Krewe of Hunters The Evil Inside 4 (24 page)

Curious, he looked around a bit more and caught sight of something in the middle of one of the big overheard mirrors. What appeared to be a big lump sat on the floor, right around the corner, in the breakfast section.

The lump moved.

Milton groaned.

Well, Mabel had warned him. Or maybe the prankster or wino had been in the store and she hadn’t seen him when she’d left.

“Hey, come on—we’re closed!” Milton said.

The shadow rose. Milton could see it in the mirror.
Halloween prankster!
he thought with sheer irritation. And on a Saturday night, right when he’d been looking forward to his Sunday!

The person was wearing some ridiculous goat mask. Or a devil mask. Hard to tell which. The thing had creases and lines and horns.

“Buddy, we’re closed! Come on, now—don’t make me call the cops!”

But the creature whisked around again, heading into the canned goods.

Milton pulled his cell phone from his pocket.

“Last chance. I’m calling the police!”

He started to hear a rumbling just as he reached an aisle where a giant stack of gallon-sized tins of olive oil had been aligned.

He paused, frowning.

Then his heart began to race and his instincts warned him to back up—quickly.

He couldn’t move quickly enough.

The first can caught him right in the forehead, and he saw stars. His legs went weak and he fell to his knees.

The next can broke his nose.

And then he wasn’t sure what happened. One hit his shoulder, one his head again, and then he was aware of one coming straight for his eyes as he blinked and tried to look up.

He didn’t feel anything after that.

He wasn’t aware when another twenty cans fell on top of him, halfway burying him. One burst open, and olive oil spilled over his bruised body.

He was aware when the shadow, the creature, the goat or horned devil, came walking around the aisle.

The creature didn’t touch him.

It looked, stepped around him and hurried out of the store. On the street, the horned god swiftly joined a group of costumed revelers and blended into the crowd.

“T
here’s a party tonight,” Sam said. No
hi, what are you doing, what’s going on, good to talk to you, so glad you answered….

“A party?” Jenna said. “Um, are you inviting us?” she asked.

“Of course. It’s important, I think, that we all go. You got a costume? It’s a costume party,” he explained. “Actually, it’s being put on as a charity event by Ivy and Cecilia’s coven—the Coven of Light. The ticket sales benefit the children’s hospital. It’s all for a really good cause.”

“And that’s why we’re going?” Jenna asked.

“It never hurts when you can aid in a good cause,” Sam said over the phone.

“When—where?”

“It’s in the ballroom of one of the new hotels down by the wharf—not far from the House of the Seven Gables. I’ll pick you all up in an hour.”

“An hour! But—we
don’t
have costumes.”

“Just run down to the shops across from the Peabody Essex Museum. There are three or four right there that sell all kinds of things. All right, I’ll get you in an hour and a half.”

She hung up and walked back to the parlor where Jamie was talking to Angela and Jackson. “We’re going to a costume party. We have to get costumes. Quickly.”

“Oh, no. I’ve lived here way too long,” Jamie said. “I’m opting out of this. I’ll be here. If you need me for anything, just give me a call.”

“We really have to get costumes?” Angela asked.

“Yes, and quickly, let’s run!”

Most of what they were able to find so close to Halloween and on such quick notice were Wiccan capes and Goth clothing. Jackson went with a simple black mask and black cloak. Angela found a cat costume, and Jenna decided that she’d try a modern Goth outfit with a ribbon corset and long velvet skirt and a shimmering purple hooded cloak. The clerk seemed deliriously pleased that they made their selections and paid so quickly.

They ran back to the house and dressed, Jenna using Jamie’s room, since she’d given her own to Angela and Jackson.

Jamie tapped on the door just as she was finishing up. She opened the door and he offered her an affectionate but flattering long whistle.

“Thanks. Maybe I should get a nose ring.”

“Ah, nose rings, in my opinion, are dangerous,” Jamie said. “You never know when someone might decide to lead you around by one. Seriously, lass, you’re looking great! I just wanted to tell you to be careful out there tonight.”

“Jamie, I’m always careful. I’ll be with Jackson and Angela—and Sam, of course.”

“Ah, yes, Sam,” he said, studying her with a twinkle in his eye.

“Jamie, I—”

“Lass, you owe me no explanations. You’re all grown-up now, you know.”

“Yes, I know, but…this is probably just circumstances—we’re being thrown together. And I don’t think that…I don’t think that Sam is capable of really believing in me, or even beginning to understand me.”

Jamie laughed. “Ah, well, that’s to be seen, isn’t it? Sometimes we’re far too hard on the ken of those around us.”

She laughed. “Well, I’m not sure I understand him, then. How about that?” she asked.

He smiled and took a moment. “Sam Hall is a far better man than I think he ever knew. Maybe he’s discovering it now himself. Anyway, he’s here.”

