Six Spooky Stories: Halloween Cozy Collection

by Sharon E. Buck, Bellamina Court, Kristen Elizabeth, Juliet Sidonie, Lily Stirling

Genres: Ghost; Amateur Sleuth; Animal Cozy Mysteries; Fantasy Anthologies & Collections; Holiday books

Synopsis

Just in time for Halloween, six of today’s most beloved cozy mystery authors have teamed up to create an enchanting anthology that promises to deliver chills, thrills, and plenty of cozy vibes.

 

Each of the six authors brings their unique voice and flair to the anthology, crafting tales filled with charming sleuths, eerie atmospheres, and puzzling mysteries. While individually captivating, the stories share a common thread of Halloween intrigue, making this anthology the perfect addition to any mystery lover's bookshelf during the spooky season.

Sharon E. Buck - "Ghouls Just Wanna Have Fun"
Bellamina Court - "Murder at the Manor"
Kristen Elizabeth - "Love, Lies, and Lavender"
Juliet E. Sidonie - "Mystery of the Missing Heirloom"
Lily Stirling - "Holt Jacobs and the Halloween Splash"
Victoria L.K. Williams - "Harry's Haunted Halloween"

The six authors are donating all sales proceeds of the "Six Spooky Stories: A Halloween Cozy Collection" are being donated to Reach Out and Read, an organization focusing on giving age-appropriate books to children in low-income families.

 

The authors hope to raise more than $14,000, approximately 7,000 books, sold for the organization during the month of October.

Get your copy today and help us to bring the job of reading and owning a book to children.

 

Read more

Release date: October 1, 2024

Publisher: Cool Kids Publishing

Print pages: 224

Sample

Ghouls Just Wanna Have Fun
Sharon E. Buck

“She’s dead! She’s dead!” The Wicked Witch of the West, aka Wanda, was screaming,
and her stuffed flying monkeys were bouncing around her head as she ran into the middle of
the gym floor. I was right in the middle of doing my soon-to-be immortalized Monster Bash
dance for YouTube when the shrieking of Wanda interrupted my rhythm.
Thinking it was a practical joke, I ignored the screaming. I was trying hard to concentrate
on my moves because my dance skills have been compared to a very frightened baby elephant
stomping on a cockroach in the past. Two semi-hop steps to the left, arms up in the kitty-cat
pose with my hands dangling from my wrists, then two semi-hops to the right with my arms
still up in the kitty-cat pose. I think I finally have those dance moves down.
Maybe it’s sad that a thirty-something-year-old female hasn’t learned to dance any better
than she did in high school. Whatever, I make the effort to dance and it’s always fun to catch
up with other classmates once a quarter.
Tommy, costumed in Ben Affleck’s orange and white DunKings outfit from the Super
Bowl Dunkin Donuts commercial, was doing some version of the Franken-step or maybe it
was the Werewolf Wiggle or the Zombie Shuffle, I don’t know. We weren’t dancing in sync
together.
He shouted over the music, “Inky Pinky, what’s wrong with the Wicked Witch?” Everyone
around us was doing some type of body gyrations never learned in a formal dance class. I think
everyone thought the Wicked Witch’s screaming was a practical joke. Made sense to me that
she would scream “She’s dead. She’s dead!” since she was dressed as a character from the
immortal movie The Wizard of Oz. I shrugged, although it may have been mistaken for a dance
move.
The more frantic she became, the more those flying monkeys were bouncing around her
head and shoulders. I had no clue how she had attached them to her costume. I was a little
envious. I went as the Cereal Killer where I had little mini-boxes of cereal with plastic knives
stuck in them. I was wearing jeans and a gray tee shirt with white lettering that said, “All Write,
All Write, All Write.” Somehow that seemed appropriate for a mystery writer. I knew I wasn’t
going to win the costume parade; plus, I wanted to be comfortable.
As the song ended, Wanda was now borderline hysterically screaming, “She’s dead! She’s
dead!” People began to pay attention to her. Murmurs were heard throughout the crowd.
“Who’s dead?”

“How much has the Wicked Witch had to drink?”
“Is she at it again? What’s wrong with that girl?”
“See, this is the reason why we shouldn’t have alcohol at a reunion.”
The DJ stopped the music. “This is DJ Groovy Giggles. May I have everyone’s attention?
Apparently, there’s been a medical emergency with the newly crowned Miss Monster Bash.”
He cracked up laughing. Next Halloween reunion, we should probably stipulate no alcohol for
the DJ. He was in the deep throes of a snort laugh. He was inhaling through his nose sounding
almost like a baby pig and had tears running down his face. This, of course, caused all the rest
of our group to burst into laughter.
The rest of us were turning to each other, asking questions, and were confused.
Tommy asked, “Isn’t Jaimie Miss Monster Bash?” Rolling his eyes, he snorted, “She’s as
healthy as a horse. She golfs and plays tennis weekly. What does ‘DJ Groovy Giggles,’” yes,
he air quoted, “know about her?”
DJ Groovy Giggles finally managed to compose himself. “The police and the ambulance
will be here shortly. No one may leave.”
Pushing whatever buttons on his mixers and turntable boxes to make the songs continue,
he did, and the requisite disco ball hanging from the gym’s rafter slowly twirled around. People
were milling around and still dancing or, at least, twisting their hips and flailing their arms
around in some semi-rhythmic variation of rocking out to the music, while questions were
buzzing throughout the gym.
After the third song, the police arrived. A few of us were silent at the sight. I guess the
Wicked Witch of the West hadn’t been kidding. Was Jaimie, Miss Monster Bash, really dead?
After conferring with the organizers for a few moments, one of the officers ran his hand
through his short-cropped hair. This was a sign of frustration. How did I know this priceless
bit of trivia? Well, I am a mystery writer and a research geek. Somewhere in my Google travels,
I had stumbled into a rabbit hole of physical actions that paired up nicely with whatever
emotion someone was trying to suppress. It’s usually done subconsciously.
One of the cuter officers - there were three of them in our midst now - took the microphone,
tapped on it a couple of times, and I’m sure DJ Groovy Giggles did this on purpose, the
microphone squealed. Everyone jerked their heads back like an icepick had been plunged deep
into their ear.
“We need everyone who was in the costume parade to line up.” A collective groan went
up from the crowd.

Was the man nuts? We’d had the costume parade at the beginning of the Monster Bash,
and it lasted a while since probably one hundred costumed adults had walked on the blood-red
carpet decorated with little lighted pumpkins every few feet. We were all now hot and sweaty,
and some of the costumes weren’t quite as pristine as they had been at the beginning of the
party.
Some of these folks were beyond competitive about their Halloween costume. Let me just
say that whatever nasty traits some of these people had in high school, they’ve had fifteen years
to perfect them. Some of these folks I didn’t like then and, unlike fine wine, they hadn’t
improved with age, which meant I wasn’t overly fond of them now either. Even though we
were all in our early thirties, some of these people had never grown up or they had become old
before their retirement years or they had turned into their parents. In short, there weren’t that
many single, fun friends anymore.
“Tommy...”
“I’m the DunKing, Inky Pinky.” He rolled his eyes at me. I had to admit he did have that
kind of Ben Affleck vibe. He had grown his beard for a month so it could fill in nicely. I had
proposed to color it in with my mascara but apparently that was an inappropriate gender offer.
He was highly insulted.
Rumors were starting to float around about what had happened to Jaimie, Miss Monster
Bash, if she were really dead. Maybe it was a practical joke after all. Everyone was still
snickering and thinking this was a variation of a murder mystery game instead of an actual
death in our midst.
I heard someone say, “She got drunk and fell into the punch bowl.” I knew that wasn’t true
because the Good Witch Glinda aka Polly wouldn’t have allowed that to happen. Polly was a
devout Baptist who loudly proclaimed to anyone who would listen that “alcohol would never
touch her lips.” She was right, alcohol never touched her lips. She drank it through a straw in
the privacy of her own home.
Polly guarded that punch bowl like one of her ill-behaved progenies. Thou shalt not touch
or pour anything into that bowl that wasn’t sanctified.
Then the rumor was Miss Monster Bash had over-indulged in some cheap illegal street
pharmaceuticals. I seriously doubted that. Jaimie was one of the most popular girls from high
school and was now a highly esteemed online social media mogul. She was also the proud
trophy wife of a very prominent attorney in our small town. The woman always dressed
perfectly and was on the board of directors for virtually every social group in town. She wasn’t
about to do anything that would jeopardize her social standing in our community.

