The Mystery Sisters series Box Set Read online

Ren jumped up and down. “Daddy and I already took Rosie for a walk! I tol’ him not to let her chase any squirrels, din’t I, Daddy?”

  “Yes, it’s a good thing you did, because she would have gotten away from me otherwise!” He patted Ren on her head.

  Max got a cup of coffee and sat down at the table. The sunlight on the back yard was beautiful and peaceful. She was beginning to think she should add a ‘scream’ porch to her condo in Colorado. “So we have the big tour tonight. Anything else on the docket for today?”

  “We’ll be going to church at 10:30,” Terry answered. “You are welcome to join us. Then we thought we’d get dinner at a nearby Amish restaurant.”

  “Let that be my treat,” Max said. “I really appreciate your hospitality.”

  Terry grinned. “I would like to argue with you, but my mom always said ‘Just say thank you.’ So, thank you.”

  “And Mother knows best.” Lil set a basket of rolls and small plates on the table. “Ren, would you get some knives?”

  “Sure!” Ren jumped down from her chair and raced to the kitchen.

  “And don’t run with them!” her grandmother called after her.

  Max enjoyed the simple service at a nearby Lutheran church. The restaurant served home-cooked food family style. Servers delivered platters heaped with roast beef and ham, bowls of mashed potatoes, sauerkraut, and fresh corn, and a crisp green salad to the table. Ren whispered to Max that they also had ‘very good apple pie with ice cream!’ They enjoyed that at the end of the meal.

  They spent the afternoon relaxing on the porch and napping to prepare for the big evening. Max and Lil decided to get a little more in the spirit of the event.

  “Ren, honey,” Lil said, “Do you have any old costumes around?”

  “Sure! We have a box upstairs. Rival and I can bring it down for you!” She dashed off to find her brother.

  Lil shook her head. “I wish I had a tenth of that energy.”

  A few minutes later, they heard arguing and a box bumping down the steps. Rival dragged the box into the living room and Ren pulled the lid off.

  “Ta-da!” she shouted.

  “Is there anything in there that will fit us?” Max asked.

  “Sure!” Ren was already pulling masks, unidentifiable apparel, and wigs out of the box. “Some of these are my mom and dad’s.” She grinned at them as if she was divulging a family secret.

  Lil found a tangled gray wig in the pile and put it on. She struck a pose. “”What do you think?”

  Ren clapped her hands. “Awesome, Grandma!” She pulled a cape, shimmering silver but wrinkled, from the box. “Try this on.”

  Lil whipped it over her shoulders with a flourish. “How about a mask?”

  Ren pulled out a black eye mask. “This is a good one. You can be the Lone Ranger or a witch or—“

  “I’m surprised you’ve heard of the Lone Ranger,” Max said. “If you don’t want it, Lil, I’ll take it.”

  They continued to paw through the collection and finally each carried an armload to their suite and dumped them on the beds. After much trying on and preening in front of full-length mirror, they made their choices. Max opted for her black slacks and turtleneck, a red cape, the black mask, and a headband made of red and gold snakes fanning out in a crown.

  Lil found a gray long dress in her suitcase and added the wig and the silver cape. She used makeup to produce finely arched brows, heavily outlined eyes, and dark streaks radiating from her eyes.

  Max looked her over and laughed. “I can’t decide if you look more like Kiss or a Goth.”

  “Either would be okay. But that headpiece is awesome. As Ren would say.”

  Max opened the door. “Let’s go get an expert opinion.”

  Rival and Ren perched in chairs on the porch, knees up and thumbs beating a tattoo on handheld video game keys. Ren looked up first. “Wow! You guys look rad!”

  Max looked at Lil. “Is that good?”

  Rival scoffed. “Nobody says rad any more, Ren.”

  “I do.” She stuck up her nose. “It means you look really great.” Rival nodded his head vigorously in agreement.

  Melody came out on the porch with a plate of sandwiches. “Wow! Is that stuff all from our costume box? I think I recognize some of it.”

