After a moment’s pause, he said, “All right, I guess there’s no harm in calling to see if he’s free. The more the merrier, I suppose. To be honest, I wouldn’t mind hearing some of his stories.” Mr. Morrow winked. “I bet he has some pretty unbelievable tales to tell.”
Fairday felt her shoulders relax as she realized she had just managed to defuse her father’s fears and, in the same breath, buy the DMS a little more time. Giving her dad a peck on the cheek, she thanked him and headed back into the room. Shutting the door behind her, she turned to face her friends. Marcus and Lizzy were waiting anxiously to hear what had happened. She felt confident they would agree with her plan to include Larry Lovell. Either way, she had a phone call to make.
“H’llo?” the familiar, grumbling voice answered four agonizing rings later.
“Mr. Lovell, it’s Fairday Morrow,” she said with a shaking voice, and it suddenly dawned on her that she had no idea what to say. Would he think she was completely mental if she just blurted out what was going on? Fairday could feel a static energy in his silence and right away knew Larry Lovell understood; something was wrong.
“What is it? Do you need my help, Miss Morrow?” His tone was sharp and alert.
“Yes,” she breathed down the line. “It’s Ruby Begonia. We…I mean, we, um…we have her.” The words seemed to catch in her throat, as she heard an intake of breath from the other end.
“I’ll be right there,” he responded. “Wait for me, Miss Morrow, and”—he paused—“beware.” She heard a click and the connection was broken.
It was decided that Lizzy and Marcus would remain in the room to keep watch over their prisoner while Fairday waited downstairs for Larry Lovell to arrive. She stood at the top of the grand staircase, shifting from foot to foot while staring down at the double doors. Auntie Em was snoozing in her favorite spot, snoring away as if nothing had happened.
After what seemed like forever, there was a loud knock: bang, bang, bang. The pug jolted awake and barked as Fairday flew down the stairs as fast as she could, wanting to make sure she was the one to greet him. She knew if her father got to him first, he would keep Larry Lovell chatting for the rest of the night.
Just as Fairday reached the door, Mr. Morrow popped his head out of the kitchen. Casually wiping his hands on a dish towel, he sauntered over and asked humorously, “Now, who might that be?” He flung open the doors and extended a friendly hand. “Why, hello there! You must be Mr. Lovell.”
How was she going to get him away from her father now? Time was ticking, and she knew they wouldn’t be able to hold Ruby Begonia for much longer without causing a scene. Lizzy and Marcus must be freaking out by now, she thought as she tried to catch the attention of her visitor.
Larry Lovell was standing in the entrance wearing a long trench coat. His hat was tilted to the side as he leaned on his cane. He reached out and shook Mr. Morrow’s hand. Clearing his throat, he grumbled, “Humph. Yes, hello, I’m Larry Lovell.” But at that instant, his eyes met Fairday’s, and she could see the sharpness of intent twinkling behind his wire-rim glasses.
“Well, Mr. Lovell, it seems my daughter is quite eager to know more about you.” Mr. Morrow opened his arms in a welcoming gesture as Larry Lovell walked into the foyer. Fairday couldn’t help but notice Mr. Lovell’s wide-eyed expression as he took in the old house. “Why don’t you come and sit down? Dinner won’t be ready for a little while, but I can certainly brew up some coffee while you fill us in on—”
Larry immediately interrupted in a very grandfatherly voice. “Hmph, hmph. Mr. Morrow, thank you for inviting me over. I would love to sit and chat with you and your family.”
Fairday’s heart sank at his words. Was it possible she had been wrong about him? Their entire plan relied wholly upon the belief that somehow, he knew they needed him. Hadn’t he cautioned her on the phone when she told him they had Ruby Begonia? Desperate to get him alone, she was about to blurt out something like “Dad, can I show him my bedroom?” which would sound totally absurd and surely blow her cover. But to her relief, he quickly added, “Actually, if it’s all right with you, sir, I would love for this young lady here to give me a tour. I have always found this home to be quite fascinating.” His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled up at Mr. Morrow.