Jaimie had been voted Most Likely to Succeed in high school. She was the quintessential
tall, leggy, blonde with a smile that made all of the boys fall in love with her and girls borderline
hate her, yet want to be her. She also had the competitive drive that could have made her a
shark on the TV show Shark Tank. The woman could breathe the air and turn it into gold. She
knew how to make money. She was a MINK – married income no kids.
“Inky Pinky!” My nickname from my sophomore year had never gone away. It was an
unfortunate incident with fingerprinting in journalism class where the ink had not completely
come off my pinky finger and I apparently touched everything in the classroom but the teacher.
My fingerprint was everywhere, and old, crusty Mrs. Banks had looked over the top of her
glasses and snapped, “Well, aren’t you the inky pinky one.” The nickname stuck.
I had to keep reminding myself over the years that Inky Pinky was vastly superior to my
other nickname through grade school and junior high. It was M&M. My real name is Mona
Madonna. I don’t think my parents liked me. Of course, being the last of seven children, maybe
they just ran out of names. I’m sure you can understand why a nickname was much preferable
to my real name of Mona. I still cringe when I think about the nicknames kids could have come
up with on that.
Turning my wayward thoughts back to Tommy, “What do you think happened?”
He shrugged. “Time for us to line up in the costume parade...again.”
The cute police officer came over to where our little group of Tommy, Olivia, Danny, and
I were standing. His nameplate said “Tinley.”
“Officer Tinley, what’s going on?” I was smiling. He wasn’t.
“Please, just line up and tell me your, ah, character name and your real name.”
He wasn’t going to be any fun. “I’m the Cereal Killer and my name is Inky Pinky.”
He took a deep breath and slowly let it out through his nose. “What’s your real name?”
I hadn’t used it in so long I had almost forgotten it; plus, it’s always fun to mess with a
cop. That’s what happens in a small rural Southern town where everybody knows everybody
else. “It’s Mona Bond.”
Tinley had been looking at the costume parade names list that the organizer, the Countess
of Creepiness, had given him. He glanced up. “Are you James Bond’s sister?”
My parents obviously had a perverted sense of humor when it came to naming their
offspring. I think they kept producing kids just to give us offbeat names so that we’d have to
learn how to fend for ourselves and, thus, making us better people for the harsh realities of life.
None of my siblings were amused at their names either.

“Yes, Jim is my older brother.” I deliberately didn’t say James. “Aren’t you Kyle’s
brother?”
Officer Tinley just grinned. It’s a small town. If you couldn’t connect someone in two
names, you weren’t from here.
“Is Jaimie really dead?” I asked him. “A lot of comments are being made that it’s part of
a murder mystery game.”
Tinley shook his head. “Unfortunately, it’s not a rumor. This isn’t a game.”
He continued down his list and marking names off.
A few of us were huddled together talking. Tommy, the DunKing asked, “Wasn’t Jaimie
a diabetic? Maybe she drank too much punch and that caused some type of reaction.”
“That would be Miss Monster Bash to you,” I giggled.
Some of our other classmates had joined our group and nodded. Todd, a former defensive
end for the University of Florida’s National Football Championship team, was dressed as an
Ohio tourist wearing a Florida shirt with flamingos and palm trees on a pale green background,
baggie beige shorts hanging to his knees, white tube socks pulled halfway up his hairy legs,
and sandals. “I think she had to take insulin shots a couple of times a day,” he said.
“How come her husband, Steve, wasn’t here with her?” asked Berta, dressed as a waitress
from Metro Diner. I suspected she had come to the party after her shift was over. She had a
tray full of drinks which she admonished us to wait our turn so she wouldn’t lose control of the
tray.
DJ Groovy Giggles had started the music again. This time it was very low. While it was
probably inappropriate to start dancing again, we all did so.
The microphone squealed again. Officer Tinley tapped it a couple of times. “Attention,
attention. We’re going to take statements from each one of you. No one can leave.”
Dianna, dressed as a pineapple with a tiara that read ‘Queen of Fruits,’ immediately howled
a protest. “I have a babysitter. Who’s gonna pay for the extra time?”
Noticing several other moms nodding in agreement, I waved my hand. “Officer Tinley,
Officer Tinley, how long is all of this going to take?”
He glanced over at me and then promptly walked to the far corner of the gym to question
Dianna, Queen of Fruits, first. The other officers had gone to their respective corners with
different classmates to question them.
Our once beautifully decorated gym with large black plastic cauldrons with green mist
periodically rising from them, the tarantula black balloon sculpture tall enough for us to stand
under and take pictures, the cheesy silly string sprayed over the Happy Halloween and Monster

Bash banners, carved pumpkins galore, plastic tombstones stuck to the wood floor with duct
tape – Good Witch Glinda aka Polly the Baptist thought it would be a good idea to put the
names of several of our classmates who were no longer with us in the natural sense on the
tombstones. Why? No one knew. Maybe it was her way of remembering them. I was going to
have a field day including all of this in my next novel. I already had a title in mind, The Grim
Reaper’s Guide to Getting Away with Murder.
“You’re plotting and planning again, aren’t you?” laughed my BFF Terri who was dressed
as Holy Guacamole and now standing at my elbow.
I eyed her costume. “You’re an avocado with a halo and wings? Green is not your color,
Terri. Why didn’t you go with our original idea of being a Crazy Cat Lady with the bathrobe
and stuffed cats pinned to it? Also, where have you been? I haven’t seen you since I got here.”
“Inky Pinky, it was too hot, and I couldn’t move around in it very easily. I’ve been here.
You’ve just been busy with Tommy and...”
“DunKing.” Tommy was going to stick to that all night long.
Terri seemed to be a little nervous, maybe even a little defensive when I asked where she
had been all night. Normally, she and Jaimie were the queens of any social event. They liked
being in the spotlight. They competed for the title to anything and everything in town. They
had been going after the same titles since we were in junior high school.
I hadn’t seen Terri on the dance floor all night. She was a good dancer, and everyone liked
to dance with her. “Terri, why...?
She leaned over and whispered in my ear. “I didn’t feel well enough to dance. I think I
may be pregnant again.”
“Really?” I jerked my head back with a big smile on my face. “When were you going to
tell me?”
She let her eyes rove over the dance floor. “I haven’t told you anything because, well, Josh
and I are having problems and I’m, I’m not, I’m just not sure about this one.”
I inwardly groaned. Terri was always dramatic. This was probably the fifth or sixth time
she’d told me she thought she was pregnant this year alone. I didn’t believe her. She just wanted
sympathy for whatever was going on in her life. She also waited until the most inappropriate
or stressful times to tell me things like this. I always offered her my support, which I did this
time also.
“Don’t you even think about it! I’ll help you. This is what best friends are for. We’ll make
this work.” I paused, grabbed hold of her hands, and leaned back toward her to whisper, “Is
Josh fooling around again? Who is it this time?”

