“You two look pretty great yourselves, even without make-up,” Joe told them.
And Steve—or Eddy Canton—did look great. He didn’t need make-up, not in his full werewolf regalia which included a head piece with working jaws.
Rowdy looked like a deranged farmer in a torn-up flannel shirt and jeans.
“Thanks. You must see it with my face all blackened and browned in, really eerie,” Steve said.
“I need my chainsaw to be complete,” Rowdy said grinning. “Well, see you after,” he said.
They went on out where Gail, Marvin, and Lance were waiting for them.
“Time for the family to get on over to the house,” Lance said. “Ooh, Devilla—you are wicked!”
Wicked.
A term used because they were working in a horror-themed park?
Or because it was common vernacular in Louisiana?
She was suspicious of everyone, Keri thought.
Then again, she was supposed to be.
She glanced at Joe. She knew what he was thinking. It was going to be damned interesting when they were able to bring Jillian face to face with Steve—or Eddy—and Janice—or Francie Dumont.
“Yep, the night is young, but darkness is coming on. My dear family, let’s head out,” she said cheerfully.
They slipped out the back.
She glanced through some of the rigging as they passed rides and kiosks to reach the Murder House.
People were already lined up.
Halloween was closing in on them. Tonight, tomorrow night . . .
And God help them, they needed answers by then.
***
Purgatory Puppy! What a cute big-little girl. She was old enough . . . petite, energetic, adorable.
And her eyes . . .
He had to admit, he had a thing for eyes. And her eyes weren’t as great as those belonging to Devilla Dolly, but . . . they were good. Of course, he needed his choices approved.
No, he didn’t. He ran this. There would be one, always one . . .
The first to go, however, was going to have be the “oh, so studly” Count Rapier. Otherwise, he’d be in the way. And this was so close to Halloween.
So close to those eyes . . .
Every time she looked at him, he felt an anticipation almost as great as the pleasure he would soon receive. Almost as great . . . but, no. There would be nothing like watching her as she watched him.
And oh, so soon . . .
Halloween.
Cops could crawl all over the place. He would watch and . . .
It would be oh, so delicious!
Cops . . . agents. The FBI was in on this now. Didn’t matter. They think they are so smart. They didn’t know all they thought they knew. They were creatures who read books . . . who studied killers . . . and who thought they knew everything.
They would do all the usual things.
But he wasn’t usual.
And Halloween . . .
Like all days, it went on for twenty-four hours.
Yes, he had twenty-four hours.
All he had to do was to make sure everything was synced. Then, he’d have those eyes. He’d have those eyes, and he’d see the way they changed when she realized she was his.
This time, he might take a trophy or two.
Chapter 8
In general, Joe liked people. Maybe odd, as he’d worked with many cops who seemed to have their life now fit their personality. Then again, he was friends with Ken Terry, one of the main community liaison agents in the D.C. area, and he’d been there one day when they’d had a symposium for a group of journalists.
“We need people. We need the average man to like us, respect us—and want to help us,” Ken had told him. “If people don’t think of the FBI as decent, if not warm and cuddly, we’d never get the help we need from the law-abiding public. It’s not such a bad thing to look for the good in people first—they look for the good back.”
So maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing he was having a good time as he played his role of Count Rapier. The downstairs belonged to him, Marvin and several motion-activated creepy things, and it was fun to see people when they realized the two of them were real. It was fun to chat with people as they came through. He and Marvin seemed to have achieved a natural rhythm, taking turns with their startling movements; and he had it best, he got to talk.
And he found that talking helped his cause.
There were guests who came for just one night. There were guests who held “season passes,” and that left him curious about the way the killer chose his victims.
Were they random? Happenstance? Easy to grab when the night was over?
Or did the killer stalk them as they came, night after night, or at least several times over the season?
Joe chatted, he teased. He welcomed people, smiling, showing his fangs.
Not so bad. And he heard squeals of delight, so he knew Keri, Gail, and Lance Devin were doing just fine upstairs, too.
Eventually, the night came to an end. Gail ran down the stairs when the last guest was out, pulling her Purgatory Puppy headpiece off her head and crying out, “Over! Over for the night!” She laughed when she saw Joe and Marvin looking at her. “Sorry. Hey, there were a few cute guys in the mix tonight. One was going to pet and cuddle me—which would have been fine—until I showed him my best face. Now, there’s a dude I’d like to meet later.”
“You never know. Maybe he’ll show up at Sam’s Shrimp Shack,” Marvin said encouragingly.
“Yeah, that’s the bad. No way to see where a relationship might go when you’re busy being a demented puppy,” Gail said.
Keri and Lance, deep in discussion, followed her down the stairs.
“What’s up?” Marvin asked.
“I was telling Keri I’d heard about a horrible event at a place like ours several years ago,” Lance said. “A crazy person killed a bunch of kids there—and fed them to the pigs.”
“Oh, lord,” Gail said. “You didn’t tell me about that, Lance.”
“Because you’re scared of your own shadow, Gail. And we’re good in here; we stick together. We leave together; we go to Sam’s together when we’re done. But that’s why I think we need to continue to stick together. Except the news thing I saw it on said it happened four years ago. We should be okay.”
