Ex-Cape | Book 2 | Ex-Cape From A Small Town

by Wentzel, Daniel

  Ex-Cape from a Small Town

  Ex-Cape Mysteries Book 2

  Daniel Wentzel

  For Jill, who makes my world worth saving.

  And for Liz and Andrew, who helped me put a mask on all my typos.

  The Capes and their Identities

  Etherya — Molly Martin

  Hustle — Frank Falco

  Damselfly — Beth Baxter

  The Hospitaller — Wulfric Weiss

  The Grim Detective — Charles Christman

  Major Maximum — David Donaldson

  Moondancer — Alicia Adamson

  Steelstrike — Unknown

  Gravel — Andrew Alvarez

  Chapter One

  The elastic band on her domino mask pinched her behind the ears. Molly looked down at the tights and hoped they wouldn’t bunch up around her ankles. The soles of her shoes were too thin, and there was absolutely no arch support. Boots would have looked snappier. With a frown, she stared at her shoulder and decided for the fifth time that night that the caplet was too much.

  Suddenly the summons came to her. It was the time for action, and she didn’t have time to worry about her costume. Only one door stood between her and her objective, and she threw it open with a blaze of triumph. She was once again doing what she truly loved.

  “Trick or treat,” murmured the little girl in the pink princess dress.

  “Tick ow teat,” echoed her younger brother, dressed as a ninja.

  Molly could feel the smile spreading across her face. It was all she could do to avoid the appreciative “aww” at the cuteness of it all.

  Her smile brought the opposite effect of what she expected. The little boy brought his shoulders up in a protective shrug. He then hid behind his sister’s pink taffeta skirts.

  “It’s okay, Tyler.” The children’s mother stood a few feet back. She leaned forward, ready to come comfort the little boy if need be.

  “He’s afraid of clowns,” the girl explained.

  Molly frowned but nodded in understanding. She knelt down and held out the bowl of candy. “Please take some for you and some for him. You can each have two.”

  The girl stepped forward without further urging and took three mini candy bars and a package of gummy candies. “Thank you,” she said cheerily, and turned around to rejoin her family.

  “Happy Halloween,” called the mother.

  Molly returned the sentiment and closed her door against the October evening. The door was barely closed when she sighed in frustration. She had spent nearly a half an hour selecting her costume, and she’d been especially careful to avoid something she thought might scare the children. While she knew that a harlequin was not exactly the same as a clown, she should have known it was close enough to trigger a child’s phobia.

  But what had been her alternative? Most of the women’s costumes on the rack had been, there was no other word for it, trampy. Those that hadn’t been trampy had been lame, and those that hadn’t been lame had required several years’ experience as a makeup artist to look good. When she came across the harlequin costume, she’d been ecstatic. Sure, the bodysuit was figure-hugging, but the deep red and black velour made it perfectly modest, and she had loved the way it had looked on her.

  She wondered if it was possible that Tyler’s reaction would be a one-time thing, but the next five children to come ring her doorbell disabused her of that notion. Molly had just decided to go up to her room and put on some regular clothes when her doorbell rang once again.

  On the other side of the door was quite a different specimen. For one thing, he was well over six feet tall. Additionally, he wore no costume except for the “mask” made by his index fingers and thumbs surrounding his eyes.

  “Trick or treat,” he said.

  Molly grinned up at Sean Cedar, the new man in her life. “Treat,” she replied, and pulled him inside the house. “I thought you were at a conference.”

  She didn’t give him a chance to respond. Instead, she reached up – way up – and brought her hands together behind his neck. Then she gave a little hop and let him catch her in his arms before her feet hit the ground again.

  There were only so many ways Molly could see eye to eye with Sean. This was the way which got her the most kisses.

  Truth be told, her other boyfriend, Frank, was probably a better kisser. He was far less reserved than Sean, and, to be fair, he’d gotten in a lot more practice with Molly. On the other hand, Sean had the approximate size and shape of a Kodiak bear. She hadn’t yet gotten past the novelty of kissing a man while her feet weren’t touching the ground. Kissing Sean made her feel like she was flying.

