Aria in Ice (32 page)

I ground my teeth and said, less than
politely, “Auraliah? Miz Lee. Beg pardon, but get on with what? You
said we’re not going to have to endure, I mean enjoy, a repeat of
last night’s dip into the world of the undead. So, no offense, but
why in hell are you here?”

Her overly arched and dyed black eyebrows
shot into her forehead. “Oh my. Don’t tell me ah haven’t said?”

Shay finally found her voice. “We hate to
tell you, but it’s a mystery to us.”

“Well, dahlin’, that’s exactly why ah’ve
come. Mystery.” Her smile dimmed. “No, that’s puttin’ it pohly.
Sadly, there’s not just mystery, but danger. Terrible danger. Ah
couldn’t make it yesterday in time to help that poor Trina, but
then, sometimes ah’m not supposed to save the innocent. But tonight
ah’m here to give a warning.”

“Who exactly is in danger?” I asked, stilling
my breathing and willing my voice to talk without cracking. I knew
damn well who was in danger but somehow needed this bizarre
godmother to state it before I’d truly believe it.

“Oh, Hon, I thought that was cleeah. You are.
Bad danger. You’all be all right if you can work out the details
about the flute, but if not, well, ah guess ah’ll just be chattin’
with you in this room again sometime in the future, but you won’t
be with me, or anyone else, except in spirit.”

I let my breath out in a huge whoosh. Yep.
Abby Fouchet’s name was next on the hit list. Even though I hadn’t
figured out where the flute was or where Ignatz was buried. It
didn’t matter. Even if I had somehow divined the whereabouts of the
flute, if the killer assumed I was as greedy as he or she and that
I’d keep this treasure for myself, I was looking at a quick dip in
an icy moat without a paddle. I was most definitely in danger no
matter what I knew—or didn’t know—at this point.

All the fear I’d managed to squooch way
inside me this past day came barrelling back. Shay had gone white.
Our psychic wanderer was a great eccentric and fun for a charcter
actress to play in a movie, but she’d also proven last night that
she could work magic. I didn’t know if that was good or bad
news.

Cards on the table time. “Okay. Aura Lee?
Where Ignatz is buried? And where is his flute?”

She made no effort to deny that she knew
exactly what I was talking about. “Ah cain’t tell you, Hon. Y’all
have to work those l’il details out for yourself.”

Shay’s face became grim. She yelled, “You
come waltzing in here at midnight in your incredible pink fairy
costume to scare Abby and make pronouncements, but you can’t give
her one stinkin’, fantastic clue so she’ll be safe? What kind of
nutcase tease are you?”

Aura Lee wasn’t offended. She patted Shay’s
hand, then turned and patted mine. “Now, girls, ah know this is
difficult at this moment, but please try and look on me as
Cinderella’s godmother. With Abby as Cinderella.” She giggled
again. “As you noticed, ah’m kind of dressed like her, aren’t ah?
Well, parts of me are. Sorry you’re scared, darlin’ but I’m in
hidin’. Oh shoot, that reminds me, this tiara is borrowed. Ah’d
best remember to return it before the police come runnin’ after me.
And after ah replace the batteries. Some of these l’il lights just
keep blinkin’ out.” She struggled to get her giggles under control.
“Where was I? Oh, yes. Cinderella. Shohnuff, it’s true, her sweet
godmother waved that pretty wand around and did marvelously lovely
things with mice and pumpkins and fashion design, but Cinderella
had to do her part, too. She was not some pampered l’il ol’Southern
Belle wannabe lyin’ around before the Wo-ah of Northern Aggression
who let everyone else do the work. No no. Cinderella, like a true
Southern lady, cleaned and she got that house spiffied up. Then she
used every ounce of bravery she possessed to go to the ball when
what she really wanted to do was shout to the rooftops,
‘Ah
found ma prince!’
Why, she had to keep her mouth closed and
silent around her nasty family. But in the end, she won. Y’all
understand?”

“Not really. But since you and your wand do
bear a striking resemblance tonight to at last fifteen fictional
fairy godmothers, I’m going to just flow with this and not bitch
too much about the fact that you’re withholding vital information
about musical instruments and murdered flautists and probably who
the killer is now roaming around this castle with me in his or her
sights.”

Shay jumped in, teeth bared. “Well, I’m sure
as shootin’ going to bitch! You’re telling my best friend she’s in
danger and then—what? Planning to step out into your pumpkin
carriage and take off for a nice dinner in Oz?”

