Halloween Is Murder

by Carolyn Arnold

  Jimmy Voigt, their former sergeant when they worked for the Albany PD, also worked for them at the PI firm. He was on the couch next to his girlfriend, Meredith, for the viewing. Sara had told Sean more than once that it was a match made in heaven. He was pretty sure he’d rolled his eyes every time. Not because he didn’t believe in love—he was married to his soul mate—but he just found it hard to picture his former boss whispering sweet nothings to a lady love.

  Helen was seated at the other end of the sectional, and Mia was on the floor at her feet, still dressed up as a princess. She really was a good kid—as far as kids went anyway. And it’s not that Sean had anything against children, but for now, he and Sara had decided they weren’t going to have any. And honestly, it was probably for the best, as they traveled a lot and solving crimes didn’t leave much free time.

  “I’m going to be on TV.” Mia’s face lit up as she grinned. “I can’t wait!” She seemed more excited about this than she had been at the announcement that pizza was for dinner. Mia stared at the muted television. “That lady was so pretty.”

  By “that lady,” Sean assumed she meant Chloe Parsons. Sean had to agree that based on appearances and initial impressions, she was good-looking. But he didn’t understand why she took such issue with Susannah when she didn’t want to talk.

  Mia turned to Sara and flashed another smile. “You looked great, too.”

  “Thank you.” Sara returned the smile and swept her long brown hair over her left shoulder. “Did you have fun today?”

  “Oh yeah. My favorite part was the mummy.”

  “That didn’t scare you?” Sara laced her voice with concern but couldn’t hide the underlying amusement.

  Mia’s expression faded, and her eyes enlarged. She nodded. “I was, but I like to be scared. And I love mummies!” She bounded to her feet and jumped onto her mother’s lap. Helen let out a whoosh of air but quickly recovered.

  “It’s the other kind of mummy, though, sweetheart.” Helen ran a hand over her daughter’s silky hair.

  “Oh, it’s almost time,” Meredith said, obviously getting swept up in Mia’s enthusiasm.

  Sean looked at the digital clock on the cable box: 5:59.

  “It’s on!” Jimmy said, sitting up straighter.

  Sean turned up the sound and sank back into the couch, putting an arm around his wife.

  Mia wriggled on her mother’s lap.

  “Come on, honey, back on the floor.” Helen’s voice strained with the desperation of her plea.

  Sean smiled, not because of the woman’s discomfort but because he loved seeing how excited Mia was.

  “My costume was the best. They have to show me!” The little girl’s eyes were wide and fixed on the screen.

  “You are a beautiful little princess,” Sean said.

  Mia glared at him. “I’m not little.” She held up both hands, fingers splaying as she counted them off. “I’m six.”

  “My apologies,” he said with a slight bow of his head.

  Sara laced her fingers with his, and he met her gaze, which said, You’re aren’t the best with kids…

  Message received.

  “Shh.” This came from Jimmy, and when Sean turned to look at him, he shrugged. “You want to hear it, don’t you?”

  Sean increased the volume a bit more.

  “We have some somber news this evening,” a chic reporter announced from the news desk. Based on the set of her mouth and the sad look in her eyes, she wasn’t reading from a script. “Your Source has just received word that one of our own has died.”

  Sara tapped her fingers on the back of his, leaned in, and whispered, “I have a bad feeling about this.”

  He didn’t look over at her, but his wife had this way of sensing things. He wouldn’t label her clairvoyant, but she certainly had strong intuition.

  “Tonight, we say good-bye to”—the reporter, while she kept her tone modulated, was clearly battling with her emotions—“Chloe Parsons.”

  The news was a sledgehammer to his chest, knocking the wind out of him.

  “What?” Sara gasped and covered her mouth.

  Meredith was wide-eyed and staring at Jimmy’s profile, Helen’s gaze was fixed on the television, and Mia was looking around the room at the adults.

  “She was with us just this afternoon.” Sara’s voice was small, full of disbelief.

  “I know.” The death came as a shock to him, too, but at this moment, he found it odd how, as soon as people learned that someone died, they always reflected on the last time they saw the deceased. And if it was recently or the day was a beautiful and sunny one, it seemed incomprehensible that death could claim a victim.

  In memoriam, a montage of pictures of Chloe played across the screen, with sound bites and video clips worked into the tribute.

  “That’s the lady, Mommy!” Mia proudly pointed to the pictures of Chloe. “The one who I showed the house to.”

  Helen slid her gaze to Sara and then to Sean. It was clear Mia didn’t understand, and Helen wasn’t sure how to the handle the situation.

  “Chloe brings us one last story. It was recorded a couple of months ago.” There was a bit of a lull before the feed cut to the video.

  It was an exposé on a local contractor who had conned unsuspecting homeowners out of their money. It was a strange choice for a parting segment.

  “Where am I?” Mia’s brows furled, and she got up and stomped out of the room.

  Helen trailed after her daughter. “That’s no way to act, Mia.”

  “I was a beautiful princess.” Mia’s words carried back to the media room.

  Well, this evening certainly didn’t go according to plan…

  Sean turned off the TV.

