We opened the doors again at six, and a few people trickled in for cider and goodies. Then came the families with very little ones—wee bunnies and princesses, a ladybug with wildly waving antennae, a frog and a fairy, and a lion growling Arrrrrrr at anyone who came near. Wide-eyed, they accepted candy from the jolly jester behind the register and wandered around the bakery snagging more goodies. Most paused at the Halloween tree, blinking up at the fairy lights and occasionally sucking a thumb.
“Oh, my Lord. Will you just look at this place?” a familiar voice drawled behind me. “Y’all have done a wonderful job, Katie!”
I turned to find Margie had arrived. “Glad you could make it! Oh, my, you two are adorable.” I knelt in front of the JJs. They were dressed as Raggedy Ann and Andy. Red yarn wigs, a pinafore for Julia, and a sailor suit for Jonathan.
“Thank you,” they said in unison. “Where’s the candy?” Julia asked, and Jonathan pointed. Off they scampered to see Ben, who greeted them each with a pat on the head.
“Did you make those costumes?” I asked Margie, whose eyes followed them with watchful affection.
“Oh, sure. I think this is the last year they’ll let me pick their costumes, though. Boy, they grow up fast.”
“At least you can dictate to this little bumblebee for a few more Halloweens,” I said, leaning over and making funny faces at Bart in the baby pack on Margie’s back. His eyes grew large, and he started to cry.
“Oh, Barty,” I said.
“He probably doesn’t recognize you,” Jaida said in passing.
My hands flew to my face. Of course. Poor kid, having a zombie make faces at him.
Margie bounced on the balls of her feet a few times, which distracted him. In seconds he was back to his usual happy self. She laughed. “You look great. Really. Shame about that dress, though.”
I looked down and shrugged.
Soon the age of the kids increased, bringing in a baseball player and a commando, Catwoman and a witch. This was the group who dressed as characters from popular movies. They also ate a lot more.
About eight thirty, Detectives Taite and Quinn pushed through the door. Margie had already left, and more costumed adults had joined the crowd. “Monster Mash” boomed from the stereo, and the atmosphere was thick with the dry-ice fog that had been drifting out of Lucy’s cauldron all evening.
Lucy hurried to greet the detectives at the door. “Welcome to the Honeybee Halloween Extravaganza.”
“Ms. Eagel,” Quinn greeted her. “Just thought we’d stop by and see how it’s going.” He folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall by the window.
I carried a plate of cookies over to them. “It’s going well. Detective Taite, this is my aunt, Lucy Eagel. That’s my uncle Ben over there.”
“Ma’am,” Taite said, inclining his head toward Lucy.
A quick glance at me, then my aunt said, “Pleased to know you. May I pour you some cider?”
“No, thank you,” Taite said. “We’re just checking in. Thought you might like to know that Greer Eastmore had a coronary. Just like your boyfriend thought.” He met my eyes as he spoke, searching my face.
Lucy blinked.
Taite’s expression held more puzzlement than threat. Had he found my number on Greer’s cell phone?
I glanced around to make sure none of our customers had heard. “Thank you for letting me know. He seemed a bit young to die that way.”
Taite said, “He was.” His gaze flicked around the room. “Doesn’t Nel Sandstrom work here?”
“Not anymore.” My words were clipped.
An awkward silence descended. Finally Taite said, “We’ll be on our way, then. Have a good night.” He turned to go. Quinn, who had been watching his partner with curiosity, pushed away from the wall and raised his eyebrows at me.
The door flew open and Declan, Scott, Randy, and two other firefighters in full gear came in, carrying their helmets. Scott and Randy nodded to me as they passed by on their way to the register. “We’re here, Ben. As promised.”
My uncle laughed. “And in full costume, I see.”
“Hey, we can’t all be as original as that.” Randy pointed to Ben’s hat. “But at least we’re here to help hand out candy, whatever.”
Declan met my eyes and smiled, then gave a little nod toward the detectives Lucy and I were talking to. I shrugged.
Taite’s head tipped to the side as he looked around the room. “You seem to have plenty of help.”
“Can’t ever have too much,” I said, all bright and smiling.
His eyes narrowed at me. “Detective Quinn, what do you say we try some of that cider on offer?”
Quinn shrugged, but the curiosity was back on his face. “Fine by me.”
