A Grave Situation

by Zoey Kane

  “Oh, dear Drac,” she said, feeling worn, “why not just sit on Zoey’s lap, but make sure to throw your beard away from my face. Would you settle for that?”

  “Oh, beauty, you are soooo kinky! Cough … cough … Another time. I seem to have developed a tickle in my throat.” He took a moment to compose himself, before adding, “I will climb the wall to your bedroom one night; that is, if Claire ever is absent.”

  “I am doubting that will happen.” Zo sang a little song: “She is still just a child, charming Drac. Charming Drac, she is still just a child … and cannot leave her mother.”

  “She’s in her twenties, yes?”

  “Still…” Zo’s eyes remained fixed, joking.

  “I will thing ub a new plan.” He raised his eyebrows a couple of times and drew back.

  “Okay, what’s the big clue?” asked Frank, with a disbelieving smile.

  Zo cleared her throat and said, “Meow!”

  “What? What kind of clue is that?!” scoffed Frank.

  Mr. Federbal sat up. “Meow?”

  “Yes.” Zo filled him and the sisters in about the attack. She then said, “I aggravated her, and asked her why she was coming after me. She said, ‘Meow.’”

  Frank made a connection, because of the stake. “Cheryl!”

  “Cheryl and the cat killings. Meow?” Federbal asked. “The killer is involved with both!”

  “Yes,” Zo agreed. “But what do you think about this? We have another mystery: A new character in the mix. After I was overpowered by the psycho, and thus passed out, a man saved me from certain doom.”

  Claire pulled back. “I don’t like hearing that, Mom.”

  “It wasn’t you, was it, Frank?” asked Zo.

  He shook his head. “No. I was with Jim the whole time.”

  Zo said, “I wonder if it’s the same person my daughter and I saw out in the cemetery the night we first met you, Mr. Federbal. When you screamed for help in your room…”

  “Hm,” Frank agreed. “That couldn’t have been me either, because I was running down the hall with you to Federman’s chamber.”

  “Federbal,” he fixed, and took a sip from his mug.

  Frank said, “Right. Anyway, it could have been any loony out there.”

  That comment ended that inquiry. Zo said, “Then I may never know who rescued me, I guess.”

  “Oh, my. I better have another glass of wine,” said Beth extending her glass to Dracula.

  “Me too, sister. We had better take a room tonight,” she said, extending her stemmed glass as well.

  “A room is always ready for the Binger sisters.” Their host did a slight bow and refilled their glasses.

  “How,” Claire asked, “is Cheryl connected to anything that would get her murdered? I kind of thought that she was mistaken for Lacey. But even so, why would anyone want to murder Lacey for impersonating Isobel? Big deal if she did!” She shook her head at the thought. It didn’t make sense.

  “One more clue,” added Federbal, setting down his drink and leaning forward over his belly. “I hear all the cats dug up at the cemetery had no blood in them.”

  “That’s what a couple officers told us they thought,” Claire noted.

  “Well, the town is overrun with bloodsucking devils … of the mortal variety, of course,” concluded Dracula. “Further…” He stood and waved his finger. “Cats? Everyone knows vampires are allergic to cats … and garlic. Can you imagine how disgusting a mouthful of fur would be to a vampire? We are not at all interested in coughing up furballs! It is unthinkable—ghaa!”

  Claire smiled. “We don’t think it’s you, so you can relax. By the way, calling the cops on the mob was brilliant.”

  “Sometimes the system worgs. I just knew they’d end up in my driveway.”

  “Mr. Federbal,” asked Zo, “was there ever a time that one of the Binger sisters wasn’t with you?”

  “Oh, hoohoo.” Beth’s lips formed a tight O as she laughed. “Sister, we are suspected of being either cat killers or the ones who murdered Cheryl and attacked Zo.”

  “My, my. Those are interesting scenarios to put us in. As you know, Beth is allergic to cats … but not garlic.” Lenora leaned toward Beth and whispered, “I said that because they might think we are vampires.”

  They giggled.

