Had Adelaide hidden the book inside Daisy’s vault? Weren’t these things sealed?
I pushed on the top just in case. The scratchy sound of concrete grating against concrete answered the question as to whether or not they were sealed. I pushed harder, not sure that I actually wanted to look inside but knowing that I had to. Now would be a great time for Adelaide to pop up and give me some guidance.
“What are you doing?”
My heart leaped into my throat. I whirled around to see Striker standing in the doorway.
“Please tell me you haven’t turned to grave robbing.”
“Very funny. Come help me push. I need to see what’s inside here.”
“Inside? Probably a dead person. What are you looking for?”
Good question. I couldn’t tell him about the spell book, but I didn’t want to lie outright, so I fudged it. “I saw Josie come out here and thought maybe she was hiding evidence.”
“In there?” Striker frowned at the vault. “And how did you see Josie? Are you spying on her?”
“How did you see me? Are you spying on me?”
“I had a funny feeling you would do something stupid tonight. Turns out I was right.” Striker sounded frustrated—I assumed with me—but he stepped closer and pushed on the cover.
The top slid a couple of inches. Striker pulled out his flashlight and aimed it inside. I took a deep breath and looked in, expecting to see the top of an old casket. Apparently they didn’t use caskets one hundred years ago in the mausoleum, because inside were the remnants of a tattered dress, ivory-white bones, a skull looking up at me in a silent scream. No book.
“So much for hiding it with favorite relatives,” Striker muttered.
“Huh?” Had he said something? I was still reeling from looking at the decayed corpse and didn’t quite catch what it was.
“I don’t see any evidence in there, do you?” he said.
“Oh. No,” I said. “Maybe we should check the other—”
Voices outside cut off my words. “Shhh.” I grabbed Striker and pulled him into the shadows. The voices grew closer.
“Are you following me?” a young woman hissed.
“No. What are you doing out here with that flower, anyway?” A young man.
“Leaving a white rose for my great-great-grandmother. It’s her death day, and it’s a family tradition. Not that you need to know about family traditions, because if I have my way about it, you won’t be hanging around my sister for very long.”
That explained the white roses and what Josie was doing out here. It also explained Evie’s nighttime trip, but what was Brian doing out here? Looking for the book, or maybe making sure Evie didn’t get her hands on it?
Brian laughed. “Well, luckily you don’t have any say in who Julie dates. You don’t have her under your spell anymore, Evie.”
“We’ll see about that. I’m not going to stand by and let you …”
“Hiss!” Pandora stood at the door, her back arched, hairs on end.
“Hey!” A white rose fell to the ground just outside the doorway.
“Meow!” Pandora let out a loud wail.
“What are you doing in here, Kitty?” Evie swooped down, trying to grab Pandora, who jumped out of the way, hissing and spitting. “Come here, Kitt—”
She glanced up, stopping mid-sentence, her eyes narrowed as she scanned the interior of the mausoleum. I shrank back against the wall, but it was no use. She homed in on Striker and me, her forehead creasing as she picked up the fallen rose and stood. “Just what are you doing in here? Aren’t you the people who were accusing my mom yesterday?”
“We weren’t accusing, just asking,” Striker said.
Evie stuck her hands on her hips. “I don’t think I like you poking into Hamilton family business.”
“I’m the sheriff. It’s my job to poke.”
Evie turned to Willa. “And what’s your excuse?”
“My gram was friends with your gram.” I shrugged, hoping that would be enough of an excuse.
Evie’s face softened. “She was?”
I nodded.
Evie walked slowly to the vault and laid the rose on top. In the dark light with the lone candle flickering, her pale skin and dark hair made her look eerily like some sort of vampire or witch. I moved closer to Striker.
“My mom didn’t kill my gram. There’s more to this than meets the eye. Forces at work you two wouldn’t understand.” Evie turned toward the door. “Where is that cat?”
