Emily stepped out, but only after the other cats showed themselves and one by one jumped back up on the work table.
“I know you are all amazed,” Madelyn said. “Like the TV infomercial hosts like to say, ‘But wait, that’s not all.’”
Chloe stepped forward and addressed the clan. “I’m next. I’ve been listening to Madelyn. At first, I didn’t know what she was talking about. Like you all, I thought she was a bit loony.”
Chloe raised a paw next to her head, spun it in a tight circle, and stuck out her tongue.
“Umm, thanks,” Madelyn said.
“Hear me out. I’ve been focusing on this science stuff the best I can. And I think it really does work. To prove it, I can levitate up to thirty pounds now.”
“You’ve already told us that,” Rebecca scoffed, pawing her singed whiskers. “Big deal. Try to top Esther’s display of power. Good luck.”
A sly grin spread across Chloe’s face. Emily knew that sideways smile. Her cousin was going for flair. She would perform a feat to shock everyone.
“Oh yeah, Rebecca? You say that with no effort to hide your sarcasm. Well, pay attention and check this out. I can move multiple, smaller objects. Not just one large one. I’ve never been able to do this before. Watch this.”
Emily was amazed and proud of her younger cousin. As usual, Chloe didn’t disappoint. She watched Rebecca, Scarlett, and Helen, trepidation in their eyes, lifted a few feet off the table. Their feet dangling and Rebecca looking scared out of her wits, which was a first for her, the cats were slowly rotated in a full circle.
Emily jumped back up to her shelf and enjoyed the show. She watched with pleasure as Chloe swung the three cats in a small, slow orbit at first, but with each full turn speeding up a little faster. This was a standoff, four hundred years in the making, between her cousin and the second in command, both of whom had a hubris befitting the queen of a large nation. Chloe had the clear advantage, since she was in charge. After a dozen dizzying mid-air rotations, Rebecca blinked.
“Okay, okay. You win,” Rebecca said. “Just let us down. Gently, of course.”
Emily watched as the three cats slowly were let back down. The others looked on with awe. The whole event was smooth, and Rebecca had just been knocked down a notch.
“That was amazing,” Emily said. “Well done. Clearly, a deeper understanding of our powers is increasing our abilities to use them.”
A bit startled and clearly humbled, Rebecca said, “Okay, I’m convinced. That was pretty cool.” She stepped to the front of the bench. Emily knew her pride was hurt, and would try to change the subject.
“Moving forward, we should look for more guests to kill. We’re able to do far more complex murders now. Like Chloe, we all may be able to find out we can do so much more.”
Emily was excited and ready to test Madelyn’s theory. No time for arguing or rebuttal. “Like you said, it’s what we do best. In fact, let's kill two people this time. A couple.”
This got a resounding round of, “Yays!”
“Emily,” Rebecca said. “It’s great to have you on board again. I’ve missed my best friend. And now I have her back.”
Emily smiled wide. “So who’s next?”
“The place is empty. Thanks to us. We’ll have to wait for the next group of people.”
“What about that snippety old wench Erma?” Helen said. “Scarlett, you can cause madness. What a hoot that would be. I’d pay good money to see that.”
“That lady is a real basket case.” Scarlett replied. “Not much I can do causing madness. She’s already wonkers.”
A chorus of laughter ensued. Emily found herself laughing, too. Killing guests at Murcat Manor was the cure for what ailed her. She felt regenerated with a lust for more. And, as the leader, she appreciated her followers’ willingness to take chances and expand their horizons.
“Isabella,” Emily said. “That was a great idea, hissing inside Erma’s mind so only she could hear it.”
Isabella tried to refrain from laughter. “She really went off the deep end. I think it made her more upset that we yawned or closed our eyes when she confronted us.”
The cats shared in another round of laughter. Emily sat back and let the twelve dictate the flow of the meeting.
“But I’m bored again,” Isabella said. “Messing with Erma only fueled my desire for more. I can’t wait for new guests. Besides, our next victims may not be in this next group. We might have to wait for the next group. Or the next.”
