Beneath the Mall of Madness (A Jaspar Windisle Mystery Book 1)

by A. D. Folmer

“Don’t forget to come back,” he said from upstairs. “But don’t bring that bossy witch with you.”

  Cecilia scolded me some more when I got into the van. She reminded me that no one would have known where to look for me if I’d been trapped. It was clear she thought the house was abandoned. I wondered if Fiona was equally ignorant of her other neighbor. I could see his lights from Obadiah’s house, but the cliff curved outward. They might be hidden from her. The short drive kept Cecilia’s lecture brief. We piled the magazines into her van. As we worked, I thought I heard strange noises coming from the basement. I was getting used to the sound of the machine, but this sounded like chanting. I went to the hatch and listened. It was Dr. Cassidy’s voice, overlapping with a lower, male voice. There was something structured and familiar about what she was saying. Finally, I placed the chanting and relaxed. She was reading logic problems out loud. The other voice was just her machine. I swung one of the hatches open, letting it slam into the ground so she would know I was there. The chanting stopped, and her voice drifted up to me.

  “Who’s there?”

  “It’s me.”

  I told her I was leaving. She followed us to the driveway and waved as we left.

  “I’ll have my machine completed soon,” she said, “I think you’ll be impressed with the new version.”

  “I’ll look forward to it,” I told her.

  Chapter 22: More cultists, or the men in black?

  The hotel parking lot was full when we got there. There were some cars I recognized, but most of them were new. Cecilia stopped her van by the side of the road, and I did likewise.

  “What do you think?” She asked. “More cultists or the men in black?”

  “It could be tourists,” I suggested. “You’ve been expecting more ever since that video went on the internet.”

  “True,” she agreed. “But all at the same time?”

  “Maybe they’re having a convention.”

  “I don’t think so.” As we were talking, a man got out of one of the cars.

  “I recognize him,” I said to Cecilia. “He cornered me at the sports store. He said chupacabras had killed his brother.” Cecilia squinted.

  “I don’t know him,” she said, “Not that that means anything. Most of the construction crew wasn’t from around here. He’s sure acting suspiciously.”

  “Do you think so?”

  “He must have been sitting in his car for a while if we didn’t see him pull in, and he looks like he’s hiding something.” We continued to watch as he made his way into the hotel.

  “Why’d he corner you?” she asked. I told her about his search for someone to blame. Her eyes widened.

  “His brother was eaten by chupacabras and he doesn’t blame . . . the chupacabras?”

  “Don’t look at me like that,” I said. “I don’t understand it.” I sort of did. If he wanted to fight someone, it would be a lot easier to win a fight with me than a radish monster. Besides, they were gone now. Probably.

  “The day’s not getting any younger and no one’s coming out,” I said finally. “Let’s go in and see what’s going on.”

  “If you really think so,” Cecilia began. She was interrupted by a scream from inside the hotel. I started towards the hotel. Cecilia grabbed my arm.

  “Wait,” she said. The door of the hotel was flung open, and the man came back out in a rush. He didn’t make it to the sidewalk. A tentacle shot out of the hotel and wrapped around his waist. He screamed again and was yanked back into the hotel.

  We looked at each other.

  “Maybe before we go in we should call the front desk,” I said, “and ask them if that really just happened.”

  “But then they’ll know we’re on to them,” she said reasonably. “I know! Let’s go to my place. I’m a witch, remember? We can spy on them with magic.” I didn’t know how witchcraft would help in this situation, but I agreed. Before we went inside, I called Steve.

  “What’s up?” he asked. “Is there a problem with the house?”

  “No, we saw something suspicious at the hotel, so Cecilia’s going to spy on the front desk with witchcraft.”

  “Okay . . . mind if I come and watch?”

  I asked Cecilia.

  “Go right ahead.”

  I unloaded the magazines from her car while Cecilia redid her hair and changed clothes as we waited for Steve to arrive.

  “Is that necessary?” I asked her.

  “Of course,” she said, “it’s important to be in the appropriate state of mind when doing witchcraft.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  Steve showed up looking excited.