  “Although,” added Beth, “Lenora still finds a way to pet any cat that comes along the way. She loves them so much. She knows she has to change and wash her clothes in the utility room when she does that.”

  Lenora nodded. “The answer to your tough but righteous question, Zoey, is no. We’ve always been together tonight. The only time we have parted company for a moment is after we got back to the castle about an hour ago, to use the bathroom and remove our scary makeup. I discovered you can’t eat with pointy teeth; they have a way of stabbing the lower lip.”

  “Thanks for asking, though,” Beth giggled.

  Frank set an arm over the back of his chair, a mischievous glint in his dark eyes. “Jim,” he said, “you aren’t dressing up as a woman vamp and attacking Zoey, are you?”

  “I’d more likely attack Claire, as myself, while wearing my new shirt,” he said, followed by a stretch. He stood up and added, “I hate to be the first to leave the party, but I have to get up early tomorrow, and I want to get home while I still have courage to drive past the graveyard.”

  Everyone understood, and said their goodbyes.

  Then there was a group exodus of people going to their rooms. The Binger sisters took a tray to collect empty glasses, despite their host protesting.

  As the Kanes were headed toward the foyer’s staircase, the door knocker thundered.

  “What on Earth?” Zo said. “Who could that be?”

  Dracula came running to answer, his black robes billowing.

  “Be careful, I don’t like the sound of that knock,” said Zo, gripping the banister.

  He looked through a sliding peep-door enough to see who it was, and then let in Lacey. “Whad are you doing oud this time of night? It is dangerous, especially tonight.”

  “I know, but I just had to let everybody here know…”

  Mr. Federbal came halfway down the stairs. “Everything okay? That was a pretty aggressive knock.”

  “Come down, Gus,” Lacey said, stepping forward. She was wearing a simple sweater and tight jeans, raising her shoulders in anxiousness. “I want everyone to know this. I would feel better. I’m a little creeped out.”

  He finished coming down the stairs. “Okay, go ahead, we’re listening.”

  “I went back to the cemetery…”

  SIXTEEN

  “Lacey!” Dracula was obviously astonished she’d done such a dangerous and foolish thing, considering the uproar that’d been there only a couple hours earlier.

  “I know, I’ve learned my lesson,” she said. “I’m not going to be so selfish or foolish anymore. I promise. Especially for your sake.” She leaned into him, hugging him, her head on his shoulder.

  Dracula patted her back with his pointy claws, his expression softening.

  She continued. “I saw what those townspeople were capable of doing—to you.” The tears started. “And I’m so sorry to have caused you this trouble.”

  “Okay, okay. We will handle any issues, don’t worry.” He hugged her until she released him, wiping her eyes. “Now tell us what has you upset,” he said.

  “Anyway…” She sniffed. “I went back to the cemetery because I lost a special gold bracelet. I was very carefully walking, looking all around, because I felt unnerved, scared, which I usually don’t. I’m glad I was careful, because I spotted someone digging. So I hid behind a tree, looking around to make sure I was alone. I watched, too scared to run for possibly being discovered. I didn’t want to wind up like Cheryl. Anyway, I witnessed them digging a hole and throwing in about twenty cats or so.”

  “What? Again?” Zo said.

  Claire exhaled in astonishment.

  “I find that very intere
sting,” said Mr. Federbal, looking overtly bored for some reason. “Well, excuse me.” He started back up the stairs.

  “What kind of clothing was the person wearing?” Claire asked Lacey, thinking of the black trench coat and ghoulish mask her mother had testified of.

  “I couldn’t tell. All I could see were shapes. Mostly cat shapes. And then the digger trotted out and took off in a car, which I didn’t see either. I’m not a very good eyewitness, am I?”

  “Stay here tonight,” Zo said. “Don’t go back out.”

  Dracula said, his bristly eyebrows knitting together, “Oh, I wouldn’t let her out if she tried. This place will be on lockdown.”

  Everyone looked relieved, including Lacey.

  “The iron gate is coming down now,” he said, going over to a keypad beside the door. He pressed a sequence of numbers, after which a grumbling, mechanical sound rumbled the stone floors beneath their feet.