Tears sprang up, “I’m not sure. He’s always bragged to me in the past about who it was,
but he hasn’t done it this time. What am I going to do, Inky Pinky?”
I hugged her and asked the same question I always do. “Why do you stay with Josh when
he’s always running around on you? I’ve never been able to figure that out.”
She was quietly sobbing now but no one was paying any attention. “I’m an economic slave,
you know that. I don’t have any job skills, I have to stay home with my babies, and...” the tears
were streaming down her face, “I love Josh. He treats us well and he’s a good provider for the
family. It's just his running around that I hate.”
Aarrgghh! I just wanted to slap her silly. She was too good to put up with this from Josh.
I’d known about his running around on her for several years but, cough, cough, Terri wasn’t
exactly Miss Faithful either. They deserved each other - I guess.
Officer Tinley suddenly showed up at my elbow. “You,” he pointed at the far corner of
the gym, “go over there and let Officer Durbin get your statement.”
“Sir,” I was trying to be respectful, “since you’re questioning us, I think we all should ask
our attorneys first before we answer any questions.”
Poker face set in granite is what popped into my mind with Officer Tinley. “If you don’t
have anything to hide, why would you mind giving a statement to the police, Miss Mona
Bond?” This was almost a sneer from him. “Also, Miss Bond, you’ve had ample time to call
your attorney since we’ve been here. What’s your point?”
Actually, I had already texted my attorney. Apparently, she had nothing else to do on a
Saturday night in a small, sleepy, Southern town but to answer clients’ text messages. She had
told me it was okay to talk to the police since I didn’t know anything.
I held my hands up. “Just asking, that’s all. I’m happy to cooperate.” I smiled. Okay, it
was a cheesy smile, but I was trying to be reasonably polite; annoying, yes. Why? Because I
could be. I have a streak of rebelliousness against authority in general. I blame it on my parents
naming me Mona Madonna Bond. Hey, it’s as good a reason as any. I don’t know why I’m like
this, but I also don’t feel the need to go to therapy over it either.
He just pointed to the corner where Officer Durbin was looking around the gym, probably
bored out of his mind. I strolled across the floor.
“What can I answer for you, Officer?”
He asked a few questions about where I was, what I had been doing, and if I had drunk
any of the punch. He didn’t ask about the snacks, and that was interesting. To my mind, that
meant only one thing. Jaimie had died by drinking the punch.

Yes, I had drunk the punch. It was your standard Baptist non-alcoholic juice that is liberally
served at Vacation Bible Schools throughout the United States – red Hawaiian Punch mixed
with ginger ale. Yes, we had all brought mini-bottles of our favorite adult liquid libation and
mixed it in the red go-cups. No different now as adults than what we had done in high school.
Some things never change.
“How well did you know Jaimie?” asked the officer jotting down some notes.
“Jaimie, Miss Monster Bash? I’ve known her since junior high school. We grew up
together.”
“Do you know anyone who might have wanted to do her harm? Didn’t like her, may have
even hated her?” His pen was poised to write down anything of importance that I might say.
“No. I think everybody liked her.” I’m sure she probably did have someone who didn’t
like her, but I didn’t know of any.
I was dismissed and made my way back to the group. Cyndi Lauper’s “Girls Just Wanna
Have Fun” was playing, Tommy and I started dancing again. I looked around for Terri. She
was standing in the back corner talking to Tinley and another officer. She saw me and made
gigantic wave motions with her hands for me to come over. Officer Tinley turned to see who
she was waving at. I pointed at myself. What was going on that Terri needed my help?
Tinley nodded for me to come over. I handed my red go-cup to Tommy. He was my one
male friend who I knew wouldn’t spit in it while I wasn’t looking. Also, it probably wasn’t a
wise idea to take a freshly refilled cup of Baptist punch and rum over to the officers. None of
us had over-indulged, well, DJ Groovy Giggles had but he doesn’t count since he wasn’t a
classmate, but still...I didn’t want to give the cops any reason not to let me drive home in my
own vehicle.
“So,” Tinley cleared his throat, “how long have you known Terri Derschell?”
Holy Guacamole! Okay, that was a bad pun on her costume, but this wasn’t good. Terri
never used her maiden name. Why didn’t she tell Tinley her married name was Hargrove? Her
eyes were a little wider than normal and rivers of sweat – it was past the perspiration phase of
bodily fluids – were running down the sides of her face.
“Inky Pinky, I told them I wasn’t feeling well.”
I nodded, looking at Officer Tinley and the other policeman. I couldn’t see his badge name.
“She told me she wasn’t feeling well--”
Terri interrupted me, “Earlier in the evening.” She nervously laughed, “It’s that time of
the month, guys.”

I guess she figured that would make the police leave her alone. Me, on the other hand,
wondered what was up with the misinformation. Although we had been friends forever and
three days, I couldn’t read her mind to know what she wanted me to do.
Good Witch Glinda popped up next to me and announced, “Officers, I happened to
remember that Wanda, she’s dressed as the Wicked Witch of the West, has hated Jaimie for
years. You might want to check her alibi out.”
Really, Miss Goody Two Shoes? You’re going to throw Wanda under the bus? I’m betting
Wanda had threatened to spike the punch, she wouldn’t have, and Good Witch Glinda still felt
the need to get back at her. There were people’s lives at stake here, not some petty annoyance
at each other.
Tinley semi-grimaced, then glanced at his notes. “I’ve already talked to her, and she said
you two had gotten into an argument about how much ginger ale was to be in the punch. She
did admit she had taunted you with ‘you’re full of fudge nuggets’ and stomped off. Is that true,
Good Witch Glinda or should I call you Polly now?”
I couldn’t help it, I started to chuckle. That was so Wanda, to get mad at someone and,
instead of actual curse words, use terms like ‘fudge nuggets,’ ‘shish kebob,’ or ‘mother of
pearl’ to indicate her displeasure. She was highly excitable but harmless. She wouldn’t hurt
anyone.
Polly glared at the officer. Her jaw clenched. “Yes.”
“So, maybe you’re just mad at her, huh?” Tinley looked like he wanted to be anywhere
but here. “And, maybe, Wanda didn’t really hate Jaimie. Is that a possibility?”
The Good Witch Glinda façade disappeared from Polly’s face before she answered, “I’m
going back to the snack bar area if you need me.” She stomped off.
Tinley wiped his forehead with his hand. He turned back to Terri. “Aren’t you married to
Josh Hargrove?”
It’s a small town. We all pretty much knew who was married to whom, how many times
someone’s been married, who’s fooling around, and fifty other million vital pieces of worthless
information to spread lies and gossip about.
Terri’s shoulders dropped, a tear slid down her face, she looked at the ground, and nodded.
Tinley must have a heart because he gently said, “It’ll be okay.”
She sort of bobbed her head.
“You two can go.” He turned, “Oh, wait. Who is the guy dressed up as Bob Ross, the TV
artist painter guy?”
Terri and I looked at each other and burst out laughing. “His name is really Bob Ross.”

