Chronicles Of The Keeper - Summon The Keeper Part 88

The steps were empty.

"I thought I told you not to open that while I was gone." Claire stepped out of her sitting room as he jerked back and closed the door. "What was out there?"

"The ghost of my granddad."

"He's dead? Sorry, stupid question." She went out into the lobby and searched his face. "It wasn't actually him, you know."

"Yeah. I know."

"You don't look so good. Maybe you should go to bed."

"Will they keep coming?"

"Yes. Probably until dawn."

He lifted his chin and squared his shoulders. "Then I'll stay."

"What was that?"

"Fachan. They've gone back to the cla.s.sics."

"That roast was for tomorrow's supper."

"Trust me, he wouldn't have been happy with candy."

Dawn seemed a long time coming.

"Any candy left?"

Claire tipped the bowl up on its side and tried to focus on the contents. Half a dozen empty wrappers fell out. "Looks like I've finished it."

"What were those last two things again."

"An ogre and a Duergar. Why?" She blew a weary bubble.

Dean pulled off his gla.s.ses and rubbed his eyes. "Did you really spin straw into gold?"

"It was going around in a circle, so technically it was spinning." The Duergar hadn't been entirely happy, but since it had the treat, it couldn't trick. The ogre, on the other hand, had ripped the railing out around the area and tossed it and the hotel sign out into the street. Treating an ogre meant feeding it dinner.

Ogres were man-eaters. The trick was knowing that.

Austin lifted his head off his paws and yawned. "Sun's up. And the candle just went out." He leaped off the windowsill as the pumpkin collapsed in on itself, smoking slightly.

Shoving his gla.s.ses back on approximately where they belonged, Dean stood and headed for the door. "I think I'll get that stuff off the road before there's an accident."

Dragging herself up onto her feet, Claire waited a moment until the world stopped spinning. "I think I'll go throw up."

THAT'S IT? YOU SCARED THEM A TIME OR TWO AND YOU DID A LITTLE DAMAGE AND YOU TIRED THEM OUT, BIG DEAL. THE KEEPER FIELDED EVERYTHING YOU THREW AT HER AND NEVER ONCE DREW POWER FROM LOWER THAN THE MIDDLE OF THE POSSIBILITIES.

SO LET'S SEE YOU DO BETTER. The rest of h.e.l.l sounded miffed.

BETTER?.

OKAY. FINE. WORSE.

WAIT FOR IT....

Down on one knee, the police constable poked at the hole torn in the concrete setting and shook his head. "When exactly did this happen?"

"About four A.M."

"Four-twelve," Mrs. Abrams corrected. "I know because when I heard the noise, and it was a terrible noise, I looked at my alarm clock and even though I bought it before Mr. Abrams died, G.o.d bless the man, it still keeps perfect time."

"Four-twelve," the constable repeated. "Did you happen to see who did it?"

"Oh, no! I wasn't going to expose myself to that kind of destructive hooliganism. That's what the police are paid for and that's why I called them."

"I was actually asking Ms. Hansen."

Since there'd been a chance of flying gla.s.s, Claire had stayed away from the window and so could truthfully answer, "Sorry, I didn't see anything."

"It was probably a gang of students from the university. They get a few too many drinks in them and go crazy."

"That sounds reasonable," Claire agreed as he stood. It wasn't what had happened, but it sounded reasonable. Most of the vandalism in Kingston conveniently got blamed on wandering gangs of students from the university who'd had a few too many drinks. Occasionally they were spotted in the distance, but no one ever managed to identify individuals since, like other legendary creatures, they vanished when too closely approached.

"When you arrest them," Mrs. Abrams said, so determined to do her civic duty that she clutched at the constable's sleeve, "you let me know. I'm the one who called. Mrs. Abrams. One be and an ess."

"You're the lady with the dog, aren't you?"

"You've heard of my Baby?" she beamed up at him.

The constable sighed. "Oh, yeah."

Another call dragged the grateful police officer back into his car and away. Mrs. Abrams transferred her attention to Claire.

"You haven't forgotten that Professor Jackson is coming to stay the day after tomorrow, have you, Kimberly, dear?"

"We're looking forward to it, Mrs. Abrams."

"I'm sure you'll take wonderful care of him. I'll likely be over to visit him while he's there. Only because Baby dislikes him so, you know. We wouldn't ever do anything compromising. Although," she simpered, "I used to be quite progressive in my younger days."

The worst of it was, she was telling the truth. Shuddering slightly, Claire went inside and spent the rest of the day trying to catch up on her sleep without dreaming of Mrs. Abrams and the professor in progressive positions. Had she not checked to insure all s.h.i.+elds were holding, she'd have a.s.sumed the dreams, in graphic detail with full sound and color, had risen up out of the pit.

"You Claire Hansen?"

Claire checked, but the courier had not been called by h.e.l.l. Which made sense after she thought about it a moment; if something absolutely had to be delivered the next business day, h.e.l.l'd prefer it to be late. "Yes, I'm Claire Hansen."

"Sign here."