Gram Croakies

by Sam Cheever

  Her eyes fluttered open and she blinked up at me as if she didn’t know where she was for a beat. Then she smiled. “Oh my.” She chuckled, sitting straighter in the chair.

  I heard Sebille’s heavy footfall behind me. “Would you like some tea, Mrs. F?”

  The older woman smiled past me. “Yes, thank you, Sebille, dear. I’d love some tea.”

  When Sebille left to make the tea, Mrs. Foxladle patted me on the arm, chuckling. “Don’t look so horrified dear. I might be old, but I’m not quite that old yet. I’m not going to wander in off the street and drop dead among all my friends.” She waved her arms to indicate the shelves of books.

  “Oh, I didn’t…”

  “Of course, you did, hon. It’s okay. I’m sure I look like death warmed over. To tell you the truth, I’m just exhausted. I never realized how much work would be involved in planning all these funerals.” Her voice broke on the last word. She took a shuddering breath. “I hope you don’t mind. I just needed to get away from it all for a bit.”

  Sebille handed a steaming cup of tea around me.

  “Don’t be silly. You’re welcome here any time. I mean that sincerely.” I straightened, smiling down at her. “I’m sorry you’re having to do all that planning. Didn’t your friends have families who could help?”

  She sipped her tea, a rosy flush infusing her crepey cheeks. “That’s delicious, Sebille. Tea always tastes so much better when you make it, hon.”

  “Sebille is tea-talented,” I told Mrs. Foxladle with a grin.

  “She certainly is. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she infused each cup with magic.”

  I gave Sebille a look. She waggled her brows at me, mouthing the word, “brandy” and making me choke back a laugh.

  That would do it.

  “In answer to your question, Naida, no. Celia’s son is hiking a mountain somewhere and will be lucky to get back in time for the funeral. Nan’s family is gone. Mei-ling’s family lives in Thailand. They’re much too poor to come, I’m afraid. And Bonnie’s daughter apparently hasn’t spoken to her for years. I’m not even sure how I’d find her to tell her about her death.” She sighed, the lines between her eyes deepening. “I’m finding out that loneliness was probably what made my friends join the book club in the first place.” She smiled sadly. “But I think in the end the books had become just as much their friends as we had.”

  “I’m so glad you ladies found each other.”

  She nodded, glancing up. “You know, Franny and I are continuing the book club. We’re looking for new members. Maybe you and that nice police detective would like to join?”

  I smiled. “Maybe we would. I’ll certainly ask him when I see him again. But whether we join or not, I’d be pleased if you held your meetings here at Croakies. And I can put a flyer out about the meetings if you’d like.”

  “That would be wonderful! I’ll talk to Franny about it when I get home.”

  “Good. I’ll just leave you to your rest then.”

  I headed back up to the front of the store and found Sebille perched on the tall stool behind the sales counter, perusing one of the books she’d brought from the back. I started toward her just as the dividing door between the library and the store opened. Mr. Wicked popped his furry head through and pushed to widen the crack.

  I’d love to know how he managed to open that door by himself. Maybe I could post a camera nearby to catch him in the act.

  My eyes went wide as Hobs bounded through after him, his pointy ears bouncing as he hopped like a frog. The hobgoblin grinned shyly at me, his cheeks pinkening.

  I dropped a hand down by my hip and motioned with my fingers for him to return to the library, but to my horror, he got a mischievous look in his eyes and, in a flash of movement so fast my eyes couldn’t follow, he cut the distance between the door and the first row of shelves and climbed to the top.

  I glared up at him and he waved gaily, disappearing again so quickly I didn’t see where he’d gone.

  Something thumped to the floor a moment later, followed by a soft cry. I gritted my teeth, hoping Hobs wasn’t up to mischief, and hurried back to where I’d left Mrs. Foxladle.

  She was flipping through a paperback, her eyes alight and her smile wide. She looked up when I came around the end of the shelves. “I’ve been looking for this book for weeks. I can’t believe you have a copy here,” she told me, her cheeks pink again.

