by Tess Lake
“I’ll give you something for that headache first,” Aunt Cass said. “Come with me.”
As I was about to leave the kitchen, thinking that the day couldn’t get much worse, Mom called out, “Oh we’re going to be having a dinner now that Jack’s parents are in town so make sure you invite them and please don’t turn up hungover.”
I spun around in disbelief.
“How do you even know they’re here? I only met them this morning,” I said.
“Adams told me,” Mom said.
“That little snitch,” I muttered and followed Aunt Cass out through the dining room of chatting guests.
As I followed Aunt Cass down to my end of the mansion I was trying to think up reasons I could use to get out of doing any kind of magical training, apart from me having a hangover.
“I’m working for Red Forrest. I can’t do this right now, I need to prepare,” I said, saying the first thing that came to my mind.
Aunt Cass passed me a small bottle and told me to drink it, which I did. It had an odd taste. Imagine if you took the scent of a sea breeze and compressed it into liquid. After I swallowed it I felt a momentary twinge of sadness that I couldn’t be out on the ocean sailing.
“What is that?” I asked.
“I call it Sailor’s Help. It’ll get rid of that hangover,” Aunt Cass said.
We kept walking on as though she hadn’t heard me say a single thing about Red. It was only when we reached our end of the mansion that she finally spoke again.
“Give me two hours, Harlow, and then you can sleep and rest. I think it’s better if you give me these two hours,” she said.
Her tone was serious and for a moment I caught a flicker of worry on her face.
“Okay, I’ll get changed,” I said.
“You know where to meet me,” Aunt Cass said and headed in the direction of the forest behind the mansion.
I went inside to find Adams sitting on the sofa watching the morning news.
“You’re a little snitch,” I said and pointed my finger at him.
The little black cat had the gall to look offended.
“What did I do?” he protested.
Chapter Six
Training with Aunt Cass was a disaster. I was meant to be picking up pebbles and floating them about the place like Aunt Cass demonstrated. She picked up stones and leaves and other small things and then made them dance in a beautiful ballet. But when I tried it I ripped giant clods of earth out of the ground. At one point I managed to pick up three pebbles at once but then I sneezed and one of them shot sideways, ricocheted off a tree trunk and broke a window in one of the abandoned slumped over cottages nearby. Magic sometimes is precise words and chanting and ingredients and things like that, but at other times it’s like a song—you have to listen and try to play along. Of course if songs go bad, they don’t often kill you. So after two hours of unsuccessfully trying to move around small pebbles I ripped up my final clod of dirt and then I’d had enough. I left Aunt Cass up in the forest sitting on a tree stump saying she had to think about some things, went back to our end of the mansion and immediately crashed into bed where, thanks to the concoction Aunt Cass had given to me and the delicious breakfast, I managed to sleep off the hangover.
By the time I woke a little after lunch I was feeling like a million dollars. I had a shower, ate some food, and then of course now that I was able to think clearly, I had a lot more time to think about what had happened last night.
The man had clearly been attacked, and the magic had felt muddy and gritty but was there a connection? The writers certainly thought it had been part of some hoax. Maybe we were all getting ahead of ourselves immediately leaping to it being some sort of supernatural monster. Perhaps it was a publicity stunt gone terribly wrong.
I looked through the itinerary as I ate a late lunch. Today was the grand opening of Writerpalooza and so all I had to do was collect Red and take her to the Town Hall, and then probably deliver her home again after that.
I had a little time before I had to go, so I hit the Internet searching for Markus Hornby, the author of the monster books who was apparently behind the publicity stunts.
I found the incident the writers had referred to. There had been a writing festival in Chicago where Markus was launching his novel The Sea Monster Lives!
Right around the same time a man had staggered into one of the local hospitals, his clothes slashed up, bits of seaweed all over him claiming that he been attacked by some horrible sea monster. It had gathered a burst of media attention until it had been revealed that the man was a paid actor by the name of Carl Stern and it was nothing more than a stunt. I found a page that had a photo of him on it. Yup, it was the same guy from last night.
I sat back in my chair and stared for a while as I thought things over.
It did seem that I had jumped the gun telling Aunt Cass and Mom of my suspicions. Yes, the magic had felt odd, gritty and muddy, but it was possible that was due to something else.
I decided I would talk to Red about it to see what she and the other writers knew, and then after that I would talk to Sheriff Hardy to let him know that there was possibly a hoax going on in town. Who knows, maybe even the ex-military man TJ McKenna had been fooled by wounds that would turn out to be fake.
Soon it was time for me to go, so I rushed out to the sports car, waited the ten seconds until the brilliant air conditioning had cooled it down, and then drove into town. The traffic was worse than I’d ever seen it. I hit pretty much what you’d consider the outer edge of Harlot Bay and immediately the traffic came to a dead grinding halt. I sat there for what seemed like ages before we finally slowly started moving again, only to stop a few seconds later to wait some more. I was glad I left a little early because it took a good half hour to inch my way into town to get to The Hardy Arms. Once I was in town I could see the reason why. The streets were filled with people as though there was a festival going on. They were constantly crossing the road, blocking the traffic, and cars were having a hard time moving.
