Chapter 16

WithBee-Bee still at Ian’s, I called a ride share to drop the glamour potions for the online order. The demon who’d requested them lived close to BaltonSquare, which was a great opportunity since Crane’s business was nearby.

Whetherhim being at the scene of the pentagram was an accident or not, it gave me a great excuse to drop by his office. In fact, it would be very odd if I didn’t, I told myself, leaving another voice message to nail down the fact I was theoretically very much unaware Crane was missing if anyone came asking.

Unfortunately, it being Saturday, I found the office closed for real. The blinds were drawn down behind the door, and the handle rattled ineffectively when I tried to push it open.

Thereal estate business occupying the first floor of the old converted building was, however, open on the weekend.

“Hello,” I greeted the man sitting behind the reception desk. “I’m looking for DesmondCrane. I saw his office is closed today. Do you know where I can find him?”

Theman scratched his chin with his phone. “Yeah, they usually close for a couple of days for Halloween.”

Togive Desmond time to catch up to his evil dark web market deeds, no doubt. “I see. When will they open again, do you know? Monday?”

“I guess, yeah.”

Imade sure to appear properly crestfallen. “That’s a bummer. I need to talk to him about something urgent that came up, and nobody’s answering the phone. Oh! What about his assistant? Do you know her number?”

Theman shook his head, more baffled than wary about the random woman asking for personal information, which, shame on whoever had raised him. He thought about it for a few seconds, then smiled. “I know where you can find her, though.”

“Really? That’d help so much.”

“Sure.” He nodded, immensely proud of himself. If he gave me her home address, I was bringing OfficerBrooks here to put the fear of everything holy in this man. “She loves doing the zombie walk over at FieldmanPark. I bet you she’s over there right now.”

Goodnews—this man got to live another day. “Great, thank you.”

TheJohnB. FieldmanPark was the biggest park in OldOlmeda. Named after a man who was erroneously hanged for a series of deadly robberies, it made perfect sense to set a Halloween zombie walk there likely filled with kids of all ages. What’s more family fun than parading around the trees where they used to hang convicts, I ask of you?

Itwas a bit of a walk among the growing morning crowd, but it allowed me to send Ian a few texts updating him on my theories.

Asusual, his response was a thumbs up.

WhenI told him I was going to the zombie walk to find Crane’s assistant, he sent me a green puking emoji and a skull.

WhenI told him he sucked, he sent a sparkling heart.

Andwhen I asked if he’d like to join me, he sent me a thumbs down and a dog face.

Grinninglike an idiot, I made it to the park. I didn’t have to work hard to find the zombie walk—a sizable crowd of families had already gathered around the main entrance. They had set up a few big tents with makeup and children’s games stations on the clearing before the wide dirt path that cut around the trees and fenced grass. Kids were screaming and running everywhere, dressed up in all kinds of costumes.

“Fifteen minutes to the walk,” someone announced through a bullhorn.

Perfecttiming.

Isearched the crowd and finally spotted April, Crane’s assistant, inside a growing group of zombies and other dressed-up people gathering by what was clearly the start of the walk.

“Ten minutes!”

Therewas no way I could talk to her before the walk started.

Dartingunder one of the tents, I sat on a tiny free stool in the makeup station.

“Can you zombify me in five minutes?” I asked eagerly.

Thewoman grabbed a pot of green. “Sure thing, hon.”

Abit over five minutes later, I was joining the eager group of zombies, cartoon characters, and superheroes and heroines at the start line. Elbowing my way among the excited kids felt kind of rude, so I bided my time and used the wait to send Ian a photo of my makeup. This was a walk, after all, not a sprint!

Iananswered with a laughing emoji and two thumbs up. A photo of Fluffy sleeping sprawled on Rufus’s huge bed while he looked very put upon followed.

Ah, but IanCavalier got me at a soul-deep level.

Itwas…scary.

“Ready?” the bullhorn voice asked, saving me from having to dissect that reaction.

Aloud chorus of yes! filled the air, and I’m not ashamed to admit mine was one of them. The excitement from the crowd was contagious.

“Go!”

Thecrowd surged forward, little kids running ahead, laughing and giggling to get in front of each other and the adults before adopting exaggerated zombie-style walks.

Iextended my arms forward and walked forward with stiff movements. The woman in the tent had wrapped some mummy bandages to my wrists and arms, so I might as well play the part.

Adultsand teens gleefully recording on their phones walked along with us, offering encouragement. I allowed a mini ZombieSpiderman to pass me, then shuffled diagonally on the dirt path until I caught up to April.

Shewas in full zombie costume with green skin, sunken eyes, and specks of blood around her mouth. I was a little disappointed the woman in the tent hadn’t done those for me, but I supposed parents wouldn’t be happy if she painted blood on their children.

“April?” I asked in a surprised voice once I grew near. “I didn’t know you participated in these!”

Andno, lying for the greater good wasn’t bad karma.

Aprilfrowned at me in concentration, then a moment later her expression cleared. “You’re the witch.”

“HopeAvery.”

“I remember you,” she said with a smile. Her walk consisted of a curved back, hunched shoulders, loose arms by her side, and dragging one foot behind the other. Ten out of ten, very convincing.

“You do these a lot?” I asked.

“Every year,” she said, all brightness. “I love it.”

Imade a show of looking around me. “Mr. Crane doesn’t partake, I assume?” My arms were starting to hurt, and I envied April’s walk. Next year I was definitely doing decaying zombie rather than fifties movie mummy.

Aprillaughed. “Oh, no. He’d hate it here.”

Ilaughed along with her. “I’ve been trying to get in contact with him, but I keep getting directed to voicemail.”

“Are you calling the office?”

Akid jumped in front of us and hit us with a foam blade.

“Bam! Bam! You’re dead!”

