Deja Diva

by Kathi Daley

  My musings were interrupted when I heard Catherine cry, “Kitty,” a split second before she ran toward a skunk who’d come down to the lake for a drink.

  “No, not a kitty,” Zak said, letting go of my hand and jogging forward. He scooped her up to avoid a very smelly encounter.

  “Charlie, Bella, Digger, heel,” I said to the dogs before they had a chance to even notice Catherine’s kitty. The skunk had taken off after noticing us, but I wasn’t taking any chances, so I moved off the trail with the dogs to provide a wide berth. Maybe instead of worrying about Catherine’s academic career, we should spend some time teaching her the difference between a skunk and a kitty.

  Zak set Catherine back down as we looped around back toward the waterline. We paused at a tree that had fallen into the clear blue water, creating a pool of yellow aspen leaves that had drifted into the lake. Zak asked if the older kids were going to be home for dinner.

  “Alex went over to Phyllis’s and Scooter texted earlier to say that he was going over to Tucker’s after soccer, so I think it will be just the three of us,” I answered.

  “I was thinking about grilling out on the deck.”

  “I think an outdoor dinner under the orange lights you hung would be perfect. We can build a fire in the pit to ward off the chill. I want Catherine to see how the jack-o’-lanterns look when they’re all lit up.”

  “Speaking of jack-o’-lanterns, were you able to verify the shipment of pumpkins from the valley for the pumpkin carving contest next week?” Zak asked.

  I nodded. “It’s all taken care of. The pumpkin carving in the park is on the twenty-fourth, and the pumpkins are being delivered on the twenty-third. I also scheduled a group to come out on the twenty-third to set up all the booths for the kiddie carnival.”

  “It feels early to me this year, but I guess with Halloween on a Saturday, a lot of events are going to be held the weekend before.”

  I picked up a rock and skimmed it across the lake. Catherine tossed a rock into the water as Mommy had, but her rock just went plunk. “It is a bit different this year,” I agreed.

  “I can’t wait to take this little monkey to the kiddie carnival this year,” Zak said as he once again scooped Catherine up into his arms, which had her giggling.

  “Do it again, Daddy,” she pleaded after he set her back down on the ground.

  Zak scooped her up again, and this time he settled her onto his shoulders. We walked for another twenty minutes and then circled around back toward the house. As much as I loved it when everyone was home, and I had all my little chicks in a row, I also loved it when it was just Zak, Catherine, and me. Or even just Zak and me. I loved all my children more than I could say, but there were times I missed the days when it was just the two of us relaxing in the spa under the stars.

  After we returned from our walk, Zak made a fire in the outdoor pit while I bundled Catherine up in some warm clothes. We grilled chicken to go with the corn on the cob and fresh green salad Zak prepared, and then we turned on all the jack-o’-lanterns, so Catherine could enjoy the funny faces. After we’d put Catherine to bed, we settled in with a bottle of wine as we had the night before.

  “Did you ever find Marlow?” Zak asked. He knew I’d looked around while he’d grilled the chicken.

  “No. It’s not like him to leave the house, and I looked in every room at least a dozen times. I’ve called and called to him. He’s just gone.”

  Zak slid his hand across the small patio table between the two loungers we sat on. He took my hand in his. “I’m sure he’s somewhere. He’s never wandered off the property, so I doubt he suddenly decided to go on a walkabout.”

  “I thought the same thing at first, but the longer he’s missing, the more worried I become. What if he’s really gone? What if he somehow got out and became disoriented?”

  “Don’t give up,” Zak encouraged. “We’ll keep looking. For as long as it takes. Did you check the pump house?”

  “No,” I realized. “It never even occurred to me.”

  Zak got up and crossed the patio to the small building that housed the pump that serviced the pool and spa. I hoped for a brief minute he’d be there, but Zak called and called him, and he didn’t emerge.

  “I’ll help you look again in the morning. For now, let’s head in.”

