The Diva Haunts the House (19 page)

BOOK: The Diva Haunts the House
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The door knocker sounded, giving us all a few more minutes before the confrontation. When I opened the door, I found a petite woman with high cheekbones and a chic haircut that framed her delicate face. Her resemblance to Jesse left no question that she was his mom. She introduced herself as Dana Unterberger and apologized for Jesse’s behavior. I led her into the kitchen, where she glared at her child and took a seat at the table.
Mars leaned against the kitchen counter, and in a no-nonsense tone, he said, “Explain yourselves.”
To her credit, Jen looked miserable when she said, “Aunt Sophie, they’re saying you put the vampire bite mark on Patrick’s neck to make people think Viktor was back and get publicity for the haunted house.”
How could anyone think anything so absurd? “Where did you hear that?”
Jesse chimed in, “It’s all over the Net. On Facebook and Twitter.”
I took a deep breath. This wasn’t about me or any stupid rumors. I ladled hot chocolate into mugs with assorted Halloween images on them, and topped them off with miniature marshmallows. “That should teach you that you cannot believe every silly thing someone puts on the Internet. There’s no filter for accuracy, you know.” I passed out the mugs.
Mars frowned at them. “Even if that’s true, it doesn’t explain your middle-of-the-night foray.”
I handed Dash a mug. He thanked me, but I noticed he didn’t seem terribly upset with Blake, who appeared more relaxed than the rest of the kids.
It was Jen who finally broke. “We did it for you, Aunt Sophie. We thought if we spied on the vampire, we would know who he was, and then Wolf could capture him so you wouldn’t be in danger anymore.”
“He goes there every night. That’s why the window is open. He flies in and out as a bat,” said Vegas.
Every adult in the room raised eyebrows at Vegas’s bat explanation.
I didn’t know what to say. I was honored that they would go to such lengths for me, but that wasn’t the right attitude—it would only encourage more irresponsible behavior. While I was thinking, Jen continued.
“And Heather changed her relationship status on Facebook.”
Blake’s face blazed crimson. “It was a lie.”
Jen focused on me. “Heather said she was in a relationship with Blake. That”—she glanced at Vegas—“a revolting zombie bride had tried to move into her territory, and she’d better back off.”
I tried to keep a stern face. Relief swept over me, though, because I now had a hunch that the frightening dead doll had come from Heather the Horrid. Apparently, that girl was determined to torment Vegas. “What does that have to do with anything?”
Vegas finally spoke. “She said she was meeting Blake at the haunted house.”
Jesse’s mother, Dana, tapped her fingernail on the table. “That doesn’t explain why you were involved in this caper, young man!”
“Mom,” said Jesse, “the house is really haunted. For real. You wouldn’t believe what was going on in there last night. There’s this cigarette case with Viktor Luca’s initials on it and it disappeared. Blake had it in his hand one minute, then he set it down next to the wine bottles, and we walked over to the spider room, and when we came back, the case was gone.”
“And Viktor’s room smelled like cigarette smoke, but none of us were smoking,” added Jen.
“And this red ball bounced down the stairs,” said Blake. “It was in the lair downstairs the last time we saw it, so how did it get up to the second floor?”
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up even though I was certain there were reasonable explanations for everything. I had to believe them because I’d seen the ball bounce down the stairs myself.
Vegas shuddered. “There were these things, like little vortexes of air, that flashed over our heads when we turned out the lights. We think they were ghosts.”
Mars sounded surprisingly patient when he said, “Need I remind you that a fifth person fled the house when Sophie and I arrived? Someone had fun playing a major prank on you guys.”
There was something about the way he said it that gave me pause. He was too calm and dismissive.
“Thanks for coming, everyone.” Mars stood and shook hands with Dash. “Let’s get these vagabonds to bed. That’s the end of the haunted house for these four!”
