“I think I see something!” said Pep, pointing to a spot on the beach below us.
“I see it too,” I said. There was a figure coming out of the water and walking slowly through the shallows toward the beach. Unable to tell who it was, I swallowed hard and glanced over to check on Lark’s progress.
“We have to go down there and help her,” Pep said.
“Only one of us can be on the stairs at a time,” I pointed out. The stairs were shaky at best and dangerous at worst.
Pep subsided, but when we looked again the figure coming out of the water had collapsed.
Throwing caution to the wind, literally, we dashed for the stairs.
Once, when I was eight, I had decided that I should go down the stairs to the beach. I went to the top step, looked out over the ocean, felt the salty air on my face, saw the sparkles on the waves. Then I looked down at the shaking old mess of sticks and planking held together by rusty nails and thought better of the whole idea.
Lark had never had a very finely-tuned sense of self-preservation, so she had no trouble flying down the stairs and had done it many times. She used to hide down there and win games because no one else would go looking for her when she headed for the beach.
We’d finally made the beach off-limits, because when Lark went down there it effectively ended the games. Lark didn’t think that was fair at all.
I had always told myself that I was a chicken for being afraid of the stairs. They were the best way to reach the bat caves, and when Lizzie donated one of my favorite possessions to the bats it would have made the most sense for me to use the stairs to get it back. Instead it had been lost to me forever.
Another unforgivable act on Lizzie’s part to add to the list.
Several times since the time when I had frozen at eight years old, I had tried to make myself walk down the stairs. It had never worked. Pep had told me that she’d done the same. Sometimes we came to stand at the railing and talk about it together. Once we even offered to be each other’s moral support.
It hadn’t worked. I had never made it down the stairs.
Now we were faced with a life or death situation, and one of those lives was Lark’s.
“You think we can do this?” Pep was forced to yell. The wind was whipping her hair and taking her voice as she hung on to the railing for dear life. Her knuckles were white and the shadow of her body in the moonlight was trembling. I knew it was from more than just the wind.
“We don’t have a choice,” I yelled back.
She sighed and looked at the stairs. “I shouldn’t look down, should I.”
“Probably not,” I said.
“I’ll go first,” she said. She looked toward where Lark had disappeared into the darkness. She couldn’t bear to leave her sister alone down there.
“I’ll be right behind you,” I told her.
“Wait until I get to the sand,” she said. “No sense in both of us falling over and tumbling into the ocean when the stairs rot beneath our feet.”
She had a point.
With that last bit of happy imagery in mind, Pep started to descend the stairs.
I could hear her muttering to herself until she was out of sound’s reach. She moved very slowly, always stepping with her right foot first. I was pretty sure she had closed her eyes. Several times I heard her yelp. I watched with fascination as several bats gathered, watching her slow progress. Or maybe they were listening to it; bats don’t have very good eyesight.
The owls were circling too, but not around Pep. They had gone over toward Lark, where the action was.
Finally Pep reached the ground. She looked back up at me and waved, then started running toward Lark. She would get to her sister before I even reached the bottom of the stairs. At least Lark wouldn’t be alone.
This was the first time I had ever feared the ocean itself. After seeing an angry vampire plunge into it, the crashing of the waves had gotten the better of my nerves.
Standing up high, with the wind blowing me from side to side, I suddenly knew I wasn’t going to make it down the steps. There was no way. Lark had done it and Pep had done it, but the successes ended there. I was a failure. Whatever was happening on the beach, I wouldn’t be able to help.
I started shivering uncontrollably, and looked around. There was no one in sight. The mansion looked incredibly far off, and before me was a huge drop and the endless sea.
“You have to go. Stop looking down,” came Rose’s voice in a gentle tone she had never used with me before. Usually her first reaction was to get annoyed with me for breathing. She rarely had a second.
Now she rubbed my legs patiently. Having her nearby was comforting.
“One step at a time. Don’t look down. You can do it,” she said encouragingly.
“I can do it,” I repeated. My lips felt blue, and moving them felt strange.
It was my turn, and I was going to attempt it after all. I took a deep breath and focused. My left hand gripped the railing tighter and I stepped downward. The wood creaked beneath my foot, and I flinched. Pep had done this with her eyes closed, but that wasn’t going to work for me.
I took another step and then another, careful to keep an eye on the bats. They hadn’t moved so far, but if they were to start into the air I might just fall. The stairs creaked an absurd amount, but they didn’t collapse.
I took another step and then another. The further down I got, the worse I felt.
My left hand gripped the railing tightly and I looked back at Rose. If she disappeared, all would be lost. I’d probably fall. But there she was.
Heights sucked.
Just then I heard a yell from down the beach. A shot of fear went through me, but it wasn’t like my terror of heights. It was fear for my friends. Without another thought I started hurrying down the steps. I was still gripping the railing tightly, but I was moving so fast my hand merely slid along it. Luckily, it was so old it had been smoothed by wind and sand, so I didn’t get any splinters.