Where was the cat? I looked around the small room, but she was nowhere to be seen. I reminded myself not to worry—Pandora could take care of herself.
Striker wasn’t worried either. He’d reverted to sheriff mode. “Did you see anyone near your grandmother’s room the morning she died?”
“No, I was asleep. I heard Aunt Marion’s wheelchair, and then I heard her screaming.”
“Was anyone acting odd, or did you see anything unusual?” Striker asked.
Evie snorted. “The whole family acts odd, but if you ask me, Julie’s boyfriend, Brian, is up to something.” Evie jerked her head toward the door, and I realized Brian wasn’t out there. He must have taken off when Evie came in.
“Why do you say that?” I asked.
Evie’s face turned rueful. “I can tell he doesn’t really like Julie. He’s after something, but I can’t convince her of that. That’s okay. I have other ways to show everyone what he’s really made of.”
“Do you have any proof that he’s up to something?” Striker asked.
“No, just a feeling,” Evie said. “You still didn’t explain what you are doing in my family mausoleum.”
I expected Striker to say something official, but when he didn’t, I came up with the first thing I could think of. “Chasing after my cat. She ran in here.”
Evie made a face. “What was your cat doing in my yard?”
“Umm… she got away.”
“Right.” Evie looked at me skeptically. “I’m not sure what you are up to, but you better tread carefully.” She turned to Striker. “And unless you have a warrant, I think you need to get off the property.”
She stood back and pointed to the door. I didn’t mind leaving. I’d already seen what I came to see. Striker and I exchanged a shrug then headed out. As we walked across the field back to our cars, Pandora darted out of nowhere and fell into step beside us.
I had mixed feelings about our visit. I hadn’t found the book, but I’d learned something more about the Hamilton family. Evie suspected Brian was up to something, but she had ulterior motives, which made me wonder…was he really up to something, or was she just telling us that to use him as a scapegoat to cover up her own involvement?
21
Striker’s police car was parked behind my Jeep on the dirt road. I was hoping to escape without him asking any more questions, so I quick-stepped it to the Jeep and hauled open the driver’s door. Pandora prevented me from hopping in right away by scooting in herself, and by then Striker had caught up. He put his hand on my arm and held me back.
“Not so fast.” He pulled me gently from the door and shut it. “What were you really doing in there?”
“I told you. I followed Josie in there and thought she might be hiding evidence.”
“Really? Then how come you were trying to pry open the vault on one side when Josie had clearly been at the other vault with the white roses on it?”
“I was going to pry all of them open. I didn’t know which one she would have stashed the evidence in.”
A white mist appeared to the left of Striker, and I had to struggle not to sigh and roll my eyes. It figured that Adelaide would show up now. Luckily Striker appeared to be deep in thought, his gaze looking off at something behind me.
“Honestly, Willa, I heard you were good at this sort of thing, but you couldn’t prove that to me. You haven’t found the book yet,” Adelaide said.
I waved my hand for her to go away, but instead of Adelaide disappearing, my
gesture caught Striker’s attention. “What are you doing?”
“Mosquito.”
To my amazement, Striker’s eyes drifted to follow something over my shoulder, almost as if he actually saw a mosquito.
“It’s not in the mausoleum. How the hell would I put a book in there, anyway?” Adelaide rolled her eyes. “Do you think I could open one of those vaults?”
This was frustrating. I really wanted to talk to Adelaide and see if she could give me something more specific about the spell book, but I had to get rid of Striker first. He looked as if he was frustrated too. Probably at me. Maybe if I turned the tide and started interrogating him, he’d get mad and drive away, and I could talk to Adelaide in peace.
“What were you doing in the mausoleum, and don’t give me that lame excuse that you were following me around.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “I bet you think there’s evidence in there, don’t you?”
“Evidence? Yes, there could be.” I was surprised he admitted that, but I wasn’t sure he even realized what he’d said. He seemed distracted. Looking directly past me, he gritted his teeth and said, “But I didn’t find anything.”
