What's Death Got to Do with It?
October 14
“Holy… what the beep?” Trixie’s eyes were wide as she took in the view through the van’s windshield. “Oh. My. God.”
“Crap,” Dan muttered as he shifted to park and cut the engine. “Well, now. I guess we shoulda seen this coming. Ladies and gentleman? Welcome to Office Hours at Lisgard House.”
“What?” Honey asked, looking back and forth between her friends. “What is it? What’s out there?”
Mart offered her a tight smile as he reached for his door. “Ghosts,” he replied. “Lots and lots of ghosts.”
******
“Can you help me, please?”
“I can’t find my laptop. I think somebody stole it. Or maybe I left it at the gym.”
“So there I was, about to make the perfect soufflé and this happened.”
“…and my boss had the nerve to say it was all his idea...”
“A hotdog! A freakin’ hotdog!”
“Help? I just need your help.”
The noise was positively deafening as they made their way through the crowd to the front of the dilapidated estate home. “This is insane!” Mart shouted to his sister and friends. “We have to do something!”
“I know!” Dan hollered back. “I can’t even hear myself think!”
Honey winced at their raised voices and shook her head helplessly.
“Dan! Give me the amulet!” Trixie said urgently.
“What?”
“The amulet!”
“What? I can’t hear you!”
“The amulet!”
He pulled it from his back pocket. Trixie took it and quickly climbed the steps to the porch. She held it aloft for a moment, waiting until she saw most eyes turned her direction. “Everybody! Shut! Up!” As a welcome quiet descended upon them, she lowered her arm and blew out a breath. “Thank you. That’s more like it.”
Dan and Mart joined her, while Honey slipped past them and took up a post by the door. “Nice move, Sis,” Mart said with approval.
“Okay,” Dan called out. “Listen up! Yes. We can… probably help you, but there needs to be some ground rules. Number one. We expect orderly behavior. You will form lines and stay in those lines and wait your turn. Anyone caught trying to cut will be sent all the way to the back. Number two. No going all poltergeist-y on us. If any objects start flying in the air or things spontaneously burst into flames or any other nonsense like that? We will use our powers to banish you to… uh… The Wicked Realm of Eternal Screams. You probably heard the rumors, so you know what we’re capable of. Don’t push us!”
A low, fearful murmur passed over the crowd and more than one spirit vanished instantly.
“Number three. No, we do not actually know where you’ll be going after this. We don’t even know how many possible destinations there are. Don’t even bother asking.” He glanced at Mart and Trixie. “Anything else?”
Trixie took a step forward. “Number four! You’re dead. If you didn’t know that already? Now’s the time to face the facts. You are dead. Also? We are alive. We are not dead. So, any of you thinking about any kind of pick-up lines or come-ons? Don’t. It’s not happening. All right, we’ll take three lines. Spread out some and don’t crowd. And if it’s not your turn, keep it down so we can hear. Oh, and one last thing. No whining! Just state your business calmly and if we can assist you, we will. If we can’t? Like if, say… you’re still hoping for a ticket to see Cats on Broadway? You need to accept whatever we tell you and move on. Anyone whining too much can expect banishment to spare the rest of us from all the temper tantrum suckitude that is an incessant whiner. Got it? Good.”
******
Mart held up his hands and shrugged. “No, sorry. I don’t actually know where you could return your overdue video tapes. Blockbuster’s gone, man. But that’s okay. That means your account doesn’t exist anymore, right? You’re off the hook.”
******
“Oh… yeah,” Trixie said slowly. “Okay. I see. And I get it. If I’d saved up for years and years for a vacation and dropped dead two weeks before leaving, I’d be pretty ticked off, too. But who says you can’t still go? I mean, think of it… all the fun of Disney, and no waiting in line. No worries about the weather. And only think how much fun you could have in the Haunted Mansion, huh?”