  Chapter 4

  Catherine was thrilled that Daddy made pancakes for breakfast on Friday morning. He even used chocolate chips to make a happy face, which had her giggling with delight. Zak was going to work from home today, but I planned to drop Catherine at preschool and then head into town to do some shopping and check in with Hazel. With the Haunted Hamlet kicking off the following Thursday, I figured there would be a lot of last-minute details to go over. Marlow still hadn’t shown up, which had me frantic by this point. Zak promised to look around outside again once we got everyone off to school, and I supposed once I’d talked to Hazel, I’d drive around town and see if I could spot him. It didn’t make sense that he’d leave the property, but we’d looked everywhere, and by this point, I was convinced that he simply wasn’t here.

  “What are you up to today?” I asked Zak, more to make conversation than anything else. I knew he planned to work from home, and quite honestly, I usually wasn’t very interested in the details of whichever piece of software he was working on. I supposed my lack of interest made me a terrible wife, but that sort of thing just didn’t interest me the way it interested Zak and Alex and, at times, even Scooter.

  “I have some work to do for a software client,” he answered. “How about you? What are your plans for the day?”

  “I’m dropping Catherine at preschool, and then I’m headed into town to meet with Hazel about the Haunted Hamlet. After that, I’m going to check in with Jeremy and then continue my search for Marlow. I realize the fact that he has been gone so long makes it less and less likely that we’ll find him, but I’m not giving up.”

  “Did you sign my permission slip for the field trip next week?” Scooter asked, entering the kitchen from the hallway leading to the dining area.

  “It’s on the counter,” I replied. “Do you have soccer tonight?”

  “Just practice after school. We don’t have a game until next week, but I think I might head over to Tucker’s after soccer. I’ll probably spend the night.”

  “Will you text me and let me know for sure one way or another?”

  “I will,” Scooter agreed. He opened the refrigerator and took out a brown paper sack I’d noticed him loading up with fruit and sandwiches the night before. The boy was growing by leaps and bounds, and he seemed to eat his weight in food most days. “Are those peanut butter cookies gone?”

  “There are some in the freezer. If you take them with you, they’ll be defrosted by the time you get around to eating them.”

  He opened the freezer, took out a large plastic bag, and put the whole thing in his backpack.

  “Zoe,” Alex yelled from the front of the house.

  “Yeah,” I yelled back.

  “You need to come and see this.”

  I glanced at Zak, who shrugged. I got up from the table and headed toward the front of the house. The front door was open, so I headed in that direction. When I arrived at the front door, I found Alex holding an envelope. A photo of my missing cat was inside the envelope, and beneath the photo were the words: Where am I?

  “Where did you get this?” I asked, staring at the image of my baby who looked to be fine, but had been locked into a medium-sized animal crate.

  “It was lying on the front mat when I opened the door. I parked at this end of the drive last night, so I planned to just access my car from the front door.” Alex looked over my shoulder. “Where do you think he is? Who has him?”

  “I don’t know who has him, but I know where he is,” I said.

  “Where?” Alex asked.

  I focused in on the dilapidated house in the background. “Henderson House.”

  “That creepy haunted house where you
found that body a few years ago?”

  I nodded. Henderson House and I had a long history together. In fact, it was in the basement of Henderson House where I’d found my first body. It was this first murder that introduced me to the world of being an amateur sleuth. And it was the help Zak provided during and after the investigation that led to my falling in love with him. Since that first Halloween at the house, I’d spent two others on the same property, each leading to a discovery of a grisly murder.

  “We need to go and get him,” Alex said.

  “We will.” I headed back into the house to fill Zak in.

  Scooter offered to drop Catherine at preschool on his way to school since Alex insisted on coming to Henderson House with Zak and me. I wasn’t certain that bringing a teenager to a haunted house was the best idea, but Alex was a strong-willed young woman, and once her mind was made up, there was no changing it.

