When I finally noticed his absence, I asked Pep and Lark, “Where’s Uncle Taft?”
Pep looked around. She hadn’t missed him any more than I had, but once she’d scanned the large, crowded room, she didn’t see him either. “I don’t know. Probably manning the battlements or something.”
“Does that mean he’s sleeping?” Lark asked.
“It’s as likely an option as any,” I said.
Our concern about Uncle Taft was sidetracked by the arrival of Grant in our corner, a glass of dark liquid in one hand and a cookie in the other. Looking rather happy, he strolled up and said, “Evening, ladies.”
“Hi there,” said Lark. “What do you think of the party?”
“I thought the entrance of the skeletons was exciting,” he said.
“One wouldn’t want to be dull,” said Pep.
“One thing this place hasn’t been is dull,” said Grant.
“Have you had a lot of mysteries to investigate before this?” Lark asked.
Grant was settling in to chat with us, having finally torn himself away from Lizzie. She had watched him walk toward us with a mixture of anger and confusion on her face, but now she was drowning her sorrows by chatting with a good-looking vampire.
“I’ve had a few. There’s a lot of training to go through before you can become a full-fledged investigator. For warlocks who are doing investigative work,” he explained, “they don’t want us to screw up and they want to minimize the danger we’re in at all times.”
“Isn’t it hard to minimize the danger you’re in when you’re chasing criminals?” Pep asked.
Grant nodded. “We do our best, but obviously there’s always an element of risk.”
“Has anyone close to you died?” Pep asked.
“Pep, you can’t just ask stuff like that,” said Lark.
“Sorry,” Pep mumbled. Sometimes she was so curious about the academic question on her mind that she forgot about the people behind it.
“It’s all right,” said Grant. “Obviously in our line of work accidents happen. A couple of my friends have died fighting supernaturals.”
“That’s awful,” said Pep.
Lark and I agreed.
We stood silently for a while, surveying the scene in front of us as we thought about Grant’s experiences. We watched witches chatting with vampires, skeletons talking to other skeletons, and everyone keeping a careful eye on the le-haunts in case they got up to any mischief.
Everyone in my family was there except Uncle Taft; even Cookie was walking around delightedly taking glasses of wine and downing them. But the majority of the attendees were supernaturals who worked at the haunted house. Usually the house was open on Friday night, but we had skipped tonight both because of the party and in preparation for the SpookyBooSpectacular.
“Have you made any more progress on the case?” I asked Grant.
His eyes narrowed, then he smiled. “I think knowing that the bodies came from elsewhere is progress. As to who did it, no, we haven’t figured that out yet. When we do, I’m sure you’ll hear about it.”
“I’m sure you will soon,” said Pep.
“Let’s hope so,” said Grant.
Suddenly there was a noise like a clinking of glasses. We looked around and saw my mother gathering everyone’s attention by tapping her spoon on her goblet.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like everyone’s attention for a minute,” she said. “As all of you know, Meg is as beloved as a sister to me, and I want to thank everyone for coming out tonight in honor of her birthday. The weather is supposed to be horrible starting pretty soon, so I also want to make sure to offer birthday wishes and appreciation out loud before our guests start to depart.”
I glanced out the window to see a gentle patterning of rain already coming down. My mother had been worried about the rain all week, and now the prediction for the next day was for storms. Uncle Taft had warned that it would be the last night we ever saw.
“And now if everyone would join me in singing happy birthday,” my mom said.
And everyone did.
The rest of the night went by quickly, mostly because there wasn’t much of it left. People did start to leave early, and most of the supernaturals scattered. We all had a lot to do the next day and everyone knew it. Meg herself was just as happy to see the evening end. She did, however, sample every kind of cake. To Audrey’s delight, she declared them all delicious.
I wandered away from the conversations and toward the big dark windows. If I went all the way up to the top of the mansion, where we’d found Uncle Taft the other day, I could see to the village on a clear night. Sometimes I enjoyed going up there and watching the small town life come alive in the dusky evening. There was something calming about having a normal village nearby, when there was nothing normal about the mansion at all.
The skeletons had settled into a subtle silence for most of the party, standing off in a corner. Their anger had subsided somewhat by the time the party ended, mostly because Cookie had gone over and started chattering at them. I think they developed some sympathy for my family after that.
After we finished cleaning up, everyone departed for their own rooms. But I wasn’t tired, so I set off to wander by myself around the sweeping hallways and spooky rooms of the mansion.
Uncle Taft hadn’t made an appearance all evening, and I thought I’d run into him in my wanderings, but every space I went into was quiet and deserted. My mind was mulling over the case of the Skeleton Trio, wondering if it had been the Root of All Evil that had attacked them, or maybe someone motivated by a personal vendetta. Had the attack had something to do with the stuff they were stealing from the mansion, or had it been entirely unrelated?
I couldn’t be sure, but I was starting to think that the Skeleton Trio had been killed because they’d discovered something that someone else didn’t want them to know. Maybe they got in the way of a crime in progress, but I doubted it. If someone wanted to steal something from the mansion they could have done it at any time over the last several decades.
