14. Hattie

HATTIE

I take a deep breath as I step out of the creepy Victorian parlor with Cricket tucked in my arms, her eyes narrowed and on red alert.

Let’s go find Clarabelle and Peggy, she mewls. I think it’s time to blow this haunted popsicle stand. Did you see that floating head? I’m starting to think Aunt Winnie is a touch disturbed. I’m going to have nightmares for months.

“You and me both, sister,” I say, trying to shake off the unease from my encounter with Venetta and that talking head—who by the way had a level of wit and sarcasm that assured me we’d be besties if she only had a body. “Keep an eye out for Rookie, too.”

You would, Cricket grouses. Although he’s probably already squeezed his entire fat furry body into one of those watery globes. If that’s the case, I say we pack him up with the rest of the Halloween decorations, come the end of the month. I think I might actually be able to tolerate him for a few weeks, once a year. Of course, we’ll need to rescue Jolly.

I make a face at the fur-faced cutie just as we weave through the dimly lit halls of Willoughby Hall, or Halloween Hollow as it were, which now resembles more of a haunted labyrinth than a mansion, thanks to Winnie’s haunted green thumb when it comes to Halloween decorations.

More cobwebs, more ghostly figures floating in the corners, and more eerie music seeps through the walls, and all of the above makes it virtually impossible to escape the spooky ambiance.

No sooner do we step back into the grand ballroom than I spot Bunny Prescott, my bestie from the country club.

Bunny is a blonde bombshell and a snarky socialite whose father owns half of Manhattan. She’s a man-eater with a penchant for trouble and an eye for all things tall, dark, and handsome.

Money isn’t really required for her boy toys, mostly because she’s got enough of her own. She’s dressed to impress tonight as a sultry vampire slash hunter, complete with a leather corset, knee-high boots, and a crossbow slung over her shoulder. Her face is done up with pale shimmering powder, and she’s donned pointed fangs and has a squiggle of sanguine liquid seeping from the corner of her lips as if she just finished up with a juicy bite from some unsuspecting victim’s neck.

Let’s face it, Bunny doesn’t have victims. She’s got a line of volunteers offering up any and every body part for her biting pleasure.

She laughs as she comes upon us. “Well, if it isn’t Hattie Holiday, the only woman in Brambleberry Bay who plays hide-and-seek with the dead and finds them every time.” She offers me a quick embrace. “Just the Grim Reaper I was looking for.”

“You’re not funny.” I glance past her at the crowd in the room. It’s mostly older women, playing dress up while having high tea. Winnie really does know how to cater to all demographics. It’s truly a gift.

“I’m not trying to be funny. Those octogenarians you like to hang out with have been bragging about your latest kill.”

I suck in a quick breath. “They are not,” I say a touch pained because I’m well aware, they so are.

She lifts a glossy red fingernail my way. “And before I change the subject, those biddies have already put out an all-points bulletin in that murder club group chat of ours. The entire club is a titter. You’re practically a hero. I suppose it’s a good thing you’re keeping the bodies coming. It sounds like the peanut gallery was starting to get bored.”

“Wait, there’s a murder club group chat?”

Cricket looks up at me as if she were stymied by this herself.

“Oh, is it new?” Bunny wrinkles her nose. “I tend to ignore most of my messages anyhow.” She shrugs it off. “Nevertheless, Chevy is already chomping at the bit to sink her claws into the killer. She’ll be a thorn in your side before you know it. But enough about those murderous attention-seeking tactics of yours. Let’s talk about me.”

I frown her way. “Believe me, I’d much rather focus on you. What’s going on?” I ask as she steals Cricket from my arms and nuzzles with her for a moment.

“Oh, Hattie, you have to help me. I absolutely need your assistance. I’m on a mission to scout for vampires, tall, green ogres, or aliens of any variety with hot chests.” She cranes her neck past me. “There has to be some of the above in this crowd.”

A laugh bubbles from me. “I’ll take vampires, ogres, or aliens any day of the week. I just spent the last twenty minutes in a room with Venetta Brandt and the head of a fortuneteller. And between the two, I’d rather spend time with the fortuneteller.”

“Geez.” She inches back. “You really do know how to have a good time. Let me guess, the head was to show Venetta what might happen should she continue to pursue your man? You really do know how to wield a threat. There’s a world full of bodies out there and you’re not afraid to use them to prove your point.”

“For the record, that floating head was my sister’s doing.”

“ Ooh .” Bunny’s shoulder shimmy as she chuckles. “You Holiday girls really know how to keep the fun in the family.” Remind me never to get on their bad side. Come to think of it, I probably shouldn’t get too close to their good side either. The deranged of mind can’t seem to tell the difference. I should know, I’ve slept with more than a handful of them. I’m lucky my head is still intact—and that I’ve yet to be stabbed to death. I’ll have to speak to Hattie about loosening up when it comes to the barbarism. Honestly, there’s an entire slew of nicer ways to die—like being crushed to death under a pile of luxurious couture. I’d pick that as my fate, but I don’t dare tell this one. She’d probably arrange a fashion mishap before Christmas.

I’m back to frowning at her. “What exactly is it that you needed?”

