Montague and I knocked on Dudley’s door upstairs. No answer. It was locked, but Charley had a key.
No Dudley. His suitcase was open, but the bed hadn’t been slept in. The towels in the bathroom didn’t look used.
“Huh.” Montague folded her arms. “He went up around 5 or so. He drank enough coffee to stay up all night.”
Montague and Dudley were on the third floor. It had only three small rooms. A ladder on one wall climbed up to a trapdoor in the ceiling.
Montague opened the opposite door. “This is my room. Check it out if you want.”
We peeked. Rumpled sheets, underwear on the floor, but no Dudley here either,
I turned to Craig. “What’s in the attic?”
He shook his head. “I haven’t been up there in years.”
“Why would he be hiding up there?” Montague stared at the door above.
“If we’re going to look, we have to look everywhere. They taught us that in detective school.” I put a hand on a wooden rung. “
Before climbing I called Rachel. I always like to let her know what I’m doing in case of—problems. “Dudley’s not in his room. I’m going to check out the attic.”
“You want me to come help? I’m good at hide-and-seek.” She giggled.
She was, but this was no time to bring our sex life into it. “Stay there and keep an eye on the equipment. Call me if anything happens.” Then I climbed.
The attic smelled of mildew and rat poop. Cardboard boxes covered with dust were scattered across the floor. I spotted a rat skeleton crushed in a trap. No Dudley.
I climbed back down and slapped the dust from my hands. Montague and Charley emerged from the third room. Empty.
We knocked on the second-floor doors. Craig opened his door a crack, bare chested in his boxers. Red.. “What?”
“Who is it?” Brandy called.
Oops. “Sorry. Have you seen Dudley?”
“No!” He slammed the door.
Mrs. Heller shouted “Come!” when we knocked at her door. “What is it?” She sat in a heavy upholstered chair with her feet up on a stool, a hardcover book open across her lap. I couldn’t make out the title.
“We’re looking for Dudley.” I glanced across the room. “You haven’t, uh, seen him, have you?”
“That young man?” She shook her head. “I’ve just been reading.” She picked up her book. Danielle Steel. We let her get back to it.
I let Montague check my room. Then we headed back down to the command center. “Any sign of him?”
“He’s not running around keeping out of sight.” Kathryn pointed to a computer. “I’ve been watching the video.”
“I watched too. You guys looked like dorks on a scavenger hunt.” Rachel smirked. “And what was going on with Craig?”
I tried to hide a grin, not quite succeeding. “They must not have found anything good on TV.”
“There’s a cellar.” Charley pointed at the floor.
“We’re not supposed to go down there.” Kathryn shot him a nervous look. “Mom says. She’s got the only key.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. I looked at Montague. “We’re supposed to be investigating, aren’t we?”
“Those were the rules.” She seemed uncomfortable. “But it’s locked, right? So Emil couldn’t be down there.”
Vanessa Montague might have been an award-winning documentarian, but she’d obviously never been a reporter—or a detective. Tell me a place is off-limits, and it’s the one place I want to go.
But she had a point—Dudley probably couldn’t be down in the cellar if it was always locked. So where the hell was he?
I walked around the ground floor. The snow was piled three feet high on the veranda outside. No sign of anyone fighting their way through it. The other doors were blocked by snow. We could shove our way out in an emergency, but there was no sign that somebody else had.
The cellar door was locked, like Charley had said. I made a mental note to ask Mrs. Heller about the key. And ask her some questions about the basement.
Apparently the ghostly phenomena only visited the house after dark, because the morning passed quietly. Rachel and I hung out with Montague and Kathryn in the command post, watching the monitors for any signs of ghosts or Dudley while more snow blew around in thick white billows, piling up until it blocked half the window.
Lunch was sandwiches from Mrs. Chambers in the dining room. She and the maids shared a room in the back of the house for overnight stays. Mrs. Heller had her meal delivered to her room, so I didn’t get a chance to ask her about the basement. Charley drank a Coke and played on his phone. Kathryn ate fast to go rejoin Montague with a sandwich for her. Craig and Brandy didn’t make eye contact with me.
After lunch I went upstairs for a nap. Rachel hung out with Kathryn and Montague. I didn’t know what anyone else had planned, but I slept like a baby. A nervous baby, waking up and rolling over at every sound.
Rachel came in at around 4 p.m. and punched my arm. “Roll over. Some of us didn’t get any sleep last night either.”
I sat up and stretched. “Anything going on in the bunker?”
“Nah. I thought I saw a giant spider creeping up the wall in the study, but it turned out to be a real spider on the screen. We relocated it.” She yawned. “I ended up playing solitaire on my laptop for two hours. I noticed I hadn’t moved a card in 15 minutes, and that’s when I figured I needed sleep.”
“Good call. How are the others holding up?”
“Vanessa tried calling Dudley 17 times. Nothing. Kathryn kept falling asleep in her chair. I don’t see how Vanessa stays awake. Speed, maybe?” She shrugged and dropped on the bed. “Thanks for getting this warm for me.”
I kissed her cheek and headed downstairs.
Craig and Brandy were watching TV for real this time, and Charley played a game on his phone in a nearby chair. No sign of Mrs. Heller. Maybe she was avoiding all of us. In the command center I found Montague slumped in a chair, snoring softly.
After watching the screens for a few minutes—no whirling balls of fire in the front hall, no spiders on the screen—I got myself some coffee and opened up my laptop to do a little more research. On Montague, on Dudley, on the Hellers. But before I got very far, Montague’s phone started to buzz.
It sat in front of her laptop, bouncing with each buzz. Her hands fluttered as she started to stir, but I grabbed it before the call could go to voice mail.
DUDLEY. I pressed Answer “Emil?”
“V-Vanessa?”
“It’s Tom Jurgen. Where are you?”
Now Montague was awake, “Give me that!”
I put it on speaker and set it between us. “Emil!” she shouted. “What the hell happened to you?”
“I’m—I don’t know. It’s dark . . . fell asleep, or something. I don’t know. What’s going on?”
“What’s the last thing you remember?” I asked as Montague glared at me.
“I don’t—I was in my room, I think, but—”
The call went dead.
“Damn it!” Montague yanked the phone out of my reach. “This is my phone!”
“It was Dudley, and you were asleep.” I waited as she tried to call back. No answer.
“Damn it.” She slammed the phone down and leaned forward, peering at her screen. “Is he on here?” She started shifting feeds.
“We’ve got to get into the basement. It’s the only place left.” I pulled my own phone to call Rachel. I hated to wake her up, but she’d kill me if I didn’t. “Which room is Mrs. Heller’s?”
I fetched Charley and Craig from the study. Brandy was drinking a glass of wine and watching Jeopardy. Upstairs we went to the room at the end of the hall. Kathryn joined us, buttoning a sweater, with Rachel right behind running a hand through her hair. “What’s going on?”
“Dudley called. We need to check the basement.” I knocked on the door. “Mrs. Heller? I’m sorry, but we need some help.”
No response. I knocked again.
Craig reached around me and twisted the doorknob. “Mom? It’s me.” He opened the door. “Mom? Are you here? Mom?”
I followed him into the bedroom. Marsha Heller sat in her chair, her feet up, her book in her lap. Her eyes were closed.
She wasn’t breathing.
“Oh god.” Craig knelt in front of her feet. “Mom?”
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