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  Professor Noyoko shrank to her fox form, a red fox with a white spot on its back, gave a yip, and ran off, knocking down several pieces of the exhibit as she did so, which caused alarms to blare and shocked security guards to put aside their Sudoku.

  The kids hooted and hollered as if they couldn’t believe how lucky they were to see what they thought was a museum exhibit come to life, but Mrs. Butler fainted, landing in a puddle leaking from the nearby fountain.

  It was like living in the movie Night at the Museum but during the day and with less Ben Stiller, which was a shame because it would have been much more fun with Ben Stiller.

  There was nothing I could do for the teacher, but I could chase the kitsune. I didn’t know how Noyoko got a fox spirit inside of her, but I hoped the professor was still in there. I’d read about kitsune in some of my studies, but this was the first time I’d ever seen one.

  I was ready to follow but realized I couldn’t pursue the fox yet because Alice Pembro’s delicate mother, Alicia Pembro, had screamed at the sight of the fox spirit and yanked the children to her side like she was pulling them out of the way of an oncoming bus. The kids’ hooting turned into sobs as she pulled their arms out of their sockets.

  “What was that thing?” she asked, her voice trembling and high-pitched. “It is scaring the children, and poor Mrs. Butler has had a case of the vapors.”

  I giggled. “A case of the vapors? That’s funny! I haven’t heard that phrase ever said out loud. Good one, Alicia.”

  Alicia’s mouth hung wide and her cheeks flushed red, and I knew that I’d screwed up again. Alicia whispered something to Nathan’s mom, a woman who looked like she hadn’t eaten a good meal in her life but somehow managed to stay upright while wearing a king’s ransom in gold and diamonds. Her left hand was so jewel encrusted, I was surprised she could lift it in the air to fiddle with her equally impressive earring, but she did, regularly. Nathan’s mom, Collette—what a pretentious, snooty name—nodded sagely, looking at me the whole time with accusing eyes. I sighed.

  David, my fourth grader and wise beyond his years when it came to monsters and spooky things, pulled me aside. “Mom, what was that?”

  “A Japanese fox spirit. It’s called a kitsune, kit-soon-ay.”

  His eyes lit up. “Cool!”

  “Not cool. The fox spirit has taken over Professor Noyoko’s body.”

  He pushed his lower lip out. “Damn. I think being possessed by a fox spirit could be amazing. I mean, imagine all the things you could do as a fox.”

  “First, young man, watch your language! Ten pushups when we get home. And second, I don’t think Professor Noyoko is aware of what is happening, at least I hope not. What we must do now is get the rest of the kids together and pull Mrs. Butler off the floor. Can you help do that?”

  David’s look was sly. “Pull her?”

  I crossed my arms. “You know what I mean. Be gentle.”

  “Oooooookay.” David turned and called to a couple of his buddies, James and Jack, my best friend Angie’s twins, and the three boys knelt by Mrs. Butler and talked to her in slow, low voices.

  “I don’t know what happened!” Mrs. Butler said. “Bless you boys for helping me up.”

  Collette and Alicia rushed over to help her, too, even though they were not needed, but they still managed to throw me the stink eye. I perked up though. At least the kitsune showed. A creepy cryptid had come to visit. That, I could deal with.

  Chapter Three

  With Mrs. Butler alive and well, I felt comfortable leaving. I ran in between glass cases filled with priceless items and prayed I wouldn’t knock anything over, but I knew I had to move fast to follow the fox. I caught sight of Noyoko/kitsune, now in full fox form, scurrying into a room I wouldn’t have noticed under normal circumstances. Its door was propped open, but when the fox ran through, it slammed shut. I slid to a stop and listened to the fading chuckling of the fox spirit.

  I felt for the edges of the invisible door, as there was no obvious doorknob, and found a thin crack barely wide enough for my fingernails. Having no way to get enough leverage to open the door, I decided that I had to get in there the hard way.

  I backed up, steadied my breath, and ran directly at the door executing a perfect front snap kick, which struck the door on an angle as the door opened from the other side. I ricocheted backward, fell on my ass, and knocked over a statue, which knocked over a vase. The statue, a happy sitting Buddha, lost an ear, and the vase tumbled, hitting an innocent bystander on the hip, until crashing to the floor, shattering into porcelain splinters. The room fell silent, that awful silence when you know everyone is looking at you and it would be best if the floor opened and swallowed you. It took no more than ten seconds.

