This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental. All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.
Copyright © 2016 Helen Conrad
Cover Copyright © 2016 DoorKnock Publishing
Cover images from Shutterstock.com
First Edition March, 2016
Mele’s Ghostly Halloween Caper
Destiny Bay Cozy Mysteries
By J.D. Winters
And
Sami’s Story
By J.D. Winters and Dakota Kahn
Table of Contents
Title Page
Mele’s Ghostly Halloween Story
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Sami's Story
Mele and the Calendar
A Sami-Eyed View of How Things Are
Chapter 1 - Sami Accused!
Chapter 2 - The Chase of Sami
Chapter 3 - The Other Black Cat
Chapter 4 - Sami Gets to the Bottom of Things
Chapter 5 - Sami For the Win
Mele's Conclusion
My Mailing List!
Also in the Cozy Mystery Series
Also in the Destiny Bay series
ABOUT AUTHOR
Chapter One
“Nevermore, nevermore!” quoth the large mechanical raven standing guard in the doorway. “Nevermore!”
I couldn’t resist. I had to talk back to the bird. That senior term of American Lit could not be denied.
“’Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary’,” I began.
“No!” both my best friend Jill and my Aunt Bebe groused at me sharply. Elbows were coming out.
“Cultural reprobates,” I sniffed at them. Actually, they needn’t have bothered. That was pretty much all I could remember anyway. Although the temptation to begin spouting about the Night’s Plutonian Shore was strong. But I managed to resist.
“Nevermore!” croaked the mechanical bird, flapping its long black wings and impressively taking up a lot of room on the wide entry patio, along with the carved orange pumpkins and flickering candles.
“Don’t worry,” I told him. “I can tell when my literary efforts are not appreciated.”
“Ring the bell,” Jill grumbled. “It’s cold out here.”
Halloween—not my favorite holiday, but somehow you couldn’t help but get caught up in the fun of dressing like someone or something you would never really be.
“You wouldn’t be cold if you two weren’t wearing harem girl belly dancer outfits,” Bebe pointed out with a superior smile.
I turned and looked at her in her tiger suit. She looked annoyingly snug—not to mention cute and slinky—as a tiger, with her dark brown eyes and cute little nose. I sighed, wishing I’d ended up with a costume like hers.
“That’s what we get for letting Jagger pick out our costumes from the rack at the junior college drama department.” I gave Jill a significant look. “Next time, we keep better tabs on what’s going on.”
We were quite a pair, me with my dark hair and café au lait coloring, Jill with her silky blond hair and bright blue eyes, and both in see-through, belly dancer garb. We looked like rejects from a Turkish restaurant and we were both exposing a lot of skin—a lot more than either one of us was used to. So much, in fact, that we had no place to tuck our cell phones and we had to give them to Bebe to hold for us. To make up for that, we’d grabbed a pair of cloaks to keep the chill away, but they kept slipping off. I’d tried to fasten mine with a big ruby broach at the collar, but it wouldn’t latch right and now that was sliding off, too.
Even more unfortunately, the cloaks were made of very scratchy wool. The whole drive over here to the Halloween party at Carlton Hart’s seaside mansion had been nothing but whining and moaning over these awful costumes we were wearing.
“Get the door bell!” Jill said urgently.
I reached out to do just that, little silver belly-dancing bells ringing from every limb and digit. I felt like a whole tribe of tambourine players was following my every move.
Jill had the same complaint, only in even tinklier tones. We were both adamant—next time we would choose our own costumes.
One of the heavy double doors swung open and a butler in tails stood there grinning at us. Then I noticed the fangs. Okay—a vampire butler in tails.
“Ah, the harem girls have arrived,” he cracked, laughing at his own joke. His hair was slicked back and his bearing classically correct, but there was something uncannily smarmy about the twist of his mouth and the look in his eyes. Too familiar by half.
We scowled at him.
“Watch out or we’ll sic our pet tiger on you,” I said as he took our cloaks and handed them to a young woman in a maid’s uniform, who took them off to the coatroom.
“Hmm, I’d better get myself a lion tamer’s whip, hadn’t I?” he said with a lascivious grin as he looked us over. “Be prepared. That’s my motto.”
“Cheeky guy for a butler,” I muttered to Jill as he escorted us toward the ballroom where the party was in full swing.
She glanced at him. “He wasn’t around last time we were here, was he?”
“Nope. Maybe he’s a new addition.”
He turned as we came to the top of the stairs that led down into the ballroom. “Your names, please? I’ll announce you.”
“Do you have to?” I asked, looking around a bit nervously. “Can’t we just slip into the scrum?”
He looked shocked by the suggestion. “Are you kidding? What do you think I’m here for, my health?”
We shrugged and told him our names and he played a couple of warning notes on a small instrument, like a tuning pipe, he had with him, then called out in an impressively booming voice, “Mrs. Bebe Miyake, Miss Jill DeJong, and Miss Mele Keahi.”
