Chapter Nineteen: Thieves in the Night

Ellen sat in the back seat of the Nissan Rogue—she’d left Mo at the hotel—and watched Nora’s house from across the street, two houses down. The rain was falling heavier than it had been earlier that evening when they’d watched the sunset from their balcony and had listened to Priestess Isabel’s reading. Ellen hadn’t anticipated the streetlamp in front of Nora’s house and the bright circle of light she and her friends must cross until they reached the row of fir trees. She hoped and prayed none of the neighbors were watching.

“I hope this rain lets up,” Sue said from behind the wheel. “Though I guess it might make us harder to spot by the neighbors.”

When one of the garage doors began to open, Ellen’s heart began to race.

“Is that her leaving?” Tanya asked from the passenger’s seat.

A blue SUV—a Honda Pilot—backed out of the drive and paused near the curb while the garage door closed. Then it drove off in the direction Ellen and her friends had come—toward an Italian restaurant called The Pink Door in downtown Seattle for the meeting that would never take place.

“Better hurry,” Ellen urged once Nora and her car were out of sight.

Ellen carried an empty tote and a plastic container filled with gray, powdery grout from Home Depot as she followed Tanya down the dark street toward the gray, two-story, split-level home they intended to burglarize tonight. Sue followed with a flashlight, which she had yet to turn on, so as not to alert the neighbors. This entire plan hinged on the hope that the basement window would still be open for what they had assumed was Nora’s black cat.

But with the heavy rain, Ellen wasn’t feeling optimistic.

They made their way to the left side of the house, near the row of firs, where Sue turned on the flashlight to help guide them toward the house. Ellen held her breath until the small basement window came into view.

“It’s closed,” Tanya said. “Sorry, guys.”

“Wait.” Sue moved closer to the house. “That’s a cat door. Can you see the hinges? The window pushes in and out.”

Ellen crouched near the window, blinking the rain out of her eyes. They hadn’t carried umbrellas because they were trying to be inconspicuous, but they were getting drenched.

As Ellen pushed against the windowpane, it gave. She pushed it as far as it would go and looked inside. A lamp was turned on. It sat on an end table beside a sofa where the black cat was licking itself. It looked up at Ellen and hissed.

“It’s okay, kitty,” Ellen said sweetly.

Tanya crouched beside Ellen. “I’m not sure I can fit through that opening.”

“Sure, you can,” Ellen encouraged. “Just go in feet first with your arms over your head.”

Tanya gave her a wry grin. “Sounds easy.”

“If anyone can do it, you can,” Sue said.

“Yeah, right,” Tanya said. “Lying won’t help anything. Can you see if there’s something beneath the window? Something I could hurt myself on when landing?”

Ellen pressed her head through the opening. The cat hissed at her again. “There’s a couch. Oh, perfect! Just fall on your bottom on the couch. Easy peasy. That’s probably what the cat does.”

“And we all know I have the dexterity of a cat,” Tanya said dryly.

As Sue held the light, Tanya sat on the wet ground, slid her legs through the opening, and scooted forward on her bottom, until her hips were through. Then she carefully eased in until she was hanging by her arms from the window ledge.

“I can almost reach the back of the couch,” Tanya said. “I can feel it with the tip of my toes.”

“Just let yourself go,” Ellen coached. “It’ll be a soft landing.”

“Here goes nothing.”

Tanya let go of the window and cried. “Oh!”

Ellen pushed her head through the opening. “Are you okay?”

Tanya looked up at her from where she sat on the sofa. “I’m fine. It just scared me, that’s all. Drop down the empty tote.”

Ellen dropped the tote, but when she heard Tanya cry, “Oh, no!” she poked her head through the door again.

“What’s wrong?” Ellen asked.

“The urns. They’re both bronze!”

Ellen studied them from where she was crouched at the window, her head still poking in through the cat door. “The one on the right is more of a shiny brass, isn’t it? Pick them up and see if there’s anything inscribed on them.”

Tanya handled the urns, inspecting them from top to bottom. “There’s nothing inscribed. Nothing at all. What do we do?”

“Does one look older than the other?” Sue asked from behind Ellen.

“The darker one looks older. Ellen’s right about the one on the right looking more like shiny brass than bronze.”

“Then go with the one on the left,” Ellen said. “We’ve gone this far. We may as well take a chance.”

“And what if it’s the wrong one?” Tanya asked anxiously. “What if we accidentally spread Nora’s mother’s ashes instead of Dan’s?”

“Should we take both ashes, just in case?” Sue wondered.

“Absolutely not,” Tanya said. “Dan wants to rest on the prairie, but we don’t know Nora’s mother’s wishes.”

Ellen shook her head. “The one on the left is clearly bronze, Tanya. Please, just empty those ashes into the tote, and let’s get out of here.”

Headlights appeared on the street. Sue killed her light. Ellen held her breath. When the car finally passed, Ellen took in a deep gulp of air.

Through the window, Ellen watched Tanya lift the lid of the bronze urn and pour the ashes into the tote. Specks of the dust whirled up in the air and into Tanya’s face—bits of Dan Pullen flying through the room. Then Tanya opened the plastic grout container and poured some of it into the urn. She didn’t need the whole container to equal what she had taken in ash. Then she returned the urn to the mantle and carried the tote of ashes to the window. She climbed up on the back of the couch and handed the tote to Ellen, who passed it back to Sue. Then she passed up the container with the rest of the grout.

