How clever of her. After Abaddon attacked you, you came as close to dying as anyone can come, but you rallied and recovered. Have you mentioned the incident to anyone who could have passed the news along to Amanda?
“Annelise knows about the shooting, of course,” I said, “but she’d never breathe a word about it to anyone here. Toby knows about it, too, but I didn’t tell him about it until last night, after Amanda had said her piece.”
I see. What other interesting tidbits did Amanda Barrow share with you?
“She told me that those I loved would surprise me,” I said, “and guess what? She was right again. Bill surprised the heck out of me this morning when he told me that he’d be arriving at the Aerie next week.”
Why were you surprised? It’s exactly the sort of thing Bill would do.
“True,” I allowed, “but he wasn’t the only loved one who surprised me today. Annelise just finished telling me that Will and Rob not only used smutty language at the ranch yesterday, but lied to her when she asked them where they’d learned it.”
Will and Rob don’t use smutty language or tell lies.
“I know,” I said emphatically. “That’s why I was surprised.”
To summarize: Amanda Barrow was correct about Mr. Pennyfeather, your long journey, your meeting with James Blackwell, your close encounter with death, and the twins’ surprising naughtiness. Perhaps she does have a gift after all, over and above her ability to accurately describe ethereal escorts.
“If she does,” I said, “then something’s seriously out of whack because, unlike you and Mr. Pennyfeather, Amanda thinks the Aerie’s cursed. She convinced Tammy, the Auerbachs’ teenaged daughter, that the Aerie is cursed, and she came here today to inform me of the same thing.”
Amanda Barrow is mistaken.
No one can be right all the time.
“Amanda’s batting average is pretty spectacular so far,” I said anxiously.
True. What, exactly, did she tell you about the curse?
“She seemed to sense something underneath the tent in the playroom,” I said. “There’s nothing under the tent but floorboards, but Florence Auerbach was so concerned about the floorboards in the family suite that she asked James Blackwell to take a look at them. Why is everyone taking such a keen interest in floorboards?”
Floorboards make noises, Lori, especially when a new building is settling onto its foundations.
“The Aerie was built only two years ago,” I said. “It must still be settling.”
A new building’s normal noises can seem quite eerie, especially if they’re heard in the dead of night by a listener who is predisposed to hear eerie sounds.
“So if Tammy Auerbach heard a floorboard creak or a door squeak, she’d think it was a manifestation of the curse,” I said.
The poor child must have been a nervous wreck. Florence Auerbach probably asked James Blackwell to check the family suite’s floorboards in order to convince Tammy that nothing was wrong with them.
“But Tammy was too far gone by then,” I said, nodding. “James Blackwell told me that Tammy was so jittery she was losing sleep—”
The balm of hurt minds.
“That’s right, Mr. Pennyfeather,” I said. “And without her nightly dose of balm, Tammy got more and more jumpy, just like I did.”
I suspect that Florence Auerbach took her daughter away from the Aerie for much the same reason Bill sent you away from the cottage.
“She didn’t want Tammy to have a nervous breakdown,” I said. “But Tammy was so afraid of the curse that she refused to return to the Aerie, so Mrs. Auerbach decided to sell it.”
If Tammy told Amanda about the strange sounds she’d heard at the Aerie, Amanda would naturally make a fuss over the floorboards. Their curious creaks and moans would lend credence to her claim that the Aerie is cursed.
“But Amanda went to the playroom when she came here today,” I said. “Why didn’t she go to Tammy’s room?”
I imagine she chose a room at random. As long as it was in the family suite, it would serve her purpose, which was to give a convincing performance.
“I suppose so,” I said reluctantly.
You still sound troubled, my dear.
“I am,” I admitted. “According to Amanda, the curse is in the fabric of the building. I can’t help remembering that Danny Auerbach recycled lumber from the old mine buildings when he constructed the Aerie. What if the curse is still…clinging to the old wood in the floorboards under the tent?”