  “No one’s answering the phones at the hotel or the bar,” he said.

  “Let’s find out why,” Cecilia said. I thought it had something to do with the tentacle monster, myself. She sat us down at her kitchen table. She poured a line of salt out onto the tablecloth in a rough circle, then placed a blue mixing bowl in the middle of the circle. She filled the bowl with water and added hot chocolate mix. It clumped on the surface, and she stirred it until the center was clear.

  “It’s a packet I took from the hotel,” she explained. “It makes focusing easier.” When the water settled, it revealed an image of the hotel lobby.

  “Looks like it was the men in black,” I said.

  “It’s like a small army,” Steve said. “Are the Whateleys drug runners or something?”

  “No!” Cecilia said. The picture changed. Mr. and Mrs. Whateley were being interrogated. Men wearing gloves and face masks were exploring the hotel. Zebulon was also being questioned. My old room was being ransacked.

  “Do you think it’s the FBI?” I asked. “We didn’t really answer any of their questions yesterday.”

  “I did make a scene when the giant squid appeared,” Steve admitted. “I would have thought they’d be more focused on that than anything that happened at the hotel. I haven’t heard a word about them wanting access to the construction site today.”

  “It was probably a mistake to rent to those to agents,” Cecilia said. “They must have seen one too many strange things and called in reinforcements.” I think she meant the goldfish, but I was thinking of the trophy room.

  “The Whateleys will be all right then, won’t they?” I said. “It doesn’t look like they’ve noticed the goldfish, and there’s nothing else weird in the hotel, is there?”

  “What about your necromancer gear?” Steve asked.

  “I keep it with me at all times,” I said. “It’s mostly natural ability, anyway.”

  “If they’re interrogating people in the hotel they might want to question you,” Cecilia told me. “My spells are only on the police station.”

  I stared at the image. That was a lot of FBI agents.

  “Should I get it over with or should I go into hiding?” I wondered.

  “Hide,” Steve said. “Sure, it’ll look bad, but do you really want to end up in Gitmo?”

  “What?” Cecilia said. She sounded shocked.

  “You may not have noticed, but Jaspar isn’t exactly human. That’s the kind of loophole Homeland Security’s been exploiting for years.” I winced.

  “You don’t have to say it out loud,” I told him. “At least one of those men isn’t human either.”

  “That changes things,” Cecilia said. “Hmmm. I could cast a ‘don’t notice me’ spell on you, but you wouldn’t be able to check out of the hotel. And you’d almost certainly get in a traffic accident.”

  “Maybe I can get you a new identity,” Steve offered. “I know some people who do good work on short notice.”

  “I don’t want to give up my life!” I protested. “I’ve got things going well for once and my job depends on my reputation, which I’ll lose if I change my name. Besides, we can’t hear what they’re saying. Maybe they aren’t interested in me. I can spend the night somewhere else, and get my stuff when they leave.”

  “I don’t think you understand -” Steve began. />
  Whatever I didn’t understand was interrupted by a knock at the back door.

  “FBI, open up!” Someone whispered on the other side. Cecilia looked out the windows in alarm.

  “Hide!” She told me. She shoved me into her linen closet and shut the door. There was barely enough room for me between the shelves and the door. There was no way I was staying in there, even for a second. When I tried to open the door, I found that thanks to the shelves my hands were trapped below my waist. I was stuck in here until the door was opened from the outside. I tried not to scream, and I was beyond relieved when the door opened again almost immediately.

  “False alarm,” Cecilia said.

  Agent Starr and Agent Steiner were standing in the kitchen.

  “Never, ever do that again,” I told Cecilia. I focused on getting my breathing back to normal and my heart rate down. I hate enclosed spaces.

  “Sorry, I panicked.”

  “Well, don’t.”

  “I’m glad to see you guys,” Agent Steiner said. I guess Steve had left the room, too.

  “Those aren’t FBI agents,” Agent Starr said after glancing into the mixing bowl. “Or at least some of them aren’t.” He did a double take. “Is this a magic bowl?”

