by Zoey Kane
The Kanes entered with excitement, each carrying a bag from the home-improvement store. Penny lit the place with her powerful LED flashlight. Their footsteps creaked along the desolate mansion’s main floor. It was as cold as ever.
“So where’s the elevator?” Zoey asked, eyeing the vast walls on either side of the staircase.
Rubbing her skinny hands together in anticipation, Penny said, “I don’t know.”
The mother and daughter gave differing looks of disappointment. Claire said, “What are we supposed to do? Hack down all the walls until we find it? I don’t think we have the time or strength for that.”
Shaking her head, Zoey said, “No, I wouldn’t want to do that anyway. This house has already seen enough destruction.”
“But,” Claire countered, “if this place is getting torn down anyway, what does it really matter?”
“I’ve got it!” Penny burst out. “Let’s knock along the walls, and wherever sounds most hollow, is probably where it’s at.”
That seemed reasonable. The ladies spread out, knocking along the walls and listening for echoes. Strangely, they did hear echoes, but they were coming from high up, on another level. Somebody was having fun playing a copycat game.
“Mavis,” Penny stated dryly.
The Kanes nodded and resumed knocking.
Something shattered in the kitchen, making them pause in fear. A couple of people were heard arguing. The ladies crept together to peek in at the mystery scene. Inside were two shadowy silhouettes, one taller than the other.
“Just watch your step, woman,” said a masculine voice.
“How can I in this dark?” an old lady’s voice responded. “Where are you taking me? Who are you?”
“I told you a million times,” the man grumbled. “We’re back at Mavis’s to find the treasure.”
Penny stepped forward, shining her light on the two. “Aunt Aloise and Spike?”
Spike’s face perked up with astonishment. He covered the blinding light from his eyes. “Drats, we’re not the only ones here.”
The Kanes stepped forward, shining their cell phones.
“Great, how many of you are there?” Spike asked with a grumble.
“I thought you don’t believe in the treasure anymore,” Penny said airily.
“I don’t know what to believe,” he said, “but I didn’t come here all the way from California to go home early. I’m not a quitter.”
“Fine,” Penny said. “Well, we’re not looking for treasure anymore anyway. We’ve come back to exhume the body of Robert Fitsgerald.”
Spike blinked in confused surprise. Aloise’s pale blue eyes lit up with recognition. “Oh, Bobby,” she said. “Bobby Fitsgerald.”
“Yes, Auntie. Do either of you remember where the elevator shaft is at?”
Moments later, they all stood before a wall that ran along the dining room. The elevator had been seamlessly boarded up and wallpapered over. Wearing dust masks, the Kanes took turns hacking away with their axes. Wood cracked and splintered loudly until they took a break to relax their shoulder muscles.
“You say Everett not only killed Robert, but stole something of his of great value?” Spike said, kicking debris away from the wall.
“Yes,” Claire answered.
“Well then, folks, it might not just be Robert we stumble upon. Could be treasure.”
Everyone looked at each other with wide eyes. “Yes,” Penny said with wonder. “That’s true. We might’ve found it all.”
“Does this mean,” Spike asked, “we will split it?”
The Kanes watched the interaction in interest.
“Yes,” Penny said, slowly nodding. “I suppose it does.”
Spike took Claire’s axe and started thrashing at the wall with greater determination. Everyone waited in anticipation, even Aloise, who seemed to understand the circumstances. An icy, supernatural breeze suddenly swirled around the group, leaving goosebumps in its path.
Spike’s work paused as he flashed his eyes around in fear. “What was that?” he asked.
“Mavis,” Zoey said, rubbing her arms.
“Well, remember what Porsha said,” Penny reminded them. “She said ghosts can’t kill you. There’s nothing to fear.”
Just then came the loud crashing sound of broken glass from a nearby window. Everyone screamed. A dark-haired woman came into view, stepping over the sill’s shards.
“What the…?” Spike said, his jaw dropping.
It was Porsha. She approached, crunching glass beneath her black Doc Martens as she went. “Well, well… Looks like I’m late to the party,” she said.
