“Sure. I’m going to take a shower myself,” said Lark.
“I’ll pop into the gift shop and then take my turn in the shower. I hope it’s a slow night. I’m exhausted,” sighed Pep.
Feeling tired but relieved that we were home, and more than ready for my bath, I led the way toward the hallway. I pushed through the door and walked past Steve’s closet, my cousins not far behind.
“Hi, Steve,” I called out as I went by.
We were past the closer door before I realized that something was wrong.
I glanced back over my shoulder at Lark and Pep, who had also stopped.
“He didn’t say hi back,” murmured Lark.
“No, he didn’t,” I said grimly, going to the door and knocking firmly.
There was no response. I turned my head to the side, but I didn’t hear anything.
“What’s happening?” said Pep.
I tried the door and it swung open. Steve’s closet was empty.
“He’s probably just gone visiting,” I said, thinking hard. “He doesn’t hang out in that closet all the time.”
“Let’s ask Mr. Blacksmith about it, or anyone we can find,” said Lark.
Mr. Blacksmith was never far off, so I called out to him as we turned and headed toward the foyer. The butler usually materialized within seconds and offered a warm hand towel as a refresher, and anything else we might desire.
This time my call was answered with silence. We stood motionless in the foyer, the strangeness of the situation coming home to us at last.
Haunted Bluff Mansion was the most familiar place in the world. I had lived there for most of my life; I could describe every feature with my eyes closed. I knew the place in summer, in winter, and in every weather pattern in between. I knew what the mansion was like in storms and when it was raining, in sunshine and autumn chill.
One way I had never experienced Haunted Bluff, however, was in complete silence. There were always people around, the sound of arguments, conversations, chores being done, and pounding feet. My mom was somewhere giving orders and working hard herself. Audrey was making delicious food. Meg was working on design and décor, and the haunt hunters were reporting in after a hard day in the field. Supernaturals were coming in, arguing, cleaning, or doing something else that made their presence felt. Cookie was stumping around, grumbling about whatever had triggered her ire that day.
At the moment, not one of those things was happening.
Lark and Pep felt it too. The mansion had taken on an almost sinister feeling.
“Where is everyone?” said Lark, keeping her voice low, as if the walls would talk back if they heard her.
“Has Mr. Blacksmith ever not come when you called him?” Pep wondered.
I glanced at the stairs, back the way we had come, and toward the door to the library, as if I had to check every entrance before I could make myself believe that Mr. Blacksmith wasn’t coming.
And neither was anyone else.
“No one is around. Where did they all go?” whispered Pep. Our comfort level had suddenly plummeted.
“What did you think looked odd about the outside of the mansion?” Lark asked.
Pep bit her lip. “I thought it was odd that no lights were on in the haunted house. Usually at this time of night that’s where the most lights are, because they’re setting everything up,” she explained.
“Not tonight, though,” I muttered. “Why not?”
“In fact, there aren’t many lights on at all. Just a couple. Why would that be?” Pep said.
“It wasn’t night when everyone stopped turning lights on. It was still daytime, which means that it was a while ago,” I observed.
“That’s not good,” said Lark.
“Maybe they’re just having a really long union meeting or something. You know how the supernaturals get, all demanding and stuff,” said Pep. But she didn’t sound confident, I wasn’t either.
It was clear at last, and I wished we had heeded Pep’s instincts after we’d landed with the owls. Something was very wrong.
“Cookie is probably around. She never helps get ready for the haunted house,” I said. “Let’s go find her.”
The silence didn’t change as we made our way up the stairs. I could feel myself almost leaning forward to listen for any scrap of noise. There was no sign that my family was in the building at all.
“If they had left, wouldn’t they have told us?” said Pep. She was leading the way, constantly looking around to see if her mom or anyone else would show up from some dark room.
“You would think. They always have before. If nothing else, Mom doesn’t like to leave Uncle Taft alone,” I said.
For good reason too. Not only could Uncle Taft get into a lot of trouble, but now that the Root was active and headquartered nearby his safety was in question if he left the mansion.
We made our way to Cookie’s wing and knocked on the door, but there was no answer.
“She wouldn’t ignore us, would she?” said Lark.
“I doubt it. She doesn’t actually want harm to come to any of us, and if the rest of the family had left in a hurry she’d want us to know,” said Lark.
“That makes it even worse,” said Pep.
“How so?” asked Lark.
Her sister looked at her grimly. “That means they really are all missing,” she said.
We began our search then and there, starting with the library and making our way upward. The mansion had enough floors that it took a while. There was the silver room and the armory, the Magenta Dining Room and the Bits and Bobs shop. Lark’s ice cream parlor was as empty as everywhere else.
Complete darkness had fallen by the time we had checked every room.
“Maybe they went out to see the skeletons, or the ghosts, or Evangeline,” I suggested. But when I peered out the window, Evangeline’s light was off and there was no sign of movement from the ghostly or skeletons’ quarters.
“Could they have all accidentally locked themselves in the carriage house?” said Lark, grasping at straws.
“I doubt it,” I said.
