by K E O'Connor
I patted his arm. There were so many sad stories like this. Not just in this town, but across the whole country. People who’d lost loved ones and blamed themselves, even though none of us could do much to stop the zombies.
No one had been prepared. We were now. In Zee Town, we were safe.
“Your secret’s safe with me,” I said. “It’s unlikely you’ll ever need it again.”
“You’re right.” Bill slid the bat back into place.
I followed him out from behind the counter. “Have you heard about Bert? Is that why you’re worried about zombies?”
Bill’s neck muscles flexed. “Yes. I was so shocked. Found face down in the bunker on his favorite golf hole.”
“There’s no need to panic,” I said. “We don’t know for sure what happened.”
“Do you think it was zombies?” The color in Bill’s cheeks faded. “You don’t think they’ve come back, do you?”
“No, definitely not.” I rubbed the scar on my palm. “I’d like to see the body just to be sure.”
Bill gave a startled laugh. “Cassie! I didn’t know you were so gruesome.”
I smiled and ducked my head. “I don’t really want to see a dead body. That would be horrible. From what I’ve heard, there were bruises and bite marks. That makes little sense if it was zombies.”
“Zombies are more...” Bill flexed his fingers and snapped his teeth.
“Exactly. More bite and less punch. Nick was being his usual cagey self when I spoke to him. I didn’t learn much. I have to give a statement tomorrow at the station.”
“Do they think you’re involved?” Bill’s eyes widened.
“Nick learned that I’d met with Bert before he died, strictly on carnival business.” I shrugged. “He’d probably like to pin every crime this town has on me. I don’t have a fan with Nick Morton. He’s never liked my interactions with zombies.”
“He’s a decent enough chap,” Bill said. “An excellent officer.”
“I’ll take your word for that. Do you have any idea who might have wanted to kill Bert? A jaded girlfriend? An angry business partner?”
“I’m not one for gossip.” Bill leaned closer.
I smiled. That wasn’t true. “What do you know?”
“He did have a much younger girlfriend. I’ve also heard talk that things weren’t going so well with the store.”
“Money trouble?”
“More a clash of personalities. He’s in business with Johnny.”
“Sure. I know Johnny. They’ve been fighting?”
“More like a few tense disagreements. I’m not certain about what. It might be nothing.”
I nodded. “And what about his girlfriend?”
“Abigail is beautiful, young, and far too attractive for a middle-aged man with a paunch.” Bill patted his own stomach.
“So, Johnny and Abigail might not be unhappy that Bert’s dead?”
Bill smiled. “That’s possible. Perhaps let Nick solve this mystery.”
I frowned. “Nick’s only interested in blaming the zombies.”
“Nick has good reason not to like them,” Bill said.
“He does? What’s his reason?”
Bill glanced at the door. “You didn’t get this information from me. Nick won’t be happy that I’m gossiping about him.”
“I won’t say a word.”
“I was in the pub a while back and found Nick on his own. I joined him for a drink, which led to more drinks. During our slightly drunken ramblings, he talked about an incident where he lost people.”
“In a zombie attack?”
“He wasn’t clear on the details. From what I could gather, it sounded like he lost his family, maybe even a girlfriend. He was commemorating an anniversary. That’s got to make a man a little suspicious about zombies.” Bill’s gaze shifted to the counter and then back to me.
I chewed on my bottom lip. I felt a certain amount of sympathy for Nick, but most of us had lost people in the zombie uprising. Did that give him the right to be so mean to me?
“Remember, not a word to Nick about this.” Bill smiled and patted my arm. “I’ll put some flyers in the window. And I will have a ready supply for any tourists who come in so they know exactly what delights they have coming their way.”
“Thanks, Bill. You’re an angel.” I stood on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek, making his plump face glow red.
“I was wondering,” Bill said. “I mean, if it’s not too much trouble, would you give me one of your trinkets for my window?”