“You just had to break the window, huh?” Penny said with disapproval.
Porsha slowly crossed her arms in disdain. “Some of us don’t have keys, cousin. Besides, this place is getting torn down.” Her eyes slid across the great destruction in the wall. She said, “Looks like you’re starting the process now. What’s going on? Have you found the treasure?”
“If we did, you’re not in on it,” Penny said, pivoting a high heel with attitude.
“Well,” Porsha smoothed her hair over a shoulder coolly, “let’s see how lucky you are.”
Spike lifted the axe to make a great blow, when another loud and sudden sound struck the group with fear. A wooden leg clattered against the floor and landed at Porsha’s feet.
Theona appeared through the broken window. “Excuse me,” she said. “I didn’t mean to throw it zhat far. Can somebody please help me inside?”
“Not another person!” Spike yelled! “The treasure isn’t for anybody but me and Penny. We found it.”
Penny hesitantly said, “We can’t yet say for sure that we found it.”
Zoey hurried over to help Theona inside. The old woman hobbled and hopped on one leg until she reached the wooden one. She secured it into her nub with a strange suction and pop sound.
“I don’t care about zhe treasure,” Theona said. “I simply came back to pack up mementos of Madame Mervel.”
Penny pressed her hands over her blazer with an expression of awe. “How honorable,” she said. “At least somebody here isn’t greedy.”
Knowing the remark was to her, Porsha rolled her dark eyes. “You can’t blame me for not feeling a connection to the crazy woman. She never did reach out to me, always caring only about herself.”
Theona’s blue lips pressed together into a line. “She invited you on multiple occasions, Ms. Porsha. You declined almost every time. Ms. Penny accepted almost every offer.”
“Oh, all right! You’ve made your point,” Porsha said. “I never liked Aunt Mavis. There! She was too kooky.”
“Enough of your disrespecting the dead,” Penny said, putting her hands up in hot disapproval. “Right now, I ask that everybody behaves with respect. We’re about to find out if Mavis’s long lost love, who supposedly jilted her at the altar, was actually murdered and left in the elevator shaft.” She motioned at the wall.
Everyone instantly became quiet. Aloise clasped her wrinkled hands together, drawing them to her mouth. The group stepped back as Spike hacked at the wall, fast and hard, bringing into view what was indeed an antique elevator. Flashlights beamed in at it. They found what the Kanes had suspected was lying there for decades.
Spike brushed away debris with his boots and unlatched the elevator door. He swung it open, revealing, in full view, the remains of Robert Fitsgerald, his shattered skull gleaming up at them.
The ghostly sound of weeping echoed across the mansion, filling it with utter despair.
SEVENTEEN
“Mavis now knows,” Claire said to her mother, holding her slender arms close to her chest in concern.
Zoey nodded. “Such a tragedy.”
The others were silent, taking it all in. Mavis continued weeping. Claire looked up at the high ceiling, as if making a connection with the ghost. “Mavis,” she said aloud, her brown eyes full of compassion. The weeping stopped for a moment. Claire continued. “Robert loved yo
u. He still loves you. Can you hear me?” There was silence.
A misty dark apparition appeared, descending from the dome skylight, baring the face of Everett Mervel. Everyone grabbed a hold of each other in fear, except for Theona. Aloise’s pale blue eyes went wide. “Papa?” she said, scared.
Everett’s eyes turned to flame as he dove down at them in fury. Theona lifted multi-colored crystals in the palms of her hands. “No!” she called out. “Leave us alone!”
At the same time, the Kanes said prayers in their hearts to the maker of all spirits. Their eyes squeezed shut and their lips moved in concentration. The dark mist swooped over the group with the iciness of a bitter blizzard and disappeared.
Zoey and Claire hugged each other. “Is it over, Mom?”
Everyone dared to gaze back up at the dome, releasing one another. There was just the usual moonlight, still trying to beam through the mask of dirt in vain. “Yes, it’s over,” Zoey replied. “For now.”
