A Catered Halloween (18 page)

“I wasn’t yelling.”

“Okay. Speaking loudly.”

“You just don’t give up, do you?” Libby said.

“No, I don’t. It’s the secret to my success.”

“Yes, it is,” Libby agreed.

And Libby gave her a blow-by-blow of what had occurred, which, if she was being honest with herself, she knew she was going to do all along, because eventually, she always told her sister everything.

L
ibby looked at the clock on the wall. It was now a little past nine. Half an hour and she and Bernie could pack up and leave. Thank heavens. The traffic had been nonstop. Once the people had started coming in, they had never slowed down. Usually, people came in clumps, so you had a chance to take a break, but she hadn’t even had time to run to the bathrooom.

In addition, her back was killing her from standing, and her wrists hurt from making all those waffles. She hoped she wasn’t developing carpal tunnel syndrome. That would be all she’d need. Maybe she should go to the store and get those braces. See if those helped.

At least her feet weren’t killing her. She didn’t know how Bernie managed in her three-inch stilettos. Libby didn’t know what she’d do if she couldn’t wear her sneakers. If she had to wear Bernie’s shoes, she’d be going barefoot and the hell with the health codes. She wanted to go home, get out of her dress, take a bath, and go to bed, but instead, she and Bernie were meeting Brandon and Marvin at R.J.’s.

When she’d protested, Bernie had said to her, “First of all, Marvin hasn’t seen your dress, and second of all, it’s the least you can do to thank him for driving Dad around all afternoon.”

Bernie was right. Marvin was incredibly sweet, and she shouldn’t take him for granted, which, she was the first to admit, she had a tendency to do. Still, she hoped it would be an early night.

She surveyed what was left on the table. The one bright note was that they didn’t have much to take back to the shop. All the cider was gone, as were the pies and the fruit breads, except for the last piece of banana bread, which she was going to eat right now. They could store what was left of the apple compote in the fridge in the kitchen adjoining the dining room, though she’d have to make more tomorrow morning. The leftover waffle batter had got tossed, as had the coffee. Libby was thinking that she wished she could find a use for the leftover batter—it pained her to throw anything out—when she realized that Bernie was talking to her.

“Maybe there’s something about you that’s attracting Bessie Osgood,” Bernie was saying.

“There’s nothing about me that’s doing that,” Libby said firmly and dove into her bag for a piece of chocolate. She knew what Bernie was going to say, and she didn’t want to go there.

Just the thought of what had happened was enough to give her the chills.

“You want a piece of chocolate?” Libby asked her sister. “I’ve got French made, estate harvested, unblended, eighty percent dark, or good old Hershey’s Milk Chocolate Kisses.”

“I’ll take the Kisses,” Bernie told her.

“Me too,” Libby said.

You could say all you wanted about the joys of dark chocolate, Libby thought. You could go on and on about the notes of cinnamon and cranberry present in it, you could feel virtuous because dark chocolate was now considered good for you, but in times of stress, nothing worked like Hershey’s Kisses. Somehow when they dissolved on your tongue, they took your worries with them. For a little while. But in this case, a little while was good enough.

Definitely good enough,
Libby thought as she hoisted her bag off the floor and began rummaging through it, although what she really needed was a milk-chocolate IV right now.

“What in heaven’s name do you have in there?” Bernie asked her.

“Stuff. You know.” Libby looked at Bernie’s sleek clutch. “Or maybe you don’t.” And she opened her bag as wide as she could and peered in. “Where is that bag of Kisses?” she muttered. “I know I have it somewhere.”

“You have a whole bag?” Bernie asked.

“Well,” Libby said defensively, “you never know when a chocolate emergency will arise.”

“Like the Hudson River will overflow, and we’ll be stranded here for weeks.”

“Exactly,” Libby said. “Or we get caught in a blizzard.” She started removing things. Out came a pocket knife, a wallet, sunglasses, a bottle of aspirin, a bottle of vitamin B complex, a screwdriver. “So that’s where it was,” Libby said as she put the screwdriver down on the table. “I spent twenty minutes looking for this yesterday.” Her eyes widened. A moment later she drew out a brown paper bag. “I know I didn’t put this in here.” And then she remembered. “Amber.”

“Amber what?”

“Amber said she had a surprise for me.” Libby felt instantly guilty. Amber was probably waiting for her to call.

“A surprise from Amber is not necessarily a good thing,” Bernie observed.

“Don’t make me more nervous than I already am,” Libby told her. “It’s been a bad enough day already.”

Bernie snorted. “Such a delicate flower.”

“I’m serious. What with everything that’s going on, I’m a nervous wreck. I think I need an antianxiety drug.”

