The Riddles of Hillgate (Z&C Mysteries, #1)

by Zoey Kane

  “I know. Mom, do you realize that even those having the sixth sense got creeped out by that? So now, who is left to be patrons of this hotel?”

  “You know, Claire, let’s not worry. Let’s take a break. We’ve been working hard. What say we spend a little money we earned as an actual profit from the hotel, plant our garden grounds even better. So, we will eat well, and just slow-mo catch up on beautifying our property, and actually our home. How would you like a new car?”

  “I will, if you will!” Claire giggled. “But first, I think we should try our keys out. I’m dying to see what is back there. ”

  Both ladies with ponytails stood in front of the long building with small windows. They remembered how this area of the acreage desperately needed the weeds and trees cut back.

  “Since we can see there used to be a nice trail of pavement that ran up to here, and around this building, it must have had importance.” Zo lined up the keys most likely to match the lock. “Nope, not that one.” The keys jingled as she moved them around to try another. Click…“We got a winner!”

  The pair expectantly entered. They immediately saw old tires in a stack with cobwebs, and cans and oil funnels beside them. “It’s a garage! That explains the gigantic doors.”

  Tarps covered three automobiles. “I think, Mom, we are about to uncover another thrilling discovery. Yet, it seems unfair, because we aren’t men. Do you think we should go into town and get a man just for the testosterone thrill that only they can experience?”

  “No, thanks. You take that side, and I’ll take this, and we’ll draw back the tarp together.” As they pulled together, Zo exclaimed, “Look at the size of those tires!”

  “Look at the length of this car. Maybe it’s a sail boat on a trailer?!”

  They lifted the tarp off, dropping it in a heap. “Well, Mom, what is it? It sure is magnificent.”

  It was a grand car of antiquity, painted crème-yellow and gray. It had a brown canvas top that could roll back, making it a convertible.

  “What a beauty! That is real chrome. And have you ever seen a steering wheel that large today? But what is it? Claire, read the name on the grill plate.”

  “Duesenberg?”

  “Yes, now this is luxury. We’ve gone to Heaven! Honey, leather seats, tucked and rolled!”

  “What is the next one?” Claire ran to grab a corner of the canvas. They quickly removed the tarp. “Mannnn! Oh, man!” Her eyes were big with wonder. “Do you think these cars were fast?”

  “I don’t know, but who cares?! What is it? Wait… here it is, a Stutz Bear Cat! Oh, I’m feeling terrible. I know the engines on these cars must be ruined, because they have sat for decades.”

  It was another convertible. It was white with a gold trim. It was a grand car fit for two. Its steering wheel was positioned on a long pole. Its tires were even larger than the Duesenberg’s.

  “What is the next one?”

  Claire laughed. “It is a beauty, too, but it is an old-timer. This must have been a collector item, even for back then. It is a Ford. Standard black paint job.”

  The two stepped back toward the middle to admire their find. “Have you noticed something, sweetie?” asked Zo. “While there is dust and cobwebs on those tires and cans over there, there is no perceivable dust on any of these cars anywhere, not even on the tires; not under the cars, or around the cars. Look! The workbench is even clean.”

  Claire walked over to the bench, surprised. “It really is clean. What is this?” She picked up a can, reading it. “This is recently purchased car wax. The expiration date is next year!” Both of their jaws dropped in astonishment.

  Without explaining, Zo pulled open the door of the Duesenberg, got in, tried one key and then switched to another. The key turned. After looking around the car a moment, she found the starter and pressed it. The car started instantly with a roar, and then idled with a deep-throated purr. She turned it off and joined Claire.

  “Mom, we are not the only ones who have knowledge of these cars. And for that matter, someone must also know everything about Hillgate and us!”

  ELEVEN

  “Now I’m worried. And even scared. We have to act fast! Come on, we are getting out of here and going directly to my car. Try not to be seen by anyone. Look casual and even pleasantly comfortable with the day.”

  “Then what?”

