by Kris Tualla
“This is very true,” Sveyn said. “And cultures which welcome strangers, as opposed to attacking them, grow as well.”
Hollis picked up on that. “Are you saying you didn’t always attack and raid? That sometimes your arrival was peaceful?”
Sveyn shook his head. “We responded as we were met, and only dealt with resistance with our swords.”
Hollis told Stevie what Sveyn said.
“I always wondered about that,” Stevie said. “I mean, for a society with such beautifully crafted artifacts, such advanced sailing skills, and such obvious intelligence, they couldn’t have been mindlessly barbaric.”
Sveyn bowed in Stevie’s direction. “Thank you.”
Hollis smiled. “He bowed and said thank you.”
Stevie fingered the holly-wreath brooch on her sweater. “So what about Christmas?”
“Christmas?” Hollis returned her regard to the apparition. “That’s a timely question.”
“Vikingers did not celebrate Christmas.” Sveyn rubbed the bloodied gash in his vest, seemingly a reflex. “After the new religion came to us and began to spread, our king declared Norway a Christian country. We stopped viking at that time.”
Hollis repeated his words and added, “So Vikings didn’t technically celebrate Christmas, but Norwegians eventually did?”
“That is correct. And in their wisdom, the priests gave new Christian significance to our pagan rites, rather than demand that we forego our ancient traditions,” he explained.
Hollis was surprised by his comment. “Some people say that practice bastardized Christianity.”
Sveyn laughed. “The God we learned of was much stronger and less petty than our gods. I do not believe He saw it that way.”
“What practice bastardized Christianity?” Stevie asked.
Hollis gave her Sveyn’s explanation.
As she typed in his words, Stevie made a face. “What does he think of our modern celebrations? Talk about bastardizing…”
Sveyn frowned. “To what is she referring?”
“Do you mean the commercialization of the holiday?” Hollis asked Stevie.
“Well, yeah.” Stevie looked up from her keyboard. “What does he think?”
Hollis gave her friend a guilty look. “I haven’t taken him to the mall.”
Stevie’s jaw dropped. “You haven’t? Why not?”
“What is a mall?” Sveyn asked.
“I’m an only child and my parents are going on a cruise,” Hollis explained to them both. “I paid for one of their excursions as my Christmas gift to them. There’s no need for me to be part of that insanity.”
“What is a mall?” he asked again. “And why is it insane?”
“Except that there is.” Stevie waved her hand in the direction that Hollis was addressing her questions. “Sveyn needs to see it.”
Hollis rolled her eyes. “This is the weekend before Christmas!”
Stevie shrugged. “All the better.”
“What is an insane mall?” Sveyn barked.
Hollis whirled to face him. “A shopping mall is a huge enclosed version of the marketplace. Tons of different stores all opening into a center walkway.”
The Viking frowned. “And insane people shop there?”
“An insane amount of people shop there,” Hollis clarified. “Especially the weekend before Christmas.”
Stevie giggled. “It’s an important part of our culture, Hollis. He deserves to see it.”
Hollis glared at her. “I hate you.”
Stevie blew her a kiss.
*****
Hollis’s phone intercom beeped. “Ms. McKenna?”
“Yes?”
“You have a package at the front desk.”
“Okay. I’m on my way.” Hollis crossed to her office door and spoke over her shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”
The package waiting for her had no postage, barcodes, or return address.
“How did this get here?” she asked the volunteer behind the desk. Her nametag said Eleanor.
“A young man came in and handed it to me. Then he left.”
Hollis frowned. The corrugated cardboard box was heavier than it looked. “That’s strange. Can I use your scissors?”
The woman pulled a pair from the jar holding her pens and handed it to Hollis. Hollis cut the clear tape sealing the top and flipped it open. Then she folded back the tissue paper.
Hollis screamed and threw the box halfway across the lobby. Her heart banged against her ribs so hard she was afraid her bones would crack.