“Give me your hand, Ellen,” Tanya said from where she stood on the back of the couch.

The rain had stopped as Ellen reached down through the window and clasped Tanya’s hand, but it didn’t change the fact that Ellen could not lift Tanya the ten inches or so that Tanya needed to reach the window ledge. Not only was she still sore from gravedigging, but she didn’t have the strength to lift Tanya.

“Pull, Ellen,” Tanya begged.

“Can you jump up to reach the ledge?” Ellen asked.

Tanya jumped but not high enough. “I’m too scared I’ll fall and break my neck.”

Just then, Ellen felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. “Hold on. That might be Nora.” Ellen released Tanya’s hand to check the text. “It is. She’s wondering where I am. I’ll tell her I have a flat tire and have to reschedule.”

Ellen sent the text, returned her phone to her pants’ pocket, and said, “Is there anything down there you can put on the back of the couch, to boost you up?”

Tanya left the window to have a look around the basement. The black cat had disappeared.

“She might have to go out another way,” Sue said. “Why don’t you try those sliding glass doors to the backyard?”

“What if I set off an alarm?” Tanya pointed out.

Sue glanced at Ellen. “We might not have a choice.”

Another set of headlights appeared on the street. Sue killed the flashlight again. The vehicle slowed down in front of Nora’s house.

“That can’t be Nora already,” Ellen murmured.

“No way,” Tanya said.

“No.” Sue crouched down on her hands and knees behind Ellen. “It’s not Nora. It’s a taxicab.”

“A taxicab?” Tanya repeated.

“Someone’s getting out of it and walking up to the house,” Sue added. “It’s a young woman.”

“She has red, curly hair,” Ellen observed, wondering if this might be Nora’s daughter.

“Oh, mother trucker!” Tanya cried. “What if she has a key?”

“Shh, listen,” Ellen said. “She’s talking to someone on the phone.”

“Hey, Mom . . . Yes, I’m at your house now . . . the flight was fine . . . yes . . . okay, but what’s the garage code again? . . . Okay . . . thanks . . . See you soon.”

The young woman waved the cabby off and dragged her rolling luggage up the driveway to the garage door, where she entered a code into the keypad. The garage door opened.

“Oh, Tanya,” Ellen cried. “You need to get out of there now!”

Tanya found a foot stool and wedged it onto the back of the couch. Then she jumped like a cat from the stool to the cat door, pulling herself up and out. The foot stool fell to the basement floor with a clatter.

“Are you okay?” Sue asked Tanya.

“I bumped my head and scraped my back,” Tanya said as she climbed to her feet. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

Ellen followed Tanya with the tote full of Dan’s ashes but tripped on a tree root and fell to her hands and knees. The tote dropped to the ground, too, and fell on its side. Ellen gasped, more concerned with the ashes than with the pain from the fall. Fortunately, only a tiny bit of the ash had spilled onto the ground. Ellen scooped it up, along with some mud—to make sure she had gotten it all—and then Sue helped her to her feet.

“Come on,” Sue urged. “Lights are turning on inside. We can’t risk being spotted out here.”

Tanya was long gone, already waiting in the vehicle. If she’d had the key, she could have picked up Sue and Ellen, who had no choice but to hobble across the front lawn in the bright light of the streetlamp and two houses down to the Rogue. Once they were in the vehicle, Sue punched the pedal and sped off.

“Geez Louise, that was close!” Ellen cried.

“Tell me about it,” Sue said with a laugh.

When Tanya made no comment, Ellen leaned forward in her seat. “You okay?”

“All that trouble, and we don’t even know if we have the right ashes.”

“But physically you’re okay, right?” Sue asked. “Or are you hurt?”

“I’m okay. Ugh! I can’t believe I let you two talk me into that. It was so stressful!”

“Just think about the good you’re doing,” Ellen reminded her. “You’re helping so many people. Dan can rest, and the tribe can have their land back, unencumbered by a vengeful ghost.”

“If we have the right ashes,” Tanya said.

“We have the right ashes,” Sue said.

Tanya shook her head. “You don’t know that.”

“Let’s operate under the assumption that we do,” Ellen suggested. “And just give it our best try, okay?”

“Don’t you think I’m doing that? That was my best try, Ellen. I nearly killed myself climbing out of there.”

“Tell me what I can do to make you feel better,” Sue said to Tanya.

“I want pasta,” Tanya said. “I want a big plate of fettucine smothered in alfredo sauce with soft French bread and a Caesar salad.”

“That’s not specific,” Sue teased with a laugh.

“I’ll order us takeout from The Pink Door!” Ellen exclaimed. “We can take it back to the room and celebrate our assumed victory.”

“Now that’s the best idea I’ve heard all day,” Tanya said.

Sue chuckled. “I think I can live with that decision, too.”

So much for skipping a meal, Ellen thought with a smile.

 

Once they had their food and had parked the car and were about to leave the Rogue to enter the Hyatt Regency, Tanya said to Ellen, “You’re not bringing those ashes in with us, are you? Why not leave them in the car?”

Ellen, who had strapped the tote over her shoulder, replied, “I don’t want to risk something happening to them.”

“Like what?” Sue challenged. “You think someone’s going to steal a tote full of dirt?”

“I do not want to sleep in the same hotel room with the ashes of a ghost that tried to kill us,” Tanya complained. “Come on, Ellen. Leave them in the car.”

“Fine.” Ellen tucked the tote onto the floorboard behind the driver’s seat and, with Moseby on his leash, followed her friends inside.