Grinning, I added, “Bob’s really an engineer and, yes, that’s really his own curly hair.”
Once we had gotten far enough away from the officers, I asked, “Terri, what’s up? Why
are you lying? That’s a really dangerous thing to do.”
“Am I a good actress or what?” She giggled. “I didn’t think it was any of his business. I’m
fine.”
Catching the surprised look on my face, “Stop that! What I told you was true. I might be
pregnant.”
“Have you done the pee-on-the-stick test yet?”
“Tomorrow, I’ll do it tomorrow,” she promised.
Tommy had consumed my go-cup contents while I was talking with the officers. “I think
I know what happened to Jaimie.”
Doing a side-eye glance, “Yeah, Mr. DunKing. What happened?”
“Well, me and Danny here...” Danny, Tommy’s BFF, dressed as the Village Idiot
complete with a dunce hat with red tassels, white shirt, black and silver vertically striped pants,
purple and white horizontal striped socks up to his knees with black pointy-toed shoes, was
grinning like the proverbial Cheshire Cat, “think that the Cupcake Queen of Sweets did it. She
probably told Jaimie that her cupcakes didn’t have any sugar in them which, of course, was a
lie. Jaimie ate too much sugar, went into a diabetic coma, and died.”
“You, Mr. DunKing, and the Village Idiot here...”
“Hey, hey!” protested Danny, “I’m not an idiot.”
Olivia, his latest sweetie, in her French Maid’s outfit, murmured, “I told him not to wear
that costume.”
I laughed and looked around at everyone who was still here. “You mean to tell me that
absolutely no one else noticed the Cupcake Queen of Sweets gave Jaimie a cupcake or two or
three based on your outstanding observational skills? Oh, pul-leaze, guys, give me a break.”
Posing in her cute little French Maid’s outfit, Olivia took her feather duster and waved it
around, poking Tommy, Danny, and me with it. “It’s probably something so simple that killed
her that everyone is overlooking it. Who was she hanging out with? That’s who the cops need
to be looking at.”
Tommy shrugged, “We’ve all been hanging out with each other all night. I mean Jaimie
only died after she was voted as Miss Monster Bash. That Miss Liberty costume was off the
charts. I heard she had ordered it online several months ago.”
Since our sort of class reunions happened once a quarter and we knew the “Ghouls Just
Wanna Have Fun” theme for the Halloween party, we had all been planning what to wear for

months. All of the other get-togethers didn’t involve costumes. They were the typical small-
town casual wear – tee shirts, nice shirts, and jeans.

Olivia, who had been behind us a year in school, asked, “Who came up with the ‘Ghouls
Just Wanna Have Fun’ theme?”
I wasn’t sure. I looked at Tommy who shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe it was Wanda.”
“Maybe it was Wanda what?” The Wicked Witch of the West magically appeared next to
Danny. He jumped. “What did I do this time?”
Wanda’s makeup was a soggy green mess. She had been crying. I couldn’t blame her.
After all, she had found Jaimie dead in the ladies’ restroom.
Smiling, I asked, “Were you the one who came up with the theme for this Monster Bash
party?”
“I don’t remember who came up with the name,” she brightened up for a moment, although
the tear-streaked green makeup now kind of looked like green boogers on her face. “It’s a great
name though, right?”
We all grinned and gave our thumbs-up approval. Wanda didn’t hang out with our gang
very often and I thought she might go hang out with another group. I was wrong. It was obvious
Wanda wasn’t going anywhere.
“Wanda, what happened? Are you okay?” I gently asked her. I did pat her on the shoulder

although those darn monkeys were bobbing around like mosquitoes at an all-you-can-eat-
smorgasbord of naked arms in the Florida summertime. I didn’t want a monkey to get me.

“The cops told me I couldn’t say anything.” Her eyes welled up with tears again. She made

a move to hug me. No, no, no! I didn’t want those monkeys touching me! They were weird-
looking and had little googly eyes. Wanda may have made them at one of her arts and crafts

classes.
Olivia, bless her heart, jumped over and gave Wanda the needed hug. Two monkeys got
stuck in her French Maid’s lace apron. We all helped to untangle the monkeys after the hug;
well, except for me. I’m not touching those things! Remember, the monkeys lifted Dorothy up
and flew away with her in the Wizard of Oz. I didn’t want to take the chance they might really
come to life and drag me off to God knows where.
“Now, honey, it’s okay for you to tell us. We’re your friends and,” Olivia paused, looking
to see where the cops were, “no one’s here to silence you.”
Oh, good move, Olivia. I might need to get to know her better.
Wanda sniffled a couple of times and then looked at each of us. “Jaimie had been over at
the snack table. She was talking with everyone and laughing. You know how she always made

everyone feel special, right? Anyway, she had a go-cup in her hand, took a drink, set it down,
and went to the ladies’ restroom. Me and Good Witch Glinda were trash-talking about how
much ginger ale needed to be in that nasty Hawaiian Punch. Why is she always in charge of
that mess?”
We laughed; we felt the same way. Tommy offered, “I think she just brings the Hawaiian
Punch and ginger ale with her everywhere she goes. She mixes everything together when she
arrives at whatever event she’s attending, and no one has the cajónes to tell her no more Baptist
punch.”
Danny, Olivia, and I agreed, “Probably so.”
“Anyway, the newspaper photographer was here and wanted to take Jaimie’s picture.”
You had to give Wanda props because she always managed to make sure our reunions
made the local newspaper – all eight pages of it.
“I looked around, didn’t see her, and Polly said she hadn’t seen her either. The last time I
saw her was when she went to the restroom, and I remember thinking she couldn’t possibly
still be in there because a good twenty or thirty minutes had passed.”
Wanda broke down crying again. Her makeup was a disaster, and I really couldn’t look at
her face because I was afraid I’d burst out laughing. At least Terri wasn’t here to egg me on.
“Anyway, I went into the bathroom and there she was. She was splayed out like the Statue
of Liberty only on the floor and she still had her Miss Monster Bash trophy in her right hand.”
Wanda sniffled some more. “Her Miss Liberty torch was lying next to her.”
I had to turn away because I had laugh tears zooming down my cheeks at the speed of light
at the thought of the Miss Monster Bash trophy being compared to the Miss Liberty torch and
the Statue of Liberty. My shoulders were shaking with laughter. Wanda mistakenly took my
actions as one of extreme distress caused by the death of a former classmate. She hugged me.
Those darn, fudge nuggets, shish kabobbed monkeys touched the back of my head and I totally
became unglued. I jumped, I hollered, and an adult curse word or two may or may not have
unintentionally escaped my lips.
Danny did give all appearances of the Village Idiot by falling on the floor laughing. Olivia
wasn’t much better and was no help this time. Tommy did the Ben Affleck DunKing prancing
knee hop. Me? I fell on the floor in the fetal position totally forgetting I had tiny little cereal
boxes with plastic knives in them pinned all over my clothes. The little plastic knives were
stabbing me in various parts of my body and causing a great deal of pain. Rolling over only
caused more discomfort with those knives. Whoever said plastic breaks easily never has done
this.

And, Wanda, trying to be helpful, loomed over me with those monkeys flopping around
like they had mated with the Energizer Bunny.
I was screaming and trying to cover my head. I finally opened my tightly, squeezed shut
eyes as I felt myself being hoisted to my feet. Officer Tinley was staring into my face like he
might need to Baker Act me. I wasn’t that crazy!
Stifling a grin, he asked, “Are you okay?”
I had gone over the edge of sanity and was blathering about the monkeys and how they
touched me when he handed me a go-cup of that nasty Baptist punch. I choked and spit it out.
In the middle of his dark blue shirt. I didn’t mean to, it just happened.
“Someone needs to take,” he coughed after looking down at his soiled shirt, “Inky Pinky
home.”
Leaning toward me, Tinley grinned, “How much rum have you had?”
I was still sputtering, “Obviously, not enough but I’m okay to drive.”
He rolled his eyes. “All of you go home. We’ll be in touch.”
Danny and Olivia offered to take Wanda home. To say she was distraught was an
understatement. Between finding Jaimie dead and me having a total emotional breakdown
because of her monkeys flying around her head, her self-confidence and self-esteem were
probably at an all-time low. She didn’t have an abundance of either one of those qualities to
begin with.
Two days later, I got a phone call from Terri. I was happy to hear from her.
“Yo, girl, what’s up? I haven’t heard from you since the party. Are you pregnant? Tell me
what’s going on.”
“Bestie, I’m not PG.”
Honestly, I was relieved for her. If she and Josh were having problems in their marriage,
the last thing they needed was another baby. Although I strongly suspected this was just another
one of her fake pregnancy announcements because she wanted sympathy from me about her
marriage.
“So, what’s up?”
“Not much.”
Okay, this wasn’t like Terri. She was very bubbly and outgoing, not quiet and demur. I
wasn’t sure how to proceed with our conversation. It felt one-sided to me.
“Terri, how come you weren’t in the costume parade at the Monster Bash? Your Holy
Guacamole outfit was great. I think you might have even beaten Jaimie this time.”