“Of course you didn’t find anything. The book isn’t in there.” Adelaide shook her head at Striker then turned back to me. “I don’t know why you picked this young man. He seems to be quite daft.”
Striker wasn’t going anywhere. I had to think of another way to communicate with Adelaide. Maybe I could word things in such a way that she would know what I was talking about and wouldn’t sound totally weird to Striker.
“If you could tell me exactly where it was, we could have this solved pretty quickly,” I said, raising my brows at Adelaide.
“I told you. It’s with Daisy.” She tapped her index finger on her lips. “Now if I could only remember where I put that painting.”
“It’s in the library!” I blurted out.
“There’s evidence in the library?” Striker asked.
“No. Did I say that? Well, there might be something in there.” Shoot, I was really screwing up.
“Not that painting,” Adelaide said. “The one in her blue satin gown...” Adelaide’s voice trailed off, and she looked off in the distance, past Striker’s shoulder. “Oh, Willa, please help me. I feel my Louis is slipping away.”
“ …if I knew where.” Striker was saying. I hadn’t been paying attention to him, but I assumed he said he’d get the evidence if he knew where it was.
“Yeah, if only we knew where the evidence was, this mess would all be over and we could go back to normal,” I agreed.
Striker frowned, his eyes tracking something that moved from his left to behind me. The mosquito? He shook his head. What was wrong with him?
“Louis is getting even closer. I can feel him near. You have to hurry, Willa!” Adelaide sounded desperate. If only she knew how badly I wanted to find that stupid book and have this all over with.
Striker grabbed my shoulders and moved me to the side with my back up against the Jeep. “This is ruining our relationship.”
“You’re telling me.” I glared at Adelaide.
“Maybe when this is all over, we can finally be alone to pick up where we left off.” Striker stepped closer. His left palm on the roof of my Jeep, his right cupping my chin, his thumb tracing my cheek. “Or maybe we could start now.”
He leaned in, brushing his lips against mine. My eyes fluttered closed then flew open as I felt the cold, clammy mist of a ghost. Was Adelaide watching us? Creepy. She stood just behind Striker, a smile across her lips, and she gave a curt nod and then disappeared.
At least she had the decency to leave us to our private moment. Unfortunately, Adelaide had been as vague as usual. But I had gotten one concrete clue. Now I knew she’d hidden the book in a painting of Daisy. Not the one in the library, but another one. All I had to do was locate it. The logical place for a painting of a Hamilton family ancestor was inside the Hamilton mansion. I just hoped I hadn’t already worn out my welcome.
Pandora thumped her tail on the front seat of the car as she watched Willa and Striker trying to ignore the ghosts of Adelaide and Louis swirling around them. She would have found the way they were trying to ignore their respective persistent ghosts amusing if she weren’t in such a hurry to get back to Willa’s so she could sneak over to Elspeth’s barn and tell the cats of this new development.
While she waited, she mulled over the new clue. She now knew where the book was. Inside the painting of Daisy Hamilton in the blue dress. But where was the painting? It wasn’t in the Hamilton house, nor was it buried in the yard in front of the cottage. She was sure of this because if the book were there, the cats’ combined efforts the other night would have revealed its location.
She cast a tentative glance toward the cemetery. The mausoleum was empty now, but she had felt something evil there earlier, and now she had a pretty good idea who was trying to obtain the spell book. If Striker and Willa would just hurry up, she could bring this information to the cats and find out if one of them had any new information that would help them figure out where the book was.
She turned her attention back to the humans, scrunching down and using her telepathic skills to will them into breaking up their little tête-à-tête and leaving.
Louis was trying to communicate the same thing to Striker that Adelaide had just told Willa. The spell book could be in a painting. He didn’t have the details of whose painting, but he knew Adelaide had hidden things in special compartments attached to the wooden stretchers in the back before. Too bad Louis had no idea where the painting was either. And it tugged at Pandora’s heart that the two ghosts, Adelaide and Louis, could sense each other but were on different planes and could not connect, even though they were standing right next to each other!
