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“That’s it! We’re leaving,” Mom says, backing away from the mirror as if it were about to swallow her whole.

I’m with Grandma, Fish yowls at the top of her lungs. I’m a celebrity cat. Get me out of here!

Duchess spikes up next to her. I’m the celebrity around here. I had a TV show. I need to be escorted off the premises posthaste before we all get sucked into the mirror!

“Not so fast, toots,” Georgie fires back. “We’re not going anywhere. Except maybe the afterlife.”

Mom nods. “That’s what I’m afraid of!”

A woman near the front of the crowd actually faints. Two staff members rush over to help her, and Miss Kitty doesn’t even break character. She’s still giggling away and explaining that “Ravenswood Manor has been haunted for two hundred years! The spirits are friendly! Mostly!”

I’m watching her perform, and watching the way she works the crowd as her thoughts sail my way, hot and heavy. They love this. They always love this. This is MY show. Not Clawdia’s. MINE. She said I couldn’t do this without her. She said I’d fail. But look at this. Look at them. I don’t need her anymore. Why, I don’t think I ever did.

The bitterness in that last thought is sharp enough to cut someone’s heart out. And it does make me question if Kitty cut Clawdia’s heart out, at least proverbially.

The tour wraps up, and the crowd disperses. Photos, questions, meet-and-greet requests. Mom and Georgie are still examining the mirrors, trying to figure out how the illusions work. Sherlock is doing his best to disappear before the ghosts eat him—his words, not mine—and Fish and Duchess have officially retreated fully into the tote bag.

Miss Kitty steps away from the crowd for a moment to check her phone, and her entire demeanor changes. The bubbly façade drops, and she looks tired. Worried, maybe. Perhaps even guilty.

This is my chance.

I hand the tote bag with Fish and Duchess to Georgie. “Watch them. I’ll be right back.”

I’d take them with me, but at this point they’re more of a liability, right along with Georgie.

“Are you going to pin the murder on the pink one?” Georgie asks with a wicked grin.

“Only if she did it.” Although, I’m tempted to pin this on just about anyone and call it a case. I can’t help it. Halloween is in just a few days, and I really want to enjoy the rest of spooky season doing not-so-spooky things with my sweet baby girl.

Just as I start walking toward Miss Kitty, she looks up from her phone and her expression shifts. The bubbly smile comes back, but there’s something underneath it now. Something that looks a lot like fear.

Time to find out what Miss Kitty and Clawdia were working on.

And whether it was truly to die for.

CHAPTER 12

Miss Kitty’s smile broadens as I head in her direction, right here in the haunted heart of Ravenswood Manor.

“Hey there! Did you enjoy the tour?” She sounds exactly like someone who’s used to performing at the height of her enthusiasm for a living, which sort of makes sense given her entire career is built on being perky while talking about dead people. She’s dressed in pink from head to toe, and her pink pigtails add to the pastel magic.

“It was definitely memorable,” I say. “I’m Bizzy Baker Wilder. I own the Country Cottage Inn where the Scream Queens Festival is being held.”

Her smile falters. “Oh. You’re the one... that’s awful. I’m so sorry you had to find her like that.” She knows who I am. I bet she’s seen my show. Maybe she’s a superfan? Who could blame her? I’m adorable. The smile fades from her face. What does she want, anyway? Her mouth falls open a notch. Please don’t let her ask about the documentary. I’m not in any mood to deal with that today, or ever. You have one bad hair day and your entire future starts to unravel.

I file that away for later.

Miss Kitty is fidgeting wildly with her pink tulle skirt, twisting the fabric between her fingers as the ghosts in the mirrors still flicker in the background behind her, which is both distracting and vaguely unsettling. The rest of the tour group is taking photos and examining the mirrors, and Mom and Georgie are still trying to figure out how the illusions work. I’m starting to get the feeling there are no illusions.

“Everything is fantastic here,” I tell her. “We’re really enjoying the tour. And you’re really good at giving it.”

“Aren’t you the sweetest!” she squeals with delight. “I do try.” She presses her lips tight. “It was supposed to be headlined with Countess Clawdia, of course. But well, I know she would have wanted the show to go on. She was nothing but professional. Her fans always came first.”

“Did you and Clawdia work together a lot?” I ask, more than happy that she opened the door to the topic.

Miss Kitty relaxes just a bit. She looks so very young and beautiful that I can see why so many are smitten with her.

“Yeah. She was... she was kind of my mentor. I started out as a huge fan of her show, and she took me under her wing. She helped me build my YouTube channel from scratch.” She smiles, and this one looks a little forlorn. “She taught me everything about horror hosting. How to work a camera, how to build suspense, how to make people laugh and scream at the same time.” Her lips tremble, and she wipes a tear from the corner of her eye with her pinkie.