by Delia James
“Different world.”
“In so many ways,” agreed Grandma.
“And I imagine she’d get a little upset if she thought any of that had been threatened.”
“I imagine she would, yes,” agreed Grandma. “And I admit I’ve been thinking about that. Rather a lot.”
18
I am very glad to report that Julia did not insist that our ghost hunting at the old drugstore had to be done after dark.
“If there is a soul lost inside the building, they are there in the daylight as well as in the dark,” she said.
“I thought the vibrations from the sunlight could interfere with spectral activity and stuff like that.” At least, that’s what the Internet thought. I’d been doing a little light reading on ghost hunting along with the history of Portsmouth and its long list of smugglers, pirates and bootleggers.
“What the vibrations from sunlight mostly interfere with is people’s imaginations,” she answered tartly.
It was three days before the crime scene tape was taken down off the old drugstore. I threw myself into trying to find some hint as to the location of the tunnel where Jimmy had been found. I spent most of them in the Portsmouth Historical Society’s library, poring over old photographs, newspaper pages and plans from its digital archives. I saw the blueprints for Harbor’s Rest in the 1980s and the 1950s, and a very bad photocopy of a photocopy of the original plans from 1892. I made notes of other sources to chase down in other places. I made more sketches and printed copies and spent a couple of nights going over them with, I kid you not, a magnifying glass.
And at the end of it all, I got nothing except a headache and a stiff neck. Okay, that’s not entirely true. I also got short-tempered from having to keep lifting Alistair off the pages. Being a cat, he felt it was his duty to sit in the middle of any pile of paper that happened to be on the dining room table. Or the coffee table. Or the breakfast table. He particularly liked the books I checked out of the library and seemed to prefer Portsmouth: Evolution of a Riverside Town. But then it was an oversized volume.
I found exactly nothing about the tunnel, rumored or otherwise.
Trying to keep a good thought, I also made notes on material that would be useful for the new murals for Northeast Java. I spent mornings before the society and the library opened working on some watercolors and pencil sketches so I could show them to Jake and Miranda for their approval before I started in on the main work.
In the end, there were three of us in Grandma B.B.’s Galaxie, driving out to meet Julia and the dachshunds in front of the old drugstore. Val left the bed-and-breakfast in the care of Marisol, their new assistant manager, while Roger was meeting with the tourist board about McDermott’s placement in the information packages for people looking for places to stay on their leaf-peeping and winter vacation trips.
“He’s really serious about jump-starting the baby girl’s college fund,” I remarked.
“I don’t know when I’ve seen him so busy,” she said. “But it means I’m guaranteed at least an hour without a phone call.”
Midnight Reads was being minded by Julia’s assistants, Marie and Oscar. We had hoped Kenisha would be able to meet us, but she had called to beg off. The investigation had taken a turn, she said, but that was all she said.
Grandma and I helped get Val and her bulging tote bag out of the Galaxie.
“Hey, wow, welcome, good morning!” called Jake. He was jogging up the street, the ends of his bandana flapping in the breeze. “Sorry. Got my wires crossed. Wasn’t expecting you yet.”
“Do you need us to come back later?” said Julia. Max and Leo were snuffling around the threshold, wagging their tails (actually their whole behinds) excitedly.
Jake scratched his chin and glanced back down the street toward the square. “Uh, nah, it’s cool. I think it’d be better we get this, you know, cleared up.”
“Very well,” said Julia. Did she hear how nervous Jake sounded? Well, put it down to finding out if there was a real ghost in here. I sure wasn’t feeling my normal calm and collected self.
“Anna, do you need a moment?” Julia asked me as we got up to the door.
Actually, I did. I closed my eyes and deepened my focus to make sure that this time my mental shields were firmly in place. I did not want the old drugstore’s Vibe sneaking up on me while we were trying to raise a ghost. Or anything else that might be lurking in there.
When I opened my eyes, Grandma B.B. gave me a very prominent wink. Julia frowned. I tried to ignore them both.
