by Renee George
My Hairy Halloween
The Misadventures of Sunny Haddock
An “In Between” Peculiar Mystery
Book 2.5
By Renee George
My Hairy Halloween (Peculiar Mysteries Book 2.5)
Copyright © Renee George 2016 – All Rights Reserved
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the copyright holder.
Any trademarks, service marks, product names or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement by the author of this work.
This is a work of fiction. All characters and storylines in this book are inspired only by the author’s imagination. The characters are based solely in fiction and are in no relation inspired by anyone bearing the same name or names. Any similarities to real persons, situations, or incidents is purely coincidental.
Dedication
To my sisters and my brother.
You all make my life a little more peculiar in such a great way.
Acknowledgements
I have to thank Michele Bardsley, my sister Robbin, and all the fans of this Peculiar series. You guys keep me wanting to write more and more in this world. May we be together for many mysteries to come. I love you. <3
And coffee. I can’t forget to thank coffee.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Epilogue
Also by Renee George
About the Author
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Chapter One
All Hallow’s Eve…
Glowing Jack-O-Lanterns with gaping maws and jolly gazes were staggered between hay bales inside Delbert and Elbert Johnson’s barn. The twin opossum shifters, decked out in patchy overalls, scarecrow face paint, and straw sticking out everywhere, had gone all out on the town’s annual Halloween Bash from cobwebs in every corner to dry ice filled cauldrons overflowing with white smoky mist. Halloween music played over speakers. Swinging skeletons, the scent of nutmeg and cinnamon, and the occasional screaming moans emitting from a sound machine, frankly, was giving me a headache.
I scanned the crowd of townsfolk from my fortune teller booth, Chavvah’s idea to keep me off my feet. I wanted to enjoy myself, but I was five months pregnant, which in therianthrope terms meant this baby was spreading my ribs wide open and threatening to kick my liver right out my butt. In other words, I was less than a month from my due date. Topping that, my psychic ability, which had been on the fritz since my first pregnancy with my son Jude, was all revved up and in go, go, go mode. But nothing in Peculiar is ever as simple as it appears, and nothing about my psychic ability is ever easy. I was only sure of one thing, someone would die tonight if I didn’t figure out who the Wolfman was and why the invisible man wanted him or her dead.
****
Four days before Halloween…
I fluffed the large white sheet Chavvah, my BFF and sister-in-law, had delivered to me from our pal Ruth Thompson. Ruth had cut the queen-sized cotton into a circle, hemmed the edges down, created sleeves, and cut in eyes and a mouth holes.
“I can’t go as a ghost,” I whined. Baby Jude, nine months old now, crawled under my hem and wrapped his legs and arms around my leg. I walked forward on a stiff leg. He giggled, triggering all my mommy endorphins.
Chavvah, who I always thought was destined for greater things, had a life-changing summer. She’d fought psychotic killers, found out she could change into a wolf, and she was inhabited by a ginormous spirit named Brother Wolf. On top of that, she’d finally found the love of her life, Billy Bob Smith. They’d been in love with each other for a long time before they finally admitted it. I’d had a hard time observing and not interfering, but I’m impatient, and it wasn’t my affair. To tell the truth, love has to happen on its own timeline.
“That costume is ridiculous, Sunny.” Chav stood up straight, placing two determined fists on her hips. “You can’t even tell who you are under all that.”
“That’s the point,” I said.
Chav stomped her foot in irritation. She’d been so damaged by a kidnapping a year and a half ago that had left her with a terrible limp and residual pain, it was nice to see her moving so well. Becoming Billy Bob’s mate and practicing spirit talking had almost healed her completely. Granted, her parents were still freaked out about her ability shift into both a coyote and a wolf. Even my Babe had his qualms. Coyote shifters considered werewolves dangerous and unpredictable. I’d only known the one, and the doc was a sweetheart in my book. But old prejudices are hard to break. Even so, Babe liked Billy Bob a lot better now that he knew Billy Bob wasn’t trying to steal me away.
