by Harper Lin
That was all I could think of to say. I hoped it would be enough to get her to continue talking.
“Well, if you check the police blotter from over the past year, you’ll see how many times the police were called to the house. We were on our way to becoming that family. You know, the house the kids don’t go trick-or-treating at because crazy old Mrs. Elderflower will definitely put razor blades in the apples.
“People are supposed to be safe in their homes. I tried to help. I really did. I thought if I got between her and him that it would all stop. But my mom was stronger than me. The one time she pushed me, I fell down the basement stairs. All I could think was that she was going to shut the door and lock me in. I’d be forced to hear what was going on upstairs.”
Had I totally misread this whole situation? Was this a case of child abuse and not something paranormal? For a few more seconds, Evelyn continued looking straight ahead. Then she looked at me, grinning. I wondered if she wasn’t telling a big, long fairy story to see if I’d bite.
“Was your father there?”
“Sometimes. But he wasn’t much help. Like now. He can’t do anything.”
“Is this why you did that thing to your mother’s body at the funeral home?”
Evelyn tilted her head to the right. “Did what thing?”
The look in her eyes told me she had no idea what I was talking about. I wasn’t sure which one of us was more confused.
“Evelyn, I don’t know if I’m understanding you right. Did your mother beat you? Or was it your father?”
“Ha!” She smacked her lips as if I’d said something offensive. “Well, that’s how it looks, right? And who would believe me? Look at me. Evil Evelyn Elderflower. Anything that comes out of my mouth must be a lie.”
“I didn’t say that at all.” The time for tiptoeing around was over. “Look, you called me here, and here I am. But if you want my help, and I think you do, you need to quit with this Morticia act and just tell me what you want me to know.”
Had I gone too far? Was I going to be added to the list of adults she thought she couldn’t trust?
Evelyn swallowed hard and blinked.
“You won’t believe me, Cath, because I don’t believe it myself.” She finished her cigarette and stamped it out in the massive orange speckled ashtray from the 1960s that sat on the coffee table in front of us.
“You’d be surprised at what I might believe, Evelyn. I happen to know for a fact that monsters lived under my bed.”
What made me open up to Evelyn like that, I couldn’t say. But the relief I saw on her face nearly moved me to tears. Her bottom lip trembled as if she was afraid to say anything else but desperately wanted to. After a few seconds, I was crossing my fingers that she’d explain further, but it was no use. The door was open a crack, but it wasn’t going any farther.
“My sisters. They don’t like people like you,” Evelyn said.
“People like me?” A million thoughts went through my head. What was she talking about? Short people? People who worked in coffee shops? Brunettes? I didn’t understand at all.
There was a shadow that fell over the coffee table as though someone were rushing up to us. When I turned to look, there was nothing there. I chalked it up to a trick of the lights. But the look on Evelyn’s face terrified me.
“Evelyn? Honey? Are you all right?”
“You better go.”
“Why? Honey, we can talk for as long as you like.”
“No, Cath. You really better get going.” Evelyn stood up. She had a cute figure, and it was obvious that the boys, Goth or not, took notice of her. She didn’t seem to see any of them. That was also odd behavior for a girl her age. She reminded me of Aunt Astrid, who would stare like that. But Aunt Astrid could see another dimension. Could Evelyn see that too?
“Wait, Evelyn.”
The girl scooted from behind the coffee table and began to head for the back door. I followed her, but she stopped me quickly.
“Don’t follow me,” she whispered. “Promise you won’t.”
“Evelyn, my boyfriend is outside in his truck. Let us drive you home. It’s cold outside, and it’s very late. Please.”
“I can get home myself.” Her head didn’t move, but her eyes were scanning the periphery as if she were waiting for something. Suddenly, I was starting to feel nervous. Was this a setup? She wasn’t going to have some of her Goth goons jump me in the parking lot, was she?
“Evelyn. Will you come by the café? The back door to the kitchen is almost always open. You can get in that way, and you’ll be safe there.”
“I’m not safe anywhere.”
Before I could grab hold of her arm, she was gone down a short hallway and out the back door of the Night Owl Café.
I got the feeling someone was staring at me from behind. When I whirled around, I saw Tom.
“She’s gone again?”
“Yeah.” I slipped my hand in his. “I know I might be asking you to break the copper code, but could you not tell anyone I met her here? She’s not going anywhere. She’s got no way to skip town. A few more days, and I bet she comes around on her own.”
“She’s not in my jurisdiction. I’m not violating any copper code,” Tom assured me. “Come on. Let’s get home.”
After Tom dropped me off at my house, I instantly tore off all my clothes to get them washed immediately and showered to get the cigarette smell out of my hair.
“Don’t go down there at this hour,” Treacle scolded. “That stuff can wait until morning.”
“Are you kidding? My whole house will reek of cigarettes if I don’t,” I said. “It’s funny. I don’t mind the smell of cigarettes in a place like the Night Owl Café, but in my house, ugh. It makes me want to hurl.”
“Then just throw the stuff down there and wash it tomorrow.”
