Wicked Business

  “Do you see the tablet?” I asked him.

  “Yes,” he said. “It’s partially covered by dirt. It’s no wonder Carl couldn’t find it.”

  “So what are you going to do now?” I asked him. “How are you going to get back here?”

  “I’m not. There’s no way.”

  “But I’m here,” I said.

  “You’ll have to go back by yourself, and I’ll find my way out.”

  “What? Are you crazy? I’m not walking back through all those tunnels by myself!”

  “It’s easy,” Diesel said. “They’re spray painted. The only other option is to come down here.”

  I looked over the edge. “It’s a long way.”

  “I’ll catch you.”

  “Anarchy said there were spiders and bats that way.”

  “And?”

  “I don’t like spiders and bats.”

  “You have to choose.”

  “Okay, I’m coming down.”

  “Great.”

  I was on the edge of the hole, but I couldn’t bring myself to jump. I’d start, but then I’d chicken out.

  “Oh, for the love of Pete,” Diesel said.

  I glared down at him. “This is all your fault. This was your stupid idea. And then you went and fell in the hole. What the heck were you thinking?”

  “I was thinking I had to get the tablet.”

  “Even your monkey knew it was a bad idea, but did you listen to him? No, no, no.”

  “Women,” Diesel said to Carl. “Can’t live with them. Can’t live without them.”

  “Ugh!” I said. “Idiot! I’ll meet you at the car.”

  I turned and huffed off to the W tunnel, put my head down, and stomped and swore, following the yellow splotches. “Stupid, stupid, stupid!” I said. “I can’t believe I got talked into this harebrained idea.” A spider as big as a silver dollar dropped onto my arm, and I backhanded it off into the black beyond. “Special abilities, my foot. Enhanced senses. See where that gets you. For sure not out of a twenty-foot hole. At least I can make cupcakes.” I passed through the smaller domed room, and several sets of glittery little eyes reflected light from my headlamp. The eyes started to move toward me and I yelled at them. “Do not mess with me. I’m not in a good mood. Shoo!”

  I marched through yet another tunnel, on a rant about Diesel and rats and roaches, and I looked ahead and saw the ladder. I was up the ladder and out the trapdoor and revolving door in a heartbeat. I took my headlamp off, ran my hands through my hair, and shook myself to make sure I didn’t have hitchhikers. I took a minute to calm myself, and then I left the building and walked out into the night air.

  By the time I got to the car, I was worrying about Diesel and Carl. Diesel was down there without a map or yellow paint splotches to guide him. He was a big, strong guy. He was brave. He was smart. He could block bad energy and do who knows what else. None of that would help if a tunnel caved in.

  An hour later, I was still waiting. I watched my cell phone for a text message, and I tried calling Diesel’s phone. Nothing turned up on either. I was cold and I was scared. The car was locked. My purse was inside the car. A man and a monkey I loved, at least some of the time, were trapped underground. I decided I’d give Diesel until ten o’clock, and then I’d get people into the tunnels to search for him.

  A little after nine, I was sitting on the curb by the Aston Martin, and I felt hands at my waist and was lifted to my feet.

  “I was worried about you,” Diesel said, wrapping his arms around me, holding me close. “I should have been more careful.”

  He kissed me, and just when it was getting really interesting, Carl climbed up my back and sat on my head.

  Diesel took Carl off my head and remoted the car open. “I was afraid you might leave without me.”

  “I didn’t have a car key.”

  Diesel opened the door for me. “Is that the only reason?”

  “Of course not. I wouldn’t leave Carl stranded.”

  Carl rushed into the car and jumped into the backseat. Carl was ready to go home.

  I blew out a sigh. “I wouldn’t leave you stranded, either.”

  “You were worried about me,” Diesel said.

  “Yes.”

  Diesel handed the broken tablet to me. It was marble, with engraved writing, and if it had been whole, it would have been the size of a legal envelope.

  “Is this the tablet?” he asked me.

  “I can’t say for certain, but chances are very good. Its energy is identical to that of the stone.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  “You’ve been frozen in one spot, staring into that bowl of frosting, for the last ten minutes,” Clara said to me. “Are you asleep?”