  Once they were driving out of the gate and down the highway, Zo revealed her plan. “In order to be safe in our person, and secure with our property, I am going to get the cars insured and registered to me. Of course, you know, Claire, what is mine is yours; I have a will. But you do not have to wait to receive benefit of my good fortune. We can go get your new car right after I see my insurance agent. Also, since we are not going to have any more guests for a while, I think a couple of big dogs to run the property would be a good idea.”

  That evening, Zo drove up in the same car she departed in, and Claire drove up in a brand new yellow Volkswagen. “I told her to think big,” Zo said to herself, “but she said that she knew this car loved her.”

  Zo didn’t come home empty-handed, though. In her back seat sat two handsome Dobermans. Their muscles were lean, their necks long and their fur sleek. She turned in her seat to address them. “Gunner, Bond… This is your home. Be good boys.” She knew they would be. They were well trained and had cost a pretty penny.

  Claire opened a back door to let out their new security system. The dogs obediently stepped outside and heeled like twin military elites.

  Zo walked over to them. “One of you is going to run the property for us, while the other is going to stay close to the estate.”

  They took the dogs on a tour around the outside of the house. Claire filled buckets with food and water and placed them inside the outbuilding. It was decided the outbuilding would also be where the dogs would find refuge from rain.

  Zo and Claire brought Gunner and Bond inside for a moment, wanting to put the new collars on them. Gunner had a spike collar and Bond had a black bowtie collar. The Dobermans barked in approval. They followed the women as they settled in the kitchen.

  “I think…,” Zo said, “when one has a secret, or a suspicion, or even a treasure, it is always safer if a lot of people know about it. That is why those cars are going on tour with the museum. If I want them home or to even drive one, I can have them after the contract expires in a year. I am glad they are being picked up by experts. I didn’t think they’d be over this evening that fast, though. They can hardly wait to get them for controlled display.”

  “Yes…,” Claire said, not really paying attention. She was pretty exhausted from negotiating and signing papers for her car.

  “I’ve got some grease or tire black or something on my hands. Claire, your knees are reasonably new still. Would you give me a little cleanser from under the sink there? I’m going to try to clean my hands,” Zo said, turning on the water.

  “Hey, Mom?” came a muffled voice from under the kitchen sink. “There is something interesting written on the bottom of the basin here.”

  “What, porcelain white #7126?”

  “No…”

  “Handle with care?”

  “No…”

  “A-1 Hardware?”

  “Nope.”

  “What, thennnn?” sang Zo.

  “Three blind dice!”

  “The mystery is afoot, Claire. What we have to do is figure out what three blind dice could be.”

  “So, you are thinking what I am thinking?” Claire popped her head out. ‘“Sink and ye shall find’ has a connection to this message written on the bottom of the sink?”

  “Yes!”

  “Like riddles? One clue leads to the next if we solve them?”

  “Yes!”

  “What does it lead to?”

  “I don’t know, dear!” Zo’s eyes were wide. “But I want to find out. Don’t you?”

  “Of course.” Claire nodded. “So, all we have to do is figure out the ‘three blind dice’ ri
ddle?”

  “Nooooo, that is not all we have to do. We also have to figure out who has been keeping those cars in excellent condition; who played a carousel; if there was really a ghost with a fireplace pick; if Fanny’s death was an accident; and why THAT MAN IS LOOKING AT US THROUGH THE WINDOW!”

  TWELVE

  “Oh, Mother, that is the man who is coming to see and pick up the cars.”

  “Whew!” Zo went to open the kitchen door. “Claire, there are two other drivers and trailers here. No, five. The insurance people are here as well. Might as well get out the soft drinks, hon.”

  Claire went to watch from the doorway. “Yeah, well, just be careful of the little yellow one out here.” She admired her new car, saying to it, “Don’t talk to strangers, honey!”