“What is the matter with you, Treacle? We’ve done laundry at two in the morning before. Why shouldn’t we do it now?”
I watched my cat look from me to the basement door and back to me again.
“Fine. If you insist. But I’m going down there first.”
“Fine. Go down there first. I don’t care who goes first. It’s not a race. Just some laundry. Sheesh.”
I didn’t pay too much attention to Treacle as I opened the basement door. The familiar smell of dampness and concrete filled my nose. I didn’t hear any weird noises. The light from the kitchen illuminated the first few steps, where I always kept my flashlight.
“I wonder what the motivation was to put the light switch all the way on the other side of the basement,” I said and got no reply. “Treacle, could we move along? This isn’t a modeling runway.”
“Shhh,” he hissed back.
Something had obviously gotten his tail in a spin.
There was a cold breeze cutting through the heat from the furnace. The window Treacle would come in and out of was still open.
“You didn’t close that?”
“No, honey. How are you going to come and go if I don’t leave that cracked? We’ll lock it up tight when the rainy season starts in a few weeks. Okay?”
Treacle didn’t reply.
“You want me to close it?”
“Yes.” He didn’t give me a reason but looked at me with his green eyes wide.
“Fine. I’ll close it. But if you get stuck in the cold, don’t complain to me.”
Finally, with my feet on solid concrete, I padded across the floor. The light from the flashlight bobbed up and down. I slapped the window shut and turned the small latch to lock it. Once at the light switch, I flicked it on and saw something swoop out of the corner of my eye.
Treacle’s back was arched, and his fur was up like porcupine quills. Within seconds, he shrank back to normal size and shook his head.
“Boy, those shadows sure can play tricks on you,” I said as I dropped the smelly clothes in the washer. After adding all the detergent and softener, I set the washing machine in motion and was about to flip off the overhea
d light when Treacle stopped me.
“You may as well leave the light on. You’re going to have to come down here again to put things in the dryer.”
“Good point,” I agreed and was a good bit thankful. Something about the dark tonight didn’t sit well with me. Plus, I was very vulnerable in my underwear. “Let’s go. I’ve got to get this smell out of my hair.”
Normally, on cold days like this, I enjoyed a long, hot shower. But something didn’t feel right. Perhaps it was that Evelyn had left in such a hurry, leaving so many unanswered questions. Maybe it was that I felt guilty for not making her come with me. I even thought I felt a little remorse for not telling Jake and Blake I knew where she was. But this was something different. I was out of the shower and bundled up in sweatpants, a sweatshirt, and my fuzzy socks within five minutes.
“Does my hair smell back to normal?” I asked Treacle.
He crawled up to my face on the pillow and gave me a headbutt.
“Yeah.”
“I think the temperature is supposed to be a little warmer tomorrow. You want me to open the window downstairs again or keep it shut?”
“Let’s play it by ear.” He nuzzled me before heading to the end of the bed.
My body felt tired, but my mind was on fast-forward. I couldn’t unwind, no matter how hard I tried. It was three o’clock in the morning when I turned on the light on my nightstand and climbed out of bed.
The air in my house was perfectly cool for sleeping but not for being up and walking the floors. With a few taps of the thermostat, I got the heat going.
After a drink of water and a peek outside the front-room window, I came back to bed to find Treacle standing on the edge of the bed, puffed up and ready to pounce.
“What is it?”
“In the corner. See it?”
There was no reason for me to think it was anything other than a mouse. They were all over this time of year, trying to escape the cold.
I squinted in the direction Treacle was looking. From deep inside his throat, I heard the menacing growl of a feline ready for a fight. He didn’t do that when he saw a mouse. In fact, he was stealthy and silent as he crept up on any of his prey.
Whatever was there, I didn’t want to scare away. So I got down on my hands and knees on the floor next to Treacle and tried to focus.
“I don’t see anything. Are you sure there is—”
My words caught in my throat as the red eye blinked at me. I froze.
“See it now?”
“I see something. Is that a rat?”
Mice were bad enough. Gross little pooping machines that left a trail of excrement wherever they went. Just because I could talk to most animals didn’t mean I liked all of them. But rats? A rat in my house terrified me. They were as mean and dirty as they were portrayed in the movies.
“Not a rat,” Treacle growled.
I slowly stood up and stepped cautiously over to the light switch and flipped it on. There was nothing there.
“Wait. I saw a red eye. Did you see a red eye?”
Treacle looked at me then back at the corner.
Neither of us slept. Not until the horizon turned from black to a rich cobalt blue. There was nothing to be afraid of as long as the sun was coming up. At least, that was what we thought. We later learned that wasn’t necessarily true.
10
Payment Plan
“That poor girl,” Bea said after I told her and Aunt Astrid about my late-night discussion with Evelyn Elderflower. “I wonder if that could be what’s covering her aura.”
We had just opened the café. With the temperature a balmy forty-something, we had quite a bit of foot traffic. It took me over an hour to get all the details out. After I repeated the strange things Evelyn had said, I felt even worse for her.
“Does that happen? Do victims of child abuse cover their auras?” I asked.
