Library Cat Magical Mysteries Box Set (Books 1-3), page 39
A motor clicked on and hummed to life. The little flaps on the air conditioning vents fluttered as cold air poured into the room.
Except, as I watched the vents, dust rained down into the room. Dust? That made little sense. No one’s air conditioning remains dormant long enough to gather dust—not this time of year in Arizona. “Rend?” I asked. “Can you smell anything?” I pointed at the vents. The light coming in through the windows made the room take on a hazy quality, showing all the particulates suspended in the air. I pulled up my shirt over my nose and narrowed my eyes.
“The bedroom, now,” Rend shouted. Crouching low, he took my wrist and practically dragged me out of there. “Get under the blanket.” He swept the quilt off the bed and over our heads.
“Good grief, it’s always the Just One Bed Trope with you. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you arranged this.”
“Quit joking,” he said. “It’s serious. That powder is arsenic. I can smell it.”
“Can it kill you by breathing it in?” I asked. For once, my encyclopedic knowledge was coming up short.
“I don’t know, you want to find out?”
“Point taken,” I said. “Can you smell the vim of the magic user right now?”
“Not with all this dust,” he said. “They’re clever, that’s for sure. We need to get out of here.”
Awkwardly waddling underneath the blanket, we went to the door. Locked. There was no way to lock these doors from the outside—unless you were a powerful magic user.
“None of the windows open,” I said.
“I know,” he said. Saguaro Estates had plenty of windows, but none of them opened. The fear was that the residents would open a window and then forget, thereby wasting untold amounts of electricity in air conditioning costs.
I took my phone out of my pocket, but the screen was dead. I pressed the side buttons to wake it up, but nothing happened, even though I knew it had plenty of battery life left.
“My radio’s not working,” Rend said, trying the same thing.
“Someone must have cast a silencio spell,” I said.
“That works on electronics?” he asked. “That means turning off the thermostat won’t work either.”
“If the witch wants it to, then it will disable electronics,” I said, then let out a cough. It was getting stuffy under this quilt, and it was not coming close to protecting us from all the arsenic powder blowing around the room.
“You gotta get us out of here, Francie,” he said. “If magic’s holding the door closed, then I won’t be able to kick it open.” He looked at me in the shadowy, dusty, arsenic-laden blanket-tent. His eyes were keen with adrenaline and he wasn’t starting to panic… yet. He took my hand and was about to say something, but the second our skin touched, the amulet on my neck grew icy cold and my arm pointed at the door automatically.
A dark purple blast left my fingertips and shot straight through the door. Two of the three hinges blew clean off, and the door hung crookedly, like when a little kid has an extremely loose tooth they’re too scared to pull out.
“What was that?” Rend asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. I mean, I sorta knew. It was the voidmagic of the amulet. But beyond that, I was just as clueless as Rend.
“I can smell your vim, Francie, and that was not yours,” he said.
“I’ve been taking magic lessons,” I said. “It’s complicated.”
“Let’s get out of here,” he said. “There’s a whacko on the loose. We need to have the rooms evacuated in case the arsenic is going through everyone’s vents.” Rend started knocking on the doors, telling the residents to evacuate to the recreation area. I ran to the reception desk when I bumped into Suzie, the nurse who Walter had asked to give him a sponge bath.
“Evacuate the rooms,” I told her. “And put the place on lockdown.”
“Which is it?” she asked. “Lockdown or evacuate?”
“Evacuate to the rec room,” I said. “But lock all the exits. Walter’s killer—and Irenia’s killer—is inside the building right now. They just attacked me and Rend.”
“Who?” she said. “Wait, I thought Irenia killed Walter.” I quickly got her up to speed, hating to take precious moments away from our pursuit. When I was done, she nodded and took off to the reception area to make an announcement. I helped lead the residents to the rec room, many of whom were more stubborn than a donkey getting a bath.
In the rec room, Romulo had opened up shop, sitting at a long table reading manuscripts, red pen in hand. Sitting opposite him was Len, nodding at everything he said.