The bats shifted a bit as I dashed past. I no longer cared. All I could think about was to get to the bottom.
When my feet hit the sand, I was relieved beyond words. As I ran toward Pep and Lark I took a moment to glance back up. The rickety staircase was still creaking in the wind.
Lark was kneeling next to the collapsed figure on the beach. Jefferson Judge was out cold. There was no sign of Sharon, and for that I was grateful.
I glanced up at the black sky and saw more bats and owls than usual. They knew something was happening. I could only hope we’d seen the last of it.
“Is he okay?” I asked.
“I think he’s fine. He may have hit his head, but there’s no visible injury,” said Lark.
“There wouldn’t be with a le-haunt. They’re more like rubber. It’s not as if they have real bones that are going to break,” said Pep.
“That’s probably why he could fall from such a distance and be okay,” I said. If I had fallen from that distance without any enchantments or owl assistance, I’d be dead.
Pep took off her coat and put it over Jefferson Judge.
“That’s awfully nice of you not to want the creature of the night to be cold,” said Lark sarcastically.
Jefferson Judge moved slightly. Lark bent down to see if she could hear what he was saying, then shook her head to let us know that she couldn’t.
As I watched, I had the distinct impression that we weren’t alone. I turned this way and that, trying to see why. The wind blew my hair into my face and made it hard to see, so in the end I called out, “Who’s there?”
“It’s me. I see you found the suspect,” said a familiar voice.
Fudgy Bail stepped onto the beach, emerging from the solid wall of the cliff.
He was smoking his cigar, and I do believe he held a bottle of alcohol in his right hand. His eyes closed slowly and then opened.
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“He stole my crown. I want it back,” said the F
udge with a shrug.
“I don’t think that’s what happened,” I told him. “I think he was trying to find the crown in order to return it to you.”
“He’s the only one missing, along with my crown. That’s enough evidence for me. I always knew he couldn’t be as legal-minded as he appeared,” said the Fudge bitterly.
“Do you have any actual proof that he’s the one who took it?” I asked.
As the Fudge came nearer, several other skeletons, vampires, and ghosts appeared behind him. All of them looked like trouble, and I didn’t recognize any of them. I wondered where Peter was. I hoped Fudgy hadn’t done anything to him.
“Now that you found him, I’m more than happy to take him off your hands. You don’t have to worry about this anymore,” he said.
“Of course we have to worry about it. We’ve been looking for him,” I told him. “As the new liaison between Down Below and the mansion, I’m perfectly within my rights to find a member of Down Below and discuss why she was out of bounds.”
I drew myself up and pushed my shoulders back. I was doing my best to look and act official. Given the smirk on his face, he wasn’t thinking too much of my act.
“It wasn’t Judge that took my crown? And where is it now? I know for a fact that it hasn’t left the mansion grounds. This estate is large, but I should still be able to find my prized possession. It’s a specialty of mine, you know,” Fudge said, smiling.
“It was Sharon who took the crown,” I said sternly. “She was going to run away with it, but she got caught trying to leave. Jefferson Judge chased after her and took it from her. He knew he’d be a suspect, so he didn’t come back with it. Sharon’s accomplice died in the truck.”
“You expect me to believe that she stole my crown and then just came back to the basement? No one is that desperate. Or that foolish,” said the Fudge. Then he took a threatening step forward.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“She didn’t have the crown,” I insisted, not letting myself back up even though I wanted to. “She knew he was a suspect. She knew you’d go for the obvious answer. Her only option was to come back and act like nothing was wrong, but she was just biding her time until she could find the crown herself. She enlisted me because she knew I could search the grounds, but it was never her intention to return Down Below after she took the crown. When her accomplice betrayed her because he wanted the crown for himself she killed him, and everything fell apart. She wasn’t counting on Jefferson Judge suspecting her, but I have a feeling he’s suspected her for years.”
Of course, I had no idea if that was really true, but I was trying to give Jefferson Judge the benefit of the doubt. If the Fudge didn’t believe me, we were in big trouble.
There was a long silence. Lark and Pep didn’t move, but I didn’t need to look at them to know they were nervous. The wind came freezing off the ocean, but we just sat there waiting for Fudge to respond. The supernaturals were unfazed, but I was starting to shiver.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Fudgy spoke. “Very well. Maybe I’ll choose to believe you. This time. Judge had better produce the crown, though. If he does, all will be forgiven, so long as Sharon is found guilty.” He smiled a cold smile. “Speaking of her, where is she?”
I looked around at the empty beach. I still had no idea; I hadn’t seen her after she fell into the water.
“We’ll help you look for Sharon,” said Pep. “We think she never actually went into the water, so there’s a good chance she’s trying to get away even as we speak. Jefferson might be able to tell us when he wakes up, but we can’t wait that long.”
The career criminal’s eyes shifted to Pep with respect at how calmly she was speaking. I had a feeling that people usually reacted to him with fear, and Pep was perhaps a refreshing change of pace.
Before I could properly process that thought, something told me that I should check on Cookie.
