3 A Basis for Murder Page 10

  I was trembling and terrified. I braced myself as I took the first step, fearing that Gerald would push me down the stairs.

  The door slammed hard behind me as I reached the third step. I breathed a sigh of relief. Gerald hadn't shot me or pushed me down the stairs, so clearly intended to keep me alive at least for the time being. I stopped and hoped like hell that something sinister wasn't waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs.

  I crept down, holding my breath. I could hear something moving down there, larger than a rat.

  There was a small, rectangular window ahead of me to the left, high up and barred. Of all things it had flimsy lace curtains over it. It was throwing some light into the room, but I had to squint to see my surroundings.

  I reached the bottom of the stairs, and turned hard to the right. To my left was nothing but a cold, stone wall. I tentatively rounded the corner, and then stood stock still when I saw Douglas ahead of me.

  "Douglas!"

  "Misty!"

  We stared at each other. Douglas was sitting with his back to a pole, his hands behind him, and thick, rough rope tied around his feet.

  * * *

  The dog may be wonderful prose, but only the cat is poetry.

  (French proverb)

  Chapter Eighteen.

  For the second time in the space of a few minutes, I thought, Here we go again.

  "Misty, quick, untie me."

  I laughed harshly. "Been there, done that, Douglas."

  "What do you mean?"

  I snorted rudely. "How could you forget? Doesn't this scenario seem familiar to you? Back in England, when you and Cassandra tried to kill me? How stupid do I look? It worked last time, but it won't work this time!"

  Again Douglas asked, "What do you mean?"

  I was getting angry, and for the moment, anger overcame my fear. "Don't pretend you don't remember! Cassandra had you tied up and said she'd kill you if I didn't tell her where that document she wanted was. I told her, and then she untied you and the two of you both laughed at me, and then you were both going to kill me." I then sneezed violently; I don't think Gerald kept this place dusted.

  "Misty, I did not try to kill you. We've been through this before. I'm a double agent -"

  I cut him off. "Double agent indeed! Gerald will come down the steps and say that he'll kill you if I don't tell him something or other."

  And right on cue, a light came on in the room. The switch must have been outside the basement. I looked around for a weapon, but there was nothing. This was no ordinary basement used for storage; it was some sort of ritual room. Strange symbols were painted on every wall, and there was a large, stone altar which looked like it was used for blood sacrifice. I was too scared to look too closely as it seemed to be covered in old blood stains. Behind that, and against the wall, was another altar covered with candles and ritual items, including what very much looked like a ritual dagger made of stone.

  Gerald came down the stairs waving the gun in front of him. "Okay, I've hidden both your cars in the barn just to be on the safe side. Go over there, near your boyfriend."

  "He's not my boyfriend," I spat.

  "Whatever. Now, I need you to me tell me why you two are snooping around asking questions. Who sent you?"

  I spoke first. "I'm a journalist; call the magazine and ask them. I told you the name, Horrors and Haunts. I'm here to do a story on ghosts in Hillgrove. Call them and ask them."

  Gerald shook his head. "Tell me the truth or he gets it." He pointed the gun at Douglas.

  I laughed, which came out as a false, high-pitched laugh due to my fear. "Shoot him then; I don't care. I don't like him. I don't care what you do with him."

  "Misty!" Douglas's tone was urgent.

  I turned to him. "How stupid do you think I am, Douglas? Once bitten, twice shy! I know the two of you are in it together. You even spoke me to me on the phone and told me to come."

  "He was pointing a gun at me," Douglas said.

  I shook my head.

  Gerald walked over to Douglas and held the gun against his head. "Tell me what you're really doing, Misty, or I'll shoot him. I'm not fooling around."

  "I really don't care. Shoot him then; see if I care."

  "I'm not bluffing."

  I shrugged. "Do what you have to do. It won't work this time."

  I wondered why small beads of sweat were forming on Douglas's forehead. Either he was a very good actor, or he was wondering how far Gerald would carry this charade.

  "I won't shoot him; I'll sacrifice you both to the malingee." Gerald broke off and nodded at me. "I'm sure he'll appreciate two."

  Gerald walked toward me and I backed behind the big stone altar. I tried to buy time. "Have you been sacrificing to the malingee?" I asked.

  "Not in worship if that's what you mean. My family bound this malingee generations ago. We feed it with blood sacrifice."