  After all was said and done, the evening was especially quiet for them, except for another storm brewing with winds beginning to whistle and howl. The ladies felt scared to be alone in that huge ol’ mansion. Even though they made sure every window was locked or double locked. Even though they also brought home two Dobermans. Gunner and Bond were sure to find refuge from the rain in the outbuilding, but Claire and Zo called them into the house instead. All the hotel helpers had been paid and laid off until further notice, and the mother and daughter were now standing around in large spaces, alone except for bottom-teeth smiles from their doggies.

  “Why don’t we call somebody to come and spend the night with us? Shall we give a come-as-you-are party?” suggested Claire. “I wish I had Dracula’s phone number.”

  “How do you know Lucas is not the bad guy? If there is a bad guy and not just a series of coincidences with practical reasons,” replied Zo.

  The wind increased, causing the trees to scratch at the windows. “I think, darling,” Zo continued, “that we better get big flashlights and lots of batteries.”

  “Okay, but we are not going in different directions whatsoever tonight. We are always together. Promise!”

  “I promise, and I feel the same way. What if we call for a pizza delivery, and then keep the pizza guy?”

  “Because, the pizza delivery guy might actually be the crazed bad guy, who paid the delivery man for the pizza and his hat—or killed him and took the hat—and then came to deliver the pizza to us. We can’t chance it.”

  “Claire, I specifically told you that you may not watch rated R movies! I do not plan on sleeping tonight. I am going to keep watch on every corner of this house.”

  “So, Mom, you are telling me you are walking down long hallways and going in dark rooms? Why don’t you just say we should go play in the basement, or visit the attic?”

  “No. I am turning on every light in this mansion!”

  Just then, something made a loud thud above the ceiling. “What is over us, Claire?”

  “I think it’s the servants’ quarters.” They put the dogs on blankets in the foyer, a strategic place in the middle of the house so if alerted they could run and bark in either direction.

  The two ladies ran up to their room and picked up their flashlights. They turned the lights on room to room, as they headed down the hall, investigating. Just as they were about to enter room number ten, all the lights went out. On went the flashlights!

  “Well, isn’t that just lovely?!” exclaimed Zo. “I’m going into that room, and anybody who isn’t you, Claire, is going to get beat up by me!” She opened the door, and entered the room like a heat seeking missile. “No one here! Blast! I’m ready for the fight! Bring it ON!”

  “You can calm down, Mom. Nobody here.”

  “Are you sure?” Zo darted her flashlight around the room. “This room sure has made a reputation for itself.”

  Claire did spot something out of the ordinary. A closet door was slightly open and something was hanging from inside. “Look, Mother, over here.” Claire went over to the closet, opening the door wide.

  They both shined their flashlights inside. Part of a ladder hung down, slightly swaying, made of rope.

  “Should we climb it?” Zo whispered.

  “Follow me up, Mom.”

  “How about you pop your head up there first and tell me what you see?”

  Claire huffed.

  Zo added, “You know I’m not good with ropes or trapezes or anything of that nature.”

  “All right.”

  “Be careful, dearest.” Zo hesitated. Maybe it’s not such a good idea to let your only daughter go into a creepy attic alone at night, her conscience warned. “What do you see?”

  Claire climbed enough just to see inside. The temperature instantly dropped a few degrees, just by that small distance. The rain beat hard on the roof, sounding as if she were in a drum. She shined her light in the space. She followed the glow of the flashlight’s ray along the walls. The attic was bigger than she expected. There was no sign of anyone in there, so she decided to pull herself all the way up and inside.

  “Are you all right?” Zo called, afraid.

  “Just come up here. You’ll be surprised,” Claire said.

  “Is that a good thing?” Zo asked rhetorically. She decided to try her legs on the rope ladder and did much better than she thought. “Good news, Claire: I didn’t get tangled in it.”

  She pulled herself up and into the cold attic. “Boy, the thunderclaps sound twenty thousand times louder up here, huh?”

  “Yes, Mom,” Claire said, busily running her fingers along a wall, her eyes intently searching.

  “What is it?”

  “Flash your light over here.”