No, I had a feeling that the Skeleton Trio had been in the process of taking something when they’d gotten in the way of a very nasty gang.
They had paid a high price. The only question now was, what was the Root of All Evil going to do next?
Chapter Twenty-Three
After I got tired of wandering through the house, I trudged up to bed at last. It was on nights like tonight that I really missed my old room on the fourth floor, the one that Lizzie had stolen. Just one floor down, but it felt like a world away.
It took me a very long time to fall asleep that night. I kept worrying about the supernaturals and wondering what would happen in the morning.
At first I thought someone was rubbing my face with a fluffy duster, although that would have been strange since I was pretty sure there was no duster in the entire mansion.
“Get off, Cam,” I groaned. “Aren’t you too old for his foolishness?” I tried to push my little brother away so I could fall back to sleep. When the duster continued to tickle my nose, I carefully cracked one eye open.
“So you’re the culprit,” I said groggily.
Rose was sitting on my chest, wearing a frilly white nightgown and swatting at my nose with one white paw.
“Be careful,” I warned her, trying to sound dangerous. You can never be sure with a cat.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” said Rose. “It’s just fun.”
“Is there something I can help you with?” I yawned.
For a moment Rose rested on my chest, causing me to cough slightly as she made her way to my shoulder and plunked down again. Now her furry side was in my cheek and she started nuzzling my jaw.
I reached my hand up to pet her head and the purring in my ear sounded like an engine starting up.
“You just wanted to get petted in the morning, didn’t you?” I said.
“I figured you could have some company going down to breakfast. I know you tend t
o get lost on the way,” said Rose evilly.
I rolled my eyes. “That was one time. You’re just hoping you can have some bacon this morning.”
“Maybe,” Rose acknowledged. “Fried mouse would also be acceptable.”
“Gross. Is that really what you came all the way up here for?” I asked.
“No, that is not what I came all the way up here for. I came up to yell at you for going Down Below without me,” she explained, licking her chops. “Can you imagine how many mice there are down there?”
“I don’t imagine Fudgy Bail would appreciate you killing his mice,” I said.
“Does he think he owns the mice, too?” Rose asked incredulously.
“He thinks he’s a good businessman, and good businessmen don’t give anything away for free,” I said, thinking back to his comment about information. He thought he was telling me something vital and important by saying that the Root of All Evil isn’t in the basement, and I figured he’d expect an even trade sooner or later.
“You look pensive,” said Rose. “It’s not a look I’ve seen on you before.”
“Very funny,” I said. “Get off my shoulder. I have to get dressed.”
Rose moved just enough so I could sit up, then curled into the warm spot I had left, her back against my pillow and her eyes half closing.
“Do you think the Root of All Evil is part of the team that works at the haunted house?” I asked the cat.
She gave me that judgmental look that cats wear and said, “It’s the most likely explanation. Where else could they be?”
She had a point. “They could still be Down Below. Fudgy Bail could have been lying to us.”
“He could have been. Maybe he was trying to protect his own, but his associate did point out that they would have a hard time sneaking out of the basement without being caught.”
There was also the Spooky Times to consider. The newspaper bulletin had made it sound like they had no idea what had happened to the Skeleton Trio. It was just possible that only a couple of those supernaturals who resided in the depths of the mansion were responsible for the attack and the rest were in the dark.
Fudgy had insisted that he knew what went on in his domain, therefore he’d know if any of the Down Below crowd had done it. He had said they hadn’t. Could I believe him?
I really didn’t like the alternative.
I had thought I was going to be early to breakfast because of Rose, but I was wrong. By the time I made it to the kitchen, only Lark, Pep, and Cookie were still around. Everyone else had eaten and gone. Even Audrey wasn’t there.
“Morning,” I said. Cookie was standing at the counter pouring a cup of coffee, while Lark and Pep sat at the island polishing off muffins.
I went over to get some coffee just as Cookie poured the last of the batch into her mug, leaving none for me. She pretended not to notice and went to sit down, while I got a fresh pot brewing.
“Where is everyone?” I asked as I started to make more.
“The investigators are making a last-ditch effort to find the Root of All Evil,” Cookie explained. “Everyone else is working on last-minute preparations for tonight. We’re open an hour longer than usual, opening early, so we’re very busy,” she added as if we didn’t know it, taking a sip of coffee and smacking her lips in appreciation.
“You look busy,” said Pep.
“I’m old,” said Cookie.
“You don’t seem it,” said Lark.
“I don’t act it, either,” said Cookie.
“Are you going to be at your cauldron tonight?” I asked her.
“Of course I am. How will I discourage people from coming otherwise?” said Cookie. “But right now we have to talk about this case. Where is that foolish white cat?”
“Rose isn’t allowed in the kitchen,” I said.
“Poppycock,” scoffed Cookie. “She comes in here all the time.”
Just then a white head popped up from her usual place near the stove.
“Someone not named Audrey call me?”
“Yes, come down here,” my grandmother ordered, pointing one gnarled hand at the floor.
I hurried over to help Rose, but she jumped down from the cabinets in one swift motion before I could even get close. I gave a frightened cry in case she’d hurt herself, but she landed gracefully on the floor. I glared at her.
