Wicked Business (23 page)

We found a parking place on the side street by the tennis courts and walked across Wheelock to the Sphinx. Diesel had his backpack filled with the rope and spray paint, and I had Carl. He was wearing his new harness, designed for a dog but it fit Carl just fine, and his leash was attached. We
skirted the fire-smudged Sphinx on our way up the hill. The back door had been replaced and the small exhaust fan that was high on the back wall had also been replaced.

There were students talking by the bike racks in front of our target dorm. We kept our distance and walked around the end of the three-building cluster. We stopped a short distance from the basement door and watched the activity. No one was on this side of the building. Good thing for that, because it’s hard to blend in when you’ve got a monkey.

“Showtime,” Diesel said.

We casually crossed to the door, Diesel opened it, and we slipped inside and quickly walked through the revolving wall to the trapdoor. I went down the ladder first, Carl followed, and Diesel came last, closing the hatch, plunging us into darkness.

I felt something scurry across my foot, and in a flash Carl was off the ground and sitting on my head.

I could hear Diesel pulling things out of the backpack. He switched on a light and handed it to me.

“Put this on,” he said.

“What is it?”

“It’s a headlamp. Hikers use them. It’ll give you hands-free light.”

I put the headlamp on and watched while Diesel fixed one onto Carl.

“Where did you find one to fit Carl?” I asked him.

“Ace Hardware. They have everything.”

Diesel put his headlamp on and attached a Maglite to the waistband of his jeans. He coiled a long length of rope over his shoulder and grabbed a can of fluorescent yellow spray paint.

“Let’s go,” he said. “Stay close.”

Stay close was advice I didn’t need. As it was, I couldn’t get close enough. The only one more unhappy than me to be in the dark, dank tunnel was Carl. He was clinging to me with his monkey fingers curled into my shirt in a death grip.

In some ways, it had been better to blindly follow Diesel in the dark last time. I hadn’t seen the spiders hanging from webs above our heads or the dirt sifting down from rotting support beams. When we came to a fork in the tunnel system, Diesel looked for the letter chipped into the stone marker, and he spray painted the walls at the entrance to the tunnel we were about to exit, to make sure we’d make no mistake on the way out.

We came to the small chamber with the domed ceiling. No sunlight filtering through this time. The sun had set. Diesel moved through the room and took us into more tunnels.

If I looked around Diesel, I could see something reflecting light at the end of the current tunnel. Quartz crystals, I
thought. We’d finally reached the large domed room where we’d found Hatchet. The room where the stone and the tablet had resided.

I stepped into the room and felt a sense of relief. It was still claustrophobic, but at least I wasn’t moving through narrow dirt tunnels.

Carl looked around and slowly climbed down. He stood for a moment, testing the dirt-and-stone floor.

“Eeh,” he said.

We’d emerged from the tunnel marked
W
, now spray painted yellow. There were five tunnel entrances opening into the room. We knew from Hatchet that the
N
tunnel had been booby-trapped.

Diesel went to the
N
tunnel and peered into the dark hole with his Maglite.

“What do you see?” I asked him.

“Nothing. No tablet on the ground that I can see. I’d say it’s around a twenty-foot drop.”

The floor of the domed room was littered with small brown rocks the same size and shape as the Luxuria Stone. Mixed with the small brown rocks were chunks of crystal like the ones embedded in the walls and ceiling. I picked up a couple of the prettier crystal chunks and put them in my sweatshirt pocket.

“She said she fell multiple times,” I told Diesel.

“Let’s hope she lost the tablet on the first fall.”

I went to the hole and looked in. “You might be able to drop down and only break one or two bones, but you have no way of getting out, other than wandering around for a couple days.”

“I’m not going down. That’s the genius of my plan. Carl’s going down.”

Carl’s eyes went wide open. “Eeeep!”

“I brought rope,” Diesel said, slipping the coil of rope off his shoulder. “I figure we tie the rope to Carl’s harness, and we lower him down. When he finds the tablet, we bring him back up.”

Carl was shaking his head no so hard I was afraid his eyes would pop out and roll around on the ground.

“It’s perfectly safe,” Diesel said to Carl. “I’ll have a good grip on you. It could even be fun. You’ll get to see a new tunnel.”

Carl gave Diesel the finger.