Then he bowed us to the stairs, and we went down into the crowd, all nearby faces turning up toward us.
“Wow,” Jill said, poking me with her elbow. “Classy, huh?”
That made me laugh. “I guess you could call it that,” I said.
The room was crowded with costumed and masked characters. Black-hatted witches were everywhere—along with more vampires and devils. Other than that, Little Bo Peeps seemed to predominate, with fluffed out skirts and little stuffed sheep bouncing along behind them.
“How do they do that?” I whispered to Jill.
She shrugged. “Tape and wires, I’m sure,” she said, patting one little lamb on the head as it bobbed past us.
The place swirled with color and noise. It was exciting to see so many characters--Superman and Zorro, mechanical robots, balloon people and women as Spanish dancers and Egyptian royalty. Jill started singing “Walk Like An Egyptian” in my ear, making me laugh.
“Maybe that should be our theme song,” she noted. “We could sing it while we practice our moves.”
She lifted her arms and did something cute with her stomach, pretending she knew what belly-danci
ng moves were all about. I groaned and headed for the refreshment table. There was green sherbet punch with orange ice cubes, along with stuffed mushrooms full of some spice that looked like thorns, tiny quiches sporting little black bats on toothpicks, and freshly peeled shrimp around a big bowl of cocktail sauce, made to look like a bowl of blood. I took a sample of each and they were as good as they looked.
“I can’t,” Jill moaned, shaking her head. “If I eat my stomach will pooch out.”
“Exactly what stomachs are made to do,” I reminded her stubbornly. “If I look fat, I look fat. Who cares, anyway?”
She made a face at me and began to move to the music. Bebe was scanning the crowd.
They’d hired a live band and it was actually pretty good, though the music they were playing seemed to be a combo of Monster Mash and Disco Fever. There was even a mirror ball spinning above us all.
Bebe found Captain Stone, her current flame, right away and deserted us. Then Jill got asked to dance by someone she knew—and she knew just about everyone, seeing as how her coffee shop, Mad for Mocha is a very popular place.
And suddenly, I was alone. Alone and feeling half naked in this stupid getup showing off a lot of belly and some pretty outrageous cleavage. Not to mention tassles and bells. Alone and lonely....and ridiculous.
I sighed, realizing this was a position I was used to at parties. Here it came: the stiff smile, pretending I was perfectly happy to be standing there on my own. Looking around as though I was waiting for someone. Avoiding the glances coming my way. Feeling as though my smile was frozen on and would never leave me. The awkwardness. The temptation to glance at my watch.
The butler came by and did a double take.
“Hey, it’s you,” he said.
“It always is, isn’t it?” I responded.
He moved in a little too close. I felt somewhat intimidated by his shiny vampire teeth.
“My name’s Reggie,” he said with a leer. Then he looked down at my costume. “You know what you need for that cute little belly button? A nice big diamond stud.” He gave me a lascivious wink and for a second I thought he was going to touch where he thought it should go. “Someone like me.”
I pushed him back. “Sorry, this navel is spoken for,” I said, wishing it were more than just a little bit true. “Better luck in some other direction.”
He started to say something else, but a lady in a plunging neckline vampire gown and overdone makeup swept in and took him away. I breathed a sigh of relief. Still, there I was, alone again.
I took a moment to study the architecture of this side of the house. I’d only been on the other side, overlooking the ocean. But this was different and interesting: four floors of rooms all along the outside edge, leaving a semi-atrium style area in the middle of the section with a clear view down from every floor. A perfect party site.
I gazed around and went back into my vacant smile mode. And then a familiar face came out of the sea of strangers.
“Ah, Mele, I’m so glad I caught you.”
It was Debbie Hart, daughter of the wealthy man giving this party.
She grabbed both of my hands after giving my costume a wide-eyed look of surprise. I guess she wasn’t used to belly dancers in full regalia.
“I was hoping you’d come.”
Actually, she was the one who had invited me. She’d been cagy on the phone but I had definitely got the impression she wanted some sleuthing done. And since Bebe and Jill were already invited, I was glad to join the happy crew.
Debbie was dressed as Bat Girl, as far as I could tell, her beautiful red hair pulled back behind the mask. I stammered out a greeting, keenly aware of what I looked like and silently cursing Jill’s boyfriend for his complete lack of taste in costume selection.
“Listen,” Debbie said, leaning close conspiratorially. “I need help. I’d like to hire you to do some investigating for me.”
“Hire me?”
Actually hire me? Like, with money and all? That was a new one. Why would anyone want to hire me? I knew she wanted some help, but this sounded serious.
“Yes, Mele. I know about the good work you did on our problems a while ago, and I’ve heard you’ve done a lot to find the guilty party in other crimes around town. So I have a new problem and I’m hoping you can help to solve it.”
I blanched. “No one’s been murdered, I hope.”
“Oh no. Nothing like that. It’s just that…” She looked around as though afraid of being overheard, then pulled me toward the sidelines. “Look up on the dais,” she whispered, standing close. “Do you see my father up there?”
