Spooky Spider Page 8

  She said that last bit while glaring at the owl, who ruffled his feathers.

  “Let’s get going then,” said the great creature. “You might have all night, but we don’t.”

  “Very well,” Cookie agreed.

  The four of us stood in a line. We were closer to the cliff than I was really comfortable with, but since we were about to hop off of it, I supposed it was necessary.

  “Are we ready?” Lark demanded. “At the rate we’re going it’ll be sunrise before we even get out of here.”

  “Everybody get ready,” the owl ordered. As he spoke, five more owls rose up: the absolute best way to fly. First class.

  One owl would fly in front of us, guiding the enchantment, and another would stay behind us in case anything went wrong. Not that they could catch us if we plunged into the ocean, but they would be able to correct any flying technique errors we made en route. And of course we also each had an owl of our own to follow.

  The whole enterprise was awkward, as it usually was, since owls never thought witches were very good at flying. In fact, I thought we looked ridiculous.

  Behind us, several lights were on in the mansion. Cookie had told us to leave the library and kitchen lights on to make it look like we were at home. Somewhere in there was Evangeline, and a couple of ghosts drifted in the upper windows of the haunted house. No matter what time of day or night, someone was always at work in the haunted house.

  At least the place didn’t look deserted; Cookie had done a decent job of getting it ready for our absence, which if all went well would be brief anyhow.

  I took a deep breath and looked in the other direction, out over the ocean. Dusk had faded into dark and the moon had risen. White pebbles of cloud scudded over the midnight sea and waves rippled gently in the breeze.

  A shiver ran down my spine. It wasn’t a warm night. Cookie threw the broom she’d been holding to the ground and adjusted her goggles.

  “Let’s go,” she said. “Reach out to your owl.”

  Four owls rose up, one in front of each of us.

  “Now say the basic flying enchantment after me: ‘To the breeze.’ Focus on the wings and focus on the enchantment.”

  As I followed Cookie’s instructions, Rose jumped onto my shoulder and perched there. I leaned my head toward her and asked if she was secure, and she said she was. When she’d been a kitten she used to jump on my dad’s shoulder and go riding, so she was actually far more comfortable doing this than I was. That memory made me think about my dad and hope he’d be proud. Then I told myself to concentrate on the task at hand to make sure he had something to be proud of.

  In no time at all, the four of us were airborne. My breath caught as we soared and dived. We flew along the coast, never out of view of it but not too close, either. Hopefully no one was stargazing tonight.

  Cookie was in the lead, with the biggest owl guiding her. The others had split up amongst the rest of us.

  “This is the most fun,” said Rose in my ear. “I’d forgotten how much I missed it!”

  I gulped and tried not to look down. The air was cold in my face, and I was near panicking.

  We were flying at night and trusting Cookie because my mother was far enough away that it would have taken us a long time to get there by car. This way we would arrive quickly and ask her to come home.

  “Over there,” Cookie pointed as the wind rushed past us. Through a line of trees I could just see lights winking.

  I knew that my family was staying at a motel along the coast. They had gotten in touch the day before to say that they were using the motel as a base of operations while they hunted for the Root of All Evil. I assumed the lights Cookie had pointed out belonged to their base.

  With a sigh of relief, I felt us turn toward the shore. The owls were confident in their route, and in the end they got us to our destination effortlessly.

  My mother was not pleased to see us. In fact, she was furious. She just kept muttering angrily, “The Vice Chancellor,” over and over again.

  Aunt Meg had a similarly poor reaction. “If I’d known he was coming, I would have redecorated,” was her comment.

  “For the murder?” Cookie asked. “That almost makes me feel guilty.”

  Aunt Meg gave her a deadly stare.

  “None of this can be fixed now,” said Cookie, staring back with matching determination. “You might as well come back with us. It would seem that the Root of All Evil is closer to the mansion than to this rundown motel,” said Cookie.

  “We’re coming back immediately,” said my mother, shifting effortlessly from fury to practicality. “But please tell me the Vice Chancellor isn’t staying with us.”

  “He most certainly is not,” said Cookie irritably.

  I was relieved that nobody asked me any questions. I was further relieved that nobody said anything about Down Below. Not even Cookie mentioned that Jefferson Judge had gone missing.

  For now, that little mystery would remain mine alone.

  The guys were all out hunting and would return to the mansion in the morning. Lizzie had watched us arrive at the motel, but so far she had remained silent. At least she knew better than to ask Cookie for flying lessons.

  My mom had rented a car, so she, Meg, and Lizzie would be driving back. Since we wouldn’t all fit in the car, Lark, Pep, Cookie, and I were going to have to fly again.

  My mother looked like she was ready to argue, but Cookie was insistent. She pointed out that owls didn’t do well changing flyers mid-trip, so there was no way someone else would be able to fly back with one of the owls who had brought us to the motel.

  Before long we were soaring through the cold air again.

  Back to the scene of the murder.

  Also known as home.

  Chapter Twelve

  A dark figure wearing a jaunty hat and flapping cape awaited us. Grant was standing on the back lawn.

  He was furious.