******
Dan rubbed the back of his neck and offered the old woman a smile he knew looked as forced as it felt. “Ma’am, you’ve been dead for what… at least a hundred years? It’s a safe bet your lost dog is no longer with us, either. Sorry, but hey, who knows? Maybe he’s been waiting for you all this time on the other side. You could be on your way to a happy reunion right now.”
******
“So, what you’re saying is, no one was buying your poetry books when you were alive, but now that you’re dead, you’ve got a bit of a following. Only, the problem is everybody’s got everything all wrong?” Mart’s tone indicated his skepticism.
“Precisely! Precisely! They’re even teaching my works at Haversham, and the damn fool idiot professor is telling those kids that The Violent Flamingo is about ‘a delicate beauty consumed by anger,’ when it’s obviously about raging against the New World Order!”
“Obviously.”
“And don’t get me started on how she absolutely destroyed The Unicycling Poacher Rides Again!”
“Have no fear on that account. I definitely won’t get you started. Sir, I think you need to accept that poetry’s in the eye of the… uh, reader. People will interpret it their own way, from their own perspective and experiences. Let it go. Consider your works released into the wild to flourish as they may.”
******
“Right,” Dan muttered. “Hang on a sec, huh?” Holding on to a porch rail for balance, he climbed up on the stool he was using as a chair. “Attention!” he shouted. “Attention, everybody! Just a little friendly reminder, folks! The War of Independence is over! Anyone else here that was part of this militia group that apparently got lost on the way to battle? Yeah? You’re free to go now. The British went home. A long time ago.”
******
Trixie tilted her head, considering both options for a long moment. “Um… the red. Go with the red. That yellow dress will make you look washed out. Yellow rarely looks good on anyone.”
******
“Please. I need your help!”
“Yeah. You and everyone else here,” Mart said tiredly. “Back of the line, dude.”
“No! I don’t have time!”
“Uh, yeah. You do. You’re dead. You got all the time in the-“
“If you don’t help me now, someone else could die! Please! Just listen to me!”
******
“Okay,” Trixie said. “So your sister married your best friend’s brother and your brother married your best friend and your father married their mother and you want to know if it’s okay if you marry their dad? Right. So. One? Probably it’s legal, though it sounds like maybe your two families need to get out more. Really. Believe it or not, there are other people in the world you can get romantically involved with. Two. That’s gotta be one heck of an age gap and you might want to think about that. It may not bother you now, but wait until he’s eighty and you’re what? Fifty? Also? If you marry the dad, you’ll be married to the man who used to be married to your stepmom, and that would make you the stepmother-in-law to your own siblings. That would probably lead to all sorts of awkwardness at holiday gatherings. Three. It’ll likely piss off everyone involved if you marry Dad because you could be cutting them out of their possible inheritances. And four. And this is the really important part, so pay attention… you’re dead. You aren’t marrying anyone and this entire conversation has been an enormous waste of time… Next?”
******
“What do you mean someone else could die?” Mart demanded, frowning severely.
“It’s poison. Arsenic. In the wine.”
Mart stared at the man. “You’re gonna need to give me some more details here. What wine? And how do you know it’s got poison in it?”
“I know because I put it there. We have to go! The bottle was mixed in with several others and may be served at a dinner party. Tonight!”
******
“Huh? Huh? Get it? So the duck said to the nun, ‘Not when you’re in Topeka!’”
Trixie nodded and flashed a wide smile. “Ha! Yeah. Okay. You’re right. That really may be the funniest joke I’ve ever heard.”
“Thank you! That’s what I said! My brother! No sense of humor!”
The elderly man disappeared and Trixie waved to the woman next in line. She stepped forward, a puzzled look on her face. “The duck said ‘Not when you’re in Topeka.’? I don’t get it.”
Trixie threw both hands up. “Me neither! I think that guy might’ve been suffering from dementia or something. I’m pretty sure he got at least three different jokes mixed up into the one he just told me.”
******
“Oh, for crying out loud!” Dan rose from his seat again. “People! Another friendly reminder! If you want us to write a letter to your loved ones, you need to make sure you have the content and the address ready to go when you get to the front of the line!”
