Chapter 22

The night air crackles as darkness descends upon us, casting its spell of mystery over all of Honey Hollow.

It's officially Tuesday, which just so happens to be Halloween and the deadline for me to produce two corpses for my Uncle Jimmy, or come midnight, I'll turn into a corpse myself.

After a long day at the bakery passing out haunted treats for the last six hours, I packed up my pooches and headed over to the haunted house on the water to round out my day.

The sun is setting and the sky is lit up in shades of pink and purple. I sent Cooper a text and asked him to dinner. And he messaged back that he was already on his way.

The Tavern of Terror is pulsing with an eerie energy as I step onto the patio, now transformed into a makeshift graveyard.

The canopy of purple twinkle lights shimmer in the breeze as fog from dry ice swirls at our feet. The music is loud and perfectly spooky, and the scent of something delicious sizzling from the grill makes my olfactory senses sit up and beg for more. If that wasn't wicked enough, every now and again someone belts out the occasional blood-curdling scream from the haunted house behind me.

I say hello to Naomi's head on a platter as she passes me by. I really need to find out how she's doing that. It's not just the stuff that nightmares are made of, I'm thinking I can make a few bucks off a stunt like that, too.

But I'm not headless tonight. In fact, I'm decked out in my best vampire attire, complete with a flowing black cape and fake fangs that threaten to fall out every time I open my blood-red lips. Not to mention I've donned a pair of killer glittery heels in a shade of blood-red that threaten to break my neck with every step, or with my luck a hip or two.

Watson and Spooky, my faithful furry friends, are dressed as a vampire and a ghost, respectively, and their costumes seem to elicit a chuckle from all who pass us by.

I'm about to hunt down Loretta and say hello, or boo as it were, but before I can hunt and peck for the Black Widow in question, I spot a couple of witches I know all too well.

"You do realize you're supposed to wear a costume tonight," I tease as I come upon Aunt Cat and Carlotta.

They're dressed to the nines in matching witchy attire. Aunt Cat's pointed hat threatens to topple over with her every move, while Carlotta's broomstick fashioned out of twigs and branches adds an extra air of authenticity to her ensemble. Come to think of it, she's probably too authentic.

"Costumes are overrated," Aunt Cat quips while giving my sweet pooches a scratch. "We're all about keeping it real." She gives me a once-over. "I thought vampires only came out at night."

"It'll be dark in less than six seconds," I counter. "Besides, I couldn't resist the chance to mingle with the monsters." And by monsters, I mean killers. I crane my neck into the blossoming crowd of costumed characters as if I knew the exact monster I was looking for.

Carlotta smirks. "Speaking of monsters, have you seen the lineup at the bar? I think I spotted Frankenstein and his bride making out in the corner."

I glance that way and gasp. "I recognize that demented bride. It's Niki!"

"Darn tootin' it is," Aunt Cat sniffs with pride. "I taught that girl all of her demented moves."

"And you got those moves by watching me." Carlotta pins a greedy grin to her face. "So how's the investigation going, Eff? Any new leads?"

I cast a quick glance around before responding. "Not much progress. But I'm hoping to speak with Cooper's sister tonight. I have a feeling she knows more than she's letting on."

Carlotta's gaze sharpens as she leans in close. "Loretta the Black Widow Lazzari seems like a prime suspect in this whole nightmare. How many husbands has she gone through now? She practically has a revolving door at the family crypt."

"She certainly had a motive, that's for sure. I mean, the guy was stepping out on her best friend. That's enough for any woman worth her bestie salt to pick up a weapon. But I'll need more than speculation to pin anything on her."

"True," Aunt Cat says with a sigh. "It'd be a heck of a lot easier if the deceased was another one of her dead husbands."

Carlotta shrugs. "Then Coop could turn his head the other way once again and file this as another cold case."

I make a face. "As much as I hate to admit it, that might be true."

We part ways, and I'm about to take my pooches and head over to Niki to make sure she's a willing participant in that lip-lock since ol' Frankie there seems to have one heck of a death grip on her when I stumble upon an odd sight that stops me dead in my tracks.

There in the midst of the Halloween chaos stands none other than the Black Widow herself, decked out in a little red dress that screams danger and poor taste. It's low-cut down the front, high-cut up the back, and she has enough hot pink gems and pearls roped around her neck to fill a treasure chest. She's donned the pointy horns once again, along with the pointy tail, and looks just as devilish as the night I met her.

But what catches my eye even more is the scene unfolding before me.

Trick-or-treat, things are about to get scary.