Page 93 of All You Want
“I didn’t hear anything.” Neon’s voice retreats. “Ow, I broke a fingernail. This place is disgusting.”
I scuttle back to the mineshaft door and wait until I hear nothing before turning the metal wheel to crank it open.
Foxy’s still lying on the mattress, drooling into the gag.
I seal the door and ungag her.
“Did you hurt my friends? What did you do?” she asks.
“I didn’t hurt them. Scared them away, but we’re going to have to try something different.”
“Like what? What do you want? Are you going to let me go?” Her voice gets on my nerves, but at this point, I need someone to sound off with.
“They’re going trick or treating tonight, and we’ll be waiting for them—only not where they think.”
“What do you mean? Are you letting me go?” she asks.
“Yes, if you act the part for me.” I yank her to her feet. “Can you disguise your voice?”
“Oh, yes, I minored in theater in college,” Foxy says. “I can play my part, but promise you won’t hurt Tami or anyone?”
“Have I not treated you well?” I place a straw into a water bottle for her. “You wanted a horrid haunt weekend, and you’re going to get your money’s worth.”
Thirty-Two
~ Tami ~
I print out the maps to the Trickvenger Hunt locations, along with clues. After Rosalie and Suzette came back covered with coal dust, Todd left to search Diana’s house to find her costume, as well as the pickaxe and other incriminating evidence.
“It was so scary,” Suzette says. “You did a great job with the coal bin and the scary sound effects.”
“I still think someone was down there,” Rosalie says. “It responded to what we did. Right after I said I saw his shadow, he switched off his lamp.”
Suzette sucks in a hissing breath. “Enough. I’ve had enough bone-chilling scares. It was spooky down there, and my hair’s a mess. Broke my fingernail and dirtied up my jumpsuit. What am I going to wear?”
“How about a plain black sheet?” Rosalie laughs. “I can’t wear my stuff either.”
“How are we going to pick up guys hiding in sheets?” Suzette whines.
“By sneaking up on them, putting your hands over their eyes, and when they turn around, drop the sheet.” Rosalie’s voice gets husky. “Have you narrowed down anyone you want?”
Suzette shakes her pretty black curls and pouts. “That cute one is a deputy, so I can’t take him away from his duties.”
“Don’t tell me you’re into older guys, not that there’s anything wrong with that,” Rosalie says.
“I’m not telling. It’s one of the young ones, but I haven’t seen him around. I’ll have to wear the slinky fish outfit then. Hope he’s a fisherman.” Suzette grabs a garment bag and unzips it.
“Did you guys find any clues?” I ask them. “Do you think anyone used the tunnel to sneak around the basement?”
“The cat definitely did,” Rosalie says. “Do you think Diana used it to get away from the murder scene?”
“Oh, she could have hidden in the Baja Angel room until the coast was clear.” Suzette lifts out a scaly, silvery dress.
“Right, and then snuck upstairs to be with your uncle and get her alibi,” Rosalie adds. “Hey, wait, if everyone guesses Diana for the murderer, then no one will win the gold nugget.”
“The gold nugget isn’t even real. There’s an asterisk on the box,” I explain. “Anyway, I’ve extended the deadline for the guess, because Diana must have had some help, especially with planting false clues to throw us off track.”
“What do your gray cells tell you?” Rosalie asks Suzette who rolls her eyes and says, “I’m not telling.”
