by Zoey Kane
Worried about the heated confrontation, Garrett ducked a little lower to be more discreet. He inhaled the wormy scent of the ditch’s wall. It seemed things could get physical soon.
“Mr. Mervel,” the young man called Bobby replied, “that’s why I’m back. To show you I am worthy. I brought with me a dowry of sorts. Something of great worth. It’s in my car.” He motioned to the automobile parked on the drive near the road.
Mr. Mervel paused. “I’m not saying it’s going to change my mind, but what is it? Show it to me.”
Bobby nodded in excitement. “Okay, thank you.” The two men were silent as their heavy-soled black shoes approached the car.
The sun was quickly setting. Darkness enveloped the scene. Bobby opened the passenger-side door and pulled out something rectangular from a satchel. It was flat and reflected the moon’s light. Conversation became tempered, quiet. It was hard to make out words. Garrett tried in vain to listen in on the clipped sentences.
“I’ve never heard…” was followed by, “…Sure this is that much?”
The young man nodded. The two men’s silhouettes headed together back to the house. They entered, the older gentleman patting Bobby’s shoulder.
Back to the present:
“As I was about to ride away on my bike, I heard the gunshots. Three of them. BANG. BANG. BANG.”
The short officer’s eyes were wide. “Did you ever tell anybody?”
“Yeah, I told my ma right when I got home. She just told me not to meddle, that it wasn’t any of our business. By the time I became a young man myself, interested in law enforcement, Mr. Mervel had already passed away. What can you do?” He sighed, shaking his head.
“I’ve heard lots of rumors about him, for sure, but nothing as crazy as that. Definitely a psychopath.”
A sudden supernatural breeze encompassed them, before a heavy tapestry came tumbling down from the wall. It clapped over their bodies, dropping them to the ground. The men were beating it off them just as the Kanes entered the great room, lugging their suitcases. The ladies quickly set their stuff down and sprinted over.
“My goodness, are you okay?” Zoey asked. She pulled back some of the heavy, dusty fabric, and Claire helped.
The men grabbed their flashlights and stood back up. The older one rubbed his knees and stretched his back, his eyes bewildered. “Yeah, we’re fine. We’re fine.”
“If I didn’t know any better,” the other said, “I woulda thought Mr. Mervel had done that.”
Claire dragged the tapestry further away into a heap. “What do you mean?” she asked and sneezed.
“It was just the timing and all was strange…”
The now aged Garrett explained, “I was telling my partner here about something wild I witnessed as a young boy at this house.”
“Would it be something we’d be interested in knowing about?” Claire ventured, her eyes big and curious. “We’re private detectives hired by the Mervel family to try and solve the case of Mavis’s strange disappearance and death.”
“But this happened years ago, when I was much younger than you,” Garrett said.
Zoey smiled. “Try us. We’ve been digging all the way back to the early fifties for answers.”
After repeating the story, everyone was finally ushered out of the house. They proceeded to their separate vehicles. Mr. Werner came up to the Kanes as they carried their luggage to their trunk.
“Here, let me help you with that,” he said.
“Thank you,” Zoey said and popped the trunk open.
As he hefted the first suitcase inside, he asked with a hushed tone, “So, did you find anything out about Gavier?”
Zoey eyed the Constipaleons entering their black Cadillac. Gavier opened a back door to let in Bonbon. “Yes, we found a gun,” she said.
“With an empty chamber,” Claire added, hands on her hips.
“Interesting,” the lawyer said, lifting the last suitcase. He slid it in on top of the others and shut the trunk. “And you didn’t find any ammo anywhere else?”
“No,” Zoey said, “and we scoured everywhere.”
Mr. Werner put out a hand to shake theirs. “Well, it was nice meeting you two. Sorry for the fun being cut short. I guess I ought to forget about overseeing a race for the mystery inheritance, and get to work on something more productive. Like meeting up with a realtor to sell this lot.”
“Is the house really going to get torn down?” Claire asked with concern. “I know it has issues with being up to code, and is a hazard, but it’s just so beautiful.”