  “It’s our clothes, your accessories,” Lil said. “I’m really excited about this evening. I feel like a kid again.”

  “Don’t push it,” Max said.

  The costumes created a stir. Bert, one of Terry’s co-workers at the bank said, “My wife tried to get me to dress up but I was too chicken. You ladies look great!”

  Max looked around. “Is Art reading in the garden tonight?”

  “Oh, I think so,” Camille said. “I should probably check.” She was soon back with a puzzled look on her face. “He’s not out there. I hope he’s not sick.” She pulled out her phone and tapped a number. After a short wait, she put the phone away. “That’s odd. No answer and no voicemail. Maybe after we get started, I’ll check his apartment.” She looked genuinely concerned.

  The first part of the evening went quickly with plenty of customers. Laughs and screams echoed through the old house. Max and Lil continued to handle tickets until the time for the bus tour.

  Camille returned after a search for Art, shrugging her shoulders. “No sign of him. I can’t imagine him not calling at least.”

  She continued to look worried as they put away the ticket tables to get ready for the tour.

  Terry walked out on the porch rubbing his hands together. “Good—glad you’re getting things in order out here. The tour company paid for the whole group in advance so we don’t have to collect ticket money. Mom, I would like you to be the ‘host’ in the kitchen. Here’s a script that you can read or ad lib—whatever you’re comfortable with. Aunt Max, how about the living room?”

  “That’s fine.”

  He handed a couple of sheets of typed paper to each of them and turned to Camille. “Any luck finding Art?”

  “No. I’m worried.”

  “I’m sure there’s a logical explanation.” He scratched his head. “Aunt Max, would you consider reading the scary stories book out in the garden instead?”

  Max nodded, the snakes on her head waving as she did so. “I doubt if I can do it with as much drama as Art, but I’ll do my best.”

  “Great. We’ll split the group in two with about ten or twelve people each. And Camille, would you mind being the guide in the living room?” Terry asked. She agreed, and Max handed her the script.

  The back garden was quiet; the local customers had left, and the tour group wouldn’t arrive in the garden until they had been through the whole house. Max could hear laughter and chattering coming from around the front of the house as apparently the bus unloaded its passengers.

  The sounds made a surreal background to the silence of the garden, almost as if she was in a protected sphere. She walked slowly around the path with a flashlight, checking that all of the lights were on and admiring again the chicken wire dancers. A witch leaning on a tree had been knocked over so she set it up and made sure the spotlight below it was aimed correctly.

  She rounded a corner and stopped short, her heart in her throat. A man’s shoe protruded from under a bush and it appeared that there was a leg in the shoe. She screeched, turned to run back into the house for Terry, and then hesitated. Something wasn’t right—the angle? The exposed skin? She moved closer and played the light over the limb.

  She let out a deep breath as she identified the skin as plastic and saw that the appendage ended at the knee. A nudge with her foot put it back off the path and hidden enough to scare the people it was supposed to scare.

  Her heart still pounded as she arranged herself in Art’s chair and tried to even out her breathing before the tour reached her. The disconnect of the beautiful evening, the lighted trees, and the ghostly dancing figures with the spookier garden installations and sinister sounds from the wind in the trees kept her on edge.<
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  Laughter and screams came out of the house as the tour moved through the rooms. Pulsing or colored lights visible through the windows advertised their progress. She leafed through the book and picked out two short stories to read to her guests.

  Finally, Terry’s voice cut through the garden. “This is the high point of our tour, the Haunted Garden. When you reach the back, you will find Medusa reading some bedtime stories.” He cackled. Lots of excited chatter followed his speech and small groups began to move along the paths.

  Max stood and moved into the shadows, unashamedly eavesdropping on conversations. Most of the tour members seemed to be her age or older.

  Three women walked along one path, discussing a male tour member who was ‘certainly free with his hands.’ Other comments were interspersed with oohs and ahs over the white flowers proliferating in the garden.

