confused, then started to say something else but interrupted himself with a surprised yelp.
We pushed forward to see what had scared him so much, but all we found was a white fur ball sitting on the floor and looking as innocent as innocent could be. I knew from long experience that it was the look that told you you were in trouble.
“It’s just a cat,” said Pep, grinning. “Her name is Rose.”
“I just wasn’t expecting a cat.” Grant stared down at the small white animal as if he was terrified.
“She doesn’t bite,” I said. “At least not humans. At least not yet.”
“Too many qualifiers for comfort, really,” said Pep.
“How many qualifiers disqualify it from being comforting?” Lark asked.
“Any,” Grant and I chorused at the same time. I looked at him and grinned, but he still looked fearful.
“You’re a police investigator! Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a cat,” said Pep.
“I’m not afraid of a cat,” he argued.
“You look afraid,” said Lark.
“Can he hear me talk?” Rose asked.
“I think only witches can hear you talk,” I told her.
“The cat talks?” he asked.
“Of course she does,” I said.
“Tell him I meant to scare him and next time I plan on terrifying him,” said Rose. “Also, tell him I scratch.”
“What’s she saying?” Grant asked.
“She says hi,” I said.
“Liar,” Rose purred.
“You’ll thank me later,” I told her.
“That’s not really what she said,” Grant guessed, accurately as it happened.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said.
“I think I like him,” said Rose.
“And his luck has just run out,” said Lark.
“What was it you wanted to talk to us about?” Pep asked Grant.
Lark gave her a gentle kick in the foot. We didn’t need to remind him.
Grant looked up and shook his head, “I honestly don’t remember. In fact, I’m going back into the back room with the skeleton smithereens, where the world makes sense and cats are definitely not allowed.”
He stepped around the cat and into the back room again, closing the door firmly behind him. It wasn’t until he was gone that the three of us snickered.
“I think he likes us,” said Lark.
“How can you not?” said Pep.
We made our way out of the greenhouse with Rose trotting along next to us.
“Thanks for saving us,” I told her.
“Any time,” she said.
“Now what?” Lark asked.
“Now, you really get to work.”
We spun around to see Cookie with her hands on her hips.
Our amateur investigation would have to wait until later, but I felt like I was at least a step forward with it. I now knew that I needed to find out what was big enough to be dropped on three skeletons and heavy enough to crush them.
We spent the rest of the day helping out around the mansion to get everything ready for the haunted house that night.
At one point Lark stopped her work and pretended to think. “I can’t decide if Grant is hotter when he’s in command mode or ‘I’m scared of a cute fur ball’ mode. Maybe I’ll ask Lizzie.”
She laugh
ed as I rolled my eyes, but her moment of lightness was surrounded by worry.
Everyone was nervous, not just because of what had happened to the skeletons, and the arrival of the police, but also because there was rain in the forecast for that evening.
It was likely that the rain would turn the ghosts solid and make them more dangerous, and no one was happy with that prospect except the ghosts.
We all dressed in costumes for the extravaganza. I refused to wear a witch costume. Instead I stuck a couple of fake samurai swords in my belt, tied a black bandanna around my forehead for good measure, and got ready to greet paying customers.
“What are you going as?” Lizzie asked.
We had run into each other on the wide, red-carpeted stairs. I heard her coming, but I didn’t manage to avoid her. Next time I needed to be more careful, and faster.
“Just thought I’d dress up a bit,” I said.
“That’s what it looks like you’re going as,” she muttered.
She, of course, was dressed in full witch regalia. Admittedly the visitors loved it when she did that, but it made me feel vaguely ill.
“You really should try to do better with your costumes,” she suggested.
“I’ll think about it because you said so,” I told her.
She continued on her way down the stairs without bothering to reply.
After a quick dinner in the kitchen, my mom gathered us all together. That included Grant, who was still wearing his uniform. I had a feeling he’d be invisible tonight, maybe off in the library doing research.
“Okay, everyone! Tonight’s the big night,” Mom announced, as if we didn’t know it already.
She paused for effect, staring around at us with their hands on her hips, then went on. “We all know what to do. We’ve all been through this before. Just be careful of the ghosts and make sure everyone has a good time. The rain shouldn’t be too bad until most of the guests have left, but we have to make sure nobody stays in the haunted house. There can’t be any kids hiding out when we close.
“I expect this to be a late night for everyone, and I know we’re all worried about what happened to the skeletons, but this is the first step in figuring it out,” she said. “We have to behave normally. Tomorrow we’ll resume patrols, and I have every confidence that we’ll figure out exactly who is behind the smashing of the skeletons.”
Lizzie raised her hand and Lark rolled her eyes. “Given how extra busy the gift shop is going to be tonight, shouldn’t Pep have some help?”
Pep looked like she was about to blow her top at the suggestion. The only people who could help her were Lark or Cookie, but Lark didn’t like helping and Cookie wasn’t really helpful. My mother didn’t want to acknowledge any of that, so her reply was simply, “Yes. Lark, would you mind helping in the gift shop tonight?”
Lark took a deep breath and looked like she was counting to ten before she agreed that she would.
Lizzie sat back in her chair looking smug. Usually Lizzie and Lark worked together on nights like this, but now Lizzie had the best job all to herself.
It was really annoying. Cam was the other guide, and he was very good at it. Everybody loved him because he was theatrical and funny. He usually dressed as a pirate to guide people, and tonight was no different. He wore a big red sash, a fake sword, a hat, and an eye patch. He was also practicing his pirate growl.