As if.
“Oh, Sunny.” Chav sighed. “Why didn’t you just have Ruth cut a hole and make a collar so you could have your head out?”
Her question snapped me out of my parental euphoria. “My face looks like someone’s been drilling for oil!”
I’d like to say that the second pregnancy was easier than the first, but I’d be a big, fat, liar liar pants on fire. I never knew how bad bad could get. I threw up morning, noon, and night for the first two months and still gained weight. After that, I broke out in hives between my thighs that rubbed together every time I walked, and now I’d moved into the really unattractive last month, and it was taking its toll on my skin. I’d developed acne that had my cheeks red, bumpy, and inflamed. It was as if my body had been taken over by an alien. A rude, disgusting, smelly, farty, belchy, rashy, acidy-refluxy, someone-needs-to-kill-its-ass alien.
“I’m hideous. I don’t want anyone to see me.” Hence, the reason for the ghost costume with the full-face hoodie I’d asked Ruth to make me.
“But you’re adorable,” Chav said. She wiggled her fingers and raised her brows. “And scary.”
“Boo.” Brrrrrrrrzzt. “Oh, God.”
“What was that?” Chavvah asked.
I struggled to get the ghost costume over my head, but the sleeves caught under my armpits. “Help me!” Brrrrrrrrrzzzt. “I’m suffocating.”
Chav grabbed the back of my outfit and pulled it up and over my head. Breathing hard, I bent over and pulled Jude into my arms and collapsed onto the couch. Brrzt. Squeak.
Jude giggled.
“Not funny,” I warned him.
He stuck his hand in my mouth in response and giggled again.
“Sunny, you know you’re not supposed to be lifting. Anything. That includes my adorable nephew.” She squeezed Jude’s cheeks. “That’s why I’m here.”
Between Ruth, Chavvah, and Babe, I hadn’t had a moment to myself since Billy Bob diagnosed me with preeclampsia.
“He’s small. It shouldn’t count.”
Therianthropes didn’t develop as quickly as humans, so even though Jude was nine months old, his developmental stage was that of a five-month-old. Billy Bob told me his growth and maturity would be a little behind what I expected, but I wouldn’t see a real slow down in his aging until after he was in his twenties. It seemed to be the point where their genetics kicked in and kept them looking young even into their sixties and seventies. Therianthropes could live up to two hundred years. A fact that I tried not to think about too often. I didn’t want to confront the idea that I was aging more than twice as fast as my husband.
“It counts,” Chav said. She took Jude from me and swung him around. His laughter
brightened my dark mood.
Brrrrrssssss. No, God. Not a hisser. Those were the worst.
“Jesus, Sunny.” Chav took three giant strides back, clutching Jude to her chest like a shield. “You’re producing enough methane to power a small city.”
“You’re mean.”
“Mean would be running out of the house before some faulty electrical wiring causes a spark and your gas blows us all the way back to California.”
Chavvah was a born Missourian, but we had met in San Diego at a community college. We were both non-traditional students and bonded quickly.
“Mean and hateful,” I muttered, but she wasn’t wrong.
“You okay?” Chav asked.
I scowled at her shiny chestnut brown hair, flawless skin, and perfectly waxed brows. “My boobs are sweating.” I was in a Triple D nursing bra that offered very little support, which meant my breasts mashed right up against my beach ball-sized belly.
“Your windows are open, and it’s sixty-four degrees in the house.”
I glared at Chav. Usually, her presence comforted me, but today, not so much. “I’m not going to the stupid Halloween party this weekend.”
“Aww, Sunny. Don’t be like that. You have to go. The whole town has been asking about you.”