“I’m afraid so.” He crossed his arms in his khaki overcoat and stared at it. “It’d take way too much money to rehabilitate. You have to admit, it’s quite dilapidated all throughout.”
“Yes, it is,” Zoey said, trying to envision it when it was brand new.
“Well, have a safe trip back,” he said and headed for his Mercedes parked in front of a food truck—Jeb’s.
Everyone took off, with a mixture of somber and disappointed expressions. Valery Dabberline sat parked at the sidewalk across the street, watching the great exodus with a prideful smile.
The police officers were the last to enter their vehicle. They were surprised to find an older woman with dark hair and blue lips sitting in the backseat. A stack of wooden legs were propped to one side of her, and on the other was what appeared to be a body wrapped in a sheet. It was like something straight out of The Addam’s Family.
The officers screamed. It wasn’t certain if one screamed first, causing the other to startle, or if they were both shocked at the same time to see such a dark and evil sight. But short and tubby pulled a gun on Theona.
Theona had a hard time explaining everything fast. Her accent made things eerily worse, but she promised she had answers. The officers headed straight for the police station with it all. They wanted others as witnesses—and protection.
FIFTEEN
The rain stopped. Not even a light drizzle dampened the air. Claire turned off the wipers that screeched across the windshield. She reluctantly drove out of Sunnyside View’s development. She and her mother both had a lot on their minds. They were finally starting to make progress. Gavier was a prime suspect. Robert had been murdered by Mavis’s father. But like the rain, everything came to a sudden halt. Were they supposed to just stop solving the mystery?
“I’m super bummed right now,” Claire said. She flicked on her blinker and turned out onto the main road.
Zoey sat with an old red diary propped open on her lap. She flipped through, page by page. “So am I,” she said, distractedly. “Who knew we’d miss getting spooked?”
“That’s not what I mean,” Claire said. “My curiosity is killing me. I really want to know what happened to Robert’s body. Who killed Mavis? And where in the house is her body?”
“Don’t forget the treasure,” Zoey said. She, herself, would never forget about treasure.
“Yeah, the place is going to be demolished, so that’s really too bad. It will never be found.” Claire sat straighter in her seat, holding the steering wheel with both hands. “By the way,” she said, glancing at the diary, “finding that interesting?”
“Yes, I am.” Zoey pursed her pink lip-glossed lips. “This relays Mavis’s inner thoughts from the time of her courtship with Robert to about a year after his murder.”
Claire raised her eyebrows. “We’ve got a long drive. Might as well read some of it to me.”
Liking the idea, Zoey said, “We can make it into a road trip game.” She smiled. “Pick a page number between 1 and 126.”
“55.”
“78, you say?”
“No.” Claire shot a glance at her mother. “55.”
Zoey looked at her daughter with a knowing twinkle in her eye. “No, you really want me to read 78.”
“Fine,” Claire huffed. “If you really wanted to read 78, why were you making it into a game? Anyway, I’m listening intently.”
“I am falling into a deeper and de
eper depression,” Zoey read. “The minutes feel like hours and the hours feel like days. Time drags on while my heart is constantly squeezed in pain. Father tells me I need to move on, but I can’t. My thoughts are consumed by Robert. I can hardly get out of bed. I think of April 7th and how it was supposed to be. I think of me in my dress, and him in his suit. We exchange vows and we kiss. I become Mrs. Mavis Fitsgerald.
“Reality sets in. Robert has left me. Father brought me a telegram as proof. I cry endlessly. I hate reality. I don’t want to believe in reality. All I want to do is dream. In my dreams we are married. Trouble is, sleep eludes me. I chase after it, and it runs.
“Nothing is the same. Everything is tainted by my eternal sadness. I used to love this estate. Before she died, mother designed it. Now, when I leave my bedroom and walk the halls, I smell death. A putrid permeating scent, which gags. It’s not my mother I smell, for she is buried at the cemetery. It’s Robert.”
Stopping at a red light, Claire wrinkled her brow in thought. “She smells Robert? She knows he’s dead?”
