Page 99 of All You Want
“Tami, it’s only me, Evan.” His voice is as familiar as it is creepy, a sibilant slithering hiss.
“What are you doing here? I thought you were doing a ghost hunt elsewhere.”
“Molly is substituting for me,” he says. “You hired yourself a pretty decent hunter. She’s quite dramatic.”
“True, but I’m not paying for her time to substitute for you.” I babble when I’m nervous, and right now, my mind is going five different directions. If Evan’s back, does this mean he never left? That he killed Viola?
He could have planted Todd’s mask in his own room to make it look like he’s being framed. Or maybe he took it as a souvenir thinking he was going to get away. Some killers do crazy stuff like that.
Evan takes off my cowgirl hat and runs his fingers through my hair. “I’m not asking you to pay her salary. She says she got time off.”
“Actually, she was supposed to work tonight.” I correct him. “Neil took over for her.”
“He has an undertaker quality,” Evan says. “I can picture him in a scream mask, a top hat, and tails.”
I grab my hat from him. “Sure, well, I have to catch up with my group. Will you be going back to your room? The police searched it.”
“That’s what I need to talk to you about.” He loops his arm around my shoulders as if we’re good friends. “Whoever searched the room stole your naked photos.”
“What? Why did you have them with you anyway?”
“I was using them as a model for the Corpulent Courtesan who’s supposed to haunt the dining room. She’ll be seen stuffing her face with all sorts of grotesque things.”
“Corpulent Courtesan?” I screech. “That’s insulting.”
“I already have her wireframes done, and I’m adding fashionable items for her to wear—whalebone corsets and the like.”
“No, you’re done with your gig here.” I squirm from underneath his arm. “You were supposed to give those pictures back to me.”
“Silly girl.” He tips his head back and laughs, hooking his thumbs through his beltloops. “How do you know I don’t have copies on the internet?”
“You can’t show them to anyone. You signed a confidentiality agreement.” How stupid I was as a sixteen-year-old freshman, believing him when he told me he’d get me into plus-size modeling. Oldest trick in the book, but for a girl raised in a small town with pampering parents, I was a naïve lamb among wolves.
“Why would I show my prized pictures to anyone other than your loving parents?” He pets my head and scratches behind my ear. “Especially if I have a business interest to protect. I rather like what we’re doing here at Harrowing Haunts. So theatrical with the creative freedom to tell stories and scare the living nightlights out of our guests. This place has the potential to be one of the world’s most famous haunted hotels, once the dinky town expands the roads and upgrades the bridge. There’s land to build more attractions, and once we take over the saloon, we can have a ghost hunter’s paradise on this spit of land across Hangman’s Bridge.”
“I’d rather keep it more historical than sensational,” I huff, completely incensed by now. Meanwhile, my heartbeat is stuttering because I wonder if Todd has found the pictures. “Do you think the police took them? When we went into your room, it looked like it had already been searched.”
“I didn’t say the police took them, because I don’t know if anyone else has been through the room earlier.”
“Yeah, well, someone planted an item in your room—something that was at the scene of the murder, which I’m assuming you came back to find out more about.” I can’t help the sarcastic tone I’m taking with him. Oftentimes, in a murder mystery or even in true crime, the perpetrator has a hard time staying away. They get joy out of tricking the police and scaring the public. They always feel they’re so clever, and this one thing, pride in what they’d done, is oftentimes their Achilles’ heel.
I’m waiting to see if he knows what it is.
He raises his eyebrow, not seeming surprised, but Evan’s a cagey character and not easily misled, so I up the ante. It’s the only shot I have.
“Since the pictures are now missing and could turn up anywhere, I guess your hold on me is over.” I cross my arms and shrug. “I’m much older than that young girl you took advantage of, and these days, what’s a few naked pictures when I could claim they were photoshopped?”
“Still don’t get it, do you?” He gets in my face, drilling me with those hard, cold eyes of his—reptilian, especially since he’s as bald as a skinhead. “You won’t get rid of me this easily.”
Footsteps and voices come our way, and Suzette says, “Hey, Tami, have you done your first station yet?”
“Who’s that?” Rosalie asks. “Is Casper friendly or unfriendly?”
“I’m Evan Graves, your ghostest host.” He marches up to shake their hands.
“Oh, girls, I’m so glad you joined up with me.” I greet them overly enthusiastically and interrupt them from speaking to Evan. “Did you figure out the tree of souls?”
“Yes, got my gift!” Suzette waves a moonstone necklace. “You’re really generous.”