The other cats were agitated. They paced back and forth across the work bench, each complaining of their impatience about having to wait to use their abilities on the next victim. Emily needed to bring them back in focus.
“Okay, everyone take it easy. We need to give a little time between killings. Otherwise, Darrowby will shut this place down. We need to dictate the flow of events. Not the detectives. Not Bob. And certainly not Ross and Erma.”
“We can’t take it easy,” Rebecca said. “Not until we kill someone else.”
“I have an idea,” Emily said. “To kill time until we identify our next victims, let’s mess with Boring bob’s head. Angel, dreams are your specialty. Tonight, I want you to get inside his mind. Give him prophetic dreams of events that will unfold at Murcat Manor as the days and weeks go by. Make them generic, but meaningful.”
Chapter 28 Three Dreams
Bob woke afresh Monday morning. The sun broke through the slits of their bedroom window shutters and woke him an hour before his alarm was set to go off. He rolled back and forth, trying to find relief—both of his sides throbbed with pain.
His stirring woke Debbie. She turned, her head still buried in her pillow, eyes closed, but somehow managing to give Bob a wide smile. They ended up snuggled deep in their pillows facing each other.
“How did you sleep, sweetie.”
Bob ignored his soul mate’s morning breath. His was worse, he was sure. “The melatonin really helped. I slept straight through. Thanks for the idea.”
Debbie stroked his hair. “We need to take care of ourselves. The stress and physical demands of this place are taking their toll on our bodies and our minds.”
“Not to mention the deaths of DeShawn Hill and Paul Knudson.”
“Well, let's not dwell on that. We'll go crazy if we do. They're in the past. We need to move forward.”
Thanks to Debbie, Bob was ready to face the day with a positive attitude, even though his body felt like it was run over by a truck. He nudged six sleeping cats off the bed and tossed off his coverings. He stood and performed a few stretches, then looked in the mirror as he put on his pants and shirt.
“I had some really weird dreams last night.”
“Dreams?”
“Yeah. Three, in fact.”
Debbie sat up. “Three dreams? That’s interesting. Do you remember them?”
“Clear as day.”
“That’s memorable. They must mean something. I almost always forget mine. What were they?”
“Not that I give any credibility to dreams, however, I’m eating breakfast and everything in my world is blue. I’m by a lake and there are two guardian angels, one male and one female.”
Debbie smiled and nodded. “Okay, and then what?
“Well, that was all for the first one. I know, nothing earth shattering. In the second, I’m on a train or a subway. Everything is gray and I’m eating lunch by myself. I’m traveling forward through time and I can clearly see places to get off and get on. I know that I have the ability to stop, but have no control of where I’m going because I don’t where I’m supposed to disembark. I’m speeding forward, faster and faster, all the while passing by people and events I should be enjoying.”
Debbie’s smile was now forced, Bob knew. Two dreams in, and Bob’s concern was his wife thought he was losing his marbles. Might as well finish the third and spare Debbie asking for it.
“In the final dream, it’s night time. After a long hard day of work, I arrive h
ome exhausted and park in the driveway. I then walk down a path and only want to go inside and eat dinner. But the path swerves around the house into the backyard. I walk all the way to the fence on the boundary line. Just as I reached out to grab it, I woke up. Oh, and you can lose the forced smile. I know this is all so strange.”
Debbie blew Bob a quick kiss. “Well, don’t fret over it. Maybe vivid dreams are a side effect of the melatonin.”
“Speaking of the sleeping aid.” Bob said, “I’m glad I got a great night’s sleep. Saturday was such a nightmare. And we worked all day Sunday getting this place back to normal. I still find it hard to believe how much work this place needs every day, even with Raymond and Maria helping. My back and sides are so sore I can hardly move.”
Bob brushed a couple more cats off their bed and helped Debbie get up and into her robe. “Let’s go to the kitchen. We can make any final preparations for today’s guests. There’re always those who show up early.”
Debbie sniffed the air. “I think I smell bacon.”
“Mmmm, I smell it too."
