As the most famous haunted house in the world, we tried to maintain our creepy reputation, which was why the haunted house was mostly dark now. We didn’t keep lights on at night. We were not worried about burglars. They all lived in the basement already.
I watched as the three guys trapped the ghost. With dismay I realized that even so, we weren’t going to be able to interrogate him. He was choosing to pass on and disappear into nothing to avoid giving us any information.
I closed my eyes in frustration. Someone was trying to kill Cookie. They had just taken another shot and almost succeeded. And we still had no idea who it was.
Chapter Twenty-Three
After the shock of what had happened in the night, I stayed in bed a little longer than usual the next morning. I imagined that Mom would want to give a speech about the dangers of going off on your own, which was really a lecture about Cookie’s safety and what we were supposed to do going forward. I imagined Cookie falling asleep in the middle of it. Shortly after that the two of them would disappear to argue amongst themselves. Luckily, that was highly unlikely ever to happen in real life.
At breakfast, I sighed and tried to focus on the conversation at hand.
“Why is Lizzie spending so much time with Cookie?” Corey asked.
I shrugged. “Maybe she’s just worried about her.”
“I highly doubt that’s true,” said Cam.
Most of the family had come to breakfast at the same time for once. We had only just sat down in the Magenta Room when Rose came trotting in wearing a smart-looking gray suit.
“We have a visitor. It’s the Vice Chancellor,” she said.
“What’s he doing here?” Mom asked.
“I have a feeling I know,” said Meg, who was wearing a red shirt and black jeans. “He probably heard about what happened to Cookie in the middle of the night and wanted to check in.”
After the ghost had disappeared, the guys had gone to get Grant. He’d been sleeping and had been both surprised and concerned. Cookie had refused to be interviewed and said that she was going back to bed. As an old lady, her sleep patterns simply could not be disrupted. Or so she insisted.
We all knew that wasn’t true. She only slept about three hours a night, and they were whichever three hours she was bored. But she was not to be coerced into bowing to anyone else’s agenda.
Even though there was no ghost left to interrogate, his point of entry needed to be examined. Grant and the other guys spread out through the haunted house to make sure there were no other immediate dangers. When Grant was satisfied that the house was quiet, he left. I assumed that he was the one who had informed the Vice Chancellor of this latest development in the case.
“We have to get outside before he tries to talk to Cookie,” I said.
“You go save her from herself. I’m going to finish breakfast,” said Lark.
Without waiting for any further comments, I pushed my chair back, grabbed a piece of French toast, and hurried out of the breakfast room.
I was too late. The Vice Chancellor was standing by the cauldron talking to Cookie and Lizzie. My cousin was smiling brightly, while Cookie was doing her best to splash terrible-looking liquid on the Vice Chancellor’s shiny new shoes.
When she saw me, Lizzie’s face fell.
“So good of you to come. So sorry we weren’t here to greet you before,” Lizzie simpered.
“Not to worry. Mrs. Garbo was here, and she’s always entertaining,” said the Vice Chancellor with a jovial smile.
If Cookie had hackles, they would have been raised. She did not like this man. She tried to splash another ladle full of glop onto his shiny shoes, but without any fanfare he shifted his position just in time to avoid it.
“I just came to see how Cookie was doing,” said Mr. Nutcracker.
“She’s frail, but she’s strong,” Lizzie said. She tried to pat Cookie on the shoulder, but my grandmother shifted and Lizzie ended up patting air and stumbling in the process.
“Excuse me, but we must get going,” said one of Mr. Nutcracker’s aides. The Vice Chancellor sighed and glanced at the mansion.
“Has there been any news of other strange things going on around here?” he asked.
“It’s a haunted house. You’ll have to be more specific when you say strange,” said Cookie
“Anyone going missing?” he said.
“I’ve been trying for years,” said Cookie.
“No, of course not,” said Lizzie, shaking her head.
Neither Cookie nor I said a word.
The aide tapped her watch and Mr. Nutcracker nodded. “Very well. I’ll see you all again soon.”
“I don’t like threats,” Cookie muttered as he walked away.
As the day wore on, the question of what to do about the situation nagged at me so much that I had a hard time concentrating on my haunted house tasks. I was extremely frustrated with the lack of a resolution; maybe I hadn’t been sitting idly by, but I hadn’t solved the case, either.
After another attempt on Cookie’s life, it was time to take action. We couldn’t just sit around and wait for assassins to show up at the haunted house trying to kill Cookie.
Putting my coat on, I went out into the evening darkness. I had something I wanted to check on at Evangeline’s.
I knocked on her cottage door and waited. The light turned off, then came back on. I waited some more. Eventually, a grouchy-looking ghost opened the door.
“Oh, I didn’t know you were here,” I said. I had no idea that a ghost worked for Evangeline.
“I didn’t know you were coming,” said the ghost grumpily.
“Who is it?” Evangeline asked, coming out of the kitchen to see for herself in a very grown-up-looking robe. When she saw me she shrugged.
“I suppose I should be grateful it’s not Cookie,” she said.
“Does she come here often?” I said.