Diesel tied the rope to the back of Carl’s harness, picked Carl up by it, and bobbed Carl up and down like a yo-yo.

“Good to go,” Diesel said.

“He looks worried.”

Diesel hung him over the hole. “Nothing to worry about. What could go wrong?”

“Eeeeee,” Carl said, descending into the abyss, holding tight to his harness, feet dangling, his mini-headlamp shining into the darkness.

“Remember, you’re looking for the tablet,” Diesel called to Carl. “I’ll pull you up when you get the tablet.”

I stood back a couple feet and manned the Maglite. I was trying to illuminate the ground below, but it was difficult to get the beam of light past Carl.

“He’s on the ground,” Diesel said. “The rope went slack. I think he’s walking around. “Hey, Carl!” he called down. “How’s it going? Do you see the tablet?”

“Chee,” Carl said, his voice very faint.

Moments later, there was a tug on the rope. Carl wanted to come up.

“Did you get the tablet?” Diesel asked.

“Chee.”

Carl had something in his hands coming up. Impossible to see what it was—my light was throwing shadows. Diesel lifted Carl out of the hole and swung him toward me. Carl had a dead rat.

“Eeep?” Carl asked, holding the rat out for me to see.

“Dude, that’s not a tablet,” Diesel said.

Carl dropped the rat, and Diesel kicked it over the edge into the hole.

“Back you go,” Diesel said, sending Carl down, down, down.

“Eep,” Carl said.

The rope went slack and then played out.

“He’s walking around,” Diesel said.

Diesel leaned over the edge to see better, and the dirt gave way.

“Oh crap,” Diesel said, tumbling into the hole.

WHUUUMP!
Diesel landed on his back far below me.

“Omigod,” I said. “Are you okay?”

“I think I landed on the rat.”

“As long as you didn’t land on Carl.”

Carl jumped onto Diesel’s chest and gave me a big monkey smile and a finger wave.

Diesel got to his feet and looked around.

“Do you see the tablet?” I asked him.

“Yes,” he said. “It’s partially covered by dirt. It’s no wonder Carl couldn’t find it.”

“So what are you going to do now?” I asked him. “How are you going to get back here?”

“I’m not. There’s no way.”

“But I’m here,” I said.

“You’ll have to go back by yourself, and I’ll find my way out.”

“What? Are you crazy? I’m not walking back through all those tunnels by myself!”

“It’s easy,” Diesel said. “They’re spray painted. The only other option is to come down here.”

I looked over the edge. “It’s a long way.”

“I’ll catch you.”

“Anarchy said there were spiders and bats that way.”

“And?”

“I don’t like spiders and bats.”

“You have to choose.”

“Okay, I’m coming down.”

“Great.”

I was on the edge of the hole, but I couldn’t bring myself to jump. I’d start, but then I’d chicken out.

“Oh, for the love of Pete,” Diesel said.

I glared down at him. “This is all your fault. This was your stupid idea. And then you went and fell in the hole. What the heck were you thinking?”

“I was thinking I had to get the tablet.”

“Even your monkey knew it was a bad idea, but did you listen to him? No, no, no.”

“Women,” Diesel said to Carl. “Can’t live with them. Can’t live without them.”

“Ugh!” I said. “Idiot! I’ll meet you at the car.”

I turned and huffed off to the
W
tunnel, put my head down, and stomped and swore, following the yellow splotches. “Stupid, stupid, stupid!” I said. “I can’t believe I got talked into this harebrained idea.” A spider as big as a silver dollar dropped onto my arm, and I backhanded it off into the black beyond. “Special abilities, my foot. Enhanced senses. See where that gets you. For sure not out of a twenty-foot hole. At least I can make cupcakes.” I passed through the smaller domed room, and several sets of glittery little eyes reflected light from my headlamp. The eyes started to
move toward me and I yelled at them. “Do
not
mess with me. I’m not in a good mood.
Shoo!
”

I marched through yet another tunnel, on a rant about Diesel and rats and roaches, and I looked ahead and saw the ladder. I was up the ladder and out the trapdoor and revolving door in a heartbeat. I took my headlamp off, ran my hands through my hair, and shook myself to make sure I didn’t have hitchhikers. I took a minute to calm myself, and then I left the building and walked out into the night air.

