Spooky Scarecrow

by Addison Creek

  “Never know until you try,” said Cookie cheerfully.

  Mom rolled her eyes.

  The gates of the mansion swung open. Despite the fact that the watching gargoyles were made of stone, I had the distinct impression that they moved.

  I sucked in my breath. The Jaguar was beautiful, a hum of silver purring into the driveway.

  “Wow,” said Lark, materializing while we were all staring out the window. She had put on some makeup and rubbed some sort of gel in her hair.

  Cookie glanced at her and nodded approvingly. “We might marry you off yet,” she said.

  Lark rolled her eyes.

  We waited while someone got out of the car, then Cookie stepped forward. Not waiting for the doorbell to ring, she opened the front door and stepped out.

  The rest of us stood behind in the foyer, not moving for a few long moments. Then Mom went haltingly after Cookie.

  “We can’t very well leave them out there by themselves,” muttered Meg. She too hurried after the family, and the rest of us followed.

  I glanced over my shoulder once to see if Pep was coming, but there was no sign of her.

  Lark was already outside and I rushed to keep up.

  We needn’t have worried. The Jaguar had paused at the end of the driveway, as if considering whether it wanted to proceed. As we gathered on the front stoop, the car slowly rolled forward. I had the impression of a great animal stalking its prey. Hey, the car was named Jaguar, after all.

  Cookie was the matriarch of the family even if she had mostly abnegated her responsibilities in favor of mayhem. Now I glanced to her to see how she was taking this slow-moving visitor. Her back was razor sharp and her eyes were fixed forward. She did not look the least bit concerned.

  “Everybody be nice,” she said to us.

  “You’re one to talk,” muttered Meg.

  The car pulled up. The wind had died down and the sun was peeking through the clouds. The engine shut off and no one moved. The sun only got brighter, to the point that I was squinting.

  We waited.

  Then the driver’s side door, which was on the far side from us, opened.

  At first all I saw was a dark head. Then it was followed by a tall and powerfully built man. His hair was slightly long and perfectly tousled, a very dark brown or black, I couldn’t be sure. He was wearing a black leather jacket over a black shirt, along with black-framed sunglasses. He stood for a moment, gazing around the property, then turned toward us.

  The passenger side door also opened, revealing another man of about the same age with a brightly colored shirt on and long hair pulled into a ponytail.

  The second man glanced at us and gave us an awkward smile. He was skinny and awkward, with bright green eyes.

  When the man in the black leather jacket turned our way, I could see that his jaw was square and set. He did not look amused. He was even taller than Grant, and I found myself wishing even harder that Lizzie had been able to bring His Majesty of Magic back with her.

  “Morning,” said the awkward one.

  The other man glanced at his companion for only a moment, then went to the back of the car and opened the door. He pulled out an ornately decorated box and brought it straight toward Cookie. Meg and my mom shifted nervously. Cookie never moved.

  I wished I could see her face.

  When the man arrived with the box, he reached it out to her. “From one ancient family to the next. We come in peace until the texts are changed to demand war.”

  He bowed slightly and offered the box to Cookie.

  She took it. I was amazed by the strength she must still have in her arms.

  “Greetings, Dorian Deadly. You are most welcome at Haunted Bluff. Until such time as I deem it necessary to push you off the cliff.”

  The man took off his sunglasses to reveal gray eyes so bright they looked silver.

  He grinned.

  Back in the foyer, we stood still for introductions. Cookie went through them rapid fire and pretended to forget Lark’s name. Dorian’s eyes sparked again with amusement, but there was something dangerous behind them. And about these men in general.

  Dorian was focused, but also clearly taking in his wider surroundings. What he saw was a place that Mr. Blacksmith had cleaned up considerably since he’d taken over after the departure of our previous butler. All the lights in the chandelier were working, and he’d gotten rid of the dust in the corners that had been there for decades. I was pretty sure Cookie had had him save some of it for sentimental reasons, because Cookie was crazy.

