The Magi (The Magi Series) (4 page)

Detective Scott looked very intensely into Elijah’s deep-blue eyes, as though searching for something Elijah knew.

“I’ve never seen that either. What is that?”

Detective Scott sighed, but looked surprisingly relieved. “It goes right through to the inside.”

“It’s that powerful?” Elijah asked.

“Yes. We found these marks on your parents too. We think it’s what killed them.”

Elijah looked at the house in horror. What on earth happened? Detective Scott walked closer to Elijah and suddenly he started to feel his body pulse with heat. He wished Uncle Stan would come out.

“So you see now why we needed to talk?” Detective Scott was talking in a very soft, low voice. “The police have never seen anything like this. Can you imagine the commotion this would create if it were to get out? I think it’s best that until we figure this out, you keep it private.”

Just then, as Detective Scott began to lead him back into the house, Elijah caught a glimpse of something peeking over the edge of a bush just outside Kyria’s window. He was about to point it out, but something told him not to.

“Sir?” Elijah said. “May I have a moment alone please?” Detective Scott looked uneasy at Elijah’s request, but he gave his permission.

“Just make sure you don’t touch anything,” he directed. Elijah agreed, and the detective walked away.

When he was confident he couldn’t be seen, Elijah walked over to the tall bush and looked more closely at the object peeking over the top. It looked like a small book. Elijah swiftly shook the bush, and surprisingly, two objects came falling down. As soon as they hit the dirt, Elijah knew exactly what they were. They were Kyria’s diaries. Both books were small and brown, but one had a gold lock on it. Elijah distinctly remembered when Kyria started writing in the locked diary just six months ago. She was never a private person, but she was so secretive about her locked diary. So what were they doing out here? He knew that she always kept them safe inside her dresser drawer in her room. From where he stood, it looked like Kyria threw them out of her window. But why?

Not wanting to get caught with any evidence, Elijah crammed them in the back of his pants, under his belt. He hoped Detective Scott wouldn’t notice the books, so he pulled his shirt over his belt the best he could.

“How are you doing?” the detective asked when Elijah walked inside the house.

“I’m good. Thank you,” Elijah responded politely.

They met up with Uncle Stan and the other police officer. Everybody shook hands and left in a hurry. And that seemed to be that. Climbing back into the car, Elijah felt relieved that he and Uncle Stan were alone again. However, he was completely confused and needed answers. He wondered if it was okay to tell Uncle Stan about the burn marks on the house or the diaries tucked under his belt. Before he could say anything, Uncle Stan chimed in.

“Man, that guy seemed intense. You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Hey,” said Uncle Stan in a serious tone. “That other policeman just said that they don’t have any leads, but they think the murders were a random act of violence.” He briefly put his hand on Elijah’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I thought you should know.”

Elijah looked out the window and shook his head. Nothing about that night seemed random. The figure was definitely looking for something, or trying to make it
look
like he was looking for something. Then a thought came to Elijah that haunted him for the entire ride home. Did the figure find what he was looking for? And if not, would he come looking for Elijah?

****

CHAPTER 3: THE MYSTERY OF THE PHOTO ALBUM

“Can you spell that name for me, sweetie?” the librarian asked, looking puzzled.

“M-a-l-i-p-h-i-s-t” Elijah said, reading from a scrap of paper he had scribbled on.

The librarian, a short woman with long gray hair, typed the name into her computer as Elijah waited patiently.

For the first time in three weeks, Elijah had a moment to clear his head. Uncle Stan had been gone for long hours the past few days, and his absence gave Elijah a lot of time alone. He welcomed the solitude, but he needed something other than the horrific memory of his parents’ murder to occupy his mind. At first, Elijah thought about reading the old book he found with his parents’ stuff. He remembered placing it on the floor, but Uncle Stan had obviously moved it because it wasn’t anywhere to be found. Until he could ask his uncle where the book was, Elijah decided to investigate some of the words he remembered from the book.

“Sorry, hon. I’m not seeing anything on Maliphist here,” said the librarian.

“What about Tibirus?” asked Elijah, determined to get some answers. The librarian went to work.

“Here’s something,” she said. Elijah perked up. “We don’t have it here, but the other library across town has a book with an entry on Tibirus. It’s called
Historical Myths and Analysis
by J. J. McClintock. Would you like me to call and have it reserved for you?”

“Yes!” Elijah said enthusiastically. “Thank you so much!” Elijah had no idea why he was so excited because he didn’t have a clue what he was searching for. But lately, instead of getting answers, he felt like he was getting more and more questions. Maybe this small success, a simple entry in a book, could help him start to make sense of things.

“It’s reserved,” the librarian said, hanging up the phone.

“Thank you again,” Elijah called as he walked out the door.

By foot he wouldn’t be able to make it across town today. If he got up early in the morning, however, he was sure he could make it there and back before it got too late. It would be a long day of walking, but he didn’t mind. The journey would provide time alone to think, and he always found it peaceful to walk and think by himself.

When Elijah returned from the library, Uncle Stan was still not home. Elijah decided to kill time by exploring the only area of his uncle’s house he hadn’t yet explored: the basement. He wasn’t afraid of it, but he never considered the basement a very inviting place. There was a presence down there that always made his spine shudder. Elijah walked to the top of the stairs and stood, looking into the darkness below, trying to gather his courage to take a step. His curiosity ultimately trumped his fear, and he began to slowly descend. As the old, rickety stairs groaned and creaked with each step, Elijah wasn’t sure he wanted to spend any more time down here than necessary.

