by Morgana Best
Finally he spoke. "How did you get in?"
I backed off to one side and looked behind me.
Scotty.
I hoped he was here to rescue me and was not one of Crawley's henchmen. I hadn't heard him come in, but I'd been otherwise occupied.
"You will tell me what happened to Baxter Morgan."
"Listen old man, you don't know what you've gotten yourself into."
Scotty no longer looked like a harmless old man. He was menacing somehow, taller, ominous. "You filthy Burker! You will tell me what happened to Baxter Morgan." His tone held a note of compulsion, of command.
Crawley stepped back, and lowered the dagger marginally.
Scotty moved closer to him. "It was Joe Crawley who killed him, and he was supposed to be his friend."
"What's it to you, you old fool?"
I spoke up. "I told you; Scotty says the ghost of Baxter Morgan speaks to him about the treasure."
Crawley made for me with the knife, but before I had time to get out of his way, Scotty closed the ground between them. Crawley stabbed him in the chest with the dagger. I screamed.
To my horror, Crawley then passed right through Scotty and fell to the ground.
Scotty bent over Crawley who scrabbled backwards until he was backed against the wall. "I heard everything you told this young lass. You told me I was hanged in Sydney, but my good friend Joe Crawley killed me with black magick, and then made me work for him. I was fooled all these years. I found the treasure, and now they're all free."
It took me a moment or two to realize that Scotty's treasure was in fact the imprisoned spirits in the zombi bottles.
Crawley was terrified. "But, your name - Scotty?"
I again spoke. I just can't help myself when it comes to facts. "Scotty is of course a nickname given to people from Scotland, and a Burker is the name for a body snatcher from Scottish legend."
Crawley would have lunged at me then, but the air was suddenly thick with spirits, and some of them were hideous, screaming ghouls. I had to focus hard to keep the energy away from me.
Scotty turned to me. "Leave now, lassie, quickly. This will not be pretty."
I seized the trapdoor remote and ran for the stairs, just as the spirits closed in on Crawley. I will never forget the look of pure terror on his face, or the gut-wrenching screams which lasted until I was through the trapdoor and into the room above, before snapping off abruptly.
I shut the trapdoor and slid the chair across it, picked up my iPhone and ran across the room while texting. Just then Jamie appeared in the doorway.
"Jamie, what are you doing here?"
Jamie looked sheepish. "I've come to rescue you."
I snorted rudely. "A bit late aren't you? Your timing's useless." I said several quite rude words in quick succession.
Jamie moved aside and I saw two men who looked quite M16 standing next to him.
My face went beet red.
"A cat is more intelligent than people believe, and can be taught any crime."
(Mark Twain)
Chapter Twenty.
Jamie and I were sitting in The Servants Quarters Tearooms, debriefing over sticky date pudding with ice cream and whipped cream, not the fake cream that I prefer, but for once I wasn't complaining. I had solved Baxter Morgan's murder and I had solved my own attempted murder.
"Heio facif crawke trues ti kulk me."
Jamie showed me the text that I’d sent him from Crawley's house. "What does that mean? Is it Latin?"
I shook my head. "That's just my typos. It says, 'Help. David Crawley tried to kill me.'"
Jamie raised an eyebrow.
"I'd turned off the autocorrect as it can't understand my typing."
The eyebrow rose even more.
My tone became a little defensive. "I was running at the time," and then added, "Where were you, anyway?" I took half Jamie's sticky date pudding with one skilled swoop of my spoon by way of punishment.
Jamie raised his eyebrows. "The realtor was showing me the barn, and we were about to head back when your text came in. I pretended I wanted a close look at the tennis court, and texted you back, and just then the realtor had a call and then he told me that the property had just been withdrawn from sale. The realtor hurried me out of there. I doubled back and tried to break in, but there was no way in. That's when I went for back up."
"Who were those guys?" No answer, so I said, "Official Secrets Act I suppose?"
Jamie just smiled.
I paused for a moment to ground myself. Gavin King was going to be happy; Morpeth was certainly full of ghosts now. All the previously trapped spirits had returned to wander through Morpeth, or do whatever ghosts did. I wondered if Eliza Cantwell had been one of those trapped by David Crawley and whether she was now reunited with her son. I wondered what had become of Scotty. I wondered how everyone had been able to see him when he was a ghost.
"Jamie, do you know if ghosts have appeared to people? I mean, ghosts that look real and are seen by lots of people at the same time?"
I thought Jamie was going to avoid the question, but after a little hesitation, he answered, "Yes."
I was going to push it, but decided to leave it there. I changed the subject. "You know, Crawley said he only tried to run over me once, with the truck, not the car."
"He would have been lying."
"No, I don't think so; what would have been the point? He was trying to kill me at the time." I shuddered. "Crawley tried to kill me only after I showed him the text from the Blocked Sender. That was his reason to try to kill me. The car was before that. I hope there isn't anyone else out there trying to kill me."
I caught a worried glimpse on Jamie's face before he covered it. "Surely not. It was most likely a coincidence, an accident."
"What if it was the Black Lodge? I'm the Keeper of the Society, whatever that means. Aren't they rival, um, groups, societies, whatever? I wish someone would contact me and tell me what being Keeper means and what the Society actually is. I don't know anything about it at all. All I know is that I've been able to see and sense ghosts since Aunt Beth died and left me the Keepership, if there's such a word."
One look at Jamie's face, and I knew he was withholding information from me, information about the Society. I thought about challenging him then and there, but decided to wait for an opportune time.
Then several things happened at once.
Gavin walked past eating a pie while exclaiming happily at an Electromagnetic Field Detector. No doubt the readings were off the screen.
I had a text from Melissa. "Bad news, Skinny is insisting you go part time."
I was panic stricken. I could barely afford my mortgage on full time pay. My old Ford needed a new battery and front brake pads. My credit card was maxed out. Diva refused to eat all but the most expensive brands of cat food.
Another text arrived hard on its heels. The mysterious Blocked Sender again. "Job offer could prove fatal."
What job offer? I was about to have my hours cut on the only job I had. I was caught in a web of inexplicable texts, secret societies, and hidden enemies, and, worse still, continual letters from debt collection agencies. It was as if fate was conspiring against me to keep me poor, and in the dark.
I looked up to see two men walk toward us. The two who looked M16-ish. To my surprise, they addressed me, not Jamie.
"Ms. Sales, we would like to make you an offer of employment."
I went into research mode, my synapses processing rapidly. Jamie's sudden appearance. The presence of these men in Australia. It was all because they wanted me to do something for them. Had I been a seer I would have run for the hills then, for what lay ahead of me far surpassed any horror I had known until this time.
* * * * The End * * * *
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Book THREE in the Misty Sal
es Cozy Animal Mystery series.
A Basis for Murder.
It's Welsh Druids meets an ancient Australian evil in Misty's latest mystery. Misty finds out more about the Society of which she is Keeper - but can she trust the men in her life? Sent to the Australian village of Hillgrove which has a violent history, Misty is marked by an ancient evil to become Hillgrove's latest victim.
As soon as Misty sets foot in town, she finds her contact has died suddenly. The police rule it as an accident, but Misty is not so sure. Misty has to multi task to fulfill her assignment and somehow manage to stay alive as two categories of killers, human and non-human, close in on her.