Page 4 of Halloween in Sleepy Hollow
We all fall silent as we dodge a chattering group of teenagers, resuming the conversation once we’re past them. “Nothing wrong with being careful,” I reply. “Although—” I give Shea a teasing smile. “Oliver might be alittleoverprotective.”
Shea laughs. “A little?”
“Well, I can understand,” Thea says. “With his background, especially. Being in the CIA, and now a cop…”
Shea’s expression sobers. “Yeah. I get it, too. That’s why I don’t give him a hard time about it. Most of the time, at least.”
Once we pass the line of food trucks parked all along Main Street, the crowd begins to thin. The lively sounds—musicians and giggling teenagers and children shrieking with excitement—fade. The street grows darker, with many of the businesses shuttered for the night.
By the time we reach Irving Street, the narrow road that leads to the Sleepy Hollow Public Library, the noise from the festival is little more than a low buzz behind us. Our footsteps are loud on the concrete. The fall breeze feels crisper. Colder. Goosebumps erupt across my skin, despite the thermal layers I’m wearing beneath my costume.
As we turn onto Irving Street, Shea says quietly, “There’s just something about Halloween night, don’t you think? Even as an adult, it still gets to me sometimes.”
“Yeah.” Icy fingertips tickle the back of my neck. “I know what you mean. I stayed up late watching a movie the other night. It was about the monster under the bed. And even though I knew it wasn’t real, I couldn’t helppeeking under the bed with a flashlight before I went to sleep. I felt silly doing it, but…”
Thea tightens her arm around mine. “It’s not silly. Just because we’re grown up doesn’t mean we can’t get scared sometimes.”
We all fall silent after that.
If Thea and Shea are anything like myself, they’re probably thinking about the reasons whythey might get scared. Not from movies or TV shows, but from the horrors of real life. Horrors we all fortunately escaped from, but won’t likely forget.
As the library comes into sight, Shea says brightly, “Anyway. Never mind about monsters under the bed and things that creep in the night. Let’s talk about what we’re going to buy at Greta’s Goodies. I’m thinking maybe some of those salted caramel blondies for Oliver and some snickerdoodles for me.”
“Mmm.” My stomach rumbles in eager anticipation. “I could go for some of those pumpkin pie macarons. I tried one the other day and it was incredible.”
“I’m sad Laila isn’t trick or treating this year,” Thea adds mournfully. “Partly because it was fun going with her. And partly”—she smirks—“because Ben and I would eat some of the candy, too.”
Instead of using the front entrance to the library, Thea leads us around the to the back. “It’s easier to disarm the alarm at the back entrance,” she explains. “With the double doors at the front, sometimes they don’t close quite right and it triggers a call to the police.”
“Well, we don’t want that,” I reply. As we walk down the alley that leads the parking lot around back, I cast a quick glance at the darkened buildings around us. Acrossthe way is a laundromat, flanked on one side by a law office and the other, the newly constructed bank. Opposite the library, on the other side of the alley, is the old Sleepy Hollow Bank, which has stood empty for the last year since they changed locations.
Shea looks at abandoned bank and asks, “Are they ever going to do something with the building? It seems a pity to leave it empty like that. Especially when it has so many cool features inside. Those old vaults, and the stained glass windows…”
Thea reaches into her purse to retrieve her keys. I don’t miss how she positions them between her fingers so a key is pointing out. Or the little alert whistle that dangles from the chain; almost an identical match to the one I carry. “Actually, they’re turning it into a restaurant. It’s going to be called The Vault. I’m not sure what the theme will be yet.”
I study the old bank more closely. “I could see that. Eating in one of the old vaults would be pretty cool. Maybe they could put some fake gold bars around.”
“Or some stacks of fake money,” Shea adds. “They could give the menu items money themed names. Like…” She pauses to think. “The Billion Dollar Bolognese.”
“The Billion Dollar Bolognese?” I bump Shea with my arm. “I don’t know?—”
A sharp cry splits the night.
It’s high pitched. Feminine.
Frightened.
My heart stutters.
Then the night goes silent again, save for the harsh sounds of our breaths.
Thea freezes mid-step, jerking Shea and me back along with her. “What was that?”
Shea’s voice wobbles a little. “Kids maybe. Teenagers. Trying to scare each other, you know?”
I grab hold of Shea’s explanation and cling to it. “I’m sure that’s it. I mean, it’s Halloween after all. Of course people are going to be screaming.”
Thea releases a shaky sigh. “Right. Of course.” A beat, and then more uneasily, “But… it didn’t sound like it came from Main Street. It sounded like it came from… closer.”