  “I had a late night. I don’t know how I used to do it when I worked restaurant shifts and got by on four hours of sleep.”

  The back door opened and Glo walked in. She dropped her messenger bag on the floor, along with Broom and her jean jacket, and she shuffled off to get her bakery smock.

  “I’m done,” Glo said. “I didn’t sleep all night. I need coffee.”

  Clara wiped her hands on a towel. “I could swear I hear music.”

  “It’s Hatchet,” Glo said. “He followed me here. I can’t get rid of him. He was outside my window all night, playing his lute and singing embarrassing songs to me. I couldn’t get him to stop. If he keeps this up, I’m going to get evicted.”

  Clara and I went to the door and looked out at Hatchet. He was dressed up in his Sunday best, wearing a slouchy green velvet hat with a big plum-colored plume.

  “O Glo, O Glo, I love thee so,” he sang. He strummed a couple notes on his lute and bowed to us. “I bid thee morning, fair women. Wouldst fair Glo wish to hear my tune?”

  “No!” Glo yelled from inside the kitchen. “Go away!”

  “She jests,” Hatchet said. “Glo is witty. Glo is pretty. Glo doth make my heart sore, my manhood sing.”

  Clara closed and locked the back door.

  “I’m going to throw up if I have to hear any more about his manhood,” Glo said. “It’s just wrong to be singing about it while you’re playing a lute.”

  She went to the front shop, turned the CLOSED sign to OPEN, and unlocked the front door. I brought out the last tray of cupcakes and transferred them into the display case, and spotted Hatchet on the sidewalk. I could see him through the front window, strumming and singing to people passing by.

  “My love’s lips of cherry make me merry. Turgid nipples and tongue like a cat. I’d doth give her my hat for one hot kiss. Kiss, kiss, I miss my Glo,” Hatchet sang.

  Glo looked down at herself. “What’s a turgid nipple? Is it good?”

  Mrs. Kramer bustled into the bakery. “There’s a strange man outside singing about turgid nipples.” She looked at Glo. “I think he’s singing about your turgid nipples.”

  Glo stormed out of the bakery and yelled at Hatchet. “Stop it this instant. You have no business singing about my nipples. You’ve never even seen them. And besides, nipples are private. How would you like it if I sang songs about your johnson?”

  “I would like it,” Hatchet said.

  “If you keep this up, I’m going to turn Broom loose on you.”

  “How doth my johnson love thee?” Hatchet sang. “Let me count the ways. Upside down and round and round . . .”

  Glo stomped back into the bakery and slammed the door shut.

  “I’d like a loaf of seeded rye, sliced,” Mrs. Kramer said. “And two strawberry cupcakes.”

  Diesel rolled into the bakery at noon, looking fresh as a daisy.

  “You slept all morning, didn’t you?” I asked him.

  “Not all morning.” He helped himself to coffee. “I see you have a minstrel today. I had my window down when I drove by, and he was singing about Glo’s fuzzy peach cheeks.”

  Glo opened the bakery door and threw a bagel at Hatchet. It hit him in the head and knocked his hat off.

  “Stop it
!” Glo shouted at him. “I hate you.”

  Mr. Ryan followed Glo back inside. “Do you have any cheese Danish left?”

  “Sure,” Glo said. “How many would you like?”

  “I hate to take you away from all this fun,” Diesel said, “but I have a meeting set up with Anarchy, and I need you to come with me.”

  “Now?”

  “I’m meeting her in the parking lot of the Waterfront Hotel. It shouldn’t take long. I’ll bring you back here after.”

  I looked over at Clara. “Is that okay?”

  “Yes. You’re done baking, and you can do cleanup when you get back. Take whatever time you need.”

  “I’d really appreciate it if you’d jump the curb and run over Hatchet for me,” Glo said.

  Diesel smiled at her. “He’s in love.”

  I changed out of my chef coat, grabbed my shoulder bag, and we went out to the car.

  “Why do I have to go with you? Do you need a witness to the defusing?”