“That’s an exaggeration.” I’d taken the past two weeks off from work at Sunny’s Outlook, the restaurant Chav and I owned together. My doctor, who also happened to be the future Mr. Chavvah Trimmel (kidding, I’m certain Billy Bob is keeping his last name. He seems progressive that way), said that my blood pressure and sugar levels had been a little too high on my previous visit. He’d finally given me the “okay” for brief activity, which meant, technically I could go to the big Halloween bash, but really, did I want to be farting all night in a room full of shifters and their super sensitive noses?
No, I did not.
“I’m just going to stay in and watch vintage scary.” The old black and whites were so much scarier than modern day horror. Chavvah had been over every night for the past week, and we’d already viewed The Wolfman, The Mummy, The Mummy, Frankenstein, The Bride of Frankenstein, and The Creature from the Black Lagoon. “At least the invisible man won’t complain about my abnormal bodily discharges.”
“Just because you can’t see him holding his breath, doesn’t mean it’s not happening.”
I threw a throw pillow at Chav, careful to aim at her knees and not hit Jude. “Give me my baby and get out.”
“I’m making you dinner.”
“Get to the kitchen.” My lower lip jutted of its own accord.
“You know, watching all those horror flicks is probably the reason you’re having weird dreams.”
“I had another one last night.”
“Not about invisible men nailing vampire coffins shut again, I hope.”
I shook my head. “This time the invisible man took a crap on the Bride of Frankenstein’s carriage. It was pretty gross.”
“Why would he want to do that?”
“Because he was jealous, angry, and tired of not being seen.”
“That’s very specific,” Chav said.
“It was a very specific dream.”
“I’m going to put Jude in his play pen, so you’re not tempted to pick him up again. Lay off the Lon Chaney for a couple of days,” she scolded then went around the corner to the kitchen.
“Yes, mother.” I looked at my phone. “It’s after five. Babe should be home soon. What are you fixing for dinner?”
I wadded the ghost costume up and threw it on my bed. Chavvah spoke loud enough from me to hear her from the other room. “I found this great recipe for vegetarian lasagna. It has generous layers of chunky, spicy red sauce, ricotta cheese, cottage cheese, and mozzarella cheese. I’m finishing it off with a toasted pumpkin seed topping. It’s high in protein and low in salt, but still delicious.”
“Great.” No salt. Ugh. It was part of my new diet thanks to the high blood pressure. I heard the can opener churning. “It’s so sweet of you to cook for me, Chav. You really don’t have to you know? Babe’s not a bad cook.”
“Babe can make eggs and grits. You need more than that for a healthy baby.”
Chavvah had been worried about me since Billy Bob put me on bed rest. “You know I’m okay, right?” I walked into the kitchen.
Chav stood at the counter dicing carrots, broccoli, and cauliflower (or what I liked to call fuel for my farts). I took a seat at our new dining room table. It was bar height with tall high back chairs. The table top was a combination of darker and lighter woods. I really liked that I didn’t have to squat to sit in a chair. Even more, I liked that it wasn’t the same table and chairs that I’d been tied to when Randall Lowry, a psycho who’d thought Chav was his destiny, had held me hostage to get to her.
Randall, who’d been born without the ability to shift into animal form, had believed sacrificing my BFF would give him skin walker abilities. His twin brother Chance, who could shift, had been aiding him for years. We found out later that they’d skinned and murdered more than two dozen therianthropes in a four-year period. I still don’t know how they got away with such atrocities for so long.
“Just because it’s nearly under control doesn’t mean you’re out of the woods, chick. You’ve got to keep the diet going. High protein. No salt.”
I waved at her. “Yeah, yeah. You meeting up with our hunky doc tonight?”
Chav smiled, a healthy blush rising in her cheeks. “He wants me to come by his place for some dessert he’s making.”
“Or eating.” I grinned. The baby in my belly kicked. I peed. “Freaking hell.” I grabbed my belly and silently scolded Junior.
“Serves you right.” Chav laughed.
“Hey, Willy Boden is coming down in a couple of days for the Halloween shindig.”