  “Hi,” she said after indulging in Sean’s lips. She was slightly taken aback by how husky her voice sounded.

  A high-pitched bark interrupted them. Buster, Molly’s twelve-year-old Pekingese, had approached Sean with his usual regal grace. His tail tracked back and forth with energy the dog otherwise never displayed. With another matter-of-fact bark, Buster put his paw on Sean’s shoe, an obvious request for attention.

  They both laughed, relieving some of the tension Molly felt in her gut. Sean lowered her to the ground, but not before stealing a few quick pecks. “Hi yourself,” he responded as he knelt down and let the dog smell his hand before stroking the soft fur. “Somebody’s laptop crashed, and they had to cancel the last presenta… What?”

  Molly realized she’d been caught and stopped trying not to giggle. “My lipstick looks great on you.” She reached out and traced the line of crimson across his lips. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

  Molly led him to her downstairs bathroom where she had done her makeup. She knew there was some remover on the sink. Buster followed patiently.

  Sean stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “I'm not the only one with smudges," he said with a wink.

  Molly peeked at the mirror and frowned. Her harlequin makeup was uneven to say the least. The effect was slightly ghastly. She pulled off the mask to better reapply the white and red coloring. Sean, ever the gentleman, gestured for her to go into the washroom, but she shook her head and dragged him in with her.

  The downstairs washroom fit the definition of a water closet, and it was almost too cramped for Sean by himself. With both of them inside, it took only a few moments for serious giggles to catch on. They playfully pushed back and forth, purposefully getting in each other's way.

  Every once in a while, Sean could put down the grown-up cop mantle and just… play. Molly relished it. Buster barked, encouraging the chaos, then decided to join them in the room. They had to be careful not to step on him. Molly was just considering escalating matters with the foaming hand soap when the doorbell rang again.

  Molly jumped and winced as her elbow caught Sean under his ribs.

  "Oof."

  "Sorry," she cried, but her momentum didn't slow. Molly Martin, former superhero, used her powers and passed through the walls, and through Sean, as though they simply weren't there. She knew Sean wasn't entirely comfortable when she used her powers, but her priorities were clear. Solidifying, she fumbled at the doorknob with her left hand while scooping up the candy bucket with her right.

  Two soldiers, a werewolf, and a bloody hockey mask later, she closed the door. Sean, rubbing his side gently, was regarding her with raised eyebrows.

  "You take trick or treats very seriously."

  "It's a sworn duty," she replied with a grin.

  He stooped and picked up Buster, holding the dog like a fuzzy football. "And I hadn't noticed before, but these decorations are, dare I say, voluminous."

  She shook her head. "I don't go for volume with decorations. No poly-c
otton spider-webs, no cheap plastic. I like decorations that make you notice them."

  "Let me change ‘voluminous’ to ‘omnipresent’ then. There are quite a lot of noticeable things." To prove his point, he fished a few chocolates out of a bowl shaped like a human skull.

  "I've been collecting for years, even from before I moved to Capetown."

  "It's impressive. I can't wait to see what you do for Christmas."

  She shrugged and moved toward the couch. "Christmas isn't such a big deal for me."

  "Halloween over Christmas? That surprises me."

  “Why?”

  “Because I've seen your video collection and you don't have a single horror movie.”

  Molly gave him a defensive pout.

  “Abbot and Costello meet Frankenstein doesn't count,” he declared mercilessly.

  She shook her head. “I have a lot of the Lon Cheney and Karloff classics, they're just behind all the other DVDs. Besides, Halloween isn't about scary movies.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “And what is it about?”

  “Dressing up in costumes and filling children up with enough candy to make their parents weep.” She let herself get serious for a moment. “I've been attacked by actual psychos in masks. Slasher flicks just make me angry that I'm not there to stop the bad guy.”