******
“Do you think it was okay to leave Dan and Trixie with all the other spirits?” Honey asked worriedly as Mart eased the van up to slightly above the speed limit.
“They should be fine,” he replied tersely. “If the ghosts start acting up, Dan can threaten them again.”
“With banishment to the… whatever realm of endless screams?”
Despite everything, Mart felt a smile pushing up the corners of his mouth. “Wicked realm. And it was eternal screams. I don’t know where he came up with that one."
“You mean it’s not real?”
Mart glanced in the rearview mirror. “No, Frank. It’s not real. At least, not that I know of.”
“Huh. Well, your friend sure sounded convincing, anyway. I’ll give him that. Up here, make a left at the next intersection.”
It took almost fifteen minutes, with a lot of driving along winding back roads, before they reached their destination. The large house was set back on a fair-sized property, lit up with bright lights streaming from every visible window. There were several vehicles parked along the driveway.
Honey glanced over at Mart. “How are we going to handle this? I don’t think we can just walk up to the front door and ask to speak to the host so we can explain that he’s about to poison all his guests.”
“I know. They’d probably toss us out on our ears or call the cops. I think we’re gonna have to find a way in and steal it.” He turned in his seat. “Frank? You’ll have to come with us and point out the bottle in question.”
******
“No,” Trixie said firmly. “No. Of course not. You look great. Sure it’s short, but who says buzz cuts are only for military personnel? Or men. You are rockin’ that style, ma’am. It’s awesome.”
******
Mart tugged on the hood of his jacket. Pulled up over his head, he doubted it really did all that much to disguise his identity. “This is ridiculous!” he groaned.
“Shhh,” Honey whispered as she peered through a small crack in the study door. “Do you want to get caught? Okay. It looks like the guests are all pretty much in the great room. I don’t see anyone else about. We should be able to get to the kitchen and find the wine.”
******
“Yes,” Dan agreed with a nod. “I do think the fact that we call it ‘soccer’ when everyone else says ‘football’ is confusing. But that said, I’m not sure flipping the names to mean the opposite sport would be any less confusing at this point. You know?”
******
“What are you kids doing?”
Honey gasped and whirled around. A well-dressed woman who looked to be in her mid-sixties was standing in the doorway to the formal dining room, eying them suspiciously.
“You’d better have an excellent explanation for your presence here or I’m calling the police.”
“Frank!” Mart exclaimed sharply. “Time’s up. Choose! Which one is it?”
“I don’t know! It could be any of these three!”
Without a word, Mart grabbed two of the bottles. He shoved one at Honey, then reached for the third. “Go! Go! Go!” he ordered her as Frank faded from view. “Run!” They spun around and raced out the kitchen door, ignoring the woman’s shouts for them to stop.
******
“No. Seriously. This is an old one, but it’s easy once you understand it,” Trixie explained. “When you take two apples from three apples, how many do you have?”
“One!” the young man insisted. “You have one. Three minus two is one! My teacher shouldn’t have marked it wrong!”
“Listen to me. When you take two apples from three apples, how many do you have?”
The man’s jaw fell open and he chuckled as he shook his head. “Ohhhh. I have two apples!”
“Exactly. Get it now?”
******
The tires squealed as Mart took the corner without fully applying the brakes.
“Oh, my goodness! Oh, my goodness!” Honey cried in panicked tones. “What are we going to do if she saw the van? If she reports it to the police, we’re never gonna get away with it.”
“I don’t think she saw it,” Mart replied with more conviction than he actually felt. “We parked pretty far from the house and she didn’t follow us much past the back patio. I’m sure she went inside to call the cops, but all she’s going to be able to say is two teens in hoodies and jeans made off with some of her wine.”
“Geeze Louise! This is insane! Did Frank ever even explain why he poisoned it?”
