"Can I put you on hold?" Ruby asked. "Oh...you are calling from where?"
As the red light flashed and the phone continued to ring, I spun Ruby's lucite organizer and wondered how I could hack into their computer without the FBI finding out.
Ruby covered the receiver with her hand. "Do you mind answering that?" she asked, pointing to Janice's phone.
Who did she think I was? I didn't work here anymore, and I most certainly wasn't on the clock. I went to Janice's desk, pressed line two, and picked up the phone. "Armstrong Travel, where Spain is hot and the men are hotter. Can I book you a trip there?"
"Do you have any specials on cruises?" a woman's voice asked.
"Janice?" I said. "Janice, is that you?"
Ruby glanced over at me.
"No, my name isn't Janice," the caller answered. "It's Liz. I'm interested in a vacation cruise to Alaska."
"Keys?" I asked loud enough for Ruby to hear. "You need car keys?"
"No," Liz corrected. "I said 'cruise.'"
Ruby looked over.
"You're at the post office? Your cell is breaking up. You need Ruby to pick you up?"
"I thought you said this was Armstrong Travel," Liz said.
"Let me talk," Ruby said to me. "Excuse me," she said politely to her caller, "I need to put you on hold."
"I'm sorry, I must have the wrong number," the inquiring Liz said, and hung up.
Ruby switched lines just as line two's red light went dead. "Janice? Janice?"
"Her cell kept dropping, then went dead. Maybe it wasn't her--"
"No, she's been frazzled all day."
Ruby hurried over to her business partner's desk and found a spare set of keys in her top drawer. "Do you mind riding these over to the post office for me?"
This plan wasn't for me to leave. Ruby was making this difficult.
"I don't have my bike."
"Do you have your driver's license?"
"I have my temps."
Ruby glanced at me, then outside at her white Mercedes parked in front of the agency. I could see her mind race as she imagined me screeching down the street, blasting Marilyn Manson, and returning her car with newly painted black widow spiders running alongside the exterior.
"I'll have to close the agency," she said.
"Well...," I began, twisting a lock of hair. "I could watch the office, if that would help you."
"You really aren't dressed appropriately," she said, eyeing my morose-looking outfit. "But I guess I don't have a choice. You wouldn't mind staying here for just a few minutes? I hate to close the agency."
"Well--"
"I won't be long, really," she said, gathering her purse and keys. "It would be a big help."
"Will I be paid the same rate as before?"
"Paid?" she asked with her hand on her hip. "I'll only be gone for a few minutes."
"How about throwing in a few plane tickets, too?"
Flustered, Ruby paused. "I'll give you ten dollars and a coupon for a free movie." "Deal."
"You drive a hard bargain. That's what I've always liked about you," she said as she raced out the door.
I sat at Ruby's desk. I flipped through a Conde Nast magazine until I saw her get in her white Mercedes and drive off.
Now that I was employed again, even if only for twenty minutes, it was part of my job to be informed. I logged on to her computer using the same password I had when I was in her employ. � Within moments I was surfing through the itineraries of vacationing Dullsvillians.
Chapter 6 The Hiding Place
After my brief re-employment at Armstrong Travel, I arrived home, and geared up for my continuing mission. Wearing my Olivia Outcast backpack, I hopped on my mountain bike and headed for Loveland.
On the good side of the tracks sat Loveland, a quiet, middle- class community filled with vintage and modern homes.
I stopped at the corner of Shenandoah Avenue. I put on my sunglasses and Emily the Strange hoodie, so I wouldn't be recognized, though no one else in town dressed like I did. I pulled out my list of three Dullsvillian vacationers. For seven days and six nights, three Matten families--all related--were traveling to Los Angeles.
I felt like a gothic Goldilocks as I crept up the first driveway. The senior Matten Victorian-style house was gigantic. Their three-car garage could easily fit a few cars and a few sleeping vampires. I pressed the silver button and waited for the white door to open. It remained still.
A few houses down, the Mattens' eldest son's home appeared to be way too small. The one-car detached garage could barely fit a car, much less a coffin. I pressed the door opener anyway, but the door didn't budge.
Determined to find my nocturnal bounty, I made my way across the street, to the third Matten house. The Tudor-style home had a backyard garage hidden by a few trees. Their two-car garage seemed just right. Only it wasn't. The door didn't move.
Frustrated, I checked my list again.
By the time I headed for Oakley Village, I felt like I needed a few blood-filled amulets to recharge my pounding heart.
Oakley Village was a prosperous community of ultra-upscale homes. A who's who of successful Dullsvillians. I discovered on Ruby's computer that the Witherspoons, a retired couple who had just sold Witherspoon Lumber, were booked on a trip to Europe. They had departed three days ago and were scheduled to return in thirty days.
I rode up Tyler Street and turned into number 1455. The Witherspoons lived in a beautiful yellow-shuttered Victorian-style home with an attached three-car garage.
I quickly snuck up their driveway.
I checked out my surroundings to make sure there weren't any nosy neighbors eyeballing me. When I saw I was in the clear, I aimed the opener at the door. I took a deep breath and pressed the silver button.
The door didn't move. I pressed it again.
Nothing happened. This couldn't be! I tapped it over and over. Still, the door remained fixed.
I ran to the front of the house and pressed my face against the carport's yellow-shuttered window. The garage was empty of cars and coffins.
I stormed down the driveway to retrieve my bike and checked my Hello Batty watch. I had only a few more hours left of sunlight until this hunter would become the hunted.
I held the door opener in my hand. Which garage did it belong to?
Frustrated, I decided to return home, wait until sunset for Alexander to awake, then confess I hadn't made any Underworldly discoveries. I coasted down the winding road, heading for a shortcut through the Oakley Woods.
I began riding over the bumpy terrain, but then I saw something odd. Sticking out from behind a large pile of wood chips was a vintage hearse!