Again I pounded on the wall and waited, hoping that Cookie wasn’t in the kitchen trying to lie about what the noise was again.
When I emerged from the secret passageway, everybody in the kitchen was staring at me. It took a second for my eyes to adjust to the light, but when I did I saw that they were all dressed in black, and my mother was wearing a belt of knives.
“What happened?” I demanded.
“The Skeleton Trio got loose again,” said Meg quietly.
“Do you really need your serious gear to go looking for them?” I asked.
“We already found them. They were smashed to bits,” said my mom grimly.
Chapter Nine
Until that day, Haunted Bluff had always been a safe haven for the supernatural crowd. They’d come to work and laugh, and life at the haunted house had been good. With the Skeleton Trio obliterated we had entered a new and frightening era. It was imperative that we figure out what was going on as fast as we could.
On top of that, what had started off this whole problem was a slew of ghost disappearances. If we didn’t figure out what was happening soon, the haunted house might have to close.
“Can’t you just perform a spell to tell us what happened?” Meg asked worriedly. She was asking Cookie because Cookie was the best spell caster of all of us, even if she tried to pretend she wasn’t.
“Maybe that would work for humans, but certainly not for skeletons,” Cookie said. “There’s nothing to attach my spell to.”
“We have to deal with this and we have to deal with this now,” my mom said firmly. “The other supernaturals are going to be desperately worried, and rightly so.”
“We can’t have it threatening business, either,” said Meg.
We all turned to look at Cookie, who shrugged. “I didn’t do it.”
“We know that,” said Pep.
Lark turned to me with a skeptical expression. “Do we know she didn’t do it?”
“Oh, stop it. If I was going to commit a crime I’d be sure to do it properly and frame one of you so you’d stop bothering me,” Cookie said.
“Frame Jane, she’s the one who hasn’t been here in a while,” said Lark helpfully.
“Oh, thanks,” I said.
“We can’t just stand here chatting. We have to do something,” said Cam.
“Look who’s talking. You’re only eighteen,” said my mother.
“I’ve gone out on hunts before,” Cam insisted.
“This is different,” said mom, the worry clear in her voice.
“Yeah, this is definitely riskier,” Corey confirmed. “Nothing like this has ever happened at the mansion before.”
Kip had done the most hunting and was very competent, so when he spoke people listened. “This is different,” he said now. “I don’t know what’s happening, but it’s not something that’s ever happened before and it’s dangerous. The sooner we find out what it is, the sooner we can stop worrying about it.”
“It really would be better to find out before tomorrow when there’s a full moon,” said Audrey. “If the ghosts are rained on and made solid, it could get really bad.”
“What’s the forecast?” Mom asked.
“Stormy,” said Kip.
“I’m going with you on the search,” I said.
“No way,” chorused my mom and Meg.
“Yes, I am,” I insisted. Being a haunt hunter was all I had ever wanted, and I couldn’t understand why my mom wouldn’t let me do it. If gender roles were actually changing . . .
“We have plenty of hunters, you’re needed here,” said Mom, her tone softening a little, but not enough to appease me.
“Oh, yeah, doing what?” I couldn’t keep the note of bitterness out of my voice, especially since Lizzie got to go haunt hunting.
“We need a liaison between the stable ghosts and the house skeletons. I figure you’d be perfect. Ghosts seem to like you and skeletons don’t like much of anyone.”
She said that like it was a good thing.
In the end I spent the afternoon angrily trying to talk to the ghosts without yelling at them when they talked back. I was more successful sometimes than others.
“We don’t like how all of this is going,” the stable ghosts informed me.
“How is all of what going?” It took all I had not to roll my eyes.
“The attack on the skeletons,” Gus explained, his voice shaking. He was floating above a bale of hay in the stables. “We’re pretty sure ghosts are going to be next.”
“My family’s on the case,” I explained.
“Now why don’t you try saying something comforting,” said another ghost.
The salsa dancing ghost nodded. Considering that she was one of the ones who had attacked Lizzie the day before, I couldn’t get totally angry, because when all was said and done I might want her to do it again.
“What are your demands?” I asked.
“We want the early shift for this weekend night,” Gus repeated.
In other words, the stable ghosts, including Gus, wanted the better shift at the haunted house on Saturday night. “House ghosts always get the good shifts,” he added.
“They do live in the house,” I explained. I’d been explaining this for the past hour, but they didn’t care.
“And why is that?” Gus demanded.
“Because they don’t attack the family,” I said.
“I didn’t hit you,” Gus argued.
“Not for lack of trying,” I said.
“We get one of the good shifts,” Gus repeated stubbornly.
“Fine, you can have the good shift on Sunday,” I said. I felt like this way they were getting one of the shifts and I still wasn’t doing what they wanted, which was important to me. “Now I have to go inside and tell the house ghosts what’s what,” I added.
“Good luck with that,” he said.
“Thanks so much,” I shot back.
“It’s okay to have you back, not,” he said, sticking his tongue out at me.