“Oh no!” Jesse’s mother jumped up. “Could I please speak with the parents privately?”
Leaving the kids with Nina, I ushered the other adults into the living room. No one bothered to sit down. We clustered in a little huddle.
Dana placed her hands together under her chin as though she were praying. “Jesse is a bright boy. Unfortunately, you wouldn’t know that from his grades. We’re working hard on applying ourselves. The thing is that he’s getting extra credit for this project and he
cannot
mess it up. Seriously. It will be a nightmare. It could even mean repeating the year.”
Mars said, “Then he can continue by himself.”
Dana’s eyebrows rose in alarm. “That won’t work. If the others don’t get credit, there will be all sorts of questions about why they didn’t finish the project and put in their hours. It will all come out, and Jesse is the one who’ll suffer.” She looked at the ceiling and drew a deep breath. “Please don’t think that I’m not upset about my child running around on the streets in the middle of the night—but they didn’t do anything horrible. No one got hurt. They didn’t break windows or vandalize anything or do drugs. C’mon, it could have been a lot worse.”
Dash tilted his head. “I have to agree. If this becomes a disciplinary matter at the school, it could jeopardize Blake’s participation on the tennis team. As far as I’m concerned, it was a childish prank that the parents should handle. I see no need to involve the school.”
I knew Mars was going to agree to protect Vegas. “I’m not Jen’s parent, but all things considered, it’s probably best if the parents handle this.”
Their relief was palpable. For a second, I thought they might high-five.
“However”—they froze and I could feel their apprehension—“I am not going to babysit them. We have dozens of kids going through the haunted house, and I can’t possibly keep my eyes on all of them, plus our four rascals. You have to accompany them. You can wear costumes, and we’ll give you roles to play. That way each of you will be responsible for your own child.”
Dana eagerly seized on my suggestion. “That’s fair.”
Dash didn’t seem too pleased. His hands on his hips, he stared at the floor. “If there’s no alternative, I guess I’ll have to agree.”
Dash and Dana collected their sons and left after promising to show up an hour before the haunted house opened for business.
Mars crooked a finger at Vegas. She shuffled toward him, her head down. “Get your things. You’re going home.”
“But I’m staying here!”
“Not tonight, you’re not.”
It was sort of silly to say that since dawn would break in about an hour. However, I desperately needed sleep, and it would be easier if the girls weren’t together, plotting.
I held out my hand to Jen. “Cell phone, please.”
Horrified, she clutched it to her chest. “What if I need it?”
“You won’t need it when you’re sleeping. Hand it over and hightail it for the third-floor bedroom.”
Her mouth pursed, and she banged the cell phone into my hand as she marched by me and clomped up the stairs.
Mars followed Vegas out. He turned to me, and I wanted to ask him what he thought had happened at the haunted house, but I decided it might be something best said out of earshot of the girls. Instead of saying good night, he said, “I’ll be back as soon as I make sure Vegas is safely home.”
“What for?” It wasn’t the nicest way to ask, but exhaustion had kicked social politeness right out of me.
“I’m not leaving you alone. Someone has to protect you.”
“Nina and Daisy are here with us. We’ll be fine. Maybe you’d better make sure Vegas doesn’t pull another stunt.”
He protested, but I stuck to my guns, locked the door behind him, and followed Nina upstairs to bed.
Not surprisingly, I slept late the next morning. Neither Mochie nor Daisy was in my bedroom when I woke. The rich aroma of coffee wafted to me as I trotted downstairs. Nina never made coffee. Aha. Jen must be trying to make amends. That was sweet.
But there was no one in the kitchen. Not even Mochie. I poured myself a mug of pumpkin spice coffee with a hint of nutmeg and strolled through the family room to the sunroom. Not a soul to be seen. It was nearly noon, and the sun had heated the brick floor. I longed to plop onto the sofa and lounge, but I knew I’d better find my little delinquent.
