by Robyn Carr
“Do you know this kid?” he asked the victims. He ripped the stocking cap off the ninja’s head. The kids, a year or two younger, just shook their heads. “You know what it means when someone rips off your Halloween candy on a dark street?” Again they shook their heads. “It means it’s time to go home. It means the party is over. Want me to follow you home, make sure no more ninjas are waiting for you?” Still silent, they continued to shake their heads. “Then go,” he said. “Fast.”
They ran like greased lightning.
Seth dragged his ninja to his patrol car and stood him up against it. “Here’s what I need from you,” he said. “Your full name, your address, the name of your accomplice and his address.”
His culprit, a freckle-faced kid of about twelve, just a big kid, stared at Seth in sheer terror for a second. And then he lunged and made to run. Seth took a couple of long-legged steps and grabbed his collar again. “Sorry, pal. That’s not going to work. Do I need cuffs?”
The kid shook his head. Then he started to cry.
That’s better, Seth thought. “Your name?”
“Robert,” he said. “Bobby.”
“Last name?”
“Delaney,” he said. He sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve.
I’m cursed, Seth thought. He sighed. “Your parents home?”
“Just my mom.”
Crap, he thought. Just what I need. “All righty then, let’s go see your mom. I’ll need an address, if you please.”
“Aw, man...”
Seth put him in the passenger seat and told him not to touch anything if he wanted to keep that arm.
Charlie Adams had come on duty at five and was going to be in town, doing the same thing Seth had been doing until trick-or-treating was over for the evening. He called his cell rather than using the radio. “I’m going to be out for a few minutes, delivering a juvenile to his parents.”
“It’s not one of my juveniles, is it?” Charlie asked, in reference to his own teenagers.
“I haven’t had any problems with Adams teenagers tonight. This is a Delaney. I don’t think it’ll take him long to explain to his mother that he’s been assaulting little kids and stealing their candy.”
Bobby Delaney groaned and slid down in his seat.
“May the force be with you,” Charlie said.
Seth drove eight or ten blocks to the house. It wasn’t a very big house. Two-story with a porch. He’d heard it was Sue and her three kids plus Sue’s sister, brother-in-law and their two kids living there. Eight people would be a crowd in that space. The place looked pretty quiet. There was a light on in the living room but it was otherwise dark.
Bobby preceded him across the porch and opened the front door. He heard Sassy’s voice shout, “Who’s home?”
“Ma?” Bobby called.
Sassy walked into the living room from downstairs. She was all made up though she wore two fat curlers in her white-blond hair with the pink tips. She wore skintight black pants with high-heeled knee-high boots over them, a silky low-cut top that flattered her cleavage and a shiny vest. She frowned when she saw Bobby and Seth standing just inside the door. “Seth?” she asked.
“Tell your mother why I brought you home,” Seth said.
“I boosted some kid’s candy,” he said quietly.
She took another step closer. “You stole it?” she asked. “You stole some little kid’s candy?”
“He wasn’t that little,” Bobby said defensively.
“Two kids,” Seth said. “Both smaller than Bobby. He came on them from behind and then was going to run, but guess who was right there to chase him? The law.”
Sassy glared at her son. “Go to your room.” Then she looked at Seth. “What do I have to do now? Pay a fine? What?”
“How about you keep him in to think about consequences. You might want to make him apologize to his victims and their parents.”
“Fine. Whatever.”
Seth frowned. “You on your way out?”
“Maybe, I don’t know.”
“Can I just suggest, you should do something about this. Your son could’ve hurt those kids.”
“He’s a pain sometimes, but he wouldn’t hurt anyone,” she said.
“Wherever you were thinking of going, you weren’t thinking of driving there, were you?”
“Why? What’s this about?”
“About your breath, which is pretty high-octane right now.” He sniffed the air. “Wine, I guess. And a lot of it.”
“I’ve had one glass of wine! And I’m over twenty-one!”
“Is that your car in the drive?” he asked.
“Yeah, why?”
He shrugged. “Just wondering what to be on the lookout for. Listen, maybe you should get Bobby’s dad involved, make sure he gets the message that his little prank is actually against the law, not to mention it’s a real bad kind of bullying and stealing to ignore. You don’t want him getting the impression it’s okay. It’s not okay. If I hadn’t been there, I can’t guess what might’ve happened to those little kids. Plus, Bobby wasn’t alone—there was another kid with him who took off. I wouldn’t have brought him home to you if I didn’t take this seriously. You understand me?”
“I understand you still hold a grudge from high school,” she said, giving her hair a flick over her shoulder.
“Sorry? What?”
“You know what I’m talking about, Seth. We were going steady, we were first loves, broke up badly and it was probably my fault and you’re not over it. That explains the way you’ve been acting.”
He frowned. “How have I been acting?”
“Like you don’t care. Like you don’t dare take a chance on me now, even though we’re years older.”
He continued to frown and shook his head. “I think you’ve got the wrong impression, Sue. Now, about Bobby—”
“Bobby’s fine,” she snapped. “This is about you and me and you know it!”