She snapped, “I told you. I wasn’t feeling well. Besides, I always come in second. What
was the point?”
We changed topics and chatted about nothing for another couple of minutes. Then I asked,
“Are you going to Jaimie’s funeral tomorrow?”
“Well, not in a Holy Guacamole costume!”
We laughed.
The funeral was a very nice affair. Jaimie’s husband, Steve, had it catered at the Women’s
Club. Just like every other social function in town, Polly was there with her Baptist punch.
We - Tommy, Danny, Olivia, Wanda, and I - met up for coffee after the funeral. Terri
didn’t show up for Jaimie’s funeral but that really wasn’t unusual. She didn’t attend most
funerals. As she so eloquently put it, “The only funeral I have to attend is my own.”
We were still giggling about Polly and her punch when Officer Tinley walked into the
coffee shop just as we sat down. I waved at him; he ignored me. I was just trying to be nice. I
guess he was still upset that I had accidentally spit on his uniform shirt. I poked Tommy. He
rolled his eyes, groaned, and walked over to Tinley. He looked around Tommy and stared at
our group for a moment before getting his coffee and walking back over with Tommy.
He acknowledged our presence with an uplifting of his chin. Was that urban for ‘yo, what’s
up’?
Sitting down across from me, he asked, “Have you seen or talked to Terri lately...or do
you want to talk to your attorney first?”
We all grinned. I had filled them in with my quasi-tongue-in-cheek comment about
attorneys at the Monster Bash party.
“Actually, I talked with her yesterday. We just chitchatted for a few minutes and that was
it.”
“Did she say anything about why she wasn’t in the costume parade?”
I shrugged. “Just that she wasn’t feeling well and didn’t want to do it.”
We talked about a few new things happening around town and that was it. He left to go
back on duty.
“You know, I kind of wondered the same thing about Terri,” said Danny slowly. “She and
Jaimie competed for everything. It did seem odd that she wasn’t in the parade.”
Wanda took a sip of her hot chocolate. “That’s probably because she was late coming in.
She didn’t arrive until the parade was almost over.”

The radar that was circling on my head had gone from a happy-go-lucky merry-go-round
speed to something that was threatening to spin off my head and go to the moon and back.
Everyone looked at Wanda.
“What do you mean she came in late? Terri’s always on time. In fact, she’s almost always
early.” I was confused. I hadn’t seen Terri at the beginning of the party. Mainly because I was
so focused on having a good time dancing with Tommy. I like to dance, just because I have no
rhythm means absolutely nothing.
Polly came through the coffee shop’s entrance door like a Category 4 hurricane. She had
a wild-eyed look when she saw us. “Are y’all having a meeting and didn’t include me?” she
demanded. Turning to Wanda, she snapped, “Haven’t you been arrested yet?”
Wanda’s mouth hung open and she started to cry. “What am I being arrested for?”
“Murder, you stupid wench.”
Usually, I avoid confrontation at all costs, but today I’d had it. I stood up, I was taller than
Polly. Maybe I could squash her like a bug.
“Inky Pinky, you stay out of this.” Polly pointed her finger at me, poked me three times,
and turned facing Wanda. “Wanda’s a liar and a murderer. I told the cops how you had been in
and out of the bathroom umpteen times. How you had a bathrobe with you. I know you were
jealous of her.”
“Polly, you know if you pop me with that finger of yours one more time, it’s technically
assault, don’t you?” My temper flared up. “Also, I’m telling everyone a secret about you and
your husband.” I was mad.
That probably wasn’t the right thing to do or say when there was an irate female standing
in front of me, but it did distract her from bashing Wanda. I wasn’t so sure if Polly was going
to send me to heaven on the Monster Bash Express. Tommy was trying to pull me down into
my chair.
“What’s your so-called secret?” she hissed. “We have nothing to hide.”
I smirked. “What about your hubby going to the far end of the county to buy...sherry that’s
not used for cooking.”
Everyone gasped and then laughed. I thought Polly was going to explode. “You’d better
have proof of that, Inky Pinky, or I’ll sue you for slander.”
I held up my cell phone. “I have a picture of Dickie in The Old Tyme Liquor Store and
he’s standing at the counter swiping his card with two, count them, two bottles of sherry.”

She went to grab for my phone, but I had plopped back down in my seat because of
Tommy’s pulling on me. She missed my phone, but face planted on the tabletop. I suppose I
should say I was sorry that happened, but I wasn’t, and I laughed instead.
Wanda was still crying, and Olivia was trying to comfort her. Hiccupping, Wanda
managed to get out, “I didn’t kill Jaimie. I wasn’t jealous of her. She was always so nice to
me.”
I guess the coffee shop people had called the cops because Officer Tinley was back again.
He wasn’t amused.
“What’s going on here?”
I gave him the short version. Polly was gingerly touching her nose, threatening all sorts of
things against all of us. Tinley led her to a table several tables over. She sat there for a moment,

shaking her head, and then got up to go to her car. She slowly maneuvered around the drive-
thru line and left.

Tinley came back over to us. “Polly’s having a bad day. I think Jaimie’s death has affected
her much more than she’s let on.”
Okay, I had a little empathy for her. Not a great deal but enough to cut her a break.
“Officer Tinley, she said Wanda was going to be arrested for the murder of Jaimie.” I
looked quizzically at him, hoping for some type of response one way or the other. I was
disappointed.
“That’s not up to me, it’s up to the powers that be.”
Danny chuckled. “A rhyming cop. Are we going to see you on America’s Got Talent at
any point? Can you rap?”
I’m sure Tinley didn’t think much of our sense of humor, but he probably didn’t see
wonderful people like us on an everyday basis either.
“Inky Pinky, you’re the murder expert. What do you think happened?” asked Wanda, her
eyes big and wide, after Tinley left.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! I’m not an expert. I write murder mystery books. They’re fiction.” I
tried to explain. Did I have an idea of what happened? Yes. Was I right? Maybe, possibly,
probably not. I didn’t want to be right.
Steve, Jaimie’s husband, came into the coffee shop. Gone was the normal bounce in his
step that we all knew, his body language looked dejected. He saw us, got his coffee, and came
over to join us. We all told him how sorry we were about Jaimie. He nodded, silent, looking
down in his coffee mug.

He took a deep breath and sighed. “Jaimie was the love of my life. I would give anything
to have her still be here.”
Steve looked up. “I don’t think I was the love of her life though. Do any of y’all know
anything about that?”
Shock was an understatement. If the earth had suddenly dropped out from underneath me
or anyone else at the table, we couldn’t have been more surprised. This is a small town and
surely one of us would have heard something if Jaimie had been fooling around on Steve. The
only way we wouldn’t have heard something would have been because the relationship was so
new or that she and her fellow were going out of town for their fun and games.
“Steve,” Tommy cleared his throat. “Why weren’t you at the Monster Bash?”
Why do guys always clear their throats when they’re about to ask an important question?
I think it’s in their male DNA at birth.
Steve shrugged. “We‘d had a fight about a new investment she was doing with some guy.
She wire-transferred him a hundred thousand dollars. I hadn’t seen the contract, I don’t even
know what the product or service was, and she wouldn’t give me any more details.”
“Wait, Steve. You can always look at your checking account and figure out who the money
went to.” I was sure of this.
“We had our own separate personal and business accounts. That’s going to take a bit of
time to get things done with the bank.”
I shook my head; something wasn’t making any sense. “Steve, was the guy local?”
He nodded.
An ugly thought was creeping into my brain. It was only a theory, but it was one I really
didn’t want the answer to. I wondered if the cops had the same idea I had. If not, maybe I
should be a cop and not a mystery writer. After all, it’s their job to figure out these things.
I was sure Wanda was the unsuspecting and unknowing key to everything. After a few
more minutes of idle chatter, we all left.
Calling Officer Tinley, I left a message with my idea of what had happened to Jaimie. He
didn’t call back.
I sat up all night writing down everything I could remember. I wanted to talk to Wanda
but didn’t dare call before eight in the morning because that would just be rude since she wasn’t
a close friend.
My BFF Terri texted me at seven thirty-two. “Hey, I am so happy! Josh got tickets for our
whole family to go to Bolivia. You know, like Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Anyway,
we’re on our way to the airport. Catch you later.”

