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I’m going to kill you.
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Outside, Journi found Hayley sitting on the porch steps, watching Tilda play with the cat in the front yard.
“Stay close to the house,” Hayley was saying. “Don’t make me put a leash on you.”
Tilda giggled and rolled in the grass, mimicking the cat who was on its back, pawing at a rosebush.
Journi stopped beside Hayley, gazing out at the sun-dappled street, and said, “We need to talk.”
Hayley looked up, saw Journi’s expression, and sagged. “Olivia didn’t listen to you, did she?”
Journi tucked her helmet under her arm and took in the picturesque neighborhood. It was hard to believe something sinister lurked beneath its charm. Her gaze landed on the house next door where an old man wearing a jacquard sweater and neatly pressed khaki pants was tending to his immaculately trimmed shrubs. “No, she didn’t.”
Hayley shook her head, anger coloring her pretty face. “How can she ignore this?”
Journi shrugged. “It’s easier to write me off as a con than to face the facts.” That and Mrs. Burke was a condescending d-bag.
Hayley’s angry gaze followed Tilda as she ran across the yard, trailing a cat wand behind her. “What did you see?”
Thinking it best to spare her the gory details, Journi said, “Let’s just say I have reason to believe Tilda and the baby are in danger.”
Hayley nodded grimly. “And you don’t think it’s a fluke?” she asked, sounding both hopeful and defeated. “Some kind of Halloween mojo or something?”
If it had been only one vision, maybe. And even that was doubtful. But two? “No,” Journi said. “I think someone or something is out to hurt these kids.”
Tears filled Hayley’s eyes, and she looked away. “Why? Who would do such a thing?”
“That’s what I want to find out.”
Dragging her thumbs beneath her eyes as if she didn’t want Tilda to see her tears, Hayley asked, “How can I help?”
“Let me talk to my family, and we’ll go from there. In the meantime, keep a close eye on Tilda.” Journi opened her satchel and took out a Say It Ain’t So business card, passing it to Hayley. “If something doesn’t feel right, call me.”
“I will,” Hayley accepted the card. “Do you have a pen?”
Digging through her bag, Journi pulled one out and handed it to her. Hayley took it and grabbed Journi’s hand, scrawling something on her palm. “Here’s my number too,” Hayley said. “If I can do anything.”
Journi nodded and took the pen back. “I’ll let you know.”
Across the way, the old man called, “Miss? Your cat is soiling in my hedges again. Would you mind?”
The white cat, which was half in and half out of the shrub, was furiously covering its mess as if it was as offended by the smell as the neighbor was.
Hayley glanced over and sighed. “I’ll be right there, Mr. Jenkins.”
He waved and went back to his trimming.
Standing, Hayley produced a poop-retrieval bag. “I don’t get paid enough for this.”
Journi cringed. Maybe there were worse things than being forced to suffer through beggar’s night at the shelter. “I’ll be in touch.”
Hayley nodded, then hurried over to the scene of the crime, offering profuse apologies to Mr. Jenkins, who waved them off with a patient smile.
Journi went to her scooter and strapped on her helmet. As she climbed on, she glanced up at the Burke house one last time. It appeared so benign. So ordinary. Upscale but ordinary. And maybe it was. Whatever evil was haunting the Burkes could be attached solely to the children it seemed to be targeting and not the dwelling. Either way, Journi had the feeling she needed to get to the bottom of it soon, or Bexley was going to be two kids short.
By the time she zipped across town to Say It Ain’t So to return a few calls and grab the open bag of miniature chocolate bars she kept in her desk drawer, it was time to head to the Hissing Booth. As she locked up her office, the sun was beginning to set, and the street was a scene straight out of the Halloween Design Handbook. Dead leaves skittered across the sidewalk, and a sorrowful breeze rustled branches. The businesses adjacent to hers had decorated their storefronts with jack-o’-lanterns and fake cobwebs. Their windows glowed with orange string lights, and chilling tunes drifted out of Paige’s Books & Gifts, who had temporarily changed their sign to Paige’s Spooks & Gifts. The bookstore’s owner, Paige Dennowits, was sweeping off her stoop, her plump cheeks pink from the brisk air. She looked up at the sound of Journi’s jangling keys.
“Happy Halloween, neighbor,” Paige called, holding up a cheery hand. She’d painted her nose black and had drawn on whiskers. Two black cat ears perched atop her unruly auburn curls.
Journi groaned inwardly. She was surrounded by cats everywhere she went. Still, she smiled. Paige was a likable girl. Sweet and gullible as a puppy but likable. “Happy Halloween.”
Paige seemed to notice Journi was leaving and frowned. “You’re not passing out treats at Say It Ain’t So?”
Journi noticed the enormous bowl of candy sitting on the table Paige had erected in front of the bookstore. The woman clearly intended to singlehandedly induce a citywide diabetes epidemic. “No,” Journi said. “I’m helping Aunt Frieda at the shelter.”
Paige beamed as if her faith in Journi had been restored. “How fun!” she exclaimed, sounding as if she truly thought it would be. “I’m hoping I get a herd of kids. It’s only me and the Beanery passing out this year.”
Glancing across the street at the coffee shop, Journi could see that its doors were open and Joe, the Beanery’s owner, was sitting in front of the shop beside one of his baristas. They looked cozy in sweaters and scarves, chatting over thermoses as they waited for the oncoming horde. In addition to their own pile of candy, they’d set up an espresso station, presumably for the trick or treaters’ frazzled parents. Journi gazed longingly at the espresso but knew if she didn’t get to the Hissing Booth on time, Frieda would have her head.
“I’m surprised Nell isn’t handing out cupcakes,” Journi said, gesturing toward Sweet Nellie Cakes, the bakery located next to the bookstore. The kindly woman who ran the place was known for the pumpkin cupcakes with molasses icing she gave to trick or treaters every Halloween. Even Journi braved the ankle-biters to get one.
“I know, right?” Paige looked crestfallen. “She’s down with the flu. Poor thing. Her staff all have kids of their own to take.”
“Bummer,” Journi said, watching as a ghost in Civil War garb emerged from the bookstore, his tattered uniform looking somehow dapper despite the musket-ball holes marring the chest. He eyed the street as if surveying a battlefield of encroaching enemies. Behind him, a second ghost appeared. This one female. A young girl, her ethereal white nightgown trailing behind her in an eddy of bluish nethersmoke. Her long hair floated about her head like undulating snakes, and her eyes were ringed with shadowed hollows. Journi arched an eyebrow at Paige. “New employees?”
Paige laughed, leaning on her broom and eying the specters as they haunted the sidewalk in front of her store. “I hired them for tonight. Wanted to add some authentic décor.”
The soldier looked down his nose at Paige as if he’d taken offense to being reduced to mere décor, then crossed his arms in a huff, glaring out at the street.
Journi grinned. She was going to ask what, exactly, you paid a ghostly hired hand but thought better of it. She was already running late, and Paige could be long-winded. Instead, Journi put on her helmet and called, “Have fun tonight.”
“You too,” Paige called back, waving before returning to her preparations.
Gearing up for a night of misery, Journi jogged across the sidewalk to her scooter, stashing the bag of chocolates in her satchel. Before she could climb on, though, her phone vibrated. She grabbed it and answered, “Say It Ain’t So.”
The voice on the other end of the line sparked with anger. “Bitch, I’m going to kill you.”