  I looked up to where Hobs crouched atop the next row of shelves. He winked at me.

  Shaking my head, I sliced a finger across my throat and pointed at him.

  He flashed away again, leaving behind the faintest echo of laughter .

  I hurried toward Sebille. “What are you looking for?”

  She was on the last book of the three. The other two lay open beside her on the counter.

  “Artifacts,” she said softly. “So far, I’ve found these,” She lay the third book down next to the other two and I pulled it close, looking at a picture of a garter. It was black with white lace sewn down the center and a small yellow flower adorning the top.

  “I’m having trouble seeing any of the ladies wearing a garter to book club, let alone sharing one,” I told Sebille.

  “I agree,” Sebille told me. “I think this one has a much better chance of being the right one.”

  It was a small porcelain figurine of a ballerina. The dancer had rosy cheeks and was wearing a soft pink tutu. The flat toes of her pink ballet slippers were attached to a dove-gray-colored base. The ballerina held a long-stemmed red rose in one hand, the glossy petals pressed against her tiny nose. “This one,” I told Sebille. “Older ladies love to collect stuff like this.”

  “That’s what I thought too,” my assistant said. “This one’s also a possibility, but I like the glass doll better.”

  I turned the last book around so I could examine the image. As I placed my hand on the page, the center bubbled, and a figure started to ooze upward out of the book.

  Osvald’s dark head spun around. His gaze found mine, widening in shock, before he pointed his nose toward the book and dove back down, disappearing into the page.

  I looked at Sebille and she shrugged. “I didn’t do anything to him. He did the same thing to me.”

  “You didn’t do anything to him?” I asked, my gaze narrowing. “Why would you say that? I never asked if you had.”

  She pursed her lips, pretending to study the porcelain figurine.

  “Sebille?” I asked again in a sterner tone.

  She lost the battle against a grin. “I might have told him I was going to a book burning tonight and offered to make him nice and toasty around the edges if he didn’t disappear himself.”

  I cleared my throat, looking down so she couldn’t see my lips twitch. Finally, when I thought I had my grin under control, I looked back up. “Bad, Sebille. Very bad.”

  She snorted out a laugh, pointing to the second book. “It says here the figurine was Hebe’s favorite of her collection of porcelain dancers. Apparently, it spins and plays elevator music.”

  “Elevator music? That’s odd. Don’t you mean classical music?”

  “Classical music, elevator music, potato, pototo.” She shrugged again. “It’s the kind that could put you to sleep even with a giant slice of chocolate cake in your hand.”

  “I’d say it’s a safe bet Kat still has the figurine in her possession, probably at the plant since she’s using it there to create her creams.” I had a sudden thought and smiled. Maybe we wouldn’t have to face off with a powerful goddess after all. “We need to sneak inside that plant and search her office.”

  It was no surprise to me when Sebille’s eyes lit up at the prospect. A little breaking and entering was right up Sebille’s alley.

  Emphasis on the breaking part.

  19

  B&E With Spritely Glee

  The parking lot was well-lit, even in the wee hours of the morning. Fortunately for me, I had a Sprite with anger issues and a propensity for break
ing things on my side.

  It took Sebille only a few minutes to buzz around and darken one side of the lot to cover our movement toward the back door Grym and I had used the last time we’d been there. It took her only thirty seconds to open the locks on the door, and it took me only five seconds to trip over the mat on the inside and fall flat on my face.

  Sebille stepped over me, disdain dripping from her like melting ice, and I shoved to my feet with my pink face and skinned knees.

  The illumination in the area consisted of low wattage lighting placed at just above floor level, clearly meant only to keep someone from falling in the dark on the way to the main office.

  Or, at least that had been the idea. I’d always been good at overcoming best-laid plans. Think of me as a prodigy and then multiply that talent by two.

  I carefully avoided Sebille’s gaze and pushed past her, feeling the roll of her eyes like a force in the air.

  May the force be with you. It was certainly with me.