“Oh, yeah,” Mart replied with a dark laugh. “He was trying to kill his wife because she was divorcing him and taking half his money. Only she caught on to him and did away with him first by shooting him with his hunting rifle and making it look like an accident. Then apparently she cleaned out their home of everything that she associated with him, including the high-end wine cellar. She gave the wine to her divorce lawyer, and that’s who we just stole it from. Frank spent the last seventeen years trying to figure out what to do about it, and then he learned that tonight of all nights, the lawyer finally decided to serve it to a bunch of clients, so he came to us. Lucky for him we’re on the job and willing to help.”
“Lucky for him and all the party guests,” Honey pointed out. “What are we going to do with the wine now, though? And are we morally obligated to go to the police and tell them that Frank was murdered? That he didn’t die in a hunting accident?”
“We’re going to dispose of the wine in whatever the best method of disposing poisons is, once we look it up,” Mart told her. “As for Frank? What would be the point? No one would believe us since we have no proof and he died sometime around when I was born, and well, he was going to kill the woman who killed him, so we could sorta write it off as self-defense anyway, right?”
******
“Listen up!” Dan called, holding up his hands for attention. “It’s late and it’s a school night. Our office is officially closed for the evening.”
Several groans and protests greeted this announcement.
“Deal with it,” he snapped. “We’ll be around this week and you are welcome to come back. Or… we could just do that banishment spell now…”
******
They sat around the clubhouse table, each staring at the three bottles Mart had set down in the center.
“We need to find a good place to hide them for now,” Trixie said thoughtfully. “Until we can get rid of them.”
“Can we glue them shut?” Honey asked.
“I think we should ruin them first.”
Mart glanced at his sister. “What do you mean?”
“Put something in them, like dirt. Or big rusty nails. Something that if someone somehow accidentally found them, they wouldn’t want to do any sampling. And put them in a box labeled, ‘Do not drink. Contaminated with rodent feces.’ or something like that.”
“All right,” Dan agreed. “Let’s ruin some wine and then I gotta get home. I still have an economics test to study for. Dang, our lives are strange.”
“Holy… what the beep?” Trixie’s eyes were wide as she took in the view through the van’s windshield. “Oh. My. God.”
“Crap,” Dan muttered as he shifted to park and cut the engine. “Well, now. I guess we shoulda seen this coming. Ladies and gentleman? Welcome to Office Hours at Lisgard House.”
“What?” Honey asked, looking back and forth between her friends. “What is it? What’s out there?”
Mart offered her a tight smile as he reached for his door. “Ghosts,” he replied. “Lots and lots of ghosts.”
******
“Can you help me, please?”
“I can’t find my laptop. I think somebody stole it. Or maybe I left it at the gym.”
“So there I was, about to make the perfect soufflé and this happened.”
“…and my boss had the nerve to say it was all his idea...”
“A hotdog! A freakin’ hotdog!”
“Help? I just need your help.”
The noise was positively deafening as they made their way through the crowd to the front of the dilapidated estate home. “This is insane!” Mart shouted to his sister and friends. “We have to do something!”
“I know!” Dan hollered back. “I can’t even hear myself think!”
Honey winced at their raised voices and shook her head helplessly.
“Dan! Give me the amulet!” Trixie said urgently.
“What?”
“The amulet!”
“What? I can’t hear you!”
“The amulet!”
He pulled it from his back pocket. Trixie took it and quickly climbed the steps to the porch. She held it aloft for a moment, waiting until she saw most eyes turned her direction. “Everybody! Shut! Up!” As a welcome quiet descended upon them, she lowered her arm and blew out a breath. “Thank you. That’s more like it.”
Dan and Mart joined her, while Honey slipped past them and took up a post by the door. “Nice move, Sis,” Mart said with approval.
“Okay,” Dan called out. “Listen up! Yes. We can… probably help you, but there needs to be some ground rules. Number one. We expect orderly behavior. You will form lines and stay in those lines and wait your turn. Anyone caught trying to cut will be sent all the way to the back. Number two. No going all poltergeist-y on us. If any objects start flying in the air or things spontaneously burst into flames or any other nonsense like that? We will use our powers to banish you to… uh… The Wicked Realm of Eternal Screams. You probably heard the rumors, so you know what we’re capable of. Don’t push us!”
