by Krista Davis
I transferred the cheeses to a pot, along with milk, butter, and chopped onion, and stirred while it all melted together.
The knocker at the door sounded. “Keep cooking. I’m starved.” Bernie hurried to the foyer. He returned in seconds with June.
Stripping off gloves, June asked, “Where’s Jen? Is she all right? I came as soon as I got her message.”
“I’m sorry if she scared you, June.” I had no sooner spoken than Jen, Vegas, and Daisy charged into the kitchen, followed by a slower and tired Mars.
“Mom!” He kissed his mother on the cheek. “Wow, you’re cold.”
Bernie took her coat and hung it up in the foyer closet while June settled in a fireside chair.
“What’s the problem, Jen, dear?” She gazed around at us. “Or would you rather we spoke privately?”
“It’s okay if everyone hears, Gramma June.” Jen spied the picture in Humphrey’s hands. “May I?” She handed it to June.
“These old photos bring back so many wonderful memories. Ugh. There’s that crazy bat Viktor always wore.”
“What we want to know is—how can Maggie be in that picture?” Jen leaned over June’s shoulder.
“Sweetie, that’s not Maggie. It’s Peggy Zane, the woman Viktor killed.” A tiny shudder rippled through June’s shoulders. “He must have been planning her demise even then.”
Everyone except me clustered close to June for another look at the picture.
I poured the cheese mixture over the elbow noodles, spooned it into individual ramekins, and slid them all into the oven on a tray.
“They’re the spitting image of each other!” Nina frowned at me. “Stick Maggie in that dress and do her hair in a 1960s flip and you couldn’t possibly tell them apart.”
Vegas droned somberly, “We think Maggie is a vampire. She returned to Old Town, and now Viktor is back, too, looking for her.”
It took every ounce of willpower I could muster not to scream. I inhaled deeply to calm myself and spoke as quietly as possible. I had to be the voice of reason.
“Vegas, Jen, I know we’ve been having a lot of fun with the haunted house. It’s fabulous to imagine giant spiders and zombies and werewolves, and yes, vampires. But those things don’t really exist.” I flashed a look of warning at June and hoped she understood that I needed her to back me up. “Vampires are creatures of our imaginations. They’re fun in movies and books, but just like talking rabbits and flying pigs, they’re only make-believe. Maggie is not a vampire.”
“What about Viktor Luca?” Vegas looked to June for an answer.
I jumped in before June had a chance. There was no telling what she might say. “Viktor was an odd man who apparently killed someone and then took off. He wasn’t a vampire.”
June’s lips drew into a tight line. “I suppose you’re going to say Faye’s ghost doesn’t exist?”
Good grief. Couldn’t she cut me a break? Ghosts weren’t the problem. All eyes were on me. What could I say? I suspected that Faye’s presence was in my house. More specifically right above June’s head. Faye’s portrait often swung to a cant for no reason. Living in this old house had opened my mind to the possibility of ghosts. If I agreed to the possibility of ghosts, though, it would undercut my argument against vampires. Not to mention that if I declared that ghosts didn’t exist, I would insult June, who was convinced that she could speak with her deceased sister, Faye, in my kitchen.
“Nonsense.” To my surprise, it was Humphrey who spoke up in his textbook matter-of-fact way. “One cannot compare ghosts with vampires. Ghosts are ethereal, most likely existing on another plane. While their existence is a subject of debate, there are logical theories explaining the phenomenon. Vampires, to the contrary, are completely fabricated. To start with, there’s the issue of immortality, which is physically impossible. While people may choose to drink blood, there is no scientific basis for believing that it has any impact on their longevity and may frequently be the cause of death since they would be subject to the various diseases of their victims.”
Were Vegas and Jen buying his explanation? They both looked pensive.
“How do you explain the fact that June saw a mausoleum with Viktor’s name on it and that he had died a hundred years before?” Vegas locked her eyes on Humphrey.
“That’s a very old trick. People often assume names of the dead when they wish to conceal their identities. Viktor probably saw the name and liked it. He undoubtedly thought himself clever for giving the cemetery as his address in Paris.”