  “But monster movies are ok?”

  “Only the hokey ones.”

  He nodded. “I get that.” He bowed his head sheepishly. “It might have been nice to curl up and watch something spooky so you’d have a chance to cling to me when you got scared.”

  She winked at him. “Nice try, Romeo.”

  He returned her smile. “Can't blame a guy for trying. So what do you have against Christmas?”

  Molly didn't remember snitching the Kit-Kat from the bowl of treats. She only saw it in her hands as she worried at the wrapper. “Christmas is fine. I like presents as much as the next girl.”

  “But?”

  She closed her eyes. “Christmas is about family. I haven't seen my family since…”

  “Since you participated in the Vigilante Amnesty Act, moved away from the city where you used to fight crime, and came to live here?” He shook his head and put Buster down. “I'm sorry. I'm supposed to be a detective. I could have figured that out.”

  She finally got the wrapper to open. “It's been five years. I send postcards through the VAA every now and again. They think I'm in the Witness Protection Program.” She sighed and popped the candy into her mouth. “I saw in the paper a few weeks ago that my sister got engaged.”

  Sean put his huge hand on her shoulder. “Am I bringing you down on your favorite holiday?”

  “Yes,” she admitted.

  “Do you want me to go?”

  She shook her head. “That would probably make me feel worse.”

  “Then what can I do?”

  She pursed her lips in concentration. “Wait here,” she said after a moment. “If that doorbell rings, you are to do everything in your power to promote the cause of tooth decay.” Her instructions were stern, leaving no room for doubt about her earnestness. Sean's answering salute only had a touch of smart-alecitude.

  Three minutes later, she was back down the stairs with the only things from her costume trunk which were likely to fit Sean.

  “Suit up, mister.” She smiled wickedly as she handed him the vampire's cape and the witch’s hat.

  Sean scowled through the twinkle in his eyes. “You're manipulating me with your feminine wiles. You know that, right?”

  As she tied the cape around his neck, she stole a quick kiss. “Is there any other point in having wiles, feminine or otherwise?”

  The doorbell rang again to reveal a Peanuts style ghost with a score of holes cut into his sheet. Molly and Sean congratulated the teenager on going “old school” and he walked away with two packs of Dots for his trouble.

  “I don't want you to think the hat is driving me off,” said Sean, “but since I'm home early, I really ought to switch shifts with Pemberton. That lets him go to a party with his wife, and it gives me a day off tomorrow.”

  Molly nodded her understanding. She’d gotten used to Sean’s unusual schedule working for the State Police, even to the point of having a general sense when the shifts started. “You can stay for another hour or so then? I won't pop in a movie in that case.” Instead, she grabbed the remote and thumbed on a Munster's marathon.

  “This meets your Halloween standards?” He asked as he sat next to her on the couch. Buster sat at their feet, his tail beating an irregular rhythm on the side of the couch.

  “It's perfect.” She smiled at him and skootched closer so he could put an arm around her shoulder. He smelled like coffee. “So I guess you'll be keeping an eye out for kids egging houses tonight?”

  He shook his head. “That's more the local PD's gig. It's my first Halloween here, but I understand it's breaking up late night keggers, mostly. We also promised the Episcopal church to swing through the cemetery every few hours to break up any séances. The last thing we want is an angry ghost on our hands.”

  She fixed him with a level glare. “Careful, Sean. Ghosts are real.”

  He narrowed his eyes, unsure if she was kidding or not. “You don't say?”

  “I do.” She smiled innocently. “I've told you how I got my powers.”

  “Yes,” he allowed slowly, “you told me there was an experiment which was trying to prove the science behind ghosts. I'm not sure it follows that your professor was right with his theory.”

  “Your logic is sound, but I have empirical evidence that ghosts exist.”

  He regarded her with an even stare. “And that would be?”

  “I punched one in the stomach once.”