“Of course! I’d be happy to.” I glanced at the wide fronted windows of Bill’s store. “I’m surprised I haven’t already given you a trinket. I’ve made them for most of the stores in town.”
“I’ve noticed,” Bill said. “People say they keep the zombies calm.”
“Hmmm, I’ve heard that too. I think they just like things that sparkle.”
“And the trinkets bring good luck. I’d like some of that.”
I smiled. “I’m making one at the moment. It doesn’t have a home. I was thinking of adding it to my collection. Perhaps it would be more suitable here.”
“I’d be happy to have one gracing my windows,” Bill said as he showed me to the door.
“I’ll see what I can do.” I waved goodbye to Bill and headed to the diner.
My thoughts turned to Bert’s murder. It sounded like he had enemies. An unhappy girlfriend and a business partner with issues.
I checked the time and sped up. I’d spent longer than I’d meant to with Bill. I had to hurry if I was to get my promotional material out.
As curious as I was about Bert’s demise, I had to focus on the carnival.
Chapter 5
Laura was rushed off her feet when I entered the diner.
I gave her a wave and showed her the pile of flyers. She wouldn’t mind me promoting the carnival in the diner.
I stuck a few flyers on the pin board, scattered some on the tables, answered questions from tourists about the event, and then headed to my next stop.
My next stop was Beauty for All, the salon Jen worked at. It was open late most evenings, and there were several customers seated inside.
Jen was fluffing an elderly woman’s hair into a pale blonde beehive. She saw me as I walked to the reception desk and gave me a finger wave.
“I’ll be with you in five minutes,” she mouthed.
I nodded and laid out a few flyers on the small table in the waiting area. The room was painted bright white and dotted with baskets of flowers and bowls of candies. I helped myself to several candies and placed the rest of the flyers on the main reception desk for people to take away.
I sat and waited for Jen to finish with her client, glad to take a break from all the walking. Once the lady had paid for her beautiful new beehive hairdo and left, Jen walked over to me.
“I’m just dropping off the latest information about the carnival,” I said as she sat next to me.
“Great. Let me have a look.” Jen snatched up a flyer. “Ooh, you’ve got those amazing marshmallow and ice cream sellers again. Last year, I ate so much ice cream I had a stomach ache for a week.”
“That doesn’t mean the ice cream was bad.” I nudged her. “It means you ate too much.”
Jen laughed. “I’m not disputing that. The pain was worth it. I’ll have to wear my pants with the elasticized waistband on the day.”
“That sounds like a plan. Have you heard anything more about Bert?”
“No, other than the same rumors. What about you?”
“I had a visit from Nick and the new guy, Alex.” I lifted a flyer and turned it around in my hands a few times before placing it down. “They want me to give a statement tomorrow about what I know about Bert’s death. Nick thinks I’m involved.”
“Typical Nick. What do you think about the new guy?” Jen dropped the flyer on the table. “He’s hot, isn’t he?”
I shook my head. Only Jen would place Alex’s hotness over the fact I
had to give a statement about a murdered resident. “He was nice to me.”
“No butterflies in the stomach?”
“It’s hard to tell,” I said. “He has lovely teeth.”
“He has lovely everything,” Jen said.
“You’re sure you’re not interested in him?”
Jen shrugged. “Maybe. Once the tourists have quietened down, I’ll take a second look. If you want to date him first, be my guest.”
“How kind of you,” I said. “I’m so glad you won’t try to steal the new hot guy in town before I’ve had a turn.”
Jen laughed. “You’re very welcome.”
“I’m heading to the Black Dog next to give out flyers,” I said. “Do you want to join me?”
“Absolutely! If you hang on for a bit, I’ll come with you. We can have a quick drink.”
“I’d love sit and watch you primp beautiful people, but I need to hit the restaurants to promote the carnival and the rest of the stores. And I’ve got a dozen emails that need a reply tonight. If I don’t cross them off my to-do list, I won’t sleep.”