“Oh!”

She gave her uncle a kiss on the forehead and hurried out. Sam, Jackson and Angela were waiting for her. Sam, like Jackson, had gone for simplicity. He was wearing a black poet’s shirt and black jeans beneath a black cape.

He stared at her a moment, then he smiled. “Wow,” he murmured.

“Thanks. You’re pretty wow, too.”

“Jenna,” Jackson broke in. “Sam was just telling me that the police verified Marty Keller’s alibi for the day that Peter Andres was killed, so even with the trace evidence of Peter Andres’s blood on the costume, he’s probably clean. But what a good find you made.”

Jenna looked at Sam. He was still studying her. “You were right,” he said. “About the costume, I mean.”

She nodded, not sure of what to say. “So?”

“The school will be under guard until Monday morning,” Sam said. “Then, the cops will go in and try to find out more about the costume. Thing is—access. Almost eight hundred kids might have had access. Not to mention teachers and parents.”

“We’ll have to wait till Monday,” she said.

Sam nodded.

“So, we’re scoping the local scene?” Jackson said.

“There should be quite an array of characters at the party,” Sam said. “Councilman Yates and his wife make appearances. Seniors from the various schools are tacitly admitted. I guess it’s kind of a rite of passage. We won’t see anyone from the Old Meeting House, but we should see Wiccans, every other belief held in the area, performers—and mediums, such as Madam Samantha Yeager.”

“Sounds good,” Jackson said. “Let’s head out.”

The new hotel was modern and beautiful. The entry was grand, and a red velvet runner led to the ballroom. A large sign over the double-door entry read, Blessed Be! Welcome One and All!

Beneath the giant sign was one in smaller print.
Frankenstein’s monster and werewolves enter. Princes and princesses. Leprechauns, blobs, vampires, faeries, do come in! No crones, no hags, no warted beings on broomsticks. Only beautiful, modern Wiccan dress allowed!

“What if I’d wanted to be Maleficent, from the Disney movie?” Angela whispered.

“You’d be cool,” Sam said, grinning. “She was a fairy!”

“Oh! You made it!” came a loud voice.

Jenna didn’t realize at first that the wood nymph in the colorful eye mask who hugged her at the door was Cecilia.

“Of course. Thank you so much for having us. Oh, Cecilia, meet my friends, please!” Jenna said, and performed the introductions.

Cecilia laughed. “Hey, Sam gave us a very nice donation over the price of the tickets. And it
is
for a good cause. The area covens get together to donate their time, decorating expertise and money to put this on. All the revenue goes to the children’s hospital.”

“That’s wonderful,” Jenna assured her.

“Go in! Eat, drink, be merry and dance like a maniac!”

They went in. Jackson and Sam went for drinks with colorful names such as
Wiccan’s Brew, Bloody Mary and Lew, Hallowine, All Souls-Tinis
and
Salem-hattans.

“Look!” Angela said suddenly.

Jenna turned. There, not ten feet away, was a party-goer dressed as the horned god.

She started toward the being, but Angela tugged at her arm. “And over there!”

In the other direction, there was another horned god. This one, however, was busy drinking, and his mask was pushed back. He was a man of about forty, with a friendly smile and a lot of laughter in his crinkled face as he chatted with the pretty belly dancer before him.

“Two more over there,” Angela said glumly.

“Wish we could just strip them all and have their costumes tested, too!” Jenna said.

Jackson and Sam returned. Sam handed her a glass. “Wiccan’s Brew.”

“What’s in it?”

“Bourbon, cranberry, Sprite, if I got it right. Liked the color,” he said and shrugged. “Should have been called
Witch’s Brew.
You know, don’t you, that they would have hanged you? Witchcraft, magic,
were
illegal. I’m not sure how I would have defended you.
If
they had allowed for the accused to hire defense, of course.”

“I have never danced with the devil,” she told him.

He smiled. She waited. “I just needed some time,” he said.

She nodded.

“And what did time do for you?”

“It made me know for certain that I didn’t want to sleep alone tonight.”

Jenna lowered her head, trying not to laugh. “I have a feeling there are dozens of women in this room who would keep you from that fate,” she told him. “Including the snake charmer over here. Madam Samantha Yeager is here. With her boa constrictor.”

“I draw the line at snakes in bed.”

“I’ll bet she’d give it up for you.”

“I just don’t think that you’d want to let her in,” he teased.

“And would you?”

“Nope, nope, don’t think so. Not in this lifetime, that’s for sure.”

“Ah, so do we have more lifetimes?”

He grew serious. “I believe that we do have something. The soul. Heart and soul. Whatever makes us unique. Whatever that is about me—nope, nope, still no. Just not my type. I love redheads. Especially when they have just a trace of an old accent.”

Jenna started to speak, but the band abruptly stopped playing and the microphone gave out a sudden loud shriek. “Ouch!” the speaker said.