I shot a very grateful smile at Humphrey. He puffed up his chest, proud of himself.
While the others talked about Viktor, I checked on the macaroni and cheese. The aroma that wafted into the kitchen brought groans from my friends. Jen jumped up to set the table, and Daisy promptly sat at the island counter and offered me a paw.
“Too hot, Daisy. You have to wait.” As though she understood, she wagged her tail across the floor but didn’t budge.
I’d never seen everyone move so fast. I didn’t have to ask anyone to help. Nina took drink orders, and Humphrey delivered them to the table. Mars donned oven mitts to deliver a piping hot ramekin to each place setting, and everyone took their seats.
“You act like you haven’t eaten all day.” I placed a napkin in my lap.
Their mouths were too full to respond.
Amid appreciative murmurs and occasional chatter about vampires, the mac and cheese disappeared. Vegas, Jen, Daisy, and Mars even licked their bowls.
Vegas smacked her lips. “Mars, do you think Natasha would notice if we came over here for real food once in a while?”
“I think we should try. We could tell her we’ve joined a fish lure tying league so she wouldn’t come with us.” Mars stretched and rubbed Daisy’s head.
“Maybe you should suggest that Natasha vary her menu to include the things you like to eat.”
Bernie, Vegas, and Mars burst into uncontrolled laughter at my suggestion. It didn’t really come as a shock. Natasha might have told Karl that I was difficult, but she was the one who was unbending. I’d hoped that Vegas’s living with Mars and Natasha might force Natasha to consider someone else’s needs. Apparently not.
Humphrey helped me wash the dishes while Bernie, Mars, and Daisy walked June home. We all chuckled about Mars donning a coat over his pajamas for the little excursion. The girls weren’t happy when I asked for their cell phones, but I wasn’t taking any chances on middle-of-the-night texting. On Bernie and Mars’s return, we hit the sack with a full house.
I woke from a deep sleep when Daisy jumped off my bed. Her heavy paws pounded down the wooden stairs, and I became conscious of scuffling noises under my window. I dragged myself from bed, opened the window, and looked out. Two people appeared to be fighting in front of my house. Unless I was mistaken, one grabbed the other from behind, much as the killer had attacked me.
TWENTY-THREE
Dear Sophie,
I’m supposed to bring a cake to my son’s school for a Halloween celebration. It’s a money-raising function and while all the other mommies are domestic divas, I don’t bake. I’ve been warned not to bring a store-bought cake. What’s a mom to do?
—Desperate in Ding Dong, Texas
Dear Desperate,
Get out the Ding Dongs and make a haunted house. No baking required. Use graham crackers, gummy worms, candy corn, licorice—go wild in the candy aisle. Mini chocolate bars make great roofing tiles, and don’t forget to include a few marshmallow ghosts. Use royal icing as glue. I’m willing to bet your “cake” will be the most popular!
—Sophie
I shot down the stairs and opened the front door. Daisy galloped out and barked but didn’t jump on the killer as she had before. Hoping he would be afraid and run, I flicked on the outdoor lights and shouted, “I’m calling the police!”
“I’m on it!” Nina ran down the stairs and headed toward the kitchen telephone.
Maybe I didn’t have the strength to wres
tle the killer to the ground and keep him here until the police arrived, but this time I was determined to be able to identify him. I dashed for a flashlight and flew back. Training it on the head of the attacker, I realized with a shock that Humphrey rode someone piggyback. Someone who staggered around flailing his arms as though barely able to take slender Humphrey’s weight. Humphrey clung tenaciously to the person, who was dressed in black all the way up to the stocking cap he wore, concealing his hair.
Just as I was contemplating whether I should join the brawl to stop it, the groans and utterances began to sound familiar.
“Help! Sophie, don’t just stand there. Help me!” A woman’s voice.
Moving cautiously, I scooted to the other side of them and aimed my flashlight at the face of the person in black. “Natasha?”
“Get him off me!”