I waved goodbye and trudged back to the house. I was still angry that my entire family had gone out searching for the skeleton pounders and left me here by myself doing grunt work. Pep was in the gift shop, but that was about it.
If they didn’t come home in time for dinner, I’d be forced to eat whatever Cookie was making, because she’d be in charge of the kitchen. For once I hoped they’d be back soon.
Back indoors, I started looking for the house ghosts. It wasn’t all that hard to find them, since they were playing cards in a Bluff haunted house room that overlooked the cliff as le-haunts practiced bad juggling nearby.
I told them that the stable ghosts weren’t going to be walked over anymore and that they were going to have to deal with it. Then I headed off to check on my grandmother.
I wasn’t concerned because something might have happened to her, but because with no one keeping an eye on her she could create a lot of destruction in a hurry.
As I passed the sealed door to the basement, a copy of the Spooky Times blew toward my feet. The Times was a sort of newspaper bulletin produced Down Below. Witches didn’t have a newspaper, and usually the ghosts and skeletons went to great lengths to keep us from seeing theirs. Whether the grimy copy that had just appeared under the door had been shoved there or left by accident, I wasn’t going to let the opportunity go to waste.
I bent down to pick up the paper before someone on the other side of the door could snatch it back into the abyss. Cold wind blew over my hand and I took in a quick breath, but I did manage to grab the paper before it could blow away.
After a quick scan of the front page, I almost wished I hadn’t read it. On the top of the bulletin was printed in the largest possible type, “Danger! Skeletons beware! The end is near!”
“That’s fatalistic, especially for a bunch that’s already dead,” I thought to myself.
Then I took a step and nearly tripped over something dangling around my feet.
“Rose! How many times
do I have to tell you to walk on your own feet and not mine!”
“Apparently at least one more time,” said Rose innocently as she faced away from me and stuck her tail in the air.
Before I could retort I heard a car drive up, tires crunching over the gravel out front. My heart started to beat more rapidly at the sound, which for some reason seemed ominous. It was too early for the house to be open for visitors. Everything here was swirling. The last thing we needed was company.
I stuffed the Spooky Times into my back pocket and rushed through the hall.
“I will not let you in,” Cookie roared as only an old lady could. She was braced against the front door using her back, along with the deadbolt, to hold it closed as her tiny feet tap danced over the marble floor.
“Cookie, what on earth is going on?” I gasped, skidding to a halt.
Really, you would have thought I’d seen everything. The rest of my family was still out hunting whatever had smashed the skeletons to pieces, so I was alone with my grandmother, who was supposed to be cooking.
“Somebody knocked on the door,” she complained. “I figured it would be best to keep them out, so that’s what I’m doing.”
“What if they want something important?” I demanded.
“They can’t possibly,” said Cookie.
“What makes you say that?” I asked.
“The young man didn’t have flowers or chocolate. What else are they good for besides gifts of the floral or melting variety?” she demanded. From the other side of the door I heard a deep chuckle.
Shock spiked through me. There was a man on the other side of the door! I had obviously known there was someone, but I hadn’t expected it to be a man who could chuckle like that. Was he young? Was he old? I suddenly wanted to know!
“Just because you’re laughing doesn’t mean I’ll let you in,” my grandmother yelled to the door.
“I would expect nothing less from the famous Cookie,” said the man’s voice. This made my grandmother pause. Any time someone suggested she was famous, she took notice. Her hand floated up and she carefully fixed her hair.
After a brief spell of indecision she reaffirmed her original choice.
“Maybe I’ll just see what he wants,” I said.
I inched closer to the door, but Cookie was wise to me and moved to block it.
“We don’t care what he wants,” she reaffirmed.
“You don’t care, but I may care,” I said. “Step aside or I’ll ask Lady Oakley to haunt you.”
“Lady Oakley doesn’t scare me,” said my grandmother, but her voice shook a little.
“That’s because you never spent a night in the attic with her,” I told her.
Grumbling, my grandmother stepped aside and let me unbolt the door.
Chapter Ten
When I opened the door, a gasp escaped my lips before I could stop it. Standing on the doorstep was a remarkably good-looking man. I had seen a lot of them in New York, but most of them were models who looked hungry, with overly-chiseled faces. This guy was different. He had black hair and bright blue eyes and I could already see just a hint of dimples when he smiled.
My grandmother peered out at him. “It’s called the flower shop. You should have stopped there before you came here,” she told him. He grinned at her, his eyes leaving me for the first time since I’d opened the door.
“If I had realized there were ladies at the house I definitely would’ve brought flowers,” he said.
Cookie snorted.
“What can I help you with?” I asked. I was wary of this guy, not sure if he was here for the haunted house or the family, also not sure which would be worse.
“My name is Grant Hastings, and I’m with the Supernatural Protection Force,” he said formally.
I was so stunned I couldn’t speak, but my grandmother didn’t have that problem. Sadly, she never had that problem.
On this occasion she squawked, “Why do you come around here! None of us are in trouble!”
