“It’s up there.” She squeezed tighter. “And you’re welcome.”
32
By morning “Addamsville’s Firestarters” had aired on every news channel from New York to LA. Hundreds of videos flooded the Internet, some more believable than others. Tad Thompson, founder and leader ofDead Men Walking,had fought the assistant of Hermit Forester in a battle of fiery fisticuffs that scorched the streets of Addamsville from the Goldmine to the high school. Their trail led to the black silhouette of a body burned into the football field. The fight only ended when two shadowy figures driving an old muscle car came onto the scene to take Tad’s head and flee into the night.
Tad Thompson was gone, and the rest of theDMWcrew fled Addamsville shortly after, retreating to Indianapolis to escape the crush of fans and news crews. The footage they had on Artemis’smemory card was now proof theDMWcrew had known about the threat and done nothing, and I suspected that was why they said nothing about it. The producer claimed in one interview that they would search for the truth of what happened to Tad, but they would rely on the police first. Leila gave a very different story.
“I’m done with this,” she said to a reporter over the phone. “I don’t care what anyone else does. I’m out of here. I’m going somewhere warm. Ghosts are bullshit. Indiana is bullshit. This whole thing was Tad’s idea anyway, and he’s a demon now. I’m getting my money, and then I’m out of here.”
That morning I sat outside Happy Hal’s with half of Addamsville, watching a swarm of police, firefighters, and reporters mill up and down Handack and Valleywine. Everyone from Addamsville knew it was me and my car in the videos, but they watched me now with wide-eyed wariness. They didn’t know what I was, but at least now they were aware of it.
Dad was perched over me like a watchful hawk. Aunt Greta was there, vouching for my whereabouts and fighting off as many of the rumors as she could. So were Sadie and Grim, on the opposite side of the table. Hal was arguing with his dad about opening the shop. Mads had escaped her parents to swoop in and rescue Lorelei from hers; Buster was being led out of the crowd, bellowing his head off, by Officer Norm. Pastor Keller was standing where the town council ghosts had once been, decked out in full religious regalia and gripping hismoth-eaten Bible in both hands. To pray the evil away, I guess.
Like the town council ghosts, all of Bach’s corrupted spirits had disappeared after last night. So had Masrell, after we put Ludwig back through his entrance.
Next to me, Artemis said quietly, “I feel like we should have told theDMWcrew what happened to Tad. What if they wonder about it for the rest of their lives?”
“If they wanted the truth, they would have asked,” I said. “They know who to talk to. But they didn’t, and they’re still getting their money. So let’s leave them that way, huh? Leave them happy with their money.”
“Don’t you think knowing the truth might make them happy?”
“Hell no. You don’t go looking for the truth to behappy. You go looking so that youknow.”
Clusters of ghosts drifted amongst the onlookers. A girl in a floral dress watched Chief Rivera cut a path through the crowd. The ghosts that always watched Pastor Keller root through his trash for his glasses was following him around now.
Artemis said, “I think part of happiness is contentment. And knowing this, you can’t be content, because it creates so many more questions. How do ghosts exist? What does this mean about the afterlife? Who are we, that we can sense them? Ludwig was right. We don’t even know all the questions to ask yet.”
“Mysteries on mysteries,” I said.
Chief Rivera made her way up to our table. “Novaks,” shesaid, nodding to us. “Greta. Artemis. Mr. Grimshaw.” Sadie was pointedly holding her expression in check. “I found an interesting set of packages waiting for me at the police station this morning. The first contained several documents of dubious purpose relating to Buster Gates’s business practices. I found it interesting that this package appeared the morning after Buster reported the doors to his shop unlocked and some of his things rifled through, not to mention the Chevelle missing. I stopped by to see if it had any relation to what happened on this side of town.”
“I don’t know who would’ve done that,” Dad said, resting one hand on my shoulder and one on Artemis’s. “We were all at Greta’s last night, as my sister-in-law already explained to Officer Newall.”
“It seems,” Aunt Greta added, “that Tad Thompson had something against Zora. He could easily have made a stop at the junkyard on his way south.”
“Mm-hmm.” Rivera surveyed us from behind her aviators. “And I guess I should chalk the documents up to fiery shenanigans?”
“Hey,” I said, “at least the fiery shenanigans are over.”
She focused on me. “Are they now?”
“Forester’s gone.”
“That he is.” She took a deep breath, held it in, then let her shoulders relax. “That brings me to the second package. In it was what appeared to be the very legitimate will of Malcolm Grimshaw, the previous owner of Grimshaw House.”
We all stared at her.
“Who sent it?” Sadie asked.
“If I knew that, I’d already be questioning them,” the chief said. “Unfortunately the package was unmarked except for a very large letterB.Mr. Grimshaw, I’ll need you to come down to the station with me to talk about this document. And actually, Greta, it might be good if you come, too.”
“Happily,” Aunt Greta said.
“Can Lazarus come?” Grim asked, shaking as he stood from the table, even with Sadie’s hands to brace him. “I’m not very comfortable with legal issues.”
Dad jumped to Grim’s side. “All above the board, Abby, swear to God.”
“Fine,” Rivera said. Then to me and Artemis, “Don’t get into trouble, all right?”
