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I’m not touching that one.

Those costumes are remarkably ambitious, Duchess notes. Are they headlining an event?

Only in their own minds, Fish mutters.

Georgie scoops up Duchess and plants a kiss on her furry little forehead. “So. Who’s our first suspect?”

Mom sidles up next to her with her cape tangling into what will soon become a strangulation device. “We need a game plan.”

“We?” I inch back.

She nods. “Obviously we’re helping. You can’t solve a murder alone.”

“Plus, we have insider access,” Georgie adds. “We’re registered for all the events.”

“Okay, fine.” I pull out my phone and check the Scream Queens schedule. “Let’s see who’s speaking today.”

They both yank out crumpled itineraries.

“Vampyra Vex,” Georgie says, beating me to it.

Mom nods. “Her panel is called ‘Embracing Your Inner Monster.’”

I look over at Duchess, who’s curled up in Georgie’s arms and quickly making a home in her bosom and cuddling with one of the bats floating down from the wig.

Jasper’s text burns in my mind. Poison. Fast-acting. Someone planned this.

Vampyra Vex was on that stage. She drank from the same batch of cocktails. She has a quasi-motive—Clawdia humiliated her during that toast.

Time to figure out which monster killed Countess Clawdia.

And I need to do it before they kill again.

CHAPTER 6

“Red, do you think the hot vampires will notice these?” Georgie asks, adjusting her corset as we approach the festival grounds. She gives her corset a tug and gestures proudly to the girls, who are currently leading the procession by a good six inches. “Because I didn’t suffer through this underwire situation for nothing.”

Mom sighs. “Georgie, I think everyone within a five-mile radius has already noticed.”

“Good.” Georgie gives herself another boost. “I’d hate to think I was cutting off circulation to vital organs without a payoff.”

I glance at the amount of Georgie currently being asked to remain inside that corset.

Something tells me the vampires aren’t going to be the problem.

Containment is.

By the time dusk settles over the Spider Cove Halloween Harvest Festival, the entire property has transformed into full carnival chaos mode. Orange and purple twinkle lights are draped through the trees that line the back of the grounds, jack-o’-lanterns glow along every pathway, and fog machines are pumping out atmosphere like their lives depend on it.

The air smells like caramel apples, kettle corn, funnel cakes, and hot cider, and approximately five hundred people in costumes are wandering around eating carnival food and taking selfies with every decoration in sight.

I’m pushing Ella’s stroller through the crowd, and we’re both in costume. I went with a classic horror hostess look—black velvet dress, dramatic cape, just enough makeup to look spooky without scaring my child.

Ella is dressed as a tiny pumpkin, and she’s been giggling nonstop since I zipped her into the orange fluffball this afternoon.

Earlier, she and Elliot “helped” paint pumpkins at the carving stations, which mostly involved Ella smearing orange paint on her face and Elliot eating a paintbrush. It was adorable and messy and exactly what you’d expect from two one-year-olds with access to art supplies.

I didn’t dare tell Jasper I was coming to this panel. He’s still at the station working the case, and if I mentioned I was planning to attend a Scream Queens event featuring one of my top suspects, he’d probably arrest me himself just to keep me safe. But this panel is happening on my property. I own this inn. I have every right to be here.