There is no curse, Lori. There is only a woman who needs to convince others of its existence. Amanda Barrow is a local. She’s known about the recycled lumber ever since the Aerie was built. If I were her, I’d use that knowledge to give my false claims the ring of truth.
Aunt Dimity’s argument made good sense, but I was still worried.
“Will and Rob told Annelise that they learned their smutty vocabulary in the playroom tent,” I said. “When Amanda came here, she made a beeline for the tent. She may be blowing smoke about the curse, but what if she actually sensed something sinister in the playroom? You mentioned disembodied voices when we spoke the other night, Mr. Pennyfeather. What if a foul-mouthed spirit is hanging around the tent at night, teaching my sons to swear?”
Miss Westwood and I are the only spirits currently in residence at the Aerie, Lori, and we are not in the habit of using rude language.
“Can you be sure there’s no one else?” I persisted. “Maybe a demon flew in under your radar.”
Ah yes, I know about radar now, thanks to Miss Westwood’s excellent explanation, and I can assure you that no demon has flown under ours. A demon’s signal, so to speak, is quite distinctive. I would be instantly aware of it, as would Miss Westwood.
“My sons don’t lie, Mr. Pennyfeather,” I said stubbornly. “And you admitted only a moment ago that Amanda might have real gifts, Dimity.”
So I did, but she also appears to crave attention almost as much as she enjoys upsetting people. I repeat: There is no curse. Since Mr. Pennyfeather and I seem unable to reassure you on that score, however hard we try, might I suggest an experiment?
“Go ahead,” I said.
Sleep in the playroom tonight, Lori. I strongly doubt that you’ll hear a demonic chorus serenading you with obscenities, but I’m certain that a night spent with your ear pressed to the floorboards will convince you that Mr. Pennyfeather and I are more reliable than Amanda Barrow when it comes to the detection of curses and evil spirits.
“I’ll do it,” I said. “I’ll spend the night in the playroom. It’s not that I doubt you, Dimity—”
I understand, Lori. You’re protecting your sons. It’s what mothers do. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Nor would I.
“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll let you know if anything happens.”
If a demon happens, you won’t have to let us know.
I smiled wryly as the two sets of handwriting faded from the page, then closed the journal and put it on the bedside table, next to Reginald.
“Do you think I’m being silly, Reg?” I asked my pink rabbit.
Reginald was understandably noncommittal. The notion of spending a night on a cold, hard floor when I had a warm, soft bed at my disposal was already beginning to strike me as silly.
“Nevertheless, I can’t afford to take chances where Will and Rob are concerned,” I said staunchly, then bent low to whisper in his ear, “But don’t tell Toby or Annelise what I’m planning to do, okay? They’ll think I’ve gone off the deep end.”
Reginald’s black eyes gleamed supportively. I touched the faded grape juice stain on his snout and cocked an ear toward the corridor, listening for the thunder of little feet that would signal the twins’ return from Bluebird. When I heard nothing, I left the master suite and returned to the playroom.
I gazed speculatively at the freestanding tent for a moment, then grabbed hold of it with both hands and slid it to one side. I was so afraid that my sons had s
pent the past week sleeping on a bloodstained, curse-ridden, demon-haunted remnant of the Lord Stuart mining disaster that it took every bit of courage I had to look at the spot where the tent had been.
It was indistinguishable from every other patch of floorboard in the playroom. I got down on my knees and rapped the floor with my knuckles. It sounded reassuringly solid. I pushed on the floorboards, stomped on them, and hopped up and down on them, but they didn’t emit so much as a squeak. I was beginning to wish that James Blackwell had left his pickax behind instead of his lantern when I heard telltale noises coming not from the floor, but from the foyer.
Toby and the twins had returned. I stomped on the floor one more time, then gave up and went to join the others in the great room.
Toby had decided that Caroline’s Cafe wasn’t the only local eatery that deserved our patronage, so we dined on pizzas from Mile High Pies and peach ice cream from Sweet Jenny’s Emporium. The ice cream eliminated any possibility of s’mores at the fire pit, but I eased the twins’ disappointment by announcing that they would spend the night in the great room.