“Ooh, I love Australia!” she exclaimed.
“Y’all just have to go there sometime. The beaches are marvelous.
Almost as pretty as South Carolina.”

Shay shouted. “Not
that
Oz!”

Aura Lee sighed. “Oh, ah see, you’re avoiding
the subject and trying to be cute. Jivin’ me. Well, that’s
fahn.”

I held up my hand for peace and tried not to
look at the bouncing tutu. “Shay, you calm down. Aura Lee, you,
you… oh,blast it. Can you help at all? At least give me some teensy
small hint?”

“Oh, Hon, you have all the information you
need. You jes’ need to put it together. And no, Ignatz Jezek is not
gonna play that flute and lead you to the location like he’s some
sort of dead Pied Piper. He’s got his pride, Shugah.”

“Well, what about at least telling me
who
I’m in danger from? Is that breaking some sort of cosmic
rule?”

Aura Lee glanced at the clock over the
mantel. It was like a complete repeat of last night after she’d let
the Baron chew the scenery in his pivotal scene. “Look at the time!
Ah have to get goin’. Oh! Ah almost forgot. Shay? Robby said to
thank ya for the enchilada recipe. That l’il pinch of basil in the
sauce jes’ made
all
the difference.”

“Robby? As in my cousin, Rob? You’re friends
with Rob? Is he still playing bagpipes? Where is he?”

Aura Lee ignored the question. “Ah’m goin’
now. Ah’m glad there’s no snow tonight. Ah’d hate to get ma pretty
boots all soaked in bad weather.”

In a daze, Shay and I walked her to the back
door. Déjà vu indeed. Once again, Aura Lee opened it, stepped
outside, waved as she walked toward the cemetery, then called out
“Requiescat in pacem.”
Shay and I made the mistake of
glancing at each other and shaking our heads in wonder. Mistake,
because in the time it took to shake our heads just once, when we
looked outside again, Aura Lee had disappeared.

“Well, that was just too flippin’ annoying.”
Shay stated in a flat tone.

“Oh? And why would you say that? Because a
short, zaftig, flaming pink Nutcracker Sugar Plum reject sailed in
for ten minutes and tossed loaded missiles around using the ‘D”
word—as in danger—and then took off in her non-existent horse and
carriage?”

Shay snickered. “No, that was merely
frustrating. Annoying is having the fairy drop my cousin’s name and
then take off without telling me where he is or what he’s doing or
how they’re acquainted. She’s right about the basil though. Just a
pinch. Amazing.”

“When did you last talk to Cousin Rob?”

Shay closed her eyes. “Uh, the day you called
about
Kouzlo Noc
. He was in Mexico somewhere and I was still
in Paris and I told him I was on my way to Prague to film at a
haunted castle.”

I groaned. “You actually said ‘haunted’?”

“I did.”

“Well, now the only surprise is that Rob
didn’t pop in along with Aura Lee, his enchilada-eating buddy, for
the séance last night.”

Shay howled. “I’d wager any amount of money
he’s the one who found the tiara for our Southern Belle psychic. In
a flea market in Juarez or someplace. Leftover from a Miss Hot
Tamale contest in El Paso after a bender.”

I brightened. “I want one. Exactly like it
for my next audition. Preferably one that has the little flashing
lights on it. A perfect replica of Auraliah Lee’s. It would look
really cute with my Von Trapp outfit from Katya the Ancient.
Although, using a lit tiara here in the Czech Republic would be
better used for those times when one needs to find one’s way
through blinding snowstorms.”

We tried to smile at each other, but my lips
had started to tremble and I could see that Shay was holding back
shouting obscene curses into a night which had apparently swallowed
Auraliah Lee up whole.

“Let’s go back in. It’s not snowing anymore
but I’m feeling colder than I did during my wild ride on
Yankee
Doodle
… oh my gosh, that was just yesterday morning.”

We shut the massive door and hurried back to
the relative safety of the sitting room.

“Damn. Damn. Damn.”

“Well, that’s descriptive,” I said.

“I don’t like it, Abby. This crazy medium,
ghost-chattering, clairvoyant loon scares you into nearly having a
heart attack, drops some one-liners about how you’re in danger,
doesn’t seem to give a Yankee Doodle Doo about helping you, then
leaves us here at Spook Station and goes off to dine with her
fellow tiaraed minions.”