Sveyn was instantly beside her.
The box landed with a thick thud and slid a few feet across the polished floor. Bodies appeared from all sides, drawn by her shriek.
Eleanor’s eyes were huge. “What is it?”
Hollis stared at the box, trembling. “Call the police.”
“What? Why?”
Hollis rounded on the woman. “I said call the police!”
When she hesitated again, Hollis shouted, “Dammit, do what I say!” Then she reached over the counter, knocked the receiver out of its cradle, and dialed nine-one-one.
When an older gentleman approached the box, Hollis cried. “Don’t touch it!”
He looked up at her, puzzled. “Is it a bomb?”
“No. At least I don’t think so.” Hollis shuddered. “It’s a dead cat.”
A tinny voice escaped the phone’s speakers. “Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?”
“A suspicious package,” Hollis called out before the woman at the desk interfered. “We need an officer as soon as possible.”
“Could it be a bomb?” the voice asked. “Or hazardous materials?”
“Someone delivered a dead cat in a box.” Hollis’s voice shook and she met Sveyn’s eyes. “Beyond that, I have no idea.”
*****
The museum was emptied of attendees, all of whom were instructed not to speak to anyone about what had happened, and given two free passes each to return another day with a companion. Just to be safe, Miranda guided them all out the back door.
The police arrived within minutes. Two uniformed officers plus a two-man team in hazardous material suits who wrapped the box in heavy plastic and removed it from the museum.
One of the uniformed officers quizzed the front desk attendant and Hollis about how the box arrived—and why.
“This nice looking man walked in, set the box on the counter, and said it was a special delivery for Hollis McKenna…” Eleanor’s hands held each other in a white-knuckled death grip. “So I buzzed her office and told her it was here.”
Tom the intern was standing off to the side, looking like he desperately wanted something to do. “I’ll have the security tapes pulled up and saved!” he offered, then hurried away before someone could stop him.
The officer’s attention shifted to Hollis. “Were you expecting a package?”
She swallowed, her mouth uncomfortably sticky. “No.”
His expression softened. “Forgive me, but it’s Christmas next week. Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. Yes.”
He made a note on his pad. “Did you recognize the cat?”
Hollis gasped. “No—but do you think he thought it was mine?” The idea that some unsuspecting family would need to get a new kitten this Christmas was heartbreaking.
The officer’s gaze cut to hers. “He? Do you have an idea who sent this?”
“No, I just assumed it was the guy who delivered it.”
“Hmm.” He looked back at his notes. “Do you own a cat?”
Hollis shook her head. “No. Cats aren’t a thing with me, so if it’s meant to be significant it was a bad choice.”
Stevie sidled up next to her. Hollis hadn’t noticed she was there. “Could it have to do with the ghost hunter people?”
The officer’s head jerked up from his pad. “Ghost hunter people?”
His partner turned around and crossed the lobby. “Are you the one from the news?”
<
br /> “Yes. Possibly.” Hollis scowled. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Witches. Druids. Ritual killings.” The second officer looked at the one asking the questions. “Could be related to casting spells or whatever.”
“Ghosts and witches aren’t the same thing,” Stevie pointed out.
He shrugged. “It’s all occult, one way or another.”
“None of that—or this—has to do with the ghost sighting here,” Hollis stated firmly.
“But someone might think it does.” Stevie pointed a finger at her. “Maybe it’s a spell to protect you from the Blessing thing.”
“Or cause me to succumb, more likely.”
The officer in charge looked confused. “Blessing thing?”
“I’ll explain in the car,” the second one said.
“Relevant?”
“Doubtful.”
The first one handed Hollis his card. “We’ll have forensics inspect the cat and look at the security video.” He turned to Miranda and held out a card to her as well. “Have everyone on staff watch the video, and call me if anyone recognizes the guy who brought the box.”