  My stomach knotted as we drove closer to our destination. The house and I had a history which led me to believe that the fact my stolen cat had been trapped there was no simple coincidence. My relationship with the house began when I was seven, and one of my classmates told me the legend of Hezekiah Henderson, a man who supposedly murdered and then dismembered over a hundred people. It was rumored he’d buried the body parts under the floorboards in the basement and then settled into a life of seclusion to maintain the spell he’d used to trap the souls of his victims in limbo for all time. Hezekiah died when I was nine, and for years after that, no one dared enter the creepy place, though as time went by, the rumors ceased, and vagrants began to use the building to ward off cold winter nights. Over time, the legend of Hezekiah Henderson and the haunted basement faded.

  Then, seventeen years ago, a group of counselors from a nearby summer camp decided to have a party in the old house. Before the night was over, four counselors were dead. Which brings us to seven years ago, when I found Coach Griswold’s body in the basement. That murder had had a very human explanation, but that didn’t stop a ghost hunter from coming to town six years ago to research paranormal activity in the house. He seemed to be on to some sort of a revelation until his body was found at the bottom of the stairs a few days later.

  But that wasn’t the end of it. Two years ago, I was called out to the house on an abandoned dog call, where I found a dog tied up in the basement. This led to the discovery of yet another body. This time, the man was a screenwriter writing a screenplay about a group of ghost hunters who visit haunted places. As part of his research, he’d decided to visit haunted places in the area, and Henderson House was about as haunted as they came.

  “This feels like a trap,” Alex said in a tone that clearly conveyed worry.

  “It might be,” I agreed, “but I can’t just leave Marlow there.”

  “Maybe we should call Salinger,” Alex said.

  “I already did,” Zak joined in. “He was out on a call, but he agreed to meet us at the house.”

  The house I remembered was set back from the parking area. It was old and dilapidated with two floors, an attic, and a basement. Once we arrived, all I could do was stare at the structure that seemed to have become as much a part of my Halloween traditions as the haunted barn and spooky maze.

  “Where do we start?” Alex asked, clearly nervous now that we’d arrived at our destination.

  “I guess we head inside and look around,” I said.

  Zak turned to look toward the back seat. “You wait here,” he said to Alex. “If we get into trouble, we’ll call you, and you can get help.”

  I could see that she wanted to argue, but she didn’t. Zak and I got out of the truck and headed up the rickety steps to the front porch. We tried the door handle, which gave easily. We decided to start at the top and work our way down, calling out Marlow’s name as we went. We looked around as we carefully made our way up the stairs.

  “Let’s check each room on this floor, and if we don’t find him, we’ll try the attic,” Zak suggested.

  I nodded, taking his hand. I was happy Zak was with me this time. During my previous visits, I’d been alone.

  As was our plan, we made our way from room to room, searching the second story and then the attic. When evidence of Marlow was not apparent, we headed back down the stairs to the main floor. Alex called Zak for an update, insisting we keep the line open, so I talked her through the whole thing as we walked from floor to floor. I could remember doing the same thing with Ellie the first time I’d been to the house. Of course, as I’d mentioned, I’d been alone then and was much more terrified than I was now that Zak was with me.

  After we searched the main floor, we headed toward the basement. I really expected that this would be where we’d find my sweet kitty, but the space was empty.

  “The barn?” Zak asked.

  I nodded, took his hand, and headed back up the stairs. When we emerged from the house, Alex ran up to greet us. When we headed toward the barn, she followed.

  Like the house, the barn was dark and dusty. There was a hayloft overhead with half-rotted stalls below. The ladder leading up to the loft looked even more rickety than the stairs in the house, but a tiny meow sent me running toward them anyway. I tested my weight on the first rung of the ladder and then headed up. The crate with Marlow inside looking madder than I’d ever seen him was in the middle of the loft. I ran to him and squatted down. I was about to reach for the latch to let him out when Alex called out.

  “Wait!”