  Two men discussed their golf scores and missed most of the scary spots. One man mentioned the story of the nun’s habit; apparently Terry had passed it on in his introduction to the house and its history. Occasionally, startled squeaks followed by embarrassed laughter wafted through the garden.

  As the first group neared her chair, Max sat again and opened the storybook. Max expected that one of the children’s stories would probably be enough for this group. She waited until ten or twelve had gathered around her.

  “This story has been handed down for generations in these hills and people swear it’s true. It was a dark, stormy night…”

  One woman, perhaps a little younger than Max, listened thoughtfully and nodded. She had soft blonde curls and blue eyes that widened in alarm during the tense parts of the story.

  When Max finished the story, she closed the book and gave an evil grin. “Any questions?”

  Everyone in the group shook their heads and applauded. Several thanked her and someone said “Nice job!” They started to move away, but the blonde woman hung back.

  Max tilted her head and waited.

  The woman tittered a little, and almost blushed. “I just wanted to ask you about someone. Al Carson? Do you know him?”

  Max frowned. “You mean someone from here? Burnsville?”

  “Yes,” the woman rushed ahead. “We met on a cruise and he was from here, but I haven’t been able to get hold of him on his cell, and I don’t see him in the phone book. He must not have a landline. So many people don’t any more. I just thought you might know him.”

  “Oh, no. My sister and I are just visiting her son—my nephew—and we volunteered to help out here. We’ve only met a few local people.”

  Now the woman giggled. “I’m sorry. I just assumed…Great job on the story, by the way.”

  “Thank you. I’m just filling in for the guy who usually does it. Enjoy your trip!”

  “Thank you.” She moved on down the path as another group from the tour bus gathered to hear the story.

  More applause greeted the end of the story, and the last group finally headed back to the bus.

  Max closed her book and hoisted herself from the chair. When she got to the house, she turned out the garden lights. The last of the bus tour people headed out the front door and the volunteers gathered in the living room.

  Camille brought out a couple of bottles of wine, plastic cups, a wedge of cheese, and crackers. Rival and Ren eyed the wine bottles with suspicion, and Camille said “Oops! I forgot. There’re juice boxes in the kitchen refrigerator. Do you want to go get them?”

  The kids raced to be first in the kitchen, accompanied by shouts and a little pushing.

  Terry just shook his head and turned to the group. “Great effort tonight, folks. The tour guide was very impressed and she will recommend the stop for more groups. I think we’re going to make a sizeable contribution toward the new auditorium.”

  The group broke into applause and chatter. A young blonde woman standing by Max leaned over and said, “You’re Terry’s mother? You must be very proud. He’s done a great job.”

  “Actually, I’m his aunt—that’s his mother over there in the gray wig— but we are both proud of him.”

  The blonde held out a hand. “I’m Denise Jansen, by the way. I’m one of the local dentists, but I’ve worked with Terry on the food pantry committee.”

  “Nice to meet you. Where were you working tonight?”

  A man next to her, Vince something who Terry had said was a science teacher at the high school, said “Upstairs. She was my assistant. We had to keep that witch’s cauldron in the bathtub bubbling.”

  They sipped their wine and traded stories about their patrons in each area.

  A half hour later, they were in the car headed home.

  “We got so many compliments as people left,” Melody said. “They were really impressed.”

  Max sat forward from the front seat. “One woman asked me if I knew someone named Al Carson. She, of course, thought I was local. She said she met him on a cruise and thought he was from Burnsville. Do either of you know him?”

  Melody shook her head and looked at Terry. “I’ve never heard the name. Have you?”

  “No, and I know about everyone in town through the bank. Maybe she got the town wrong.”

  Ren, sitting between Max and Lil, bounced up and down. “We really scared one lady, didn’t we, Rival?”

  Rival, in the third seat, whooped. “We sure did! We thought she was gonna have a heart attack!”

  Terry smiled, “Well, we don’t want that. Then no one would come.”

  “But if she died, the house would really be haunted,” Rival said.

  “Let’s change the subject,” Melody said. “How about some popcorn when we get home?”