He was dressed as a Native American, and looked good in the outfit. It was Councilman Yates.

“Welcome, one and all. The good sisters and brothers of the Coven of Light have allowed me to address you all. First, welcome, and thank you all for coming out for this wonderful ball, and for supporting our children in their need!”

His words were met by applause and shouts of approval.

“Secondly, we know that the area has been deeply concerned by some horrible things happening, and despite the fact that they have a suspect in custody, an investigation is still ongoing. I want to warn you all to be smart and practical—well, I mean as far as your personal safety goes! With the cops—be open and honest. Give them everything that they need. We’ve come a long, long way! We don’t give in to superstition, and we don’t condemn a man until he’s been proven guilty beyond a shadow of a doubt. That said, I know you’re all still going to whisper about recent developments, but while you’re doing that, be helpful and be careful. And that’s all I have to say, except, Blessed Be!”

The audience responded with applause and the band started up. Dancers drifted to the floor again. Jenna took a long swallow of her drink, which wasn’t half-bad.

“So, they’re all whispering. We’ll hear what they have to say,” Sam said, nodding to Jackson. The two, apparently, had found an instant and easy rapport.

“I’ll drift toward horned god number one,” Angela said.

“Think we’ll make it to all twenty of them?” Jackson asked.

Jenna adjusted the lace and black velvet eye mask she was wearing and drifted casually toward the stage. She’d noted that Councilman Yates had come down from the stage and was speaking to an outstandingly beautiful peacock.

He kissed her, and by moving a shade to her left, Jenna could see the peacock’s face. As she had expected, it was Councilman Yates’s wife, Cindy, the same woman she had seen on the playground the first day she had arrived chastising the children.

The same woman who seemed to hate Pastor Goodman Wilson so much. The mother of David Yates.

She decided to move closer.

“Why were you so late?” she heard Yates ask his wife.

“Me? Where were you when I was trying to get
our
daughter settled with the babysitter?”

“Cindy, you know I have responsibilities.”

“To everyone but your family!” Cindy replied.

She must have noticed Jenna near them because she looked right at her, frowned and turned away. Yates watched her go, letting out a weary sigh.

Jenna started to move on.

The microphone screeched again. The band stopped playing, the lights blinked and a spotlight shone on the dance floor.

Couples cleared off.

And a scantily clad snake charmer appeared. Samantha Yeager.

She was stunning with her long black hair, ribbed abs, and jeweled harem costume. She wore a gold snake crown around her forehead and held her boa high and undulated like the snake as she moved through the crowd. She swayed and sashayed with lithe talent, and a hush fell over the crowd.

She went from man to man, but she’d also draw women out onto the floor and try to entice them to dance with her.

At the end, she found Sam. She reached out with a free hand, touched his face and drew her hand down the length of his body before doing a sleek fall to the ground.

“Madam Samantha! See her for all your
mystic needs!
” the lead singer from the band cried out.

“It wasn’t my idea!”

Jenna turned to see that Ivy, lips pursed, was at her side. She looked at Jenna and grimaced. “She paid a lot for that performance.”

“Well, she’s getting a lot of applause. It will prove to be the ball of the season, I’m sure.”

“Slutty twit!” Ivy said, and, shaking her head, walked back toward the door, ready to welcome any latecomers.

Jenna was ready for another Wiccan’s Brew. As she headed over to one of the bars, Madam Samantha—in all her half-naked glory—cut in front of her. “Ah! Jenna Duffy. It’s not a party until the cops…er, Feds show up.”

“Incredible performance,” Jenna said. “Where’s your snake?”

“Oh, back in the cage…this is a lot of stimulation for a snake, you know.”

“I’m sure your snake is used to stimulation.”

“Food, sex, good wine…slinky pets!” Samantha said to her. “Oh, you’re not angry, are you? Your man is a stud, you know.”

“Why would I be angry?”

Samantha laughed. “Oh, honey! You can’t be that naive. Maybe he’s got the hots for you, but I’m sure I got a nice rise out him.”

Jenna was glad that the way the woman said the words actually and naturally made her laugh. She probably couldn’t have said or done anything more insulting, and she knew it because Samantha’s face turned a mottled shade or red.

“Sure,” Jenna said. “Excuse me, I was heading for the drink line. Can I get you anything?”

“Yeah. Yeah. You can get out of town. All you’re doing is hurting a lot of good people!”

“Noted. Now may I pass?”

“You going to
make
me move?” Samantha asked.

Jenna sighed. “I am a Fed, Miss Yeager. Lots of training under my belt,” she said softly.

Samantha moved. But as Jenna walked by, she warned, “You should get out of the
state.
You need to be careful. Whatever training you might have had, you’re not infallible. You could get hurt. I saw your cards, Agent Duffy. Actually, you could get
dead.
”