“Does anyone else have anything to say before we get started?” my mom asked, looking around and catching our eyes in turn.
She wasn’t asking because she actually wanted anyone to speak, she was trying to close the meeting, but of course Cookie stood up to say something. My mother sat down slowly.
“As the oldest member of this family, I feel as though I should speak,” said Cookie.
Everyone groaned.
“Actually, I’m the oldest member,” said Uncle Taft.
“You don’t count,” Cookie shot back. Her weathered face looked like gravel raked into crags and rolls.
“Why not?” he asked.
“Because I said so,” she scoffed.
“That’s as good a reason as you ever have,” he said.
“It’s the only reason I ever need,” she said.
“It was also the reason you gave for not wanting our children to marry each other,” he shot back.
“Oh, don’t get into that again,” Meg sighed. “It’s been decades.”
I snuck a quick peek at Grant to see how he was taking this little show. To my surprise, he had a dreamy and bemused expression on his face. Apparently he was more amused by family banter than by cats.
“Anyway,” snarled Cookie, “what I would like to say is, who took my wine out of the cabinet?” We all groaned again and stood up to leave without answering.
Grant was the slowest to walk away. As I was departing he turned to me and asked, “Who did take her wine?”
“I have no idea,” I said. “It’s likely that she drank it herself and forgot about it and is now blaming us for it. It’s just wine providing her with an excuse to yell at us.”
“We should get her more wine. A good bottle,” he said. “Maybe then she’d let me in the house without your having to save me.”
“I doubt it,” I said, blushing. “Besides, Cookie doesn’t need good wine to get drunk.”
Grant looked offended by the very idea of cheap wine. I thought someone should tell him that from time to time it was delicious, but it wasn’t going to be me.
I spent the night selling tickets to excited customers who lined up all the way down the driveway to get into the house. We always kept track of how many people came to the mansion for the haunted house, and I was pretty sure tonight was a record number for an early-season night.
I could just imagine what next weekend would be like.
The rain didn’t start until late in the evening, but when it did it was more of a torrent than a sprinkle. We had given the ghosts strict orders to stay inside so they wouldn’t be at risk of becoming solid and visible to non-witches, but late that night I glanced out the window and saw something white streaking past.
The supernaturals hung around outside the windows all the time, but something about the sight I’d seen felt off. I was very tired, and my eyes had long ago gone scratchy and bleary, but I decided I’d better investigate in case something dangerous was going on. A cloud hung over the evening; the Skeleton Trio had always been the life of the party.
Watching more carefully from my seat at the ticket window, I saw Gus making his way around the mansion. His body was stuck to the outside wall just under the roof, but little bits of him stuck out far enough so that they were being hit by water and solidifying.
Without hesitation I closed my ticket window and marched over to give Gus a piece of my mind.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I demanded, bracing my hands on my hips.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” he demanded. “I’m walking a tightrope in the circus.” He pretended to walk a tightrope, wobbling horribly. He was nearly as bad as one of the le-haunts.
“The circus would kick you out for lack of ability,” I told him.
“No, they’d admire my sense of humor,” he said, jutting out his chin stubbornly. “What is mere balance when you have laughter?”
“You’re supposed to be staying inside while the customers are here,” I said through gritted teeth.
“We kept hearing funny noises coming from Down Below,” he complained.
I said, “You aren’t in danger.”
But Gus looked skeptical, and I didn’t blame him. “We could be in danger. It’s a scary haunted world out there,” he said.
“You’re a ghost and you work in a haunted house,” I said. “You’ve seen scary things.”
“Down Below is different. It’s more like terrifying than scary,” he insisted, his eyes going large.
“I’m sure it’s fine,” I told him. “They probably just don’t like the storm either.”
For
a set of supernaturals who worked at a haunted house, they sure were a bunch of chickens.
“Are you going to do anything about the noises?” Gus asked plaintively.
I hadn’t heard the thump, thump he was talking about, but that didn’t mean anything. I’d been busy all evening.
“Why don’t you just go back to the stable and stay there,” I said. “You’ll be safe out there, and I’ll let you know if I find anything.”
He brightened and told me that was a great idea. “I think I’ll do that.”
By the tag end of the evening the rain was coming down so hard it was difficult to see the cars in the parking lot.
The number of customers had slowed down as the weather had gotten worse and an all-out storm had broken free into the night. Finally I closed the ticket window and stood for a moment in the grand doorway into the mansion, watching the storm batter the windows as my feet and pant legs got soaked in the wind-driven rain.
I was exhausted, and after taking in the storm for a few moments I headed inside.
All around the mansion there were bumps and boos, the strange noises that the haunted house made in the night. With hundreds of supernatural creatures on the property, there was bound to be spookiness.
There was no sign of Grant, but I could see a light burning under the library door.
I told myself I’d been right about where he’d spend the evening.
“I suppose he got one of the nice guest rooms,” I said to my mother as we headed for the kitchen.
“Of course he did,” she said. “He’s in the best guesthouse. I also managed to convince Cookie to leave him alone at night.”
“I don’t mean to alarm anybody, but there are a lot of ghosts outside right now,” Lark said, smothering a yawn with her hand.
Pep and her sister had just emerged from closing up the gift shop, and while Pep looked fine and happy, Lark looked like she was about to throttle someone. Lark was much happier helping her mom with the decorations. She didn’t like to be stuck in one place and she definitely didn’t like customer service.
We made our way to the back of the mansion and met the rest of the family there. Mirrorz and Steve joined us as well.
Spooky Business (Jane Garbo Mysteries Book 1) Page 9