Zoey flipped to the next page with a glistening fingernail, and said, “No, I think she knows she’s going a little nuts. Here’s what it says on the next page: The smell is fading, the smell of death. I will not give in to my fearful subconscious. It wants me to think of Robert as dead, perhaps to take away the pain. It’s telling me that in time my love for Robert will fade, and I will love somebody new. I will not!”
“Several pages later it reads,” Zoey skipped ahead, “The subconscious is a strange thing. Now that the smell has basically left, my nose still plays tricks on me. I don’t smell him at the piano, like I’d expect. No, I smell whispers of him by the elevator that Father had boarded up so that we’d get more exercise. Father thinks it will be good for us to have exercise. I used to love running. Now, exercise is the last thing on my mind.”
Claire turned into a gas station and parked at a pump. Before taking off her seatbelt to exit, she said, “Makes me think of how Gavier said she slipped into psychosis, smelling things. Remember that?”
“Yes,” Zoey said, her light brown eyes scanning the next page. “Listen to this. She says, Sometimes, in the wee hours of the night, just when sleep is finally lulling my senses, I hear him.”
“Makes me wonder,” Claire said, “how much was psychosis and how much was actually reality?”
“Exactly, dear daughter,” her mother replied. “Once you’re done pumping gas, turn and head back toward Aunt Mavis’s mansion.”
“If Valery or the police see us—”
“They won’t. We’re going to first shop around this main street until it’s dark out. Maybe we can hit up a buffet for dinner. I saw a Chinese one on the way.”
“And what will we be shopping for, dear mother?” Claire asked as if she already knew, a hint of worry in her tone.
“The usual.” Zoey innocently shrugged. “Just some waterproof mascara, bottled water, and maybe a couple of axes. Oh, and aren’t you still needing bobby pins?”
*
Their bellies full of all-you-can-eat wonton soup and crab legs, the Kanes were off again in Zoey’s Lexus. Bags from the hardware store sat nestled on the backseat’s floor, a couple of axe handles poking out from them. Pulling up to Sunnyside View’s subdivision, Zoey turned off the headlights and waited.
“How are we going to get past the HOA president?” Claire asked, imagining getting arrested for the second time in her life. The first time was also due to her mother’s bad influence.
“Already taken care of.” Zoey raised her eyebrows up and down.
*
Penny crouched amidst bushes along Shadyside Street, B.B. beside her. They both sported shades and black hoodies as they peered over at a maroon sedan, which had been parked there for hours now, across from the mansion. Inside that car, Valery appeared to be asleep. Was that a line of drool spilling to her chest?
Penny nudged her friend. “Get closer to see if she’s indeed asleep.”
“Why do I have to?” B.B. countered.
“You’re short. You can creep along easier.”
Her friend blew out a heavy sigh in resignation. “Fine.”
“Why’d you bring your purse?” Penny scolded, eyeing what could’ve passed as a tote.
“Habit,” B.B. said with a shrug.
“Just… hurry up. Go.”
Penny stayed hidden in her spying spot as B.B. slowly headed for the car, crouching as she went. Upon reaching the back bumper, she paused in nervousness and took a deep breath.
A skinny hand poked out from Penny’s bush, shooing B.B. to continue.
Obeying, B.B. headed for the passenger side of the sedan in order to peek inside as discreetly as possible. An especially deep rut in the worn pavement suddenly sent her sprawling. B.B. hit a window with a smack. The car alarm blared, tattling on her.
Valery’s eyes popped open and she sprang up in her seat. Penny took off running, looking like a wild buzzard. Panicking, B.B. dropped to the road, eyes flashing around. She thought of creeping back around the car, hoping to get out of sight.
The alarm turned off. The sound of the driver’s side door creaking open made B.B. freeze in further fear. The HOA president called out, “Who’s there?” with a threatening tone.
B.B. pulled back her hoodie and tucked her sunglasses inside her large purse. She slowly stood up. Valery shut her door and retracted the passenger-side window. “Who are you?” she asked. “What are you doing here?”
Thinking fast, B.B. pulled a chicken potholder out from her purse and waved it lightly in the air. “I dropped this,” she said with a forced smile.
“What is that?” Valery asked.