I was happy for her. A tear slid down my cheek. I called Wanda at eight on the dot. “Hey,
are you free for coffee or breakfast in the next thirty minutes? My treat.”
Wanda was enthusiastic and we met at the diner. “Wanda, I have a couple of questions
about the Monster Bash.”
She beamed, “It was a lot of fun, wasn’t it? Well, at least in the beginning when everyone
dressed up in their costumes.”
Taking a deep breath, I plunged forward with my question. “You got there early, right?”
“Yes.”
“When did Terri show up? You had said she was late to the costume parade. I just
wondered what time you think she showed up.”
Cutting her sausage patty into tiny little squares, she answered, “Oh, Terri was there at the
beginning.”
Be still, my beating heart. “You said you found a bathrobe in the ladies’ restroom, right?”
“Yes, it looked like it had been part of someone’s costume, but I guess they changed their
mind about wearing it.”
“Wanda, when Terri showed up, what was she wearing?” My heart felt like it was in my
throat.
“She had on jeans and a tee shirt. She was carrying a garment bag and went into the
restroom to change.”
I shut my eyes slowly. No, please don’t let it be true, I thought. I whispered, “What was
her first costume? Was it a bathrobe with little stuffed cats pinned to it and she was going to be
the Crazy Cat Lady?”
Wanda looked up, surprised. “Yes, how did you know?”
“No one asked you about the bathrobe or the stuffed cats pinned to it? That maybe it was
part of a costume or something?”
“No.”
I blinked again slowly. “Were Jaimie and Terri in the restroom together at any time?”
Wanda shrugged. “I don’t know. I was kind of surprised when she came out of the
bathroom about halfway through the costume parade. She was wearing her Holy Guacamole
outfit then.”
Trying hard not to scream ‘you’re a special kind of stupid’ at Wanda, I managed to eke
out, “Didn’t it strike you as odd that Terri had two different outfits for the Monster Bash?”
“No. Several of the other girls had two outfits and they were trying to figure out which one
stood the greatest chance of winning.”

Okay, that made sense...maybe, sort of.
“Terri was upset though. She thought her Crazy Cat Lady costume was good and some of
the other girls were teasing her that it was too plain and wouldn’t stand a chance against
Jaimie’s Statue of Liberty costume. One of the girls told Terri, ‘Why bother? You know she’s
going to be Miss Monster Bash. She wins at everything.’ We all kind of giggled.”
I shut my eyes and held them shut for a long thirty seconds. Yes, I counted because I was
trying not to choke Wanda for not telling the cops everything, or maybe she had.
Opening my eyes, I asked, “You told all of this to the cops, right?”
She smiled. “Yes.”
Okay, I might have to take back the stupid part, but I hadn’t said it out loud. So that meant
it didn’t count, right?
I heard the sirens go by as we were sitting there. I was still processing everything in my
head and heard Wanda say something, but I wasn’t paying attention.
“Do what, Wanda? I’m sorry, I was thinking.” I was trying to smile and failing miserably
at it.
“Inky Pinky, I said I also told the cops that Terri had given Jaimie a red go-cup right before
the parade started.”
I shut my eyes, and I could feel the tears making their way south on my face. My phone
pinged. Wiping the tears from my eyes, note to self, don’t use the same napkin for tears that
you’ve just wiped your lips with that had Tabasco sauce on them. Tommy had texted me. “Josh
is dead. Terri and the kids are gone.”
I got up from my seat. “Wanda, I’ve got to make a phone call. I’ll be right back.”
Walking outside, I called Terri. I had a one-word question for her. “Why?”
She sounded relaxed, cheerful almost. “Why? I was tired of always being number two.
Number one, you win. Number three, you’re just happy you’re in the top three. Number two,
you always wonder what it takes to be number one and no matter what you do, you’re still
number two.”
Then an ugliness I had never heard before crept into her voice. “Josh was sleeping with
Jaimie. She had given him a hundred thousand dollars for some online money-making scheme
he’d come up with. It was one thing for him to sleep around, it was another thing for him to
sleep with my number one nemesis. I couldn’t take it anymore, Bestie. They both had to go.”
She laughed, “It was so easy. I took my electrolyte drink in with me. It had lead acetate in
it and I simply poured some in Jaimie’s drink. You can’t taste it and it acts fairly quickly...”
she paused, “or maybe it was another one of those chemicals I looked up online. I took my

drink home with me and, as far as I know, the cops still haven’t figured it out or, if they have,
they have no clue how Jaimie got it.”
How could we have been BFFs and I never knew this side of her? She had gone completely
over the edge of reality into the land of cray-cray. I was heartbroken. “Girl...Terri...”
“I love you, Bestie. I wish you much success in your writing. Heck,” she laughed, “write
a bestseller about the Monster Bash party.” Pausing for a moment, she whispered, “Bolivia
doesn’t have an extradition agreement with the U.S., and that hundred thousand dollars will
last a really long time there.”
Then, in a much louder voice, “I have to go, the plane is boarding. I won’t have a phone
anymore.”
My phone pinged again. Looking at the text message, I couldn’t help it, I had to laugh. My
BFF still had a sense of humor. There was a little red heart and the words ‘ghouls just wanna
have fun.’
How could I laugh as the tears were cascading down my cheeks? I felt like I couldn’t
breathe. The green-eyed monster of jealousy caused Terri to murder two people. I guess Holy
Guacamole green is her color after all.

Sharon E. Buck currently resides in Jacksonville, FL where her friends think she sits around
eating chocolate bonbons, lying by the pool, and soaking up sunshine. In reality, she sits behind

a computer writing words and working hard on a tan from the glowing blue light of her laptop.
Her favorite sayings really capture her style – fun, witty, and engaging - “my imagination
becomes your entertainment” and “a little sass, a little snark, and a whole lot of silliness.” Visit
SharonEBuck.com and receive a FREE book.

 

Murder at the Manor
Bellamina Court

As I waited for Tina and Nikki at the airport, I opened the TNT Girls' email thread.
I am so excited that we are finally getting our girls’ weekend! ~Trish
I don’t think we have all been together since my bachelorette
weekend! I can’t wait to see you both! xx, Tina
Remember when we promised we would get together every year?
Ha-ha. Tina got married five years ago. -Nikki
Ah, the naivety of youth, before we realized how little things like
work and family would get in the way. ~Trish
This is the year! It's going to be so much fun! xx, Tina
We were randomly assigned as roommates during our freshman year of college. We
quickly became inseparable, always attending parties together, and because our names are
Trish, Nikki, and Tina, people started collectively calling us TNT. I swear we had nothing to
do with the bomb scare at the Omegas or the fire at Delta. We were explosive, just not literally.
After college, I took a job as an editorial assistant at Palm Pointe Publishing. Last year,
they moved me to the Juniper Beach office to work directly with Sylvie Prescott. Nikki ignored
her newly earned journalism degree and became a bounty hunter, while Tina opened a boutique
shop, married her college sweetheart, Jack, and had twins, all in less than two years. It has been
so long since we have all been able to get together. In January, we made it our resolution to
find time this year for a girls’ weekend.
We found the perfect activity for our time together: a murder mystery experience at the
old Beaubien Manor bed-and-breakfast. Okay, so the murder mystery part is just Saturday
dinner, but we're meeting tonight to catch up over margaritas. There's so much catching up to
be done! I haven’t even told them I was fired.
The idea for our weekend adventure actually came from a former college classmate. Being
new to the area, I was surprised to run into Lucas at the supermarket. I had no idea he lived in
Juniper Beach.
Lucas is the son of the proprietors of Beaubien Manor. His parents retired earlier this year.
Lucas and his siblings had their own lives, but he didn’t want to give up his parents' dream.
The manor has been empty most of the year as Lucas made arrangements to move back to
Juniper Beach.