A low, fearful murmur passed over the crowd and more than one spirit vanished instantly.
“Number three. No, we do not actually know where you’ll be going after this. We don’t even know how many possible destinations there are. Don’t even bother asking.” He glanced at Mart and Trixie. “Anything else?”
Trixie took a step forward. “Number four! You’re dead. If you didn’t know that already? Now’s the time to face the facts. You are dead. Also? We are alive. We are not dead. So, any of you thinking about any kind of pick-up lines or come-ons? Don’t. It’s not happening. All right, we’ll take three lines. Spread out some and don’t crowd. And if it’s not your turn, keep it down so we can hear. Oh, and one last thing. No whining! Just state your business calmly and if we can assist you, we will. If we can’t? Like if, say… you’re still hoping for a ticket to see Cats on Broadway? You need to accept whatever we tell you and move on. Anyone whining too much can expect banishment to spare the rest of us from all the temper tantrum suckitude that is an incessant whiner. Got it? Good.”
******
Mart held up his hands and shrugged. “No, sorry. I don’t actually know where you could return your overdue video tapes. Blockbuster’s gone, man. But that’s okay. That means your account doesn’t exist anymore, right? You’re off the hook.”
******
“Oh… yeah,” Trixie said slowly. “Okay. I see. And I get it. If I’d saved up for years and years for a vacation and dropped dead two weeks before leaving, I’d be pretty ticked off, too. But who says you can’t still go? I mean, think of it… all the fun of Disney, and no waiting in line. No worries about the weather. And only think how much fun you could have in the Haunted Mansion, huh?”
******
Dan rubbed the back of his neck and offered the old woman a smile he knew looked as forced as it felt. “Ma’am, you’ve been dead for what… at least a hundred years? It’s a safe bet your lost dog is no longer with us, either. Sorry, but hey, who knows? Maybe he’s been waiting for you all this time on the other side. You could be on your way to a happy reunion right now.”
******
“So, what you’re saying is, no one was buying your poetry books when you were alive, but now that you’re dead, you’ve got a bit of a following. Only, the problem is everybody’s got everything all wrong?” Mart’s tone indicated his skepticism.
“Precisely! Precisely! They’re even teaching my works at Haversham, and the damn fool idiot professor is telling those kids that The Violent Flamingo is about ‘a delicate beauty consumed by anger,’ when it’s obviously about raging against the New World Order!”
“Obviously.”
“And don’t get me started on how she absolutely destroyed The Unicycling Poacher Rides Again!”
“Have no fear on that account. I definitely won’t get you started. Sir, I think you need to accept that poetry’s in the eye of the… uh, reader. People will interpret it their own way, from their own perspective and experiences. Let it go. Consider your works released into the wild to flourish as they may.”
******
“Right,” Dan muttered. “Hang on a sec, huh?” Holding on to a porch rail for balance, he climbed up on the stool he was using as a chair. “Attention!” he shouted. “Attention, everybody! Just a little friendly reminder, folks! The War of Independence is over! Anyone else here that was part of this militia group that apparently got lost on the way to battle? Yeah? You’re free to go now. The British went home. A long time ago.”
******
Trixie tilted her head, considering both options for a long moment. “Um… the red. Go with the red. That yellow dress will make you look washed out. Yellow rarely looks good on anyone.”
******
“Please. I need your help!”
“Yeah. You and everyone else here,” Mart said tiredly. “Back of the line, dude.”
“No! I don’t have time!”
“Uh, yeah. You do. You’re dead. You got all the time in the-“
“If you don’t help me now, someone else could die! Please! Just listen to me!”
