Page 45 of Crazy Spooky Love
I look at him, doubtful. “That’s not a lot to go on.”
Isaac shakes his head. “My dear, if you’re going to be a sleuth, you need to think like a sleuth.”
“I’m not Miss Marple, Isaac. Help a girl out?”
He scans the room. “Look around. Check the walls for signs of any disturbance in the brickwork, hidden compartments, loose floorboards.”
“That’s all very well for you to say.” The violently patterned rug is huge and has been down for longer than I’ve been alive, lifting it will likely make a dust cloud that could killme.
He crosses to the chimney breast. “There was always a live fireplace here when my parents had this room. It’s been bricked up. Tap it, you’ll probably be able to tell.”
I follow him across the room and do as I’m told, and believe it or not I can detect the change in sound as I rap my knuckles lightly on the wall.
“There,” I whisper, in wide-eyed wonder. “You’re right.”
“Of course I’m right,” he says. “It’s hardly a surprise that these houses were built with fireplaces. We didn’t have fancy radiators back in those days, you know.”
I feel scolded. “I was only saying.”
“You need to knock a hole through and check inside the fireplace.”
I balk at the idea of damaging the property, and even more so at the thought of ripping that amazing wallpaper.
“What do you expect me to do, Isaac, put my fist through? I’ll end up in A&E. Besides, why do you think we should check your parents’ room in particular?”
“I didn’t say in particular, I just said you should check it. You’re going to have to do this in every room, not just this one.”
I huff and make a mental note to check the internet tonight to see if anyone has writtenBasic Sleuthing for Dummies,because one of those big comforting yellow guides would come in really handy right about now.
“Right. I’m not going to damage anything in here at this very moment,” I say, voicing my decision for Isaac’s benefit. “Let’s start at the bottom and work our way up through the house.”
He doesn’t look all that impressed. “To the cellar, then.”
It’s my turn to be unimpressed. I don’t need a Dummies guide to tell me that bad things happen in cellars. We troop downstairs, and I decide that if I’m tackling the cellar, then it’s definitely a case of safety in numbers.
“Marina? Artie?” I call as I follow Isaac toward a door underneath the staircase.
“We’re watching snooker with Dougie,” Marina calls back. “Be there in a sec, Roberts’s on for a potential one-four-seven.”
“I have no clue what that means, but I’m on course to be potentially murdered in the cellar, so get your backsides out here and come down there with me!” I aim for a jokey tone, but I think it might have come out more shrill/desperate/terrified. It has the desired effect though, because they both dash through and join me by the cellar door.
“Who’s going to murder you?”
“I don’t know, do I?” I whisper to Marina. “It’s a cellar.”
She looks at the cellar door and then back to me. “If Roberts gets a maximum break and I miss it, I’ll murder you myself.”
Artie scratches his head. “You die either way in that scenario, Melody.”
“Thank you, Artie.” I smile wide. “That’s so incredibly comforting.”
Marina turns her head and shouts over her shoulder. “Keep an eye on things for me, Dougie!”
I lift my eyebrows at her for shortening his name in such a pally fashion, but she just shrugs and laughs.
“I can be friends with the ghosts too, you know. Especially young, hot ones.”
Artie rolls his shoulders and steps forward. “Let me go first.” For a moment I think about arguing, but then I change my mind. Artie Elliott is coming out of his shell more and more every day, and the fact that he’s putting himself forward like this is endearing. Plus, despite the fact that I hang out with the undead, I am actually a bit scared of dark, damp cellars, so I magnanimously agree and step aside. He turns the paint-encrusted key with some difficulty and twists the handle a few times. With a sharp yank, the door swings open.