Now.
“I think I’m going to go check on Grandma,” I said.
“That’s a good idea. Do you want me to come with you?” Lark asked.
“No, I’m sure Sharon is still out here somewhere, and besides, I think you should stay with Jefferson,” I said.
The implication was clear. I didn’t want to leave Jefferson Judge alone with the Fudge.
“You’re more than welcome to depart. I do believe we have plenty of supernaturals here,” said Fudge. “I would also appreciate it if you did not mention our little back entrance to your mothers.”
“I’m sure our mothers have a pretty good idea that you have a way of coming and going. It’s not as if they think you really just stay in the basement all the time,” said Lark.
I had no idea if that was true either, but I was glad Lark had said it.
I said a quick goodbye and hurried for the stairs. Going down had been torture, but climbing back up was worse. It was terrifying to leave the solid ground again for something so ramshackle and windblown.
I looked around several times to see if the Fudge was coming over to threaten me further. It wouldn’t have surprised me if he’d decided to light the stairway on fire or try to knock it down while I was standing on it. But he seemed to be too preoccupied with Jefferson Judge to bother about me. He clearly wanted Judge awake.
When I’d headed down the stairs with Rose’s encouragement, the cat had informed me that she wasn’t silly enough to attempt them herself. She was waiting quietly when I got back to the top of the cliff.
“Did you have a nice chat with the criminals?” she asked when I reached her level. I could see her eyes burning in the darkness.
“About as nice as ever,” I muttered.
“So now are you going to tell my why you turned out the lights?”
“What you talking about?”
Rose gazed at me like I was an idiot, an expression that looked much more familiar than the compassionate face she had turned on me earlier.
“All the mansion lights are off,” said the cat.
My head snapped around toward my home, and sure enough, the mansion had gone entirely dark.
A bolt of fear shot through me. All the lights never went off. The supernaturals didn’t like it, not to mention my mother. We always left some lights on in the haunted house in particular, partly because it looked even spookier that way.
“We have to get to Cookie,” I said, breaking into a run. I forgot how nervous I’d felt on the stairs, but now I was reminded of that ordeal by the fact that my legs felt like Jell-O and running felt crazy. I forced myself to move forward regardless.
“I had no idea you were so fast,” said Rose, trotting to keep up with me.
“Very funny,” I said.
When we reached the kitchen door, I pushed it open and stopped at the threshold of a pitch dark room. Feeling my way, I passed through the kitchen and into the hallway. When I found Steve missing from his usual place, a dark foreboding settled over my shoulders.
I came to a stop in the foyer and wondered if I should go on without going back to get my cousins, but there was just no time. If someone had come to kill Cookie, they were already here.
Slowly, trying to keep my wits about me and my senses alert, I tiptoed up the grand front stairway. Right about now I wished I had a visionary enchantment, or anything at all that would let me see the future.
Unfortunately, I knew of no such enchantments. I had to do this the regular way.
Cookie wasn’t in her apartment. Frantically I tried the library, but she wasn’t there, either.
That left one more place where she might be if she was here at all: the haunted house. That was where my mother had told her to run if she ever had to, since only the Garbos knew the secrets of the haunted house, and Cookie knew more of its secrets than anyone else in the family.
The haunted house had a library of its own, a forest, the cleaver kitchen, and a host of other rooms. My spine tingled at the thought of the cleaver kitchen and the flashing memory of a series of blades raised high in
a red-lighted room.
“I don’t want to go in there,” Rose whispered.
“We don’t have a choice,” I said.
“I knew becoming a cat at a haunted house was a terrible idea,” she said under her breath.
I entered the haunted house through a spooky, red-lit hallway. The only good thing about the hallway was that I could easily see what was on either side of me.
There was no one.
Next I went into the graveyard, which was more dangerous; anything could be hiding behind the leaning gray stones. I made my way slowly and kept an eye out for supernaturals, but even they had made themselves scarce.
The graveyard was probably my least favorite room in the haunted house. I was passing through it quickly and without incident until, just as I was about to move on to the next room, a shadow moved.
My heart stopped.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I quickly stepped back behind the drapes, where the vampires liked to hide during haunted house tours. I wasn’t as alone in the haunted house as I had thought, and I had to figure out what to do about it. For that I had to find out who my company was.
I held my breath. If this was another big ghost coming, I was in big trouble.
The shadow moved toward me, and I cursed myself for not having had the presence of mind to hide nearer to the door.
Rose was now reduced to lurking behind my ankles, providing neither sarcastic commentary nor useful suggestions.
Just as I was wondering whether it would be better to go on hiding or run, an answer came from the shadow, which had almost reached me. It was as if a voice came out of nowhere.
“Jane? Is that you?” Grant asked.
Relief made my knees weak. I tried to step forward, but instead I slid against the wall. It had already been a very long night.
“Yes! What are you doing here?” I asked.
Grant stepped into the eerie glow that kept the room from being pitch black. Even with red highlights tinting his skin and hair, he looked gorgeous.
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