By the time I got to the car, I was worrying about Diesel and Carl. Diesel was down there without a map or yellow paint splotches to guide him. He was a big, strong guy. He was brave. He was smart. He could block bad energy and do who knows what else. None of that would help if a tunnel caved in.

An hour later, I was still waiting. I watched my cell phone for a text message, and I tried calling Diesel’s phone. Nothing turned up on either. I was cold and I was scared. The car was locked. My purse was inside the car. A man and a monkey I loved, at least some of the time, were trapped underground. I decided I’d give Diesel until ten o’clock, and then I’d get people into the tunnels to search for him.

A little after nine, I was sitting on the curb by the Aston Martin, and I felt hands at my waist and was lifted to my feet.

“I was worried about you,” Diesel said, wrapping his
arms around me, holding me close. “I should have been more careful.”

He kissed me, and just when it was getting really interesting, Carl climbed up my back and sat on my head.

Diesel took Carl off my head and remoted the car open. “I was afraid you might leave without me.”

“I didn’t have a car key.”

Diesel opened the door for me. “Is that the only reason?”

“Of course not. I wouldn’t leave Carl stranded.”

Carl rushed into the car and jumped into the backseat. Carl was ready to go home.

I blew out a sigh. “I wouldn’t leave you stranded, either.”

“You were worried about me,” Diesel said.

“Yes.”

Diesel handed the broken tablet to me. It was marble, with engraved writing, and if it had been whole, it would have been the size of a legal envelope.

“Is this the tablet?” he asked me.

“I can’t say for certain, but chances are very good. Its energy is identical to that of the stone.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

“You’ve been frozen in one spot, staring into that bowl of frosting, for the last ten minutes,” Clara said to me. “Are you asleep?”

“I had a late night. I don’t know how I used to do it when I worked restaurant shifts and got by on four hours of sleep.”

The back door opened and Glo walked in. She dropped her messenger bag on the floor, along with Broom and her jean jacket, and she shuffled off to get her bakery smock.

“I’m done,” Glo said. “I didn’t sleep all night. I need coffee.”

Clara wiped her hands on a towel. “I could swear I hear music.”

“It’s Hatchet,” Glo said. “He followed me here. I can’t get
rid of him. He was outside my window all night, playing his lute and singing embarrassing songs to me. I couldn’t get him to stop. If he keeps this up, I’m going to get evicted.”

Clara and I went to the door and looked out at Hatchet. He was dressed up in his Sunday best, wearing a slouchy green velvet hat with a big plum-colored plume.

“O Glo, O Glo, I love thee so,” he sang. He strummed a couple notes on his lute and bowed to us. “I bid thee morning, fair women. Wouldst fair Glo wish to hear my tune?”

“No!” Glo yelled from inside the kitchen. “Go away!”

“She jests,” Hatchet said. “Glo is witty. Glo is pretty. Glo doth make my heart sore, my manhood sing.”

Clara closed and locked the back door.

“I’m going to throw up if I have to hear any more about his manhood,” Glo said. “It’s just wrong to be singing about it while you’re playing a lute.”

She went to the front shop, turned the CLOSED sign to OPEN, and unlocked the front door. I brought out the last tray of cupcakes and transferred them into the display case, and spotted Hatchet on the sidewalk. I could see him through the front window, strumming and singing to people passing by.

“My love’s lips of cherry make me merry. Turgid nipples and tongue like a cat. I’d doth give her my hat for one hot kiss. Kiss, kiss, I miss my Glo,” Hatchet sang.

Glo looked down at herself. “What’s a turgid nipple? Is it good?”

Mrs. Kramer bustled into the bakery. “There’s a strange man outside singing about turgid nipples.” She looked at Glo. “I think he’s singing about
your
turgid nipples.”

Glo stormed out of the bakery and yelled at Hatchet. “Stop it this instant. You have no business singing about my nipples. You’ve never even seen them. And besides, nipples are private. How would you like it if I sang songs about your johnson?”

“I would like it,” Hatchet said.

“If you keep this up, I’m going to turn Broom loose on you.”

“How doth my johnson love thee?” Hatchet sang. “Let me count the ways. Upside down and round and round …”

Glo stomped back into the bakery and slammed the door shut.

“I’d like a loaf of seeded rye, sliced,” Mrs. Kramer said. “And two strawberry cupcakes.”