Lucy shot me a look of alarm, and I glanced down at my watch as she poured out hot cider for the detectives. We had an hour to get to Drayton Hills, and Mimsey had said it was on the very edge of town, but if we started changing out of our costumes now, Franklin Taite would know something was up.
* * *
It was ten minutes after nine when Taite and Quinn finally left. Jaida and Lucy quickly gathered supplies in the kitchen while I ran into the office to grab my tote. Mungo put his paws on the arm of the chair, ready to go.
“I’m sorry, little one. I need you to stay here.”
He glared at me.
“All the ladies are coming, and those druids will be there, too. I’ll be fine.”
He growled in the back of his throat.
I put the bag down and lifted him into my arms. “I want you to keep an eye on things here.” I nuzzled his head. “I know what you truly are, a wolf in terrier clothing. On Samhain, all sorts of things can happen. I need you to protect Ben and Declan and the others.”
When I put him back on the chair, he sighed and seemed to nod.
The spellbook club waited for me outside. Lucy pulled the Thunderbird up to the curb, and, still fully costumed, we piled in. With six of us, it was a tight fit. I wedged myself, gown and all, into the backseat, and off we went. Every time we turned a corner, Bianca’s Leia wig bumped my head, and I couldn’t see over Mimsey’s hat o’ fruit. At least it was warm enough to have the top down, so I could see the sidewalks of Savannah.
It was the middle of the week, so many locals had already headed home, but the out-of-towners were still going strong. Hearses carried paying passengers on the ghost tours all over the historic district, and I could hear the guides’ voices blaring through speakers clear down by the river. Heinrich was right: The tourists would be all over most of the cemeteries in town, especially Bonaventure, since it was featured in that wildly popular book set in Savannah.
Lucy drove quickly, following Mimsey’s directions, and soon we reached the edge of town. She turned left onto a gravel road. After about half a mile, she pulled over to the side and turned off the Thunderbird’s engine. I could hear it ticking in the cooling night and Bianca breathing beside me. A night bird called from the top of a tree.
I craned my neck but couldn’t see what lay ahead. “Mimsey,” I hissed, “can you take that contraption off your head?”
She opened the passenger door and got out. I crawled forward from the backseat, hauling my heavy skirt out. At least I had on sneakers. Mimsey removed her headdress and shook out her white pageboy.
“Much better,” she proclaimed in a low voice.
Something flew by. Cookie squeaked. “What was that?”
I whispered, “A bat, I think.”
She giggled nervously. I looked around at the others now standing by the car. Bianca looked like one very worried Princess Leia. Jaida’s expression was serious and determined as she took off the three-cornered hat and tossed it on the front seat. Lucy, however, appeared almost placid.
Ahead of us, a tall spiked gate blocked the road. It guarded a fenced-in area, heavily wooded and overgrown. Even in the bright light of the waning gibbous moon I couldn’t make out where the iron fencing ended.
The sound of tires on gravel made us turn our heads. A black Cadillac Escalade crunched slowly down the road, then pulled in behind the Thunderbird. Victor Powers got out from behind the wheel. He wore dark slacks and a zippered Windbreaker. Steve’s father stepped to the ground from the passenger seat, also clad in dark clothing. The rear doors opened to reveal Andersen Lane and Brandon Sikes.
Andersen shut the car door behind him and approached, peering at me through his plastic-framed glasses and tugging at the collar of his pin-striped oxford-cloth shirt. “I knew I was right to enlist your help.” He glanced around at the others. “I never would have suspected our erstwhile member’s progeny.”
“I just hope we can stop her.”
Victor Powers held out his hand. “We’ve never actually met, though I believe I did see you at my fund-raiser?”
After a second’s hesitation, I shook his hand. No comment on the fund-raiser.
Brandon’s eyes lit up when he saw Cookie’s Cleopatra costume. He kissed her on the cheek. “You look gorgeous.”
“So do you,” she said.
He did, actually, in a dark T-shirt and jeans, but everyone except the lovebirds exchanged disapproving looks.
As Heinrich’s gaze continued to take in the rest of the spellbook club, his disapproval deepened. “What on earth are you people wearing?”
I held up my palms. “We were at a party at the Honeybee. We had to dress up, and then there wasn’t time enough to change our clothes.”
He sniffed. “Well, you look ridiculous.”
Mimsey took a step forward. “And you look pompous. The Samhain spirits couldn’t care less what we look like, Heinrich. We have a job to do. Now let’s go do it.”