Mr. Morrow unconsciously ran his hands through his messy black hair, clearly trying to decide whether it was a good idea. Finally, he shrugged and in a light voice said, “Well, okay, why not? The construction’s done for today, so go ahead, Fairday. Give ’im the grand tour.” He glanced up at Larry’s hat, adding, “Would you like me to hang up your hat for you?”
“Nope, if that’s all right.” Larry tapped his hat, then mumbled, “Never take it off if I can help it. Cold air gets into my noggin, and I’m shiverin’ all night. Besides, I don’t like people goggling at my bald head.”
Fairday smirked. He really did seem like such a surly fellow, but she knew it was just a mask and that behind his wrinkled exterior, his mind was as sharp as a tack.
Mr. Morrow watched as Larry Lovell slowly ascended the grand staircase. Fairday followed him as he gingerly took each step, using his cane and hanging on tightly to the banister. She turned and gave her father a wistful smile, which he returned with a farewell wave of the dishrag.
The instant Mr. Morrow was out of sight, the crotchety man struggling to get up the steps suddenly quickened his pace. He lifted his cane and bounded down the hallway, taking long, easy strides all the way to the door at the end. Fairday couldn’t believe her eyes! She had to trot just to keep up with him. He really did play the part of the grumpy curmudgeon well.
When they reached the door, he stopped and turned to face her, his blue eyes sparkling. “I must thank you, Miss Morrow.”
“Thank me?” Fairday asked. “Thank me for what?”
“Thank you for giving me the opportunity to find out what went on in this house. It’s been a mystery I’ve wanted to solve for many, many years.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, and she opened the door.
Fairday rushed into the room with Larry Lovell close on her heels. She had wanted to point out the mirror as they passed by it but knew there were more pressing issues at the moment. Lizzy and Marcus looked up in surprise, and Fairday could tell from their expressions that they were feeling the pressure.
“How is she?” Fairday asked.
“Very unhappy, as far as I can tell,” Marcus responded with a grimace. “She’s been clawing the armrest to pieces and mumbling to herself.”
Lizzy began to explain, “We, uh, left the sheet on her because we had no idea if your dad would be with you, Fairday.” She glanced up uncomfortably, adding, “Um, hi, Mr. Lovell—sure glad it’s you. By the way, I’m Lizzy, and this is Marcus.” She indicated Marcus with a wave of her arm.
Larry briskly nodded, tipping his hat to both of them as he strode across the room. Fairday’s brain was whirring as he approached the concealed figure. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she hurried to follow him and, with nervous fingers, whipped off the sheet with one great swish, exposing their captive.
Ruby looked wretched. Her face was set in a scowl and her skeletal fingers had scratched out long trails in the armrests of the chair. Shifting her dark eyes upward, she met Larry Lovell’s gaze. And just for an instant, an unseen current of static electricity seemed to spark between them. Suddenly, Ruby’s wrinkled face pulled back into a sneer as she spat out, “It’s you!”
“You know each other?” Lizzy asked.
Larry replied, “To be honest, I’m…I’m not sure. You said you had Ruby Begonia, but this”—he hesitated—“person looks nothing like the girl I once knew. How did you manage to tie her up like this?” he asked, eyeing the writhing ribbons holding her prisoner.
Fairday began to explain about the blueprints and the spell that Marcus had used but was interrupted by a drawling, raspy voice.
“We certainly do know each other,” Ruby hissed, straining against the ribbons holding h
er down. “Just because you don’t recognize me in this hideous state does not erase the past!”
Quickly turning to face Fairday, Larry asked her seriously, “How can you be sure your captive is, in fact, Ruby Begonia? Do you have any concrete proof?”
Ruby’s lips turned up in a crude leer. “You need proof that I am indeed Ruby Begonia?”
“Yes, I think that’s in order. Wouldn’t you agree, Miss Morrow?” Larry asked.
Fairday jolted to attention, startled by the sound of her name popping up. “I…uh…well, yes, I think we should have some proof that you are who you say you are,” she said, her voice rising in confidence at Larry’s approving nod. Lizzy was mouthing, “Yes, yes, definitely.”