“There is no you and me,” he said as patiently as he could.
“So you keep saying, but you never forget your first time....”
“I think you are drunk. No matter what, don’t drive tonight. And if you’re smart, you’ll call Bobby’s father and tell him the boy is in need of a strong moral influence.”
“Right,” she said. “Sure.”
“Sue, listen to me. Listen very carefully. There was a very brief time we dated when we were kids. It was a long time ago. You weren’t my first and I definitely wasn’t yours. And I haven’t thought about you once in seventeen years. I didn’t even know you married Robbie Delaney because no one mentioned it and I didn’t care enough to ask. There’s nothing. There won’t be anything. Not in this lifetime. Now let it go, drop it, and if you love your boy at all, concentrate on being a decent mother to him!”
Seth left the house, his boots striking the wood of the porch and steps loudly. He got into his car. Before pulling away from the curb, he called Charlie. “I’m done here,” he said. “How’s the town?”
“Quiet. The only residence party I saw seems to be breaking up early, most of them leaving on foot. Not many kids out anymore. I checked in on one noise complaint—just music and they apologized and turned down the volume. The Knudsons’ haunted house is still open but in the past twenty minutes there haven’t been any kids around there.”
“Business district?” Seth asked.
“Under control the last time I looked. A few adults and teenagers wrapping things up.”
Seth looked at his watch. It was after nine. “If you don’t need me, I’m going to get off the clock and get something to eat.”
“Sure thing, boss. I’ll give you a call if anything important comes up, but I think we’re good.”
Seth drove slowly down the street toward the p
izza place, now pretty busy with teenagers. He phoned from the car and ordered a large pizza and for the next fifteen minutes he just hung around in front, talking to people. Then he went in for his pizza and took it a few blocks up the hill to Iris’s. He wanted to see Iris to escape the nasty feeling Sassy had left on him.
Funny thing about Sassy. He’d thought she was his first until Iris had informed him about that night before the prom when he’d lost his virginity in a drunken stupor. Of course he’d known about Sassy’s reputation, he’d heard the talk. He hadn’t really cared that much whether she’d been with other boys before him. She’d made a lot of assertions about her virginity and he’d just let her. It’s not like he owned her. What happened before they’d started dating wasn’t his business. Besides, their relationship had been short and troubled.
He phoned the dispatcher and clocked out for the night. Then he called Iris from the car and when she answered he said, “I hope you’re up.”
“Sure. What’s going on?”
“I’ve been on duty since early this morning. I’ve taken pictures of a lot of little goblins and princesses and witches, plus I have a pizza in the car because I’m starving. I’m done for the night.”
“Well, bring that pizza in here!” she said.
Just the sound of that made him feel better. He couldn’t get in there fast enough. He pulled his squad car right into her drive and parked.
Eleven
Troy worked at Cooper’s bar on Halloween night. Cooper had been snagged by his wife to go to town to trick-or-treat at a few spots with their three-month-old daughter, who was dressed as a little duck and didn’t have a clue how they were exploiting her cuteness. Rawley had gone into town to help Carrie hand out treats at the deli and it wasn’t likely to be busy at the bar, not with the weather as cold as it was and all the real action in town.
He wasn’t particularly sentimental about Halloween, but he did have to admit the kids he saw were pretty hilarious. The doctor’s kids came out to the beach for a little show-and-tell before going house to house in town with Devon, the coach and their kids, Mercy and Austin. The little girls were, predictably, princesses. Austin was a zombie and five-year-old Will was with SEAL Team Six.
By seven o’clock Cooper was back and by seven-thirty the coach and his kids were done for the night. It wasn’t even nine when Troy had swept, mopped and put everything straight. He headed for town, looking for a little diversion. He’d chosen to walk to work since it was a dry night. Going back to town across the beach, he passed a pretty big bonfire and a bunch of high school kids bundled up and chasing each other around the sand. When they saw him there was a lot of shouting. “Hey, Troy, hey!” It made them feel so cool to call him by his first name when they weren’t at school and when he wasn’t with other teachers. He got a kick out of them. He did manage an adult move and told them to be careful around that fire.
Troy had a small two-bedroom apartment in town in a pretty ratty and cheap building—one bedroom to sleep in, one to store toys. Besides semi-decent furniture the only thing he’d done to improve his surroundings was reinforce all the locks—his toys and sports gear were valuable.
He walked past his street and up the hill toward Iris’s house. Parked in front of her house was the Sheriff’s Department SUV. That was pretty blatant. Usually Seth at least parked in his parents’ drive, though that was just about as close to Iris’s back door as her own drive. Even though they insisted theirs was merely an old friendship, Troy could pick up the vibes. He wasn’t convinced either Iris or Seth would admit it, but Troy could see what was happening. There was some kind of chemistry going on there that was more intense than friendship.
He turned around and walked back down the hill. He could head to Cliff’s or maybe even Waylan’s. He felt like having a beer. Maybe a little distraction. He should’ve thought it through before taking a job in a little town like this because as far as single women went, they were few. The chances of finding himself lucky on Friday were pretty slim. Of course, when there was snow on Mount Hood, he could head up there and after a day of skiing he would usually find someone to flirt with.
