Mercy Thompson 01-05 - THE MERCY THOMPSON COLLECTION

didn’t smell anyone. I couldn’t think of any reason anyone would lock us in the attic, anyway. It wasn’t as if we were going to perish up here ... unless someone set the whole house on fire or something.
    I pushed that helpful thought out of my head and decided it was probably our ghost. I’d read about ghosts who set houses on fire. Wasn’t Hans Holzer’s Borley Rectory supposedly burned down by its ghosts? But then I was pretty sure that Hans Holzer had been proved a fraud at some point ...
    â€œWell,” I told Chad, “that tells us that our ghost is vindictive and intelligent, anyway.” He looked pretty shook-up, clutching the plans in a way that would make any historian cringe at the way the fragile paper was wrinkling. “We might as well keep exploring, don’t you think?”
    When he still looked scared, I told him, “Your mother will be home sooner or later. When she comes upstairs, we can have her let us out.” Then I had an idea. I slipped my phone out of my front pocket, but when I called the number I’d saved for Amber, I could hear the phone in her bedroom ring.
    â€œDoes your mom have a cell phone?” She did. He punched the number in, and I listened to her cell phone tell me she wasn’t available. So I told her where we were and what had happened.
    â€œWhen she gets the message, she’ll come let us out,” I told Chad when I was finished. “If she doesn’t, we’ll call your dad. Want to see what’s in the last trunk?”
    He wasn’t happy about it, but he leaned on my shoulder while I finagled the last lock.
    We both stared at the treasure revealed when the last trunk opened.
    â€œWow,” I said. “I wonder if your parents know this is up here.” I paused. “I wonder if this is worth anything?”
    The last trunk was completely full of old records, mostly the thick black vinyl kind labeled 78 rpm. There was a method to the storage, I discovered. One pile was all children’s entertainment— The Story of Hiawatha, various children’s songs. And a treasure, Snow White complete with a storybook in the album cover that looked as though it had been made about the same time as the movie. Chad turned up his nose at Snow White, so I put it back in the correct pile.
    My cell phone rang and I checked the number. “Not your mom,” I told Chad. I flipped open the phone. “Hey, Adam. Did you ever listen to the Mello-Kings?”
    There was a little pause, and Adam sang in a passable bass, “Chip, chip, chip went the little bird ... and something, something, something went my heart. I assume there’s a reason you asked?”
    â€œChad and I are going though a box of old records,” I told him.
    â€œChad?” His voice was carefully neutral.
    â€œAmber’s ten-year-old son. I have in my own two hands a 1957 record by the Mello-Kings. I think it might be the newest one in here—nope. Chad just found a Beatles album ... uhm, cover. It looks like the record is missing. So the Mello-Kings are probably the newest thing here.”
    â€œI see. No luck hunting ghosts?”
    â€œSome.” I looked ruefully at the closed door that was keeping us prisoner. “What about you? How’re negotiations with the Mistress?”
    â€œWarren and Darryl are to meet with a pair of her vampires tonight.”
    â€œWhich ones?”
    â€œBernard and Wulfe.”
    â€œTell them to be careful,” I told him. “Wulfe is something more than just a vampire.” I’d only met Bernard once, and he hadn’t impressed me—or maybe I was just remembering Stefan’s reaction to him.
    â€œGo teach your granny to suck eggs,” said Adam calmly. “Don’t worry. Have you seen Stefan?”
    I touched my fingers to my neck. How to answer that. “I don’t know, he might have bitten me last night,” somehow didn’t seem the right thing to say. “He has been making himself scarce so far. Maybe tonight he’ll stop in to talk.”
    I heard the door open downstairs. “I need to go now, Amber’s back.”
    â€œAll right. I’ll call you tonight.” And he hung up.
    Someone ran up the stairs and into the bedroom. “Your mother’s home,” I told Chad, and began replacing the records. They were heavy. I couldn’t imagine what the whole trunk might weigh. Maybe they packed the trunk