  “How do you know?” Steve asked, ignoring the agent’s question.

  “One of them is dead,” Agent Starr said. “I went to his funeral over a year ago, and unlike some people around here he didn’t have an endless supply of identical relatives.”

  “Could it be Dr. Finch?” I asked.

  “I hope not,” Agent Starr said. “That thing was immune to bullets.”

  “Are you sure? No one’s seen it since you shot it.”

  “I was watching,” Agent Steiner said. “Believe me; it didn’t act like it had been injured.”

  “Okay, so they’re fakes,” Cecilia said, concentrating on the important thing. “What brings you to my house?”

  “They sent us to arrest Earl,” Agent Steiner said. “One of them said he was at the witch’s house, and you’re the only witch we’ve met.”

  Cecilia groaned. “That kind of sexism is so obnoxious, even if it is coming from doppelgangers. All female magic users are not witches!” Agents Steiner and Starr looked at each other.

  “So . . . whose house were we supposed to go to?”

  “Why should we tell you?” I asked. “Considering everything that’s happened, I can’t imagine anything good happening to Earl if he’s taken away by the cultists.”

  “Neither can I,” Steve said.

  “We weren’t really going to arrest him,” Agent Starr said. “That’s why we came to the back of the house. We need him to help us.”

  “They’ve got hostages,” Agent Steiner continued. “At this rate, any SWAT team we called would turn out to be zombies or leprechauns or something.”

  “Plus, Earl’s had experience with this sort of thing,” Agent Starr said. “Have you seen his rap sheet?”

  “I’m telling you; you’ve got him confused with someone else,” Agent Steiner said. “He can’t be that old.”

  “I’ll call the female wizard and ask her what she thinks,” Cecilia said.

  Earl was indeed with Fiona. He seemed amenable to sorting out the fake FBI agents.

  “But let’s wait,” he said. “Give it until nightfall. If they aren’t human, they might not recognize the Whateley's value as hostages.”

  “And if they are?” I asked. “Don’t forget, this is the same cult that’s been murdering people in the marsh at night. We can’t wait until tomorrow.”

  “You’re right.” Earl was quiet for a moment. “They’re at the police station too so we can’t get any weapons from there, and there are too many for what we’ve got with us. Zebulon stores most of his collection at the hotel, so we have to assume that if they weren’t well-armed before they are now.”

  “So what are we going to do?” Cecilia asked.

  “They’re studying all the supernatural phenomenon right?” Earl said. “So we’ll lure them out with some supernatural phenomenon, and pick them off one by one.”

  “Where are we going to get supernatural phenomenon on short notice?” Agent Starr asked.

  “Fiona and I spent the morning rounding up all the portal penguins we could find. We were going to send them back to whence they came, but we can use them as a diversion instead. We’ll release the whole truckload of them in the hotel parking lot.”

  While we waited, I went back to the Fry house along with Steve, to let Dr. Cassidy know what was going on. Steve didn’t care about what the doctor was doing and didn’t want either of us to go at first. Cecilia insisted that he go with me, since I clearly couldn’t look after myself. It stung; I’ll admit.

  The chanting was louder than it had been a few hours ago. The male voice was stronger. Steve and I stood at the entrance to the storm cellar and stared at each other.

  “I’m not armed,” I said. “How about you?”

  “I have a few wizard tricks prepared,” he said. “I’d intended to use them at the hotel. This seems more urgent.”

  “Yes,” I said. “Do you want to go first?”

  He shook his head.

  “You’d better. She’s interested in you. In cases of possession that can give you an advantage. If nothing else, the possessor might stay calm to try to trick you.” I took a deep breath and descended into the cellar.

  Just like last time, Cassandra stopped chanting when she became aware of me. Something in my coat started wriggling. Both Sparks and my amber moths were reacting to something in the room in a negative fashion.

  “Back so soon?” Cassandra asked, as if she hadn’t just been reciting logic problems like an evil philosophical spell.

  “There’s trouble at the hotel,” I said. “I know you said the logic problems helped you relax, but this isn’t what I’d call relaxing.” She pouted.