  “I’m not doing any defusing. The request has been withdrawn.”

  “Why?”

  “I suspect it has to do with Wulf. Technically, Anarchy has his power, and maybe he thinks he can get it back somehow.”

  “Can’t you take it away from her and give it back to Wulf?”

  “That’s not in my skill set.”

  “Then why are we meeting with her?”

  “I spoke to her this morning and told her we were ready to trade her half of the tablet for the real stone.”

  “You don’t have the real stone.”

  “She doesn’t know that,” Diesel said.

  “When she finds out she’s been tricked again, she’s going to burn my house down.”

  “Honey, she was going to burn your house down anyway.”

  I felt my face screw up into a grimace.

  “Don’t look so worried,” Diesel said. “I won’t let her burn your house down. Where would I sleep? Where would I eat?”

  “Your own apartment?”

  Diesel turned off Derby Street into the hotel parking lot. This was the middle of October, and it was crazy time in Salem. The streets were packed with gawkers, zombies, witches, and ghouls arriving early for Halloween. They came by chartered bus, hired limo, junker, and SUV. They mingled with the locals, some of whom already were a little nutty on their own, in the bars and shops, and they marched in the streets.

  About twenty zombies were gathered in front of the hotel, most likely waiting for a tour bus. Anarchy was standing apart, closer to the waterfront, and she looked more like one of the zombies than like Dierdre Early. She was dressed in something Catwoman might wear, except without the mask with the ears. Her short black hair was slicked back. Her lips were bloodred. Her eyes were black-rimmed with heavy liner, and some of it had smeared. Hard to tell if the smears were by accident or design.

  “Do you have a rock for her?” I asked him.

  “It’s here on the console.”

  I looked at the rock. It was very similar to the real thing. Smooth, small, brown.

  “This is the wrong rock,” I said to him. “Her last rock looked like this, and she smashed it with a hammer.” I searched in my bag for the crystal I’d picked up in the grotto. “She can’t tell if the rock is empowered, and she doesn’t really know what it’s supposed to look like.” I found the crystal and held it out to him. “I put this in my purse just in case we needed it. Give her something pretty that looks like it would have some value.”

  “Smart,” Diesel said. “I like it.”

  We parked and walked over to Anarchy, and the closer we got, the creepier she looked. There was a quality to her face that whispered hysteria. Her pupils were shrunken to pinpoints. Her mouth was hard and compressed. Her manicure was perfect.

  “I told you she got a manicure,” I whispered to Diesel.

  We stopped a few feet from her. “Do you have the tablet?” Diesel asked.

  She reached into her black leather bag and took the cracked half of the tablet out.

  “Well?” Diesel asked me.

  I put my fingertip to the engraved piece of marble. “Affirmative.”

  “Do you have the stone?” Anarchy asked.

  Diesel held the crystal in the palm of his hand for her to see.

  “How do I know this is real?” Anarchy asked.

  “Doesn’t it look real?” I asked her. “It’s beautiful. It has the power of the crystal. Touch it. You’ll be able to feel the heat.”

  She touched the stone. “I can feel it! It’s warm.”

  It was warm because it had been in Diesel’s hot hand, but no need to go into details. Anarchy gave Diesel the tablet, and he gave her the stone.

  “So you’re not going to burn my house down, right?” I asked her.

  “I couldn’t be bothered,” Anarchy said. “Your house is inconsequential.”

  “Absolutely,” I said. “It’s not worth your time. Just checking.”

  We returned to the Aston Martin and watched the zombies step single file into a trolley.

  “They’re good zombies,” Diesel said. “Orderly.”

  Hatchet was gone when Diesel dropped me off at the bakery. Clara was taking refrigerator and storage cabinet inventory. Glo was tidying up the glass cases in the front shop. And I had my station to clean. I tied an apron around myself and got to work, enjoying the tedium and satisfaction of the job. Saving the world gets old pretty quick. I’d rather scrub a cake pan any day of the week. Although it was sort of fun to see Anarchy get excited about the crystal. I’d almost wished it was real.

  The front door jingled, and a moment later, Glo appeared, wide-eyed and breathless.