“Yes, sir. We’ll do it now, before anyone goes home.” Miranda’s enthusiastic attention dropped to the officer’s left hand and her expression dimmed; the thick gold band was obvious.
He turned to Hollis. “Call me if you think of anything else.”
*****
The security video viewing proved nothing. No one—neither paid staff nor volunteers—recognized the Cat Box Guy, as Hollis thought of him.
“It’s an appropriate name,” she whispered to Stevie. “The guy’s a pile of cat litter to have done what he did.”
Stevie pursed her lips. “I have to agree.”
“Is there anything I can do?” Sveyn asked.
Hollis drew a deep breath. “Not that I can think of.”
Stevie’s head turned toward hers. “What?”
Hollis whispered in her friend’s ear. “Sveyn wants to know what he can do.”
“Oh.”
Miranda looked over a list of people. “There are nine volunteers who weren’t here today. I’ll have them all watch the video the next time they work.”
Hollis stood. “Good. Can we go home now?” She glanced at Stevie and lifted one eyebrow. “I have a big day of super-fun mall shopping planned for tomorrow and I need to carbo-load.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Saturday
December 19
Though she acted unfazed by the incident, Hollis found her thoughts going back to the odd and inexplicable delivery again last night as she washed her hands for the fifth time.
“What could possibly be the reason for killing a cat and sending it to someone?” she asked Sveyn. “It just doesn’t make sense…”
The apparition sighed airlessly. “As I said before, I agree with the police officer. I do believe it has something to do with occult practices. Perhaps if you ask your visiting group on Monday, someone might be able to shed some light on its meaning.”
“That makes sense. It does.” Hollis pulled a sigh of her own. “I’ll try to stop thinking about in the meantime.”
Scottsdale Fashion Mall was as good a distraction as any.
Hollis pulled up to the valet. “So worth the money,” she told Sveyn as she hooked the Bluetooth over her ear to disguise to whom she was actually speaking. “This place will be a zoo today.”
And it was.
Sveyn was gobsmacked. “This is all for Christmas?”
“Yep. And it started two months ago.” She gave him a wry look. “Bet it wasn’t like this during World War Two, huh?”
Sveyn shook his head. “No. Not at all. Not even a small bit.”
Hollis wove through the streaming crowd and thankfully Sveyn did the same, not allowing anyone to walk through him. He did peek into the shopping bags, however, when someone was standing still.
“This is unbelievable.” He looked up at Hollis. “How much money are these people spending?”
“Hundreds. Easy.” She headed toward Nordstrom’s. “Thousands, even.”
As she led him past store after store, all displaying twinkling lights, silvery balls in a myriad of colors, and endless garlands of greenery, Sveyn didn’t seem to be able to process what he was seeing.
Once inside the high-end department store, the Viking halted. “I need a moment.”
Hollis faced him, concerned. “What’s wrong?”
He shook his head. “There is too much.”
She stepped closer. “Too much what?”
“Too much of everything.” He sank to the floor. “Normally my surroundings have no impact on me. But today I feel… pressed.”
“Pressed?” Hollis looked around for a chair; squatting beside Sveyn would draw unwanted attention.
“I cannot think of another word for it.” He tipped his head up to face her. “It is as if the world is closing in on me.”
This is weird. “You actually feel it?”
“No, not like anyone is touching me.” His expression brightened. “More like wind.”
Hollis looked around again. Store employees were beginning to pay attention to her. “We can’t stay here. Let’s go to the food court. I’ll get some lunch and you can taste it.”
Sveyn climbed to his feet. “Yes. That will be good.”
Hollis stood in line at a retro diner selling cheeseburgers and ordered onion rings and a chocolate malt to go with hers. When the food was served, she carried her tray into the center area searching for an empty table among the hundreds arrayed there.
“There!” She hurried over to a small table with only one chair. “Do you mind?”
Sveyn squatted beside her. “Not at all.”