Theona still held the crystals high up. “Zhat Everett is a dummkopf,” she said.
“It sounds like you’ve dealt with him before,” Zoey said, eyeing the determined old woman. “Not just when he was living, I mean.”
“Yes,” she said, eyes fixed upward. “He manifests in an icy wind.”
The Kanes thought about the time Mr. Proctor was found dead in his bed. There had been an icy chill in his room, much colder than the rest of the house. Then there was the time when the plate was hurled at Porsha. The chill was there too. And they couldn’t forget about when the tapestry had fallen on the officers.
Porsha slowly nodded. “Now I understand your fascination with crystals. Some think they’re magical. Certain ones are supposed to be for protection.”
“Yes,” Theona said, putting them back in her apron’s pockets.
“Has Mavis ever been an angry ghost?” Claire ventured.
“No, not zhat I’ve experienced, Madame.”
Spike ran a hand over his long gray hair in wonder. “I believe in ghosts now,” he said, quickly turning grumpy. “Everybody happy now?!”
Zoey stepped closer to the elevator and knelt down beside Robert’s remains. His bones were in a dress shirt and slacks. She slowly reached a hand in and patted his pockets.
“Ew, what are you doing, Zo?” Penny asked, towering over her in disgust.
“I’m just looking to see if the treasure is around here.”
“No, it’s not,” Claire quickly assessed. “Remember Officer Garrett’s eye witness account?”
Zoey stood back up. “Oh, that’s right. It was something flat, rectangular and reflected the moonlight.”
“Yes,” Claire said, tucking dark hair behind her ears in thought. “What would that be?”
Everyone looked at each other with a sudden realization. They shouted, “A picture!”
“Where are they?” Spike asked, hurrying over to the seating arrangement beside the fireplace. “Where are those pictures you found?”
The Kanes hurried over to look, too. “Finders keepers,” Porsha said, racing over. But they were nowhere to be found.
Penny looked under the seats with her bright flashlight. “They’re gone.” She stood and wiped auburn hair away from her face in a panic.
The medium poked at the air toward the Kanes. “You two have them somewhere. Where did you put them? Where are they hiding?”
The mother and daughter stepped closer to each other in defense. “We don’t have them,” Claire said.
“We don’t know where they went,” Zoey added.
Not believing them, Porsha walked right up to Zoey with an intimidating swagger in her hips. “I remember your expensive list of… how did you put it? ‘What you like to do, not always what you get to do.’ You wanted the treasure for yourself.”
Penny slid in-between the accusing finger and Zoey’s chest. “They wouldn’t have stolen it, cousin.”
“Oh, really?” The medium snarled her red lips. “What makes you so naive all of a sudden?”
Spike drew his machete from its sheath.
*
In the dim light of a local dive bar, the back of a man clad in leather seemed vaguely familiar… He was grabbing an acoustic guitar out of its case. B.B. recognized him as soon as he turned around. It was the handsome chef, Jeb. A few of the lady patrons cast glances at him in discrete interest. He sat on a stool and held the microphone close to his mouth. “Good evening, everyone,” he said with a rich, smooth voice.
All ears intently listened.
“I’m honored to be the first singer for the open mic contest.” Like any true musician, he started off by a personal story to relate to the crowd. “Today was a rough day. Because of circumstances completely out of my control, I got let go from my first gig as a chef since being on the TV show Chopped.”
“Awww,” the chorus of ladies responded.
“I know. Well, life happens. Right?” Jeb gave a humble smile. “This song is dedicated to those ladies who’ve also had a rough day. Think of these words being sung straight to your heart. I hope you will enjoy.”
“Woo!” ladies called out in approval, including B.B.
“I recognize him,” Valery said, shaking her head in disapproval. “He was one of the scum that the cops escorted out of the condemned dump.”
B.B. played dumb. “He was? Isn’t he so handsome, though?” She gazed dreamily from their pub table, resting her chin in the palm of her hand.