“Another time.” Jen hooked a candy from the bowl in front of her and unwrapped it. “I’m volunteering at the shelter this evening, so wouldn’t have been able to stay for long.”
I looked out the window. “Did your last customer really ask for such a big beehive?”
“Absolutely! And it looks amazing. She even brought in a picture of what she wanted. Who was I to argue?”
“Maybe she thinks the carnival is fancy dress,” I said.
Jen swatted my arm. “Don’t be mean. Go get on with your work.”
“I’m kidding. It was lovely. I’m too much of a coward to try a look like that.” My style had been sensible bob for years.
Jen pointed at the door. “You’re officially banned. No one insults my beehives and gets away with it.”
I grinned as I grabbed my own candy and exited the salon. Jen was great at what she did and would willingly give customers anything they requested. She was always threatening me with new styles, but I liked my style just fine. A quick wash and five minutes of blow drying, and I was done in the morning. No teasing or back combing for me.
I walked to the only pub in town, the Black Dog. It was an ancient timber built structure with wonky floors, thick walls, and low ceilings. There were open fireplaces at either end of the main bar, and you could guarantee a warm welcome on a cold winter’s evening.
The fires wouldn’t be lit tonight, not with the sun still happily poking its face over the rooftops. I wore a light jacket over my navy polka dot dress, and even that made me feel a little warm as I strode along the streets and pushed open the door of the pub.
It was busy tonight. I had to push my way gently through the crowd to get to the bar. “Marissa,” I called out to the middle-aged redhead pulling several pints of Guinness.
She looked over, her hard features softening as she spotted me. “Be with you in just a minute, gorgeous.”
“There’s no hurry.” I perched on the edge of a high bar stool and waited for her to finish with the customer. She rang up the order and handed over the change so quickly her movements were almost a blur.
Marissa Danvers had run the Black Dog for years and was the world’s best pub owner, with a wicked smile, a quick wit, and a wink that always got her a free drink.
She dashed over to me, her red lips widening into a broad smile. “What can I get you?”
I held up a handful of flyers. “Just doing the rounds with these. I thought your customers might like to know what’s going on at the carnival.”
“I’ll give them to Lucy. It’ll keep her busy.” Marissa turned and waved over a short, petite zombie with shoulder length dark hair. “She gets skittish with all the tourists being around. It will be good to give her a simple task to focus on.”
“Zara’s the same,” I said. “I know the media likes to spread rumors that zombies don’t have emotions, but I know that Zara gets scared when there are crowds. She’s fine with me and anyone she’s familiar with, so I know she feels something.”
Marissa tutted. “I hear you. The media loves to make out that all zombies are bad. Our town is a haven for the placid ones.” She leaned closer. “I’m sure some of these tourists are only here to glimpse something rabid that’s locked behind bars that they can poke a stick at.”
I smiled at Lucy as she came to a stop beside Marissa and gazed up at her employer. She had the same gray, bloodshot eyes as all zombies, but a sweet smile and most of her teeth were still in place.
“Lucy, honey. Take these flyers and place them on the tables in the bar.” Marissa took the flyers from me and passed her the bundle. “If anybody asks you questions, just direct them to Cassie or me. And if anybody gives you trouble, send them my way.”
Lucy gave a single nod and ambled off around the bar, placing flyers on the tables as she did so.
“Have you been having trouble?” I asked. “Are the tourists misbehaving?” It wasn’t uncommon during the peak tourist season. Too much sun, too much free time, and one too many drinks, and things could get out of hand easily.
“You know what they can be like. Among a thousand good ones, there are a dozen who believe everything they’ve read online about zombies. The usual nonsense about how zombies aren’t to be trusted and they’re hiding behind a placid facade, waiting to take a bite out of us.” Marissa flapped a cloth at a customer who demanded a refill without saying please.
