The Unusual Suspects

by Michael Buckley

  “What’s Granny’s plan?” Daphne said, smacking at the frog monster’s hand as it snatched at her through the window.

  “You don’t want to know!” Sabrina replied.

  The car crashed through the old wooden sign and it exploded around them. A giant chunk slid over the roof and by the sound of the pained groan, smacked the monster in her head. The collision was enough to knock the frog-girl off the car and she tumbled painfully to the ground.

  Unfortunately, Granny didn’t stop driving, and when the jalopy raced onto the beginning of the rickety bridge, Sabrina knew they were in trouble. Creaking beams and snapping wood drowned out the car’s backfires and grinding gears. The old bridge tilted to the left just as the car reached the halfway point, and she saw a sight that nearly gave her a heart attack. The middle of the bridge had collapsed, leaving a giant hole no car could ever get across. And Granny wasn’t slowing down.

  “Granny, we’re not going to make it!” Sabrina shouted, battling the roaring engine to be heard.

  “I love pancakes, too,” the old woman shouted back.

  I hate this car, Sabrina thought to herself.

  Granny Relda floored the accelerator, the engine screamed, a flame shot out of the car’s muffler, and suddenly they were soaring over the gaping hole. They landed hard on the other side and raced onto the road just as the bridge buckled and collapsed into the rocky stream below.

  After several yards, Granny brought the car to a stop. She shut off the engine.

  “That took care of the ugly little beast.” Granny laughed as she turned around to face the girls. “How exciting was that? Were you excited? I’m having the time of my life!”

  Everyone remained speechless, except for Elvis, who whined softly. Granny Relda didn’t notice; she continued to jabber on like a little kid who had had too much sugar before bedtime.

  “Oh, boy, did Froggie get the surprise of her life,” she continued, smacking the steering wheel proudly. “You put Relda Grimm behind the wheel and things get done.”

  The old woman turned back around and prepared to start the car again but everyone shouted “No!” in unison. Mr. Canis snatched the keys out of the ignition. Sabrina saw the disappointment in her grandmother’s face. The old woman slowly got out of the car and Mr. Canis slid over into the driver’s seat. As she got in on the passenger’s side, Granny Relda crossed her arms and pouted. It reminded Sabrina of something Daphne would do.

  “My driving isn’t that bad, is it?” the old woman asked.

  “Yes!” everyone shouted.

  Once the house was unlocked, the family staggered inside, with Sabrina quietly cursing one of the worst days of her life.

  Puck was sprawled across the couch. He had moved the books away from the television and was watching it with the sound all the way up. The boy was surrounded by three delivery pizza boxes, empty bags of chips, a leaky carton of ice cream, and a two-liter bottle of soda from which he was currently drinking. On his belly was a can of spray cheese and when he saw the family limp into the house, he put down the soda and lifted the cheese can, spraying an enormous portion into his mouth. Then he gargled with it. Once he had swallowed the greasy orange junk food, he let out an enormous belch that actually rattled the windows.

  “Old lady!” he crowed. “You’ve been hiding this magic box from me! You can see other worlds on it. I just watched a man and his talking sports car jump across a river!”

  Sabrina felt her exhaustion turn instantly to anger. From their expressions, she could see the rest of the family felt the same way. While they had been hunted by a frog monster, Puck had had the best day of his life. Fate was cruel.

  “What?” he said defensively, noticing their glares.

  Granny started dinner and patiently explained to Puck what had happened to them. The boy seemed to think Mr. Grumpner’s murder was fascinating and was terribly depressed that he hadn’t seen the frog-girl.

  “Was she ugly?” he asked. “Why is it that I miss all the fun?”

  “I guess you just don’t have our luck,” Sabrina grumbled.

  “I hope the two of you washed,” he said to the girls. “Frogs give you warts and it sounds like the one you fought off was mighty big. I wouldn’t be surprised if you wake up in the morning and find you are one giant brown wart.”

  Daphne’s eyes grew as big as saucers. “Nuh-uh,” she said.

  “Sorry, kiddo, but if you hurry and take a bath it might not be too late!” Puck advised.

