Tragic Magic (33 page)

A zombie on the lower steps went flying, hanging bats banged her in the head, and spiderwebs were filmy barriers that Carmela virtually flew through.

And still Jack Meador was hot on her trail!

Tripping on the last step, crashing painfully to her knees, Carmela scrambled to pull herself up, losing a few more of her ropes and grabbing a nearby brass candlestick in the process.

“I see you!” bellowed Meador. One hand reached out and pawed at the back of her blouse, but Carmela lunged around a corner into the Morgue of Madness. She skittered slightly, dancing around the metal table, then shoved it at Meador. Because there was no place else to run to, Carmela flung open the door and ran full-tilt into the crematorium.

Meador, hampered momentarily by the heavy table, came crashing in ten seconds later.

Carmela was ready for him. With the heavy candlestick poised high above her head, she brought it down hard on top of Meador’s head. There was an ugly crunch, followed by a high-pitched scream, as it glanced off the back of his neck. Meador swore as he staggered, sank to his knees, then went facedown on the floor.

Without hesitating, Carmela lunged for the huge metal switch on the wall and pulled it down hard. Then she was slaloming out the door, slamming it closed behind her.

Inside the crematorium, the newly installed special effects jumped to life in a spectacularly frightening manner.
Heat lamps glowed with full intensity, flames leaped and danced on the walls, and a motor roared like a jet engine.

And Jack Meador, stunned by the blow to his head, threw his hands over his face and screamed as though the flesh on his body were being scorched by the hellish flames of eternity.

R
UNNING for her life, Carmela stumbled into the front parlor, crying, hiccupping, screaming for help. A glance to the left revealed the terrifying snake-ringed face of Medusa over the fireplace. A step to the right and Carmela was suddenly flinging herself against the front door.

The door stuck for a moment, as though someone were on the other side, holding on, and then it crashed open and Carmela rushed into a pair of waiting arms.

Struggling to get free, flailing wildly, Carmela didn’t realize just who had hold of her.

“Easy, easy,” came Edgar Babcock’s soothing words. “You’re safe.”

Carmela stopped her struggling and stared, wide-eyed, at Babcock. “How did you know where I was?”

“You left me a voice mail, remember?”

To Carmela that voice mail seemed like a lifetime ago.

“Jack Meador killed Melody,” Carmela blurted, her words beginning to tumble out. She was aware of two police cruisers
screaming up to the curb and officers running toward them. “And then he tried to kill me. There’s some sort of . . . of painting . . . a really valuable painting that he was trying to get his hands on. Melody must not have known it was valuable, because Meador killed her or robbed her or . . . or . . . whatever.” Carmela suddenly went limp in Babcock’s arms.

“Inside,” was Babcock’s taut instruction to the uniformed officers.

“He’s got a gun!” Carmela cried after them. “Meador’s armed!”

“So are we,” said Babcock, suddenly leaving her on the doorstep and dashing in after the officers.

“Wait a minute!” said Carmela, lunging after him. But Babcock’s long strides had already put him twenty paces ahead of her.

Carmela finally caught up in the Morgue of Madness, where the five of them were clustered around the crematorium door, mumbling in low voices.

Babcock finally noticed her. He didn’t look happy. “Why is it so hot in there?” he demanded. “Is it a real crematorium?”

Carmela shook her head. “It’s all smoke and mirrors. Heat lamps and projections.”

One officer gazed at Babcock and said, “Guy was screaming his head off like he was being tortured. Then we heard a loud gasp.”

“Just seemed to give up the ghost,” said another officer.

“Ghost,” said Carmela. “Hah.”

They all listened for a few moments and finally heard a low groan from inside.

“Throw the gun out,” barked Babcock. “Or would you rather we toss in a nice stun grenade and let you spend the night together?”

“I’ll throw it out,” came the subdued voice of Jack Meador.

Out on the front verandah, handcuffed and in custody, Jack Meador seemed to regain some of his feistiness.

“I understand Ms. Mayfeldt showed up at your gallery with the Ivern painting?” Babcock was questioning Meador while Carmela clutched the painting she’d hastily retrieved.

Meador stared at them.

“And you knew exactly what it was,” said Babcock.

Meador had a crazy gleam in his eye. “Yes, but she didn’t,” he barked. Glaring at Carmela, he curled his lip and said, “I want a lawyer.”

“Easily done,” said Babcock, as the officers led Meador away. He reached a hand out. “Let me see that thing.”

Carmela handed him the painting she’d just pulled off the wall in the library.

He tilted it to catch the light. “Oh man,” groaned Babcock.

“It’s not
that
bad,” said Carmela, a note of reproach in her voice.

But Babcock wasn’t looking at the painting. His eyes were focused on the street, where Ava Gruiex and Jekyl Hardy had just pulled up in Jekyl’s Jaguar. “Just what we don’t need.”

“Cher!”
screamed Ava, tottering up the walk, coming full-tilt on three-inch stilettos. “I was so
scared
! Are you okay?”