  What’s more, I fell on my tailbone and that hurt.

  The man who emerged from the door was a tall, thin, Japanese man with glasses wearing a suit, tie, and a name badge that read, “Dr. Katso Juro.” His face was pale, like he’d never seen the sun, and he had a skinny little mustache that looked like a millipede had set up residence on his face. The suit fit badly, his tie was stained, and when he got near me, he smelled of stale body odor, staler coffee, and something fishy. He towered over me as I climbed to my feet.

  “What’s wrong with you?” he demanded, his eyes buggy and his mouth opening and closing like he was sucking on something sour. “You’ve destroyed a priceless vase and cracked a flower garden Buddha, worth hundreds of thousands of dollars.”

  “I was chasing a fox.”

  Dr. Juro squinted at me, moving close so he could see my eyes. “Did you hit your head?”

  I pulled back to avoid the stench. “No, I don’t think so.”

  He pursed his lips and pointed a finger at me. “Drugs? Alcohol?”

  “No, I needed to get into that room, and there was no way to open it.”

  Dr. Juro crossed his arms. “Did it occur to you to knock?”

  It honestly hadn’t.

  My faced flushed, so I turned toward the damage and watched as the bystanders backed away in graceful ripples, giving me a wide berth. I grimaced at the statue laying on its side and picked it up, along with the ear, and murmured an apology. The statue winked, and a voice inside my head said, Exorcism. You must chase the spirits out.

  I peered at the statue. “Did you say that?” I asked out loud, not noticing the security guards being ushered into the room, along with an actual cop. I think the woman following them was a hostage negotiator.

  The voice didn’t return, but I knew it had spoken. I brought the statue closer to my face and studied it, murmuring, “I know you spoke. If you have other pieces of advice to give, now would be the best time. For example, you could explain why you said spirits, plural. There’s more than one?”

  Nothing. Silence.

  “Fine! Be evasive. You’re a Buddha, after all. Isn’t that sort of your shtick?”

  The hostage negotiator, or counselor, or whatever she was, spoke to me in a careful, kind voice. “Ma’am, my name is Dr. Patty Turillo. Please put the statue down and slowly step away. The officer here will help you and we’ll get this all straightened out.”

  It finally dawned on me that I might be in a wee bit of trouble, and I could have sworn the fox cackled again. I turned to the police officer, ready to somehow, someway, talk myself out of this.

  Instead, I sagged in relief, holding out my hand for a shake. “Officer Bob! How’s the car? I didn’t ever get inside it, so it should still be clean, right? I’m so glad you’re here. You can vouch for me. How’s Captain Morgan?”

  Officer Bob ignored my outstretched arm and dropped his face into both of his hands and mumbled something that sounded like, “Oh God, not again.” But, I could have heard wrong.

  The hostage negotiator peered at Officer Bob, her face so scrunched up I was afraid someone would hit her on the back and she’d stay that way. “You know this woman?”

  Officer Bob gave a grudging nod. “Do you remember the zoo incident a
few weeks back?”

  Her eyes widened. “The…the…gorilla…one?”

  “Yup!” I said. “That’s it. That’s the one. Messy. I admit I hadn’t ever seen a gorilla turn into a human before. That was a shocker. That reminds me. I have to visit and see how Rocko and the wolves are doing.”

  Dr. Turillo rubbed her temples and pulled Bob aside. Meanwhile, the security guards moved the other visitors out of the room. Officer Bob placed a call to someone, and the three had a convo of some kind while I waited, unconsciously rubbing the Buddha on his round belly. Juro was examining the porcelain shards, trying to put them back together. I could have told him there was no way that would work. My family has broken more water glasses than I could count. Plus, several wine glasses, beer bottles, picture frames and a pane from our front window. We are tough on glass.

  A low, comforting humming sound, like a cat’s purr, filled the air, and I looked around for its origin. I couldn’t see anything that would cause that sound, so I closed my eyes to hone in on it. I opened my eyes in shock when I realized the humming came from the Buddha. I held it out from me, like Hamlet with Yorick’s skull, and examined it from every angle. I shook it, turned it upside down, even looked for a key in the back, but even without any obvious way for it to make sound, the Buddha kept humming at a modulated pitch that I found quite soothing.