“
You
don’t like it? What about Danger
Girl here?” I stared at my friend. “I’ve been kind of anxious or
nervy these last few days, but it seemed almost a joke. Then Trina
died and I felt all that horror and sadness but it didn’t seem to
be touching me—I mean as far as the idea of Abby Fouchet in
someone’s sights. Then Marta gets hurt and again, I’m worried and
terrified for her but it still doesn’t penetrate that I could be
next in line for a stair push even though I’m pretty damn sure
everyone in this castle knows I’m in sync with a ghost and I’m the
one who might find that flute. Then—tonight. Doorbell rings and in
bounces Flora, Fauna and Meriwether all in one, and I’m now scared
out of my wits because she’s right. I’m a target. Put a big red
marker on my butt and call the hunters.”

“Get out. Now. I’ll drive you back to
Prague.”

Johnny stood in the doorway of the sitting
room, fully dressed and with as grim an expression as I’d only seen
on those dragon doorknockers. Shay and I turned to face him as he
urged me to make tracks for the city.

“What? I can’t leave.”

He took a long stride into the room. “Yes,
you can and yes, you will. No stupid treasure is worth your life
and I heard enough from Auraliah Lee—yes—I was sneaking around the
ballroom and eavesdropping during her little diva scene—but what
she said was enough to convince me that you do not need to be at
Kouzlo Noc
anymore.”

“Sounds good, Johnny, except I have this
suspicion that it won’t help now if I’m in Prague at my hotel or in
Vienna drinking coffee and downing
s achertortes
by the
plateful or in Manhattan in Times Square watching the New Year’s
Eve ball drop. This killer is not going to stop merely because my
geography changes. He wants that flute. He believes I can get it
for them—and that, my friends, is the bottom line.”

Johnny stared at me. “Shit.”

“Precisely.”

Johnny sat down on the sofa and pulled me
down next to him. “I hate it when you’re right about death and doom
and killers. And where are the Marricino brothers when they’re
needed?”

Shay dropped her bottom onto the hearth of
the fireplace and growled. “So, lady and gent, what can we do? We
must protect the innocent Abby Fouchet from whomever” she paused,
“say ‘who’ and I’m throwing pokers at you both—and we must find the
flute too.”

I’d actually started to chortle over the
“who/ whom” comment but when Shay mentioned the flute I sat
straight up on the edge of the sofa.

“Flute. Okay. That’s the answer.”

“The flute? Definitely the objective, but why
is it the answer?” Shay inquired.

“Because it
is
the objective. Look.
The killer wants the flute which he –or she—oh heck let’s just say
‘he’ for sake of argument and for the fact that I really can’t see
Lily or Veronika skulking about pushing anyone into a moat or down
a flight of stairs and the only other female around here is Shay
and if she kills me I’ll haunt her mercilessly while she’s in the
midst of kinky sexual activities and she’ll be too embarrassed to
continue them. Where was I?”

“Objective,” Johnny murmured.

“Right. He, as in the killer, wants the
flute. He probably has convinced himself that the flute is the
answer to all his troubles in life. I’ll bet anything this guy
thinks it will make him rich. Greed. I’m tellin’ ya, of the seven
deadlies out there, greed is one of the worst.”

“A-greed,” quipped my best friend.

“Oh, hush.”

“Well, I thought it was a nice pun—or
something along those lines. Go on. I’ll try and refrain from
humorous interjections.”

“Yeah, right,” I snorted. “Okay. Logically,
it seems to me that if I find the flute or at least put on a good
show of leading him to it, then the killer will make pop out from
wherever because he has to get his hands on the flute and then we
can grab him and I’ll be out of danger. Yes?”

Johnny pursed his lips. “I’m thinking. And
I’m not thrilled with what I think you’re thinking.”

I looked over at Shay. “Yes?”

“It’s way too simple, which means it probably
is the answer.”

“It’s also a good way to get yourself killed
by this sicko,” Johnny uttered quite tersely.

“Got any other ideas?”

“Not at the moment. Other than shipping you
off to an igloo in Alaska to be guarded by Inuit ice dwellers where
you’d be less likely to be found—no.”

I stifled my laugh. Mainly because I was
afraid if I let it loose it would become hysterical. I didn’t need
hysteria. I needed to stay focused. “Well, gang, this ‘draw out the
killer’ plan does have one other little drawback.”

“And that would be? And excuse me, but like
we needed another drawback?” griped Shay.