  As for me, I took some pride in the house. I knew Dorian’s drive through the black iron gates would have been imposing. Our cat family crest would have greeted him from the top of the house as he arrived, and I hoped he was ready to take our position seriously.

  Time would tell.

  The younger gawking arrival was introduced as Joel, Dorian’s assistant. He bowed low and mumbled something about being at everyone’s service. Cookie’s face brightened and she wondered if he might make her a cup of tea. Joel looked so flummoxed that everyone laughed.

  Except for Dorian.

  He only smiled.

  “We were expecting your father,” said Mom, trying to regain control of the situation and to see just how much trouble we were in.

  “My father didn’t want me to come,” said the tall man. “He did not want another of his sons in danger. But I convinced him that I was better than a representative. It was my brother, after all. Besides, what Devin and Dean were involved in caused a lot of problems. I’m sure that the forces that went after them will not feel the same about me.” His voice was deep and seemed to come from a cavity in his chest that mere mortals did not have.

  “Mr. Deadly always did know how to run a business. Maybe you should have listened to him,” said Cookie.

  “He might have known how to run a business. This is family,” said Dorian. “Whatever my brothers were mixed up in didn’t have anything to do with business.”

  “How can you be so sure?” Mom asked.

  As we chatted, Joel had gone back out to the car and was bringing in bags. It appeared that Dorian traveled light, but Joel was having trouble walking on the floor without slipping. Lark went to help him and his face turned bright red.

  “We kicked them out a couple of years ago,” said Dorian, ignoring the movement of luggage. “They disappeared for a while. They were intent on making their own way. They only resurfaced recently. Are there accommodations for us? It’s been a long drive.” He quirked one dark eyebrow at his assistant. Joel tried to stop and stand up straight and just barely managed it.

  I thought it was odd that Dorian bothered to ask about accommodations when Joel was already bringing in their things, but no one asked for my opinion, so I didn’t offer it.

  Anyhow, Mr. Blacksmith now appeared and said, with a nod to Cookie, “The rooms are ready.” If you didn’t know Mr. Blacksmith was a vampire, he could almost pass for a human.

  Almost.

  “Thank you,” said Cookie. “They’ll be in the north wing. The fire is lit?”

  “An hour ago so that the room has had a chance to warm,” said Mr. Blacksmith.

  “No one has stayed in there in years,” said Mom.

  “We don’t have any other free rooms at the moment,” said Cookie.

  “I’m sure whatever you have is fine,” said Dorian.

  “What is all this chattering! I’m trying to concentrate!!” Pep came down the hall from the gift show, looking like she was fixing for a fight, her fierceness undercut by a streak of bright red paint traveling down her nose.

  Everyone turned to stare at her, but she had clearly lost patience with everyone and everything and didn’t stop to pick up any cues. “I’m trying to run a business here! My numbers for the month are already going to be way off because we’ve been forced to close! The least you all can do is have the decency to be quiet while I’m trying to work!” she shouted.

  Dorian stepped forward.
His face had gentled in a surprising way and his eyes were bright. “Do forgive us, good lady. We have only just arrived, and we were discussing my family. I thought all of the Garbos were present and did not realize that we were causing a disturbance.”

  I had to hand it to him, this guy was charming. I didn’t get the butterflies I did when Grant was nearby, but I could see how he could be very popular with the ladies, and very persuasive.

  Pep apparently did not have those blinders on; she merely scoffed. Clearly she was in no mood for pleasantries with anyone, even vaguely threatening strangers. I made a mental note to steer clear of her for the rest of the day.

  “Sure. Your family and life is more important than mine. So sorry that you came all this way just to . . .”

  Pep had finally noticed the motion Lark was making, trying to get her to shut up.

  “Did you say family?” she asked Dorian.

  “Yes, he’s one of the Deadly brothers,” said Cookie chirpily.