Will and Rob were enthralled by the idea of mounting an expedition to another part of the Aerie and ran off after dinner to help Toby move the tent from the playroom to their new camping spot.
Annelise, by contrast, was…Annelise. After considering the vast number of things the boys could break, dismantle, and/or wedge their heads into in the great room, she elected to sleep on the sofa, where she could keep a close eye on their nocturnal activities. Since it would be easier to sneak into the playroom after lights-out if I had the family suite all to myself, I put up token resistance, then happily allowed her to have her way.
I pushed furniture aside to make room for the tent, Toby set it up in the space I’d created, and the twins furnished it with foam pads, sleeping bags, headlamps, and fuzzy buffalo. After Annelise had made up the sofa and I’d popped the boys into their jammies, Toby said good night and retired to his apartment.
Will and Rob were so tired that it didn’t take long to get them settled in their tent. I kissed them good night, thanked Annelise for taking the night shift, turned out the lights, and went into the foyer, where I stood listening at the double doors. When the boys’ drowsy whispers died down, I tiptoed to the master suite, changed into blue jeans and a thick woolen sweater, gathered up a pillow, a blanket, and my headlamp, and carried them to the playroom.
The full moon shining through the tree branches outside the picture window cast an intricate pattern of shadows across the room. I felt a twinge of guilt as I thought of Annelise trying to sleep in the bright moonlight streaming through the great room’s window wall, but after a few moments on the floor, I would have gladly traded places with her. It didn’t take long for me to realize that it was impossible to sleep comfortably on a floor while fully dressed, though I doubted that a pair of silk pajamas would have made any difference.
I was on the verge of retreating to my cozy bed when a queer sound brought my heart into my throat. I couldn’t tell whether it was the creak of a door or the tenor in a demonic chorus, but it seemed to come from the corridor. I sat up, turned my headlamp on, and nearly jumped out of my skin when a shadowy figure loomed over me in the darkness.
“I knew I’d find you here,” said Toby. “Is it time for me to throw you in the lake?”
Twenty-three
“What are you talking about?” I demanded, pressing a hand over my galloping heart.
“Keep your voice down or you’ll wake Annelise,” said Toby.
“What are you talking about?” I whispered.
Toby switched on James Blackwell’s lantern, set it on the floor, and sat next to it. “You gave me your permission to throw you in the lake if you showed the slightest sign of being obsessed by the curse.”
I scowled at him. “I’m not obsessed by the curse.”
“Uh-huh,” Toby said disbelievingly. “Amanda’s act this afternoon had no effect on you whatsoever. You changed everyone’s sleeping arrangements simply because you thought it would be fun to sleep in here instead of in the master suite. I admire your spirit of adventure.”
“I didn’t change the sleeping arrangements because of Amanda’s act.” I lied without hesitation. I did not intend to tell Toby, of all people, that I was on the lookout for a lurking demon. “If you must know, Will and Rob used some pretty ripe language at the ranch yesterday.”
“I know,” said Toby. “While we were waiting for the pizza they reviewed all the words they mustn’t say.”
“Audibly?” I said, wincing.
Toby grinned. “Don’t worry, I shushed them before they got too far down the list.”
“How long was the list?” I asked, horrified.
“Not very long,” said Toby. “But what does their cursing have to do with the curse?”
“Nothing,” I said. “I’m not here because of the curse. I’m here because Will and Rob heard those smutty words while they were sleeping in the tent. I’m convinced that they’re telling the truth, so I want to find out what’s going on and put a stop to it.”
“Okay,” Toby said, drawing the word out to twice its normal length. “You want to find out how the twins learned to swear in the middle of the night while they were all by themselves. Shouldn’t you be searching for a hidden tape recorder left behind by the Auerbach boys?”
“Gosh,” I said, brightening. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“You don’t have a very high opinion of the Auerbach boys,” Toby said dryly.