Beaubien Manor isn’t quite ready for the grand reopening, but Lucas and his siblings didn’t
want to miss a year of their annual Murder Mystery dinner, so they are hosting a soft opening
on Halloween.
Relatively new to town, I hadn’t heard of the manor, its rich history, or the annual
festivities. You know how it is. Once you hear about something, you hear stories about it
everywhere. There are several variations of the story, but the basics are the same. In the late
1600s, a pirate captain allegedly buried his treasure somewhere on the property. In 1684,
William Beaubien built a home on the land where the treasure was supposedly buried.
Rumor was that every year on Halloween, Captain Sterling’s ghost was found digging
holes on the property, looking for his lost fortune. The legend continues that once every fifty
years, Captain Sterling becomes convinced his treasure was stolen from him and he kills the
first person found digging on the property. Over three hundred years later, the holes continue
to appear annually on Halloween. Some believe it to be mostly harmless pranks by mischievous
teens. Others are adamant that the ghost of Captain Sterling is looking for his buried treasure.
It was easy to spot my best friends at the airport. Nikki’s slow saunter countered Tina’s
quick zigzag around the other passengers as she hurried toward me.
Tina pulled us both into a fierce hug. “Ohmygosh! Itissogoodtoseeyougals!” Her words
poured out like a rushing river, practically cascading over each other, nearly impossible to
decipher.
“Dang, Tina! I forgot how fast you talk when you're excited,” I laughed.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s great to see y’all. Now, let’s get a drink.”
I lightly punched Nikki. “Sometimes, I swear that is the only thing you think about.”
“Not true. The whole plane ride here I was thinking about all the fun I could have had with
my latest bounty–had I decided to take a detour before turning him in.” Nikki wiggled her
eyebrows.
“Oh, you are so bad. Tell us more! Married with kids doesn’t allow for such, um,
imaginations.”
I gasped, “Tina, that can’t be the case. You and Jack were always sneaking off
somewhere.”
“Were, past tense. We have two young kids now. Jack works crazy hours, and the boutique
takes everything I have left. Enough about me, Trish, how are you?” Tina nudged me with her
elbow.
“So, um, about those drinks, the Cantina serves fabulous margaritas.”
“Ohh,” said Nikki and Tina at the same time.

“The Manor is a couple of miles outside of town. Let’s check in, then take an Uber for
drinks and dinner.”
Tina shoved her finger in my face. “Fine, but don’t think you're getting off that easy.”
I put up my hands defensively, “Okay, okay.”
We hefted our luggage from the Uber and pulled them behind us as we walked up the path
to Beaubien Manor. There was a man crouched by the flower beds. He seemed to be setting up
Halloween decorations.
“Hello!” we said in unison.
He gave a wave without looking up and continued working.
We walked up the sidewalk that was lined with floating ghost lights. The front lawn was
set up like a graveyard, complete with plastic tombstones that had artificial spider webs draped
across them. We pushed aside the decorations covering the entrance of the bed-and-breakfast.
The waxy fake webs clinging to our arms and the cheap plastic spiders tickling our fingers and
catching in our sweaters. We walked to the desk and found a note. Welcome to Beaubien
Manor. Please enjoy this complimentary bottle of wine. I'm sorry we couldn't be there to
greet you ourselves. Todd and I are getting my house ready for our sister’s visit. We have set
you up in three rooms on the second floor. You will find your keys in the mail slot with your
names on the envelopes. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow. Later tonight, my brother
Todd will be working on the grounds and getting decorations set up for our Halloween
festivities. Please let him know if you need anything. Lucas

“I can honestly say this is the first time I have ever checked myself into a bed-and-
breakfast,” Tina giggled.

Nikki grabbed the wine and glasses. “This is what I’m talkin’ about!”
“Let's drop our bags in our rooms and then explore the house before we go to the Cantina.
It could give us a leg up for the dinner theater tomorrow if we know the layout of the house.”
“Trish, that is a great idea! You are always plotting for the win. Speaking of wins, how did
your pitch to Sylvie go?”
Now was as good a time as any to tell them I no longer worked for Palm Pointe. We talked
as we explored the beautiful old mansion.
“Um. Not as well as I had hoped. She wasn’t interested in the debut author I found.”
“I’m so sorry. You mentioned you thought it would be a hard sell, that she prefers to work
with already established authors.”
I chewed my bottom lip and nodded.
“Trish, what did you do?” asked Nikki.

“I, er, well, she turned down the pitch before I even told her the plot of the book. Then she
asked what I was thinking.”
“Oh no!” Nikki and Tina said at the same time. I could tell they were trying to stifle a
giggle.
“Did she fire you?” Tina asked.
I nodded. “It’s all good. We all know that I need to work for myself. This face and mouth
can’t have a boss.”
Tina looked at me, concern etched across her face. “What’s the plan now, Trish?”
“I’ve been squirreling away funds for a rainy day. I’m going to work on my novel through
the end of the year. It should be ready to publish early next year. There are a couple of
magazines that buy articles from me regularly and, depending on how much the novel brings
in, I should be able to write full-time. If I’m not bringing in enough between the magazines and
my novel, I can always work at the bookstore. Now let’s get back to exploring!”
Nikki and Tina still looked concerned, but I marched into the hallway, determined to drop
the topic of losing my job.
“Guys, look at this grandfather clock. It's huge. I bet I could fit inside.” Nikki opened the
door and discovered a secret passage.
“Ohmygosh! That is so cool! Let’s see where it goes. I bet there are more hidden doorways.
You know they’ll use these during the mystery dinner. It would be a terrible waste if they
don’t.”
“It might be fun to see if we can find other entrances from the outside before exploring the
passage.”
“I love that idea, Trish!” Tina sprinted up the stairs. “Like this antique wardrobe, it could
totally be an entrance.” She pulled open the doors and moved aside the coats that hung inside.
“Or not.”
“Ooh, look at this full-length mirror. It could be another way into the secret passages.” I
pushed the mirror to the side, revealing a dark hallway.
“Okay, guys, at first finding secret passages was exciting, but now I am concerned there
might be entrances in our rooms.”
“Nikki, your job has really given you quite the imagination.” I laughed.
“Maybe, but I’d still feel better if we checked our rooms.”
Tina and I shook our heads but agreed that it couldn’t hurt to look. We returned to the hall
outside our rooms. “Whose room should we check first?” I asked.
“Mine. I noticed a mini bar earlier. I’m going to pour myself a drink.”