Bob looked at the cats, which were also sniffing the air, now wide awake and pacing the floor. “The cats can smell it too. Maria must be getting breakfast ready for us.”
The cats were running at Bob’s feet as they walked into the kitchen. “These darn cats. I almost tripped over them,” he said, steadying himself against the wall.
“Don't look now," Debbie said as they entered the kitchen. "But here come the rest.”
Bob almost tripped again as they ran between his feet. But he made it safely to the table and was happy to see breakfast and coffee waiting for him and Debbie.
“Good morning,” Maria said. “I know it’s been a rough couple days. Have a seat at the table. I’ll feed the cats.”
She filled four large bowls with scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns, and melted cheese and set them on the floor. The cats converged and devoured the food.
“I’ll never get over how they eat people food,” Maria said. “They won’t touch cat food. And they love watermelon, especially since it’s been so hot.”
Bob looked at the cats gorging down their meal and shook his head. He was half way through his plate of food when he opened his laptop and checked the reservations page.
“The good news is no one cancelled. We'll have a full house. The bad news is we still have a lot of work to do. And, as usual, people will probably arrive early before the two o'clock check in.”
Debbie took a sip of her coffee and yawned. “We'd better eat up and get started. Also, I think you should write down the details of your dreams.”
“Dreams?” Maria said.
“Bob had three dreams last night,” Debbie said. She gave Maria the particulars.
“Mr. Stevens,” Maria said without hesitation. “Those are very vivid dreams. You should find someone who can interpret them. If you don’t, then I will.”
Not another mystic, Bob thought, wondering if he should have screened Maria a little more thoroughly before hiring her. Bob would normally shrug off the suggestion of an interpretation of his dreams, especially as crazy as the ones he had last night.
But with all the talk of ghosts and curses and the property being haunted, and now Maria giving him a look saying she could find a dream interpreter, he would at least leave the thought open for consideration.
Chapter 29 Double The Pleasure
Emily, along with her leaders Rebecca, Chloe, Scarlett, and Isabella, stood at the top of the stairs. The rest paced back and forth behind them, waiting for the next group of people to arrive. Raymond was mowing the front and back yards and had a full day of outdoor projects planned. Maria was busy in the upstairs laundry room, washing and drying an enormous heap of bedding and towels.
They watched from a nervous distance as Bob and Debbie each took a strange noisy monster out the dark confines of what they called ‘The Forbidden Closet’ and proceeded to push them back and forth across the living room carpet.
These were demented creatures surely spawned in the bowels of the Netherworld. Somehow, humans had innate powers that controlled the beastly creatures.
Bob paused and peered out the living room front window. He checked his watch. “Ten after eleven. What'd I tell you, honey. The first guests are almost three hours early. Let's put the vacuum sweepers away and go outside and greet them.”
Emily blew out a sigh of relief. Bob and Debbie had once again corralled the hellish fiends and put them back in prison behind the ‘Forbidden Door.’ Emily had given the cats strict instructions never to open it for fear the devils would escape and swallow them whole. With the beasts now vanquished, the coast was clear to go downstairs. Emily led the charge.
“Okay, ladies. Time to pick out our next victims.”
All thirteen cats rushed down the stairs into the living room and spread out on the couches, chairs, and ottomans. The next four and a half hours brought nine more couples, three with two kids each. Emily and the cats studied each adult, looking for anything they could exploit. Weaknesses. Strengths. Habits. Emotions. Fatigue. They were patient and open to anything.
Hours seemed to drag on without mercy. It was hard for Emily to keep her eyes open. They had been awake most of the night and stuffed themselves with a huge breakfast. Scarlett dozed off, as had Angel and Esther.
Emily let her sisterhood catnap for an hour before waking them. She let the others take turns, three sleeping for an hour, while the rest studied the incoming vacationers. But as the day progressed, Emily found she was the only one still awake.
Finally, after five eternal feeling hours, the tenth couple arrived at four o'clock. The woman was loud and talking—more like barking—up a storm. Her boisterous voice penetrated through the walls and double paned windows like weaponized laser beams.