“I have the best idea.” She grabs my arm and her eyes sparkle with excitement. “We should organize a singles mingle event here for Halloween. Can you imagine? It would be the talk of the town.” And I’ll get the pick of the litter. That alone is a good enough reason to keep on good terms with Hattie. Not only will I evade a slaughter, but she can help this huntress hunt down her prey. We’re a match made in heaven, or hell. ’Tis the season.

I raise a brow. “You mean the talk of the country club?” I tease. “Of course, I’ll help.”

“Perfect,” she trills. “I can’t wait to meet an entire slew of sexy yet slightly spooky singles who might actually have a pulse. Unlike some of my exes—and most people you run into.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “Well, I was already planning a Bewitching Ballroom Bash for the country club peeps on Halloween night. We’ll be hosting it here at Halloween Hollow,” I say that last bit in air quotes. “The ballroom at the country club is on the fritz and Peyton approved the facility.”

“Of course, she did. This place reeks of old money.” She kisses Cricket on the forehead as she says it. “Unlike the country club, which has only been around for the last forty years. It won’t truly be in vogue for another sixty years and we’ll be long dead by then, won’t we?” she purrs in Cricket’s ear.

Speak for yourself, Cricket purrs back. Rumor has it, I’ve got nine lives, and if I play my cards right, I’ll expend one a decade, with plenty to spare when the country club celebrates its centennial. But don’t worry, Hattie. I’m sure you’ll be having plenty of fun in Paradise with Rookie. Although it won’t feel too much like Paradise with him around, now will it? She lifts a furry brow my way and I am not amused.

“Don’t worry, Bunny. I’ll talk to Winnie about coordinating a singles mingle in one of the other rooms. That way we can have a variety of men for you to choose from.”

“Two parties in one night?” Bunny’s hips give a little swivel. “Now that’s a monster mash-up I’ll be looking forward to. You’re not inviting the dead, are you?”

“No, but I can’t guarantee there won’t be a killer on the premises. It’ll be a night filled with enchanting elegance, mysterious masks, and maybe even a few surprises.”

Bunny claps her hands together. “It’ll be legendary.” She takes a look around the room and shakes her head in dismay. Good grief, there’s not a lot for Hattie to work with around here. And I’m not even sure the woman knows how to have a good time.

I shoot her a look.

At least not my kind of good time, Bunny muses and I give a reluctant nod because she’s probably right.

“Anyway”—Bunny blows me a kiss—“I’m off to find some hot ogres or aliens to spice up the rest of my day. And I certainly won’t find them in here.” She lands Cricket back in my arms, heads down the dark hall to the right, and disappears without a trace.

I spot Clarabelle and Peggy by the makeshift bar, engaged in what looks like a tug-of-war with a silver fox vampire, so I head on over.

The vampire is a handsome older gentleman with perfectly coiffed white hair and a tailored suit, and he looks both amused and slightly alarmed as the two women pull at him.

Clarabelle holds on to his left arm as if he were a wishbone. “He’s mine, Peggy! I saw him first!”

Peggy tugs at his right arm with equal fervor. “Dream on, you old crow. You couldn’t handle a man like him! Honey, he’s got fangs and he’s not afraid to use them.”

“Who are you calling an old crow?” Clarabelle—for lack of a better word—crows.

The silver fox vampire raises a brow, clearly enjoying the attention despite the fact he’s about to lose both upper extremities. “Ladies, ladies, please, there’s enough of me to go around.”

Cricket snickers. Looks like the vampire is in high demand.

I sigh her way. “Men with both fangs and manners are typically hard to find.”

I’m about to intervene just as Clarabelle gives a hard yank, then Peggy gives a firm tug, and the poor dapper gent lands face-first onto the floor.

The entire room gasps at the sight as the lights flicker and the spooky mood music seems to turn up a notch.

The man tries to stand just as Peggy takes a swing at Clarabelle and the man ducks to miss it and ends up on all fours.

“All aboard,” Peggy calls out as she hops onto his back and spurs him in the ribs with her heels. “Go on, big boy. Let’s get out of this hellhole and head to my place where we can have some real F-U-N.”

“Oh no, you don’t,” Clarabelle shouts as she plucks a parasol right out of a woman’s hand and jabs it at the two of them.

The poor man howls as he makes his way to the door at lightning speeds with Peggy holding on to his back shouting, “ Giddy-up, you blood-suckin’ cowboy! ”

The entire room is stuck in a cycle of gasps and screams.

“Those two are such a treat,” I say just as Rookie comes back and my phone goes off.

I check the screen and it’s a text from my hot detective boyfriend.

Killion: Rumor has it, they make a mean corn dog in Halloween Hollow. I’m heading home for the day. You up for an early dinner?

Hattie: I just so happen to be in the middle of that nightmare. You had me at corn dog. See you soon.

“Welp, kids,” I say, giving Rookie a quick pat, “the day is about to get a whole lot more delicious. Who’s up for an early dinner?”

Rookie gives a sharp bark.

A giant cauldron filled with fun-size Halloween treats catches my eye.

“But first, candy.”

Who says I don’t know how to have a good time? When it comes to food, I’m a ball.

And when it comes to homicide, I seem to rank pretty high on the suspect list myself.

What can I say?

It’s a gift.