  They scrutinized the display on the wall. “Newspapers?” Zo said. “For insulation perhaps?”

  “No, Mother. Look closer, read it.”

  She glanced at some papers and her eyes stopped and zeroed in. “They are all the same article. The front page news.”

  “Yes, of the same old newspaper you had in that trunk…”

  “About the fire…,” Zo finished. “Do you suppose it means something?”

  “Of course, Mother. No normal human being would have such an excess of the same issue of the paper, unless they worked for the paper, and decided to recycle the overruns.”

  “Ah… I see…”

  “This person was obsessed with the fire of 1927.”

  “A pyro,” Zo noted.

  Their attention centered on finding any other clues to their odd discovery. There was a small cot in one corner, a sleeping bag, a collection of canned foods with a can opener, and even a microwave. Their final discovery, laying under the cot, was… a fireplace pick!

  THIRTEEN

  They gasped silently and hurried back down into room ten and went into the hall, flashlight beams leading the way.

  “Someone resided, or is residing, in that attic.” Zo stated the obvious.

  It didn’t take the mother and daughter more than a couple steps down the narrow east wing hall to notice something strange about the west wing. Down at the end of that wide hall, light sifted out of the master bedroom’s door, onto the floorboards.

  “What’s that?” Claire whispered, frightened. “Did you leave the light on?”

  “Light on? Honey, I thought the lights were out.” Zo opened room four’s door slowly and quietly and flipped the light switch. Nothing. No light. The two of them continued like that down the rest of the east wing, chills fingering up and down their backs.

  “Do you have your cell phone, Claire? Call the police.”

  “Yes…” She tried. “Nothing but static. Do you have your colt .45?”

  “Yes, under the bed in that room.”

  “Oh, great!” she hoarsely whispered. “That will do us good, being in there.”

  “Daughter, remember there is a whole case full of guns in Mr. Fillmore’s room, if you would like to join me in there.”

  “What if we just hide under a bed?”

  “We can’t run from it. Eyes might be on us right now.”

  They quietly entered Mr. Fillmore’s room, without even trying the light switch. They went over
to the gun room door, opening it quietly, so they could retrieve a gun from the case. Zo’s hands trembled as she tried to choose the right weapon.

  “Hurry!” Claire urged.

  “These guns are flintlocks. Who would know how to load them? And these others, I don’t know how to use either. We are out of luck.”

  “I need protection, Mother.”

  Those words scared Zo the most. Her grown daughter was asking her for protection.

  They quietly fumbled through Mr. Fillmore’s drawers. Claire soon felt a razor for soaping and shaving coarse beards. “This will work for me. And here, Mother, a sharp pair of scissors.”

  “I’m going to have nightmares of barber shops tonight,” Zo said. “I’m sorry, honey, that I got you into this mess!”

  “Mother, it is not your fault. But this person who knows we’re here must have more control than we could imagine.”

  Armed with their tools, the women proceeded to cross over to Mrs. Fillmore’s—the room which cast that eerie yellow light around and under the doorframe.

  They were arm-in-arm as Claire turned the icy knob. They instantly recognized the source of the light—a few candles on a little dresser in the corner. Zo looked up, down, and all around the room, clenching those scissors. The howling wind whipped outside, creating a draft that caused the silk curtains to sway.

  They went over to the little dresser, lured by the tall, red, drippy candles in ornate candlesticks. Their wicks glowed in front of a decorative oval mirror. The refection of the candles’ fire danced, broken by smudges on the mirror from what looked like lipstick… or was it blood? It read, in crooked handwriting: FIND MORE CLUES! FIND MORE CLUES!

  “Let’s get out of here,” Zo said. “I’m done with this.”

  “Mother, you said it first. That we can’t run or hide. Whoever it is must know our every move,” she whispered more discretely than even before. “We are miles away from the other side of Riverside. Besides, we are not the only ones that might have automobiles. There are new surprises here by the hour and minute. I suggest we just figure out the clues and hopefully be set free.”