  “Where to?” she asked, clomping up behind me in her ill-fitting red shoes. Sebille had purchased the Wicked Witch of the West lookalike shoes on sale at a bargain shoe store and had insisted she couldn’t live without them despite the fact that the only size they had was a size and a half bigger than Sebille’s feet.

  The office door was unlocked and I pushed on through, drifting past the exterior desk, which I assumed belonged to some kind of assistant or greeter, toward the two doors with rippled glass insets marked with the names of the owner and his daughter, one Katherine Geras.

  I stopped at Kat’s door and listened but didn’t hear anything. “I think we’re good to go,” I stage whispered.

  Sebille nodded, raising her brows. In the low illumination of the night lights, I could clearly make out the impatient expression on her lean, freckled face. Sebille wasn’t built for stealth. She was more a “bustle in and bust ’em up” kind of gal.

  But then, if things went south as they were wont to do when we followed Sebille’s methods, she could always pick up wing and fly away, leaving me earthbound and magic-less to deal with the fallout.

  Well, essentially magic-less anyway. I could make someone pee their pants in a heartbeat. Or frizz their hair to within an inch of its life. But that was pretty much the end of my magic juice unless that someone was an artifact. Then I could kick their artifact butt all over the place.

  I slowly turned the knob and eased the door open. Kat’s office smelled like Lilacs. Her desk was tidy to the point of looking like it had never been used.

  Every item, from the dainty upholstered chairs to the glass and chrome desk, to the dense furry rug that dominated the center of the space, was tidy and perfectly arranged, as if she’d gotten a Master’s degree in Feng Shui and a doctorate in OCD.

  The office was pleasant and attractive, much better suited to a high-priced lawyer’s space than the office of an employee of a cosmetics production company. But it was cold, calculated, and, like the desk, felt as if it had never been used.

  It didn’t take us long to search the place for the artifact. Kat Geras was not the type of person to collect stuff that would collect dust.

  Sebille and I split up and took different halves of the room. When we met in the middle, our hands were empty.

  “Maybe she took it home with her,” Sebille offered, frowning.

  “It’s possible. We’ll need to get her home address. We can break in there in the morning while she’s here at work.”

  Frown disappearing at the idea of more B&E in her near future, Sebille nodded. “Let’s go get ice cream.”

  “Okay, but not at the place with the sign that lures you in. That’s an artifact, I’m sure of it.”

  She shrugged, opening the door to Kat’s office and stepping into the outer office. “So what if it is? It’s not hurting anybody.”

  “Says the woman whose backside is not being referred to as a door stopper,” I responded.

  Cackling at her own joke, Sebille took a step toward the exit and jolted to a stop. I slammed into her back. “Umph!”

  Rubbing my nose, I stepped around her. “Warn a girl if you’re gonna stop…” My words trailed off at the sight of two very large…men…for lack of a better word, standing between us and the door.

  I swallowed a lump in my throat and tried a smile. “Is this the Ladies room?”

  Sebille snorted and I pinched her arm.

  “Ouch!”

  “What were you two doing in the boss’s office?” the larger of the two growled out.

  “Um…” I’d never seen goblins up close and personal, but as I looked into their dark, leathery faces, fierce black eyes, and shark-like double rows of pointy teeth, I decided I could have gone a lifetime without the pleasure.

  There was no hint of the human façade the men no doubt donned when working the assembly lines during the daytime.

  “We had an appointment with her,” Sebille said, slouching casually against the receptionist’s desk and crossing her arms. “She stood us up.”

  The smaller of the two goblins, not really small at all, given that his friend was probably close to seven feet tall and he was only an inch or two shy of that, narrowed his wide, black gaze and pursed scabby looking lips. “She didn’t tell us nothin’ about no meetin’.”

  Sebille grunted, shaking her head. “That’s horrible English. Didn’t they teach you goons nothin’?”

  The two stared at her, looking perplexed for a beat, and then decided to solve their problem with violence. I got the impression that wasn’t a hard decision for them. They probably solved all their problems that way.