“It’s my… potholder?” B.B. said with scared uncertainty.
“What’re you doing with a potholder in the middle of the street? Do you have all your marbles?”
“I s-sew these for fun,” the short, big-bottomed woman stammered. “It fell out of my purse while I was walking.”
Valery looked her over with narrowed, keen eyes. “You still haven’t told me who you are. And why are you on this road, across from this dump that tries passing itself off as a Victorian mansion?”
“I’m a concerned citizen,” B.B. said with sudden confidence, straightening her posture. “Yes, that’s what I am. That mansion is a dump. And it’s super spooky, haunted by evil. And-and I hate it!”
A smile crept on Valery’s face as she shifted toward B.B. in her seat. Her gray curls were illuminated white in the moonlight, and she had a crazed look to her eyes. “Yes! I completely agree! Finally, someone who has the same sense as me. Just a couple more days before this place is going to meet its death by wrecking ball! And I am going to be so happy to see it go down!”
B.B. nodded emphatically. “So am I. It is going to go down!” she said like a WWE wrestler. A part of her totally agreed with the uppity woman. She was ready for the dare to be done, to go home and never see that place ever again.
“You sew potholders?” Valery inquired with more interest.
“Yes, yes I do.” B.B. slowly offered her latest creation through the open window.
Valery eyed it closely, touching along its stitching. She tried it on and flapped her thumb. “This is so darn cool.” She looked up. “What’s your name? Which neighbor are you?”
B.B. had to think. “Well, I don’t live here… yet. I’m from the other side of town. But I’m interested in Sunnyside View’s subdivision. You and your neighbors do an amazing job at its upkeep. Your yards and your color schemes are picture perfect.”
Touching her curls in a gesture of humility, Valery said, “Why, thank you. It’s all because of me, you know. I am the president of the HOA.”
“Shut up!” B.B. acted like it was the first time she’d heard such info. “That is so cool. Hey, what are you doing tonight? Do you have any plans?” B.B. not only asked this to create a brilliant diversion from her friend’s plans, but she was truly interested in a fun night out. Penny w
ould surely still award money, thinking it was all part of an amazing strategy that saved the night.
Valery said, “I was just doing my neighborly duty as president, to make sure no more lowlifes were messing around in that condemned eyesore.” Her eyes wandered over to the mansion. “But it looks like the good folks from the sheriff’s department have done their job. So, as a matter of fact, I do have some time.” Her face lit up. “What were you thinking? A craft night? We can exchange sewing patterns. I do dish towels.”
B.B. smiled. That wouldn’t be good enough. She had to get Valery completely away from the neighborhood, lest she find even five minutes to step away and snoop. “That sounds like so much fun,” she replied, “but maybe there’s somewhere we can go out on the town. Have you eaten? Are you single? It’s been a long time since I’ve done something interesting,” she said, recalling Uncle Spike’s words. “Maybe you know of a dance or potluck?”
Valery reached over and opened the door a crack. She smiled big. “Come on! I know just the place.”
Penny watched from behind a wild, scraggly bush as her friend entered Valery’s car and then got whisked away. Her mouth dropped open. “Oh my gosh,” she said.
A moment later, a text beeped and Penny checked her phone. It was from B.B. It read, “I’ve got her distracted for hours. Do your thing.”
SIXTEEN
Zoey and Claire were becoming antsy. A call rang through to Mobile Link, their car’s app system that had Bluetooth capabilities. Zoey pressed the Answer button that lit up on the dash’s screen. Penny’s fast, worried voice came through the speakers. “Valery is going to be driving right by you guys. Be discreet. She’s gone for the night with B.B.”
The burgundy sedan soon appeared, stopping at the exit. The Kanes were by the entrance, quietly parked. Surprisingly, Valery didn’t look in their direction. Zoey kept the headlights off as she brought her Lexus to life, and they rolled into the neighborhood. They still had to be careful. Who knew how many other busybodies there could be?
They soon parked under the vine covered porte cochère that doubled as camouflage. Penny pounced out from the darkness at them, knocking on Zoey’s window in excitement. She happily flashed them a key that’d unlock the front door.