“What, I’m a cat,” she said.
“You know how many times your height that is?” I asked.
“Enough that you should be very impressed,” she said, swishing her tail.
“Yeah, exactly,” I said.
Once we’d gathered around the island, Rose on her own stool, my grandmother leaned forward and said, “So what do you know about this case?”
“We didn’t think you cared about this case,” said Lark. “We aren’t officially allowed to investigate it.”
“Yes, yes, yes, stop wasting my time!” Cookie snapped. “I heard you all getting scolded just like the rest of the mansion heard. You and I both know you’re investigating even if you’re not supposed to be. It’s the Garbo way. Now tell me what you know while we still have a few minutes.”
The three of us looked at each other in wonder.
“What’s she doing here?” Pep pointed to Rose, who was looking very interested.
“Why wouldn’t you want the smartest and brightest to help?” asked Rose, sounding confused.
“You mean the smartest and brightest cat?” said Lark. She wasn’t a big fan of the furry animals, though she didn’t dislike them as much as Audrey did.
“No,” said Rose.
“She’s here to help,” said Cookie with finality. “She can go places we can’t and observe stuff we don’t. I mean, you three don’t observe much of anything, but that’s beside the point.”
“Okay, we’ll start from the beginning, just stop insulting us,” said Lark.
“We can’t help it,” said Rose.
“It’s a sign of affection,” Cookie grumbled.
“Be less affectionate then,” said Lark.
We spent the better part of the next hour filling Cookie in on our investigation. At first her face remained impassive, but as time wore on she started to look more alarmed. It was the longest period of time I had ever seen Cookie pay attention to a single topic and not say anything sarcastic. That made me think she was really taking this seriously.
Cookie licked her lips as we talked, and her eyes shone brightly.
“What about the Root of All Evil?” I asked her. “Are they just a myth?”
Now my grandmother looked grim. “They aren’t a myth I’ve ever heard of before, but I imagine they’re real enough.”
“Why do you think they smashed the Trio?” I said.
Cookie shook her head. “Certainly not because the Trio represented all that was kind and good in the magical world.” She paused for a moment, thinking, then went on. “I would say your guess is as good as mine, but the truth is, it’s probably better. The Trio broke rules and were annoying. Those rules were in place for a reason, especially the one about not going out at night. Not all ghosts and vampires are warm and fuzzy creatures. Some are very dangerous. They appear fun and entertaining at the haunted house, but in real life things are different.”
“They are all dead, after all,” Pep murmured.
Cookie’s head bobbed. “Exactly.”
“So you believe that the Root of All Evil aren’t Down Below?” I said.
“I don’t know about that. Old Bail has plenty of reasons to lie,” she said.
“Like he wants to deal with it himself?” said Lark.
“That or maybe he’s part of it, or the simplest explanation of all, he just likes lying,” said Cookie.
“Don’t know anyone like that,” Lark murmured.
“What about what smashed them? We haven’t found anything big enough to do it,” I said.
“You didn’t find anything big enough on the grounds, but now thanks to Corey we know that they weren
’t smashed on the grounds,” said Cookie. She kept glancing over her shoulder and out the windows as if she very much expected my mother or Meg to walk in and start ordering us to get to work.
It was a real concern.
“There are tons of things in the house,” I mused. “Any of the heavier furniture would do. There’s so much, we may never figure it out.”
“Mom’s coming,” Lark hissed.
“We should try to figure it out, though” said Cookie quickly. “Everything might depend on it.”
For once, she was serious.
After that ominous conversation, we got to work. It did occur to me that Cookie might just be messing with us, that she enjoyed pulling our chain, so to speak.
But she really did seem to believe that the members of the Root of All Evil (what is this, a cartoon?) were a dangerous lot, and anything that threatened Cookie’s family (besides Cookie herself) had to be dealt with harshly. I decided to take her at her word for the moment, and concentrate on the tasks at hand.
“Stringing up fake cobwebs is actually one of my favorite jobs,” said Pep.
We were in the topmost floor of the haunted house, where a large circular window overlooked the front driveway. Through it we could see Cookie mixing ingredients into her cauldron.
Today she was surrounded by three black cats who liked to roam the property. Rose didn’t like them and they didn’t like her, and once that had been agreed upon they mostly stayed away from each other.
Cookie offered one of the cats something she was holding in her hand. The animal sniffed it, shook its head, and trotted further away.
“This is my favorite room in the whole house,” said Lark, slinging her fishtail over her shoulder.
The last room in the haunted house before you started descending stairs again was a library. Books would fly out at you, flung by whichever ghost was assigned the room that night. You’d hear howling, and at just the right moments bats would flash past the large window, though with rain coming, that was less likely to happen tonight.
We had been working in the haunted library for an hour or so when we heard footsteps on the stairs, and a moment later Cam appeared. “Lunch. Mom wants everyone to come so we can discuss finishing touches for tonight. She doesn’t think we’ll have time for a proper dinner.”
Spooky Business (Jane Garbo Mysteries Book 1) Page 18