  “It works for me,” she said. “This book you gave me is amazing though. I think it holds the key to making my machine work.”

  I doubted that. Or if it did, the machine would do whatever the logic ghost wanted it to.

  “Do you always recite logic problems aloud when you’re working them out?” I asked.

  “No,” she said. She was staring at me appraisingly. “It seemed right for these.” She drifted closer to me. Her voice lowered. “You’ve been somewhere you shouldn’t have, haven’t you, Mr. Windisle?”

  “No,” I said. It wasn’t a lie, technically. Legion hadn’t been upset by my breaking in, so it was okay retroactively. That was the story I was sticking to, anyway.

  “Yes you have,” she said. That deeper voice was back again. I tried not to freak out. “Such a shame. I thought you were so proper it wouldn’t matter that you had Obadiah’s favorite coat. I’m rarely wrong, you know.” She was close enough to touch me, and I knew what was going on.

  “Only when it counts, eh, Noah?” I said. Cassandra straightened as if I’d slapped her. “Obadiah didn’t care for logic problems, but he would never throw away a gift, would he? How many other people are holding onto traps you made?” Cassandra was glaring at me. “How many paths to immortality did you try to pursue?” I put my hand on Cassandra’s face. I could feel it, nebulous as any other shade. This time, I didn’t press it gently into place. I grabbed it and yanked. Cassandra looked at me with a dazed expression, then at what I was holding.

  “What’s that?” she whispered.

  The ghost of Noah Whateley glared at me, his hands clutching at my arm, trying to break my grip. He was taller than me, and in life he would have been much stronger than me. As a shade, his strength was nothing compared to mine. I should have felt superior. The only trouble was now that I’d caught him I had no idea what to do with him.

  “Jesus Christ,” Steve said, taking it all in. “I’ve never encountered a real ghost before.”

  “Neither have I,” I said. That had to be what this was. Noah Whateley was far too articulate in death to be a shade. He w
as cursing me in languages I didn’t even know.

  “Is there any end to the Whateley clan?” Steve asked.

  “Not while this man is around, I’m guessing,” I said. I sighed. “Are you all right, Dr. Cassidy?”

  “I’m not sure,” she said. “Did you pull that out of me?”

  “Yes, and please, accept my apology for giving you a cursed book.”

  “Oh no,” she said. “I did ask for it.” I returned my attention to Noah Whateley.

  “What will it take to get you to rest in peace?” I asked him.

  “I’ll never rest!” He told me. “Never!”

  “Call Fiona and ask her if she knows where he’s interred,” I told Steve. “No, wait. Let’s go next door. I think I know someone who can help us out.”

  “Fiona is at Ms. Bishop’s,” Steve reminded me.

  “No, the other next door,” I corrected him. “I know a shortcut.”

  Finding out he owned yet another property with hidden tunnels proved too much for Steve. He didn’t say a word as we all trekked into the tunnel and over to Legion’s house. Once he realized where we were, Noah Whateley really began making a fuss. I barely touched the basement door when it was flung open. Legion looked upon the ghost of his former master with unholy glee.

  “We’re going to be best friends, Jaspar,” he told me. “You bring me such nice surprises.” He was wearing the red coat and a pirate hat. I hoped it would be enough to fool Cassandra. She’d followed us and was muttering to herself about assessments and analysis. Legion reached out and grabbed the ghost. Noah Whateley screamed and heaped verbal abuse upon his former servant.

  “Follow me if you’d like,” Legion told us. Since I was still holding onto the ghost, I didn’t have much of a choice. Steve followed me. Dr. Cassidy pulled out a tape measure.

  “I wouldn’t want to intrude,” she said. “I’ll just wait out here. Do you have a pen by any chance?”

  “Take care,” I told her, handing her one. She got busy measuring the tunnel. I suppose she hadn’t given up on her machine, even after all this.

  Legion led us upstairs, through the dining room and down a hallway until we reached a workroom of some sort. Steve took in the powders and vials lying out with interest. Legion went straight to the desk in the back of the room and picked up a bell jar.