Not until I had to search the entire estate systematically did I realize how vast it really was.
“What about Down Below?” said Lark at last. We had made our way to the mailroom after checking everywhere else. The door to my mom’s office stood open as if she had planned to come right back, but the room itself was dark and empty.
“The only way the whole family went down there was if they were kidnapped,” I said.
“Seems doubtful the Fudge would do that,” said Lark. “Too much work.”
I went to the basement door and undid all the locks. Then I knocked.
We waited and waited. The longer we stood, there the more frustrated I got. My whole family was missing and here we were, just waiting around!
I knocked again, and still nothing happened.
“We have to keep looking,” said Pep, sounding desperate.
“They could be holding our whole family prisoner! Even Lizzie,” I said.
“Probably not. If they were, I’m sure they’d yell it from the rooftops. Besides, what good would that do? The Fudge wouldn’t jeopardize his relationship with the Garbos,” said Lark.
Part of me knew she was right, but the other part was still frantically afraid.
“Where’s our family?” I whispered, staring at the floor, and at the walls that seemed to be closing in on us.
Neither of my cousins could answer me. The whole estate was still fearfully quiet. If you had asked me in the morning if I wanted some peace and quiet from my family, I would have said yes, absolutely. But now that I had it, all I wanted was Cam’s mashing about and asking what was for dinner, or my mom giving orders in brusque tones. As the minutes stretched on and so did the silence, I became ever more convinced that there was something terribly wrong.
“The car was in the driveway, right? There were brooms and owls where they’re supposed to be?” I reviewed the facts in my mind.
“Yes. If they left, it wasn’t by any of the usual means,” said Lark.
“Maybe it was by boat,” I was thinking of my date with Grant.
“Maybe they’re all at his cottage,” said Pep hopefully.
“The family would never all fit there,” I said ruefully. “At least not comfortably.”
Fear started to curl inside me again after a moment of hopefulness. My mind worked through the options, and the one I clung to was that there was somewhere that we hadn’t looked.
If only I could figure out . . .
“They’re in the haunted house,” I whispered. There was no need to say it so quietly. No one was near us.
Pep looked as if I’d electrified her. Lark looked shocked. “Why haven’t they come out?”
“They can’t,” I said. “Something or someone is holding our entire family in the haunted house. Maybe some supernaturals are prisoners as well. We haven’t looked there. It’s the only explanation that makes any sense. We didn’t check there because there were no lights on, but the family didn’t leave. There’s no sign of a struggle anywhere. They’re in the haunted house because that’s where they were when they were kidnapped,” I finished.
Lark was slowly nodding her head. “Should we go get them?”
“Yes, but let’s make sure we’re prepared before we go running up there,” I said grimly.
“What are you talking about? We can’t waste a second! They could be murdered as we speak,” said Pep.
“I don’t think so. If someone wanted to murder the whole family, they would have done it when we were at home too. Something else is going on. There’s a reason the family was merely taken prisoner. Let’s start at the armory,” I said, trying to remain calm.
Before we left, Lark made sure to re-lock every lock on the door that led Down Below.
“And by that you mean Audrey’s supply store of herbs?” said Lark.
“Let’s do that, then we’ll stop at the real armory,” I murmured, and off we went.
Audrey had a storage area off the kitchen where she kept herbs, some for cooking meals and some for cooking up enchantments. On the shelves were all kinds of goodies, including one shelf in particular that held Audrey’s rarer and more dangerous offerings. I went straight for those.
“Maine Coast Blasting Star. A combination of seaweed off the rocks and sand boiled down,” I murmured. “This could be useful.”
“I have Black Cherry Garlic,” said Lark. “Cookie’s been making it for years. It’s momentarily blinding.”
“Garlic is so strong. Once I almost thought it was just plain black cherries and put it in a fruit salad. Cookie saw me doing it. I know for a fact that the look on her face meant that she was contemplating letting me continue,” said Pep.
Lark and I looked at her.
“Fine. I won’t retell my tale of sadness. Let’s go be badasses and save the family,” sighed Pep.
“Pretty sure you did just retell the tale, but now that you mention it, no, I don’t want to hear it,” said Lark.
Once we had gathered the essentials we made our way to the armory, grim-faced.
“Should we tell Grant?” Pep asked.
“If we knew where he was I’d say yes, but we don’t have time to look,” I said. Maybe, I thought bitterly, if I had figured out earlier that my family had been taken prisoner there would have been time to get reinforcements. Instead I had ignored Pep’s intuition that something was wrong, and gone off busily eating dinner and relaxing while the rest of the family were being kept prisoner in the haunted house.
I certainly hoped I was right. If I wasn’t, we’d be back to square one, and more time would have been lost. That was one thing we couldn’t afford.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The armory had various things Cookie liked to use when she reenacted medieval battles, something she did by herself with surprising frequency. As my mother tried to tell her, she wasn’t using practice daggers. They were the real thing. Cookie just continued on her way, as usual.
After some consideration, Lark chose a shield. I picked up a small knife, which I figured I might need if I found my family tied up. Pep cast a simple enchantment that made the shield lighter and easier for Lark to lift.