“What’s going on, Francie?” he asked. “They said something about a lockdown?”
I didn’t want to cause a panic and debated saying it was a fire drill. But then I decided that would be the worst thing I could do. There was a dangerous fiend in the building and everyone inside had the right to defend themselves—and the first step of self-defense was knowing what you were up against.
“Walter’s killer is on the loose in the building,” I said. “They just attacked me and Rend.”
“What’s that?” Romulo said. “They attacked Rend? Are they stupid or just eight feet tall? Because you’d need to be one or the other to take on that beast of a man.”
“They’re using magic,” I said. I didn’t think Romulo was the killer. I didn’t think it was Walter’s wife or daughter or personal assistant. Walter had never been the target. He was merely an unfortunate casualty.
The real root of the murders lay with Irenia and whatever had been in her trunk.
My head spun as I frantically tried to think of what I’d missed, the comments or clues from the last few days that had failed to register.
Romulo had the stack of memoirs on the table. I snatched them up and started reading.
I had little skill with magic.
I didn’t know how to control my voidmagic power.
The only thing left was reading, my superpower.
I sifted through the stories of days past, having to make sure I didn’t lose myself in the narratives. Some of them were pretty interesting, but now wasn’t the time to get swept away.
I found one of Irenia’s chapters and read it carefully. This chapter talked about her youth.
We whizzed through the air, pushing the brooms to the limit, knowing that there wasn’t anyone around within 500 miles to issue us speeding tickets. We hadn’t consumed any mind-altering potions—we didn’t need to. Seeing Def Leppard in person, in the front row, was all the natural high we needed that night. It was hard to ride a broom in high heels and a leather miniskirt, but as my grandmother used to say, beauty must suffer. The show was amazing, being surrounded by thousands of other people who were buzzing with the same manic energy from the music was something I’ll never forget. That energy is a real thing, I think. When it’s strong enough, it can live on, a tangible artifact of so many happy people. The ghost of a good time. I can feel it still when I hold my signed concert ticket from that night. I’ve kept it all these years. But I can’t find it now. I always stowed it away in my father’s old army trunk. But it’s not in there.
Romulo had circled these last few sentences in red and written: don’t break the fourth wall and speak to the audience directly.
But I was so excited, I barely registered Romulo’s literary critique.
“Rend!” I shouted. “Come here! I know who the killer is!”
Chapter 31
I got Suzie to tell me which room I wanted, then commanded her to stay with the residents in the rec room. The killer knew we were on to them—hence trying to turn me and Rend into arsenic-powdered donuts. Who knew what else they’d stoop to in order to escape justice?
Rend looked at me, and I nodded. Using his well-muscled leg and the menacing jackboots he always wore, he kicked in the door. “Wait here,” he said.
“Okay,” I said.
There was no way I was going to wait outside. But I let him go inside before disobeying.
“I said wait outside,” he said. “I need to clear the apartment.”
“I doubt they’re in here,” I said.
“They could have set up a booby—”
I pulled out my wand and pointed it at the bedroom door. I didn’t even think—didn’t even have any concept of what I was doing. But my amulet went cold and so did my right arm, from my heart to the shoulder to the tips of my fingers. I shot out a blast and it surrounded the door, creating a solid purple shield.
“What are you doing?” Rend asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I think something bad is behind that door. Let’s go in the hallway.” We retreated a bit, while I kept my icy wand leveled at the door.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Francie,” Rend said. “You think the killer’s in there?”
“No,” I said. “I think she left something for us.” From the (hopefully) safety of the hallway, I released the shield. The bedroom door flew open and a flurry of kitchen knives shot out, flying across the room, burying the tips deep into the opposite wall.
“Ouch,” Rend said. “That would have been a close shave.”
“That would have been a deboning,” I said.
“Good thing you don’t know how to do what you’re told,” he said.
“Is that a thank you?” I said.
“No,” he said. “If I thank you for saving my life, you’ll never listen to anything I say ever again.”