The inside of the old drugstore looked just the same. The antique oak bar gleamed in the dim light that filtered through the paper on the plate glass windows. The dachshunds instantly began scampering around the entire room, shoving their noses into every crack and corner and filling the place with the sound of doggy toenails clicking and scratching against the floorboards. To me, the air still smelled of plaster and dust. Val sneezed and fished in her purse for a Kleenex, but Julia had one out first and gave it to her.
Julia put her bag down on the bar. “Valerie, Anna, would you set up the altar, please?”
“On it,” said Val.
“Do you guys need me to leave?” asked Jake.
“You can stay if you want,” said Julia. “There’s nothing secret happening. I will have to ask you to be quiet while we work.”
“Cool, great, okay.” He took himself over to the stairs and sat down with his arms folded on his knees. “So what happens?” Jake asked. “You sit around the table and join hands?”
“Certainly not as a first step. First, we consult the experts.”
“Cool.” Jake rubbed his hands together. I felt a pricking in the back of my mind that had nothing to do with magic.
According to Julia, an altar, though, would help establish our magical presence and attune the space to any workings we did have to accomplish. We laid a blue cloth over one of the scarred tables and set out a pair of candles. I filled a glass dish with salt while Val poured water into an antique silver cup and set a box of dried herbs. These symbolized the magical elements; earth, water, fire and air. We set each of these on its appropriate direction on the circle.
I laid my wand down in the center, just in case.
As I did, I felt sure someone was laughing at me. I shook myself and tried to pull my focus down more tightly around me.
“Are you all right, dear?” Grandma B.B. asked.
“I’m fine.” I was, mostly. I could feel the Vibe out beyond the edge of my mental shields. The back of my neck was already prickling. So were my fingertips and the backs of my hands. Worse, my curiosity itched, creating a dull, nagging sensation in my mind. I tried to ignore it, but it was not easy.
“We won’t be casting a formal circle unless we find a spirit, but we should take our places at the cardinal points,” said Julia. Grandma rolled her eyes. Julia ignored this. “Anna, by the windows there. Valerie, by the door. Annabelle, by the basement stairs, please.”
We all moved to our designated spots, while Julia stepped to the center of the room.
“Max, Leo. Here, boys.”
The dachshunds immediately halted their explorations and scrambled up to her, wagging, panting and yipping, clearly delighted with everything they’d seen so far. Leaning heavily on her walking stick, Julia bent down slowly and ruffled their floppy ears and whispered to them something so low I couldn’t hear. Then, she straightened up, and stood with her eyes closed and her hand resting lightly on her cane. A deep quiet radiated out from her to spread like a blanket over the room. My skin prickled, but I wasn’t afraid. I felt very aware and very awake.
Julia thumped her walking stick once. “Maximilian. Leopold,” she called, her voice low and clear. “Inveniet!”
My art school Latin came to my rescue. The command was “find.”
It is difficult to take a miniature dachshu
nd seriously. I mean, they are just about the cutest dogs on the planet. But when Julia gave the command, Max and Leo stopped all their snuffling, wagging and yipping. Their ears and tails came up, instantly alert. Leo dropped his nose to the floor and began casting about in a very deliberate circle, while Max showed every sign of being on watch.
My shields bent and shifted. I swallowed hard and clenched my hands. Grandma glanced worriedly at me. I nodded and gave her and Val a thumbs-up. I was okay. Really. But I couldn’t relax. The restless prickling in my skin was getting worse. So was the feeling of being watched. Movement caught my eye, and I looked out the window. There was Alistair on the sill, pawing at the latch. I shook my head at him, and he shrugged and vanished. That was when I saw something else. The windowsill, right by the latch, was freshly splintered, like it had been gouged by a sharp tool.