“Sticking together sounds like a really good plan,” Joe murmured, “Four years ago or not. And that being said, let’s head to costuming and get this stuff off.”
“And then on to Sam’s Shrimp Shack—together,” Gail said. “And one of you buggers will walk me to my car after.”
“Of course,” Lance said.
As they continued to the costume tent heading out the back way, they ran into Gordon just as it seemed they always did.
Gail linked arms with him, saying, “Gordon! Oh, my God! Lance saw a news cast on a really bad event that took place at a park like ours one Halloween a few years back.”
“Yeah?” Gordon had been wearing his turban; he looked at Lance as he unwound it. “There have been tons of bad things that have happened on Halloween. Brings out the crazies.” He was silent a minute. “I remember that Halloween,” he added quietly. “I’ve tried not to remember it.”
“You remember it?” Gail asked, stunned.
Gordon nodded. “I was doing my magician thing at that park that year. It was my first year, and I was long gone the night it occurred . . . I wasn’t a headless horseman back then, just a wandering magician. The park closed for the year when the . . . uh . . . bodies were discovered.” He was quiet for a moment; everyone stared at him.
He easily admitted to being there, Joe thought. Did that mean anything?
“Wow!” Marvin said.
“You—you never told us anything about it,” Lance said.
Gordon shook his head. “Why? What was I going to say? Stop Halloween? Bad stuff has happened on Halloween all over, and you never know where the crazy person might be. I talked to our boss about it. He said he
has the night covered, security up the kazoo. I never said anything because . . . because I didn’t want to scare people or get fired myself for scaring people and making them quit. I mean . . . they’ve opened the park in Massachusetts again and nothing has happened there. I . . . I try not to let myself be paranoid. I need to make a living, and I’m a magician—a pretty good one. I can get gigs at clubs during the year, but Halloween parks give me a guaranteed income for a while, and that lets me get through any of the tough times. I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to keep bad news to myself. I just didn’t see any reason to make you all scared. You could leave here and work at a retail store—and a madman could walk in with a gun,” he said.
“Gordon, it’s okay. At least, I understand,” Gail said. She tried to smile. “I mean, we’re all kind of crazy doing this, right? But pretend crazy. Oh, my God, I’ve never thought I needed to be afraid, working at a theme park.”
Gordon draped his turban around her shoulders. “We don’t have to be afraid. We’ve got each other.”
“And,” Lance added, “it wasn’t the people working at the park who were killed—it was people who came to the park. Right, Gordon?”
Gordon nodded glumly. “I never met those who were . . .”
“Killed,” Joe finished flatly for him.
“I think more stuff has happened at parks—bad stuff. They put news briefs out all the time when it gets toward Halloween, warning parents to be careful with their kids,” Marvin said.
“Trick or Treat just isn’t what it used to be,” Gordon said. “Although I guess murdering people is one hell of a trick, right? Oh, God, that sounded terrible! But—I don’t know if you saw it or not—Boss Man posted a big notice at the gate. Come in groups, stay with your group, report any kind of behavior that seems suspicious in any way.”
“Man, that’s tough. I mean, I’m a demented puppy,” Gail said. “And you, Joe, you want to drink everyone’s blood. How would anyone know suspicious from suspicious?”
Joe was surprised everyone was looking at him—including Keri.
He offered them a grim smile and looked at each of them in return.
“The thing is, remember common sense. We have a benefit—we’re characters. If someone acts suspicious, we need to remember to tell security, get it out to someone,” he said. “I mean, honestly, that’s what kind of gets to me. Stuff happens, but . . . well, there are people around. In Massachusetts, how did the bastard stay in the park? With no one seeing him?”
Marvin laughed. “Oh, Joe, if you wanted, you’d get away with staying in the park. Are you kidding? There are a dozen places to hide. You could slide out of one of the little carriages in the Hell’s Bells ride. You could probably even stand there as a scare prop, and people might not notice.”
“You could hide in the graveyard,” Gail said thoughtfully.
“Or even in our Murder House,” Marvin added. “I mean, think about it. There are no locks. We leave, and if anyone was hanging around, skulking behind the rides or machinery, they could slip right in whenever they wanted.”
They had reached the costume tent.
“Good points; think we should talk to Mel Jenkins about this? Whatever it takes, he needs to get a count somehow of how many people come into the park—and how many leave. But Keri and I happened to be in there when he was talking to a local cop. I know on Halloween night, this place will be crawling with security and cops.”
They all slipped through the flap one by one. Belinda was hanging up a costume as they entered. She looked at Joe, and he knew she had heard his last words.
“Is something wrong, my young darlings?” she asked them.
“No, we’re fine. We just heard about some real horror stories,” Gail said.
“And Joe is keeping us firmly on the ground,” Gordon added.
“Oh? Tell me.”
Brian came stepping out from the back as if he, too, had heard something and was worried.
“You saw the news last night?” he asked, looking at the group. “About that maniac in Massachusetts?”
“Yes,” Marvin said. “Well, Lance was watching, and he shared with us.”