  Dracula turned back to the three women. “Now, there is nothing more safe than a castle on lockdown. No one answer the door. I have an intercom to talk to people outside the gate. And everyone lock your own doors. Especially you girls. Someone may be after you. And we don’t really know who is who, do we?!”

  Claire frowned in apprehension, and they each eyed one another.

  Dracula leaned into Zo and said discreetly, “I cannot climb up the wall to you tonight, my dear. Another time. Do not grieve.”

  “Alas!” she replied.

  *

  About three in the morning, Zo heard their host’s voice drifting, “Who is it?” And then say, “You will have to call tomorrow, we are closed absolutely.”

  After a long moment he said, “I can call the police for you. They can give you a lift to town and you can find a motel there.”

  Nothing more was said.

  Zo got up and looked out her second-story stone-block window. She saw a dark figure walking back down the road. After they got to the bottom, Zo’s eyes straining to discern more through the dusty window in the dark, she spotted headlights. A car was driving away.

  *

  Zo and Claire came down to breakfast at nine o’clock. The only person there was Frank. Mr. Federbal was out early on errands. The Binger sisters said they had to get home; they had chores to do. Lacey wanted to get home before the ghouls got up. When their host came to the table with a platter of frozen breakfast burritos, he apologized and said he didn’t get much sleep.

  Dracula sat down and ate with them for once, cutting his burrito with a knife and forking it mannerly into his mouth.

  It was quiet for a while, everyone deep in their own thoughts, when Frank said between bites, “So Lacey was impersonating the ghost. I knew she couldn’t be trusted. Like I’ve said, there’s no such thing as ghosts.”

  The Kanes didn’t respond. But Dracula’s eyes narrowed, seeming to take offense for the girl. “She’s made some terrible mistakes, for sure, but we all do at some time in our lives. The child has learned her lesson.”

  For once, Frank didn’t have a retort. He just grumbled something indiscernible under his breath.

  Dracula set down his fork and, thinking, rubbed his black wardrobe with the palms of his hands. “Last night,” he said, “someone with a whispering voice wanted to take a room, saying that their car broke down.”

  Everyone turned to him, pausing their chewing.

  “They also wanted to know if their friend Lacey was spending the night,” he said. “It scared me. I kept envisioning a psychopathic killer sneaking into my room with blood on a stake from murdering everyone in their bedrooms. Vampires are terrified of psycho Van Helsings, you know.”

  SEVENTEEN

  Claire called the police department after breakfast, wanting to know if there’d been a report yet of another cat grave at the old Hall Cemetery.

  “Not yet,” said the man on the phone. “We will send over an officer to take a look.”

  So Zo and Claire decided to make good use of their time and head over to the sisters’ house. Maybe get a chance to meet their neighbor Edna.

  Their cottage was very cute with its working, faded teal storm shutters. Affixed to the mailbox pole was a wind whirl-a-gig, a captain standing at the front of a boat and a sailor sitting at the back with spinning oars.

  Edna’s mailbox was right beside theirs, but raised twelve inches higher. Zo remembered the story of their Penny’s catalogs getting mixed up.

  When the Kanes approached the Binger’s cottage door, they immediately noticed a note taped to it: “Had to go into town for yeast. Back soon.”

  “Well, let’s go see Edna, then,” said Claire.

  A weather-worn woman answered the door. She had near-white thin hair and wore a man’s short-sleeved, red-striped, button up. Her white tennis shoes were run over on the sides. The woman waited for the two strangers to state their business.

  “Hi, we’re Zoey and Claire Kane,” Zo said. “We’re investigating all the cat killings and we heard you lost your dear kitty. We’re here to get your possible knowledge, if we may.”

  Edna didn’t waste any time. Her voice was sharp and a bit wheezy. “At first I thought it was those hateful Binger sisters that killed my cat like a vampire, ‘cause I took my cat to Doctor Fulton and he said the cat didn’t have any blood in him.”

  “You took your cat to your family doctor?” asked Claire.