******
“Okay,” Trixie said. “So your sister married your best friend’s brother and your brother married your best friend and your father married their mother and you want to know if it’s okay if you marry their dad? Right. So. One? Probably it’s legal, though it sounds like maybe your two families need to get out more. Really. Believe it or not, there are other people in the world you can get romantically involved with. Two. That’s gotta be one heck of an age gap and you might want to think about that. It may not bother you now, but wait until he’s eighty and you’re what? Fifty? Also? If you marry the dad, you’ll be married to the man who used to be married to your stepmom, and that would make you the stepmother-in-law to your own siblings. That would probably lead to all sorts of awkwardness at holiday gatherings. Three. It’ll likely piss off everyone involved if you marry Dad because you could be cutting them out of their possible inheritances. And four. And this is the really important part, so pay attention… you’re dead. You aren’t marrying anyone and this entire conversation has been an enormous waste of time… Next?”
******
“What do you mean someone else could die?” Mart demanded, frowning severely.
“It’s poison. Arsenic. In the wine.”
Mart stared at the man. “You’re gonna need to give me some more details here. What wine? And how do you know it’s got poison in it?”
“I know because I put it there. We have to go! The bottle was mixed in with several others and may be served at a dinner party. Tonight!”
******
“Huh? Huh? Get it? So the duck said to the nun, ‘Not when you’re in Topeka!’”
Trixie nodded and flashed a wide smile. “Ha! Yeah. Okay. You’re right. That really may be the funniest joke I’ve ever heard.”
“Thank you! That’s what I said! My brother! No sense of humor!”
The elderly man disappeared and Trixie waved to the woman next in line. She stepped forward, a puzzled look on her face. “The duck said ‘Not when you’re in Topeka.’? I don’t get it.”
Trixie threw both hands up. “Me neither! I think that guy might’ve been suffering from dementia or something. I’m pretty sure he got at least three different jokes mixed up into the one he just told me.”
******
“Oh, for crying out loud!” Dan rose from his seat again. “People! Another friendly reminder! If you want us to write a letter to your loved ones, you need to make sure you have the content and the address ready to go when you get to the front of the line!”
******
“Do you think it was okay to leave Dan and Trixie with all the other spirits?” Honey asked worriedly as Mart eased the van up to slightly above the speed limit.
“They should be fine,” he replied tersely. “If the ghosts start acting up, Dan can threaten them again.”
“With banishment to the… whatever realm of endless screams?”
Despite everything, Mart felt a smile pushing up the corners of his mouth. “Wicked realm. And it was eternal screams. I don’t know where he came up with that one."
“You mean it’s not real?”
Mart glanced in the rearview mirror. “No, Frank. It’s not real. At least, not that I know of.”
“Huh. Well, your friend sure sounded convincing, anyway. I’ll give him that. Up here, make a left at the next intersection.”
It took almost fifteen minutes, with a lot of driving along winding back roads, before they reached their destination. The large house was set back on a fair-sized property, lit up with bright lights streaming from every visible window. There were several vehicles parked along the driveway.
Honey glanced over at Mart. “How are we going to handle this? I don’t think we can just walk up to the front door and ask to speak to the host so we can explain that he’s about to poison all his guests.”
“I know. They’d probably toss us out on our ears or call the cops. I think we’re gonna have to find a way in and steal it.” He turned in his seat. “Frank? You’ll have to come with us and point out the bottle in question.”
******
“No,” Trixie said firmly. “No. Of course not. You look great. Sure it’s short, but who says buzz cuts are only for military personnel? Or men. You are rockin’ that style, ma’am. It’s awesome.”
******
Mart tugged on the hood of his jacket. Pulled up over his head, he doubted it really did all that much to disguise his identity. “This is ridiculous!” he groaned.
“Shhh,” Honey whispered as she peered through a small crack in the study door. “Do you want to get caught? Okay. It looks like the guests are all pretty much in the great room. I don’t see anyone else about. We should be able to get to the kitchen and find the wine.”