  I took a few moments while the three members of the authorities had their convo to move myself to a place of acceptance. The Buddha was humming to me, enjoying the tummy rub, and had told me we needed to do an exorcism to remove the fox spirit, or spirits. I didn’t quite follow that part. Take help where you can, Jess. Take help where you can, no matter how improbable the source. I’d recently popped the head off a zombie were-gorilla with a bat. A talking Buddha statue was nothing.

  The three judges came to a decision, but I could tell by Dr. Turillo’s posture that it was a two to one majority decision, not unanimous.

  “We’ve decided we are not going to arrest you,” Officer Bob announced, ignoring Dr. Turillo, whose face was a picture of disgust. “But Captain Morgan wants to know what is going on, and he said to tell the truth. He’ll believe you.”

  “I respect that man. So, here’s the situation. A lovely young woman, a professor, has been possessed by a kitsune, a Japanese fox spirit. This one has seven tails, which is good, because it means it is not at its full strength yet. If it had nine tails, that would be…”

  Juro spoke up. “…bad. Very bad. Are you saying Professor Noyoko is possessed?”

  I nodded.

  “That’s great!”

  Now it was my turn to scrunch my face in confusion.

  “No, I mean, it’s not great that she’s possessed, but she hasn’t, well, you know, wanted to go out with me, and maybe this is the reason why. We need to exorcise the kitsune right away.”

  I pretended to think about it while Officer Bob turned sideways and whistled and the negotiator stared, slack-jawed. I thought Patty Turillo was becoming more unhinged minute-by-minute. I didn’t have the heart to tell Juro that Professor Noyoko’s lack of interest might not be the result of the fox spirit and could be more about his personal hygiene.

  Buddha was silent on the subject.

  Breaking the silence and pushing us past that odd moment, Officer Bob took a deep breath and said, “Okay, I believe you. This isn’t any stranger than the were-gorilla. Is the kitsune any danger to museum visitors?”

  I cocked my head. “By danger you mean, like eating them?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Friedman, eating people is a good example of what I mean.” Officer Bob was gritting his teeth.

  “Snarky! I’m impressed.” I got serious for a moment. “Kitsune are troublemakers but not killers. If we can close the Asian antiquities area and neighboring exhibits, I think we’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll let the museum officials know, and I’ll stay here with you in case you need backup. Dr. Turillo, you can go now. Thanks for your help.”

  Patty Turillo was less than pleased at being dismissed, and it was obvious she thought we’d all lost our minds. She whispered something into Bob’s ear, and he shook his head. She tried again, but he held up his hand. “You weren’t there, Patty. You don’t know.”

  Dr. Turillo threw up her hands, pivoted on one heel, and stormed out. Bob followed, holding up a finger to indicate we should wait for him.

  “Officer?” I caught him before he walked out of hearing range. He turned.

  “My son is here on a field trip with his school. Can you tell them that I’m sorry I can’t finish the tour with them?”

  “Which school district?

  “Shaker Heights.”

  “You got it.”

  That left me with Juro, which wasn’t good because Juro and I immediately squared off into a spaghetti Western Mexican stand-off. “How could you not notice Professor Noyoko’s tails or changes in her personality?” I asked.

  “How come you know about kitsune?” he countered.

  “I’m an official Monster Hunter.”

  “No such thing.”

  “Yes, such thing. We’re sort of modern Templar Knights.”

  He snorted. “You’d think you’d be smarter.”

  I shot back. “You’d think you’d bathe.”

  Officer Bob returned, unaware of our hostilities. “So, how do we catch a fox?”

  “Well,” I said, “this fox spirit is quite the runaway. It might want to lead us on a chase, for the fun of it, or it may be doing it for another reason. It revealed itself to me in the ladies’ room, like it was taunting me, and I have no idea why. In lieu of knowing that answer, the other big question is, what do we do when we catch it? Remember, Dr. Noyoko is still in there somewhere. We don’t want to hurt her.”

