I wouldn’t mind having Clarissa as a suspect. In fact, I made a mental note to snoop around a bit and see if I could find anything incriminating or suspicious about her or her interaction with Kenny. You never did know, after all.
Rosy the Keeper-now that was something that should be followed up on. Why was she distributing ghosts all over town? And why wasn’t she just managing the ones Rennie already had at the ghost houses? But I couldn’t really see how any of that could have led her to killing Kenny. Maybe I just didn’t know enough about their background. Who could help me with that? Derek? Maybe so.
A red car roared by, going much too fast for the quiet residential streets and I realized in a flash who was driving. It had to be Phyllis, Kenney’s ex-wife. I’d seen that car in front of Bentley’s.
“Obviously guilty,” I muttered to myself, and then laughed at my own joke. But it did remind me that the woman seemed to bear no love for her ex.
The car did a u-turn at the end of the block, then came roaring back. She pulled over and leaned out to look at me.
“I thought that was you,” she said. “I’m going out to grab a quick bite with Bentley. You wanna come?”
As I walked toward the car, smiling, I had to hold back a small grin at the “bite” comment. I had a feeling she had no clue about his being a vampire. I also had a rather firm sense that she didn’t have a supernatural bone in her body. Just something about her. So how in the world did she end up as Gran Ana’s goddaughter? Very strange.
“Thanks for asking. I’d love to, but I’m in the middle of something right now.”
“Too bad.”
“Listen, you said you were going out to see Gran Ana.”
“And I did.”
“How did she seem to you?”
She shoved her sunglasses up into her hair and gave me a penetrating look. “I know she’s your grandmother,” she said. “She told me. I guess we’re practically cousins or something.”
I couldn’t avoid a quick grimace. “I don’t think…,” I started, but she didn’t wait for a whole sentence to be completed.
“I don’t know why we never met before. Probably because my mother’s French and I spent most of my younger years over there—back in the days when Gran Ana lived in Paris. Next time you’re down in L.A. we’ll have to get together.”
So that was it—Phyllis had known Gran Ana overseas.
I leaned on the car so she wouldn’t race off, like she seemed about to do. “Are you going back down to L.A. today?”
“I’m hoping to.” Now she was drumming her fingers on the wheel. “It’s up to Bentley. I’ll see what he’s got for me at lunch.”
She wanted to go. I could feel it. But I clung to the car and leaned in a bit. “Did you get a chance to see Kenny before…?”
She made a face. “Nope. I didn’t get here until it was all over.”
I nodded. That was what I wanted her to say—because I could see a receipt for a motel just on the outskirts of town lying among her purse and papers on the floor on the passenger’s side. It was dated with yesterday’s date and I was being careful not to look down at it again.
So why was she lying to me?
She was looking at me shrewdly. “You’re investigating Kenny’s murder, aren’t you? Bentley told me that was what you were probably up to.”
My smile stiffened a bit. I hated Bentley telling her that. How’s a girl supposed to do any secret sleuthing if everyone knows what she’s up to?
“So how long were you and Kenny married?” I asked, knowing it was none of my business, but also knowing she was a talker. Time to tempt her to talk.
“Ten terrible months,” she told me, rolling her eyes. “We’d only been dating for three months when we tied the knot. Served us right. We hardly knew each other.”
“But I thought you were his agent.”
“For less than a year in all. We hated each other right from the first ‘I do’. Terrible mistake.”
“Did Gran Ana know about it?”
“Not at the time. Like I say—mistake.” She sighed and shook her head. “Well, gotta go honey. Don’t want to keep Bentley waiting. He said he could block off about thirty minutes for lunch with me, and that was it. You know how lawyers are.” She revved the engine a bit and that got me to back off. With a cheery wave, she was off again.