Maybe Aunt Cass’s potion had had something in it that made me feel extra good, but whatever it was I was quite enjoying myself even though I was stuck in traffic. The air conditioning was on, the music was playing, and I was watching vampires and other people in costumes crossing the street all around me. I even saw a few people dressed up as Harry Sparkle.
As I sat there waiting for the traffic to move, I thought about Jack’s parents and opening the door to them, only to drop my glass and bolt. This time instead of cringing in embarrassment I smiled to myself and shook my head. They were his parents and they seemed lovely! And yes, there was a dinner coming up but given that the Torrent Mansion Bed and Breakfast was full to the brim, it was unlikely we would have some private crazy dinner. That meant we’d have to go somewhere public and like Jack hinted, I suspected that the witches would be on their best behavior if we were out in the world. Well, most of the witches. Who knew what Aunt Cass would do?
Eventually I reached The Hardy Arms and then ran inside before the heat could get to me. When I knocked on Red’s door she called out “It’s open!” I went in to find her tapping away at high speed on a laptop.
“Give me a minute, Harlow,” she said, focused on the screen. I sat on the edge of the bed and waited as she typed away, her fingers moving at a blur. Then she hit a button, closed the laptop and smiled at me.
“Done! The latest chapter in Red Menace. My heroine, Red Herringbone is currently trapped in a bookshop that’s on fire. All the windows are barred and someone has bolted shut the front door,” Red said.
“How are you going to get her out of that?” I asked.
Red shrugged. “I’m not going to get her out. I hope she does get out because only half the book is done and I would hate to have to explain to all the readers why she was killed in a bookshop fire, but it’s not up to me what happens.”
Red’s phone next to the laptop chimed away. She picked it up and read the message, and then chuc
kled before typing one in return.
“It seems your small town is full of secrets,” Red said.
“I guess it is. It has a long history,” I said, a little unsure what she was referring to.
“Jenna thinks she has a line on where some old documents are stored, possibly connected to some of the bizarre stuff that’s gone on in the past. She says we should check it out some night. Do you think you’ll be in?” she asked.
For a moment I was so stunned I didn’t quite understand what it was she was saying to me. Was she suggesting that we break into somewhere together?
Close on the heels of that confusion came the realization that there were actually plenty of strange things going on in Harlot Bay and a lot of them were connected to my family. Were Red and the authors investigating like private detectives?
“I don’t know if I’m up for breaking into places, is that what you mean? Are you guys being detectives?” I said.
“We got to talking last night and it seems there’s a lot of strange stuff going on in the town… starting with that guy who’d been attacked last night,” she said.
“I looked him up this morning. He’s a paid actor like you said. So maybe we all got it wrong because we’d had too much to drink? Could it be possible that his wounds weren’t real?” I said.
“That’s an excellent question, and after we do the opening ceremony we need to go to the hospital to see him,” Red said.
That happy-go-lucky, cheerful feeling that had carried me all the way into town was starting to ebb away. If the man being attacked was a publicity stunt gone terribly wrong and the writers investigated that, well, that was fine. But what if there was something? Particularly something magical? It could go very bad very fast.
I had the very unwelcome feeling that I should try to sidetrack Red to dissuade her from investigating anything that might turn out badly. If not for her safety, at least for ours as well.
“I guess we can go to the hospital then and see what happens,” I said weakly, frantically trying to think of something better.
Red got ready and then we raced out to the car to avoid the heat. Red was chatting away, commenting on all the costumes and the vampires lurking through the streets, but I was only half-listening, my mind running through various plans of things I could use to distract the writers. I was wondering if there was a spell that I could use. Maybe I could get the man at the hospital to say it was all a joke, a stunt that had gone wrong. If he told Red that then perhaps they would stop investigating.
On the other hand, maybe I shouldn’t do anything. After all, what’s the worst that could happen? They were just a bunch of authors and they weren’t here for long.
We were sitting at a crosswalk, waiting for what seemed to be a never-ending flood of people to pause so we could move on when two figures on the sidewalk resolved themselves into the two strange people who had stayed at the Torrent Mansion some months back. Later on, I’d caught them filming outside the theater where we were putting on The Taming of the Shrew. The woman was still wearing her ridiculous beehive of hair and the man had on his absurd clothes, including a pair of fake yellow buck teeth. The last time I’d seen them they’d been filming outside The Taming of the Shrew and I, perhaps under the influence of a magical salamander that made you either fall in love or get quite angry, had given chase, bolting after them. They had escaped in a car and I hadn’t seen them since. The moment I saw them on the sidewalk, I gasped.
“What is it?” Red asked in alarm. I pointed at the couple who were standing in the shade of a building talking.
“Do you see those two over there, the woman with the big beehive and the man with the fake teeth? They’re wearing costumes. There’s something weird about them. I caught them filming a theater production I was in a while ago, and before that they’d come to stay at the Torrent Mansion. I’m sure they were under fake names and now here they are again. There’s something suspicious about them,” I said in one long rush.