By the way Willa and Striker were now mashing their lips together, Pandora could see they were having no trouble connecting. She was glad to see them together, but there were much more important things going on, so she amped up her telepathy in order for them to get a move on. She knew from past experience the two of them could keep up the lip mashing for quite some time, and there was no time for that now. Both Pandora and Willa had important work to do.
22
The last time I’d gone to the Hamilton mansion, I’d been lucky enough to slip in along with Striker, so I hadn’t used up my I-lost-something-here excuse. The excuse had seemed like a great idea at the time, but now that I was standing in front of the big oak door, waiting for someone to answer, I wasn’t so sure. Maybe I should’ve taken Pandora’s advice, as she seemed hell-bent on stopping me from coming to the Hamiltons’, doing everything from coughing up a hairball to puncturing a hole in my shirt with her razor-sharp claws. But before I could turn and run, the door opened.
John, the butler, stood in the threshold, blocking my entrance. “You again.”
I didn’t let his sour attitude faze me. “Good morning. I seem to have lost something here on one of my previous visits. Do you think I could come in and look? I’m pretty sure it slipped off my wrist when I was sitting on the sofa. It’s a bracelet that my grandmother gave me.”
His brow wrinkled with skepticism. “Perhaps if you describe it, I will go look in the sofa for you.”
“No, I’d really rather—”
“Who is it, John?” Josie’s voice rang out from the hallway. John stepped back so she could see me, and her eyes widened.
“Oh dear. You better let her in.” Josie nibbled her bottom lip as if my presence made her nervous. What was that about?
John pushed the door wide and jerked his head toward the hallway in an apparent invitation for me to enter, which I did quickly before Josie changed her mind.
“I lost my bracelet in the drawing room when I was here the other day,” I explained to Josie, although she appeared to be more than willing to let me in anyway.
Josie frowned, and her gaze slid to John. “Right. Of course. Follow me.”
I followed her down the hall slowly, m
y eyes flicking to each painting, my stomach sinking lower and lower as I realized none of them were of Daisy in the blue gown.
We came to the door of the sitting room, and I had no choice but to go in. Josie was already in there, waiting anxiously.
I headed over to the off-white linen sofa. “Sorry to intrude, but the bracelet was my grandmother’s. The catch is loose, so it probably slipped off and fell behind the cushions…” I heard a scraping and clicking sound and turned around to see that Josie had pulled the pocket door shut, closing the room off from the hallway.
“I know why you’re really here.” She stared at me with dark, accusing eyes.
Nerves fluttered in my belly. Josie could be a killer, and by the way she was looking at me, she seemed to think I’d come for a reason other than to retrieve my bracelet. Had Evie told her about our run-in at the mausoleum? If she really did kill Adelaide for the spell book and thought I had discovered something, I could be in big trouble. Was that why Pandora seemed so intent on keeping me from coming here? I’d thought she was just mad that I wasn’t bringing her. My gaze flicked nervously to the closed door. She could do anything, and no one would know.
“No, really, I was just looking for my—”
“Cut the crap.” She walked toward me. “I know your boyfriend sent you.”
“My boyfriend?”
“Yeah, that hunky sheriff. He sent you to get more information out of me, didn’t he? He thinks a woman would seem more sympathetic. I know how you people work. You think I killed my own mother, don’t you?”
I probably should have tried to persuade her that we thought no such thing. Probably should have lulled her into believing I was no threat and then bolted out of there, but my big mouth got me into trouble, and I blurted out: “Well, your story is a little suspicious, especially since we’ve verified with the ME that your mother was already dead at the time that you say you checked on her.”
Probable Paws (Mystic Notch Cozy Mystery Series Book 5) Page 13