  “He’s here! In the shop!”

  “Who?” Clara asked.

  “Wulf,” Glo said. “He wants to talk to Lizzy.”

  I dried my hands and went out front, keeping the counter between Wulf and me. I assumed he was still in a weakened condition, but I didn’t know exactly what that meant, because he didn’t look weak. He was in his usual perfectly tailored black, and he looked as powerful as ever.

  “Walk with me,” he said.

  I followed him outside and around the corner, where the foot traffic was nonexistent.

  “I’m in your debt,” Wulf said. “I’m giving the stone back to you as partial payment.”

  I took the stone and my purse from him and felt the power radiate up my arm. “I’m happy to get the stone back, but you don’t owe me anything.”

  “I owe you my life. Unfortunately, your selfless act seems to have changed the stone. Whether it’s changed it completely and permanently remains to be seen. For now, it appears to have lost much of its intriguing evil properties of lustful wanting and gained the undesirable ability to make some people believe in true love.”

  “That’s a good thing.”

  “It’s boring and useless. And its influence has turned my minion into a worthless, slobbering romantic. He’s convinced he’s in love with your counter girl.”

  “And you?” I asked. “Have you been affected by the stone?”

  “It would be difficult to tell,” Wulf said. “I’ve always been a romantic. I’ve seen Casablanca twice, and I sat through the entire ordeal of Titanic.”

  “Didn’t you enjoy Titanic?”

  “I was relieved when the ship went down.”

  Wulf had a sense of humor, sort of. Who would have thought.

  “Are you going to disappear in a flash of light and a cloud of smoke?” I asked him.

  “I hadn’t planned on it,” Wulf said. “My car is here. I was going to drive away. Are you disappointed?”

  “A little.”

  He swept his arm out, there was a flash of light and a lot of smoke, and when the smoke cleared Wulf was gone. So was his car.

  That’s one heck of a parlor trick, I thought.

  Glo and Clara were waiting for me when I went back into the bakery.

  “What was that about?” Clara asked.

  I told them a
bout the stone and how it had changed and was no longer of any use to Wulf.

  “So instead of the Lust Stone, it’s the True Love Stone,” Glo said. “That’s so cool. We should take it out tonight for a test-drive. I might be able to find the one.”

  “I thought the bellringer was the one,” Clara said.

  “Me, too. He had real potential, but it turned out he was married. And he wasn’t even a bellringer. He was a janitor.”

  “How does the stone work?” Clara wanted to know. “Is it like a Ouija board, telling you yes, or no, or forget about it? Does it sniff out your soul mate? Does it make you fall in love?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “It didn’t come with instructions.”

  “We should definitely take it out,” Glo said.

  “I agree,” Clara said. “It’s been sitting around for centuries, probably. It needs a night out.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Diesel texted me saying he’d be home for dinner but not much before. I thought this was a nice change from having him pick me up at work and drag me off on a hunt for some enchanted relic. When I got to Marblehead, I stopped to get groceries and a bottle of wine. I let myself into my house, said hello to Cat and Carl, and took a moment to enjoy the quiet. I set the SALIGIA Stone on the kitchen counter and put the food away. By the time Diesel walked in, I had the table set and a steak ready to go on the grill.

  “Where were you?” I asked him.

  “I took the tablet to the office.”

  “You found out where the office is located?”

  “Yeah. Turns out it’s in Quincy. At least that’s where it was today.” He paused and looked at the SALIGIA Stone. “Is that what I think it is?”

  “Wulf gave it back to me. He said I changed the stone when I helped him, and now it’s an icky True Love Stone.”

  “He said ‘icky True Love Stone’?”

  “Not in those words, but I knew what he meant. And he said he owed me, and this was partial payment for his debt.”

  “I wish I’d known. I could have taken the stone with me to Quincy.”

  “You can’t take it yet. I promised Glo and Clara we could take the stone out tonight to see if we could find true love.”

  “Let me get this straight. You have a priceless, powerful relic that has been carefully guarded for centuries, and you’re going to take it to a bar to see if it gets you hooked up?”