  He had come looking for us at the mansion not long after we’d left, and Evangeline had met him at the door and explained where we had gone and how we had managed to leave undetected.

  He said he would have sent deputies to get my mother if Cookie had wanted him to, but she hadn’t breathed a word. Now he saw the game we had played against him in order to leave without his knowledge or permission.

  When we got back, Grant told us all this without softening his anger in any way. Evangeline had told him that this was a typical example of how we operated. No one in the history of history had been able to keep up with the Garbos and their antics, was what she had actually said, and Grant had told her that he had to keep an eye on us for our own safety and he hoped we understood that.

  Evangeline had gone home with a shrug, her duty done.

  Once Grant was finished, we all trudged into the mansion, properly chastised.

  Mom was still furious with us as well. Since they’d been about to come back anyhow, and we knew it, she insisted we should just have waited for them and not risked whatever disaster might have happened with all of us away.

  “No one comes on or off the property without my permission,” she said when the initial tirade was over. “Cookie, you aren’t under any circumstances to open the door. The rest of you: I do not want her left home alone. We are going to make sure there’s always someone with her.”

  My mother’s face was filled with hard lines. I had never seen her look so stern. When I tried to argue with her she was too busy fuming to listen.

  We got to bed very late that night.

  Mom told me not to rush to get up in the morning. We weren’t to leave the mansion again, so we’d have plenty of time to do chores whenever we woke up.

  I was blissfully asleep when a rustling woke me up. At first I thought it was Rose, who always slept in my room. Then I realized that the noise I was hearing could only have been made by a bigger creature than the white cat.

  It turned out that Cookie had snuck into my attic bedroom as I slept. She had never been up there bef
ore, and I was a little surprised she even knew where it was.

  “You have to go talk to Orwell. He needs to be interviewed when the investigators aren’t around. Slip away during the haunted house. Take Rose with you. She’s the only one who won’t be missed.”

  Pep worked the gift shop when the haunted house was open, while Lark helped Meg with the decorations. Usually I sold tickets, but on the quieter nights I wasn’t always needed. There was a chance I could sneak away without notice.

  I nodded and Cookie went off about her business and let me get dressed.

  “We need to find out more about Jefferson Judge,” I told my cousins. It was lunchtime after a freezing cold morning. No, I don’t mean temperature-wise. We had already started the fires for fall, so the air was toasty warm.

  No, the deep freeze was just my family being angry with us. My mom had made Grant go through every detail of the investigation before she would sleep. She also told him they’d do a follow-up interview the next day after she’d thought of the rest of questions she wanted to ask him.

  She had done an enchantment to see exactly what had happened after Blu’s murder was discovered.

  Seeing Cookie and me relaxing on the stoop had sent her ranting again. If I had thought about that ahead of time I would never have done it.

  Then Mom had said that she didn’t have time for sitting that day, and neither did anyone else in the family.

  When Kip, Corey, and Cam came trudging home that morning, Corey immediately went to check on his experiments in the barn. Kip started work in the supernatural stables. Cam was surly because his haunt hunting goals had been interrupted.

  Left to our own devices, Lark, Pep, and I went outside to eat lunch at the picnic table. I put on a hat and warm gloves to protect against the late autumn cold. It was hard to get away from one kind of cold or another, but at least being outside would allow us some privacy to talk about what had been happening.

  “Do you think Grant will share information about his investigation with us?” Pep asked.

  “I highly doubt it,” I muttered into my pasta salad. I didn’t think Grant was likely to share anything with us ever again.

  “How are we going to talk to Orwell if Grant is mad at us and we aren’t allowed to leave the grounds?” Pep asked.

  “You aren’t going to talk to Orwell or leave the grounds. Only I am,” I said.

  “Tonight while the rest of us are busy?” she asked, looking disappointed.

  “You aren’t going without us,” Lark said.

  I didn’t even bother to argue with Lark, because I knew I’d lose in the end. Talking to Orwell wouldn’t get us any further on with Jefferson Judge, but it would be a start on Blu’s murder. Maybe we could still get the jump on Grant, though I wasn’t very hopeful about that.

  “I don’t like it,” said Pep, sounding disgruntled.

  No one bothered to reply.

  “On my way out here I stopped in the mailroom to see if there were any notes for us from Down Below. I found this, addressed to you,” said Lark. She set a small envelope on the table.

  “Who left it?”

  “I have no idea.”

  I tore open the envelope and found a folded piece of paper. Unfolded, it revealed one simple sentence: “The old woman knows where he is.”

  “Is this message trying to implicate Cookie? Are they trying to say that Cookie lied to us?” I said.

  “She lies to us all the time. We don’t need a mysterious note to tell us that,” said Lark.

  “Is there a signature?” Pep asked.

  “There is no signature, but they have to be talking about Jefferson Judge, don’t they?” I said.

  “It’s apparently supposed to be a clue, but what use is it if we don’t know to what? Maybe it’s a clue to the Blu murder,” Pep mused.

  “They might be right, though,” Lark offered. “Maybe they’re saying that someone knows where the murderer is.”

