Chapter 23
“And where do you think you’re going?” Delora demands as I march toward the haunted house with murder on my mind.
The sounds of creepy music and distant laughter drift from the costume party behind us, while the scent of all things sweet permeates the air.
Purple and green lights continue their manic twinkling through the cemetery display, while Delora the Demented wields a rolling pin just like the one that the killer used that night.
I shoot her a look that could freeze the fountain solid. “To solve a murder in my own haunted house, now if you’ll excuse me.”
I scoop up Fish and Chip, their costumes rustling with indignation, and cut directly across the line of waiting customers—much to their immediate dismay and more than a few colorful choice words that would make a sailor blush.
“Hey!” someone shouts. “No cutting!”
“This is ridiculous!” another voice adds. “We’ve been waiting twenty minutes!”
I can hear Delora grunting and telling people off behind me as she pushes through the crowd with the subtlety of a bulldozer in pearls.
And she’s eliciting an entire gaggle of colorful words.
Come to think of it, most of those colorful words are coming from Delora herself, and she’s got a vocabulary that could educate a longshoreman.
We hit the entry, and I unhook the velvet rope that leads to an area reserved for staff, letting myself into the employee entrance with confidence because, well, I happen to own the place.
Delora bustles through before I can stop her, apparently deciding that following me into potential danger is preferable to explaining to the angry crowd why she just bulldozed through their line.
We don’t get three steps into the maze when Dilly’s hologram pops out with a mechanical shriek that just about scares the ghost out of all of us.
The flashing lights hit like a seizure-inducing assault of green and purple strobes, while fog machines pump mist thick enough to choke on.
Thunder crashes over the speakers with ear-splitting enthusiasm, followed by lightning effects that could probably be seen from the top of the castle in Storybook Hollow.
This place is barbaric, Fish yowls so loud, you’d think someone was trying to pluck her tail off. I’m surprised people aren’t having heart attacks nightly.
Now, that would be a liability. But would I shut this thing down? Probably not. I’d print up sweatshirts that said, I Survived Huckleberry Hollow’s Haunted House and All I Got Was a Lousy Heart Palpitation.
It’s a bit overstimulating, Chip agrees, his vampire cape twisted around his neck. Though the dramatic timing is impressive.
They really should tone things down around here. The lighting situation is practically a health hazard, and I’m genuinely shocked we don’t have an ambulance on standby for people with photosensitive health issues.
“This is an assault on the senses,” Delora mutters, clutching her rolling pin with white knuckles.
We turn a corner, and another body pops out of a casket with mechanical precision. All three of us scream as if we’re auditioning for a horror movie, only to discover it’s Georgie flailing around in her zombie bride costume.
“Help!” Georgie shrieks as Ree jumps out from behind a fake tombstone, trying to excavate her from the casket. “I’m stuck! This thing has a spring-loaded lid, and I can’t get out!”
“What are you doing in there?” I demand, still catching my breath from the scare.
“Research!” Georgie calls back as Ree tugs on her arms. “I wanted to see if the caskets were comfortable for impromptu napping!”
“And?”
“They’re not! They are very uncomfortable!”
“I’m on the hunt for a killer,” I tell them as Ree finally manages to pop Georgie free. “We need to find Nadine.”
The flour-dusted murderess, Fish gives a dark mewl. Armed with antique kitchen equipment and decades of resentment.
Also, probably excellent baking skills, Chip adds. Which makes her extra dangerous.
“You think Nadine did it?” Delora gasps, her hand flying to her throat with genuine surprise.
“I know she did it,” I correct grimly.
Delora clamps her hand over her mouth for a second, then her eyes widen with dawning horror.
“Of course!” she bursts out. “Dilly had secretly renegotiated the Sugar & Sass brand behind Nadine’s back—cutting her out of future royalties, including from branded Halloween merch and a new TV contract.
Nadine discovered a signed contract in Dilly’s travel case just before the murder.
Dilly planned to announce Nadine’s so-called retirement during the weekend as a surprise! ”
I stare at her. “How did you know that?”
Delora shrugs with the casual air of someone who’s just revealed state secrets. “I did a lot of eavesdropping in my day. You pick up a thing or two when people think you’re just the uptight event coordinator.”
“If I didn’t think she was the killer before, I know she is now,” I mutter, heading deeper into the haunted house maze.
We search through mechanical skeletons and rubber bats until we find her in the hall of spooky mirrors—each one featuring Dilly’s ghost making sarcastic comments about proper mirror maintenance and the declining standards of haunted house production values.
Nadine stands in the center of it all, staring at the multiple reflections of her dearly departed business partner with an expression that could chill champagne.
She looks guilty as sin, Fish remarks with a flick of her tail. Like she’s staring at her own handiwork.
Very unsettling energy, Chip agrees. Also, she smells like guilt and peppermint. You don’t think she has any peppermint cookies on hand, do you?
“Nadine,” I call out, my voice echoing off the mirrors with a slightly creepy effect.
She turns toward me, and her usual grandmotherly warmth has been replaced by something cold and calculating. “Oh, hello, dear. Just having a moment with my old partner.”
“Your old partner whom you murdered with a marble rolling pin,” I say, cutting straight to the chase because subtlety has never been my strong suit.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she replies, but her voice lacks conviction.