  “What happened to her, Sean? They gave us no clue as to how she died.” Sara was shaking her head. “I knew it. I just… I felt it when she said it was one of their own.”

  “Something’s fishy,” Jimmy stamped out.

  Sean cut his friend a look for him to tone it down. Sara was prone to getting sidetracked with cases when they had enough on their plate as it was. They had a stack of files waiting for them at the Pay It Forward Investigations offices. And besides, it was way too soon to assume something suspicious had caused Chloe’s death. Yet, no details had been provided, and wasn’t that what the news did? Share the news? They had to know that their audience would want more answers, especially when it was one of their own who had died. But they’d disclosed nothing that even hinted at what had happened.

  “Jimmy’s right. And why didn’t they feature our haunted house?” Sara asked and dismissed the unaired segment with a wave of her hand. “Not that it matters right now… Not in light of—” She gestured toward the TV.

  A snake coiled in his gut. He didn’t care for Sara’s dismissiveness about the house. They’d worked hard to bring the haunted house together, and it had been to serve the community. Broadcasting their segment would have made no difference in what happened to Chloe.

  “I need to find out what happened to her.” Sara moved to get off the couch, but he held her back.

  “I’m sure Your Source will update everyone when they’re able to,” he said.

  She glared at him. “I think someone killed her, and that’s why they’re all hush-hush about it.”

  “They could be being vague for many reasons.”

  “Well, then we need to find out which reason it is.”

  “We don’t need to.” Sean didn’t like how it had so quickly become their responsibility. He tried to keep the irritation from seeping into his voice, but was pretty certain he was failing. There were police for a reason.

  “She could be right, Sean,” Jimmy said. “Like I said, it seems fishy.”

  “Guess we should jump all over this, then,” Sean snapped. Now that his annoyance was out of the box, it was next to impossible to put the lid back on it. He leaned forward, taking in each person’s face, stopping on Meredith’s. “You’ve been pretty quiet.”

&
nbsp; “I speak if I have something worth saying,” Meredith stated politely. “And I have nothing to do with what you all do. I leave these matters in the hands of the experts.”

  “The police?” he asked. “I agree.”

  Meredith winced and shook her head. “I meant the three of you.”

  Sara smiled, and Sean let her go. Maybe she’d make a phone call and find out there was nothing for them to concern themselves with. Either Chloe had died of natural causes, or the police were actively investigating. He could only hope that if it was the latter, it was enough for Sara to let it go.

  -

  Chapter 3

  SHADOWS OF NIGHT

  SARA WAS CALLING YOUR SOURCE from her home office one last time. That’s what she told herself anyhow. She’d lost count of how many times she’d called them, but she had always met with a busy signal. And there it was again…

  She lowered the receiver to its cradle. One could be certain that the station had plenty of rollover lines, so it had to be other people calling in about Chloe’s death, too. Other crazy people like her wanting answers. At least, she was sure that Sean thought she was crazy, but she had a niggling sensation in her gut that they needed to look into Chloe’s death.

  Maybe it was because she and Sean were surrounded by murder wherever they looked and wherever they went. Even when they were supposed to be relaxing on their honeymoon, a case had found them. And the inclination to view any death as suspicious was embedded in her psyche from years working as a homicide detective with the Albany PD. Sure, Chloe could have died from natural causes, an accident, or even suicide, but it was also just as likely that someone had caused her death intentionally. To quiet her mind, Sara had to find out which scenario applied to Chloe. And if her calls weren’t making it through, there was another route she could take.

  She flicked on the monitor, pleased that she had the habit of leaving her computer on most of the time. She brought up an Internet search engine and typed in Chloe’s full name and Your Source. This brought up pages of results. The first entry was a post from the television station entitled, DEATH OF LOCAL REPORTER CASTS DARK CLOUD OVER ALBANY. Sara clicked to open the link.

  Scanning down the page, she found she was no closer to knowing what had happened to Chloe. There was no cause of death listed, but rather, the piece read like an obituary with a recap of Chloe’s career accomplishments and brief mentions of her personal life—she had a sister and had died single. That was it. Somehow it seemed like a sad summation of a twenty-five-year-old woman’s life that had been cut so short. There was so much that Chloe had yet to experience, and Sara hoped that Chloe had at least known romantic love at some point in her life.

  Sara returned to her search results and clicked on many of the other links, but they were more or less copycats of the statement Your Source had published.

  There was a soft knock on the door, and she switched the monitor off and swiveled her chair to face her visitor. “Come in.”

  Sean stepped into the room. “Were you able to get through to the station?”

  She shook her head, feeling defeated. Sean came over to her, placed both his hands on her shoulders, and looked her in the eyes, his gaze searching hers.

  “She was so young,” Sara lamented.

  “It’s sad, I give you that. We’ll track down her family and send flowers to her funeral.”

  She got up and stepped away from him. She wished she could fully explain to him how she was feeling and why finding out what had happened to Chloe mattered to her. But to do so, she’d have to understand it herself. “I just need to know what happened to her, Sean.”

  “I get that.” He angled his head—a caring gesture of sorts. “But there’s not much we can do about it tonight. Come on. Let’s try to enjoy the rest of the night as much as we can.”