  The little girl rushed out of the kitchen and could be heard running through the house and up to the bathroom.

  “You shouldn’t tease her like that,” Sabrina said, vigorously washing her hands at the kitchen sink.

  “Puck, do you know the Widow?” Granny Relda asked as she got up to stir a pot of soup on the stove.

  “Of course,” Puck replied. “Queen of the crows.”

  “Go get her,” Granny Relda said.

  “Why?” he asked. “Are we going to cook her?”

  “Of course not,” Granny said, horrified. “I have some questions for her.”

  “Since when does the Trickster King act as your messenger, old lady?” the boy asked.

  “Since he started living under her roof,” Mr. Canis growled. He slammed his fist down hard on the kitchen counter, causing the sugar bowl to lose its lid. “This is serious business, boy. Now go!”

  Puck eyed Canis stubbornly. “Villains do not run errands!”

  The old man’s eyes turned ice blue and a bit of his Wolf voice came out. “I’ll show you a villain, Trickster.”

  Glistening wings sprang from Puck’s back and flapped loudly. He flew quickly through the house and slammed the front door as he left.

  Mr. Canis leaned against the kitchen doorway and tried to catch his breath. This was the first day he had been out of his room in three weeks and it hadn’t been an easy one. If the old man was struggling with keeping his emotions in check, the last four hours had been an incredible test.

  “Mr. Canis,” Granny said, rubbing the old man’s back with her palm. “Go and rest.”

  “There may be more danger,” Canis insisted.

  “Old friend, I already have three children arguing all the time,” Granny Relda scolded, “I do not need another.”

  The old man nodded and shuffled out of the kitchen.

  “Who’s the Widow?” Sabrina asked.

  “Hans Christian Andersen wrote about her in ‘The Snow Queen.’ She’s an old friend,” Granny said. “She might be able to shed some light on the crow feathers we found. She’s sort of an expert on birds.”

  “So you don’t think the frog-girl killed Mr. Grumpner?” Sabrina said.

  “No, liebling, frogs don’t make webs,” the old woman said.

  “Neither do birds.”

  “True. But the birds may have seen something.”

  When dinner was ready, Granny and the girls met in the dining room. Daphne’s skin was red from scrubbing and her hair was wrapped up in a big white towel. The family took their seats and Granny served herself and the girls some hot soup and buttered rolls. The soup tasted like warm butterscotch pudding but Sabrina was so hungry she didn’t have the strength to make her usual complaint about her grandmother’s weird food.

  Between slurps of soup, the old woman jotted some notes in her notebook.

  “Well, then, it looks like we’ve got two monsters on our hands, now,” Granny Relda said. “One frog-girl …”

  “An a ian ida,” Daphne mumbled between bites of bread.

  “What?’

  Daphne swallowed. “And a giant spider,” she repeated and then immediately stuffed another oversized bite into her mouth.

  “I agree,” Granny Relda said. “Charming was way off on his ‘army of spiders’ theory. I think it was one big one.”

  “Don’t forget the broken window,” Sabrina said. “That’s how it got inside.”

  “Maybe,” Granny replied.

  “You don’t think so?” the g
irl asked.

  “The glass was all over the floor, so something came through that window, and by how spread out the shards of glass were, I’d say it came in fast.”

  “Urds,” Daphne mumbled, with a mouthful of soup.

  “Right, the birds,” Sabrina said. “The black feathers were underneath the window. But that’s where I get confused. Why would birds have come into the room?”

  “Birds eat spiders,” Granny Relda explained as she stood up and crossed the room to a pile of books stacked next to the radiator. She tugged at a couple in the middle of the stack and sent the rest tumbling to the ground. She left the fallen pile where it was and returned to the table. Granny wasn’t much of a housekeeper.

  “This book is just about everything ever written on giant monster spiders,” Granny Relda said, setting it in front of the girls. “It’s a bit dry, and the author has an unhealthy fear of certain animals, but it might be helpful.”

