Macy cinches her purse over her shoulder. “We’ll catch you later, Bizzy. We’re going to stuff our faces before we puke it all up on the hayride. Try not to end up dead. It’s going to be murder rounding up the dogs in this crowd, and I’m sort of growing attached to the little one.”
I wrinkle my nose at my cheeky sister. “I’ll do my best to keep breathing. Keep your phones on just in case.”
They take off running—literally.
Apparently, you’re never too old to race to the candy apple stand. But, in their defense, they are gourmet candy apples and I’m eyeing them myself.
Sherlock leads the way to the bounce house, both agitated and excited to see what all the screaming is about.
“No biting, no barking,” I sing. “Remember, they’re just little boys. They like to play as much as you do.”
Peanut wags his tail and tongue. I hope they’re just as big as Fish. I like to catch her between my paws.
“I’m guessing they’re a little bit bigger than that.”
I stop cold as I spot a group of mothers gathered just shy of the bounce house, and I recognize the blonde with a pixie cut from the pictures of Luke and his bride on the internet. Her face is set in a scowl as she listens to the other women in her circle.
A child slips out of the giant cat’s maw, and two of the mothers run in that direction.
Now it’s just Sarah and a younger girl who looks bored silly sitting next to her.
I make my way over.
“Hey,” I say as I point to the bale of hay to the left of them. “Mind if I take a seat?”
The younger girl stands. “Go right ahead. I was just about to get something to eat.” Like six of those candy apples. If I see another one go by, I’m liable to pluck it right out of a stranger’s hand. “You want anything, Sarah?”
“No”—the blonde smiles up at her—“but I’ll watch the girls for you.”
Oh, thank God. The girl gives a friendly wave. A minute without the kids. I think I’ll buy myself a bouquet of churros to celebrate.
Perfect.
I take a seat right next to Sarah, and Sherlock pops up next to me, demanding her attention.
I like this one, Bizzy. Sherlock whimpers and pants while blinking those large brown eyes at her.
Peanut wiggles his way into the mix and wags his stubby little tail back and forth until the two of us share a laugh.
Sarah’s whole face brightens at the sight of the friendly dogs I’ve schlepped along for the ride.
“Well, aren’t the two of you handsome.” She gives both Sherlock and Peanut a quick pat on the head. “Are they boys? I just assume everything is a male these days. I have twin boys, so my world is pretty blue.” She laughs and I can’t help but note how pretty and sweet she seems. There’s an air of innocence about her that some people just seem to exude and she’s definitely one of them.
“That they are. This is Sherlock and that’s Peanut. They’re friendly, too. So I’m sure they wouldn’t mind your boys one bit.”
“Good thing.” She gives a wistful shake of the head. “As soon as my boys spot them, these puppies are pretty much doomed.”
“My husband loves dogs, too,” I say, lying through my teeth about having one of those matrimonially bound creatures. For a brief moment, I envision myself walking down the aisle of Cider Cove Covenant Church and seeing Jasper looking lethally handsome in a three-piece suit. Every last bit of me demands that my imagination races ahead to the wedding night, but I’m quick to shake all thoughts of the dapper detective out of my head. “How about your husband?”
“My husband?” She blinks back as if the idea of having a husband were a joke—and it just might be to her.
Before she can answer, a couple of little blond boys bound over, screaming as they tackle both Sherlock and Peanut to the ground.
Bizzy! Sherlock sounds as if he’s laughing, and he certainly looks as if he’s having a good time while rolling on his back.
Peanut howls and pants and he spins in a circle, chasing his tail while one of the boys does his best to catch him.
“What was I saying?” Sarah shakes her head as a laugh bubbles from her. “Oh, my husband.” Her expression grows flat as she glowers into the crowd. “Not everyone hits the lottery with one of those. I guess it’s sort of hit-and-miss.” She shrugs as she looks to her happy little sons. “But Luke does try.” A shiver runs up my spine once she says his name. “He’s working two jobs, so we hardly ever see each other. Sometimes I wonder if he’s got a whole other life going on. His work has him traveling, so we don’t get to spend every night together. And, of course, he works late weekends, too. I made a joke the other day that I would have to introduce him to the boys at some point,” she huffs. “It would be funny if it weren’t true. But then again, nobody said having twins was easy. We weren’t exactly rolling in money when we found out. I try to buy secondhand whenever I can, but kids are so expensive regardless. I was waitressing when I met Luke, but the cost of childcare is so much it didn’t make sense for me to leave them once they were born.”
