The Girl with the Uninvited Ghost: Pandemonium Cozy Mystery #1

Chapter 12

"This is one of Oregon's premier libraries?" The disappointment in Guy's voice was palatable. "It's so small."

The Pandemonium library was an unimpressive, squat building consisting of a mixture of red brick and spray stucco. It looked at odds with the more ornate constructions comprising Pandemonium's low skyline. It would seem that the city's planning council placed librarianship in the camp of unitarian functions.

"Oh, don't be so hard on the old place. Sure, it looks like it comes from off-the-rack blueprints, but it's what's inside that counts," Mahogany said, killing the Vespa's engine. She'd parked the yellow scooter next to an impressive cherry-red Harley.

"Well, the bike's nice, at least," Guy said. He patted the Vespa's seat and said, "Don't worry, little buddy. Maybe one day you'll grow up to be a Harley."

Mahogany gave an irritated grunt and headed toward the library's smoky glass doors. They slid open with an electric swoosh, and cool air surged to greet them.

The library was quiet this early morning—a few parents browsed the children's section with toddlers in strollers or carriers. Mahogany headed straight to the oversized, semi-circular reference desk at the library's center, Guy in tow.

"Good morning," Priscilla Wembley, Pandemonium's librarian, said. Priscilla's dark blue hair was spiked about her head in a tight pixie cut. She wore tight black leather pants and a fashionable red leather jacket that matched the Harley outside. Inked on her neck was a tattoo of a skull with crochet hooks crossed below it, followed by the phrase, "Hooker for life." Despite being of the werewolf persuasion, she was less fierce than others of her ilk.

Guy gave a low whistle. "Well, I guess we know who's bike that is outside."

"Hi, Priscilla. I have a strange request." Mahogany held her phone with the image she'd taken of the photo from the evidence locker. "If I wanted to learn who might be in this, how would I do that?"

Priscilla took Mahogany's phone and studied the image. "Do you know anything about it?" she asked.

"I must have been taken in the Boston area about twenty years ago," Mahogany said. "One of the boys in the photo is named Magoris Idius." Mahogany pointed to Magic Mike's x'd out face.

Priscilla handed the phone back to Mahogany. "Well, there can't be too many Folk out there who share the same name with the murdered wizard from the other night." She gave Mahogany a look that made her scalp tingle with sweat. "Let's see what a general search returns." She tapped away at her computer keyboard and then scrolled through the returned hits.

"Wizards are an odd lot. There may be loads of Magoris Idius," Mahogany said and glanced around the library. Thick wooden beams ran from the ceiling to the floor, creating a vast colonnade. Low bookshelves sat between the beams, allowing a full interior view. Several tables lined with computers took up the back half of the library. Comfy chairs and boxes of toys cluttered the children's area near the front of the space.

The librarian glanced at Mahogany. "I won't ask where you got that image. As far as Neema is concerned. You were never here."

Neema's reputation for keeping Mahogany on a tight leash was legendary in Pandemonium. If Mahogany hadn't been a natural outcast as a child, Neema would have dashed any budding friendships with her stifling presence.

Mahogany smiled. "Thank you. I appreciate that." While Priscilla scrutinized the search results, Mahogany took in the librarians' desk. A framed photo of a young girl flanked by a man and a woman adorned with matching knit hats sat on a low shelf. Mahogany nodded at the picture. "Is that you?"

Priscilla turned to the photo and nodded. "Yes. We'd go to Mount Hood every year and play in the snow. It was a family tradition."

Mahogany's eyes misted for a split second as she gazed at the photo. She often pondered what she and her family might have made their traditions.

Guy gazed at Mahogany. His eyes filled with concern.

Priscilla turned back to the computer screen, a slight smile lifting the corners of her mouth. "Well, here's something," she said. "That was way too easy."

"What?" Mahogany leaned over the tall counter to peer at the screen.

Priscilla turned the monitor toward Mahogany. An article archived from a newspaper in Boston showed the same photograph as the one in evidence. Next to the image, the story read: Local Teen Dies in Mysterious Accident.

Mahogany scanned the report and found Magic Mike's name mentioned alongside several others: Kassandra Frost, Aurora Kingsley, Thaddeus Spike, and Dorcia Frost.

"Thaddeus Spike. That's the name on the envelope," Guy said over her shoulder. "Kassandra and Dorcia Frost are probably related. Sisters, maybe, cousins? But which one's Neema, and why did she change her name?"

"Can you print this out for me?" Mahogany asked, contemplating all the same questions Guy had posed.

"Absolutely," Priscilla said. She tapped at the keyboard and a large printer near the desk revved to life.

"Now, where to?" Guy asked as they exited the library.

"If we're going to solve this, I need to know what you and Magic Mike did while in town," Mahogany slipped the helmet over her head.

"He didn't let me out too much. I spent most of my time planning for the binding spell," Guy said with a shrug.

"What about this girl you mentioned dating? Where did you meet her if you didn't get out much? She wasn't a Canadian girlfriend, was she?" Mahogany turned the key, and the Vespa began to hum.

"No, she's real. We met outside the brownstone." Guy sat on the back of the Vespa. "We'd sneak away to see each other. Me to avoid Mike and her to avoid her brother."

"Where would he go?" Mahogany said, ignoring the softening of her heart at the romance of Guy's secret meetings with Karrie. Her mind tickled at the Tony dream, and a blush warmed her cheeks.

"I'm not sure where he disappeared to, but he usually smelled of cider and fried food," Guy said. He braced himself for Mahogany to take off. Guy hadn't been ready the first few times when she'd sped away. He had stayed put, hovering in the air, only to be ripped after her, whipping around corners and through pedestrians. While not a wholly pleasurable experience, it left him discombobulated.

"I know just the place," Mahogany said, putting the Vespa out of the library parking lot.

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A/N: Priscilla, the motorcycle-riding werewolf librarian, sounds cool. I kind of want to be her friend. I hope nothing happens to her or Mahogany while they're investigating these murders.

This chapter is dedicated to the Irish writer, ColmnHerron. His book, The Wake, is a personal favorite. I learned a lot about Irish history, especially The Troubles that plagued the Irish city of Derry in the late 1960s and early 1970. The Wake does an amazing job retelling these marches and protests through the lens of a coming-of-age story of a young man bound by tradition but propelled by passion.