The Diva Haunts the House (16 page)

“He seems nice.” Okay, there was his unpleasant behavior of throwing us out during Natasha’s party, but he was trying to do his job, and he had gone overboard in apologizing.

Natasha glanced around before whispering, “I saw him having it out with Patrick during the party.”

“What do you mean?”

“They were having some sort of argument in the kitchen. I don’t think they saw me, because Leon denied knowing Patrick last night. Very odd.”

Leon had appeared afraid to speak with the police this morning, as well. “Did you hear what he and Patrick were discussing?”

“They made mention of money, but I couldn’t hear exactly what the problem was. I’m just a bit leery of Leon now.”

“I thought you suspected Maggie.”

“I suspect both of them!”

“Have the police told you anything about the killer?”

Natasha groaned. “They interviewed Mars, Leon, and me endlessly. They even questioned my mother and June. The thing is that we don’t know if the killer was one of our guests. Who would have thought so many grown men would want to play dress up as Dracula? Your Wolf made Leon and me go through the guest list and tell him who came dressed as vampires. Can you imagine? And you know how crabby Wolf and Mars are around each other, always trying to be the more clever one.” She touched fingers to her forehead. “People have been calling all day long to find out if Patrick was really killed by a vampire. I’m telling you, Sophie, there’s vampire mania in this town right now.”

And we were adding fuel to the fire by telling the story of Viktor Luca. What lousy timing. As soon as that thought crossed my mind, I felt ashamed. Patrick had been murdered. He might have been a snob and unpleasant, but he hadn’t deserved to die. Natasha and I were alive and well. We could go home and spend time with our loved ones, but everything had come to an abrupt and cruel end for Patrick—and not at the hands of a vampire. He’d been killed by a mortal, someone who walked and shopped and lived among us. Someone who wanted to get rid of me.

At eight o’clock, we shut down for the night. Bernie, Humphrey, Nina, and I were beat. June and Wanda impressed me the most. They were ready to call it quits for the night, but eager to return the next day.

“That was delightful,” said June. “I love being around all these adorable children. It makes me feel young again.”

I hoped I would have as much energy at her age. I did notice, though, that while the rest of us walked home, June and Wanda shared a cab.

Humphrey and Bernie declined my invitation to dinner. I couldn’t blame them. If I didn’t have the kids to feed, I wouldn’t have bothered cooking anything and would have fallen into bed.

The kids astounded me by being full of spunk. When we got home, we all changed into comfortable clothes, and Jesse and Blake lit a fire in the kitchen fireplace. The kids and Nina gathered around the kitchen table, comparing stories about the people who’d toured the house. Meanwhile, I was thrilled that Chicken Scaryaki only took fifteen minutes to cook and the Bat Cave Risotto didn’t take much longer. I made a quick salad of soft baby spinach leaves, crisp apple slices, chewy dried cranberries, crunchy pecans, and thinly sliced red onion. In spite of my determination to act normal, I found I constantly looked out the kitchen window to be sure my assailant hadn’t returned. I whisked together tart apple cider vinegar, olive oil, honey, and mustard as a dressing and dinner was ready.

Nina poured sparkling apple cider for the kids and white wine for herself. I stuck with the apple cider. After the day I’d had, one glass of wine and I would be asleep at the table with my face in my plate.

As much as I loved to entertain, I was dead on my feet, and didn’t mind one bit when the door knocker sounded and Blake’s father, Dash, whisked the boys away. Daisy and I walked Nina home.

Nina stopped in the middle of the street. As though she had read my mind she asked, “Do you think he could be stalking us right now?”

We stared up and down the quiet block.

“I’m sleeping over. Don’t bother arguing with me about it. My husband is away, and I’m not even fostering a dog at the moment.”

At her house, she stuffed nightclothes, face creams, a toothbrush, and the CD player on which she listened to books and which she couldn’t sleep without into a bag made of recycled fibers by impoverished women in Africa.

Nina locked her front door and nearly propelled me across the street to my house. “I don’t see anyone, do you?”

“Not a soul.”

We checked on the girls in the family room and told them Nina would be staying over. They were underwhelmed. Vegas bowed her head texting, and Jen painted her toenails. Dramatic music from an old Christopher Lee vampire movie played in the background.

They barely acknowledged us when we said good night. Fine by me. I couldn’t keep my eyes open one minute longer. Thank goodness the beds upstairs were made and ready for company. Nina opted to sleep in June’s favorite room with a huge canopy bed, across the hall from my bedroom. I bid her good night, slid under the comforter, felt Mochie and Daisy settle on the bed with me, and was asleep in seconds.

I woke to the sound of Daisy howling. Rolling over, I squinted at the clock. Four in the morning. What was she thinking? Groggy, I stumbled down the stairs. “Daisy!” I hissed. “Shh.” She wagged her tail when she saw me but didn’t budge from her position by the door in the sunroom. I turned on a light.

“Come on, Daisy. It’s the middle of the night.”

Mochie sat nearby, feigning disinterest by washing his face.

Daisy released another woeful howl. “Shh. You’ll wake Nina and the girls.” Who was I kidding? Daisy was only feet away from the family room. Jen and Vegas were probably awake by now.

“Too late. What’s going on?” Nina rubbed her eyes.

“I have no idea.”

Nina’s eyes widened and suddenly she didn’t look sleepy. “The killer!” She turned off the light.

We peered through the windows into the dark backyard. No sign of a murderer or evidence of devilish rabbits or other nocturnal creatures.

“I don’t see anything. Come to bed, Daisy. I’m pooped.”

