28. Hattie

HATTIE

I follow Venetta through the crowded ballroom, dodging headless holograms and partygoers alike. The creepy music and laughter fade into the background as I focus on her red dress swishing through the throngs.

She slips out the side door, and I quicken my pace, finally catching up to her in the dimly lit hallway where a couple of wall sconces in the shape of candy apples give off a ruby shimmer. On closer inspection, those candy apples are dripping in what looks like white frosting, and the frosting just so happens to have wicked faces etched into them.

Oh my word, those are adorable.

I’ll have to ask Winnie where she got them. Decorating really is her superpower.

I glance over and my number one suspect has all but fled the scene.

“ Venetta ,” I call out, my voice echoing off the stone walls as I run to catch up with her. “Hold on a second.”

She turns, eyes narrowing as she sees me.

“Hattie?” She makes a face as if she’s about to be sick. Why is this gnat always in my way when I’m about to get some dirt on my future? She cranes her neck past me toward the parlor which happens to have purple plumes of fog seeping from it. Drats, there’s a line to see Madame Violet tonight.

“Off to see Madame Violet, Seer of Secrets—Peeker into the Future?” I tease just to see if she’d actually cop to it.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Venetta smirks my way, her hands bunching up the fabric of that red satin dress she most likely paid a fortune for—with Velvet Vanity’s money. “Where’s Killion?” She cranes her neck past me. Little does Hattie know that I just so happen to have a red-hot date with her man as soon as I track him down. Nora’s brilliance has never shined brighter than when she suggested that I spend some serious alone time with him just to prove my innocence. And little does Nora know that innocent isn’t exactly a word she’d associate with me if she knew the truth.

I gasp hard at the revelation.

“I knew it,” I seethe just as the lights flicker. The spooky mood music moans and groans as an entire litany of screams go off around us.

“You knew what?” she growls my way.

“I know about Silas Moon,” I reply, my tone sharpening. “And exactly what he knew when he threatened to expose your dark, little secret.”

“What are you talking about?” She backs up a notch into the ever-dimming hall and I follow right along.

“I’m talking about the night he was killed—when he said he was disappointed in you and that soon the rest of the world would be, too.”

The whites of her eyes flash like lightning as she gives a few rapid blinks.

“No.” She shakes her head as she backs up another notch.

“ Yes ,” I say.

Venetta’s smile falters for a split second before she recovers. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Save it, Venetta,” I spit the words her way. “I know you’ve been skimming money from Velvet Vanity. And I’m willing to bet Silas found out.”

Her jaw unhinges for a moment before she forces a dark laugh. “You’re trying to track down Silas’ killer, aren’t you? Well, you’re grasping at straws, Hattie. Silas was doing some work for Nora. He certainly wasn’t interested in me or in whatever hideous crimes you might be trying to accuse me of.” How in the world would this little mouse figure out that I’ve been pocketing a little change from the spas? Not even Nora and her dumbbell of an accountant have figured that out. I’ve covered my tracks like a seasoned pro. And I am a seasoned pro, considering I skimmed a little off the top while I was still working retail.

Figures. Venetta went pro in the embezzlement arena a long time ago.

“That’s funny, Venetta, because I remember hearing the two of you were working on renovations together,” I say. “Renovations that conveniently went over budget.” Just a guess on the inner workings of her twisted mind. “Care to explain where the extra money went?” I gesture to her sparkling torso. “Haute couture, I’m guessing? Do you have the receipts for these pricey dresses you keep wearing? I bet they’d bypass your annual salary by a long shot. I think I’ll ask Killion to investigate.”

“No, no, you can’t do that.” She latches onto my arm as she cowers a bit, and her face is suddenly devoid of all color. “Hattie, you can’t tell anyone. Or?—”

“Or what? ” I yank my hand free. “You’ll come at me with a knife like you did with Silas?” Those other victims run through my mind. “Oh my word, Desmond Leffler had been speaking with Silas. You were afraid Silas was going to spill the beans about your little sticky fingers, weren’t you? Is that why you killed him, too?” I shake my head, struggling to put the rest of the pieces together. “But why kill Gavin Walters and Trent Parker? I don’t get it.”

“Kill who?” She looks genuinely perplexed by the accusation. “I didn’t kill anybody, and I certainly didn’t kill Silas. I plucked the knife from his chest trying to save him, for Pete’s sake. How many times do I have to say that?” Although a lot of good it would have done me had he lived. He was dead set on ratting me out anyhow. And by the looks of it, he certainly did. Instead of plucking that knife from him, I should have plunged it deeper. Whoever offed the guy was doing themselves and me a favor—albeit a day short when it came to my secrets and me.

“So you didn’t kill Silas?” I ask, stunned by the revelation.

“No, but I’m starting to wish I had. The man was a menace. He was cruel to me and I hate cruel people.” What kind of person says things like— you and Banister deserve one another ? And when he caught me red-handed mismanaging the billing, he said that whole bit about being an expert at sniffing out embezzlers, that the town had more than its fair share. “Look”—she latches onto my elbow and pulls me in—“I’ll give you half of everything I get if you keep your lips zipped. Nora can never learn about this and neither can Killion.” She shoots daggers my way. “And so help me, if you refuse my offer, I will make you pay in spades.” She tosses my arm back at me with violent force. “Think about it.” She offers up a sickly sweet smile before darting into the parlor to have a chat with an animatronic head about her future questionable endeavors.

“She didn’t kill him?” I mutter to myself. “She didn’t any of them?”

I yank out my phone and pull up that notorious group chat that’s been buzzing and beeping at all hours of the day.

Murder Club Group Chat

Hattie: There has to be a link between our four victims. Think, ladies. What could it have been?

Tipper: You want to do this now? Sorry, but I’m with your brother and let’s just say he’s all about the treats tonight.

Good grief.

Hillary: I’m in line for the buffet. We’ll talk when I’ve had a few crab cakes.

Kick: I’ve already had my weight in crab cakes and am moving toward the dessert station! Is death by chocolate a real thing? I’m about to find out.

Peggy: Oh, Hattie, find yourself a coven of bartenders and have a nice bloody cocktail. It’s Halloween, the sexiest time of the year. I vote we take the day off.

Chevy: Have you tried looking their names up together? I bet if you find a search engine powerful enough, there’s got to be some info that ties the four of them together.

Clarabelle: They’ve got a chocolate bonbon buffet behind the dessert table! Who says our member dues aren’t worth the paper they’re printed on anymore?

“Just great,” I say, dejected at the thought of letting a killer run loose another night. I go ahead and give Chevy’s idea a try, and after sifting through pages of articles linking their deaths to Brambleberry Bay, I finally come upon an article listing Silas, Gavin, and Trent together, and it just so happens to have been written by Desmond Leffler.

Huh.

I click in and start scanning through it.

“City council?” I say as I shake my head, reading on. And then I see another familiar name…

Venetta’s internal musings come back to me.

Those silver knives…

“Oh my goodness,” I whisper as I look up at the ballroom brimming with bodies—most of those with their heads still intact. “I know who the killer is.”