I watched her go, my mind racing, then I went back and sat on the swing, gliding back and forth. Significant others were usually the prime suspects in a murder like this. Ex-es had more reason for hate and revenge than almost anyone else. Bentley said Phyllis didn’t have a clear motive. Maybe not, but what if she was doing something at the behest of Gran Ana? What if….?
I shook away the thought. Gran Ana didn’t have a clear motive either, did she? And yet I couldn’t dismiss her from all this. Whatever she was up to, it was probably too deep for me to figure out.
Suddenly I remembered what Tommy had told me about the cause of death and I knew I had to go back to my old house and take a look. It wasn’t far—just a few blocks. I got up off the swing and turned quickly. Funny, but I’d had a sudden feeling that someone was watching me. The brush around the edge of the park seemed to be moving, as though some small animal was passing through.
“Hey!” I called out, but everything went still and no one answered.
I shrugged and started off toward the Haunted House, only looking back once to see if anyone—or anything—was following me.
Nope.
“Just my nerves,” I told myself, and walked faster.
A few minutes later I had the house in sight. I slowed down, wondering about my chances of getting in. That yellow police tape was everywhere, especially over the doors. There were a couple of cops I didn’t know, one at each entrance. Something told me they weren’t going to listen to any excuses for letting me in. They were just going to say no. I had to think of an alternative plan.
I was leaning on the fence, going over my options, when that neighbor, Bernie Krandall, who walked his dog all the time came up behind me and just about startled me out of my socks. I don’t know why I didn’t hear him approaching. Ordinarily, I’m super aware of things like that. But this time, he got me.
“Hey,” he said, right near my ear and at the same time, he touched my back with his hand.
“Ahhh!” I yelled, jumping a foot in the air. I whipped around and glared at him. “Don’t sneak up on people like that.”
He grunted. “Sorry,” he said reluctantly. “But I was just going to warn you. They won’t let you in.”
“Really?” I was still catching my breath. “What gives you that idea?”
I was actually being a bit sarcastic but he didn’t hear it that way. In fact, he was quite earnest.
“The yellow tape, of course. I tried to go in and they just about drew their weapons on me.”
That concerned me. “Really?”
He nodded. “And one other thing. Be careful if you’re going to skulk around in the yard or anything like that. There’s a little red fox whose been hanging around. I’m thinking of sic’ing my dog on it-let him teach her a lesson. We can’t have vermin around here. They bite. So be careful. You don’t want rabies.”
“I don’t want rabies,” I admitted. “But I think I’ve seen this fox. And I think she’s a beautiful little thing. I hope I catch sight of her today.”
He reared back as though worried my crazy attitude might be contagious or something. “You should stay away,” he said, still backing from me. “Just stay away. We don’t want anymore murders around here.”
“I can agree with you there,” I said, but he wasn’t feeling friendly. Grabbing the leash on his dog, Bernie pulled it tight and forced the animal to walk beside him. Together, they headed for home. And I turned back to my old house, thinking about how I was going to get in.
I knew I was going to use magic. And yes, I remembered that I wasn’t supposed to. But I also knew I wasn’t going to get in without it. So it had to be.
Quickly running through the spells I’d been learning, I remembered one that would let me be invisible for thirty seconds or so. Probably enough to get me in a door. But not enough to keep the door from opening and closing and making it obvious I was sneaking in. There had to be a better way.
Chapter 12
I strolled back down the block, pretending I was leaving in case anyone at the house had seen me hanging around, then came in from behind through the thick brush, and finally in among the camellia trees, near the kitchen door, but hidden from the view of anyone looking out that way.
One stroke of luck—the officer who had been guarding the back door had gone up to the front porch and was now talking to the officer guarding that entry. I scanned the back of the house. There were a few windows along this side, but each of them was shut and locked. I could see the latches from where I was and they looked as though they hadn’t moved in years. Further up, there were a few open windows. The problem was, how to get up there. There didn’t seem to be a good toehold anywhere.