“I’m probably not going to listen anyway,” I said. “So might as well thank me.”
“Thank you, Francie,” he said. Then he took my face in his rough hands and kissed me.
This was the second time we’d kissed—both times, oddly enough, had been at Saguaro Estates. The first time had been twenty years ago. His mother had been sick, and I’d been a volunteer. Once, in the dark, he’d kissed me—and we’d never spoken of it again.
“You’re welcome?” I said. I was dazed and not sure what to think.
“Sorry,” Rend said. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Way to ruin the romance. But what else do you expect from a canine?” Kong said.
“Kong!” I said. “When did you get here?”
“Just now,” he said. “I felt that something was wrong. Between the poison dust and flying knives, I’d say I was correct?”
“Absolutely,” I said.
“Where’s Hortensia?” Kong asked.
I wanted to slap myself for being so stupid.
“Who’s Hortensia?” Rend asked.
“One of the residents,” I said. I didn’t want to blow her cover, seeing as how she was a wanted fugitive. “That’s Kong’s nickname for her. Her real name is Clara.” Clara was her alias.
“She’s a powerful witch?” Rend asked. “She can help us?”
“I hope so,” I said. “If we can find her. Honestly, I’m surprised she didn’t show up when the trouble started. She’s nosy.”
“Have Suzie make an announcement,” Rend said.
The more I thought about it, there was only one thing that would have prevented Hortensia from coming out to see the action. “Hey, your nose is good,” I said. “Can you smell any cigarette smoke?”
Rend led us down the hallway. “I smell something here,” he said. “Come on.”
I’d never been to Hortensia’s apartment at Saguaro Estates. I had, however, seen her smoking cigarettes inside the supply closet numerous times, but the supply closet was in the other direction.
I smelled it too. Smoke. Not just cigarette smoke either.
And lots of it.
“Fire!” Kong said. He raised his front paw and a strong gust of wind blew the corridor clean. It also blew the door open. We were on a roll, the three of us. Me with my voidblast, Rend with his jackboots and Kong with his wind magic—who needs a set of keys?
Hortensia was lying on the couch, her head tilted to the side, ear resting on her shoulder. At her age, sleeping like that was going to give her a wicked crick in the neck when she woke up. Her bathrobe was loosely tied and one slipper had fallen off onto the carpet.
And the commotion hadn’t woken her up?
“Hortensia?” I shouted. She scrunched her eyes shut and fidgeted her metallic hand back underneath her robe and was still again. Next to her, a crystal ashtray was ablaze.
“Oh good, I was just leaving,” Mabel said.
She looked wild, eyes wide as ping-pong balls and her sweaty hair plastered to her head. “Sometimes you have to tie up loose ends, you know? And sometimes when you tug on one little annoying thread, three more come loose and you have to deal with them too.”
“We know you did it,” I said.
“Obviously,” she said. “But it doesn’t matter. After I seal the four of you into this room and it burns down, all that’s going to be left is a big staff meeting where the management yells at the nurses for not enforcing the no-smoking policy strictly enough. That brave werewolf chief and the plucky librarian. Died trying to save one of the residents. How sad. The cat too. Even if people don’t care about the three of you getting burned to a crisp, everyone will care about the cat.”
“Is this the sort of evil gloating you were talking about in Irenia’s apartment?” Rend asked.
“Yes, isn’t it lovely?” I said.
“I don’t really care for the burned to a crisp part,” Rend said.
“Neither do I,” I said. “Which is why we’re not going to.”
“They gloat so lavishly when they think they’re going to get away with it,” Kong said. “It’s almost cute.”
“Almost,” I said. “But you messed with the wrong plucky librarian, Mabel. You should have left Hort—I mean Clara—alone.” I’d almost forgotten to use her fake name.
I couldn’t go for my wand just yet, because Mabel had hers leveled at Hortensia. Meanwhile, the fire was threatening to spill over and engulf the coffee table.
“I had to,” Mabel said. “She was in the supply closet having a cigarette when I was coming down from the ventilation shaft.”