  Pep’s eyebrows rose slightly. The Deadly brothers were known in the supernatural world for being, well, deadly. Despite the fact that this one was currently standing placidly in our foyer, I had no doubt that he was almost as dangerous as Cookie when her wine bottle was taken away.

  “Dorian Deadly. At your service.” He gave a slight bow to Pep.

  Jolted out of her angry stupor at last, she only managed to look a little confused.

  “Your brothers were killed? That’s why you’re here?” she asked softly.

  “I’m afraid so,” he said. “At least that’s what we’ve been told. We would like to see the bodies for ourselves.”

  “I’m a monster,” said Pep.

  “Always known it to be true,” affirmed Cookie.

  “I apologize for my senseless rudeness. I’d be lost without Lark,” said Pep, even more softly.

  “You two are sisters?” Dorian asked, looking between them. He had picked up on what was obvious to everyone: they looked nothing alike.

  “Yes, and they had the same father, so don’t start,” said Meg threateningly.

  “All right, I think our guests have gotten enough of an up close look at how our family behaves. I’m going to show them to their rooms,” Mom said.

  She turned on her heel, and Joel picked up the bags and scurried after her. Dorian smiled again at Pep, who didn’t smile back. Then he turned and headed after my mom.

  Once they were out of view Meg said, “This place is so busy! Even when the haunted house is closed we still have visitors. How am I ever going to get anything done?” She went back toward the kitchen.

  I watched as everyone moved off, then rolled my eyes as Joel took one look at Steve, who had appeared out of his closet, and howled in fright.

  “Silence!” Dorian turned metal eyes on his companion. “Haven’t you ever seen a skeleton before?”

  “No,” said Joel.

  Dorian looked slightly surprised but recovered deftly. “I guess you haven’t. This is a real, live haunted house. If I were you I’d get used to seeing supernaturals. There are plenty of ghosts around as well.”

  Joel swallowed audibly. “Comforting.”

  “Let’s get you to your rooms,” said my mom. “I’m sure you’d like to clean up and rest. We can all have dinner together, if you don’t mind.”

  Chapter Eleven

  We followed my grandmother into the library. I had some reservations about giving her so much power over us in this situation, but we didn’t appear to have a choice. She closed the library door firmly behind her and made for the chair closest to the fireplace before any of us had figured out what she wanted.

  Once she had claimed pride of place she said, “Okay, now, who is going to help me with the decorations?”

  Lark groaned.

  “I have to go Down Below,” I said.

  “You can do that after dinner and you can take Dorian with you. I want everything to be transparent with that man,” said Cookie.

  “You want me to go down into a basement filled with career criminals with a career criminal whom I don’t know or trust?” I glared at my grandmother.

  She shrugged. “Take Pep with you. Lark, you stay up here and keep an eye on that Joel. It’s always the funny ones that cause the most trouble.”

  “Next you’re going to tell me that Joel was the murderer,” I muttered.

  Cookie shrugged. “We don’t know who the murderer was. Good thing we have a detective in our midst to find out.”

  “I’ll do my best,” I assured her, my chest suddenly filling with pride.

  “I was talking about Grant, but you can help too,” said Cookie.

  Lark covered her mouth to hide a snicker. I glared at my cousin.

  “You walked right into that one. She’s right, though. You and Grant will have to work together again. Given how early he was out the door this morning, he’s probably gotten a head start.”

  “What did you call us in here for, anyhow?” Lark demanded, glaring at Cookie.

  “I called you in here so that we could discuss recent events. The Deadlys are no laughing matter. If they think we killed two of their sons, it will be war,” she said.

  “Good thing we didn’t,” said Lark dryly.

  “I would have to agree. I just wanted to make certain,” said Cookie.

  We looked at her to try to figure out if she was joking.

  “What?” she demanded.

  “Of the four of us, you are most definitely the one most likely to commit murder,” Lark pointed out.

  “I suppose that’s true,” Cookie agreed.

  The three of us continued to look at her.