I nodded. There was a huge difference between placid and rabid zombies. If you ever met a rabid zombie, and you weren’t prepared, you didn’t survive. They’d chase you down in an undead heartbeat.
“Give me a second. Thirsty customers to deal with.” Marissa placed a bottle of cider on the counter for me before striding away.
I was happy to wait and sip my cider. The pub had a warm, inviting feel, and the friendly buzz made me relax.
“I heard the police have been kicking up a stink about Bert,” Marissa said as she returned from her speedy serving. “It’s a shame he’s gone. He was one of my best customers. He used to come by most days and have a drink and something to eat. I’ll miss him being around.”
“I don’t think they have a clue who’s involved,” I said.
“Rumor has it the zombies are involved.” Marissa arched her carefully groomed eyebrows. “Not that I believe that. My Lucy and your Zara would never do anything like that.”
“I agree,” I said. “Nick’s threatening to shut down the carnival and haul all the zombies in and interrogate them. As if that will work.” Placid zombies under stress go into shut down mode and become nothing more than gray husks.
“Nick needs hauling in and having the smarts beaten out of him,” Marissa said. “The guy doesn’t trust our zombies.”
“I understand he had a bad time of it during the outbreak.” I recalled Bill’s comments about Nick.
“Maybe so, but I’m all for equal opportunities. The poor zombies didn’t ask to be turned. It could just as easily have been any of us. We’re the lucky ones.”
I drank more of my cider before hopping off the bar stool, noticing the anxious expressions of customers waiting to be served but knowing better than to bother Marissa. “I’ll let you get back to it. See you at the carnival?”
“You bet, honey.” Marissa waved away the gesturing hands that demanded drinks. “I’ll get to you all in a minute.” She looked over at me and winked before selecting the best-looking guy at the bar to serve.
I grinned before leaving the pub. Marissa was a diehard singleton. She was a lot of fun to be around, but never let her head get turned by a handsome face. Although, she had a lot of fun breaking the hearts of cute tourists who tried to win her over.
It was past eight o’clock in the evening by the time I left the pub. I was more than ready for dinner. The street lights had flicked on as I headed to my cottage. I could finish the flyers tomorrow and send my emails from home.
My cottage was
in the perfect location, only ten minutes from work and five minutes from the harbor where you could pick up freshly caught fish and crab straight off the boats. There were also stunning views looking out over the ocean from the harbor. I’d often go down there in the summer and sit with a mug of tea, watching the sun rise over the ocean, thanking my good luck for living in Zee Town.
I turned a corner onto Ramshackle Street, where I lived, and spotted a guy standing in the shadows of a nearby doorway. It was one of our zombies, Freddie.
It wasn’t uncommon to find him wandering around this street. He was the son of Mr. and Mrs. Davies. They hadn’t survived the zombie outbreak. Freddie had been turned into a placid zombie and had a connection to his family home only five doors down from my cottage.
I walked toward him. “Is that you, Freddie?”
He lurched out of the doorway, his arms outstretched as he stumbled toward me. It looked like he had blood on the side of his face.
“Has someone hurt you?” My heart pounded as I hurried toward him.
Freddie stumbled to one side and let out a horrible moan as if he was in pain.
Before I could get any closer, I yelped as I was yanked backward into an alleyway.
Chapter 6
I kicked and struggled to get away from my attacker.
He gripped me tightly and pinned me against his chest.
“If you keep quiet, he might not attack you,” a deep male voice whispered in my ear.
I froze for a second. I knew that voice. “There’s no danger. Let go of me.”
“Shush. He might leave, but only if you’re quiet.” A hand went over my mouth.
For goodness sake! I kicked out backward, connecting with my attacker’s shin.
He let go, hissing out curses, and pushed me away.
I spun around. It was Alex, the new police officer.
He bent and rubbed his shin briskly. “I was trying to help you. If you hadn’t noticed, there’s a zombie trying to get you.”