“Funny thing about that,” I continue, pulling out my phone to show her the crime scene photo. “You left your calling card. That antique copper measuring spoon with the pearl handle? Very distinctive. Very you.”
Nadine’s face goes pale beneath her flour-dusted makeup. “So that’s where I dropped it,” she gasps, the words tumbling out before she can stop them.
And there’s the confession, Fish notes with satisfaction. Criminals always trip themselves up with the details.
The silence stretches between us like a taut wire until Nadine’s shoulders sag in defeat. Just like a soufflé, criminals always collapse under pressure.
“Fine,” she says with bone-deep weariness after carrying a terrible secret for so long. “Yes, I killed her. That woman destroyed thirty years of my life, and she was about to steal my future, too.”
Georgie and Ree step out of the shadows where they’ve apparently been lurking, and Nadine realizes she’s surrounded by amateur detectives and their zombie vampire backup.
“You don’t understand,” Nadine continues, but she’s already edging toward the exit. “She was going to force me into retirement, take credit for everything we built together, and leave me with nothing!”
She makes a break for it, but Fish and Chip leap out of my arms with the agility of furry ninjas, landing squarely in her path.
Citizen’s arrest! Fish declares with authority. Nobody moves!
I’ve got her ankles! Chip adds, wrapping himself around Nadine’s legs with impressive determination, but Nadine presses on, determined to make a break for it.
We all follow her to the next section—a graveyard scene complete with fog machines and mechanical zombies—just as Nadine is about to escape through the emergency exit.
I jump on top of her with all the grace of a flying squirrel, followed immediately by Fish and Chip, who apparently think this is the best game ever invented.
Delora throws herself into the mix with surprising enthusiasm, and soon it’s a tangle of bodies, paws, rolling pins, and accusations.
Chip gets tangled in the woman’s hair, her braid circling his body like a noose.
And for the record, that marble rolling pin came dangerously close to my skull. Way to almost make it look like another accident happened on the premises, Delora.
“Everybody freeze!” comes a familiar voice that makes my heart do inappropriate things despite the homicidal circumstances.
Jasper and Dexter burst into the room with their weapons drawn, looking like the cavalry arriving just in time to save the day.
Just then, Dilly’s ghost pops out from behind one of the tombstones with mechanical precision.
“BOO!” the hologram shrieks with terrifying timing. “Did I scare you?”
Everyone screams, including the hot detectives, and Dilly’s ghost laughs herself silly while we all try to untangle ourselves from the pile of humans and cats.
Delora sits up with Chip glued to the top of her head, his paws knotted up in her silver hair that now looks like cotton candy that’s been through a hurricane.
“She did it,” I announce, pointing at Nadine while trying to extract Fish from my vampire cape costume. “She confessed to everything.”
Dexter cuffs Nadine with professional efficiency while Jasper hauls her to her feet, both men looking slightly shell-shocked by the chaos they’ve just witnessed.
“I’ll take care of the suspect,” Jasper announces, leading Nadine out of the haunted house and presumably toward a patrol car that doesn’t feature mechanical ghosts and seizure-inducing lighting.
As we all make our way back through the maze toward the exit, Georgie announces that she needs churros to recover from the trauma, and Ree agrees with the enthusiasm that only comes from narrowly escaping a murderer.
They walk off like a couple of zombies, which honestly fits their current aesthetic perfectly.
“Mother,” Dexter says once we’re back in the relatively sane environment of the costume party, “what were you doing in there?”
Delora gapes at him as if he’s just questioned her sanity. “What was I doing? I was trying to stop her from getting in the path of danger!”
Dexter frowns at me with intensity as if he’s torn between pride and exasperation.
“I caught a killer, didn’t I?” I point out reasonably.
Technically, we all caught the killer, Fish corrects. It was a team effort.
I provided crucial ankle support, Chip adds proudly. Very important tactical contribution.
“I need a drink,” Delora announces with finality, stalking off toward the refreshment stand with her dignity intact despite having cat hair in places cat hair should never be.
Dexter walks me over near the three-tiered fountain where the purple water shimmers under the party lights, and it’s finally quiet enough to have a conversation without shouting over mechanical witches.
Here we go again, Fish groans with the weary tone of a cat who’s witnessed too many romantic moments interrupted by criminal activity. Cue the smooching.
Just say the word, Josie, and I’ll push him into the fountain, Chip offers helpfully. For old times’ sake.
“Josie,” Dexter begins, his voice carrying that serious detective tone that usually means I’m about to get lectured about proper civilian behavior. “What were you thinking? You could have gotten yourself killed.”
I frown back at him as the water shimmers in his storm-blue eyes, and he looks far too handsome to be real under the party lights. “I liked it better last time when you saved the lecture and kissed me instead.”
Dexter doesn’t hesitate. He pulls me in hard and kisses me senseless, right there next to the purple fountain while Fish and Chip provide commentary that I’m choosing to ignore as the party continues around us with blissful chaos—and the occasional loose screams of terror.
His lips are warm and confident, and he tastes like possibility and the kind of trouble that’s worth getting into. When we finally break apart, I’m breathing hard, and my knees have forgotten their primary function.
“Better?” he asks, his voice rough around the edges.
“Much better,” I manage, wondering if solving murders always comes with this kind of reward system.
Because if catching killers means getting kissed by Detective Dreamboat under purple fountain lights while wearing an ill-fitted costume, I might just have found my new favorite hobby.