Page 51 of Real Fake Hauntings

I told Dru as much as a ping on the laptop announced we’d gotten a potion delivery request.

“I better take this,” I said.

And while I was out, I’d start asking some questions.

SIXTEEN

With Bee-Bee still at Ian’s, I called a ride share to drop the glamour potions for the online order. The demon who’d requested them lived close to Balton Square, which was a great opportunity since Crane’s business was nearby.

Whether him being at the scene of the pentagram was an accident or not, it gave me a great excuse to drop by his office. In fact, it would be very odd if I didn’t, I told myself, leaving another voice message to nail down the fact I was theoretically very much unaware Crane was missing if anyone came asking.

Unfortunately, it being Saturday, I found the office closed for real. The blinds were drawn down behind the door, and the handle rattled ineffectively when I tried to push it open.

The real estate business occupying the first floor of the old converted building was, however, open on the weekend.

“Hello,” I greeted the man sitting behind the reception desk. “I’m looking for Desmond Crane. I saw his office is closed today. Do you know where I can find him?”

The man scratched his chin with his phone. “Yeah, they usually close for a couple of days for Halloween.”

To give Desmond time to catch up to his evil dark web market deeds, no doubt. “I see. When will they open again, do you know? Monday?”

“I guess, yeah.”

I made sure to appear properly crestfallen. “That’s a bummer. I need to talk to him about something urgent that came up, and nobody’s answering the phone. Oh! What about his assistant? Do you know her number?”

The man shook his head, more baffled than wary about the random woman asking for personal information, which, shame on whoever had raised him. He thought about it for a few seconds, then smiled. “I know where you can find her, though.”

“Really? That’d help so much.”

“Sure.” He nodded, immensely proud of himself. If he gave me her home address, I was bringing Officer Brooks here to put the fear of everything holy in this man. “She loves doing the zombie walk over at Fieldman Park. I bet you she’s over there right now.”

Good news—this man got to live another day. “Great, thank you.”

The John B. Fieldman Park was the biggest park in Old Olmeda. Named after a man who was erroneously hanged for a series of deadly robberies, it made perfect sense to set a Halloween zombie walk there likely filled with kids of all ages. What’s more family fun than parading around the trees where they used to hang convicts, I ask of you?

It was a bit of a walk among the growing morning crowd, but it allowed me to send Ian a few texts updating him on my theories.

As usual, his response was a thumbs up.

When I told him I was going to the zombie walk to find Crane’s assistant, he sent me a green puking emoji and a skull.

When I told him he sucked, he sent a sparkling heart.

And when I asked if he’d like to join me, he sent me a thumbs down and a dog face.

Grinning like an idiot, I made it to the park. I didn’t have to work hard to find the zombie walk—a sizable crowd of families had already gathered around the main entrance. They had set up a few big tents with makeup and children’s games stations on the clearing before the wide dirt path that cut around the trees and fenced grass. Kids were screaming and running everywhere, dressed up in all kinds of costumes.

“Fifteen minutes to the walk,” someone announced through a bullhorn.

Perfect timing.

I searched the crowd and finally spotted April, Crane’s assistant, inside a growing group of zombies and other dressed-up people gathering by what was clearly the start of the walk.

“Ten minutes!”

There was no way I could talk to her before the walk started.

Darting under one of the tents, I sat on a tiny free stool in the makeup station.

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