Page 15

I look past Jasper and scan the crowd, and that’s when more thoughts start filtering through.

Just act natural, another voice chirps. You didn’t do anything wrong.

Was she poisoned? someone gasps internally. That’s so pedestrian. I would have loved a good old-fashioned stabbing.

The insurance doesn’t cover murder. Morticia’s voice cuts through the chaos, and this time I’m close enough to know who it belongs to. What am I going to tell the sponsors? This was supposed to be my big break and now it’s a crime scene.

I hear Vampyra talking to another Scream Queen nearby. “I can’t believe this. She was just fine on stage.”

Ghoulia’s voice drifts over from the other direction. “Tragic. Though I did warn her those cocktails were too theatrical.”

And Miss Kitty, who’s currently filming herself on her phone, whispers into the camera, “You guys, I’m literally shaking. This is the worst night ever.” But the views are going to be insane.

Leo steps up onto the small stage platform and takes the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, I need everyone to remain calm. This is now an active crime scene. We’ll need statements from everyone who was near the stage during the toast. No one leaves the festival grounds until we’ve collected contact information.”

The crowd groans collectively.

“We’ll work as fast as we can,” Leo says, and his tone makes it clear that arguing won’t help.

I look back down at Duchess, who’s still sitting beside Clawdia’s body like she’s waiting for her owner to wake up.

Where will I go? I don’t know anyone here. I’m so very afraid.

I crouch down and scoop up the little cutie as she curls into my arms. She tucks her head under my chin, and I can feel her little heart beating erratically.

“It looks like we might have a guest for the night,” I say as Jasper leans in to give her a quick scratch.

“I don’t mind a bit. And she’s a potential witness. Don’t let her out of your sight. And seeing that you can read her mind—technically, yes, she’s a witness.”

I can’t argue with that logic.

Fish sits at my feet and looks up at me. Here we go again.

Sherlock barks. Does this mean no more turkey legs?

The festival lights are still twinkling overhead. The music is still playing faintly in the background, some upbeat Halloween remix that feels deeply inappropriate given the circumstances.

Countess Clawdia Noir is lying dead on the grass, her signature cocktail glass still glowing purple beside her. The woman who taught an entire generation of horror hostesses how to make an entrance now making her final exit in the most dramatic way possible.

She’s really gone. Like a problem solved forever, another thought floats my way.

I hated her with all my guts and now—and now I won’t be able to drink enough champagne to celebrate. Another voice sings.

I’m glad she’s dead, yet another voice chimes in. And I’m glad I was the one who did the lethal deed.

And there you have it.

It was murder.

Halloween is seven days away, and I’m already standing over a body.

This is going to be a long week.

CHAPTER 5

This place is magical! Duchess is pulsating with excitement as we push through the front door of the Country Cottage Inn. There are tiny pumpkins everywhere! And that skeleton by the door—is he real? Can I climb him?

Duchess, just wait until you see the kitchen, Sherlock says, tail wagging so hard his whole back end is wiggling. That’s where the magic happens. Emmie makes bacon. Every morning there’s a never-ending fresh batch of beautiful, tasty bacon!