I looked. Sure enough, there was Carlton, handsome as ever with his abundant head of silver-gray hair, sitting on a throne like King Neptune with a trident in his hand.
“I do.”
“And do you see the woman on the throne beside him?”
The first thought I had was “Cleopatra”, but Debbie whispered, “Amphritrite,” in my ear. “Queen of the Seas.”
“Ah,” I said, not sure what she wanted from me. The woman looked beautiful but brittle, with long black hair and a white complexion that set off her scarlet lipstick like a fresh wound.
“My father’s latest love,” she explained with a touch of acid. “He won’t hear anything said against her.”
I nodded. “That’s the way it often is with fathers,” I noted, not sure what else to say. After all, I didn’t exactly have the best relationship with my own father.
“She’s such a witch. I’ve been going over renovation plans with my father for weeks, and all of a sudden, she’s intruding with her own ideas on how things should be done. I’m the one with an interior design background, and suddenly my father is asking her for advice.”
You could see that this really outraged her, and I couldn’t say I blamed her.
“But there’s more,” Deb went on conspiratorially. “You see, she’s all lovey-dovey over my father, but she’s not what she seems.”
“No?”
“No.” She gave me a significant look. “Things are going missing. My father is blaming my fiancé, Wayne. For which there is absolutely no evidence. And anyway, I’m sure it’s her.” She nodded toward the lady in question. “His latest obsession. Marilyn Greer.”
“I see.”
“Do you?” She stared at me as though trying to read the messages behind my eyes. “Do you really? Because that’s what I want you to do. Really see. Is she the guilty one?”
“Uh….what about your fiancé? What’s the case against him?”
She drew back and for a second or two, I thought she was offended by my question. “Nothing, really. Just that Daddy doesn’t like him.”
I was about to say, “I see” again, but stopped myself in time. Debbie grabbed my hand.
“Come on. We’ll go up so you can say ‘hi’ to Daddy, and then you can see for yourself what a self-centered witch she is.”
We climbed the ramp up to the dais where the two sea gods were lounging on their thrones and looking silly. But that was okay. Halloween was made for looking silly. It came with the territory. All I had to do was to look at myself in the mirror to know that.
Carlton jumped up and gave me a hug, which I’ve got to admit, warmed my heart. We’d had our ups and downs in the past, but that was all forgotten now. Then I turned to meet the lovely Marilyn.
She didn’t get up. She didn’t even sit straight. She just extended her hand and smiled, her red painted lips making a perfect bow.
“So nice to meet you,” I said, wondering if she expected me to kiss her fingers.
“Likewise, I’m sure,” she said in a bad imitation of a Marilyn Monroe role.
I blinked, startled to hear the babyish tone of her voice. But somehow it suited her.
“We met at a country club dance,” Carlton told me, looking smug. “The moment our eyes met, it was fate. Kismet. We couldn’t resist our destiny.”
“How wonderful,” I lied.
I knew that Debbi
e wanted me to somehow find evidence that would cast doubt on Marilyn and her ethics, but she came across too languid and flaccid to have the energy to commit crimes. Still, looks could be deceiving. And from the looks of things, Carlton was completely entranced.
Debbie—not so much.
“Freshen this up for me, would you sugar?” Marilyn was saying to her. “It’s gone flat. I need those sparkles in my life. Otherwise I’ll just fall asleep and your Daddy won’t have any fun tonight.”
Okay, now I hated her too. The look on Debbie’s face said it all and I had to think between the two of us we could find something to convict this awful woman of. I glanced at her jewelry while Debbie went to get her a new drink. It looked like the real thing to me. Still, what did I know? Just because she might be wearing diamonds and pearls didn’t mean she hadn’t stolen those, too. We would have to see.
We chatted for another moment or two, but we really didn’t have much to say to each other, and I left with Debbie as soon as I could.
“You’re right,” I whispered to her as we made our way back down into the party. “That woman needs something else in her life.”
“Yeah, like a five year prison term,” Debbie whispered back.
I couldn’t disagree. “Go Batgirl,” I said. “Go for all the justice you can find.”
“Don’t worry,” she said a bit grimly. “When I get the bit in my teeth, I can make things happen.”
There was something almost scary about her tone, but there wasn’t time to discuss it. All of a sudden, Batman came out of the crowd and joined us.
Chapter Two
“Here he is,” Debbie said warmly, throwing her arms around his neck. “Hello darling. I want you to meet Mele Keahi. She’s going to exonerate you. Say hello.”
“Hello.”
Batman had a friendly smile and he used it on me. “I’m not the guilty one. Honest,” he said, eyes behind the mask as innocent as the new fallen snow. “You can ask anyone.”
Mele's Ghostly Halloween Caper: Plus Sami's Story by J.D. Winters and Dakota Kahn (Destiny Bay Cozies Mysteries Book 6) Page 1