“Kids do seem like a huge responsibility. I can hardly keep up with my pets, so I can imagine how much more challenging a person—two of them—would be.”
“Oh, pets are a cakewalk compared to kids. Are you and your husband trying yet?”
“Trying what?” I blink over at her, completely oblivious until it hits me like a baby bottle right between the eyes. And then for the briefest of moments, I envision Jasper holding a tiny swaddled bundle in his arms, and I’m right back to swooning for that man. I bet Jasper will make a wonderful father.
Sarah belts out a hearty laugh. “Trying for kids. But I guess you’re not there yet. Some of the girls I know get really into it. It’s sort of fun—watching your cycle, stealing your husband away for baby time. But you better watch out. You could always end up like me. Twins.” She grimaces as she says it. “My father likes to joke we were trying too hard.”
My heart breaks just hearing her talk about her family. If her father knew what Luke was doing behind her back, I’m sure he’d try to kill him.
“My husband is a lot like yours,” I say. “A real worker bee. Sometimes my mind wanders and I start to think he really is living a double life. I mean, I would never know it. He’s always out—some nights he just doesn’t come home. It makes me wonder what he’s capable of. What kinds of dark things he might be doing.” A rumble of thunder goes off up above, and it’s as if all life at the Haunted Harvest Festival stops for a moment.
Sarah shudders as she stares vacantly into the crowd.
“Luke has a dark side.” The muscles in her jaw redefine themselves as if she were angry about it. “He’s shown it to me before. It’s part of the reason I don’t complain too much about him not being home. I don’t want the boys to see it.”
A chill runs through me. Sarah seems convinced Luke has a dark side. Luke certainly had a secret—and I bet he was hiding it from both Shelby and Sarah.
A thought comes to me. Chelsea mentioned that Luke had done something very bad and Shelby just found out about it that night. And Luke mentioned that Sarah had contacted Shelby in the middle of the seminar. Shelby was very angry with him. Anyone could see that. Luke knew his cushy ride at Harris Financial would be over.
Luke had a very big motive to kill poor Shelby.
I look down at the squealing boys as they wrestle with Sherlock and Peanut.
Luke had two very big motives to keep Shelby quiet.
A couple of mothers head this way with their kids in tow and Sarah wrangles her boys together.
“It was nice meeting you,” she says. “You know, I actually feel a lot better after talking to you. It’s weird, isn’t it? Sometimes you need to say things out loud to know what direction you’re going to take next in life.” She leans in my way. “Let’s just say, my husband and I are about to have a very big talk. Good luck with yours.”
She takes off, and I look out at the crowd as the skie
s grow ever darker. The air grows with a crisp fall snap to it and demands that I cinch my coat.
I have a feeling Luke Parker—Abernathy—wanted to make sure Shelby didn’t stand in his way. He had a very big secret to keep from his wife. And he might have made sure that Shelby would keep it forever.
I need another chance to speak with Luke. I think I’d better make sure Luke knows he’s invited to Ginger’s Halloween Monster Mash.
And unfortunately, I have a feeling there really will be a very real monster in our midst.
Chapter 17
Halloween is officially on Tuesday, but this Saturday night at the Country Cottage Inn we’re determined to give that haunted evening a wicked run for its money—or candy as it were.
“Jordy, this place looks amazing!” I pull him in by the arm and give him a squeeze. I’m dressed as a fairy in an ultra-short lime green dress and tiny glittery wings strapped to my back. I’ll admit, I look less preschool and more reform school with a naughty flair, but I couldn’t resist. It’s adorable.