“No. What you need is to get laid.”

“Bernie!” Libby wailed.

“What’s wrong with what I said?”

“That’s personal.”

“No, it’s not. It’s true. It’s true for everyone. You mean, it’s not? You mean, you don’t feel more relaxed afterwards?”

When Libby didn’t answer, Bernie decided to change the subject. This was another topic Libby didn’t like to talk about, and they’d had enough arguments for one day.

“What’s in there?” Bernie asked, motioning to the brown paper bag with her chin.

“Let’s see,” Libby said. She gingerly opened the bag and peered inside.

“Well?” Bernie demanded.

“It’s the puzzle box Felicity gave you.” And Libby lifted it out.

“Why did Amber give it to you?”

Libby shook her head. “Don’t know. Dad left it downstairs on the kitchen counter. Maybe Amber wanted to make sure it didn’t get lost.”

“Why should she care?” Bernie asked.

Libby shrugged her shoulders.

“I’m going to call her,” Bernie said, reaching for her cell phone. But her call went straight to voice mail. Amber must have turned off her phone, Bernie decided. So, she left a message to call her and hung up. “She’s probably with that yo-yo she’s seeing.”

“Her taste in men isn’t very good, is it?” Libby noted as she spotted a piece of paper in the bottom of the bag.
Probably a sales receipt
, she thought as she took it out.

“No, it’s not,” Bernie agreed as her sister unfolded the paper.

“It’s a note,” Libby said. She read it quickly. “It’s instructions for opening up the puzzle box. Amber must have figured it out.”

“Impressive,” Bernie said. She certainly hadn’t been able to, and neither had her dad or Clyde.

Libby took the puzzle box and looked at it. It was a little bigger than the palm of her hand. The top was made of three pieces of dark wood; the bottom, of two. The pieces of wood fit together so neatly that you had to look carefully to see where they were joined. Libby smoothed the paper with the edge of her hand and read the instructions.

“Press on the far left-hand piece once.” She did. “Then tap lightly on the far right piece.” She did that, too. “Then tap the bottom far right piece of wood, and the box should open.” Libby looked up at Bernie. “Here goes.” She rapped once, and the top flew open.

Libby and Bernie peered in. Inside the box was a piece of paper folded into a tiny square. Bernie lifted it out and began unfolding it.

“What is it?” Libby asked as Bernie finished opening it.

Bernie flattened the paper out with the side of her hand. The writing was so fine, she was having trouble
reading it. She brought the paper closer. “It’s a map,” she said.

“A map of what?”

“Maybe the old Peabody School. I’m not really sure.”

Libby took the paper out of Bernie’s hand and studied it. “The ink is brown.”

“It’s from a fountain pen.”

“I know that,” said Libby.

“I thought you were asking.”

“No. I was commenting.”

Bernie took the map out of Libby’s hand and refolded it. “We should show this to Dad. He’ll probably know.”

Libby was about to agree when Bernie’s cell rang.

“It’s Amber,” Bernie mouthed after she’d answered it. “Yes,” she said into her cell. “We just opened the box. Yes. No. Libby forgot. Well, it was busy from the time she walked in here. I’m sorry your feelings are hurt. No. She doesn’t mean to be insensitive.”

“Insensitive?” Libby squeaked. “I’m insensitive?”

“Sssh,” Bernie whispered and went back to listening to Amber. “Yes. We were very surprised. And impressed. How did you manage to figure it out?” She nodded as she listened to Amber’s explanation.

“What is she saying?” Libby asked.

Bernie held up her hand as a signal for silence and went on talking to Amber. “So you know where the map is pointing to?” Bernie was silent for a few more moments as she listened to Amber talking. “Interesting,” she said as she hung up. Then she turned to Libby as she put her cell back in her clutch and folded it over.

“We’re meeting her and the twins in front of the Foundation in half an hour,” Bernie told her. “By that time, everyone should have cleared out from here.”

“They’ll be gone in ten minutes.”

“There are always stragglers. Anyway, it’ll take everyone a little time to get here.”

Libby took the bag of chocolate Kisses out of her bag and poured several into the palm of her hand. She had a feeling she was going to need them.

“How does Amber know where to go?” Libby asked.

“She looked at the old plans for the Peabody School. I guess the twins have them,” Bernie explained before Libby could inquire.

“How does she know the twins?”

“They live on the same block.”

“It figures,” Libby said morosely. She could see her bath and her bedtime receding further and further into the distance. “What about Marvin and Brandon?”

“I’ll call them now. They can meet us there. We’ll go for a drink later.”

Libby unwrapped two chocolate Kisses and popped them into her mouth.