“Not anymore,” she said. “What can I help you with?”
“I saw the lights going on and off. I wondered if you might need help with anything,” I said. It was kind of a lame excuse, but I couldn’t come up with anything else on the fly.
Not having been to Evangeline’s cottage in years, I had forgotten how sterile and boring it was. Even though it was built of stone and looked charming from the outside, the inside was minimalist and modern. I didn’t see one piece of furniture that looked comfortable or practical.
“Am I not allowed to have my own lights on when I please?” she asked.
Of course she was.
I turned to go just as a thump sounded from upstairs. I glanced up and then at Evangeline. Her expression hadn’t changed, but her eyes had taken on a hardness. The ghost didn’t move.
“Do you have a cat?” I asked. It did briefly cross my mind that Rose could’ve snuck into an open window.
“No, I do not have any pets,” she said.
“What was that noise?” I asked.
“I’ll go check the minute you leave,” she said dismissively.
I didn’t know what to say or do. Evangeline didn’t seem concerned about the noise. If she had been worried that it was a burglar, she might have wanted me to stick around. But she obviously wasn’t, and didn’t.
“Sorry to bother you. I guess I should get going,” I said.
“Have a good night,” said Evangeline. She stepped forward, opened the door, and wasted no time ushering me out. The ghost gave me a look that said that’s what you get for interfering.
Evangeline closed the door with a snap. As I walked slowly away I glanced up at the second floor of the cottage. There were no lights on. It might have been my imagination, but I was pretty sure one of the curtains moved as I walked away.
Did Evangeline have a visitor? I wondered if maybe Jacob had snuck into the cottage, but on reflection I highly doubted it. Jacob didn’t seem like the shy type. If he were sneaking into Evangeline’s, everyone would know about it. Therefore, remove the “sneaking” part of that speculation.
Could Evangeline have something to do with the cases we were working on? Somebody was trying to kill Cookie, and it was a known fact that Evangeline didn’t like her. I didn’t think their falling out was so serious that it would lead to murder, but given how unhappy Evangeline was in my presence, I wondered if I needed to reevaluate the whole situation.
I was on my way back to the house when Rose trotted up. “Were you just at Evangeline’s cottage?” I asked her.
“You think I’d break into somebody’s house?” Rose asked.
“You’re a cat. Breaking in isn’t the same sort of thing for you as it would be for me,” I said.
“I would never break in there. I’ve never seen a mouse anywhere near it, and the place is really boring. Looking around at people’s stuff is fun, but not Evangeline’s,” said Rose.
Just then Grant came around the side of the house. He was dressed in his uniform and looked like he was in a hurry. I immediately felt butterflies in my stomach.
“Hey,” I said to him.
He started to smile, then his eyes traveled downward until they landed on Rose. The cat was very smart. She knew that sometimes it was better to do less rather than more. Instead of doing anything crazy, she just sat at my feet and started to purr.
This tactic worked on Grant. He looked more uncomfortable than ever.
“Hey. What brings you out tonight?” He swallowed hard.
“Just taking a walk,” I said. He glanced behind me. I realized now that it looked like I was coming from his cottage. I didn’t say anything about it, and he didn’t ask if that’s what I was up to. At least the confusion covered my true purpose.
“I should get going. We have a lead in the case. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said with a tip of the hat. Then he rushed off again.
“That man is petrified of me,” said Rose with satisfaction.
“We all have to be afraid of something. Even His Majesty of Magic.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Back inside, I decided to do some reading. Today had been long and eventful, and I wanted to be comfortable as I kept Cookie company.
Cookie had gone upstairs to rest a long time ago. She hadn’t wanted to go back to Edmund’s for dinner, which was where most of my family had gone.
Lark and Pep had also decided to stay at the mansion. We planned to take shifts all night, staying awake and on guard. I had chosen the first shift and they had gone to get some rest. Not until the assassin was caught would all of us be sleeping at the same time again.
My mom had argued the wisdom of a bunch of them going to dinner, but Cookie had insisted that life couldn’t stop just because there was “a crazed magical assassin on the loose.” That hadn’t made my mother feel any better, but Edmund was powerful, and she hoped he might have some helpful suggestions about how to solve these cases. In the end she went to dinner.
I didn’t know where Grant was, so I wanted to be sure I was alert and ready in case another assassin came. My mother and Meg had gone around the property performing enchantments, so my mom didn’t think we’d have any more unexpected visitors. The ghosts, vampires, skeletons, and le-haunts had all agreed to keep an eye on each other.
Before I went to the library I double-checked that the locks were in place in the mailroom. I didn’t want any surprises from Down Below either. I had started to form a theory about what had happened there, but I wasn’t sure how to test it. Maybe after tonight I’d have a better idea.
Sitting before the wide library windows, I had perfect view of the grassy lawn. This was my favorite spot to read. I was so absorbed in my book that at first the sight of something skittering across the lawn didn’t register. When I looked up again I saw a dark shape move. Frowning, I tried to keep reading, telling myself that there couldn’t be anything dangerous out there given all the enchantments Mom and Meg had scattered around.