I ventured up the stairs and heard voices one flight up. Had Vegas returned? I’d better make sure Natasha, Mars, and I called each other to confirm where the girls were supposed to be so they couldn’t pull any more stunts. I padded up the stairs. June and Nina sat on chairs near an open storage-area door, looking through mementos. Jen clambered over boxes and odd pieces of old furniture, while Mochie and Daisy sniffed every corner.
“I found another one, Gramma June!” Her tone became decidedly more somber when she added as properly as a British schoolgirl, “Good morning, Aunt Sophie.”
Gramma June?
Some serious bonding had been going on while I slept.
Jen handed June a gold box tied with a ribbon. June opened it and cried, “Here he is!”
Nina and I peered over her shoulder at a box full of photos. “Good morning. I assume you put on the coffee, June?”
“That was Jen’s idea,” said June. “Look what she found. She’s such a big help.”
Ohhh, someone had already told her tale of woe to Gramma June to acquire a sympathetic ally.
June held up a picture. I recognized June and her sister, Faye, raising cut crystal martini glasses in a toast. June tapped the photo with her fingernail. “See the man in the corner?”
He probably didn’t know the photo had been taken. It captured him in profile, with a straight nose and lustrous wavy hair. I could imagine him playing the role of a sensitive 1960s poet and strumming a guitar.
“That’s Viktor.” June handed the photo to Nina and continued perusing the contents of the box.
Nina studied the photo. “I’m not surprised that women flocked to him. He looks like he should pose for the cover of a romance novel.”
“Add that seductive accent, and he was nearly irresistible.”
I stretched, ready for a second cuppa.
June turned to me. “Nina says the kids had quite a scare last night. It’s a shame some ghosts are malicious.”
Under my breath, so Jen wouldn’t hear, I said, “Please, June, we don’t want to encourage them.”
She waved her forefinger at me. “Don’t underestimate the powers of spirits. They’re not all as sweet as Faye.”
I was surrounded by believers. What happened to just enjoying Halloween as fun? Citing my need for a second cup of coffee, I hustled down to my bedroom and pulled on my favorite hang-around-the-house chamois soft trousers and a cinnamon fleece sweatshirt that did nothing for me but felt soft and cozy. I should have showered and fixed my hair properly, but I really wanted that second cup of coffee after the long night. I wound my ponytail around a hair stick to pin it up and hurried to the kitchen. Lunch would soon be in order. I was just pouring my second cup when I looked out the kitchen window and saw Humphrey step out of a parked car. He’d barely taken two steps when Mars and Vegas jaywalked across the street in the direction of my house and joined him as he walked toward my front door.
SEVENTEEN
Dear Natasha,
 
I thought the competition to have the best Christmas decorations was bad, but now the drive is on to impress the neighbors with Halloween decor. There are so many wonderful things we could do, but my boys and their friends aren’t easy to spook anymore. All my hard work with pum pkin s and branches and lights goes unappreciated. Any fresh ideas?
 
—Den Leader Dad in Wolf’s Head, Georgia
 
Dear Den Leader Dad,
 
Play a prank on your sons. Use PVC pipe to construct a human-sized cage. Enlist the assistance of a friend and dress him in a werewolf or Frankenstein costume. Put a strobe light on him inside the cage and let him surprise the neighborhood kids by being “alive” when they least expect it.
 
—Natasha
I met them at the front door and glanced around for another dreaded dead doll. Fortunately, I didn’t see one. “Has something happened, or is this some kind of intervention?”
Humphrey murmured, “We need to talk.”
Nina raced down the stairs. “I hate being out of the loop! What’s going on?”
Vegas didn’t bother saying hello. “Where’s Jen?”
I pointed upstairs. She took off like she hadn’t seen Jen in months. Mars slung an arm around my shoulders. “I hope it’s okay. Vegas pestered me to death about coming over here. She
had
to see Jen. Brrr, it’s cold in here. No wonder you look like a polar bear.”

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