“I’ve never met the Auerbach boys,” I said. “For all I know they could be potty-mouthed pranksters. They could have rigged a tape recorder to come on when the clock strikes midnight. The twins wouldn’t know it was weird. They’d think it was just another fantastic feature of the Aerie.”
Toby stared at me wordlessly for a few moments, then got to his feet and picked up the lantern.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“To get a couple of lawn chairs,” he replied. “It’s only ten o’clock. If we’re going to be here past midnight, we might as well be comfortable.”
“You don’t have to stay,” I said, though I hoped he would, not only because I enjoyed his company, but because I’d be less tempted to abandon my vigil if he shared it with me.
Fortunately, Toby had already made up his mind to keep me company.
“If you think I’m going to miss the Auerbach boys’ nightly tutorial on swearing,” he said, “then you’re not the model of mental stability I thought you were.” He chuckled softly to himself as he left the room.
He returned a short time later with two folding chaise longues, which he set up side by side on the spot where the tent had stood. I offered him half of my blanket as we stretched out on the chaise longues, but he refused, so I covered myself with it and leaned back with a contented sigh. The chair was a great improvement over the floor.
We doused the lights to save the batteries and endured five grueling minutes of utter silence before one of us couldn’t stand it anymore. Much to my surprise, it wasn’t me.
“You know,” Toby said softly. “It’s possible that Will and Rob could have heard a live voice in their tent.”
“Whose?” I asked. “The smut fairy’s?”
“No,” said Toby. “A real, live human being’s.”
I snorted derisively. “Are you suggesting that some pervert crept into the Aerie in the dead of night in order to teach my sons how to swear?”
“He wouldn’t have to enter the Aerie,” said Toby. “Did I ever tell you about the mine shaft underneath the Aerie?”
“There’s a mine shaft underneath the Aerie?” I said, sitting bolt upright.
“I’ve been trying to picture it in my mind,” Toby murmured. “It’s a horizontal shaft, and I’m pretty sure it runs beneath the family suite.”
“We’ve been sleeping over a mine shaft?” I said, thunderstruck.
“Relax, Lori,” said Toby. “It’s a small shaft a
nd it’s been underpinned, so it’s perfectly stable.”
“How do you know so much about it?” I asked.
“I’ve been in it,” he replied.
I switched on my headlamp, swung my legs to the floor, and sat sideways on the chaise longue. “I thought your grandfather ordered you not to go into the mines.”
“He did,” said Toby, “but I went into them anyway.”
“Toby,” I said, scandalized.
“What else was I supposed to do?” said Toby. “I was already the city kid, the kid from back east. You think I wanted to be the goody-goody as well? Forget it. By the time I was thirteen, I’d explored every abandoned mine on this side of the valley.” He glanced heavenward. “Sorry, Granddad, but a kid’s gotta do what a kid’s gotta do.”
“It’s a miracle you lived long enough to go to college,” I said, shaking my head.
“Anyway,” he went on, “if someone was in the shaft, the boys could have heard a voice coming up through the floor.”
“But how would anyone get into the shaft?” I asked. “I’ve seen the Lord Stuart’s main entrance, and it’s blocked good and proper.”
Toby tilted his head to one side. “I can think of at least three other ways, if they haven’t caved in.”
“But—” I broke off suddenly and stared at the floorboards between our chairs. “Did you hear that?”
Toby nodded, swung his legs over the side of his chair, and seemed to hold his breath as he, too, stared at the floor.
A faint thumping noise sounded beneath our feet, followed by a few indistinct words uttered by a muffled voice.
“Somebody’s down there,” I whispered.
“I don’t think it’s the smut fairy,” Toby whispered back. “I’ll bet you anything it’s one of the crazies from Amanda’s commune.”
“Why would…?” My voice trailed off as the answer to my question exploded in my head. It didn’t take a huge amount of brain power to figure out exactly why someone from the commune would prowl beneath the Aerie, frightening Tammy Auerbach and unwittingly entertaining my fearless sons.
Aunt Dimity Goes West Page 21