My brother Ted installs burglar alarms and home security systems, which is both appropriate and ironic since he taught me everything I know about breaking and entering when I was still a teenager. While I am certainly not advocating this as a lifestyle choice, Ted told me that if you ever do really want or need to break into a house, windows are a great bet. People will spend all kinds of money on door locks, but they’ll forget all about the window latches.
I looked to Jake sitting on the stairs, rubbing his long hands together. I looked to the splintered wood.
Leo’s circles were widening. He was almost at the stairs leading up to the second floor. Jake was watching. He shifted his weight uneasily. I put my hand on the latch. Yeah, it was, in fact, just a little loose. I also looked out the window, and I saw a battered tan car pulling up out back. Two men climbed out and slammed the doors.
Leo stopped in his tracks, his ears up, quivering from nose to tail.
“Yip!” Max trotted up beside his brother.
“There,” breathed Julia. “Someone is there.”
“Julia . . .” I began.
She raised her hand. “Welcome, spirit.”
Something rippled across the back of my neck. It was that feeling of being laughed at. We weren’t alone. I couldn’t see anything, but inside my head, my shields wobbled and strained, and I gulped down a spark of fear.
Footsteps thudded above us. I jerked my head up and my shields shifted again. Leo darted over to stand beside Julia, head down and hackles raised.
“Oh, no,” said Julia. “You’ll have to do better than that. Will you share your name with us?”
“Oh, I think we all know each other all right.”
A cop walked into a barroom. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the opening line for a joke. But it was Lieutenant Blanchard.
19
The atmosphere snapped. I felt the jarring like I’d just broken a board over my knee. Julia staggered. Jake jumped to his feet and Grandma and I rushed forward, while Val grabbed a chair and pushed it toward her. Both dachshunds yipped and scampered back to her side, whining anxiously. With all this going on, I almost didn’t notice that Pete Simmons walked in behind Blanchard.
Somebody laughed. Even Jake heard it. He actually spun in a circle, his face as white, as if, well, as if he’d seen a ghost.
“Well, well,” said Blanchard. “The gang’s all here.”
“You okay, Jake?” asked Pete. “Miss Parris?”
“Yes, fine,” Julia said, but she still collapsed into the chair.
“Is something wrong, Lieutenant?” I asked, putting myself between the policemen and my mentor. Val pulled a baggie of homemade granola bars and a bottle of water out of her tote bag. Grandma uncapped the bottle and Julia accepted it gratefully.
“Got the munchies, Miss Parris?” inquired Lieutenant Blanchard.
The sneer seemed to snap Jake’s focus back to the present. “Hello, Lieutenant. Hello, Pete.” Jake moved to stand beside me. “If you’re looking for a cuppa joe, you should go down to Ceres Street. Miranda’ll be glad to fix you up. We’re not exactly open here yet.”
“We got a call about some suspicious activity, Jake,” said Pete.
“Looks like they were right.” Blanchard fingered the altar cloth. Val glowered and took a step forward, but Leo darted in front of her and nosed her ankles. She took the hint and stayed where she was.
“Nothing suspicious here, Officers,” Jake said. “This is my place and these ladies are my guests.”
Blanchard watched, grinning while Julia swallowed her granola and chased it down with about half of the bottle of water. Max pawed and wagged and whined.
“Yes, yes,” she told her familiars. “I’m fine. I am.” She blinked, hard, and now her eyes, and her mind, really focused on her immediate surroundings.
“Since nothing’s wrong, you won’t mind letting us look around?” Blanchard folded his arms. “You know, just to be sure?”
Jake’s normally mild expression hardened. I knew there was about to be a perfectly reasonable question raised about a warrant, but apparently Grandma B.B. had decided this was all quite enough, thank you.
“You’re Lieutenant Blanchard, aren’t you?” Grandma stepped around the chair where Julia was sitting. Max tried to intercept her, but she stepped around him, too. “The one who’s been harassing my granddaughter?”
Oh. No. I was reaching out, like I thought I might have to drag her back by force. But she was already standing right in front of the lieutenant, looking him up and down. “I would have expected something better from Mickey Blanchard’s son.”