“I am now,” said Carmela, allowing herself to be kissed, hugged, and generally fawned over by both Ava and Jekyl. Then, of course, she had to relate her story, kidnapping, and ensuing rescue in Technicolor-type prose.

Jekyl carried the painting inside Medusa Manor, where he could study it under semidecent lighting.

“This is a phenomenal piece,” he pronounced. “Emilio Ivern was a student of Goya. This painting is probably worth a fortune!”

“I’m beginning to understand that,” said Carmela.

“Where did Melody get this painting?” asked Babcock.

“I’m pretty sure she bought it at auction,” Carmela told them.

“Finders keepers,” said Jekyl.

“Is that so?” asked Ava. “So who owns it now?”

“If Melody paid for it, Melody owns it,” said Babcock. “Or at least her estate does.”

“Then Garth owns it,” said Carmela.

“And he has no idea of its value?” asked Ava.

“I doubt he even knows it exists,” said Carmela.

“Lucky guy,” said Jekyl.

“Is he?” asked Carmela. “Is he really?”

Ava found it necessary to hug Carmela a few more times. Then she said, “So . . . there was no . . . what would you call it? . . . collusion between Olivia Wainwright and Sawyer Barnes?”

“Only a possible real estate deal,” said Babcock.

Carmela nodded. “And Sidney was just a . . .”

“A crackpot,” finished Ava. “Who’s gonna be mighty unhappy when he finds out what happened.”

“Didn’t get to film the nail-biting ending,” said Carmela.

Ava put an arm around Carmela. “Saved by the ghost brides, huh? I knew those dresses were good for something.”

“Ghost brides?” asked Jekyl.

Babcock just shook his head. “You’d have to see it to believe it.”

But Ava was not to be deterred. “Something old, something new,” she sang. “Something borrowed, something blue.” With a mischievous gleam in her eye, she grabbed Carmela’s hand and linked it with Babcock’s. “Who knows, it could happen to you!”

“Ava!” shrilled Carmela. But her smile was a mile wide.

Everyone has a few photos that didn’t turn out quite as planned. Somebody moved, somebody blinked, your son stuck out his tongue. No problem. Just create a Photo Blooper page at the back of your album. This is your chance to go wild with colors and design ideas, then add all those crazy photos. You’re sure to get plenty of laughs!

Lay a baby outfit on a color copier and make a copy to use as a background for your scrapbook page. This color-copy technique works great for all sorts of bulky objects such as badges, scarves, T-shirts, and even floral bouquets.

All kids have a favorite storybook, so why not scan or color-copy drawings from their favorite book, then add them to a
scrapbook page? Have that lovable bear, goofy Muppet, or sweet little mouse capering right across your child’s own scrapbook page.

Turn tan, khaki, and light-brown paper into antiqued paper by scratching it up with an emery board or sandpaper. Then put a little dark brown ink on a rag and rub gently in the lines for an even more dramatic effect. Could be the perfect background for that wonderful old photo of your grandparents!

It’s fun to add flower motifs to your scrapbook pages, especially when you’re doing engagement, wedding, or even summer themes. But why settle for flat flowers when you can have something tactile? Using velveteen paper, cut petals and centers, then scrunch them up slightly and glue them together as daisies, lilies, even bluebells.

Pour a little acrylic paint into a dish. Then place your child’s hands or feet into the ink, coat generously, then press those little fingers and toes against a piece of paper or directly against your scrapbook page. Your kids will love doing it and you’ll have a wonderful, permanent memory.

Love the designer ribbon that fancy gift and floral shops use, but don’t like to pay the price? Create your own by buying inexpensive, wide ribbon at a craft store, then stamping your own designs onto it using metallic ink.

Did you know you can build your concept and select your papers and designs
before
you take your photos? Here’s an example: You’ve found the perfect beach-themed paper, seahorse stickers, and surfboard die cut. So go ahead and scrap that page—leaving room for a photo or two. Once you’ve created your concept, you’ll know exactly what type of photo you need to take!

Never underestimate the personal touch of homemade captions. Take a squishy pen and write your own thoughts, remarks, or memories directly beneath your photos.

Heat the oil in a large stockpot, then add the flour, stirring constantly over low to medium heat. After 10 minutes, you should have a golden roux. Slowly add 1 cup of the chicken stock and stir until the stock is completely incorporated. Then add the
onion, celery, and green bell pepper, cooking and stirring for 5 to 6 minutes, until the vegetables begin to get tender. Add the remaining chicken stock and the Cajun seasoning, sausage, bay leaves, Worcestershire sauce, and okra. Bring to a gentle simmer and allow to cook, uncovered, for 1 hour. To serve, remove the bay leaves, spoon the gumbo over rice, and add hot sauce to taste.

Preheat the oven to 375°. Sift together the flour, baking powder, and salt. Add the mayonnaise, milk, and sugar and mix until smooth. Scoop a small amount of batter into each of 12 greased muffin tins, filling them about ½ to ⅔ full. Bake for 18 to 20 minutes.