  I kept trying to stall. "So your family has lived in this town for what, a hundred years or so?"

  Gerald nodded, but kept advancing at me slowly. I in turn kept backing away from him around the stone altar. "The malingee will kill anyone who gets in our way. My family's been involved in insider trading and stock manipulation since 1898. If anyone gets too close to what we're doing, we call on the malingee to kill them."

  "See, I told you I wasn't involved," Douglas said.

  I shot him a withering look.

  "Anyway, I have to summon the malingee now." Gerald looked at my puzzled face. "Did you think I actually make the sacrifices myself? Do you think I'm insane? I just get people here for the malingee; he kills them. That British tourist was asking too many questions, so I got the malingee to kill him, and then I threw his body over the cliff."

  I was at once somewhat relieved that Gerald himself had not done the killing. My situation was still grim, but had improved slightly and for that I was grateful. I had a better chance with the creature than with Gerald's gun.

  Gerald moved to the altar against the wall, still pointing the gun at me. He started a strange chanting which soon had the whole room vibrating, albeit imperceptibly. I looked at the ceiling and wondered again at the strange symbols there, and on the floor as well as the walls. I figured that these were wards to keep the creature contained within this room, once it was summoned.

  I could now feel the presence of the malingee looming. There was a noise like stone grating against stone, the terrifying sound of its stone knees advancing.

  "Excuse me, won't you; I don't want to be here when it comes."

  Gerald backed up the stairs, holding the gun in front of him. The door slammed. I heard the lock click, and then the light went out.

  I could still see, but the room was dim.

  "Misty, untie me, fast."

  "There's no time, Douglas."

  "Misty..."

  "Quiet, Douglas," I snapped. "I have to concentrate, but you will have to be quiet. Do you understand?"

  Douglas nodded.

  I sat on the floor next to the stone altar with my back against the cold, stone wall. I could feel the ground rumbling as the thing approached, but I could not let that rush me. I took a deep breath, and calmed my breathing.

  Keep calm, keep calm, I kept saying to myself as a mantra.

  Suddenly, in front of me, the malingee appeared. I shot a glance at Douglas, but it appeared that he couldn't see it.

  The malingee was at once in front of me, and clutched at my throat. As its fingers reached my neck, I turned my head to avoid its foul breath. What to do now? I not only had to make sure that it didn't harm me; I had to make sure that I broke Gerald's hold on it. But how?

  What did I know about it? Douglas wanted the creature's name so the Black Lodge could control it. Therefore Gerald was controlling it by its name. "What is your name?" I asked it. "Tell me, and I’ll release you."

  For a moment, nothing happened, and the malingee loomed over me. I fought back rising panic. I held my breath, until it whispered, "Djarraba."

&nb
sp; I wasted no time. "Djarraba, I command you to break free of the bonds that Gerald Wakefield's family has put on you and I command you never to be bound again by anyone." I hoped like crazy that would work. I was careful to whisper his name so Douglas could not hear.

  The malingee reeled back, and then lurched from side to side, trying to gain its balance. Before my eyes, it started changing shape. The grotesque, distorted face changed and became an ageless face of intense and ancient power. It changed from an ugly, misshapen form into a stone-like form pulsating with energy.

  The malingee walked over to me, its stone knees making an ominous sound. It said, "Thank you, Misty Sales," and then vanished.

  I felt nauseous for a moment but then it passed. I shook my head in an attempt to clear it.

  "Misty, what happened?" Douglas's tone was urgent.

  I walked over to him and looked at him. Should I untie him? What if he was working with Gerald?

  "What happened?" he asked again.

  I shrugged. "I can't explain it," I said, meeting his gaze, "but the creature won't be back."

  "Untie me?" His voice came out pleadingly.

  I thought hard. If Gerald and his gun came back, I had no hope of fending him off by myself. But if Douglas was working for him... It was a choice of two evils.

  I sighed, and starting tugging at the knots in the ropes around his wrists. "Douglas, I swear, you had better not be on his side."

  Douglas at once mumbled protests, but I wasn't listening. I undid his ropes, quite a feat considering my fingers were numb from fear. When his wrist ropes were released, he untied the ropes from his feet at the same time that the light going on alerted us to the fact that Gerald was about to come back down the stairs.