When a flash of shadow passed across the window again, I looked up. This time I thought I had an idea of what I’d seen, but it was hardly believable. Shaking my head at my own foolishness, I tried one more time to get back to my book.
Now there was a knocking. I knew where it was coming from, and I knew I’d have to answer the mailroom door. Sighing heavily, I wondered what Peter wanted. I put my book down and headed for the mailroom.
There was a message from Sharon waiting for me in the mailbox. It was brief. She thought she had seen something outside as well. She had been in Jefferson Judge’s room, looking out the only window. It struck me as bit odd that she had been in Judge’s room, but I unbolted the mailroom door anyway. Before I pushed back the last bolt, I took a moment to consider.
What if someone Down Below—let’s say Fudgy, for obvious reasons—was behind the attempts on Cookie’s life?
The bottom line was, I didn’t think the Fudge was the kind of criminal who’d want to kill Cookie. He might be a jewel thief and a boss of jewel thieves, but he just didn’t strike me as the assassin type.
Whatever that was.
Nor did I think he was the type to hire other supernaturals as assassins.
With that comforting thought, I pushed back the last bolt.
And there was Sharon. Her eyes looked a little wild and her hair a little messy.
“Hey, you said you saw something?” I asked her.
“Yes, so I wanted to take a look outside. But I didn’t want to leave Down Below without talking to you first.” She gave me a nice smile.
I stared off into the distance. It looked calm outside, but for how long? If I did what Sharon was asking, I’d be in a lot of trouble. My mom might have made me the new liaison to Down Below, but I was sure she didn’t mean that I could just go do whatever I wanted.
Then again, they had left. Somehow it was more important to comply when summoned by important members in the supernatural world than it was to stay and protect the family.
If I was to be left here alone, then I was in charge. It was up to me to decide which course of action was best.
The offer of help from Sharon was too much to turn down, so I didn’t.
“Okay. You can come. Just this once. Follow my lead,” I said.
She stepped into the mailroom and I pushed the door closed and replaced the locks.
It only took us a few steps to get outside. We started walking carefully across the lawn in the cool night air.
“What did you think you were seeing?” I asked her. It would be interesting to see if our stories aligned.
“I saw a spider. I know there was a spider involved in the murder you’re investigating, so I thought you’d want to know. I’ve started to wonder if the spider did it,” she said.
She was actually echoing something I had been considering. Orwell had motive and opportunity, at least if you believed that Blu had indeed been putting Orwell’s job at risk.
I wasn’t entirely sure I believed it, nor was I entirely certain that Orwell was even capable of murder. But some of the other spiders that had chased us out of the woods definitely were.
“I think it’s this way. Let’s walk toward the cottages,” said Sharon.
That was in fact the direction where I had seen the shape, but now I was starting to wonder if it had just been a deer or something equally harmless.
“The official investigator lives out here, by the way,” I said. Something made me want to warn her away from doing too much snooping. She was, after all, a criminal in her own right.
“Thanks for letting me come up. I know it’s strictly against the rules,” she offered.
She was right about that. If you lived Down Below you are supposed to stay Down Below, and my mom had always enforced that rule strictly. No one ever argued with her about it.
“Should we see if the investigator wants to join us?” Sharon asked. She was looking down the lane toward Grant’s cottage.
“No, I don’t think he’s there,” I told her.
“That’s too bad. I was hoping to meet the famous His Majesty of Magic. I’ve heard so much about
him. I heard he can solve any case and does with ease. Criminals live in fear of him and witches and warlocks from coast to coast fall at his feet,” she said.
“He’s very good at his job,” I agreed through gritted teeth.
I was trying to remain neutral, but Sharon glanced at me as if she had noticed the tightness that had crept into my voice.
“Who lives in this one?” she asked.
I told her about Evangeline and how long she’d been there. I told her what a good witch she was.
“Have you asked her if she’s harboring a fugitive?” Sharon asked.
I stopped dead. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about Jefferson Judge,” she said flatly. “If the crown hasn’t left the property, then Jefferson hasn’t either. So what’s he doing? Chasing after the thief? I doubt it. He could have murdered Blu and stayed here with the crown. He’s biding his time until he can get away. We have to check the cottage.”
“You can’t check the cottage. You’re from Down Below. Evangeline will never allow it,” I told her.
Sharon’s face darkened. She looked ready to argue, then the lines on her forehead smoothed out.
She stared at the cottage, where the lights flicked on and off again.
“They’re sending a signal. I don’t know from whom or to whom, but we should get help. I’ll go,” she whispered excitedly. She had turned to leave when I stopped her.
“You can’t let anyone else out of Down Below. Not even Peter,” I warned her. I almost told her to go get Cookie, but my grandmother had a selection of booby-traps waiting for anyone who came calling who wasn’t family. Maybe for family as well.
“Maybe this is a bad idea,” said Sharon, suddenly stopping.
“You can’t get back Down Below without my help,” I told her.
“Maybe I’ll just go wait by the door until you’re ready to let me in,” she said.
I didn’t really understand her sudden change of heart. Not wanting her to worry, though, I told her she could leave if she wanted.
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