Willy, a fiery, red-headed, freckle-faced bobcat shifter, was the lead security officer for the Tri-State Council. Chav and I had gotten to know her during the TSC Jubilee that Peculiar had hosted in June. The same Jubilee that had brought two serial killers to our town. I’d initially thought she was a cougar since her brother represented the Felidae, or big cats, on the council. Bobcats weren’t that large. They actually looked like oversized domestic cats with wicked cool ears and a bobbed tail. Hence the name.
“Yeah? How come Willy’s coming to visit?”
“Maybe because we’re kick ass women, and everyone wants to be our friends.” Though it had been several months since I’d been able to lift my leg up high enough to even reach an ass.
“True story,” Chav said. “We are pretty tough.”
“And adorable,” I amended.
Chav smiled. “Well, you are, anyhow.” She scooped up the diced veggies and began to sauté them in a hot pan with a little olive oil and minced garlic. The smell had my mouth watering. “It’ll be good to see her.”
The front door opened, and I heard the familiar footfalls of my hot, hunky husband, Babel Trimmel. “Hey, darling. Where you at?” he hollered from the door.
“In the kitchen,” I said. I didn’t have to holler. Babe and Chavvah were both coyote shifters so they could hear me drop a pin from across the room.
“Sorry, I’m late. That damn Evelyn Meyers kept me in a meeting over her beef with Sheriff Taylor,” he said when he came around the corner. He looked startled when he saw me. “Why are you sitting around in your bra and underwear?”
“Because I’m hot,” I said, grabbing a napkin and sopping up boob sweat.
“And gassy,” Chavvah added helpfully. Not.
I glared at her. Babe dipped down and kissed me. His soft lips made my whole body tingle. He’d grown his hair out a little, and his brown hair fell down over his bright blue eyes. He smiled. “You’re beautiful.”
“You knocked me up. You have to say that.”
He kissed me again, this time, very convincingly, and more than my body tingled.
“You guys are gross,” Chavvah said.
“Why is Ev
elyn mad at the sheriff now?” I asked, ignoring my BFF’s protest against PDA. “Other than he married her sister.”
Evelyn was Jean Taylor’s sister. They’d fallen out over Sheriff Taylor thirty years ago. Apparently, the elder sister had designs on the up and coming lawman in town, but he only had eyes for Jean. Boy, that Evelyn sure knew how to carry a grudge. I didn’t have the energy to hate anyone that hard.
“Apparently we have a prankster in town.”
“Pranks?” Chavvah gave me a pointed look. “Like when someone sucks all the jelly out of your donuts and puts them back in the box?”
“What?” I rubbed my belly. “The baby made me do it.”
Babe rubbed my shoulder. “That’s your story, and you’re sticking to it.”
“Damn straight.”
My gorgeous husband laughed, and it was a delicious sound. “It wasn’t quite so harmless. Evelyn’s prankster smeared a stinky slime all over her car, and she swears Sheriff Taylor is responsible.”
“She’d find a way to blame the clouds on that man if she could.” Chav put the pan of food inside the oven. “That woman is a menace.”
That was no lie. “If the sheriff didn’t do it, who did?”
“You’re too pregnant for crime fighting,” Chav said.
“I’m going to change.” Babe kissed my temple. “Be right back.”
Chav gave her brother a quick hug before he left the room. “I have to go too.”
“Oooooo. Are you in a hurry to massage the old spirit stick with Billy Bob?” I asked just to watch her blush.
“Stop it.”
I wiggled my brows. “Going to sweat out those demons?”
“You’re not funny.”
“Are you planning on worshipping at the totem pole?”
Chavah put her hands on both her hips, leaned down to me and asked, “Jealous?”
“A little.” We both laughed. The diagnosis of preeclampsia had meant no sex. At all. Which sucked because, well, I wanted to strip off my husband’s clothes and boink him every time he was near me.