Page 53 of All You Want
“That went well,” Viola says to me, tipping her witch’s hat. “Mind if I stick around for the ghost-hunting tour?”
“You’re absolutely welcome to,” I reply. “Once the kids are gone, will you stay and mingle with the bar crawl ghouls?”
“I wouldn’t miss it.” She cackles in character. Her face is painted green, and she sports a large mole. “I know I’ve been critical of the historical aspects of the bordello, but good old Halloween fun doesn’t have to be historically accurate.”
“Thanks.” I pat her shoulder. “I appreciate that.”
“However.” She waggles a thin finger at me. “There are questions about what this property is built on. I’m still digging in the county records and looking through old letters and deeds. I’m not sure Madam Goldilocks was a real person.”
“Why does it matter? As long as everyone’s entertained. Listen, I have to go back inside for the cocktail party. Thanks for doing the story hour.”
“Hey, Tami,” Corny says, coming toward us. He’s sucking on a swirly lollipop and popping candy corn like they’re nitroglycerin pills. “Everyone’s having a great time.”
“The kids sure did,” Viola says, picking up her crooked broomstick. She waves at me and cackles, pretending to ride off on her broom like it’s a stick pony.
“Did we have any problems? Incidents?” I ask Corny, who’s taken it upon himself to be the leader of the Vice Squad.
“Other than the kid who threw up after stuffing his mouth full of black licorice.” He shakes his head and chuckles. “A few torn costumes and a lost child who was found quickly. I’d say the Graveyard Party was a huge success. Hope it stays that way once the bar crowd shows up.”
“Did you check on all the deputies? Are they keeping busy?”
“Dillon and Al are patrolling the perimeter. Randy and Chad are inside. I haven’t seen Justin, but we probably don’t need him at this stage.”
“Maybe he went back to the town square.”
“They’ll need him over there,” Corny says. “I heard Todd is at the town square by himself. He could use some help.”
I don’t contradict him, because that’s what Todd wants everyone to believe. He’s hidden behind a disguise and incognito as far as the town’s concerned, although I’m sure his family knows he’s the huge and furry Sasquatch Sheriff hovering around the premises.
“Where’s Shane?” I ask, wondering why I haven’t seen his smirky face around. I’m sure not even a mask could hide his smarmy attitude.
“He’s at the station holding the fort. Have to have someone responding to calls,” Corny replies. “Guess you better get in there now that the hotel guests are starting to arrive.”
I thank him for the update and turn toward the check-in desk.
“Tami!” My sorority sister, Bonnie, and her fiancé, Clifton, stand next to their luggage. “This is awesome. So spooky, but tastefully done. I can’t wait for the ghost hunt.”
Bonnie is resplendent as a fairy princess. Jewels are embedded in her silvery gown, and a sparkling tiara crowns her golden-blond hair.
“So glad you could make it.” I hug her, bumping into her pregnant belly before shaking hands with Clifton.
His palm is sweaty and clammy, and he gives me the creeps, wearing a top hat and tails, with his face covered by a gaping ghoul mask.
“Let me show you to your room, the Baja Angel Studio.” I signal to an employee to pick up their suitcases. As soon as I open the basement door, I realize my mistake.
“We have to walk down those steps?” Bonnie asks, looking horrified.
“I, uh, well, thought…” There’s no way I can put her in the basement at this rate—not with her being so wobbly.
“Why not?” Clifton takes Bonnie’s elbow and propels her forward. “I’m betting there’s a ghost down there. Maybe a body in the coal bin. Didn’t you say you wanted to be terrified out of your mind?”
Bonnie nods stiffly. “Of course. I wanted to assess the investment potential, but is there no lift?”
“There’s a service elevator,” I mumble. “Let me ask the concierge if there’s another room available.”
I’m sure this is going to mess up the personalized haunts, but then again, Bonnie is a potential investor, and I can’t have her inconvenienced.
“Have my parents checked in yet?” I ask Neil Thompson, the concierge I hired away from a chain motel in Sacramento.