“We ready?” Pep murmured. Lark and I nodded.
“It’s now or never. Where in the haunted house do you think they are?” said Lark.
I shook my head. “Depends on what happened. Cleaver Kitchen and the costume storage room would be the most likely, but they could just as easily be in the Garden of Severed Heads.”
“Mom really outdid herself on that one.” Pep looked sick just hearing the title.
I led the way to the entrance of the haunted house and carefully pushed the door open. The room beyond it was completely dark, without even a glimmer from the headstones.
We moved on. The air felt warm and dry, as if it hadn’t been circulating for a long time. I blinked but could still see nothing. Behind me I felt Lark and Pep pull closer together.
As we moved along the hallway, my whole body was alert. Something could jump out at us at any moment. Not wanting to alert whoever was inside the haunted house, Lark closed the door as silently as she could. I wanted to tell her I was impressed with how quiet she managed to keep it, but I didn’t want to risk speaking.
We moved forward as a unit; I knew the haunted house by heart, even in the dark. As we felt our way, I slid my feet along the floor so they’d alert me to anything in my path before we tripped over it. But we didn’t encounter anything or anyone that shouldn’t have been there.
As we moved, I kept reminding myself that my whole family was here somewhere. We reached the Garden of Severed Heads, where Meg really in fact outdone herself, but where yet again we found no sign of our family, the supernaturals, or anyone else.
The Garden was filled with fake soil. The heads weren’t just human, there were animal and supernatural heads as well. There were even some skulls. Fake blood was everywhere. The fragrant smell of rot permeated the space.
Lark made a face. “Mom really outdid herself with this. Woman really needs a hobby.”
“She has hobbies. She sews and does arts and crafts.” Pep spread her arms wide to indicate that she was talking about Meg already putting those skills to good use.
We kept moving. I didn’t want to enter the Cleaver Kitchen from the main door; I felt that it would be too dangerous to just walk in where there were so many cleavers ready to chop meat. Even if the skeletons weren’t inside the room using them, the cleavers would still be handy for whoever might want to wield one.
We decided to enter the kitchen from a side entrance that came through from the room where we’d found the hole in the wall. That path might let us accomplish two things at once. We’d be safer, and I could see if the hole was back. That would at least explain how my family had been snuck up on and taken captive.
The haunted forest was on the way, and once again we moved through it as quietly as we could. I liked this room, though it wasn’t considered one of the scariest. The forest had scraggly black trees and leaves dripping with blood. The owls took turns hooting fiercely, and there was a stench like rotting leaves that Meg had asked Cookie to brew. She had done all too good a job at mimicking the smell of muck and rot.
Just as I thought we had made it safely to the room where the hole had been, something brushed against my arm.
It was all the warming I had before a dark figure lunged at me.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Meeting resistance, the figure tried to retreat, but I prevented it by leaping forward and seizing his black robe. The figure thrashed around, and when Lark and Pep piled around me and tried to help, it let out an ear-splitting wail.
“Shut up!” I said through gritted teeth.
“What?” The figure sounded surprised. So was I.
We all stopped moving. Carefully I let go of the robe, and the hooded figure turned toward me and pulled his hood down.
Tommy the ghost floated before me.
Tommy was a goof and a trouble-maker, but I thought he was a good sort.
“I don’t understand,” Lark complained.
“That makes two of us. What are you grabbing my cloak for?” Tommy asked me.
The hapless Tommy looked bewildered and guilty. Jezebel was forever saying that he was only useful because he never got bored, therefore he could spend all evening popping out at visitors and be just as delighted at the end as he’d been at the beginning. Most of the other supernaturals quickly tired of such work. Tommy did not.
“You lunged at me,” I said, trying to keep my voice low.
“Jane, this is a haunted house. That’s my job,” he said.
“The haunted house isn’t open yet, and my entire family is missing. I thought you were a kidnapper,” I said.
Tommy stared at me. He processed words slowly. “I don’t understand,” he said finally.
“Something is wrong. I have to find my family. Have you seen them?” I demanded.
“No. I get here early, though. I like time to prepare and get my game face ready. This is a serious craft and it must be treated with the utmost respect. I don’t like distractions,” he explained.
I could just feel Lark rolling her eyes.
“Very well. Have you heard anything out of the ordinary?” I asked.
He frowned, then his brow cleared and his face brightened. “As a matter of fact I did! I heard a dragging sound earlier. That’s not usual around here. I only remember because it was at the moment when I was trying to focus on my breath, and the noise made it hard to concentrate,” he explained proudly.
“Why was he doing that?” Lark whispered to Pep, who whispered back.
“You nearly scared me witless,” said Tommy.
“All those wits you have. Let’s go,” said Lark. She grabbed his cloak and propelled the shocked ghost forward.
“Stay behind us. If there’s trouble, go find Grant Hastings,” I whispered to him as we went.
“The new renter on the estate? What I wouldn’t do for those shoulders. You better believe I’ll find him,” Tommy assured me.
Spooky Skeleton Page 17