  Chapter Six

  Lil

  Terry came home early on Monday. “A customer this afternoon said some of the signs on the lane are down at the haunted house. Kids, I suppose. I’m going out to set them back up so we’ll be ready for tonight. It’s starting to cloud up; we may be in for some rain. That’ll probably keep the crowd down.”

  Lil closed the book she was reading. “I’ll help.” She looked pointedly at Max.

  A big sigh. “Sure.” Max hoisted herself up from the chaise lounge.

  Lil rolled her eyes. “Don’t put yourself out.” It had been a long day. Lil figured they were both bored, and therefore crabby.

  Terry looked from one to the other. “Really, I can handle it.”

  “Sorry I snapped. I need to do something.” Max smiled faintly.

  The sisters followed Terry out to his car, but despite Max’s apology, the atmosphere was still a little tense. As they drove, huge black clouds rolled in from the west. They arrived at the entrance to the lane and got out of the car. Lil put her hand to her mouth. “Oh, my goodness!”

  All of the signs had been knocked over into the lane. Most were bent and blown up against trees or under shrubs. The wind built, shaking loose leaves down and rattling branches. Lil looked up in alarm at a howl that came through the woods. The loose signs flopped and somersaulted as they rushed to pick them up.

  Max brought two back to Terry, breathing hard. “Where are those kids of yours when we need them?” She winked. “The ground isn’t as far away for them.”

  “True that.” Terry laid all of the signs in the trunk. “I think we’ll wait to put these back up when we leave. Maybe this will blow through. I want to check the house. Back in your chariot, ladies.”

  They drove up to the front of the house. The rain began with a vengeance. The screen door banged in the wind and the bats suspended from the porch ceiling whipped back and forth in a creepy life-like frenzy. Some of the fake cobwebs came loose and bunched together in non-life-like balls.

  Terry grabbed a flashlight from the glovebox. “Follow me.” He turned to look at them. “Unless you just want to wait here.”

  “We’re with you.” Lil pulled the hood of her raincoat up and opened her door. “I’m not staying here.”

  Max didn’t say anything but followed right behind the other two. They hur
ried into the house to get out of the rain. The porch floor seemed creakier, and the inside door screeched in protest as Terry pushed it open.

  “It wasn’t locked,” he said. “I wonder if I forgot last night.” He hit the old style push button light switch. Nothing happened. “The power must be out.”

  He aimed his flashlight around the entry. A small table by the stairs was tipped over, and the beam picked out glistening pieces of glass scattered on the floor and three black silk roses lying in the shards.

  Terry shook his head. “This isn’t good.” He opened the living room door and swept the light around the room. “Looks okay.” They made the same checks of the dining room and kitchen and found no damage in either room.

  “Do we need to check upstairs?” Lil asked.

  “I don’t know…it doesn’t look like…”

  Max interrupted. “Someone knocked the table over, and if they weren’t headed into the other rooms down here, they must have gone upstairs. Why would anyone come in, knock over a table, and leave again?”

  “You’re right. We’re here—we might as well check.” He headed up the stairs, aiming the light down at the steps, so the women didn’t miss their footing. Lil shuddered as she looked over her son’s shoulder at looming darkness above them.

  Max brought up the rear. “I hope they left the playroom alone. The kids would be crushed.”

  “You’re right,” Lil answered.

  Terry reached the top and started to head toward the playroom, but turned instead toward the small bedroom at the top of the stairs. He pushed the door open with his left arm and shined the flashlight at the woman in the chair.

  Lil peered over his shoulder and said, “I’m glad you took the axe out of her head.”

  Terry said nothing, just kept the light trained on the chair. He made a choking sound.

  “Terry? What’s the matter?” Lil looked up in her son’s face.

  “Mom, Aunt Max—maybe you should go back downstairs. No, wait, we only have one flashlight. Just stand over there.” He directed them away from the bedroom door with his light. But Lil strained to see what he didn’t want them to see and could feel Max pushing up behind her.