The Dragohs exchanged looks in the moonlight and turned as one to face the iron gate that blocked the road into the cemetery. They moved toward it, and the spellbook club followed. Two live oaks loomed on either side of the entrance, long shreds of moss hanging from the branches like clumps of trailing hair. Jaida fumbled a flashlight out of her knapsack and shone it on the lock. Rust encrusted the old-fashioned keyhole. Victor shook the gate, and the decayed metal sifted to the ground like so much red dust.
“It’s not locked,” Jaida said, and pushed against it. A brief shriek of metal on metal tore through the night, and the sky above filled with a rush of flapping wings. Victor and Brandon helped push the gate open a few more feet. Jaida shone the light through the opening to reveal a mass of overgrown vines.
“Is there another way in?” I asked. “Because I don’t think Nel came this way.”
“The road circles the fence,” Heinrich said. “There’s another gate on the opposite side.”
Andersen harrumphed. “I hope this hasn’t turned into a snipe hunt.”
No one responded, but I felt the same way.
Tires sounded on the road behind us again. My heart leaped in my chest as I watched the headlights barreling toward us. The vehicle suddenly swerved in behind the Cadillac. The driver cut the engine and lights, and then the sound of the door opening and closing reached our ears. I squinted at the approaching figure, recognizing his walk before I could make out his face.
Steve had joined the fray.
He stopped five feet away from where we’d gathered at the gate. The moonlight glinted off his hair. “Father.”
Heinrich nodded at his son in silence.
Steve looked at my face, then down at the dress, and again met my eyes. Something passed between us. I remembered months before when we’d linked together to heal a wounded man. The power we’d shared then had convinced me once and for all that I was a witch—and had saved the man’s life. Now it made me feel better that he’d come to help us. To help me. We worked well together magically.
Perhaps that was what he’d been referring to when he’d talked about our destiny. Perhaps we’d be awfully good together in other ways, too. Perhaps I should rethink our relationship. Give it a try. I thought of Declan, back at the Honeybee. My good friend. But even if he was willing to roll with my being a witch, there could never be that bond of magic between us.
Steve walked right past me and stopped by his father’s side.
“Steve?” I tried to keep the hurt out of my voice.
He shook his head. “This is my place.” No apology, no explanation. Apparently, he’d rethought a few things himself.
I took a deep breath. Now was not the time to take umbrage. Now was the time to focus. “Since we don’t have a counter for the actual Spell of Necretius, we have to find Nel before midnight and bind her so she can’t summon Zesh in the first place,” I said.
“Did you bring the poppet?” Heinrich asked.
I nodded. “Cookie?”
She looked at Jaida, who extracted a small figure from the knapsack. It was about seven inches long and off-white. It was the stick figure of rag dolls—no clothes, no features, no anatomy other than torso, head, arms, and legs. It did, however, have a gray braid stitched to the scalp. Looking closer, I realized the whole thing was made of fiber rather than cloth.
“Where…?”
“It’s lightly felted wool,” Cookie said. “Annette already had the form and helped me…personalize it this afternoon. She thinks it’s for a Halloween gag.”
“Nice,” I said.
“How shall we do this?” Mimsey asked. “Y’all bind her while we protect you?”
The Dragohs looked at each other and appeared to reach a silent agreement. Victor nodded. “A circle within a circle.”
“All right.” Jaida patted the bag of magical goodies she carried. “We’re loaded for bear.”
“I hope you’re ready for considerably more than that,” Steve said, looking at me again. “Nel is willing to kill.”
“Well, now, I don’t know about that,” Heinrich said. “It’s unlikely she could even complete the summoning.”
“No, Father. Her attack on Katie was viciously strong. Don’t make the mistake of discounting her because she’s female.”
Heinrich began to bristle as the other men looked to him. Of course: The Dragohs were not a democracy. They had a leader, and it was Steve’s father. How had I not realized that before?
Would that role pass to Steve as well?
Then Heinrich looked at his son and nodded. “Understood.” He inclined his head toward me.
Slowly, I returned the gesture. “Where would Nel choose to cast the summoning spell?”
“I would choose the northern part of the cemetery,” Heinrich said. The other men murmured agreement.
Mimsey’s head bobbed. “Of course. Uriel’s side, near the edge where the veil will thin at midnight and the souls can cross.”