  “Oh,” she blurted out. “Everyone must think I’m nuts.”

  He shook his head. “I sent them all home an hour ago.”

  Sara put a hand to her forehead. “I’ve been in here that long?” She looked at the clock on the wall: 8:20.

  They said time flew when you were having fun. Apparently, it wasn’t contingent on that factor alone.

  “It’s all right,” he said. “They understood. They know you very well.” A small smile touched the corners of his mouth.

  “That’s a good thing?” she asked. Right now she wasn’t so sure.

  “It is,” he assured her.

  She put a hand over her upset stomach without thinking about it, but Sean had caught the action by the time she realized. His gaze drifted slightly. Her “feelings” could sometimes frustrate him, but it was just because he didn’t understand. Sean met her gaze again, and before he opened his mouth to speak, she knew what was coming. He’d offer something to pacify her, and she’d likely accept.

  “We’ll go to the station in the morning and talk to the manager,” he suggested. “Will that work?”

  “First thing.” She wanted to reinforce the stipulation.

  “First thing.”

  She hugged him tightly then, but she sensed a sadness coming from him. Or maybe it was more disappointment than sadness. The haunted house and their story, she realized.

  “When we’re there,” she said, “we can also ask what happened to our piece on the haunted house.”

  His shoulders lifted, and she sensed his spirits rising.

  “We put in so much work and effort,” she continued. “The community needs to know about it so they can come out and donate.”

  He nodded. “I agree.”

  They’d been interviewed by the local paper about the haunted house, but they had both been looking forward to the reach that television coverage could provide. If only there was a way to reach more people… Radio could be an option, and there were other television stations in town, but her mind was headed in a different direction.

  Not long after Sean had inherited his billions, they’d met Adam Laverty. They’d found him working as an assistant to the CEO of one of Sean’s companies in New York City. Adam had proven himself a true asset many times over. He was in his twenties and a tech genius. And while he stayed at his full-time job, he also worked on a consultant basis for their PI firm. If anyone could take the Internet by storm, it would be him.

  “I’ve got an idea,” she said.

  Sean raised an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”

  “Adam’s so savvy when it comes to computers, why don’t we see if he can create excitement on social media?”

  “Buzz,” he said.

  “What?”

  “You said create excitement, but they call it buzz.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Brat.”

  He smirked, pleased with himself.

  “Anyway, I’m sure he could handle something like that. Regardless, it certainly doesn’t hurt to ask.” She tossed out a smile.

  He softly caressed her cheek. “I love your positive attitude.”

  Positive? Her?

  While she liked to think so, she wasn’t convinced. She found it easy to portray but not always easy to believe. And when it came to death, her outlook was never sunny. Her suspicions were always roused, and her curiosity needed satisfying for her—or anyone around her—to find any peace.

  -

  Chapter 4

  CLOAK-AND-DAGGER

  THE YOUR SOURCE OFFICES WERE a ten-minute drive north of the Egg, an iconic building in the city’s landscape, and the breathtaking architecture of the New York State Capitol. A single-story industrial structure of gray brick housed the television station.

  Sean pulled into the parking lot, got out of the car, and walked around to get Sara’s door. Some might view this as old-fashioned, but when it came to Sara, it just felt like the right thing to do. Besides, opening the door also served a practical purpose. Sara had a tendency to dress to the nines and had a love of high heels—especially stilettos—and they drove a Mercedes-Benz SLS AMG GT, a compact, low-riding sports car.

  He held o
ut a hand to Sara, and she slipped hers into his. She stepped out, looking absolutely stunning. She looked as if she had just come off a runway, and she wore her designer skirt suit with an understated elegance, as if she had been born in it. And while she was far from materialistic, she certainly had an eye for fashion; it was one area in which she enjoyed spending money. She even took pleasure in buying clothing for him and was slowly working him out of his comfort zone of blacks, beiges, and whites and into the world of color.

  They held hands as they walked into the building. Her heels clacked against the tiled floor, catching the attention of the receptionist—a twentysomething woman with shoulder-length, straight, blond hair. She smiled at them. Her lips were a bright red, and it was hard to say if it was the expression or the makeup that garnered more attention. Her gaze first took in Sara but then landed on Sean. She lowered her eyelids a fraction.

  “Good morning,” the woman purred. “How can I help you?”

  Sean lifted his sunglasses and rested them on the top of his head. The woman’s mouth twitched, and a slip of tongue poked out between her lips.

  “We’re Sean and Sara McKinley,” he said, thinking it was best to make it clear that they came as a package. “We’d like to speak with the station manager, Kurt Bishop.” They’d gotten the name from Your Source’s website before leaving the house.

  “Do you have an appointment?” The woman’s gaze was still glued to Sean.

  “We don’t, but if Mr. Bishop is in, we’d like to speak with him. We’ll only be a minute.” He added the last part, sweeping it in as if it were no big deal to interrupt the man’s day.

  “I’m sorry, but I—”

  “Please excuse our rudeness,” Sara interrupted, her voice as smooth as churned butter. She held out her hand toward the receptionist. “I’m Sara.”