Grant’s eyes shifted to my grandmother and he raised his eyebrows. “I heard there was a problem with skeleton-smashing going on around here,” he explained. “That’s a pretty unusual occurrence. At least, to have it happen and not know the culprit. Usually they fight with each other in front of a lot of witnesses and something goes wrong, not this sort of murder by night. I was sent to help.”
“Shouldn’t they send a witch to help?” I asked.
“Not unless they think a witch did it, which they don’t,” he replied. His voice had taken on a steely quality that it hadn’t had a moment before.
“My family isn’t home at the moment, but you can come back when they are,” I said, starting to shut the door in his face with Cookie’s eager help.
He put his foot in the way and gently held it open. “I prefer to come in and wait, if you don’t mind.”
I had known he was going to do and say that, and I was terribly worried about my grandmother saying something horrible. He seemed to read some of that in my face because he said, “I have a grandmother too.”
“Well then you should know how lucky you are,” my grandmother informed him.
Reluctantly, I let the door open all the way. Grant stepped inside and took in the dim foyer.
“Nice place,” he said.
I guess he hadn’t noticed the extra coating of dust on the floor. The grandfather clock was especially dirty.
“We know,” said Cookie. She stood primly, just as if there wasn’t dust from the sixties in the corners and the chandelier wasn’t missing several bulbs.
“Mind if I have a look around?” he asked.
I said yes just as Cookie placed her arm through his and said, “Let me give you the grand tour.”
“Cookie,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Dear girl, we have a lot of unmarried women around here, and how are we ever to get rid of you if we don’t marry you off?” she demanded out of the side of her mouth.
“What does he have to do with that?” I demanded.
“He’s male,” she said.
“That’s a pretty low standard for marriage,” I told her.
“Beggars can’t be choosers,” she said. “Now go fix your hair. You look frightful.”
Although my grandmother was pretending he couldn’t hear us, our guest most definitely could. Grant was trying his best not to laugh and failing miserably.
My face went red and I decided it was best not to leave my grandmother alone with this man. To be fair, that was usually my assessment of her, but now it was imperative. We had an investigator here and that was really serious business. My mother would not be pleased.
“So how do you know about witches?” I asked him.
He glanced at me over his shoulder as my grandmother led him into the haunted house portion of the mansion. I had the distinct impression that there was something he wasn’t telling me.
“I come from a family of witches,” he said. “Men in my family are all haunt hunters, so it made a lot of sense for me to follow in their footsteps.”
“Both my cousins are haunt hunters for this place,” I informed him.
There were local haunt hunters who looked after the town they lived in, like my cousins and my brother Cam, and then there were regional investigators who worked for the network and government of the witches. Some were warlocks, but those were much rarer these days than witches.
Grant belonged to the regional force, which made him dangerous. Each region had one lead investigator, who was in charge of a team. I didn’t know where this warlock fit into that structure, but I knew my mother wouldn’t be happy that he had been sent to Haunted Bluff.
My mother had never liked the governing body, and she’d liked them less and less recently.
“This is a really great haunted house,” he said. “It was used as a blueprint for all the other haunted houses in the area, right?”
We agreed that it was, and my mother was very proud of that fact. You could go to other haunt
ed houses, but they would always be an imitation of the real thing.
We were now walking through a spooky bedroom that served as the introduction to the haunted house. There was a wardrobe in the corner with a ghost in it, and I longed for Grant to go open the door and be spooked. He must have known there were ghosts around, though, because he did no such thing.
“My family works hard at keeping the haunted house as authentic as possible,” I explained.
“They’ve done a great job,” he said, his head turning from side to side. He appeared to be fascinated. “I’ve always wanted to come here. My family has been talking about it for years, but I’ve never made it until now. When I heard you were having trouble, I jumped at the chance to come.”
“Don’t tell my daughter-in-law that, she’s going to be mad enough that you’re here as it is. She has fangs, a pitchfork, and a temper,” Cookie warned him.
I thought it was uncharacteristically nice of Cookie to warn him of anything, but then I always thought it was uncharacteristic when Cookie was nice.
Grant glanced back at me, a slight frown furrowing his forehead. “Don’t you want help with whatever attacked the skeletons?” He clearly didn’t take Cookie’s fangs statement seriously. Brave man.
“I think we have it in hand,” I told him coolly.
“Is it that you don’t think I can do the job or that you don’t like the government?” he pressed.
“I’m sure you can do the job just fine,” I lied.
“You don’t think I can do the job,” he said accusingly. “You think your whole family can solve every problem without anyone else. Typical.”
Typical of what, he didn’t say.
“We’ve done a pretty good job so far,” I shot back.
“What other rooms do you have here?” he asked.
“There’s a haunted library and the meat cleaver kitchen. We change them frequently so the customers and the supernaturals themselves are never bored. Aunt Meg is amazing with decorations, so she’s able to make the house feel authentic.”
“Amazing,” Grant breathed.
I heard the front door slam and my mother yell for me. The three of us made our way back to the foyer, but my grandmother was intentionally slow, keeping Grant back and forcing me to go first.
Spooky Business (Jane Garbo Mysteries Book 1) Page 7