“You were in the ventilation shaft?” Rend asked. That explained how the arsenic had gotten into Irenia’s apartment.
“Why not?” she said. “My back’s going to be a little stiff tomorrow morning, but I’m seventy, not dead.”
“Be careful, Francie,” Kong said. “If she got the drop on Hortensia, then she must be powerful.”
“Not powerful,” I said. “Just a spiteful old witch with no regard for human life. That’s why you killed Walter, right? He saw you that morning when you stole Irenia’s autographed concert ticket, didn’t he? Probably threatened to tell the management?”
“You know what he said?” Mabel asked. “He said that he didn’t feel comfortable doing a reading here if there was a thief lurking in the shadows. Then he said if I was forty years younger, he would let me earn his silence, but he had no appetite for wrinkly old plums. The nerve! I’m three years younger than him!”
“So you poisoned him because he… didn’t blackmail you for carnal favors?” I asked. An ember popped and landed on the coffee table. It burned for a moment before fizzling out. But the next one would be stronger.
“Didn’t you listen when I was talking about loose threads?” she said. “You never know what an ill-tempered old man like him would do. That autograph is worth thousands of dollars. Maybe he’d look it up and discover he wanted it for himself. Maybe he’d tell the management just to spite me. Maybe he’d blackmail me for money. Who knows? But that’s the first rule of larceny—don’t leave any witnesses. I went up to him with eyes cast down, lots of compliments and begging for mercy. I gave him the donut and asked, ‘can we talk’ and he took the donut and told me to relax, that he wasn’t going to say anything. Yeah right. You can’t trust a man like that. Good thing he ate the donut, though. That was a gamble on my part, but what else could I do in the middle of such a big crowd?”
Rend was stoically watching as Mabel explained her evil motives. I knew he was calculating how fast he could tackle her versus how fast she could fling a lethal spell at us. Kong was thinking the same thing, only Kong’s plans probably included eye-gouging. “Then Irenia figured it out,” I said.
“That stupid memoir writing,” Mabel said. “That was all your fault.”
“Oh no,” I said. “That’s your fault. I wouldn’t have had to schedule a replacement activity if Walter had been alive to do his book signing.”
“Ah well, funny how things turn out,” Mabel said. “Either way, she never would have gone in her trunk looking for the autograph if that writing assignment hadn’t gotten her nostalgic for the good old days. When she couldn’t find it, I was the number one suspect. Of course I was; who else would have taken it?”
“What autograph?” Rend asked.
“In 1972 we saw Bob Seger in the front row at the Great Western Forum in Los Angeles.”
“I thought it was Bruce Springsteen,” I said.
“I could have sworn she said Def Leppard,” Kong said.
“She was half-senile,” Mabel said. “Def Leppard wasn’t even a band in 1972. She couldn’t remember what she had for breakfast. It was Bob Seger. I have the ticket stub to prove it. After the show, we snuck backstage and were waiting in line for autographs. Irenia said she was feeling woozy, all sweaty and exhausted and ears ringing. Being the good friend I was, I went to get her a cup of water, but the lines at the concession stands were ridiculous. When I got back, she was getting her autograph and the roadie guarding the line said the band members had to leave and he was cutting the rest of us off. She got the last autograph—but it was rightfully mine! I was technically in line in front of her the whole time. And you know what? She made up that story about feeling woozy. Because after she got that autograph, she was bright eyed and bushy-tailed as could be. I gave her the water and she took one sip and then tossed it in the trash can. Woozy, yeah right. The nerve. She wanted something to lord over me. Might have had to do with how her boyfriend left her for me. But that wasn’t my fault either, since she was a prude and I was more adventurous. Did she blame herself or her cheating boyfriend? No. People never look inward and examine their own actions. She did it on purpose. For the last fifty years she bragged about that autograph just to spite me. She said that Bob kissed her on the cheek and the bass player pinched her on the bum. That was my kiss. My pinch! She knew I took the autograph, so I decided to kill two birds with one stone and make it look like she killed Walter.”
