Page 33 of Hoodoo House
“He scammed me out of ten bucks.”
“With a kid like that, I think you got off easy.”
Charlie nodded. “I suspect you’re right. I also gave him our business card in case he figures his way through that keypad. Somehow I think he’s gonna get there before we do.”
“Well, we’ll have to talk to him again regardless,” Declan said. “I want to see if he knows anything more about the door in that tunnel that leads outside. I didn’t say anything, but I think it’s been used recently.”
* * * *
Charlie was in a much better mood than during the drive out. When he was focused on work, he and Declan clicked. For now, that was where he had to focus his attention. He got on his phone and called Sinclair Yamada. The call went straight to voicemail. Charlie checked his calendar and left a message asking Sinclair to come into the office around one the following afternoon. Then Charlie called the office number and discovered there were three messages, all of them from Cody White.
Charlie turned to Declan and said, “Cody White sounds desperate. He said he’s in deep trouble.”
“Call him, and set up an appointment for tomorrow, after Sinclair’s meeting,” Declan replied.
Charlie called Cody White’s number, but it went straight to voicemail. Charlie left the details of the office location and suggested a meeting time of three p.m.
Just as he finished his call, a loud squealing sound came out of the engine compartment. The smell of burning rubber came through the vents and steam began to waft up from beneath the hood. The needles on the temperature and alternator gauges began to skew upward.
“Crap,” Declan muttered.
Charlie remained silent.
Declan pulled to the side of the road. He got out of the car and popped the hood. Charlie joined him. The problem became immediately obvious. It was a broken fan belt.
“You’re not wearing pantyhose, are you?” Declan asked Charlie.
“I didn’t think it was that kind of car trip.”
“It’s an old remedy for a broken fan belt. I don’t think the Beast is going anywhere tonight. Do you have an emergency kit in the trunk?”
Charlie nodded. “Yup, but not one with a fan belt, if that’s what you’re thinking. Let’s see what else I’ve got back there.”
Charlie opened the kit and found little of use, but was able to set up warning reflectors behind the car. It was decided they would head on foot for Rosebud. Declan assumed it would be faster to get a local mechanic to do the work than calling CAA. After all, by his estimation, they were now less than a kilometre from town.
Chapter Thirteen
It was thirty minutes later when Declan and Charlie found the Rosebud Inn, a large two-storey clapboard house. Unlike Hoodoo House, it was covered in a fresh coat of white paint. They climbed the three steps to the light grey wooden porch which wrapped around three sides of the building. The porch roof was supported by slender turned posts that were covered with machine-carved decorations, each painted in alternating muted colours of maroon, blue and green. Declan thought it was a bit fussy, but complementary to the style of the architecture. On the porch were a number of white-painted wicker chairs with overstuffed cushions in floral prints. An elderly woman, also in a floral print, sat on one of the rocking chairs. She was so still that he didn’t see her at first. In her lap was a pudgy sable-coloured ball of hair with heavily lidded eyes and a curly tongue. Declan nodded. The woman smiled and nodded back.
“My sweet Pekingese Frisky would say hello,” she said, “but he’s done in. Been chasing a ball all afternoon and he’ll be out until happy hour.”
“A very sensible dog,” Charlie said.
“That he is,” she said, scrubbing him a little too harshly on the head. The dog woke, and nipped at the woman’s hand.
“And playful,” she continued as she thoroughly fussed him up. The dog let out a yap, then settled back into her ample lap and seemed to fall asleep.
Declan and Charlie walked past her up to the front desk and rang the antique bell sitting on the counter. A sleepy-looking face popped up from behind the desk. It was attached to the body of a young man. He was about Charlie’s age. His name tag identified him as William. He brushed himself off.
“Please don’t tell anyone you found me napping behind the counter. The boss would not be too pleased with me.”
“Your secret is safe with me,” Declan said as he flashed him a big smile.
William smiled back. “Frisky usually naps with me and barks as soon as he hears someone coming up to the desk. I’m not sure where he is.”
“I think you’ll find him curled up in a woman’s lap outside,” Charlie offered.
“That would be Mrs Carlyle. She’s been a resident here for the last few years, ever since her husband died when he was run over by his cow.”