  "What will we do?" My voice was the faintest of whispers.

  "Hide; he might think that the creature has taken you. I'll sit back down and loop the ropes around my feet. If he gets close to me - well, don't worry, I'll deal with him."

  I ran and hid under the stairs, still not sure that Douglas was to be trusted.

  Sure enough, I heard the click in the door, signaling Gerald's appearance. I crouched in the darkness under the stairs, softly brushing cobwebs out of my way.

  I couldn't see Gerald until he walked half way across the room to Douglas. He was still waving his gun around. "Where is she?" For the first time, a hint of doubt had crept into his voice.

  "Vanished," Douglas groaned. I almost smiled; he was doing a superb acting job. He was slumping, and his voice came out as if terrified, as if he'd seen something unspeakably evil.

  Gerald lowered the gun. "You mean vanished from the room? Speak up man; I can't hear you."

  He moved closer to Douglas and bent over him. "Speak I say; do you mean she disappeared from the room?"

  Douglas acted so fast that even I jumped. I heard a gun shot, but the two men were still fighting so I assumed neither had been shot. It was over quite fast: Douglas was standing over Gerald, holding Gerald's gun. Gerald was out cold, sprawled all over the floor.

  I crept from my hiding place just as three men hurried down the stairs. To my enormous relief, they were Jamie, Bill, and Ben.

  Jamie ran over to me, his face white and filled with concern. "Misty, are you all right?"

  "Yes, I'm fine; that man on the ground tried to kill me."

  Bill and Ben pulled Gerald to his feet; he was still out cold. I had thought him a slender, wiry man, but the two of them had trouble carrying him up the stairs.

  It was then I looked down, and noticed that Jamie had a gun. I don't know why it surprised me, perhaps as I'd never seen him with a gun before. It was a big gun. "Jamie, your gun is bigger than Douglas's," I said.

  Jamie and Douglas looked at each other, and then Jamie hit Douglas. He planted one firmly right on his jaw. Douglas flew backwards, and lay sprawled on the floor right where Gerald had landed.

  "She's never seen my gun," Douglas muttered weakly. "Honest," he added pathetically.

  Jamie made an explosive sound of exasperation. "That is for putting Misty in danger, you despicable coward," he spat. "If you ever put Misty in danger again, well, you won't get off so easily. And that's no idle threat, I promise you."

  An angry Jamie took me by the arm, and helped me up the stairs and out of the house to his car. Bill and Ben had already left, presumably with Gerald. "What will happen to Douglas?"

  "Who cares?" Jamie said.

  I nodded in agreement.

  For some reason, I suddenly thought of Brandon. "Oh Jamie, what about Brandon? Has he come home?"

  "Yes. I had a long talk with him."

  I was at once dismayed. "Oh no; is he okay?"

  Jamie chuckled. "Let's just say I promised to set him up with a colleague of mine. Turns out Brandon dated my colleague once before but then thought he'd stood him up. I was able to share that he'd left early for an assignment, and smoothed it all out. Brandon seems quite happy now. Turns out he's a bit fickle. Plus I assured him that I if was gay, he'd be the type of guy I'd go for."

  I gave Jamie a long, hard look, and then I chuckled. I was content. The Black Lodge had been thwarted; they did not know the malingee's name and wouldn't be able to find out, not after what I did. I still had to find out about The Orpheans, but at least now I knew their name. Things were looking up.

  At that very moment, as if on cue to steal my happiness, the Sherwood Forest text tone sounded.

  Caller: Blocked Sender.

  "All is not what it seems. Beware. Trust no one."

  * * * The End * * *

  This was Book 3 in the Misty Sales Mystery series.

  Watch for Book 4, A Cause for Murder.

  Watch for Morgana Best's new Cozy Mystery Series:

  Sybil Potts Cozy Mystery Series.

  Book 1.

  Sybil Potts has moved to the pleasant town of Little Tatterford, eager to find a life of peace and quiet after her stressful divorce. She has a secret to keep and prefers to avoid people, but running her mobile pet grooming service makes this difficult.

  How will Sybil's secret put her at odds with Blake Wessley, an exasperated police officer who is trying to solve at least one murder?

  Review request.

  If you enjoyed this book, I'd be very grateful if you would leave a positive review. Your support really does make a difference.