“Very well, Larry Lovell.” Ruby drew out the syllables as she spoke his name. “Do you remember when we were children and you were accused of stealing a loaf of bread from Bigford’s Grocery?” She casually leaned back into the cushions, her black eyes holding his. “Who was it that came to your rescue that day?”
In stunned silence, he stared at her. Fairday felt like she was on pins and needles, the energy in the room pulsating at a heightened frequency as they anxiously awaited his response.
His face softened around the edges, and when he spoke, it was in earnest. “It was you, Ruby Begonia. I have never told anyone about that incident.” He paused, then asked in a confused voice, “Why, then, are you acting so hateful toward me?”
“You are the reason I have been trapped up here for all these years! I have been a prisoner, lost between reality and time, destined to be alone for what has felt like an eternity! It was you, Larry Lovell, who padlocked the door at the end of the hall!” she accused him.
A dawning expression washed over his face and he exclaimed, “That was your voice I heard that day?” He shook his head in disbelief. “My God, I never knew.”
“This is killing me!” Marcus shouted. “Will someone please let us in on the big secret already? I can’t stand the suspense any longer!”
The sudden outburst broke through the thick wall of tension that had built up, and Lizzy let out a deep breath, her face relaxing as she shot Fairday the “thank God someone said something” look.
“Do you remember the article we discussed, Miss Morrow?” he asked.
“ ‘The Missing Bride’?” she answered.
“Originally, that article was intended to cover the magnificent wedding scheduled to take place. But after the bride went missing, the headline unfortunately changed.” He cast his gaze downward, adding, “I was there—the day you disappeared. I covered the story.” His eyes met Ruby’s once again, and he cleared his throat. “Twenty years later, I covered the death of your father, Thurston. A few months after the tragic incident, I was driving past the Begonia House and noticed the gate was ajar. I drove up to the house and found the front door open as well. ‘That’s odd,’ I thought, and decided to have a look.”
“Yes, yes! Finally getting there. Remembering everything clear as day now, are we?” Ruby muttered. “Not a very good day for you, though, was it?”
“No, no, it wasn’t.” His expression turned grim as he added darkly, “I came very close to dying that day.”
“And it’s more of my bad luck that the tree didn’t succeed in dragging you to your death.” Ruby glowered at him.
“The willow?” Lizzy asked.
“Yes,” Larry replied. “That wicked willow almost took my life.” He paused, then added, “But it did take another life, didn’t it, Miss Begonia?”
Ruby hung her head at his words and began to weep.
Fairday remembered thinking the willow tree could have killed Thurston Begonia. Had she been correct in that assumption? Thoughts spiraled madly around in her head. Suddenly, a ringing bell went off in a distant corner of her brain. Her internal alarm system was beeping incessantly, reminding her that it wouldn’t be long before they had to sit down to a perfectly normal dinner. Would the DMS be able to figure it all out in time?
The sound of Ruby’s choking sobs silenced the bell going off in her head, and Fairday turned her attention back to the present. She knew this situation had to play out at its own pace. All she could do was pray there would be enough time left to come up with some sort of genius plan that would leave them safe and enable her to explain everything to her parents.
Ruby looked up from underneath matted gray hair and whispered through clenched teeth, “I tried to warn him. I tried to save my father, but I was too late. I watched as the branches threw him to the ground below. I heard his bones snap when he hit.” The icy words fell from her lips.
A crucial piece of the puzzle had just fit into place. Larry had told Fairday that Thurston’s death had gone unsolved all these years. Now only they knew the truth about how he had died, though she highly doubted any of them would ever report it to the authorities. Besides, what court of law was going to send a tree to jail, even if it did prove to be deadly? But why did it murder him? What kind of evil magic was needed to cause a tree to rip apart anyone who looked down on it? That wasn’t completely true. It had only attacked when the brass key had been used. She remembered her father opening the door to the balcony, and they had both peered out and nothing had happened. The willow didn’t so much as shift in the breeze. So the willow trying to grab them definitely had to do with the brass key. The scribbled note on the back of the picture read: Beware the tree when you use the key. Her racing thoughts on the subject were cut short as Marcus spoke up.
