Tempest tugged on the door once more. It didn’t budge.
With a killer at large, plus Moriarty’s surprise visit (not to mention her rabbit’s divided loyalties), Tempest was determined to finish installing the door to the Secret Fort with Abra’s hutch.
The problem was, she didn’t know how to install a door. Her dad had helped her with the initial measurements and picking out the door itself, but he’d had to go to a job site. Luckily, Sanjay was being overprotective and jumped at the chance to come help her. She dearly hoped it wasn’t the kiss, which hadn’t really been a kiss but more of a brain-explosion-preventer.
Unfortunately, Sanjay knew even less about installing a door than she did.
“I think it’s sticking at the top.” Using her body as she did so well on the stage, Tempest used the strength of her quads to push herself up and her biceps to pull, rock climbing to reach the top of the stone doorframe.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“I’ll only fall a few feet if I lose my grip.” She made the mistake of looking down. Abra was directly beneath her. She wouldn’t hurt herself if she fell, but she’d crush her beloved bunny. She swung the other way and lost her grip, crashing onto the ground and scraping her palm.
She breathed a sigh of relief that a fifteen-pound lop-eared rabbit hadn’t broken her fall. She brushed a lock of her thick black hair out of her eyes. The bunny was safely above her, held in the arms of her human companion.
“See how selfless I am?” Sanjay said. “I rescued Abra even though he bit me.”
“He must’ve had a good reason for biting you.”
“I did nothing except rescue him. I swear.”
Tempest studied his face. “You’re keeping something from me. Again.”
Sanjay stared down his nose at the rabbit, who had just chomped his finger a second time.
“What has Abra got against me?” he asked. “He used to like me.”
“He’s a wonderful judge of character,” said Tempest. “He knows you’re hiding something.”
Sanjay straightened. “He can’t possibly know that.”
“No. He was just scared. But now you’ve admitted it to me.”
Aside from petting Abra as he’d been doing already, Sanjay didn’t move. The only change on his face was an almost imperceptible lowering of the hoods of his eyes.
“You have the world’s worst poker face,” Tempest continued.
“That is patently untrue.”
“You’re right. I should clarify, when you’re not on stage, you have the worst poker face. Only The Hindi Houdini has a good poker face. Not the real you.”
Sanjay considered the statement, then using his free hand he tossed his bowler hat onto the hook on the other side of the fort. It landed exactly where he intended. Still holding Abra, he took a bow. He had long ago perfected the balance of confidence and graciousness in a stage bow.
“Misdirection,” said Tempest, “will do you no good.”
He took a step closer and reached for her hand. “Won’t it?”
In one sweeping motion, Tempest stepped aside and dodged his hand, instead taking Abra into her arms.
“Good bunny.” She scratched the rabbit’s floppy, oversize ears. “Now, what do you say we get Sanjay to tell us what he’s up to this time.”
Abra wriggled his nose at Sanjay.
“It wasn’t my idea,” Sanjay insisted. Tempest could have sworn he was speaking to the bunny instead of her. “And I’m not supposed to tell.”
“I don’t like the sound of that.”
“Your grandfather wants me to hold one more séance at Lavinia’s house.”
“What?”
“He’s on trial for his life. How can I refuse?” He groaned. “I’m supposed to bring my Cabinet of Curiosities trunk with me.”
“The one with those creepy relics?”
“They’re plastic and metal, not real bone, but yes. Relic-hunting gear is in there as well, like faux-aged rope and antique silver bullets.” He groaned. “Why does this keep happening to me?”
The siren from an ambulance made it impossible to keep talking. Whatever emergency it was heading toward, it was close.
The siren cut off abruptly.
“Did that just stop at your house?” asked Sanjay.
It had.
Without another thought, Tempest set Abra back in his cage and ran toward the tree house. Sanjay followed, but fell a few paces behind because he wasn’t as familiar with the sloping hillside terrain. When Tempest reached the tree house, her grandfather was already on a stretcher, being looked after by two paramedics.
“What’s happened?” Tempest asked her grandmother, who stood nearby with a pale hand clasped over her mouth.
“I need to go with him,” Morag whispered as one of the paramedics wheeled the stretcher down the path toward the driveway.
Ash’s eyes lit up with horror. At first, Tempest thought it was pain from whatever had happened to his leg, now aggravated by being jostled. His trousers had ripped below the knee, revealing blood beneath.
No. He wasn’t reacting to pain. His horrified expression was directed at something. No, someone. Ash was staring at Sanjay.
One of the paramedics told Tempest which hospital they were headed to. As Morag climbed into the ambulance to accompany Ash to the hospital, she told Tempest that Ash had fallen down the stairs. Before Tempest could ask anything more, the ambulance doors shut.
“What the hell was that look he gave me?” Sanjay asked as he and Tempest piled into her jeep. “If those EMTs saw Ash looking at me like that, they’ll assume his fall wasn’t an accident and I’m the person who pushed him down the stairs.”
“Ash is steadier on his feet than I am.” Tempest rubbed the smooth silver of her charm bracelet to calm herself before starting the engine. “Something isn’t right.”
“You’ll be my alibi, right?”
“What?” Tempest peeled out of the driveway. “Oh. Of course. Nobody pushed him down the stairs. Stop catastrophizing.”
“I’m the most optimistic person I know. If I think something is bad, it’s bad.” Sanjay tugged at his collar. “Why was he looking at me like I was the Devil himself?”
“He wasn’t. Put on your seat belt.”
Sanjay braced his hands against the dashboard. “Try not to kill us on the way to the hospital.”
“He wasn’t afraid of you. The look on his face was something else.”
“What?”
Tempest shook her head. “I don’t know yet.”
When they arrived at the hospital, it took them a few minutes to find parking and an even longer amount of time to find Morag. When they finally tracked down someone who could give them information, they found her sitting in a nearly empty waiting room, a tissue in her hand.
“Your grandfather is gone,” Morag said.
“Gone?” Tempest stared at her grandmother, barely aware that her legs were turning to jelly.
“Auch!” Morag cried, jumping up and grabbing Tempest’s arm to steady her. “That’s not what it was meant to sound like. He’s alive. Ashok Raj is alive and healthier than ever. That’s how he’s evaded them.”
“Evaded them?”
“Your grandfather has escaped.”