  Juro blinked, and I thought his eyes changed from round to almond-shaped. I gave it a brief “huh,” and then my brain moved on when Juro said, “I know something about the exorcism ceremony, but I can’t recall all of the ingredients. I do have a text somewhere in my office that might tell us.” Juro made a weird blooping sound, sort of a burp and almost a hiccup. “I know we need a Buddha statue. The Buddha oversees the exorcism.”

  “We already have a Buddha, so we’re ahead of the game,” I said, holding up the statue, who sent me a wave of emotion, telling me he was delighted to be a part of the ceremony.

  “I can’t believe you broke him. We’ll have to reattach his ear. Hand him over, and the ear, too,” said Juro.

  “Or the fox gets it?” I rolled my eyes. “No. We need him, and I think he wants to be a part of the exorcism.”

  “You think it wants something? It’s a statue; it doesn’t want anything.”

  I should have left it there, but my mouth sometimes keeps going before my head can stop it. “No, this representation of Buddha is communicating with me, and he says he wants to be part of the action. Here,” I said, holding up the statue, “if you listen closely, he’s humming something. I think it is a mantra of some kind.”

  “A mantra.” His voice was flat.

  “Yes. Listen for yourself.” I held the statue up so he could listen to it like a seashell.

  Juro scoffed and released a bubble from his lips. I was about to ask if he was okay when he said, “You’re infuriating.”

  I gave him a slow up and down of my head. “You are not the first to notice.”

  “Arrogant.”

  “Maybe. Sometimes. Not really.”

  “Careless.”

  I toggled my hand back and forth.

  “Impious and sinful.”

  My anger was a harsh and exquisite thing, and it rose like a flame to a wick. The Buddha’s spirit flinched.

  I got in B.O.-coffee-fishy-smelling Dr. Juro’s face, and I knew that my mouth was curled in a snarl. “That, I am not. You may accuse me of many things, and I’m human, so I’m probably guilty of all of them. But impious? Sinful? Wicked? No. That you do not get to decide.”

  Officer Bob got in between us and did what po
lice officers are supposed to do, kept the peace. “Hey guys, let’s tone things down here, okay? Gotta save Professor Noyoko from the nine-tailed fox, right?”

  “Seven-tailed,” Juro and I said simultaneously. My jaw was clenched, and my arms were crossed over my chest. I felt the tension radiate from me, and worse, I realized that the Buddha’s spirit had withdrawn. I took a deep breath, counted to ten, let it out, and said a prayer for patience. I said this prayer often. I was aware of my faults, and impatience was at the top of list. I whispered another apology to the Buddha and gave his tummy a quick rub. He warmed in my hands and hummed a long ohm to help me calm down and focus.

  Forgiveness is a beautiful thing.

  I smiled, a genuine one because the Buddha’s spirit warmed me inside as well, and said, “Let’s start again. My name is Jess Friedman. I’m a Monster Hunter, which I know is unusual, but it’s true. The Catholic Church established a defense force to combat the things that go bump in the night. We’re an odd mix of folks, but in the end, our main goal is to rid the world of beasties before the beasties wreak havoc on the world.”

  Juro looked me up and down, fixating on the six-pointed star necklace I wore. “Aren’t you Jewish?”

  “We all bat for the same team.”

  The Buddha’s voice was solemn. That we do.

  Juro’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t carry a gun.”

  “I prefer hatchets and baseball bats, but I left mine at home today.”

  Juro said nothing, but did take a step back, glancing at Officer Bob to make sure he’d heard what I said.

  I continued. “Now that we’ve gotten over the pleasantries, Dr. Juro, can you take us into your secret lair, or whatever lies behind that door so we can learn about what items we need for the exorcism?”

  Juro led the way to the door and ushered us in. I was ready for voodoo dolls or other rare objects, so I was sadly disappointed.

  It was an office. A boring office with a four-drawer steel cabinet, two wooden desks, one with paper stuck under its front-right leg, and two rolling chairs that had seen better days. One of the desks was covered in papers, pens, and books. Two half-full cups of coffee balanced on the corners, and the Dr. Juro’s lunch bag was on top of the cabinet. Juro had a sweater hanging on the back of his chair. The other desk was immaculate and unused. There was a door on the other side of the room.