“Your guess is as good as mine. I’m really just thinking out loud.” Bea looked at her mother.
“Well, after we talked, she got spooked by something,” I continued. “Before I could stop her, she left the Night Owl through the back door, and that was the end of that. I don’t know. Bea, Aunt Astrid, should I have called Jake? I’m feeling guilty about not getting him involved.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Bea said soothingly. “Jake was at the station around that time last night. When he got home this morning, he told me that Evelyn had come in by herself.”
I gasped. “You’re kidding! I didn’t see that coming.”
“What did she tell Jake?” Aunt Astrid asked as she fixed herself a cup of tea.
“According to him, she had that typical teenage rebellious attitude. But he did say when he described what was done to her mother’s body, she went ghostly pale.”
“Did she have any idea that it had happened?”
“Jake isn’t sure. Of course, he played the jail-time card. He told her the penalty for desecrating a body was up to eight years in prison plus a fine. How would she like it if her sisters had to pay that for her? Did she want something like that on her record? You know the routine.”
When my aunt asked what Evelyn’s response was, I could see she was searching for something in addition to her verbal answer.
“Jake said she had tears in her eyes but she denied having anything to do with it. Then she asked him if she was being charged. She’s no dummy,” Bea replied.
“If they weren’t charging her, she didn’t have to answer any more questions.” I felt relieved the girl was smart enough to know that. “What did Jake think after he was done talking to her? And was Blake there? That guy’s got an opinion on everything. What was his take?”
“He said he thought she was either feeling remorseful or covering for someone. Of course, he was leaning toward remorse.”
“Tears,” Aunt Astrid muttered. “That’s a good sign. The girl isn’t lost.”
Bea and I asked what she meant by that.
“I was doing a little reading myself last night. I wanted to know what the dead spider and the kernel of corn were all about. We all forgot about the Rites of the Dead after the spectacle with the Elderflower sisters.”
I slapped my head.
“I forgot,” Bea said.
“It’s a good thing I didn’t.” My aunt looked around to make sure no one would hear what we were saying. “The book stated that this was part of a payment plan of sorts.”
“A payment plan?” I picked up one of the red paper napkins and began worrying it. “Like for a car?”
“More like for a favor. Think Gazzo in the movie Rocky.”
Bea and I looked at my aunt blankly.
“The loan shark Rocky worked for. This severed toe and the insertion of a dead spider and a corn kernel were payment for a favor. However, according to the book, it was a first payment. There are more to follow.”
“So, what you’re saying is that Evelyn is somehow tied to a paranormal loan shark. What does he want next? Her kneecaps? Maybe her thumbs?” I scratched my head.
“Why on earth would Evelyn owe a debt like this?” Bea asked.
“You tell me. My guess is that she dove into the occult business with her eyes wide shut. She messed around with a Ouija board, tried some random spells—you know how kids her age want to be special. I’m thinking she accidentally set the wheels in motion for a very dangerous scenario.”
“But she said she didn’t know anything about it. Something in my gut tells me she’s telling the truth,” I argued.
“That doesn’t change the fact that this Gazzo is going to come looking for his next payment. If she doesn’t have it, I’m afraid the consequences will be worse than she ever imagined.” My aunt sipped her tea.
“So what can we do?” Bea asked.
“I’m working on that,” Aunt Astrid assured us.
But I still felt as if there was a big piece of the story missing. Sure, Evelyn could have dabbled in something she shouldn’t have. But how? Tarots and Ouija boards d
idn’t hook the living up with paranormal mobsters by accident. I had a feeling this was a deliberate action.
“But where would she have gotten the information?” I mumbled. “I’m going to take a stroll over to the Elderflowers’ house.”
“No, you are not,” Bea said. “Not until we have a better grasp on what’s going on.”
“Yes, I am. Evelyn wanted to talk to me yesterday. Not Jake. Not you guys. Me. If I can get a look in her room, maybe I can find out how she made contact with this Gazzo, and we’ll have an easier time getting her out of this contract.”
“How are you going to get in?” Aunt Astrid asked.
“The same way you guys did. I’ll bring a care package.”
“All the same. Don’t go until Bea and I can get you a proper protection spell. No use you getting hurt in the process.”
I agreed to wait until closing time. That turned out to be perfect since once I arrived in my beat-up car on the Elderflowers’ block, I saw Fern and Gail outside with their father. They were going somewhere. Either the house was empty, or Evelyn was alone. Either option worked for me.
11
As Quiet as a Tomb
Once the Elderflowers’ car had driven out of sight, I parked my car a few doors down. With a pastry box filled with poppy-seed muffins, I trotted up to the front door and knocked. There was no answer. I rang the bell. Still nothing.
Just about every curtain was drawn over the windows facing the street. I looked around but didn’t see anyone else outside. Of course no one else was outside. It was chilly, and the sky was covered with cold, gray clouds. I was the only one around.
Acting as though I did it all the time, I skipped off the front step and trotted around to the back of the house. Keeping it professional, I knocked on the back door. If I stood on my tiptoes, I could look in the kitchen window.