The moment he reached the bottom, he got the creeps. It was pitch black. In the middle of the ceiling hung a single light bulb with a string attached. He pulled the string and watched the light flicker a few times before turning on. Elijah shivered. He thought it would be better to find something interesting and bring it upstairs as quickly as he could. Willing himself to stay, he started scanning the area. It was a mess! Uncle Stan had lots of old car parts and tools lying around. He also had an old, dirty engine and engine parts piled in the corner. It was obviously a project left undone. On the floor, and in boxes, were hundreds of old newspapers in no particular order.

He looked further before he finally found something interesting. In the corner stood a rusty bookshelf containing old books and photo albums. Elijah carefully walked over to it and started reading the spines. From what he could tell, the books were old adventure and mystery novels that were twenty or thirty years old. Elijah wondered if they belonged to Uncle Stan when he was a kid.

He continued to survey the bookcase and came across something that caught his eye. It was a photo album that hadn’t been touched in ages. The cover, made of black leather, was tattered and abused-looking. Elijah’s first thought was that it may have held pictures from his father’s childhood. He had actually never seen pictures of his parents as children because his father and Uncle Stan were orphaned at a young age, and his mother had always said she lost contact with her parents. Since he never knew any grandparents, old family pictures were unheard of. Elijah grabbed the album and flew up the stairs. As soon as he reached the top, the telephone rang. It was Uncle Stan.

“Hey Sport! You stayin’ outta trouble?”

“Yeah. I just got back from the library.”

“Good man!” Uncle Stan sounded like he was tired even though he tried to be cheerful. “But don’t go wandering around. I promised your parents I’d take care of you, so don’t go doing things I wouldn’t do.”

“What does that leave?” joked Elijah.

Uncle Stan chuckled.

“Not much. Hey—I just wanted to call and let you know I won’t be home tonight.”

“Really? Why not?” Elijah tried to hide his disappointment.

“Just need to. No worries okay?”

“Sure,” Elijah said, unconvinced.

“Okay. You’ll need to take care of dinner yourself. When you get off the phone, head into my room. Open the second drawer and dig. It’s my underwear drawer, so try not to freak out on me.”

“Why exactly are you having me feel around through your underwear?”

“You’ll find something.”

“I’m sure of that.”

“Don’t get smart now,” said Uncle Stan. Elijah laughed at their playful banter. “In the drawer you’ll find a big hairbrush—looks like a ladies’ brush, but the back comes off. Open the back and you’ll find a bunch of money. Use it to order a pizza or something.”

“Oh.” Elijah laughed. All this trouble for food.

“Alrighty. Now you stay put until I come home, okay?”

Elijah wasn’t sure what to say to that. He still wanted to go to the library in the morning, but he didn’t want Uncle Stan to worry about him.

“Take care,” Elijah said. “See ya when you get back.”

Elijah hung up the phone and followed Uncle Stan’s instructions. Sure enough, a very large hairbrush was hidden in his uncle’s underwear drawer. He pulled on the back of the brush and out popped a roll of money. There had to be close to three or four hundred dollars there. He pulled out enough to pay for his pizza, stuffed the rest back into the brush, and returned it to the drawer.

After he called for pizza, Elijah sprawled out on the floor to continue his investigation of the photo album from the basement. The first two pages each had an old black and white picture of a baby. He immediately wondered who the babies were. The picture looked too old to be either of his parents. Looking at the old photographs, Elijah realized he had never questioned his roots. His parents were always open to talk with him about anything, but he had never taken the time to ask about his past. He had so many questions now. Where did his family come from? What were his grandparents like? He knew his dad and uncle were orphaned at a young age, but Elijah never bothered to ask what that was like. It seemed selfish that he never thought to ask, especially since he too was now an orphan. He decided it was time to make up for missed opportunities. As soon as Uncle Stan came home, Elijah planned to ask him all about his roots.

Elijah continued to turn the pages, trying to make sense of the photo album. Page after page was littered with black and white photographs, preserving memories of two people. None of the photos had labels, but as the pages turned, a simple story began to develop. The two babies from the first page grew up in front of Elijah’s eyes until, eventually, they were married. The album told a wordless story of their journey through life together. They were a handsome couple. The grown boy looked very strong and confident. The grown girl, also confident, was very pretty and reminded Elijah of Kyria with her dark hair and pleasant smile. He couldn’t help but think he had seen these people before. But who were they?

Elijah was about to look through the album again when something suddenly caught his eye. He could barely see it, but in the hand of the young lady, was an item Elijah recognized. He jumped up and frantically searched the house for a magnifying glass to get a closer look at the picture. Elijah searched in Uncle Stan’s bedroom, in the study, and then the kitchen. No luck. He almost gave up when he decided to check the front room. There, in the drawer of the coffee table, Elijah found a big, round magnifying glass. He ran back to the album and used the magnifying glass to look at the picture. He was now positive he saw what he thought. The young lady in the picture was holding the glass cube of dirt that Elijah had inherited.

Elijah wanted Uncle Stan to call back. He was dying to know what that glass cube was and who the people in the pictures were. Could they be his grandparents? Were they at least related to him? Elijah scampered up to find another book in the basement just as the doorbell rang. When he opened the door, he expected to see someone delivering his pizza, but instead he jolted back in surprise. Elijah felt his body warm up again as he looked up at an ominous Detective Scott.

“May I come in?” the detective asked in a low, menacing voice. Elijah turned around and looked behind him, knowing full well that he was alone. He wanted to say no, but before he knew it, he stepped aside to let the detective in.

“I’m headed out to meet with some friends soon,” Elijah lied in desperation.

“I won’t be long,” said Detective Scott, concentrating on something in the house. “Where’s your uncle?”

“He just went to get us some dinner,” Elijah lied again. As soon the words came out, he dreaded it. If the pizza delivery person showed up now, Detective Scott would know Elijah was lying. “What do you need?” Elijah tried to calm himself down as he felt an increasing sense of danger.