When Humphrey loosened his grip, Natasha grabbed his arm and flipped him onto the ground on his back. She applied her running-shoe-clad foot to his neck.
“Natasha!” I flicked the light on Humphrey’s face so she could see him. “It’s only Humphrey.”
She was breathing so heavily, I wasn’t sure she heard me. It must have taken a moment to register with her. “He jumped me from behind.”
I reached out to Humphrey and helped him stand up.
He whacked the back of his pajama pants with his hands. “You were unlocking the door! What were you doing snooping and trying to sneak into the house? Sophie, she was going from window to window, peering in. I thought she was Patrick’s killer looking for you.”
Natasha straightened her oversized black sweatshirt.
“You are dressed like a cat burglar. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you all in black.” I’d never seen her hair stuffed under anything, either. It was always perfectly coiffed.
Nina stood in the doorway holding Mochie. “I’ve cancelled the cops.”
“Where’s Mars?” demanded Natasha.
“Upstairs, asleep.” Couldn’t she just have called him instead of coming over in the dead of night?
“You couldn’t come up with a better lie than that? He’s clearly not here.”
“See for yourself.” I gestured toward the house. If she insisted on waking him, that was her business.
Natasha pushed past Nina and floated up the stairs with the grace of a beauty queen.
Humphrey and I retreated to the kitchen with Nina. I preheated the oven and scrounged in the freezer for a midnight snack.
Nina set Mochie on the window seat. “What’s your preferred poison, Humphrey?”
“Poison? I didn’t do anything wrong. I was trying to protect Sophie.”
Nina shook her head in mock dismay. “A drink, Humphrey. I’ll fix you a drink.”
“Oh! Hot tea would be nice.”
Nina spluttered and disappeared into the foyer.
I imagined she was on her way to fetch liquor, so I filled the kettle with water and set it on the stove to heat. “Are you okay? Need a bandage or anything?” I popped sliced frozen Quadruple Chocolate Chip Cookie dough into the oven.
Humphrey pulled back his pajama sleeves and examined his arms. “Just bruised, I think.”
“What happened?”
Nina returned with her recent favorite—butterscotch schnapps—as well as bottles of rum and Godiva chocolate liqueur. She helped herself to cordial glasses and set them on the table.
Humphrey massaged his neck. “I think Natasha has lost her mind. I woke to the sound of eerie scratching on the sliding glass door to the family room. I thought it was branches or leaves and didn’t pay much attention at first. Then I remembered about the killer and looked over just in time to see her hunched over and sneaking toward the backyard. Naturally, in the dark I couldn’t tell who it was. I thought the murderer had arrived to do you in. So I crept to the sunroom and watched her. I thought she was a man. She turned, ran back through the service alley, and peered into the bay window in the kitchen. I let myself out the kitchen door, tiptoed toward her, and jumped her when she tried to unlock your front door.”
“Thank you so much, muttonhead. I’m going to be sore for a week.” Natasha strode into the kitchen, pulled off her cap, and sat down at the kitchen table.
“Godiva?” Nina twisted the top off the bottle.
“Please.” Natasha glared at Humphrey.
“Did you find Mars?” I poured herbal cinnamon apple spice tea into the black Halloween mugs for all of us.
“Yes.” She didn’t sound happy about it.
“Sound asleep, I guess?” I arranged the cookies on a platter and placed it in the middle of the table, along with napkins.
“That man could sleep through an erupting volcano. We’d find him the next day like the people in Pompeii, covered in lava.”
Why did I suspect that she was trying to avoid the subject of her midnight raid?
“Well?” Nina swallowed a bite of cookie and leaned toward her. “Are you going to tell us why you’re dressed like a ninja warrior?”
Natasha sat back in her chair and tented her fingers over her nose and mouth. She huffed a heavy sigh. “Mars is having an affair with Maggie Bennett.”
I almost spewed my tea. “Why on earth would you think that?”
“A woman knows, Sophie. He took her home after Patrick was killed. He didn’t have to do that. He should have stayed with me, to comfort me. And I have come to the sad conclusion that her appearance at my party as Morticia Addams was no coincidence. She knew he would be dressed as Morticia’s husband, Gomez.”
