“What is that?” Lark asked.
The ghost gave a thin smile. “I know that the trouble did not originate from Down Below.”
Recognizing that we weren’t going to get anything more out of him, we took our leave, but not without mentioning the problem with the water heater.
“Of course you can fix it. It’s much better than your mother having to come down here,” he said.
“Thank you for your time.”
Peter offered to show us where the boiler room was, which meant leading us through another labyrinth of small rooms with low ceilings and lots of supernaturals staring at us as we passed.
The passages were dimly lit, and it was hard to see any distance ahead. Off the main hallway, the rooms were colder and the draft more biting.
“It’s not often that we get visitors down here,” said Peter cheerfully.
“Aren’t you bored?” Lark asked.
“Oh, never. It’s impossible to be bored when there are so many laws to be broken,” Peter chirped.
“Why didn’t I think of that?” said Lark.
“I don’t know, but if you keep coming down here your heart will surely blacken. Then again, at least you still have a heart,” the skeleton finished thoughtfully.
“Three cheers for that,” said Lark dryly.
“Here it is.” The skeleton paused before a wide, sturdy-looking metal door.
“You expect us to go in there?” Pep asked, staring at the door as if it were a snake about to bite.
Peter, who had clearly decided that Pep was worth pleasing, looked concerned. “You asked to be shown where the boiler room was and I brought you.”
“If we asked you to steal something for us, would you do that too?” I asked.
“Oh, no, I only do something like that for pay,” said Peter.
“But you’ll do a favor for free?” Pep asked.
“Only once,” said Peter. “Besides, I expect that you owe me now.”
“Of course we do,” I said.
“Lark and I will fix the heater. Pep, can you stay out here?” I said.
“I sure can,” said Pep. She looked at the skeleton, who gave her a big grin.
“You want me to teach you how to pick pockets?” he asked excitedly.
“Maybe next time,” said Pep.
Lark and I opened the heavy iron door.
I held the torch aloft, banishing the black interior. Inside was your standard boiler room, only more so. This was, in fact, the largest boiler room I had ever seen, also the oldest.
We walked over to examine the boiler and saw something very interesting. “Look, the little lever has been switched. That’s the only problem,” said Lark in amazement.
“But doesn’t it take somebody physically moving the lever to turn it off?” I asked.
She glanced at me and nodded. “Yes, it does.”
Both of us stared into the shadows for a minute, thinking about what that meant. “So, somebody wanted us to have to come down here,” I said finally.
“That’s about the gist of it,” said Lark.
“Now the only question is, are they friend or foe?” I said.
Lark looked at me grimly. “I think that all depends on whether we make it out of here.”
We switched the lever back so the mansion would have hot water again, then headed back to Pep.
“Not to be too much of a worrywart, but let’s get out of here,” said Lark.
I couldn’t have agreed more.
Without wasting any time, we went back out to the dark hallway where we’d left Pep. Since we had taken the torch, she had pulled a lighter from her pocket so she could see. As we emerged from the boiler room she quickly flicked the lighter closed and stuffed some cards into Peter’s hand. He then stuffed them into the pocket of his dress suit, trying to look as innocent as possible and failing miserably.
“Having fun, are we?” Lark asked.
“Oh, sure,” said Pep.
“What were you doing?” I asked.
“I was just learning some card tricks,” Pep said defensively.
“If she ever decides to turn to a life of crime, watch out,” said Peter. “She’s a natural.”
“We need to get out of here. Now,” said Lark.
Peter pouted. “But I haven’t had time to show you how to hot-wire a car.”
“That will have to be next week’s lesson,” said Lark. “Can you please take us back to the stairwell now?”
Grumbling about how little fun we were, Peter nevertheless did as we asked.
I felt my unease growing with every step we took. Unlike before, when there had been countless skeletons and ghosts watching our progress, now the dark doorways were empty. No faces peered out at us this time.
I wondered where they’d gone to, even though I knew I might not like the answer. Our footsteps echoed dully off the walls, and with each flicker of the fire in my hand I thought someone was coming toward us or moving away.
“Is it just me, or is this place too quiet?” Pep asked out of the side of her mouth.
“Gee, I don’t know, why don’t you ask your new buddy?” said Lark.
“You’re just jealous because I got to learn something new,” said Pep.
“I’m not jealous that you’re learning how to turn to a life of crime,” grumbled Lark, her voice equally low. We all felt that if we spoke any louder, we’d remind the supernaturals that we were Down Below, and we didn’t want to do that.
“I really don’t see what the big deal is. I like learning new things,” said Pep in a whisper.
“What’s that noise?” Peter asked, peering down one hallway and then the next.
“Are we almost to the stairs yet?” I asked, with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
“Yes, I think so,” said Peter, but his voice had started to shake. “Isn’t it getting louder?”
“It sounds like a lot of running feet,” said Lark.
“How is that possible?” said Pep.
“Is that what it is?” I asked.
I looked at Peter, but he wasn’t looking at me. He had frozen in place and was staring down one of the dark hallways.