She refused to move. “Sit there all night if you like, but quit howling.” She flapped her feathery tail against the floor.

I peeked into the family room. Neither of the girls stirred. Amazing. Kids could sleep through anything. Mochie flashed by me, and before I could stop him, he flew onto the bed, landing squarely on one of the girls—and sank into the depths of the comforter. I switched on a lamp and pulled back the covers, only to find carefully placed pillows and no girls.

“Oh no!” Nina’s deep grumble reflected what I felt.

“Let’s not leap to conclusions. I’ll check the kitchen.”

When they weren’t there, Nina and I sped through the house, looking in bedrooms, the den, the living room. In the end, we could come to only one conclusion. They had sneaked out, and Daisy had tried to tell us.

FOURTEEN

“Maybe they’re at Mars’s house?” I couldn’t fathom why Vegas might want to go home in the middle of the night, but stranger things had happened.

I attached Daisy’s leash, grabbed a coat, and stuffed my cell phone in the pocket.

“Hold it there, Lone Ranger. You’re not going by yourself.” Nina reached for her coat.

“What if the kids come back?”

Her lips mashed into an annoyed straight line. “Hurry! I’ll give you three minutes to cross the street. If I don’t hear from you, I’m calling the Marines.”

Daisy and I ventured into the cold night. On high alert for any sign of movement, I ran across the street, climbed the stairs to the front door, and called Nina to let her know we were safe.

I rang the doorbell and heard the familiar two-note foghorn of the Addams Family doorbell. No doubt still from the party.

Mars answered the door, his hair mussed and one eye closed. He wore a navy blue bathrobe. “Soph?” He reached out to rub Daisy’s head.

“Jen and Vegas are gone. I thought they might have come here.”

Mars’s closed eye opened, and the drowsiness left his face. “They’re missing?”

“They arranged their pillows so it would look like they were asleep under the covers.”

“That’s not like Jen.” He rubbed his forehead in a gesture I knew very well. “They haven’t turned up here. C’mon, we need to talk.”

Talk?
That didn’t sound good. I followed him into Natasha’s kitchen expecting a disaster area. For a room in which an explosion had taken place recently, it sparkled. The stainless appliances shone as if just cleaned. The countertops and sleek European cabinets gleamed silver, too. She’d painted the walls a pale gray-blue; even the tile floor was a matte bluish gray. If I hadn’t been so worried about the girls, I might have been tempted to run through the kitchen leaving fingerprints on all that shiny steel. The hole in the wall had already been framed and drywalled. The only reminder of the explosion was a plastic tarp billowing in the gap where a new window would fit.

“This is amazing.” I sniffed the air. “It barely smells of smoke. How did you do that so fast?”

“Minimal damage. It looked much worse than it was. Bad enough that it blew out the window, but on the whole we were very lucky. That, and the restoration crew worked fast to get away from Natasha.”

I made a mental note to put Natasha in charge the next time I needed something done fast. I focused on Mars. He still looked like the good old boy he was. His face retained a fresh, youthful quality, even though the years had aged it a bit. He picked up the phone. “Have you tried calling Jen?”

I buried my face in my hands. How stupid of me. I’d been so upset and sleepy that I hadn’t thought about the fact that they had cell phones. Taking the phone from Mars, I dialed Jen’s number. “It’s defaulting to voice mail. Try Vegas.”

Mars hung up the telephone. “We can’t call Vegas.” He leaned against a counter, careful not to touch it with his hands. “We took her phone away to punish her.”

“Punish? What for?”

He exhaled with his eyes closed. They snapped open when he said, “For sneaking out in the middle of the night.”

“She’s done this before? You might have told me! I wouldn’t have left them alone for even a second.”

“Natasha didn’t want to share.”

“What?! She’d rather Vegas drag Jen off somewhere with her?”

“I’m sorry, Soph. I’m so, so sorry. I never should have listened to Nat. You know how she is about appearances. She didn’t want anyone to know we were having trouble controlling Vegas.”

I stood beside him, facing the counter, and placed my hands on it, pressing hard to control my anger.

“Uh, Soph. No fingerprints, please. Natasha has a fit when she sees fingerprints.”

He had to be kidding. It was childish, but I promptly mashed my palms against the counter in several places. “I really don’t understand you, Mars. Why on earth do you stay with her?”

I thought he was about to answer, when a voice behind me demanded, “What’s going on in here?”

Natasha.
I didn’t bother looking at her. “Thanks to your decision not to tell me that Vegas has a tendency to run away in the middle of the night”—I whirled around—“now Jen and Vegas are missing.”

Natasha lifted a manicured hand to her forehead. “Vegas isn’t that kind of girl.”

“Cut the act. Mars already confessed.”

She lowered her hand and must have forgotten about being dramatic when she clomped over to us. “I thought we were going to keep that private.”

“It’s just Sophie. Besides, Vegas is the one who blew it by taking off again. Where do you think she went?”

“What is Daisy doing in my kitchen?”

When neither Mars nor I removed Daisy, Natasha sagged. “Why do these things have to happen to me? I planned such a perfect party, but one of the guests managed to get himself murdered by a vampire of all things, which means no one will
ever
come to one of my parties again; someone blew up part of my kitchen; now this with Vegas; and a
dog
in my kitchen. What else can possibly go wrong?”

“Not that I mean to detract from your tale of woe, but where did Vegas go last time?” I asked. “Maybe she went there again.”

A look passed between Mars and Natasha. She pressed her fingers over her mouth. “This is bad. It was bad enough last time, but now it’s even worse.”