******
“Yes,” Dan agreed with a nod. “I do think the fact that we call it ‘soccer’ when everyone else says ‘football’ is confusing. But that said, I’m not sure flipping the names to mean the opposite sport would be any less confusing at this point. You know?”
******
“What are you kids doing?”
Honey gasped and whirled around. A well-dressed woman who looked to be in her mid-sixties was standing in the doorway to the formal dining room, eying them suspiciously.
“You’d better have an excellent explanation for your presence here or I’m calling the police.”
“Frank!” Mart exclaimed sharply. “Time’s up. Choose! Which one is it?”
“I don’t know! It could be any of these three!”
Without a word, Mart grabbed two of the bottles. He shoved one at Honey, then reached for the third. “Go! Go! Go!” he ordered her as Frank faded from view. “Run!” They spun around and raced out the kitchen door, ignoring the woman’s shouts for them to stop.
******
“No. Seriously. This is an old one, but it’s easy once you understand it,” Trixie explained. “When you take two apples from three apples, how many do you have?”
“One!” the young man insisted. “You have one. Three minus two is one! My teacher shouldn’t have marked it wrong!”
“Listen to me. When you take two apples from three apples, how many do you have?”
The man’s jaw fell open and he chuckled as he shook his head. “Ohhhh. I have two apples!”
“Exactly. Get it now?”
******
The tires squealed as Mart took the corner without fully applying the brakes.
“Oh, my goodness! Oh, my goodness!” Honey cried in panicked tones. “What are we going to do if she saw the van? If she reports it to the police, we’re never gonna get away with it.”
“I don’t think she saw it,” Mart replied with more conviction than he actually felt. “We parked pretty far from the house and she didn’t follow us much past the back patio. I’m sure she went inside to call the cops, but all she’s going to be able to say is two teens in hoodies and jeans made off with some of her wine.”
“Geeze Louise! This is insane! Did Frank ever even explain why he poisoned it?”
“Oh, yeah,” Mart replied with a dark laugh. “He was trying to kill his wife because she was divorcing him and taking half his money. Only she caught on to him and did away with him first by shooting him with his hunting rifle and making it look like an accident. Then apparently she cleaned out their home of everything that she associated with him, including the high-end wine cellar. She gave the wine to her divorce lawyer, and that’s who we just stole it from. Frank spent the last seventeen years trying to figure out what to do about it, and then he learned that tonight of all nights, the lawyer finally decided to serve it to a bunch of clients, so he came to us. Lucky for him we’re on the job and willing to help.”
“Lucky for him and all the party guests,” Honey pointed out. “What are we going to do with the wine now, though? And are we morally obligated to go to the police and tell them that Frank was murdered? That he didn’t die in a hunting accident?”
“We’re going to dispose of the wine in whatever the best method of disposing poisons is, once we look it up,” Mart told her. “As for Frank? What would be the point? No one would believe us since we have no proof and he died sometime around when I was born, and well, he was going to kill the woman who killed him, so we could sorta write it off as self-defense anyway, right?”
******
“Listen up!” Dan called, holding up his hands for attention. “It’s late and it’s a school night. Our office is officially closed for the evening.”
Several groans and protests greeted this announcement.
“Deal with it,” he snapped. “We’ll be around this week and you are welcome to come back. Or… we could just do that banishment spell now…”
******
They sat around the clubhouse table, each staring at the three bottles Mart had set down in the center.
“We need to find a good place to hide them for now,” Trixie said thoughtfully. “Until we can get rid of them.”
“Can we glue them shut?” Honey asked.
“I think we should ruin them first.”
Mart glanced at his sister. “What do you mean?”
“Put something in them, like dirt. Or big rusty nails. Something that if someone somehow accidentally found them, they wouldn’t want to do any sampling. And put them in a box labeled, ‘Do not drink. Contaminated with rodent feces.’ or something like that.”
“All right,” Dan agreed. “Let’s ruin some wine and then I gotta get home. I still have an economics test to study for. Dang, our lives are strange.”