“How fast are you three?” he whispered, staring straight ahead.
“We aren’t going to win any races, but we aren’t slow,” said Lark. “I could outrun these two if my life depended on it.”
“You could not,” said Pep. “I’m clearly the smallest and the fastest.”
“I would stop arguing about it and start doing it,” said Peter.
“Why?” I asked, but I had a feeling I already knew.
Peter lifted a shaking hand and pointed down the dark hallway. At first I didn’t see anything, but when my eyes adjusted to the darkness I noticed a flickering and realized that the noise was getting louder fast.
Finally it came home to me that what we were hearing was the sound of skeletons running.
Many skeletons.
And I could also see ghosts flashing through the air.
“What are they running for?” Pep asked.
Peter turned ominously toward her and said, “You.”
“We’d better get a move on,” said Lark, starting forward. “Are the stairs that way?”
Peter was pointing ahead of us, which was the direction toward which the skeletons were also running. In order to make our getaway, we’d have to beat them to the stairs and get up them and through the basement door before they caught us. We had hardly any time left.
“It sounds like hundreds of them,” said Pep.
“That sounds about accurate,” said Peter nervously.
“What are you talking about?” Lark asked. “Everybody seemed so friendly.”
“But we didn’t actually think you’d come down here. How foolish would you have to be to come Down Below? We just moved the lever as a joke, thinking we’d get a complaint, but then you three show up in person.” He said the last bit as if he couldn’t quite believe it.
“You lured us
down here as joke?” Lark cried.
“We didn’t think it would be you three who actually came,” Peter whined. “We thought maybe that handsome warlock would come or something. That would have been nice.”
“What handsome warlock? The only one here is Grant.” Lark sniggered at her own joke, in part because it was so clear how ridiculously good-looking Grant was and in part because she made bad jokes when she was stressed.
“And now all the ghosts and skeletons and le-haunts are angry at us . . . why?” I demanded, glancing again down the hallway.
“Why not?” said Peter meekly.
“This is getting us nowhere, and anyhow, we have to get out of here,” I said.
We didn’t waste any more time. Without so much as a goodbye to Peter, the three of us dashed forward. I watched my arms pump and thought how strange it was to be running madly in my own basement; I had never been much of a runner.
I could see the stairway ahead and to the right, and beyond that I could see skeletons pounding down the long hallway.
They were coming. We didn’t have much time left.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Get up the stairs,” Lark cried, pushing her sister and me in front of her so she could bring up the rear. Pep stumbled on the first step but righted herself, looking around wild-eyed.
“They’re coming!” Lark cried.
We took the stairs two at a time; they surely hadn’t felt this long when we came down. I was still holding the torch, mostly in case we needed it as a weapon. I could see a very thin sliver of light across the bottom of the door as we got close to safety.
“Open the door,” Pep yelled.
“Now I have you,” I heard someone yell from behind Lark.
I looked back to see a skeleton reaching out for her and Lark stopping to try and defend herself.
“No,” I yelled.
Without thinking I spun around and took several steps in one leap. In the darkness I lifted the torch and swung it at the skeleton, who immediately backed off, looking surprised.
“Run,” I yelled. I took one more swing for good measure and then turned and raced back up the stairs.
“Open the door,” Pep bellowed again.
This time whoever was on the other side of the door must have heard her, because the sliver of light widened and the door swung away from us.
“Just a couple more steps,” Lark cried.
As the three of us tumbled through the door, I took one backwards glance. A mob of skeletons crowded the stairs, but they had paused when the light from the doorway reached them. They didn’t want to come into daylight any more than we wanted them to.
The three of us went tumbling through the door and landed one on top of the other. I heard a jumble of voices and a slamming of the door behind us. Breathing hard, I tried to get my bearings.
What I saw when I finally looked up was the very angry eyes of my mother. Shaking a little, I broke eye contact and glanced around.
Meg was giving her own daughters an unbelievable glare, but thankfully the rest of the family was nowhere in sight, nor was there any sign of Grant.
“Kitchen. Now,” my mother snapped.
Even the le-haunts were cowering.
My mother had an office, but it was so tiny we couldn’t all fit inside it. When we had to have meetings where she needed to yell at us en masse, she always chose the kitchen. The location was great when someone else was in trouble, because the kitchen was easy to eavesdrop on, but it was disheartening when it was you getting a scolding. I didn’t want to think about Lizzie with her ear pressed to the other side of door, even though I knew that’s where she’d be.
Miserably we walked past Grant on our way to the kitchen. His face was tight and his arms were folded over his broad chest. I had the distinct impression that he wasn’t happy.
Lark, Pep, my mom, Meg, and I filed into Audrey’s domain. The woman herself had said we could use the space while she took a break from birthday preparations. I didn’t know where my brother and the other guys had gotten to, but I was relieved that they hadn’t seen Mom greeting us as we left Down Below.
Lizzie had at least had the good sense not to ask if she could come for this little chat, but just as we were settling in around the island the door swung open again and Cookie walked in.