Iwidened my eyes theatrically and loomed over her. “Mummies never dieee.”

Thekid squealed with joy and ran to another zombie.

Aprilchuckled. “You’re good at this.”

“You know what they say: children are always fun to play with as long as they’re not yours. You have kids?”

“None. You?”

“Nope.” ButI wondered how Ian’s kids would look. I bet they’d be adorable grumpy babies with green eyes like their father.

Startledby the errant thought, I decided to bury it in a locked box deep within my brain and throw the key into the sea. Focus, Hope. “You close the office during Halloween?”

“Oh, yes. Mr. Crane always takes three days off.” She leaned closer and added in a low voice, “I sometimes wonder if he has some kind of kink and dresses up and does one of those one-man shows in Balton square or something.”

Ishuddered at the image that conjured. Talk about creepy Halloweens.

Shenodded in understanding. “Yeah, it’s weird. Why did you need to talk with him? Something wrong with your account?”

“I’m investigating the pentagrams.” BeingCrane’s assistant, April was most definitely part of the paranormal community.

Shewinced in disgust. “I heard about those. Creepy.”

“Mr. Crane was seen at the scene of one.”

“You think he’s involved?” she asked in shock.

“No.” Maybe. “But maybe he saw who did them.”

Understandingreplaced the horror in her expression. “I see. That makes sense.”

“Do you know if he dealt with any of the shops with the pentagrams? Bosko’s, Janet’s flower shop, and the Cabinet?”

“Oh, yes. All of them.”

“Even the Cabinet?”

“Yes. They have an account with us.” Once again, she leaned in to confide another secret. “Mr. Crane is trying to break into the non-paranormal market.”

Howdid the man have time to run all these people’s and businesses’ accounts on top of his dark web market dealings as an information broker? From what I understood, he had no interns or helpers besides April, and I was pretty sure she didn’t deal with the actual tax calculations.

DidCrane import potions from outside Olmeda? Some kind of super-focus dark-magic potion that allowed him to do the work of five people?

Ipursed my lips. Crane and I were going to have to have a talk.

Wait, no, he was dead.

Clearingmy throat, I asked, “Anyone who has gotten into a fight with Mr. Crane lately?”

“He had a big blowout with Bosko earlier this week.”

Interesting. “He did?”

Aprilnodded while still acting like a zombie and dragging the same foot. Talk about being a professional. “Bosko came in very angry and went into Mr. Crane’s office. I was on the phone so I couldn’t… Erm, anyway, I’m not sure what they discussed, but he rushed out of the office five minutes later just as angry.”

“Anyone else have words with him?”

“I mean, nobody is ever happy to see him, if you know what I mean.”

Idid, which is why I wasn’t asking her for anyone who might have a beef with Crane—the list would be endless. “I do.”

“OnlyBosko came to the office lately, though. They usually talk over the phone.” She grinned. “I can hear Mr. Crane shouting through the door.”

CouldBosko have marked his own shop as a distraction before killing Crane? What would be the use of leaving his corpse for me to discover, though?

“Nobody else lately?”

“Wait, there was Wyatt last week. They didn’t have a fight, though.”

Thename sounded familiar. Then it clicked. “Wyatt from the bar at Guiles and Romary?”

“Yes, that one.”

“You don’t know what he wanted with Crane?”

“No, sorry.”

It’dhave to do. Breaking out of character, and with my arms thanking me for it, I brought out my phone and showed April the screenshot from the webcam. “Ever see this person at the office or nearby?”

Shestudied the image closely, then shook her head. “Can’t really tell, sorry.”

“That’s okay. If you see someone like this will you give me a call?”

“Sure thing.”

Shesounded dubious, and I couldn’t blame her. Half of Olmeda with a hoodie would look like my suspect.

Iresumed my mummy walk, tuning out the screeches and laughter rising around us as more and more kids gave up on their walks and simply ran amok. InvestigatingCrane further wasn’t going to take me anywhere. All his clients probably hated him to different degrees, and that wasn’t even counting on his dark web marketplace contacts and customers. It’d take a lot of manpower to go through every name on the list—assuming we could get a complete list—and I only had so much time. Ian was good, but not even he could get alibis of so many people, especially without raising suspicion.

Speakingof which… I waved my phone. “Selfie for my shop’s social media?”

“Sure,” she said happily.

Wemade silly faces, and I posted the photo with the caption: Taking a break from witching to be a zombie mummy!

Ihoped if Dru saw it before I got back, she recognized April and realized I was here on business not pleasure, instead of walking out of the shop and leaving my customers in a Lord of the Flies situation.

Atrickle of sweat ran down my temple at the image. Time to cut the walk short and check in with her and Ian before moving on to the next stage in the investigation.

Movementoutside the scattering of onlookers caught my attention. A figure in a dark gray hoodie was walking away through a small path branching off the main one.

No. It couldn’t be this easy, could it?

“Gotta go,” I told April. “Have fun!”

Thehoodie-wearing figure was walking fast, so I jumped over the knee-high fence surrounding the patches of greenery and cut across the expanse of grass and pretty bushes.

“Mom,” a kid exclaimed behind me. “You said we couldn’t run on the grass!”

Notbad karma, I reminded myself.

Ijumped back into the narrower side path, but couldn’t see any hoodies among the visitors strolling around. Cursing to myself, I trotted farther down the path, scanning my surroundings. The park wasn’t dense, so it was easy to see other people through the voids between trees. All coats and jackets, a couple of joggers. Kids seemed to be the only ones wearing hoodies today.

Thena familiar figure brought me to a sudden stop. A young man with longish surfer hair dressed in jeans and an open flannel shirt over a sweatshirt was talking animatedly with a familiar handsome, tall man in a suit with close-cropped black hair.

Alexand…Preston, the evil ex?