And I had an idea. What if I went up to the house and touched it the way I had that huge stone the day before? What if I used my senses to request permission to climb, the way I had with the stone? A house was very different from a stone, but who knew? If it couldn’t respond it would ignore me.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained. I made my way carefully up to the wooden siding just off the back porch, then flattened my hands, closed my eyes, and tried hard to communicate something…anything. But the house wasn’t having any of it. I couldn’t feel a thing.
I sighed and drew back. I was going to have to think of something else.
A sound from the brush turned my head and there was Mandy again, in the camellia bushes, just as she’d been when I saw her here earlier. Somehow, that didn’t surprise me.
“Hey Mandy,” I whispered.
She nodded and crept closer, glancing at the doorway first. “You’re trying to get into the house,” she said, not even making it a question.
“That I am,” I said. “You got any good ideas?”
She nodded again and pulled me further from the doorway. “I’ve been studying the situation. I’d say this one.” She pointed to one of the windows with the locked-down-tight latch. “This one, okay? We’ll get it open.”
Fascinating, but not too credible. I looked at her with growing skepticism. “Mandy, what are you doing here?” I said.
“Looking for you,” she said, flashing her gaze right and left in a careful way. “Krissy told me you were out hunting for something scary, so I thought I’d come give you a hand.”
I stared for a moment. She was cute, her hair so pixie-like, her snub nose turned up and her eyes wide and green. I sort of liked her—but I didn’t know if I could trust her. Who was she anyway? Only one way to find out. Why not ask her?
“Who are you really?” I said.
She gave me an elfin grin. “A friend,” she said. “I’ll tell you all about it someday.”
I started to say something else, but she stopped me.
“We don’t have much time,” she said. “Let’s do this.”
And before I could say another word, she had that cute little rodent in her hand—Shrimp, wasn’t it?--and was whispering in its ear. She set it down. I swear it turned and grinned at us, then disappeared into the house. I think it found a hole or something, but I couldn’t swear to that. All I know is that he got in immediately, and in a couple of minutes, he was on the inside of the widow, working on the latch with all his might.
I stood watching with my mouth hanging open. He struggled with it, pushing and then pulling, his little face all contorted with the effort. And then he did it. The latch cranked open.
We did some silent cheering and he gave a little bow. So cute!
I reached up and shoved the window. It was cranky at first, as though it had been painted shut a few times. But it finally gave and I slid it open quickly, then boosted myself up and in through the window. I looked back down at Mandy. She’d just caught Shrimp as he leaped from the windowsill. She was busy putting him in her pocket. I leaned out.
“Thanks,” I whispered. “Don’t let them see you.”
“Don’t you get caught in there,” Mandy said. “We’ll wait for you out here.”
I hesitated. I wanted to tell her not to bother, but that seemed almost rude, so I just smiled and turned to get the lay of the land. From what I could tell, the two cops were talking just outside the front door. I padded through to the stairway as quietly as I could. I skirted the pentagram. It was all cleaned up and yellow tape had been applied to keep people back from the exact place where the body had been found. I didn’t want to linger. Thinking about what had happened there was just too sad, too creepy. Still, I knew I was going to study it eventually. For some reason it seemed Kenny’s body had been placed in the middle of it on purpose. The question was, why?
I made it upstairs and went straight to the bedroom where I’d talked to my Aunt Tina the night before. If she was my Aunt Tina. That was yet to be determined.
I closed the door to the room and went through the ritual Clarissa had talked about, but nothing stirred for me. I closed my eyes and just listened for a moment, then chanted a few lines of Latin poetry.
Nothing.
That was annoying. I knew they were there. They had to be. So why pretend they weren’t?
Finally I opened my eyes and said, “Aunt Tina, I’d really like to talk to you. Can you come this way for a moment or two?”
I listened hard, but no one came. I knew I would probably have to call out more loudly in order to be heard, even by ghosts, but I couldn’t do that. The two cops standing guard would hear that too. I was having enough trouble walking these wood floors without squeaking.