  Growling loud enough to make my bladder dance the pee pee dance, the goblins jumped, flying through the air with the greatest of ease.

  When they landed, their fists came crashing down in the spot where we’d been, rattling the teacup and saucer sitting on the desk with the force of the hit.

  Sebille buzzed away, leaving a cackle of glee in her wake, and I scrabbled behind the desk, my knee throbbing where it had hit the chair when I’d jumped out of the way.

  It didn’t take long for them to reset and move, one of them coming after me and one flailing around its head trying to smack a buzzing Sebille out of the air.

  Footsteps pounded toward me, and the chair suddenly flew past, crashing into a potted plant in the corner.

  Green energy flashed across the room as I leaped to my feet and grabbed the first thing I saw on the desk. Infusing my hands with keeper energy to give them speed, I grabbed the long metal object and a sheet of paper and screamed as I was hit with the force of a runaway train.

  I crashed to the floor and grunted as the goblin landed half over me.

  Panicking, I shoved the paper at its face and slammed the stapler against it, putting several staples through the paper as he screeched in rage.

  While he fought to rip the paper away, I shimmied out from under him and headed for the door.

  A big hand grabbed my hair and yanked me to a stop. I yelped in pain, trying to reach the doorknob but missing as he dragged me backward.

  Green energy flared again. The goblin released my hair, screaming and clutching his eyes as he stumbled blindly around the room.

  Sebille popped into full size next to me. “That was fun.”

  I glanced around. “Where’s the other one?”

  She jabbed a finger toward Kat’s office. The goblin was sitting on the floor, leaning against the door, his chin resting on his chest.

  “What did you do to them?”

  “Nothing yet,” she said with a grin. She lifted her hands and shot twin beams of green energy from them. “There. Give me your phone.”

  “My phone? Why?”

  She wiggled her fingers until I handed it over with a sigh. “We need to get out of here. There might be more of them,” I told her.

  She took a picture of the goblin by the door and the one that had fallen next to the desk and then showed me the phone.

  The two men were weari
ng tutus. Pink ones, and had large pink bows resting in the bald spots between their bat-like ears.

  I snorted out a laugh. “Perfect.”

  “Not yet.” Sebille pecked out some commands on my phone and, a moment later, I heard the sound of a message being delivered. She handed the phone back to me. “Now it’s perfect.”

  We got out of there fast. I didn’t ask her where she’d sent the pictures until we were in the car.

  Her response was pure Sebille. “I’m tired of pussyfooting around. It’s time to bring Kat to us.”

  Holy buzzard blisters! “You didn’t!”

  She lifted her finger and blew on it like a gunslinger clearing his weapon.

  The shop was dark except for the Frog-shaped nightlights near the door and behind the sales counter.

  “Tea?” Sebille headed for the tea stuff while I locked the door behind us.

  “Yes! Please?” Weariness slid over me and my stomach growled hopefully. “I don’t suppose you have any more of those tacos?”

  Sebille handed me a steaming cup. It smelled like rosemary and something minty. “Sorry. I can make a run if you want.”

  “No, it’s late. I have bagels and fruit upstairs. Would you like to join me?”

  “Sure.”

  We started toward the stairs. I opened my mouth to ask her where she’d moved her stuff, but Wicked flew down the stairs with a yowl and Hobs slid down the banister behind him, giggling maniacally as he hit the curved part at the bottom and flew through the air, smacking hard against the wall and sliding down, arms and legs splayed like a cartoon character.

  He lay there twitching and I let out a terrified sound of concern. “Hobs!”

  It didn’t take me long to discover he was twitching with laughter. When I turned him over, tears were running down his face. He clutched his belly, his grin wide. “Again!” he suddenly yelled, launching to his oversized feet and flying back up the stairs.

  I turned around and got caught on Sebille’s glare. She stood with her arms crossed, and her bright red eyebrows arcing into her hairline. “Oh, yeah, about that…”