“If you like that kinda look, I suppose,” Valery said reluctantly. She downed her alcoholic beverage and called the waitress over for another.
Jeb’s eyes closed in passion as his fingers played the first chords of a rock ballad. B.B. sighed into the beauty of it. Then he opened his mouth, his beautiful mouth, and surprised the room. “It’s like heaven in your eyes” was sung like a cat getting strangled.
B.B. retracted her neck in shock, internally cringing. Valery covered her mouth, holding in a laugh.
“I want to stay lost in your eyes,” he continued, taking it to an off-tune higher pitch.
While the ladies of the room were staying politely quiet, some of the men started booing and throwing things, like crumpled napkins and straws, at his head. Determined, Jeb’s forehead creased with deeper passion. He stood and thrummed the guitar strings as if in love with them. “All the secrets locked in your heart are in those eyes…” The cat was now totally tangled in his vocal cords, as if screeching for help.
A couple of women joined in on beaning things at his head. A red swizzle stick hit his brow. Jeb blinked in anger. “Okay, okay!” he shouted. “But this is the last time any of you will ever get to hear me play here again!”
“Yay!” the crowd cheered, including Valery.
He angrily grabbed his guitar case and stalked off toward the bar. On his way, he spotted B.B. and stopped. “Hey there,” he said.
Nervous that he might give her away, B.B. said, “Oh, hello. What’s your name?” She tugged at some blond hair, discreetly pointing toward Valery, in hopes that he might recognize her.
He didn’t get the hint. “I’m Jeb. Jeb Purdy. Remember me? I made you lunch.”
“Lunch? …Today?” Her eyes narrowed. “No, I don’t remember that.”
“Yeah, there were seasoned Angus hamburgers, potato salad, some southwestern cole slaw…” His hands rotated in the air, gesturing for her to think.
Like a territorial bulldog, Valery suddenly scrunched her face in anger and snapped, “You heard the lady. She doesn’t know you. I, on the other hand, do.”
Jeb’s smoky-lined eyes widened in surprise. “You?”
“Yes, the sheriff’s department kicked you out of the eyesore on Shadyside Street.”
“Ohh.” Realization lit his bright blue eyes as he wagged a finger. “You were the one across the street with the binoculars and walkie talkie.”
“Yes,” Valery said proudly, sticking out her chest.
B.B. looked up at him with an apologetic furrow of her brow.
B.B. waited a few beats before saying to her table mate, “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”
Valery took a sip of her beverage without a word, and B.B. headed off with tempered steps to see Jeb.
They met up in the long, dimly lit hall that hosted payphones and a couple making out. Some of Jeb’s long dark hair had come loose from his man bun, falling over his chiseled cheek. B.B. suddenly felt self-conscious so close to him and his electric blue eyes.
“What’s going on?” Jeb said, setting down his guitar and leaning down to her. “Are you two like secret spy buddies or what?”
B.B. shook her head, her blond hair lightly bouncing. “I’m creating a diversion,” she said. “We were talking pot holders and then dish towels, and one thing led to another and now we’re here. And she keeps drinking and drinking. I’m afraid of going home with her.”
“What diversion?” Those electric blue eyes went from her eyes to her lips and back again. “From what?”
“Penny and the Kanes are back at the mansion.” She paused, catching a hint of his cologne. She drew it in deeply. “They think they know where a dead body’s at.”
“A dead body?” he said. “Old Mavis’s? Is that her name?”
“No, somebody else, from a long time ago,” she said, staring at his lips. “An old lover.”
“Oh,” he said. He bit his handsome, full bottom lip. “I guess they won’t be the only ones there.”
“What do mean?”
Lifting his hand slowly, Jeb grazed B.B.’s chin with a thumb. “Mitch Werner said he was going back.” His face started closing in on hers.
“He is?” she said breathlessly.
“Yes.” His other hand came up, and he started drawing his fingers through her hair at the nape of her neck.
B.B.’s heart beat hard. She felt her face flush red. “Why was he going back?”
“To steal the treasure for himself.” His lips were a breath away from hers.
