Chapter 2

I had a lot to do today. Good thing I had help. I dressed quickly and drank a cup of coffee before Gillian joined me, every hair in place. I had no idea how she did it.

I yawned. “Morning.”

She popped a pod into the coffee machine. “Jack’ll be out in a few minutes. It takes him a while to get the blood flowing.”

“Runs in the family.” I yawned again.

Gillian pulled a face as she added half and half. “Did you get enough sleep?”

“I’m not sure what’s wrong with me. Lack of oxygen. Want eggs?”

“Eggs would be great. I have some breathing exercises that might help.” She sat down with her coffee.

Jack joined us. “Feels like a lazy day to me. Vacay.”

“Don’t even get in that mindset. We have loads to do today.”

I whipped up a batch of scrambled eggs with cream cheese and dill. As I put the platter of eggs on the oak trestle table, someone rapped on the back door. I pushed the worn charcoal and ivory ticking café curtain aside to reveal Dave standing on the stoop.

“Does he have radar? He shows up whenever we’re eating.” Gillian helped herself to the eggs.

“Food radar,” I said as I opened the door. “C’mon in, Dave. Want some breakfast?”

“I can leave if I’m interrupting.” But he made no move to go.

I smiled and shook my head. “No need. We have plenty.”

“Here.” Gillian handed Dave a plate.

He helped himself to the eggs and sat down next to Jack. I scanned the food on the table and added blueberry muffins I’d baked in anticipation of Jack and Gillian’s visit along with a carafe of orange juice.

“Coffee, Dave?”

“No, thanks. I had several cups this morning already.”

“I’m surprised you aren’t having breakfast with your aunt and cousin.” I served myself.

Dave pushed his eggs around his plate. “I needed to get out of there. Everyone was arguing. Loudly.”

I exchanged a look with Gillian. Dave was not himself this morning. Jack perked up after eating.

“At least you have a trust fund, so things can’t be too bad. My sister doesn’t have a safety net with her money issues.”

Dave turned to me. “I didn’t know you had financial problems. Is your business doing okay?”

“It is, but we split the profits three ways, and we’re just getting started. Things are a bit thin. We don’t have many jobs lined up. You see my dilemma. I really need the income from getting Samantha’s web site up and running.”

“I might have a solution to your monetary dilemma and my own.” Dave stopped pushing his eggs around and took a bite.

I paused with my muffin halfway to my lips. “You have monetary problems? What happened to your family trust?”

Dave looked away. “This idea I have…” He looked straight at me, his enthusiasm building. “It would involve you. Your house. I’d cut you in. It’s a tour.” He gestured with his hands. “You know about the legends round here. You’ve read Mina’s books, and there are legends. We’d base the tour on them. We could end with your house and the treasure.”

“Treasure?” I dropped what was left of my muffin.

“Maybe we could even dig it up ourselves.”

“Dig?” I echoed.

“That would solve all our problems!”

I thought of the arguments that took place over in his cottage and wondered again what they’d been about. I snapped my fingers in front of his face. “Dave!”

He blinked. “What?”

“No, Dave. No tour of my house.” I enunciated each word. “Especially no digging.”

“But it would work.” The tension of his energy raised the temperature in the room. “Doris could appear dressed like a flapper. Another legend is about the bootleggers—”

My heart beat fast as my stomach clenched. “Stop, Dave. No. No tour of my house.”

He stared at me. “But why? It would solve both our problems.”

“And create many more. I didn’t move here to be an exhibit in a zoo.” I pushed my plate away. Gillian started to rise as if to clear, but Jack pulled her back down and the two sat silently.

“But, Cass, I really need this. It’s a great idea!” My usually laid-back surfer dude neighbor was so tense the veins in his neck stood out.

Gillian touched his arm. “Dave, please tell us what’s going on. Maybe we can help.”

He shook her hand off and turned back to me. “After all I’ve done for you? You can’t do this one little thing for me? What harm would it do?”

I had never seen him so upset before. I would have bet that he was incapable of anger, yet here he was red in the face. Maybe even out of control. “Dave, what is it? What happened?”

“Never mind!” He stormed out the back door, letting it bang in the frame behind him.

I turned to Jack and Gillian, speechless.

Jack was the first to get his voice. “What was that about?”

Gillian shook her head. “Something must be terribly wrong. That is so unlike him.”

I looked down at Dave’s plate. “Very wrong indeed. I’ve never seen him abandon food before.”

Jack snorted.

“This isn’t funny.” I wiped my mouth. “He’s the beneficiary of a family trust. He’s never needed money before. He’s on good terms with the trust administrator, his aunt. We met her last night.”

“Unless they all lied to us.” Jack leaned forward. “Sis, you haven’t lived here long enough to know what he needs or what he’s like when he’s stressed.”

That was true enough. What did I really know about my neighbors? They knew more about me than I did about them because I was a blabbermouth and the newbie in the neighborhood. Or maybe I was so needy that I’d made assumptions about them because I wanted friends, people I could rely on, after my traumatic divorce from Phil. I snapped back to the present in time to see Gillian glower at Jack.

She turned to me. “You aren’t at fault. Something weird is going on with Dave. We’ll talk to him later. For now we’ll help you get ready for Halloween, won’t we, Jack?”

Jack stood up straight. “Yes, absolutely.”