Emily could feel her anxiety and nervous intensity. She took a moment to focus on the husband. She was getting nothing, which told her he had a calm demeanor.
They were polar opposites and the energy between them was seriously conflicted. This opened many opportunities where her sisters could be most creative with their powers.
“Everyone, wake up. I like what I'm feeling about this last couple.”
The woman pushed her way in between her husband and Raymond, who was holding a half dozen pieces of their luggage. Her mouth was a locomotive on full steam ahead.
“That's right. You owe me this here vacation. I works hard for my money, ‘n all’s you do is stay at home all day watchin’ yo damn TV.”
“Aw, c’mon, baby. I be lookin’ for work.”
“Ha. You. Look for work? My cocoa brown ass you be lookin’ fo’ work. Hey, bellboy, drop the suitcases here at the door. Reginald can carry ’em up to the room. Be the first work he done in months.”
“Bellboy?” Emily said. “How dare she? I already hate this lady.”
“Welcome to Murcat Manor,” Debbie said most graciously. “It's a pleasure to have you. Are you the Johnsons?”
“Thas right, sweetie. Reginald and Sophia Johnson. Thas who we are. Come all the way up from Detroit.”
Emily applauded Debbie for trying to be so graceful in the face of such a belligerent and obnoxious person.
“I see you've booked the Disco Room,” Debbie said. “I just know you're going to love it.”
Sophia looked around and let out a slow whistle. “Ooowee, this place’s sho' is nice. I'm glad we done booked us a solid week here.”
A week, Emily thought. Perfect. She couldn’t have scripted a better scenario.
Sophia walked across the living room to the large arched entryway to the kitchen and let out a loud long whistle. “Now this here? This here is whatcha calls a kitchen. How's the food, sweetie?” Sophia slapped at her plump belly. “I’m starving.”
Debbie caught up to Sophia. “Ah, we eat dinner in two shifts. You're on the second shift at six-thirty.”
Sophia turned and placed her hands on her more than ample hips, her head in a soul-sister neck rol
l. “Six-thirty? I don' think so, honey. I'm not payin’ all this money so I can eat leftovers from the first shift.”
“Oh, um, well, I'm sure we can place you on the first shift. They eat at five o'clock.”
“Damn straight. Mmmhmm. I'm on vacation, you hear? Ain’t taking no back seat to no one or no thing no how.”
Sophia returned to the living room. “Good Lord-a-Mighty. Would you jus’ take a look at all these lazy behind cats.”
“We have thirteen of them,” Bob said. “Want to take one home with you?”
“Nuh uh. Nooooo, honey. I hate cats. Had my way? I’d kill all of the useless varmints. Jus’ what kinda place you be running here? Thirteen crazy ass cats?”
Rebecca was glaring at Sophia. “This lady has no respect.”
Emily shook her head. “I feel bad for the husband. What a mouth she has. I'm almost willing to kill her and let him live.”
“Almost.”
“An’ hey—why’n the hell’s my suitcases still at the bottom of the stairs?” She smacked her palms together. “Let's go, Reginald. Get a move on, brah. This here be my vacation. Comprendo? Mines. M-I-N-E-S. And everyone’s gone be waitin’ hand ‘n foot on me fo’ the next seven days.”
Emily was stunned and speechless. So were the others. Their otherwise chatty mental communication airway was devoid of sound.
“Looks like we have our next victims,” Emily said, finally breaking the silence. “All in favor?”
The reply was a unanimous and resounding, “Aye!”
“Okay. We have an entire week. We should wait until the last night. Place a little more time between killing Paul Knudson and these two. If we do it tonight, Darrowby might arrest Boring Bob and shut this place down.”
“That’s my job,” Rebecca said. “When the time comes, I’ll know just what to do.”
Chapter 30 Star Child
Reginald Vincent Johnson was enjoying a deep sleep. Visions of him in high school thirty years ago, swishing buzzer-beating three-pointer after three-pointer in slow motion, swirled in his head. With every shot his defender went for the fake or couldn’t contend with his jump shot. With each swish, the crowd chanted his nickname.
Salem's Daughters Page 17