“Okay. I’m going to go looking for you.”
An empty threat, but what else did I have?
I went from one bedroom to another. The beds that had been slept in were still just as the sleepers had left them. That had been Derek and Mario and Lilah, as well as Clarissa and Kenny. Gordon had been here for awhile, but then he’d left without telling anyone where he was going. Had he run off because he saw something bad? Had he run off because he’d done something bad? Or had he been forced to go? At any rate, he left. And Kenny had been killed, either before or after.
Where was Clarissa during all that? Awake or asleep?
So many questions.
I was about to give up on Aunt Tina. Carefully, I snuck out onto the landing so that I could look down at the pentagram again. The body had been found right on top of the center of it. That might be a coincidence—or it might mean supernatural elements were at play. Nothing I’d seen so far gave me any clues one way or the other.
Suddenly, a noise rocketed through the house that made me gasp. One of the cops had swung the door open and it hit the wall with a crash that might have cracked the glass for all I knew. He was coming in. I could see him through the slats in the stairway. And he had a gun in his hand.
I shrank back but I had nowhere to hide. He was bounding up the stairs. We would be face to face in seconds. A voice came into my head, a command.
“Make yourself skinny. Skinny as a rail. Now!”
I muttered a phrase and felt a lightening. Suddenly a long arm shot out and yanked me into a crack between a bedroom and a closet. I could barely breathe, but I was out of sight as far as the guard cop was concerned. He walked right past me and didn’t notice a thing. I waited, trying not to make any sound at all. He wandered back and forth, pushing doors open and scanning the room, then going on to the next one. He must have heard something to make him so sure someone was up here. But as far as I could see, he couldn’t tell exactly where I was.
I’d slowed my breathing, trying hard to keep it still. But I was beginning to wonder just who had pulled me in, and just what sort of a space I’d been pulled into. Full of spiders, I’d bet. And the moment I thought that, a sticky web fell over my face, making me gag and yank at it
with my hands. I held my breath, wondering if the cop had heard me. But he was calling to the other guy, making enough noise to cover any small hysterics I might go into.
“I can’t find anything, Vern. I think you were dreaming. No sign of life at all.”
I closed my eyes and calmed down. I could hear him going back down the stairs and I breathed a sigh of relief. Only now I was going to have to figure out how to get out of this tiny sliver of a space. It was tighter than a tomb.
But I had a spell…didn’t I? I did. And I used it.
The next thing I knew I was back on the landing, only cringing slightly, slipping back into the bedroom and closing the door very quietly.
“Oh, alright then,” a voice said. “Go ahead. Ask me your questions. But I’m busy. I can’t stay long.”
I knew it was Tina, and this time, when I turned, I could see her. She looked too young to have died, her short strawberry blond hair curling around her face, wearing jeans and a plaid shirt. She looked like a mom, a middle-aged friend, a…an aunt. A wave of sadness came over me. Why had she died? But you really couldn’t just blurt out a question like that, could you?
“Aunt Tina,” I said, trying to keep my voice as low as possible without whispering. “Thanks for talking to me. I just want to know if you saw the murder and know who did it.”
“Murder?” She looked sideways, acting nervous. “What murder?”
Okay, now I knew she was holding back. They’d all known about the murder, hadn’t they? Why else would they have gone to hide in the basement? But I held back my impatience and tried to stay calm.
“The one here last night. Kenny Sands was killed sometime during the night. Did you see anything strange going on?”
“Strange? You think something strange would turn my head? Honey, I’ve been through the mill for the last few years. ‘Strange’ is my middle name these days.”
“But you heard about the murder, didn’t you?”
She shook her head. “I try to stay away from people who talk trash. I didn’t want to hear a thing about it. I mostly keep to myself you know.” Her gaze sharpened. “If there was a murder, your Gran Ana probably had a hand in it. That’s all I know.”
Witches in Wonderland Page 13