I smiled. I loved them so much. When he wasn’t being an adolescent, Jack was my rock. “Thanks, guys. Since everyone in Las Lunas calls my place the haunted house, I thought I’d live up to it this Halloween, not with a legends tour, but with some old-fashioned fun.”

Doris, my resident ghost, materialized next to the table and bent over the muffins, acting out smelling them even though we all knew she had no sense of smell.

“In the spirit of the season—pun intended—I also thought Thor and I could have some fun scaring young children this Halloween if you don’t mind. He is a black cat, after all, and he has a great set of pipes for long scary howls in the dark. You might get some trick-or-treaters this year now that this house is inhabited…” She paused for effect. “By the living. You’ll probably get kids daring each other to approach the scary haunted house.” She cackled. “It could be a whole boatload of fun!”

“As long as you don’t hurt my cat.”

Doris pouted. “I care about Thor, too.” In the space between her words, she changed her clothing, materializing a cat suit. “He’s my transportation.”

As if on cue, Thor sauntered in from the living room and rubbed against her immaterial legs, purring. He looked up at her with adoring amber eyes.

“Did they celebrate Halloween back in the olden days when you were a flapper?” Jack finished loading the dishwasher and wiped his hands on the red kitchen towel.

Doris lifted her chin. “The Twenties aren’t the ‘olden days’, and of course we celebrated Halloween with grand costume parties.” In rapid succession Doris’ clothes changed through a series of ornate costumes from a golden-earringed gypsy to Marie Antoinette.

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Impressive.”

“As long as you don’t wander away with Thor while you’re possessing him.”

Doris pouted and vanished.

“You guys can help me get the stuff I bought at the Halloween store out of the car.” I stared at the mystery box Jack and Gillian brought with them from Berkeley and left on the coffee table yesterday. “What else have you got in there?”

Gillian tucked a strand of short, blonde hair behind her ear and opened the box. “We brought our costumes, and we have a bunch of these from previous years.” She held up several pumpkin carving kits. “For some reason, we always think we’ll turn into pumpkin artists, but it never happens. This year you’ll keep us on the straight and narrow. We’ve also been gathering some things for you.” She dug around in the container. “The days are getting shorter and chillier, so…” Gillian pulled a gray-green sweater with dolman sleeves out of the box. “Please get rid of that ratty old Kelly green one.”

I took it from her and held it up, feeling the soft wool. “This is gorgeous. I love it. Did you knit it?”

“I wish. So we can get rid of the old one?” Gillian leaned forward.

I hesitated.

“If you don’t like the new one…”

I closed my eyes for a moment. “Okay. But that old sweater and I have gone through a lot together.”

“It shows. Your turn. What’ve you got in your car?”

“Follow me.” I led the way to my car and opened the trunk.

“Looks like you bought out the Halloween store.”

“Jack, can you unload?” I handed Gillian a couple of bags from the back seat. “I want the house to look creepy. I’ve got cobwebs, skeletons, headstones for the beach, spiders, and a couple of cauldrons. I also bought a black candelabra with black metal bats and some orange votive candles.” I hefted a box containing a glass punch bowl and ladle. “Can you get the door? This thing’s heavy.”

Gillian set the bags inside and held the door open. “It’ll take us the rest of the day to strew all this stuff around and get the pumpkins carved.”

“Let’s hope there isn’t a lot of wind overnight. These tombstones aren’t very heavy.” Jack had two in his arms.

“Stash those on the porch along with the cauldrons. They’re for outside. I think we can throw stones in the cauldrons to weight them. We can add the dry ice later. There are a couple of small spotlights in one of the bags. You can help me decide where to aim them. I’ll have to think about how to keep the headstones from blowing away.”

“The headstones should have stakes to keep them in place. Oh, cool!” Jack held up the zombie arm stakes that I hadn’t been able to resist buying.

“I thought you’d like those.” Sometimes he was such an overgrown kid.

Gillian carried a few more tombstones up to the porch and went on inside. Jack and I finished getting everything up on the porch or in the house.

Jack plopped down on the couch, but I dumped a pile next to him. He groaned but sat up and peeled off price tags and wrappings.

“I’d like to try a couple of tombstones to see if they have stakes and how they work.”

“Be my guest. I’ll look for stones for the cauldrons. I hope it doesn’t storm.” I gazed out the window.

“None is predicted.”

“I know. I’m a worrier.”

Jack laughed. “You so aren’t.” He picked up one of the boxes and read the back. “When’s high tide? We have to be careful where we place this stuff.”

As I searched for rocks for the cauldrons, I peered over at Dave’s house and wondered how he was doing.

We took a break around one, went into town to have lunch at Soupçon and picked up a few more things. Jack desperately wanted to buy a projector that threw a movie of a ghost up on a screen in front of a window, but I pointed out that we had a real live ghost who worked for free.

We finished as a ruddy sunset bloomed on the horizon and checked out our handiwork. Jack and Gillian erected a cluster of three tombstones near the front beach corner of the house. I’d half-filled the largest cauldron by the foot of the stairs. The purple bat lights and orange pumpkin lights cast spooky shadows over the front porch and lawn.

“Very cool.” I dusted my hands off. “We’re nearly set for Halloween tomorrow.”

Jack nodded. “Now we only need to finish the jack-o-lanterns and place the spotlights.”

As we went back inside, I cast a last glance toward Dave’s.