  Sabrina eyed the book, entitled Magical Mutations of Insects, Reptiles, and Kitties. She opened the cover and saw a crude drawing of a giant kitten chewing on several screaming farmers. She flipped to another page and a thin pamphlet fell out. She picked it up and examined it. The cover read Rumpelstiltskin’s Secret Nature.

  “What’s this?” she said, leafing through it. The pages were filled with tiny, neat writing.

  “I’ve been looking for that for ages,” Granny said. “That’s a book your great aunt Matilda Grimm wrote.”

  Daphne took the pamphlet. “Rumpel … rumpel … what’s this say?”

  “It’s called Rumpelstiltskin’s Secret Nature,” her grandmother said, taking the booklet from the little girl. “Matilda wrote a lot about Rumpelstiltskin. You could say she was one of the few fairy-tale specialists in this family. She had dozens of theories on why Rumpelstiltskin kept trying to trick people out of their firstborn children. You should read it when you get a chance.”

  “I’ll check this out later,” Sabrina said, setting the mutations book aside.

  “Anyone for more camel hump soup?” Granny Relda asked as she got up from the table.

  “This is made from a camel’s hump?” Sabrina cried, dropping her spoon as images of a sweaty, flea-covered camel danced around in her mind. She’d seen one at the Bronx Zoo with her father and could still smell its rank breath years later. She felt sick.

  “Actually, it’s two-hump camel soup but I only use the second hump,” Granny Relda explained. “The first hump is a little tough, and besides, it’s the second hump that has all the flavor.”

  The girls stared at the old woman as if she were playing an elaborate joke on them, but Sabrina could see from her expression that she was serious. Of course, Daphne clapped her hands happily, and cried, “I’ll have more! And this time make sure there’s some extra hump in there!”

  Sabrina slowly pushed her nearly empty bowl away just as there was a knock on the front door. Granny, who was on her way to the kitchen, stopped and rushed to answer it, with the girls following right on her heels. There on the porch stood a humongous black crow. Its eyes and beak bobbed nervously, and its squawk was ear-shattering. On one of its legs was a black ribbon, and when it saw the family it dipped its head in what Sabrina guessed was a bow of respect.

  “Good afternoon, Widow,” Granny Relda said to the bird.

  “Good afternoon to you, Relda Grimm,” the crow croaked in a scratchy yet feminine voice. Daphne squealed in glee, but Sabrina’s stomach did a flip-flop.

  More talking animals, ugh.

  “Do you know that little brat you sent plucked a feather out of my behind and laughed?” the crow continued.

  “I am very sorry,” Granny Relda apologized. “I haven’t seen you as a crow in some time.”

  “Well, the boy said it was important, so I did the bird thing. Normally, I’d take the seven down to the forty and get off at Miller Road, but you know that disaster with all the orange cones, and right now the eighteen is backed up for miles. At this time of night flying is really the quickest way,” the bird croaked.

  “Your English is coming along very well,” Granny Relda commented.

  “Thank you,” the crow cawed. “Some of the others refuse to speak anything but Crow-ish, but I say you have to adapt. It’s good to learn new things. I’ve even been surfing the Web.”

  “What fun,” Granny said with a smile. “I was wondering if you had heard about the human that was killed today at the elementary school?”

  “Yes, I have,” the Widow replied. “Want to know how I know?”

  Granny nodded.

  “A little bird told me,” the crow said. For a moment, there was silence. “Get it? A little bird told me?”

  “That’s very funny,” the old woman said, as a pained smile crossed her face. Sabrina rolled her eyes, but Daphne laughed so hard she snorted.

  “Oh, I like the little one.” The crow chuckled. “You gotta have a good sense of humor to live in this town.”

  “The death was very suspicious,” Granny Relda said, trying to steer the conversation back to the murder. She took one of the black feathers they had found in the classroom out of her handbag and held it out to the bird. “This was at the crime scene.”

  “I’ve heard rumblings in the flock,” the Widow said, eyeing the feather.

  “Rumblings?” Granny Relda asked.

  The bird hesitated and looked around as if someone might be listening.