“Let’s confront them,” Red said immediately, looking very eager.
“What?” I said.
“I’ll get out and go over this way, you drive up ahead and park, and then come down the sidewalk towards us. If they try to run this way I’ll herd them back towards you and we’ll see if we can catch them and find out what they’re doing,” Red said.
“No, that’s crazy. I mean, yes, they’re weird but I…” I stammered.
“Come on Harlow, you said they’re up to something. Let’s find out what it is,” Red said. Without waiting for my agreement she leaped out of the car and slammed the door shut.
With no choice now but to take part I drove through the next available gap in traffic and up the road. It was still terribly slow going though and it was only by pure chance that a parking spot opened up right in front of me. I parked the car and stepped out of the deliciously chilled interior into the maddening heat. I scurried across the road with the rest of the tourists thinking to myself that what I was doing was crazy. At the same time though I was excited. It felt like some kind of mad adventure. My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a message from Red. They’re on the move coming your way.
I walked down the sidewalk, keeping an eye out for the strange couple. In the far distance I could see a head of flaming red hair, which I thought was Red. I realized I could be wrong a moment later when I saw one or two other women in the distance with the same hairdo.
It wasn’t long before I spotted the couple and about five seconds after that they saw me. They both pirouetted on the spot and hurried away.
“Hey, you two, stop!” I called out, breaking into a run.
The two of them bolted down the street but then there was Red, her arms outstretched and yelling at them. In a perfect moment of synchronicity the paid took a left, heading into an alleyway, and Red and I followed. The alleyway was narrow, cool and dark and away from the hustle and bustle of the main street. It was also, as we saw a few seconds later, a dead end. The strange couple were cornered. They turned around to face us and the man started fumbling in the bag he was carrying before eventually pulling out a small handheld camera.
“Leave us alone. We have a permit to film here!” the woman said, her hands out in front of her as though she was about to karate chop Red and me.
“Who are you?” Red demanded.
“None of your business,” the woman said.
“You were at the Torrent Mansion and you were wearing disguises, and then I saw you filming outside The Taming of the Shrew,” I said.
“Show whatch, thrreee country,” the man said, spitting as he spoke through the fake teeth.
The adrenaline running must’ve caught up with me because I’d had enough. I lunged forward and pulled the woman’s ridiculous beehive hairdo wig right off her head.
“Hey, give that back,” she said and then we struggled for a moment before she pulled it back off me. The man was trying to turn on the small handheld camera but Red snatched it from him.
“Take out those ridiculous false teeth and tell us what you were doing,” she demanded.
The couple looked at each other and after the woman nodded, the man pulled out his pair of fake yellow teeth and then took off his thick glasses before removing the heavy overcoat that he was wearing. The woman removed a thick pair of glasses and then undid the pins in her hair.
“Wait, I know you two. You’re from that show online, the Mysterious Mysteries,” Red said.
I had no idea what she was talking about, but I was feeling very nervous about what it was exactly we were doing. It was one thing to chase people to ask them a question, but then snatching wigs off heads and stealing their camera? All the while boxing them into a dead end alleyway? I was starting to feel less heroic investigator and more crazed vigilante.
“Our show is called The Mysterious Mysteries,” the man said, his voice smooth, even pleasant sounding now that he had the fake teeth removed. “May we have our camera back?” he asked.
Red handed it back to hi
m. He held it in his hand but didn’t turn it on.
“My name is Dawn and this is Rufus. We’re here in Harlot Bay to investigate the many strange things that go on here,” the woman said.
I’d never heard of them or their show but I had a very bad feeling. They’d stayed at the Torrent Mansion for at least a night that I knew of. Had they been there secretly filming? Oh Goddess, what if they’d seen something magical or witchy?
“Why were you staying at our bed-and-breakfast in disguise?” I asked.
Dawn shrugged and waved her hand. “Our show is getting quite popular and we don’t want to be known, so we travel in disguises while we’re doing our investigations.”
“We came to the Torrent Mansion because it is one of the oldest buildings in Harlot Bay and according to our research many strange things have happened there and on the land surrounding it,” Rufus said.
I saw Red looking at me with a raised eyebrow.
I had to handle this carefully.
“Plenty of strange things have happened in Harlot Bay but we’re only running a bed-and-breakfast, that’s all,” I said.
“That’s what we found too. There wasn’t enough there to make a show about,” Rufus said.
I breathed an internal sigh of relief. Still, I would have to track down the show and see if they’d said anything about my family or our home.
“What strange things are you talking about?” Red asked.
“You might have heard that last night a man was attacked, and he claimed it was by a monster. More than a hundred years ago the stories say that people living out on Truer Island were attacked by a monster also and on one bloody night half the people out there were killed. We’re here investigating that,” Dawn said.
“But why were you filming outside The Taming of the Shrew?” I blurted out.
“It was another dead end,” Rufus said. “We thought we could tie in something about all the various murders that have been around Harlot Bay, but then it all came to nothing. Can you explain why you chased us?” he asked.
