Southern Gothic (10 page)

“You two.” Sandra shook her head. “The builders were fine. No mysterious deaths or anything like that. They simply were paid a lot of money to stay silent, and they did.”

“See that,” Drummond said. “Bribery. The choice of the non-violent.”

“After Baxter moves in, everything in the neighborhood is quiet. And then he dies. He was a young man, mid-thirties, in good health. No sign of foul play. His maid found him dead in his study.”

Max’s skin prickled. “Just like Sebastian.”

“Baxter had no heirs. Even if he had, the whole estate was a mess. He had come into this money unexpectedly and didn’t know much about managing such a large sum, so he never got around to making a formal will. Baxter House went up for auction, and guess what local family outbid everyone, paying nearly twice the house’s worth at the time.”

“Don’t say it.”

“Sorry, Hon, but you know it’s coming — Hull. And like we all know and love with the Hulls, after purchasing the house, all mention of the house vanishes from that point forward. My opinion on all of this — Cal Baxter had something the Hulls wanted. Whatever it is, it’s still in the house. Sebastian found out about it and took that job so he could search the house over and over.”

Max perked up. “If Sebastian got close to finding it, the Hulls wouldn’t be too happy. They have him killed and make sure Luther Boer is the crime tech on the scene. They use him to corrupt the evidence, making sure the murder doesn’t tie back to them. Luther’s dead broke. As Drummond would happily point out, he needs money and a bribe would be an easy way for the Hulls to clean up the mess.”

Bringing his hands together in one sharp clap, Drummond said, “You both know what this means we’ve got to do, right?”

“No,” Max said, pushing back his chair. “There’s no need to go breaking into that house.”

“Are you serious? There’s every need. If the Hulls murdered Sebastian, then it means he had gotten close to finding out what they’re hiding. If someone else murdered Sebastian, then it means the murderer is getting close. Either way, the Hulls are smart enough to know that Baxter House is no longer a safe place to hide whatever it is they’re hiding. As soon as the police release the house, the Hulls are going to send somebody in there to clean the place out. Frankly, it’s taken us so long to figure this much out, it may be too late already. So, there’s no other way around it. We’ve got to go tonight.”

Max turned to Sandra but she raised her hands. “Don’t look at me. I agree with the dead guy.”

Drummond flicked the front of his hat. “Thanks, Doll.”

“Fine,” Max said with plenty of snap. “Let’s at least wait until midnight or so, and maybe we can actually plan ahead this time. That might be a new and exciting approach for us.”

“No need to get snippy.”

“I swear there better not be a witch sitting there, waiting for us. I’m sick of witches.”

Chapter 10

By the time they put together a plan,
got some rest, gathered together the few things they needed, and drove to the ritzy part of town, the next day had begun. Max parked the car a block over from Baxter House and checked the clock — 1:02 am. The street looked like the set of a strange movie where everyone had been quarantined — empty and silent, the cars safely stowed in their driveways, no movement, only a handful of lights on, and the blue flicker of a television.

Both Max and Sandra had dressed in dark clothing, and as she checked their equipment bag, Max had to chuckle. “I swear it looks like we’re cat burglars.”

“We can always consider that to be our back up plan if we end up dead broke.”

Drummond poked his head between them. “With my help, you guys would be great at it. But there’s that whole criminal element problem. Namely, that I’m not a criminal element.”

“Relax,” Sandra said. “We’re just joking.”

Max frowned. “What’s the matter?” he asked Drummond.

Drummond gazed out the window. “Nothing. Got a weird feeling, that’s all. Don’t worry about it. But keep alert. Let’s go.”

As they walked toward Baxter House, the temperature dropped around them. Max’s nose froze up and he chastised himself for not bringing a warmer coat. Thick clouds obscured the moon.

Sandra said, “It’s supposed to ice over tonight.”

Max nodded. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to North Carolina winter. We get maybe two snowfalls that are gone before ten o’clock the next day but plenty of ice storms that screw up the mornings for everyone, knocking down trees, and cutting wires. It’s crazy.”

“Then let’s not take too long with this. I don’t want to be driving back on ice.”

The house loomed ahead — darker against the moonless sky. Their footsteps amplified in their ears as they stepped onto the property. Max paused.

“Why are we always doing this stuff at night?” he asked. “We’re smart. We could’ve come up with some reason to check out the house during the day.”

Drummond said, “You’re not looking too smart with that question. Sneaking around at night goes with the job. Less people to notice you. Less trouble to deal with.”

“Besides,” Sandra said, “we deal with ghosts, and ghosts prefer the cold and the dark of night. Most do, anyway.”

“And it’s more fun this way. So quit complaining and get ready. I’ll go open the door.” Drummond whisked off to the house.

Max opened their bag and pulled out two flashlights. Handing one to Sandra, he said, “It was a rhetorical question.”

“I know.” She kissed him on the cheek. “You’re cute. Now, let’s get inside. It’ll be warmer.”

Drummond unlocked the front door, and they slipped under the yellow police crime scene tape. Max flicked on his flashlight and its beam created stark shadows throughout the foyer. Even in the dark, the night had transformed Baxter House into a sinister looking place, but the constant shifting of shadows caused by the moving flashlights sent chills along Max’s arms.

The plan they had devised consisted of Max and Sandra splitting up to cover the house as fast as possible. With Drummond available between them, a simple shout would bring him in to help — the only reason they were willing to split up at all. They also hoped the search would go quickly because they weren’t going to be looking at any place obvious.

Something hidden as long as this had been would not be sitting in a drawer or behind a safe. Nor would it be in a secret drawer behind a false back or a secret safe behind a painting. Such things would have been discovered by now — especially with Sebastian having had plenty of time to search.