“What is the matter with you?” Bernie demanded.

“I’m tired.”

“Aren’t you excited to see what we’re going to find?”

“Of course,” Libby lied.

“No, you’re not.”

“Have it your way.”

Libby popped another two Kisses into her mouth. It was going to be even colder and wetter out there now than it had been when she’d come in, and she was dressed in this stupid dress. She didn’t even have a warm coat with her. Bernie had insisted she use her mom’s paisley shawl instead. She’d loved it since she was a little girl, and it was definitely more elegant than her black, puffy coat. But sometimes elegance wasn’t
everything, although she doubted she could convince Bernie of that.

Libby knew what was going to happen. She was going to get pneumonia, and then she wouldn’t be able to work and the shop would close and they’d be out on the street. And on top of that, they wouldn’t find anything tonight. She, Libby, would die of pneumonia for nothing.

“I don’t know,” Bernie said.

“You don’t know what?” Libby demanded. Her sister was looking at her and shaking her head in that particularly smug, irritating way she had.

“If you’re like this now, I don’t know what you’ll be like when you’re fifty.”

Since Libby couldn’t think of a sufficiently cutting reply, she decided that it was better to say nothing at all.

B
ernie and Libby were five minutes early for their rendezvous, but Amber was even earlier. They immediately spotted her in the parking lot right behind the Foundation. Hers was the only car in the lot, but even if it weren’t, it would have stood out like a lighthouse beacon.

Wonder Woman was a neon green Beetle with big white flowers on the doors and the words
FLOWER POWER
printed across the hood. And then there was Amber herself. “Not exactly inconspicuous,” Bernie had said to her sister. But she had to admit Amber had style, and that was a good thing. On the other hand, given the circumstances, more circumspection might have been better. Before coming here, Amber had changed out of her work clothes and was now wearing black-and-white striped leggings, motorcycle boots, a red baby-doll dress, and a black leather jacket.

“I like the hair,” Libby said to Bernie as Amber came galumphing toward them. Since she’d seen her at
the store, Amber had dyed her hair a bright yellow and braided it.

Bernie got out of the van. “Very colorful,” she commented.

Libby rubbed her arms and drew the shawl around her as tightly as she could. “At least it’s better than the blue she had last month.”

“I kinda liked the blue,” Bernie confessed. “In fact, I’m thinking of dying my hair that color myself.”

“You wouldn’t,” Libby said.

“Why not?” Bernie asked. “I can always change it if I want to.”

But before Libby could answer, Amber had reached them. The metal piercings in her nose and eyebrow gleamed in the glow of the security lights.

“This is so-o-o cool,” Amber squealed, reminding Bernie of a five-year-old about to go into an ice-cream store. “I’m so excited.”

“I never would have guessed,” Libby said dryly. If she didn’t get pneumonia from being out in this weather, it would be a miracle.

Bernie kicked her in the shin.

“Ouch,” Libby cried.

“Sorry about that,” Bernie said. “I must have tripped. Where is everyone?”

Amber pulled on one of her braids. “They’re coming,” she replied. “Curtis and Konrad had to stop and get some batteries.”

“They’re recording this?” Libby asked.

Amber gave her a look that clearly said that she was too dumb to live. “Shite, mate. Sodding right they are.”

“How silly of me.” Libby had thought Amber was through with her Brit period, but evidently she was wrong.

A moment later she heard the sound of engines ap
proaching. Then two cars came roaring out from behind the scrim of tall trees that hid the Foundation and headed for Bernie and Libby’s van.

For a second, Libby panicked, because she thought they were security, but then she realized the cars belonged to Brandon and to Konrad and Curtis. They both screeched to a halt at the same time. Marvin and Brandon jumped out of one car, while Konrad and Curtis jumped out of the other.

“The cavalry has arrived,” Bernie said to Libby out of the side of her mouth.

“So it would seem,” Libby agreed.

“What’s a cavalry?” Amber asked.

Suddenly, Bernie felt very old. “I’ll explain later,” Bernie told her.

Konrad beamed at everyone. “I’m totally psyched,” he said. Then he dove back in his car and came out with a tape deck, which he handed to Curtis. He went back in again and came out with a camera. “Infrared,” he explained.

“Cool,” Amber repeated.

“Very,” Brandon agreed.

Watching Amber, Bernie thought that she now understood the expression “grinning from ear to ear.”

Libby looked at Marvin. She could tell from the expression on his face that he had the same misgivings about this that she had, a fact that comforted her, because everyone else seemed to think that what they were doing was fine.

“Nice dress,” Marvin told Libby. “I especially like the neckline.” And he moved both eyebrows up and down.