  “I didn’t do it. Honest,” she said.

  “Okay. We believe you. For now,” said Lark.

  Even Cookie had the good sense to look troubled.

  Dinner that evening was going to be quite the affair. I had a feeling that Grant had heard that even more guests had arrived at the mansion, and I imagined he wouldn’t be thrilled. Then again, Grant was known far and wide, a magical mafia family couldn’t possibly worry him more than anything else did, could it?

  I dressed carefully for dinner. Lark was planning to do the same. She didn’t think Dorian Deadly was her type, but you could never be certain on such short acquaintance.

  I put on a sequined black top and black jeans and stuck my feet into my favorite pair of ankle high boots. I thought I looked kind of badass, and I didn’t mind. If we were to venture Down Below later, it was just as well to project the right image.

  Rose came strolling in while I was getting ready. Cats didn’t always have facial expressions, but it was pretty clear from Rose’s prancing that she was feeling smug.

  “I like the new guests,” she commented.

  I stopped. “You leave that tall fellow alone. He’s a Deadly, which means he’s dangerous.

  “What about the awkward hamster?” asked Rose.

  “Joel? That’s his assistant. He seems harmless,” I said. “Hamster?”

  Rose gave a wolfish grin. “He doesn’t like cats.”

  I shook my head. “Why do you torture him? You don’t like water and we don’t threaten you with it.”

  “If you ever bring any more than a dollop of water anywhere near me, I will never forgive you,” Rose threatened. “Anyway, water for cats is serious business. I can’t help it if he saw me and started sneezing uncontrollably. I wasn’t even doing anything wrong.”

  “For once,” I said. “Let’s go to dinner. Try to keep the number of sneezing fits you cause to a minimum.”

  “I make no promises,” she said, and we made our way downstairs.

  Tonight was one of those nights when I didn’t want to be bothered running into Lizzie trying to look cute, so I took the secret passage. At the bottom of the stairs I could hear banging on the other side of the door that connected the passage to the kitchen. I knocked hard and the door opened quickly.

  I was expecting Aunt Audrey, but that wasn’t who was standing there. Instead it
was Grant.

  “Hello, delicious,” said Rose. Audrey glared at her and she quickly scampered back into the dark passageway.

  “That cat is too cocky for her own good,” said Audrey, going back to the pie she was baking.

  “Evening,” said Grant. He was wearing a collar! He usually just wore black, but tonight he had put on a deep blue button down shirt.

  “Hey,” I said. “You look nice.”

  “Thank you,” he said. “My friend convinced me I needed to buy this shirt and I listened. It’s a color.”

  I grinned. “That’s exactly what I thought,” I said. “Friend?”

  “Yeah, a friend I was in school with. He’s in Arizona now, but he’d like to visit someday. I told him not to come to Maine in the winter unless he wanted to ski.”

  I stepped out of the drafty secret door and into the warm cozy kitchen. As usual, the space smelled incredible. Audrey seemed to outdo herself every night.

  “Audrey, how do you manage to create such beautiful meals?” I asked.

  Audrey laughed. “Cooking is my happy place. I’m just lucky that I have a big enough family to eat everything I want to make. If I didn’t, a lot of food would go to waste,” she said.

  “You never get tired of it?” Grant asked.

  “Do you get tired of investigating?” she asked.

  Grant thought about it. “Some days when I’m tired I’d just rather stay in bed,” he said. “Also sometimes when it’s very cold out. On the whole, though, I wouldn’t say I get tired of it, no. I love what I do.”

  “So do I,” said Audrey. Then she got down to business. “Since you two are here, why don’t you take some of these platters into the dining room? I don’t want to keep our guests waiting.”

  As Grant and I walked to the dining room carrying the platters, he turned to me and said, “Have you spoken with your mother?”

  I blinked and stopped short. No, no I had not spoken with her. I swallowed hard. He could read the answer on my face. Instead of looking upset or disappointed as I feared he would, he smiled at me.