  ✽✽✽

  Sean had only shut the door behind him a moment before Molly's phone rang.

  “Can you come rescue me?”

  “Heather?”

  “Yeah,” replied her best friend. “Are you still giving out candy?”

  “It's petering out. What's wrong?”

  “I'm kind of stranded. I went out to a Halloween party with Tom Harris. He was supposed to be the designated driver. That lasted about twenty minutes. He proceeded to down four beers and told me he was off to the next party.”

  “He left you there?”

  “Well I sure wasn't getting into the car with him driving.” She paused and added guiltily, “And I've had a few myself.”

  “I'll come get you. Don't worry. Where are you?”

  “I'm at the Cat. Thanks.”

  It took Molly twenty minutes to make her way out of town and arrive at the parking lot of What The Cat Dragged Inn. She wished Heather had chosen a better class of bar to get stuck in. The Cat, as it was known, was a dive.

  According to Heather, who had lived near Capetown most of her life, the Cat had started off as a rather posh establishment, but years of bad choices had steadily deteriorated it. Paintings from local artists had been replaced, or in some cases, simply covered up with neon signs for cheap beer. The extensive menu of classic pub fare had been reduced to chicken nuggets and greasy fries. Worst of all, though, when the finish on the elegant wood tables had begun to wear, the owners had painted over them with easily touched up, but intensely hideous mud-brown paint.

  Molly pulled into the gravel parking lot. Evidently the Halloween party was hopping as spaces were scarce. Molly was forced to park on a patch of high grass near the edge. Thankfully, the season had been dry so her car was in no danger of sinking in the marshy soil.

  As Molly made her way across the parking lot, a light caught her eye. Tony Archer was under the hood of a Ford F150 with a flashlight in his teeth. Molly changed her course. Tony had graduated from Capetown High a few years ago, and had just come back from service in the army. Molly had tutored him in calculus her first year in Capetown. If his car wouldn't start, she'd be happy to offer him a ride back to town.

  “At the risk of sounding stupid, car trouble?”
>
  Tony smiled at her. He spoke around the flashlight as though it were a monster cigar. “There's about to be.”

  He furrowed his brow in concentration as he manipulated the screwdriver. With a grunt of satisfaction, something came loose.

  “Tony,” Molly said trying to keep her voice level, “did you just remove the distributor cap from your car?”

  “No, ma'am,” he responded. “I just pulled the distributor cap from my uncle's car.”

  She shot up an eyebrow. “Aren't you a little old for Halloween pranks?”

  He shook his head and gestured to the Cat. “He's in there right now and has just started his fifth beer for the night. I know for a fact that he's planning to drive this monster home in about twenty minutes. He won't even consider calling a cab. After what happened to Dana…” Tony shook his head.

  Molly knew the story well. Dana and Tony dated most of the way through high school. She and two other girls were killed in a car crash a week before the senior prom. All three girls had been drinking.

  She put her hand on his arm in a comforting gesture. Tony acknowledged that with a sad smile, pocketed the flashlight and distributor cap in his jacket, and closed the hood.

  The moment was somewhat spoiled when the hood clipped the tip of one of his fingers as it slammed down. Tony clenched his teeth and sucked in a breath. She could tell he was refusing to curse in front of his former teacher. He shook his hand then cradled it for a moment. When he met Molly’s eyes again, he flashed a thumbs up to let her know there had been no lasting damage.

  “That's a nice costume, Miss Martin.” he said, changing the subject.

  “Thanks. I think it kind of loses something with the overcoat. You won't be calling me Molly any time soon, will you, Tony?”

  They started walking toward the warmth of the bar. “No, ma'am.”

  “I guess informality wasn't something you would have picked up in the Army.”

  He shook his head. “No, ma'am.”

  “Any more tours for you?”

  “No, I'm… I'm done with that.” She could tell he didn't want to talk about his service. “I'm doing trash collecting for the township until I finish getting certified as an EMT.”