“Of course you are, Nikki,” I said with a chuckle.
“Do either of you want anything?”
“Yes. I’d love a cosmopolitan.”
“Tina, I’m not a freaking bartender.” Nikki grabbed two bottles from the fridge. “You can
have beer or wine.”
Tina laughed. “Wine.”
“What do you say?” Nikki said in a sing-songy voice.
Tina threw a pillow at Nikki. “Please.”
Tina and I thoroughly checked the room while Nikki poured the drinks. We didn't find any
hidden doors in Nikki’s room.
“Well, that's a relief,” Nikki said. “Let’s check the other two rooms.”
Thankfully, we didn't find anything of concern in either Tina’s or my rooms. But I was
suitably jealous of the enormous bookcase in Tina’s room.
“Guys, we better get some food in Tina before these drinks go to her head.”
“What? You think just because I'm married with children that I can’t hold my alcohol
anymore? Come on, Nikki, you know me better than that.” And she promptly tripped over the
cedar chest at the foot of my bed.
“Riiight. You obviously still have the same tolerance you had in college. Lightweight.”
Nikki laughed.
“Let’s order a ride and head to the Cantina.” I looked at my phone. “I don’t have a signal.
Do either of you?”
Nikki and Tina looked at their phones.
“I do.” Tina raised her phone.
While we waited for our ride, I told Nikki and Tina the legend of Captain Sterling.
“That is a fascinating story! Are there really holes dug every year?” Tina asked.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I only recently heard the story.”
Nikki rolled her eyes. “Of course not. It's just a ruse for the tourists.”
When we returned a few hours and a couple of margaritas later, the house was dark.
We flipped the light switch, but the lights didn't turn on.
“A fuse must have blown. I don't know where the fuse box is located. I’ll call Lucas and
ask him about it.” I pulled out my phone but didn’t have cell reception. “Do either of you have
any cell reception?”
They both checked their phones only to see ‘no signal’ displayed in red.

“I noticed a phone on the desk when we checked in. I’ll try that.” I picked up the receiver,
hearing nothing, I returned it to the cradle. "Phone is dead, too." I sighed. “I guess we need to
find the fuse box.”
I turned on my phone flashlight and rummaged in the drawers of the desk, hoping to find
a real flashlight so we wouldn’t run down the batteries on our phones. Finding one, I flipped it
on and turned off the one on my phone.
“The most logical place for a fuse box is the basement,” Nikki said, shaking her head. “I’m
not looking forward to going down there in the dark.”
“B-A-S-E-M-E-N-T” Tina clapped as she said each letter. “To the basement!” she yelled.
“Tina, we aren’t cheering our team to victory. We are just looking for the fuse box.”
Tina giggled. “I didn’t even realize I did that. It's a habit. Cheering often helps motivate
my twins when they don’t want to help clean up their toys.”
We hadn’t toured the basement during our earlier exploration of the property. The wooden
stairs creaked as we descended them. The basement was cool and damp, and it smelled musty.
It was much larger than we expected, with naked lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling with
strings to turn them on. Eventually, we found the fuse box.
“Here’s the problem. There’s a fuse missing.”
“Nikki, you mean a breaker needs flipped, right?” I asked.
“No. This system hasn’t been upgraded, and it still uses physical fuses. These old units are
notorious for blowing fuses but not missing them.”
“Someone intentionally took it out. Why would they do that?” I asked.
“One probably blew, and they took it out to replace it, but discovered they didn’t have
extras down here. Let’s look around. If we don’t find any here, we can look in the office area.”
I started searching the cupboards near the fuse box. Not finding any, we headed upstairs.
We searched the office but didn't find replacement fuses there either. I shrugged. “Not much
to be done about it tonight, I guess.”
Tina started bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Let’s light a fire in the library. We can talk
by the fire, maybe even tell some Halloween ghost stories!”
“Your enthusiasm is contagious, Tina. Let’s do it. But first, these heels have got to go! My
feet are killing me.”
We placed our shoes by the front door and padded into the library barefoot.
Tina knelt in front of the fireplace. “Good news, guys. This is a gas fireplace.” She turned
the nozzle and fire sprouted from the fake logs.

“It’s odd that they upgraded the fireplace and not the electrical,” Nikki mused as she
headed for one of the chairs circling the fireplace.
Nikki stopped suddenly in front of me, causing me to bump into her. “Yo, Nik, keep it
moving.” I laughed.
“Um, guys?”
I peered over Nikki’s shoulder to see what she was looking at. There was a man slouched
in the recliner in front of her. There was a reddish-brown stain next to him on the headrest.
“Is...is that blood?” I asked.
“This is the ultimate buzz kill,” Nikki said as she approached the man. She touched his
arm, and it flopped off the armrest. Her eyes were wide as she placed her fingers on his neck
to check his pulse. She shook her head and moved her hand under his nose. “I don’t feel a pulse
or detect any breathing. I think he’s dead.”
“Did they start the mystery early?” Tina looked around the room and was almost giddy
with excitement.
I joined Nikki by the man, who looked a lot like Lucas. I pulled my leather gloves out of
my jacket and adjusted his head with a gloved hand. There was a large bloody gash on his head.
“Uh, I...I don’t think so. I think he is actually dead.” Just then, there was a loud crash as we
heard someone run through the house and a door slammed shut.
Tina and I screamed.
Nikki grumbled, “Still want to tell ghost stories, Tina?”
I walked to the phone on the table and lifted the receiver. It was still dead. I checked my
phone and had one bar of signal. “I don’t know how long I'll have a signal. I’ll call Lucas. He
lives in the old servants' quarters on the edge of the property. He can get here faster than the
police.” The call rang through to his voicemail. “Uh, Lucas, this is Trish. When we returned
from dinner, the power was out and we just found an unconscious, possibly dead man. I believe
might be Todd in the library.” I went to disconnect the call, “Oh shoot! I lost the signal
somewhere during the message.”
“Trish! Really? That is the message you left?”
“What was I supposed to say, Nikki? ‘Hey Lucas, we ran into a snafu. Could you call me
at your earliest convenience?’”
Nikki shook her head. “I should have made the call.”
Tina patted my shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Trish. It’s done now.”
"Should we walk over to his place?" Nikki asked.

I shook my head. "I don't know for sure where it is. It's probably better if we don't go
traipsing around in the dark."
“I guess we are on our own.” Nikki looked around the room. “I think we should try to
figure out what happened. We’ll start in here and, hopefully, we will find something that will
tell us what to do next.”
Tina looked around the room nervously. “Do you really think we should? I mean, wouldn’t
we be contaminating the scene or something? It’s not like we’re trained investigators.”
“Well, I can’t just sit around waiting for Lucas and the police to get here. We don’t even
know when Trish's phone lost the signal. Lucas might not get any message at all. We’ll be
careful to not disturb anything, and we can wear our gloves.”
We turned on our flashlights and started looking around the body first, then worked our
way out looking for clues.
There was a loud clang, then Nikki said, “I just stumbled on the murder weapon.”
“Nik, where are you?”
“I tripped on a shovel and fell. I am stuck between the wall and the couch with the stupid
thing.”
“Don’t touch it! It’s evidence.”
“Thank you, Captain Obvious. And it's too late; I fell on the blooming thing. So far, I have
managed to not put my hands on it. To keep it that way, Trish, I’m going to need you to help
me up.”
“Let me. I’m closer.”
“No way, Tina. You have kids. I am not risking your prints being on here.”
“What am I? Disposable?” I joked.
I helped Nikki extract herself from behind the couch. As the flashlight glinted on the wall,
I noticed a blood spatter pattern. “Hmm. That's weird.”
“What’s weird?” Tina asked.
“See the blood spatter by the shovel? If he was hit while sitting in the chair, there should
be spattering there, but I don’t recall seeing any. We should look again.”
“Trish, you're right! There is a big pool of blood behind his head where it was resting on
the chair, but there are no smaller drops anywhere around.”
“That means he was moved to the chair after he was hit. This would be easier if there were
more light,” I said, my voice shrill.
As if in answer to a prayer, the library suddenly lit up, as did the adjacent rooms.

“Thank goodness!” Tina and I exclaimed in unison.

“Uh, guys, that’s not good!” ...