  The old lady laughed a smoker’s laugh. “No. Tha’d be crazy! He’s a vet.”

  Beyond the woman, they could see her furniture was visibly worn out, just like her shoes.

  “You say you first thought that a Binger killed your cat,” said Claire. “Have you changed your mind?”

  “I have. Too many cats, and I’m hearing they’ve died from the same thing. Even the Bingers couldn’t drink that much blood—ha ha ha.”

  Zo said, “So, they really are terrible people?”

  “Naw. If I didn’t have them to play games against, I’d have no fun. I’m alone. My only friend was my cat, Dennis. That was the name of my last husband. He died twenty years ago. Didn’t leave me anything.”

  “How about the Binger sisters? Have they been married?” Zo inserted.

  “Old maids! Both of ‘em. However, they’ve recently taken up with some fat ol’ guy in a bowler hat. What a sight.” She shook her head at the thought.

  The three shared a bit of laughter.

  Feeling sympathy for the woman who had so little, Zo said, “The foundation I’m associated with has heard of the unfortunate demise of your dear kitty, Dennis. And there are many things this foundation does, including feeling compassion for people who have lost a pet that was a beloved member of the family. A loss that is not easily replaced.” She paused. “Edna, what is your full name, dear?”

  With curiosity, the woman answered, “Edna Gayle Mavis.”

  Zo took a checkbook out from her purse and made an entry. “I hope you will accept this bereavement check. It’d make the foundation very happy if you do.” She handed it to Edna.

  The woman took it with hesitation. “Oh, is this true? It’s for two hundred thousand dollars.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I suggest you buy a couple of things and live off the rest for a while.”

  Claire smiled and nodded, confirming it was so.

  Edna slid some glasses down from her hair and peeked through them. “There’s no address for a thank-you. It just says ‘The Lilly Fillmore Foundation.’”

  Zo said, “They don’t expect thank-yous. Go to town, get the money into your account, and then buy a couple of things.

  “Who’s Lilly Fillmore?”

  “Another person who needed rescuing,” Zo simply said.

  The Kanes turned and descended the dilapidated porch, shutting the little metal gate carefully as they left.

  Edna called to them: “Well, thank you! Thank you so much! Still, let Lilly know for me, won’tcha?”

  Claire turned back. “I will…”

  “Well, we did learn one thing,” Zo said as they w
alked down to the sidewalk.

  “What’s that?”

  “Cocoa’s husband is a veterinarian.”

  Claire nodded as they strolled over to their car, parked along the street. “All these cat killings must be especially hard on them. And to think, their own missing cat may be next…”

  Zo pouted a lip as she approached the passenger side. “It’s so sad.”

  EIGHTEEN

  Besides Cocoa’s missing cat notices, posted up on telephone poles and business windows, were pictures from the CAWV vs. vampires fight.

  “Look right there, John,” someone said to their buddy. “That’s me getting a tomato in the puss from guess what vampire?

  “Who?”

  “Judge Calhoun.”

  John bent down to take a closer look.

  “Let’s drop in on Kellen,” suggested Zo, as they approached a stoplight. “He’s probably teaching little girls right now. How cute, huh?”

  Kellen was on the phone at a desk and Patrick was teaching beginners ballet to six-year-old children. He was like a lead duck with eight little ducklings in a row, and being very smiley and tolerant.

  When Kellen got off the phone, he got right up and came over to the two standing in the foyer. “I’ve been hearing a rumor. Somebody tried to beat you up last night—a vampire enthusiast.”

  “I think if she’d had a chance,” Zo said while draping some long hair over a shoulder, “she would have killed me, but I was rescued.”

  Kellen said, most serious, “Have you ever thought of getting out of this sick community and going home where it’s safe?”

  “Not our style, Kellen,” Claire said with a smile. “We do dumb stuff. Take, for instance, in the dark and stormy night, we go up to the attic to find who the crazy guy is. We go down in the dark basement and back up without looking behind us. When people are getting killed, Mom chooses to fight the slasher killer with a tomato.”