  A sudden gust of wind nearly took the paper out of my hands. Once I got it safely into a pocket, I spent the next several seconds fighting with my brown curls to get them back under control in the freshening breeze. Giving up in the end, I pulled my hair tighter around my ears and just tied it there.

  “Is there any chance they’re talking about the Root of All Evil?” Lark wondered.

  “You think Cookie knows where Mirrorz is and she isn’t telling us?” I gasped.

  “I doubt it. If she knew where he was, she would have gone and attacked him herself by now. She isn’t exactly one to sit on her laurels,” Pep observed.

  “True. She’d be fighting him single tooth and nail,” Lark joked.

  “It’s time you three got back to work,” Meg yelled angrily out the back window.

  I nodded to Meg, then asked Lark and Pep, “Think Grant is still debriefing Mom?”

  “Probably not. I imagine he told her as little as he could, then got out of there. When your mom is mad, it’s best to leave her alone,” Pep said sagely.

  We spent the rest of the afternoon preparing the haunted house for the night’s public session. The supernaturals were milling around, seeming more agitated than usual, but for the most part we didn’t see them during the day, Mr. Blacksmith included. He might show up from time to time being competent and ingratiating, but mostly he tried to stay in the dark.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Late that night, when it came time for me to find Orwell, I knew I’d have to sneak away very quietly. My mom already knew I was up to something. She’d seen Cookie whispering in my ear, a sure sign that we were about to do something she wouldn’t like. She’d be on extra high alert, and I’d have to be extra careful not to get caught.

  Before I left I busied myself making finishing touches to the haunted house. I thought I was alone as I focused on the mechanics of delivering confetti.

  “Hey,” said a familiar voice behind me. I was so startled I nearly threw a bucket full of black confetti into the haunted house in one big lump.

  Grant strolled up next to me with a grin, amused at having surprised me.

  “Hey,” I said, trying to compose myself.

  Grant still didn’t know the Jefferson Judge case existed, and I intended to keep it that way. But I hoped he’d tell me something more about Blu.

  I took a deep breath, expecting that Grant would still be mad at me over the whole disappearing act. It wasn’t even fair to entirely blame it on Cookie; we had all agreed to go, and we had all known it was against Grant’s orders and wishes.

  Now he glanced at me, keeping his face stern as if he knew exactly what I was thinking. He planned to torture me about it, so from his point of view it was all good.

  I waited for him to say something first. It was safer. I certainly wasn’t going to be the one to bring up the whole flying thing.

  “I thought I’d come and see how you were doing,” he said, falling into step next to me as I headed to where the next bucket of confetti had to be placed. The house was due to open soon, and I had to hurry. Glad that he understood, I led him through the creepy rooms, which in a few minutes would be a whole lot creepier.

  “I’m fine. Do you have any more information on the murder?” I asked, deciding the direct approach was best.

  “We’re working on it. It’s been a busy day, but we’re not any closer to finding out why Blu was murdered,” he said.

  “You don’t think it was because someone wants Cookie dead?” I asked.

  “That’s still a possibility.” He was more guarded with me than he had been yesterday. I felt bad for lying to him by omission, but I didn’t have a choice if I was going to investigate at least one case on my own.

  “Pretty sure it’s a certainty,” I added. “Oh, that isn’t what you meant.”

  I blushed as Grant chuckled. “When we find out who killed Blu, I’ll make sure your family is the first to know. Cookie deserves to have some peace of mind.”

  “She sure does,” I agreed. “When you figure out how to get that for he
r, let me know.”

  “I’ve always thought Cookie was very content living here with her family,” said Grant.

  I had reached the point where the last bucket of confetti needed to be left. Later a le-haunt would come to the chute and slowly feed the black confetti into it to make a black snowfall in the forest below the spot where we were standing. It had been another of Meg’s brilliant ideas.

  Once I finished with my task, I led Grant out of the haunted house.

  “Cookie would much prefer that we weren’t here to plague her,” I said.

  “Are you sure about that?” Grant asked. He actually sounded surprised.

  I bit my lip. Yeah, I kind of was, but on the other hand, I didn’t want to burst his bubble, since he seemed to believe that Cookie loved us more than I thought she appeared to. So I kept quiet.

  “Are you staying for the haunted house tonight?” I asked.

  Grant shook his head. “Not with the murder case yet to be solved. Besides, I got a slower start today than I meant to.”

  He was too polite to say that my mother had kept him from doing any actual investigating with all the questions she’d demanded answers to.

  “Very well. Thanks for checking on me,” I said.

  Grant didn’t move. He was looking at me with an expression I couldn’t quite understand.

  “You aren’t going to try anything funny tonight, are you?” he said.

  I raised my eyebrows and hoped that I looked innocent. “What are you talking about? I’m working at the haunted house tonight.”

  A slow spark appeared in his eyes and started to kindle, and he nodded his head slowly. It was clear that he didn’t entirely believe me but didn’t want to say so out loud. “Very well. It was a shock to come by last night and see that other woman here.”

  “Evangeline? She was nice enough to keep an eye on the house while we were out,” I said.

  “She said as much after she said that you’d gone off flying after I asked you to stay in. I would say that I’m jealous, but I don’t want to encourage you,” he added.

  “Jealous of what?”