“So it was the willow that killed Thurston Begonia?” Marcus asked.
“That appears to be the case, yes,” Larry replied.
“And it almost got you too?” Marcus asked again, his eyebrows raised.
“Yes, it almost got me too,” Larry answered. There was a moment of tense quiet as he removed his glasses, wiped the lenses clean, and adjusted them back onto his face. Clearing his throat, he said, “So now, where was I? Ah, yes! After Thurston Begonia died, I came back to the house out of curiosity. The police were done investigating and the home had been packed away, except for a few scattered pieces of furniture here and there. I was standing in the empty foyer when I heard strange music coming from somewhere upstairs.”
Fairday’s heart skipped a beat. He had heard it too! Lizzy shot her a startled look, then nudged Marcus in the side.
“It sounded like someone playing the bagpipes, though the notes were somewhat off,” he added thoughtfully. “I followed the music up the spiral stairs and into this room. But there was no one there. Suddenly, I realized I could no longer hear the music and thought perhaps I had been imagining things. So I decided to poke around for a bit.”
Larry began to pace back and forth. He scratched his chin thoughtfully, clearly trying to remember all the details of that fateful day. With each contemplative step came a click of his cane connecting dully with the wood floor.
“I poked around for some time, and when I turned to leave, I noticed a key hanging from the lock on the other door. Naturally, I walked over to investigate. I turned the key and stepped out onto the balcony. Leaning over the railing, I tried to get a glimpse of the spot where Thurston’s body had fallen, and at that instant, the willow sprang to life. Its twisted branches were glowing blue, growing right before my eyes and rising up to where I stood. Faster and faster, they extended upward, one after the other. Sharp twigs pierced my skin as they began to wrap tightly around my body, scratching and ripping through my clothes.” He was motioning furiously with his hands, reenacting what it was like to be trapped inside a tangled web of angry, probing branches.
“That is one scary willow,” Marcus said.
“I struggled to pull myself free and finally managed to escape from their clutches!” he exclaimed, yanking an invisible limb off his chest. “Then I slammed the door and shut them out.” The air in the room was very still as all present reflected on their own feelings regarding the murderous willow tree.
“What then, Larry? Tell them what you did next,” Ruby s
aid acidly. Her crooked mouth coiled into a horrible grimace as she shot daggers at him with her eyes.
He seemed unsettled as he replied, “I…why, I ran, of course. I ran out to my car.”
“But you didn’t drive away, did you? No! You chose to come back and meddle in things you couldn’t possibly understand. I watched as you padlocked the door. I watched as you sealed my fate.”
“How…how was I to know you were trapped somewhere in this house?” he stammered, sounding baffled.
“I screamed for you to stop!” she bellowed. “I yelled with all my might. I made the walls amplify my voice a hundred times—it shook the floors. It rattled the paintings!” Her chest was heaving as she glared menacingly up at him.
“I remember. I was scared half to death,” he responded gravely. “I had no idea that was your voice. I…I’m not sure what I thought it was.” Larry shook his head. “I was beside myself after the tree tried to kill me. So much so that I mustered up the courage to come back in here and padlock the door to keep out curious trespassers, like myself, who would find themselves in a whole heap of trouble with that willow. Just as I was fastening the lock on the door, I heard a terrible cry. The whole house seemed to shriek at me to STOP! I hurried to secure the lock, then fled, and I have never been back since….” He paused. “Until now.” He peered at them from behind his glasses. His story seemed to weave around them like a sticky web. “I knew that I would never tell anyone about what had happened. Who in the world would ever believe such a far-fetched story?”
Fairday understood exactly where he was coming from and suddenly felt incredibly lucky to have Lizzy and Marcus on her side, witnessing everything right along with her. Having third-party confirmation really helps when you’re trying to prove to someone that you’re not completely mental.
The Secret Files of Fairday Morrow Page 15