We’re standing just outside of the ballroom where the courtyard and the woods that lie just beyond that are decorated to the hilt with what seems like hundreds of glowing pumpkins. Each one of them wears a unique face, some cute, some scary, and some of the happy orange globes simply have holes bore into them. But each and every one looks absolutely magical.
“Jordy, it’s breathtaking.”
“Thanks. Check that out.” He nods to the woods where the trees are lit up with enough lavender twinkle lights to give the entire Western Hemisphere a haunted appeal. “We put cobwebs between the trees to keep the crowd from getting too far into the woods.”
“Webbed fencing. Now there’s something original.”
“The woods look friendly enough, but we both know you can get disoriented in minutes and end up miles in the wrong direction trying to find your way out.”
“I agree. It’s a haunted maze without even trying.” An odd sight catches my eye—a large pot brimming with pumpkins. “Why is that planter sitting right in the middle of the walkway?”
Jordy winces. He’s dressed as a football player—wearing his high school jersey and sweats. He’s even donned a swath of black grease under each eye in an effort to go the extra mile.
“That’s where the body was,” he whispers. “It sort of felt sacred. I didn’t want anyone trampling that area.”
“Jordy, that’s so kind. Thank you for being so thoughtful. I’ll admit, it is a little heartbreaking being out here.” An icy breeze whistles by. “I’m really impressed by you tonight. And I have to say, I’m impressed by something else. You’re usually the last person to dress up for a Halloween party. I’m glad to see you getting into the haunted spirit of things.”
“Thanks, Biz. I’m hoping to impress someone else tonight, too.” He glances to the glowing entry to our right as a crowd of bodies begins to circulate inside. I bet she’s in there. She probably won’t remember me. And who the heck cares? He takes a deep breath. I guess I do.
“Jordy.” I tug him back by the wrist. “Whoever this girl is, she must be pretty special to have grabbed your attention. Take it from your ex-wife, you deserve someone special.”
We share a warm laugh before heading on in.
The grand ballroom at the Country Cottage Inn has been transformed into a bona fide haunted house with its orange twinkle lights, glowing pumpkins dotting the refreshments tables with their toothless smiles, and chandeliers laden with spider webs that drip down and blow about like poltergeists with the slightest breeze. There’s a DJ playing a rather spooktacular playlist, and the masses that have already poured into the room are all dressed up in every costume known to man.
The women all look as if they’re some racy version of a nurse, a princess, or a witch. And the men run the gamut from vampires to lumberjacks. I give a quick look around the vicinity for Ginger King. Her book signing table is set up in the back, but she’s yet to arrive. And in truth, she’s only about ten minutes late. I’d better head to the front desk and let Grady know to lead her straight to the ballroom when she arrives.
I thread my way through the room just as Emmie heads this way balancing a couple of platters brimming with her pumpkin spice mini muffins. She’s dressed as a flapper in a short black dress with elongated fringes that bounce to life with her every step. She’s donned a long pearl necklace that loops tightly around her neck just once and the rest of it dangles to her belly. There’s a feathered headband strapped to her head that sparkles and catches the light and gives her an overall enchanted feel.
“I’ll get these to the dessert table,” she calls out as we pass one another. “You make an adorable Tink!”
“Says the sexy flapper! You can teach me to do the Charleston in an hour.”
I speed to the foyer where the noise level is dampened, but the excitement is just as high. Last night, Grady and I stayed late, stretching spider webs all over the reception counter and adding even more pumpkins and ghosts to the mix.
Sherlock and Peanut are seated right up front, looking beyond adorable in their costumes. Sherlock is dressed as a giant goldfish—a sight that Fish has not stopped laughing at. And I bought Peanut a penguin costume that actually makes him look as if he’s a standing upright and waddling when you look at him from the front. They’re both so hilarious people haven’t stopped snapping pictures of them all day.
Sherlock bounds my way. Bizzy, next year I’d like to be a superhero. The kind Jasper watches on TV.
I can’t help but laugh. “I think you’re already a superhero, Sherlock.”
Grady does a double take this way. He’s dressed as Spiderman sans the face mask and he looks adorable as if he’s in his pj’s. “Have I ever told you I think it’s cute the way you talk to the animals as if they can understand you?”