Sandra dug into their bag and pulled out two walkie-talkies. She checked that they had been set to the same channel, then handed one to Max. Watching her climb the foyer stairs to search the second floor, Max crossed his fingers — he hoped they had not made a huge mistake. He then hurried through the door on the left. He entered a sitting room filled with heavy furniture, a fireplace, a small bar, and several portraits on the walls. Playing the flashlight against the walls, he looked for any sign of a false panel. He checked the floor and ceiling as well. Nothing looked out of place.

He moved on down a hall that led to the kitchen. Though he had been in the kitchen before, it looked quite different at night and coming in from an alternate angle. Plus, his previous experience involved loads of police and trepidation. He had plenty of the latter, but without the police the room appeared longer and more spacious.

A creaking sound echoed around him. Max froze — his heart pounding. The creak came again — Sandra walking above. Releasing his held breath, he wiped his forehead.

As with the sitting room, Max checked over the walls, floor, and ceiling. He looked at the depth of the room and made sure it matched up with the hall he had walked through. It matched. Had it come up short, he would have suspected a secret room.

“This is going to take a long time,” he muttered.

Drummond swooped in from the closed study door. “Found it,” he said.

“Already?”

“Not that hard considering how I found it.”

They called Sandra down and entered the study. Max halted in the doorway, his eyes locked on the floor. Sebastian’s body had been moved to the city morgue, but Max could still see him — not his ghost but rather an after image burned in the back of Max’s memory. It clung to the floor and the walls and the desk and even the air. It coated the room with an awful foreboding as if at any moment, flames would burst out and consume them all. Sebastian’s ghost would have been easier to take.

Sandra looked back. “You feel it, too?”

Max managed a slight nod.

“Over here,” Drummond said, standing next to the wall opposite the study desk.

Max took one step into the room, then opted to use his flashlight on the wall rather than walk further in. “Looks like a wall. What am I missing?”

“This,” Drummond said, leaning his body against the wall. “I can’t pass through it here. There’s a room on the other side of this wall. I can pass through the walls all around it, but I can’t get in.”

Sandra reached out and cautiously touched the wall. “I don’t feel anything strange, but clearly there’s a ward on this room to keep out ghosts. Possibly other supernatural things, as well.”

“Right, but there’s still got to be a way to open it up. A book to pull or a button to press. Nobody would make a room without a way in. Would they?”

Intrigued, Max edged further in. “The Hulls might. They certainly are capable of casting this ward that’s got you blocked. If they’re trying to hide something, what better way to do it than have no access to it?”

“Guess we should’ve brought an ax or a sledgehammer.”

They all searched the study for any kind of mechanism to unlock a way in — just in case. Books were tilted outward and furniture moved. Max checked out the desk extensively and found nothing but empty drawers.

“Oh, are we ever stupid,” Sandra said and sat on the edge of the desk.

“Not you,” Drummond said. “Just Max.”

Sandra pulled out her cell phone and tapped away. “We know there’s a room and that there’s a ward on the wall. That tells us a lot. The presence of a ward means the presence of magic. In particular, this all tells us that there won’t be a secret lever that opens a secret door. Max is half-right when he said the Hulls would build a room with no access. See, they built a room with no regular access, but magic access — that’s a different matter entirely.”

“Sounds good.” Max sidled up next to her and peeked at her phone. “What are you looking up?”

“Magic spells. Ever since we started dealing with witches, I’ve been surfing the web for quality sites about magic. It’s taken awhile — there’s a ton of crap out there to sift through.”

“You expected different? It’s the Internet.”

“Except the keyword
magic
can go to a lot of different subjects. There are all kinds of groups that pretend they know magic. There’s also people who play the card game, Magic. The word also links to people who perform entertainment magic or write about magic or write fiction involving magic. It goes on and on. But I’ve found a handful of sites that I trust.”

Max nudged her shoulder. “Are you going to learn to be a witch now?”

“Maybe.” Not the answer he wanted, but she kept her focus on the cell phone. “I haven’t decided about that yet. But if we keep getting deeper into this kind of thing, it might be helpful if one of us learns a few spells, at the least.” Smiling, she tapped her phone. “Got it.”

Sandra approached the wall with her hand out. She pressed her palm against the wood and checked her phone one more time. After reading through the information, she put the phone in her pocket.

“What can we do to help?” Drummond asked.

“Nothing, thanks.” She licked her finger and drew a circle around the hand on the wall. Another lick, and she drew a symbol above the circle — one Max had seen before. He jumped to his feet, his mouth unable to work properly as he stared at the symbol. He had seen it at the fights — glowing on the hand of an old witch.

“Honey, I don’t think —”

Lightning flashed inside the room, the walls shook with a thunderous explosion, and Sandra flew backward, crashing into the bookshelves. Books tumbled out and fell on her. Max hurried behind the desk to help her up.

“Are you hurt bad? Can you hear me? Honey?”

Sandra sat up, her head weaving as if drunk. “Did it work?” she said, her voice sounding stronger than the way she looked.

Max peered over the desk. He expected to see a burnt out hole in the wall with splintered bits of wood hanging like sickly teeth. Instead, he saw a finely-crafted door — mahogany with white marble inlays and gold hardware. “Did you make that?”

“No. It was there the whole time. My spell simply revealed the door.”

They waited a few minutes until Sandra could stand without help. Then, they approached the door together. Drummond stopped behind them.

“I can’t get any closer,” he said. “It’s like trying to walk through a wall — and that wall spits out little shocks to boot.”

Max put his hand on the doorknob. “Stay there, then. But if you can peek through the doorway, that’d be good.”