“I hardly think—”
She interrupted me. “He’s entirely too happy. He keeps making excuses to be out of the house, like that nonsense about having to work on the haunted house.”
“Actually,” I said, “that’s true. It was part of the deal.”
Her eyes tightened and her mouth worked into an angry slash. “I know he’s with her. I just can’t catch them together.”
“In that case, shouldn’t you be over at Maggie’s house, sneaking around her yard?” Nina plucked another cookie off the plate.
“I went there first. That house is impossible to see into. She bricked off the service alley on the side of the house, and there’s no alley in back whatsoever. I had to go one street back, guess where her house might be on the block, and sneak through some stranger’s yard only to find there’s a huge brick fence separating the backyards of the properties. Maggie’s house is like a fortress.”
Natasha broke off a thumbnail-sized piece of cookie and popped it into her mouth. “Then I thought Mars would be sleeping in your family room, and that if I could see in and the sofa sleeper was empty, I would know he wasn’t here.”
“Maybe you’re just wrong about Mars having an affair.” I swallowed a large gulp of butterscotch schnapps and hoped it would calm me enough to sleep. Natasha’s pronouncement, not to mention my own feelings of guilt, had set every hair on my head on edge.
“How long have you known me?” Natasha’s eyes flashed a stormy warning. “I am never wrong.”
Halloween morning blew in with a vicious wind that howled at the windows. Gray skies accented bare tree limbs that reached up like the gnarled fingers of witches. I slid into a fuzzy purple bathrobe, snuggly and warm, yet shapeless and unattractive, which would be best if Mars was up and about. No one was stirring yet. Glad for the time alone, I fed Daisy and Mochie and put on toasted praline coffee and turkey sausages that made my mouth water the second they hit the pan and sizzled.
I poured a mug of coffee and did a head count for Jen’s birthday party. Seventeen people at least. Taking advantage of the quiet, I mixed a double batch of Jen’s favorite chocolate cake—eggs, flour, butter, melted bittersweet chocolate—poured it into two sheet-cake pans and one small round pan, and slid them into the oven to bake.
I had just closed the oven door when Mars came in, rubbing his hands as though he was cold.
I poured a mug of coffee for him and, instead of adding milk and sugar the way he liked i
t, set sugar and milk on the table along with spoons. Maybe it was silly of me, but I didn’t want to encourage him in even the tiniest manner. It felt like a betrayal, even if Natasha had lured him away from me once. Besides, there was Wolf to think about. In the chaos of the moment, with a killer on the loose, I wasn’t in a place where I wanted to choose between Mars and Wolf. Maintaining the status quo seemed wisest.
Mars struck a fire in the fireplace, and happily, Humphrey woke and staggered into the kitchen, stretching and making unpleasant faces. “Your Natasha can inflict some serious damage when she flips a man onto the ground.”
“Natasha?” Mars continued poking at tiny flames to encourage them.
Humphrey took the mug of coffee I offered and rubbed his shoulder. “I believe I need to see a chiropractor. She was here last night. You slept through the whole thing. Seems she thinks you’re having an affair with Maggie.”
Trust Humphrey to launch into exactly the subject I wanted to avoid. To my utter surprise, Mars didn’t react at all, except to smile.
“You’re not worried?” asked Humphrey.
“She’s just insecure. Last week I had an affair with a woman who works in the back of the bakery. She’s probably a very nice woman, but she’s fifteen years older than me, and I’ve never seen her without a hairnet. The week before it was the mayor’s wife.”
“Why don’t you marry Natasha already?” Humphrey spooned more sugar into his coffee.
My eyes met Mars’s with dread.
“I guess I’m not ready to take that plunge, old man.” Mars smacked Humphrey on the back in a very masculine motion and joined him at the table.
I avoided Mars’s gaze and busied myself slicing apples for a maple syrup and apple french bread casserole for Jen’s birthday breakfast. Her mother had left a list of instructions that would keep Jen happy all day, and it began with her favorite breakfast.