“I can’t help it. A part of me really does believe they can.”
Peanut barks as if acknowledging this. I like my costume, Bizzy. It makes people smile. Georgie laughed so hard she said she needed to wear a diaper around me.
I grimace at the thought. “Georgie is one step away from wearing one all the time.”
Fish hops up onto the granite counter and lets out a yodeling meow. Bizzy Baker, you get this ridiculous hat off of me, right this minute.
I bite down hard on my lower lip to keep from laughing.
“Fish, you make the cutest pirate on the face of the planet,” I say, adjusting the miniature black pirate’s hat I’ve strapped to her head. She’s wearing a costume that drapes down the front and secures to her front paws, a red and white striped shirt attached to a pair of stuffed jeans. There’s a pair of stuffed arms poking out of the shirt portion, and in one hand she’s holding a tiny sword as if she were readying to attack. It’s so comical to look at her. Everyone who has seen her has done a double take before bursting out with laughter.
I’m only wearing this for you, Bizzy, Fish growls. Just remember, you promised an extra helping of my Fancy Beast dinner.
“And I plan on rewarding all three of you for being such good sports,” I say just as an all too familiar witch and scarecrow head this way.
“Dad?” My eyes enlarge at the sight of his hand caressing Gwyneth’s back.
She’s wearing a loose black dress with a large pointy hat planted over her head and a sparkly wand in her hand.
Why do I get the feeling this is a familiar uniform for her that she’s worn before on a far less celebrated occasion—say, a full moon in the presence of her coven?
Dad, however, looks as if he went hog wild at the Montgomerys’ pumpkin patch and stuffed his jeans and flannel with hay. He’s donned a ratty old wicker hat and painted his nose a cheery shade of orange.
“Bizzy Bizzy.” He gives Sherlock a quick scratch. “This is one good-looking crew. We’ll catch you inside.”
Gwyneth sneers at me as she leads the way and, just like that, they’re off.
“That might be the scariest thing I see all night,” I say
to Grady just as Macy trots over in a pair of sky-high heels, her hair done in tight kinky curls, and she’s wearing a low-cut, tight-fitted red dress. “Well, if it isn’t the devil herself,” I tease.
“Oh, hush.” Macy pauses a moment to adjust her burgeoning décolleté. “I’m not wearing a costume.”
“I didn’t say you were.”
She offers a wry smile before leaning in. “I’d gift you a special finger, but there’s a gentleman in our midst.” She nods his way. “Hello, Grady. I’ll see you both inside. Ta-ta for now.” She scampers off, and Grady gives a dark gurgle of a laugh.
“Macy is gunning for one of those rich men, isn’t she?”
“I don’t know what she’s gunning for,” I say. “And my guess is, neither does she.”
Chelsea Ashley steps in with a rather dapper looking man by her side, and my stomach sinks a moment at the sight of them.
“Chelsea”—I say, trying my best to sound bright and cheery—“and Carter O’Riley.”
Chelsea is dressed as a vamped-up Little Red Riding Hood, and Carter has a light smattering of face makeup on that gives him the appearance of a furry yet comely wolf.
She’s staring at us. Chelsea frowns for a moment. I knew we’d be judged for it. But Shelby is gone. That means all girl code is off the table and it’s open season on Carter. Besides, someone has to help him get over poor Shelby. Not that he ever will. And not that I ever will—but that’s the one commonality we’ll have. How much we loved her.
I head over and offer a friendly smile. “The two of you look spectacular!”
“Really?” Chelsea’s face fills with relief.
“Yes, really. I wish I would have thought of that. I don’t even know what my own boyfriend will show up as.” I cringe for a moment since I all but accused them of dating.
Carter gives a cheery laugh. “Well, Chels and I are new. We’re sort of feeling our way around to see where things might lead. Right now, it’s grief that’s bonding us.” And it’s a hell of a bond. My heart aches, but Chelsea somehow makes things better.
Country Cottage Mysteries Boxed Set Page 34