Villa Hooey

Zoë lurched away from the damp limestone wall, her hands swatting at her head without making contact, her sudden scream erupting into Mavis’s ear.

“Goodness child,” Mavis said, rubbing the offended ear, “that’s enough to wake the dead—and I don’t think I’m there quite yet, thank you.”

Zoë continued her erratic dance, stomping her Doc Martins and shaking her head. “Something’s in my hair! Is it a bat?”

Janet held her lantern aloft, “You look like a mare in heat.” Her voice rippled with amusement.

“Yeah, well you would know,” Zoë muttered.

Janet ignored the barb, “You might want to rethink your career choice, or maybe that’s a given—what with being afraid of the dark and creepy crawly stuff.”

Mavis caught up with Zoë and advised her to stand still. “If some poor thing is caught in there it is probably terrified.”

“How do you think I feel about it?” Zoë said, crossing her arms to contain her trembling as Mavis made soothing sounds and separated sections of Zoë’s long red hair.

“Get a grip,” Janet said. “Did you two find anything?”

“Yeah, bats,” Zoë replied. “There are some pine boughs and rags near the back--God only knows what else could be living in there.”

“Well whatever might have gotten in your hair is gone now,” Mavis assured her.

“Fine, thanks. Now can we get out of here?” Zoë asked.

“If you can turn your back on all of this you can’t be much of a mystery writer.” Janet lifted her lantern higher, revealing the shimmering walls and the darkness beyond.

She faced the small group, barely able to contain her excitement. “Ladies, I think I may have found a few items of interest. Shall we continue?”

Clutched together in a loose knot, the women inched their way along the passageway.

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