“Do I know you?” Blanchard asked, his voice full of cold and warning.
“No, but I’m sure Mickey remembers me.” Grandma had said something about a Mousey Mickey Blanchard. “Did he ever tell you about the time he snuck out after eleven when I was babysitting and tried to smuggle himself to Boston in the back of Avery Pope’s El Camino . . .”
Blanchard’s little eyes just about popped out of his head. “You . . . you’re Annie-Bell? Holy . . . He told me about you. He . . .” He pointed his finger at Grandma B.B. and then at me. “Wait. You’re her grandmother?”
“I’m older than I look, dear,” she said pleasantly. “How is Mickey doing? It’s been forever. Does he still put pickles on his peanut butter sandwiches?”
“Every time. Man, would you believe . . .” Blanchard stopped and stared, like he couldn’t believe he’d actually said something vaguely pleasant.
Grandma laughed and patted his arm. “Oh, don’t worry, dear. There’s nothing here to cause any fuss for the police. Unless . . .” She paused significantly. “You want to help us catch the ghost?”
“Ghost?” repeated Blanchard.
“Ghost?” said Pete to me. I smiled and nodded, vigorously. Pete covered what may have been an entirely unprofessional smile.
“Why, yes.” Julia gestured toward the table with its candles, cup and wand. “We were about to conduct a séance to attempt to contact the poor, restless spirit haunting this place. All true believers are of course welcome to join us.”
“Are you a true believer, Lieutenant?” asked Jake pleasantly.
“Oh, for the . . .” Blanchard strangled on his own words. “That’s what this is about?”
We all nodded, including the dachshunds. They also wagged their tails.
“I should have known it’d be something like that,” the lieutenant muttered. “Christ. Okay.” He waved his hand, dismissing us all. “You got one hour,” he said. “We’ll be watching, just in case something . . . happens. This is a crime scene, after all.”
“Was,” said Jake. “Was a crime scene.”
“I’ll be sure to take that into account when I am contacting the spirits,” said Julia distantly. “I’m sure such a presence as yours will serve to create a positive and receptive atmosphere.”
“Um. Yeah. Right,” muttered Blanchard.
“And please tell Mickey I said hello,” said Grandma cheerfully. “Perhaps I’ll stop b
y while I’m in town.”
“Um, yeah, sure.” But he was already backing away.
Jake flashed him the peace sign. Blanchard looked ready to spit on the floor, and all the muscles in his forearms tensed.
Grandma and Julia both stepped right between the two of them. So did Max and Leo.
Blanchard straightened his shirt cuffs, and he left. Pete gave us all a backward glance, and I’m not entirely sure he liked what he was seeing. The bell jangled as the door closed, and Max and Leo scampered over, nosing around the threshold to make sure the bad man was really gone.
“Thank you,” said Jake to Grandma.
“Oh, it was nothing, dear,” Grandma patted her hand.
“Well, it may have been nothing,” said Julia. “But it was also very well done, Annabelle.” She sounded a little surprised, which was not a reaction Grandma was going to appreciate.
“Oh, well, thank you so much, Julia,” she said pointedly.
Julia stiffened, and the dachshunds closed doggy ranks.
Time to interrupt. For better or worse.
“Hey, Jake. Um, I’ve got a question.”
“Sure. What’s up?”
I didn’t really want to do this. I didn’t want to be thinking the things I was, or worrying about what it all meant, but keeping quiet was not going to help.
“Who jimmied the window?”
Jake stiffened. “What?”
“Anna, what are you talking about?” demanded Val.
“Somebody got in here through the window, or at least they tried to.” I was still looking at Jake while I said it. “Maybe even while this building was still a sealed crime scene.”
Jake didn’t answer; he just worked his jaw back and forth.
“Is Anna right, Jake?” asked Julia. “Is something going on? You have to tell us, or we won’t be able to help you.”