Hollis used a plastic knife to cut her cheeseburger into quarters and pushed one quarter to the edge of her plate. She also set aside an onion ring.
She picked up one quarter of the cheeseburger and bit into it, her gaze moving everywhere except the Viking licking the food she set out for him. As much as she understood his situation, the action was too undignified for her to feel comfortable watching.
Sveyn was a proud and intelligent man. Hollis wanted to preserve those qualities in the front of her thoughts.
“Hollis?”
She turned toward the voice.
“I told you it was her, Tony.” Tony Samoa’s wife Carmen was grinning at Hollis from the table behind her. “So you decided to brave the crowds as well.”
Hollis glanced at a scowling Tony and the cluster of bags hanging from the third chair at their tiny table.
There’s my other chair.
“Hi, guys. Yeah. I’m here against my better judgment.”
Carmen turned in her chair to face Hollis more squarely. “Have you seen the commercial yet?”
Hollis hated when people asked questions with only half the necessary info. “Commercial?”
“For the new season of Ghost Myths, Inc. Your episode is the season opener!” Carmen was practically squirming with excitement. Tony was just squirming.
That’s just craptastic news. “No, I haven’t. When will it be on?”
“Wednesday, January sixth.” Carmen leaned closer. “They showed a glimpse of the ghost. I had no idea!”
The bite of cheeseburger suddenly felt like a rock in Hollis’s stomach. “Guess I better mark my calendar.”
Carmen waved a hand toward her husband. “Tony says that the museum will be hosting a screening. I can hardly wait.”
Hollis looked at her rival. “What else does Tony say?”
Tony straightened in his seat. “We’ve had our differences, Hollis, but I can admit when I’m wrong.”
Carmen turned to her husband and pinned him with a negating gaze.
“Sometimes,” he hedged.
Carmen flashed a satisfied look. “That’s better.”
Tony cleared his throat. “And in the case of the hoard and the wing, I have to admit I was wrong. Attendance is
way up, and the guests are exploring the whole museum, not just the new stuff.”
Hollis dipped her chin. “Apology accepted.”
“I wasn’t apol—never mind.” Tony leaned forward the same way his wife had. “So you saw that ghost? The one on the camera?”
Keep it truthful. “I actually didn’t see what was on the camera.”
“What did you see?”
“Not much, I’m afraid.” Hollis gave a one shoulder shrug. “But I saw the tape and how he was answering Justin’s questions.”
“He spoke?” the pair exclaimed in tandem.
She shook her head. “No—he raised one hand for yes, the other for no.”
Carmen was clearly disappointed. “But they have that voice thing—didn’t they use it?”
“They did. But it didn’t pick up anything. Sorry.” Why am I apologizing? “Anyway, I’m glad to know the date.”
Sveyn stood. “Ask Tony about the cat.”
Surely he didn’t… Hollis made eye contact with Tony. “Did you hear what happened to me yesterday?”
“At the museum?”
“Yeah.”
Tony shook his head. “I got back from Tucson after seven last night. What happened?”
Hollis kept her gaze locked on Tony’s. “Somebody had a dead cat delivered to me.”
Carmen recoiled. “What?”
Hollis shifted her regard to Carmen. “Yep. Wrapped in tissue paper in a cardboard box.”
Tony’s scowl deepened. “Why would someone send you a dead cat?”
Hollis cut her gaze back to his. “Maybe they thought it was funny.”
“There’s nothing funny about it!” Carmen declared.
“No, there isn’t,” Tony concurred. “It sounds more like someone is trying to scare you.”
Interesting. But why? “Do you know of any Mexican or Native American legends involving dead cats?”
“Not off the top of my head. But I’ll do some research this weekend.”
“Thanks.” Hollis gave the couple a skeptical expression. “The cop thought it might be some occult thing. Because of the ghost hunters.”
“Hmm. Maybe.” Tony motioned to Carmen. “You ready? I want to get home in time to catch the soccer game.”