  I froze. “Wait for what?”

  “I think the crate might be booby-trapped.”

  “Booby-trapped?” I asked.

  She nodded as Zak joined us after successfully navigating the rickety ladder despite his added size and weight.

  “There’s a wire running from the handle down into the tray at the bottom,” Alex said.

  At first, I couldn’t see what Alex was looking at, but after a closer examination, I noticed the black wire she’d been referring to.

  “It looks like the locking mechanism might be rigged,” Zak agreed, kneeling down beside us.

  “Rigged?” I asked. “What do you mean, rigged? Are you saying that if we open the crate, it will explode?”

  “I’m not sure yet, but it is a possibility,” Zak said.

  “What do we do?” I asked. “I can’t just leave him here.”

  Zak looked at Alex. “Go back down and call Salinger again. Tell him what’s going on. Tell him to get here.”

  “Okay,” she agreed, before scrambling back down the ladder.

  “So we just wait?” I asked, feeling bad for my poor cat who was crying and scratching at the sides of the crate by this point.

  “We wait,” Zak said, although I also noticed a frown.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  He slowly pulled on a corner of what looked to be an envelope tucked under the crate. There was a note in the envelope. The note had a phone number with instructions to text the number when the note was found.

  “Should we?” I asked.

  Zak’s lips tightened. “No. We wait for Salinger.”

  I wasn’t thrilled about waiting, and poor Marlow was having a fit, but I supposed waiting did make the most sense. “What’s that?” I pointed toward a blinking blue light that hadn’t been blinking before.

  Zak’s lips tightened even more.

  “It wasn’t doing that before,” I added.

  “I guess pulling out the envelope activated something. Probably a timer,” Zak said.

  “Timer?” I gasped. “Ticking down to what?”

  “I’m not sure,” Zak answered.

  “How long?” I asked, my breath catching in my throat.

  Zak stared at the light. “I’m not sure, but the blinking is getting faster and closer together.”

  “We can’t wait for Salinger,” I said.

  Zak looked undecided.

  “We can’t leave Marlow,” I began to cry. “We need to do something.”

  Zak seemed frozen in indecision, which really wasn’
t at all like him.

  “The note said to text the phone number written on the page. Send the text,” I demanded.

  Zak hesitated for another split second and then sent the text.

  Zak received a return text, telling him to access a panel beneath the crate. Zak lifted the crate and held it steady. I looked beneath.

  “What do you see?” Zak asked.

  “There’s a locking mechanism much like you’d find on a lockbox. It has four digits.” I looked at Zak. “Which four digits do we enter?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Should we just start trying numbers?”

  “No,” Zak said. “A wrong guess might set off the bomb, assuming there even is a bomb. All we know for certain at this point is that there’s a blinking blue light.”

  “Send another text. Ask for further directions.”

  I tried to calm my howling cat while Zak sent the text. While he waited for the return text, he decided to move the crate over to a small ledge where we could rest the weight of the crate while giving us better access to the panel on the bottom. I couldn’t help but stare at the little blue light as it continued to blink faster and faster.

  Zak’s phone dinged. He looked at the display. “The person on the other end of this phone line is asking for our four-digit passcode for the safety deposit box at the Ashton Falls Community Bank.”

  “The box someone tried to break into?” I asked.

  He nodded.

  “Give it to him,” I said. “It’ll be useless at this point since the bank manager isn’t going to let anyone access the box without both an ID and the code. He knows someone unauthorized tried to get in, and he knows what we both look like. He’ll be on the lookout for anything hinky going on.”

  Zak hesitated just a minute, but then he typed in the passcode. “I guess when we’re done here, we can call the bank and let them know what’s going on,” he said.

  After the passcode had been sent, he sent a second text asking for the code to open the crate. My heart raced as we waited for a reply. The blue light blinked faster and faster. The faster it blinked, the faster my heart pounded. The phone finally dinged, and Zak had the code.