  “Some of the crows claim they blacked out. They say they can’t account for about fifteen minutes of the day,” the crow whispered. “The ones I talked to said they heard music and suddenly they were all standing around the school yard, unsure of how they got there. Sounds like the piper is back to his old games.”

  “That would be unfortunate,” Granny said.

  “But I don’t think it’s your biggest problem,” the crow continued. “Someone’s sent you a message and I’m warning you, Relda, you don’t want to mess with the Scarlet Hand.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said the old woman. “What message?”

  “It’s all over your house, Relda. Whatever you’ve gotten involved in this time has attracted the attention of some very bad people.”

  Sabrina and Daphne ran down the porch steps and looked up at the house. On the windows, roof, and even on the chimney were red-paint hands, just like the one they had found on the chalkboard in Mr. Grumpner’s room.

  “Who did this?” Sabrina asked.

  “We’ve only been home for an hour,” Daphne added.

  The Widow hopped down the steps and flew up into the air. “Keep your nestlings close,” the crow squawked as it disappeared over the tree line.

  “Girls, get back into the house,” Granny Relda said sternly.

  t was obvious to Sabrina that the Scarlet Hand had spooked Granny Relda. The old woman spent the rest of the night silently digging through her old books and taking notes. When the girls announced they were going to bed, she mumbled what sounded like good night, but kept researching.

  While Daphne brushed her teeth, Sabrina ran her head under the bathtub faucet and washed her hair for the fourth time that day. She wrapped it up in a towel, and the girls headed for their bedroom. Daphne put on her favorite pair of footie pajamas and pinned her deputy’s badge to them. After buffing it into a shine, she went to their father’s desk, which the little girl was slowly converting into a beauty parlor, and took a hairbrush from one of its drawers.

  “Can I?” she asked. Sabrina nodded and her little sister climbed up on the bed, took the towel off of the older girl’s head, and ran the brush over her long blond hair. For some reason, brushing Sabrina’s hair helped calm Daphne down so that she could go to sleep. After finding a dead body, being attacked by a frog-girl, nearly dying with Granny behind the wheel of the car, and having the house vandalized right under their noses, Daphne would be brushing for a long time, Sabrina suspected.

  “You OK?” she asked.

  “I can’t get Mr. Grumpne
r’s face out of my head,” Daphne replied.

  “Try not to think about it.”

  “But we have to think about it. Now that we’re police officers, it’s up to us to find his killer.”

  “I think we should let the sheriff handle this one,” Sabrina said.

  “We can’t. We made a vow. Besides, the town needs us to solve the mystery. We are Grimms and this is what we …”

  “What we need to do is find Mom and Dad,” Sabrina interrupted.

  “We’ll find them,” her sister said.

  “I don’t know how. We’ve been here for three weeks and have spent all our time catching Lilliputians and killing giants. Isn’t it time to start putting Mom and Dad first?”

  “The mayor needs our help.”

  “And while we’re busy doing the mayor’s job, Mom and Dad are still missing,” Sabrina snapped. “How do we know that Charming isn’t responsible?”

  “He wouldn’t do that.”

  “He’s an Everafter, Daphne! Everafters can’t be …”

  “What?” Daphne said. “Everafters can’t be what?”

  “Trusted!” Sabrina exploded.

  Her sister looked at Sabrina as if she didn’t recognize her. It was an expression more hurtful than any word the little girl could have said.

  “It’s obvious an Everafter kidnapped our parents and it’s also obvious that an Everafter is behind Grumpner’s murder,” Sabrina tried to explain.

  “Sabrina, they aren’t all bad.”

  “All the ones I’ve met,” the older girl insisted.

  Daphne set the hairbrush on the nightstand, crawled under the covers, and turned her back on her sister.

  “I don’t like you very much, right now,” she whispered.

  “You’ll see I’m right soon enough,” Sabrina said.

  She stared up at the ceiling, waiting for Daphne to respond, but the little girl remained quiet. Sabrina told herself she didn’t care. Daphne wasn’t going to make her feel guilty. She’d worry about being tolerant and accepting when their mother and father came home.