“This doesn’t concern you,” said my mom imperiously.
“Everything here concerns me,” Cookie countered. “Besides, they’re my granddaughters.”
“You’ve tried to disown them at least seven times,” said my mother.
“And has it worked?” Cookie demanded.
“Oh, very well,” said Mom.
“Just what do you think you were doing down there?” she cried as soon as Cookie had joined us at the island.
“The boiler was shut off,” I said.
“We had to find out if we could fix it,” said Pep.
“You really think we’re fools?” Meg demanded. “You really think we were never young witches in a mansion full of criminals and spooks?”
“Is this one of those times we shouldn’t answer a question honestly?” Lark asked.
“Whoever said there are times like that?” my mom asked sharply.
“Cookie,” all three of us chorused.
Meg shook her head and looked at Cookie, who merely shrugged.
“I would tell you the truth, but now you won’t believe me,” she said sadly.
“You can’t be sneaking Down Below. It’s not safe,” said my mom. “Anything could’ve happened to you. In fact, I’m shocked you made it out alive.”
“What would we do if something happened to you?” Meg asked.
“No one wants to hear your answer,” said my mom to Cookie.
Lark, Pep, and I hung our heads.
“We’re sorry,” said Pep. “We really just wanted help. I didn’t think anything bad would come of it.”
“You had to run out of there,” said my mom.
“There was bit of a misunderstanding,” I said.
“Don’t tell me you had a fight with Bail or something,” said Meg, closing her eyes in consternation.
“We didn’t,” said Lark.
The relief in the room was palpable.
“How do you know about Bail?” Pep asked.
“You don’t think someone just lives in our basement and runs a crime ring right below us and we don’t know anything about him, do you?” said my mom.
“Then why didn’t you ask him about the smashing and the Skeleton Trio?” I asked.
“That’s none of your business,” said my mother. She didn’t bother to point out that even if she had made inquiries, she didn’t have to report the fact to me.
“What is our business is how you decided to go down there in the first place,” said Meg sternly.
“We’re sorry,” said Lark.
“I’m afraid sorry isn’t going to cut it this time,” said my mom.
I exchanged looks with my cousins. What were they getting at?
“Are you going to punish us?” Pep asked, looking nervous. “I’ve never been punished for anything before.”
Lark snorted.
“Given that it’s our opening weekend, we really can’t have anything go wrong. You’re to stay completely away from Down Below and completely away from this investigation! Do you hear me?” my mom barked.
“That is a rather light punishment, don’t you think?” said Cookie.
“They’re adult women in their twenties! What would you expect me to do?” said Mom.
“Kick them out of the mansion, at the very least,” said Cookie. “Preferably, tell them they can never come back, but at a minimum kick them out.”
“Who wants to check on the bats and ravens?” Meg asked, pointedly ignoring Cookie.
“Not us,” said Lark.
Meg smiled evilly, and we all frowned. The ravens and bats were mostly left to their own devices, but they did have to be checked on from time to time, especially before the Spook
yBooSpectacular. Usually one of the guys did it, because none of us wanted to go anywhere near the cave in back of the mansion.
But Meg was making her intentions clear. If we stepped out of line, we would be the ones taking care of the creepy creatures cave.
“We hear you,” we said in unison.
My mom nodded that she was satisfied. “Now, we have a lot of work to do, so let’s get to it so we can relax a bit before the customers arrive. The first thing we’re going to get to is that I want you to tell me exactly what happened Down Below and exactly what you did, and I want you to tell me now.”
I told my mom what had happened with Fudgy Bail and that we had fixed the water heater. I didn’t mention that it looked like it had been intentionally turned off, justifying that by telling myself I couldn’t be sure it was true, and it would do no good to speculate.
“Mr. Bail wasn’t mad?” my mom asked.
“No, he seemed more amused than anything else,” I said. “He didn’t think the Root of All Evil were coming from the basement to attack haunted house skeletons.”
“As well he shouldn’t,” said my mom.
“What makes you say that?” I asked quickly.
For a split second I didn’t think she was going to answer, but then she said, “It’s not really their brand of criminal behavior.”
“Anything else?” Meg asked.
The three of us shook our heads. I left out the bit at the end where a group of supernaturals had chased us up the stairs.
Finally it was over. I could tell because my mother relaxed her grim face and asked Meg, “Are you ready to have the best birthday party ever?”
Meg rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. “At least there will be delicious cake,” she muttered.
That’s what I was thinking as well.
I had calmed down enough by now to start processing what had happened Down Below. I didn’t understand what Bail had told us, but he had obviously thought he was telling us something. The question was: what?
“The Root of All Evil is here. The end is coming. And today is our last chance!” Uncle Taft came yelling through the kitchen.
“Uncle Taft, nothing is wrong,” said Lark soothingly.
“No, you don’t understand, everything is wrong,” he gasped.
Spooky Business (Jane Garbo Mysteries Book 1) Page 16