Libby grinned; then she caught Bernie’s eye and stopped smiling. Okay. So Bernie was right about a few things, mostly men and clothes. She’d grant her
that, but she wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of showing it.

“Be right back,” Marvin said, and he trotted off to his car.

A few seconds later, he returned with a jacket under his arm. He handed it to Libby. “Here,” he said.

Libby put it on gratefully.

“So,” Brandon was asking Amber, “how did you solve the puzzle?”

Amber shrugged as everyone gathered around her to hear the answer. “I just like to fool around with stuff like that, you know.” She nodded in Bernie’s and Libby’s direction. “I asked your dad if I could give it a try, and he told me to go ahead.”

Bernie buttoned up the sweater she was wearing over her she-devil costume. “Did you tell him that you’d figured it out?”

“No. I thought it would be neater if we could show him what we found,” said Amber.

“If there’s anything there,” Libby said.

“Why shouldn’t there be anything there?” Amber demanded.

“Well, because whatever it is has been…in its place…for a long time. Things happen,” Libby pointed out.

“Like what?” asked Amber.

“Like stuff,” Bernie said.

The sound of a car pierced their conversation.

“You know what I think?” Brandon said. “I think we should get on with it before security comes around.”

“He’s right,” Konrad agreed. “Mark wouldn’t be happy if he saw us here.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Curtis said. “Of course, he’d be happy—”

Libby interrupted. “So where do we go?” She had no intention of standing there while they argued.

“I’ll show you,” Amber said, and she danced off in front of them.

Marvin began walking. “It must be nice to be young,” he remarked.

“You are young,” Libby said as she walked beside him.

Marvin beamed.

“Hey, Konrad,” Brandon called.

Konrad turned slightly.

“You expect to get anything with that stuff?” Brandon pointed to the tape deck and the camera.

“Yeah. Absolutely,” said Konrad. “It’s almost Halloween. Everyone is out. This is the time when the dead come visiting.”

“So Halloween is sort of like New Year’s Eve for the dead? Party time,” Brandon asked.

Curtis laughed. “Yeah. That’s exactly right. And this is something about Bessie, so she’ll probably be there, too.”

Boy, I hope not
, Libby thought. She’d had enough of her to last for a long time. Libby gave a short prayer that if Bessie was around, she’d pick on someone else for a change.

“Where are we going?” Libby asked.

Everyone shrugged.

“I’m following Amber,” Konrad said.

“Me too,” Curtis said.

Somehow that didn’t make Libby feel any better. After all, Amber was the person who seriously believed in past-life regression and guided dreaming, and based all of her decisions on the I Ching. But then who was she to talk? She’d seen a ghost. She’d done more than see. She’d talked to it. What did that make her?

“How’d you get the plans?” Bernie asked Curtis.

“Mark gave them to us. He said they might help us get…situated vis-à-vis the whole recording situation. Well, they’re not really plans. They’re more like sketches we made from the plans, because he wouldn’t let us take the plans out of the building, which really is okay, because they’re really, really large, and they’d be hard to carry around.”

“Are your sketches to scale?” Marvin asked.

“What’s scale?” Konrad replied.

Marvin looked at Libby and raised an eyebrow. Libby gave an infinitesimal nod back. Now she was even more dubious about the whole endeavor than she’d been before.

“How much farther?” Bernie asked.

Amber turned around and pointed. “We’re almost there.”

Bernie looked around. There was nothing she could see that looked anything like what was on the map. “I don’t get it,” she said.

Amber asked for the map from the puzzle box; then she laid the map and Konrad and Curtis’s sketches side by side on the bench next to the Foundation’s front door.

“It’s simple,” she said. “See.” She pointed to the right wing. “That’s the girls’ section, and the left wing is the boys’.”

“How do you know this?” Libby demanded. “It doesn’t say that on the map.”

“I just know,” replied Amber.

“How do you
just know?
” asked Libby.

Amber put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes. “I dreamt it, okay?”

Libby snorted.

“See,” Amber cried. “I knew if I told you, you’d get all weird on me.”

“I’m not weird,” said Libby.

“But you wouldn’t have wanted to come,” said Amber.

“You’re right,” Libby told her. “I wouldn’t have, but we’re here now, so let’s get it over with.”
But not for the reason you think
, she silently added.

Amber hesitated for a moment before pointing up to the second floor. “See the windows?”

Bernie looked up. “And Bessie Osgood stood there?”

“Yes,” Amber said. “She liked to watch everyone coming and going.”

Libby zipped up Marvin’s jacket. It was getting colder by the minute. “And that’s where she was pushed from?”

“That happened on the other side.” Amber pointed to one of the sketches. “That’s where the French doors are.”

