Part 3 (2/2)

The day he started giving her as good as he got would be the day he saw Aunt Fiona for the first time.

”Dolly thinks I'll like what I find,” I said to break the silence as I reached the second floor. ”She just can't remember what it is.”

Everyone there had already seen the hea.r.s.e, the row of vintage caskets, and the ancient oval metal tub-once skirted and filled with ice to set beneath caskets at home wakes-so no one was skeeved by the knowledge of their presence in the shadowy darkness.

Eve rubbed her hands together. ”Open the d.a.m.ned doors.”

”Wait,” my father said, putting the box of lights on the floor. ”First we need to see the d.a.m.ned doors. He stood the giant flashlight-type thingies around the room, with two by the secret doors, switching them on as he went, turning the room to near daylight.

”Figures,” Eve said, hands on her hips. ”Leave it to Jaconetti to carry around a box of florescent phallic symbols. I'm surprised they don't flash his name.”

”Eve!” Aunt Fiona gasped, though she was grinning.

One of the lights went out immediately.

”Any batteries in that box, Dad?”

”Afraid not.” My father frowned. ”What the devil?” He stared aghast at the storage room entry and indicated a free-hanging splinter the size of his arm. ”These doors didn't look like this earlier.”

”What time earlier?” I asked.

”I left with the construction crew around seven thirty.”

”And I got here a little after eight, so the intruder didn't waste any time.”

Eve and I glanced at each other. Fiona caught the glance. My dad didn't.

”Somebody must have broken in,” I said.

Aunt Fiona stared into my eyes. ”Madeira? You don't sound too surprised.”

Sc.r.a.p. ”Okay, somebody did break in. But he's gone now, so it's all good.”

”He?” my father asked.

I huffed. ”Judging by the sound of him thumping down the stairs? Yes, it was probably a man.” A half-truth. ”Someone with a heavy and robust build. I didn't see him. It was too dark.”

”Madeira!” my father and Fiona snapped, in sync for once.

Eve chuckled. ”Our Miss Fix-It chased him away by herself.”

I picked up my baby cat and the b.u.t.terflies in my middle stopped fluttering. ”Chakra helped.”

My father frowned. ”Was the outside door open when you got here, because I locked it when I left.”

”Locked. I had to use my key.”

Given Dad and Aunt Fiona's black looks, it was a good thing I was too old for a spanking. They made me recap every detail.

By the time I finished, another of Nick's lights went out while my Dad walked the perimeter of the room, hands fisted. ”Here,” he called from the corner behind the caskets.

”What'd'ya know?” I said, coming up behind him. ”An open window. Is there a ladder out there?”

”No,” my dad said. ”He was a resourceful burglar. Probably the same one the night watchman heard. There are two huge wooden wire reels below the window, stacked, one atop the other.”

Dad turned back to me. ”You need to be proactive, Madeira. Get an alarm system. Now.”

”I was proactive. I chased him away. But yes, I agree on the alarm system. I should have had it done during the construction, but this is Mystic, after all. I didn't think it needed to top my list. I was wrong.”

”Can you afford the expense of an alarm system right now?” Aunt Fiona asked.

I sighed. ”I expected to bleed money for a while. I'm okay, and I love this place. I really do.” Ghost, burglar, lack of second-floor lights, and all. ”Now can we open the storage room?”

”You need new locks on these windows, too,” my father said, checking them all. ”Are you sure you don't need an investor?”

”No. Thank you, Dad. Just make a note. Window locks, an alarm system, and reel removal.”

He pulled out his trusty notebook and started his list. He enjoyed this partners.h.i.+p, of sorts, as much as I did. I'd accepted his presence and his expertise, yes, but I would not accept his money.

”Time for the grand opening,” I said. ”We should have brought trumpets.” I attempted to insert the key that Dolly said would fit the lock. ”Sc.r.a.p! My key doesn't work!”

Another NiCad fluorescent went out.

”Mad, didn't you get a new front door?” Eve asked. ”Which key are you using?”

I sighed. Either my intruder upset me more than I thought, or my lack of sleep was catching up with me. ”I'm using the new one, of course, also known as the wrong one.”

”What did you do with the original, Madeira?”

My father's tone made me feel like a child. ”I gave it to you.”

Aunt Fiona smothered a chuckle.

Dad shot her a look as he unhooked a hefty key ring from the key safe on his belt and began flipping through, somehow managing to identify most of them.

I held up a fluorescent to shed light on his quest as he tried several before one finally turned in the lock.

”Woo-hoo!” Eve's shout echoed in the cavernous room.

”Don't take that key from the lock,” I said, grabbing a bottle of Red Pa.s.sion nail polish, industrial strength, from my purse. With the brush, I dabbed a spot on the faded tab that once identified the key. ”Now we'll always be able to find it.”

My father cleared his throat at my efficiency after his scold. ”I'll have a copy made for you tomorrow.”

”Thanks, Dad.”

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