“It’s never bad to be smart, alert, and wary,” Brian said, nodding thoughtfully.
“Wait, wait, wait! What—” Belinda began.
“It’s okay, it was long ago and far away,” Gail said.
Belinda set her hands on her hips. “Not so good! Brian and I are the last ones out of here many a night. Well, not the last. Mel Jenkins keeps two security officers on all the time. But still . . .”
“It’s a big park,” Gordon finished.
“Okay, pact, we all make sure at least three or four of us are together leaving here all the time,” Gordon said.
“I’m going to talk to Mel. I think every employee should do more than just leave. We should all check in with one of those security officers when we’re off,” Keri said. “That way, if any of the staff is missing, at least the officers will know.”
“Great plan,” Gordon said. “We’ll get to Jenkins first thing tomorrow.”
That said, he happily grabbed his clothing and headed for the little curtained changing area.
“I’m still here and nervous now. Keri, sweetie, come on back and I’ll get that make-up off of you,” Brian said.
“Yeah, you guys change first. I’m going to head to the back and get some wipes and get this stuff off my face, too,” Joe said.
He didn’t know why; he didn’t like the way Brian Mayfield seemed to pick on Keri for special treatment.
She could take care of herself, especially with an over-zealous make-up man, he knew.
Still . . .
He followed her back, using one of the big piles of make-up removing wipes while Brian set Keri down to tend to her.
“You are just the best evil doll ever,” Brian said, working industriously at the black lines on Keri’s face.
“Thanks,” Keri told him. “Although, I guess you could really take off as the night dies down. It’s great you stay around, Brian.”
Joe listened, standing at one of the mirrors, wiping his own face.
“Belinda is an old sweetie,” Brian said. “I hang around to see she gets out safely. I always did that before what I just heard.”
“That’s so sweet of you,” she said.
He knew he would be having Angela check and double-check on Brian. He might be just a slightly weird guy with an obsession with Keri.
He didn’t like people being obsessive when it came to Keri. Not anyone at all.
“Hey, just raised right, I think,” Brian said lightly. “You okay over there, Joe?”
“I am, thanks.”
Keri was done; she sprang up. When they went out front, the gang of actors were all there.
They were discussing the Halloween murders that had taken place in Massachusetts. So far, no one had mentioned what had happened in California or Arizona.
He wondered if, now that all the inter-state connections had been made, more hadn’t come out. And he wondered, too, at the wisdom of not putting out more strenuous warnings here. He knew all the law enforcement agencies wanted this stopped here and now.
But at what risk?
There was a lot of chatter. Marvin asked them to wait just a few more seconds once they were out of costume.
They’d all walk out together.
Everyone agreed, and finally as a large group they walked out waving to the security officer at the exit.
“Okay, everyone, see you at Sam’s,” Gail called, climbing into the driver’s seat of her little sports car.
Keri had her phone out, even as she buckled her seatbelt.
She apparently knew he was watching her.
“Calling Angela,” she said.
“Right.”
He was glad to hear her tell Angela about Brian—came better from her he thought. He didn’t have to sound like an overzealous defender.
“I’m curious about Belinda, too,” Keri said, and she gl
anced at Joe. “What’s Belinda’s last name?” she asked.
He paused, thinking. “I don’t think we heard. She was such a grandma I guess we didn’t think that much about it.”
Angela must have assured her she’d find out because Keri listened and then said, “Also, Gordon told us tonight he’d been a magician at the park in Massachusetts. He said he’d never mentioned it because he didn’t want to scare people.”
“You know, you might have hit speakerphone,” Joe said.
She winced and did so immediately.
“I’ll get on all of them,” Angela said. “And tomorrow, we’ll have Jillian there. With her young NOLA agent, and someone near and dear to you both—Jackson will be there with her.”
“Great!” Keri said.
“Tomorrow morning,” Joe said. “I want to get into the park. I want a chance to really see the graveyard and the haunted hayride.”
“Jackson is there, in the city, already. He’s met Detective Coley, and he’s gone to see Jillian, too. All is moving forward,” Angela said. “He’ll be there at nine. He won’t bring Jillian then; she’ll come later. We’ll give her a few face to face sessions with those she knew in the past, and then give her a chance to see anyone we might not have on our radar.” Angela explained.
They thanked her and ended the call. Just in time, they’d reached Sam’s Shrimp Shack.
***
Keri had been disturbed by Brian’s overly enthusiastic attention to her. She wondered if she was being alert and smart—or paranoid.
Because the way Gordon kept looking at her bothered her, too.
She liked to think she was just being smart and alert—not paranoid.
They easily gathered around the table, all happy to see the great waitress they’d had the night before. She seemed happy to see them, too.
Apparently, killer among them or not, they all tipped decently.
When she was gone, Lance sighed.
“You know, I’ve loved this. Loved it! Being at the house as a silly skeleton is so much fun. I love people and I’ve always loved Halloween. Why is there always some horrible maniac who must ruin everything?”
“Lance, give it a break,” Gordon said.
Horror-Ween (Krewe of Hunters) Page 8