He’d met Iris soon after moving to Thunder Point and had congratulated himself on both good taste and wisdom—she was pretty, smart, funny and sexy. It didn’t take him long to ask her out. Figuring he could enjoy a long time with someone like Iris, he’d settled into the little town very happily. But it didn’t work out for them. Troy had been around the block a few times—it happened that way sometimes. He was disappointed, but he told himself that would pass.
He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do with himself. Waylan’s door was standing open and the tinny sounds of oldies from an antique jukebox drifted out. Waylan’s wasn’t a bad place but there was no conversation there. There were a few old boys who drifted in after work because the drinks were cheap, but night usually brought out a solitary and tight-lipped crowd who just wanted to drink in peace. He decided to see if the mini-mart was still open, grab a six pack and—
And then he saw the witch sweeping her sidewalk and pulling in her harvest decorations. “Hey,” he called out.
She turned toward him and cackled a little wildly, grinning broadly to show her blacked-out teeth.
He laughed at her. “I thought you were going to dress up this year?” he said.
“Funny. I put a hex on you. When you get up to pee in the morning you will be very surprised at how little your thing is.”
“You are evil.”
“You shouldn’t beat up on witches. We’re sensitive.”
“But are you thirsty, that’s the question.”
She leaned on her broom. “I don’t know. I’m pretty worn-out—I’ve been putting curses on people all night....”
“Is there a whole town full of little wangs?” he asked.
She grinned again. “Some people got big ones.”
“Wow! What do you have to do to get a big one?”
“Sometimes just be a bitchy girl. That’ll do it.”
“You are a bad, bad witch. You could get thrown out of the witch’s union. Come on, let’s get your stuff off the sidewalk and stop in at Waylan’s for a cold beer. No one will notice the costume in there.”
“I guess that’s supposed to be a plus,” she said. “Can you pull this stuff in while I brush my teeth? I need to be free of this black stuff. I’ll be right back.”
“Don’t change clothes, Dillon,” he said, using her last name. “Now that I think about it, I want to buy a drink for a witch tonight. It fits my mood just right.”
“I’ve never been in Waylan’s,” she said.
“It’s right across the street!” he said.
“It looks a little...seedy.”
“It’s completely seedy. And very forgettable. But the beer is cold. Hurry up.”
Troy did as he’d been told and pulled in the flowers, jack-o’-lantern and other decorations and took them back to the workroom. He looked around the shop and workroom appreciatively—Grace kept a nice little shop. It was very tidy and classy. There was a huge glass-fronted cooler that stretched the length of the back room and it was filled with flowers. On the other side of that room was an office space and small bathroom. The floors were shiny wood, the walls painted cheerful yellow and shelves were stuffed with supplies, all neatly arranged. Troy heard a stomping sound and the back door opened. Grace entered and locked the door behind her.
“Where were you?” he asked.
“Upstairs. The stairs are in the alley behind the shop.”
“What’s up there?” he asked.
“Me,” she said. “There’s a little space. Very little. Rose used it as storage. She even let other people rent cheap storage from her—like some of the other businesses. I cleaned it up, made a couple of minor improvements and I live up there.” When she smiled, her teeth gleamed
. He thought he might miss those black patches.
“Come on, witchy. Let’s get a drink across the street.”
The inside of the bar was dark and gloomy and smelled like years of spilled beer and stale smoke from back when people were still allowed to smoke in bars. That was the real reason Waylan always had the door propped open, unless the cold wind howled or sleet blasted the windows. The lights were dim and there were only three people at the bar, with a lot of space between them. There was one couple in a booth near the back of the place, sitting very close, nuzzling each other. Other than that couple, there were only men, all of them apparently alone. The place was a dump, really. But the bar itself was nice and the mirrored shelves behind the bar were pretty classy.
“Wow,” Grace said.
Troy pulled out a bar stool for her to occupy. Once she was on it and he was beside her, she leaned close to him and whispered, “My feet were sticking to the floor.”
He laughed. “Don’t let it worry you. We’ll get bottled beer.”
“Good idea,” she said.
He asked the unsmiling Waylan for two Heinekens in the bottle and some peanuts.
“I just swept,” Waylan said.
“Then bring an empty bowl and we’ll be careful with the shells, how’s that?”
“We’ll try it,” he said. “I don’t like my odds. Bet I have to sweep again.”
Two beers appeared quickly, a couple of square napkins slapped down beside them. Troy leaned an elbow on the bar, lifted his beer and grinned. “So. Come here often?”
Grace twirled some strands of her gray witch’s wig. “I think I have the same hairdresser as Waylan. Do you come here often? Because that could be a red flag.”
“There are three places to get a cold beer in town and I work at one of them. If you’re in the mood for a beer, you better be in the mood before eleven.”
“Want to know what’s odd about this place?” Grace asked. “No one is looking at me. I’m the only witch here, right?”
“You fit right in,” he said.
“I’m kind of hungry and I think Waylan forgot about the peanuts.”