Bernie leaned in closer. She could vaguely, and she meant vaguely, make out the drawing. “I don’t suppose anyone brought a flashlight?” she asked.

Everyone shook their heads.

“Use your cell,” Brandon suggested.

Bernie tried, but the light was minimal, certainly not enough to read by. She flipped her cell phone closed and slipped it back in her clutch.

Amber turned around and pointed over to the maple tree about twenty feet away. “In my dream, I saw someone burying something right by the base of that tree.”

Konrad and Curtis ran over to where Amber was pointing.

“Here?” Konrad asked.

Amber nodded.

Konrad fumbled with the tape deck for a moment.
Then he clicked on the switch. “Are you here, Bessie?” he asked.

Brandon moved next to him. “Is she answering?”

Curtis shot him a dirty look. “We won’t know that till we play it back.”

“I’m surprised you can hear anything on that tape deck. Where did you get that thing?” said Brandon.

Konrad put his finger to his lips. “Sssh. You’ll scare her.”

“How can you scare a ghost?” Brandon asked.

“They have feelings just like we do,” Curtis said.

Brandon was just about to ask him how he knew that when Amber let out a small shriek. Everyone jumped.

“What is it?” Libby cried.

Amber put her hand up to her mouth. “Shite. I gotta go back to Wonder Woman. I forgot the shovel.”

“Wonder Woman?” Marvin asked Libby as Amber dashed away.

“That’s her car,” Libby explained. She rubbed her arms. Even with Marvin’s jacket, she was still cold. “This is silly. I think we should go.”

“Go on,” Bernie told her. “I’ll stay.”

Libby sighed. Somehow Bernie telling her to go made it harder to do just that. Go figure. She was still debating with herself what to do when Amber came back with a shovel. Libby looked at it carefully.

“That looks like the one we keep by the shop’s back door,” Libby observed.

“That’s because it is,” Amber told her. “I figured you wouldn’t mind.”

Amber marched over to the tree and started digging. Spadefuls of dirt began to fly. Bernie stepped back to avoid getting hit.

“Maybe you should slow down,” Bernie told her as a hole began to appear.

Amber wiped some dirt off her cheek. “Why?”

“Well, whatever is down there might be fragile…,” said Bernie.

Amber finished the sentence. “And I don’t want to damage it.”

“Exactly,” Brandon said. “Here. Let me do this.” And he knelt down next to where she’d been digging and began to scoop the dirt away with his hands while Amber peered over his shoulder.

Everyone moved in closer.

Brandon looked up. “People,” he said, “you have to move back. You’re blocking whatever light there is.”

Everyone moved back half an inch except for Amber. She knelt next to Brandon and began scooping the dirt out with her hands as well.

“Found something,” Amber cried after sixty seconds had gone by. Then she corrected herself. “Sorry. It’s a tree root.”

Brandon grunted and kept digging.

“Maybe your dream is wrong,” Libby said to Amber. “Have you ever considered that?”

“I doubt it,” Amber replied. “I doubt it very much.”

“But how do you know?” asked Libby.

“I just do. That’s all. Don’t you dream?” said Amber.

“Not like that,” Libby lied, trying not to think of her recent dreams.

“It must be cool to have precognition,” Bernie observed.

“Pre…what?” Amber asked.

Bernie was about to explain when she saw Brandon stiffen.
Like a hunting dog catching a scent
, she thought. “Did you find something?” she asked.

“I think so,” Brandon replied.

Everyone leaned forward to watch Brandon as he began clearing the dirt away. Amber helped. Their
movements became faster. No one spoke, not even Konrad or Curtis. Libby could see their breaths drifting upward in the air. The only sound was the whoosh of the tape deck.

“I think it’s a box,” Amber said.

Brandon lifted it out.

“It’s definitely a box,” Bernie said.

Amber got up and brushed the dirt off her leggings. “Wow,” she said. “This is just like a movie. You know, like the
Curse of the Maya
or something like that. We open the box and the evil spirit comes out and we all die slow, lingering deaths. Wouldn’t that be cool?”

“Not really,” Brandon said as he straightened up and carried the box over to the bench in front of the Foundation.

“But it would be exciting,” Amber said.

“Only in the movies,” Brandon replied as he laid the box down.

“It looks like an old-fashioned cash box,” Marvin noted. “My dad still has one of those in his drawer. He keeps his stamps in it.”

“That’s exactly what it is,” said Brandon as he flipped up the latch that held the box closed. He was surprised that it opened as easily as it did. He’d expected he’d need a small crowbar and a can of WD-40 because it would be rusted shut. But it wasn’t.