The Magic of Halloween Night

by Kathi Daley

  “Ten-fifteen.”

  I leaned up on my elbows. “Ten-fifteen? How did I sleep until ten-fifteen?”

  Cass ran a finger along my jawline. “We were up late, and without the sun shining in the window, the room remained dark. I suppose sleeping in was inevitable.” He laid back down and pulled me into his arms. “We don’t need to be anywhere,” he reminded me. “There’s no schedule to keep, no job to show up for, or tasks to perform.”

  I glanced at Milo, and even he was still asleep on the rug next to the bed. Realizing that Cass was right and we really didn’t need to get up, I laid back down, snuggled up against him, and laid my cheek on his chest. “This is really nice,” I said.

  He tightened his arms around me.

  “I’m not used to sleeping in,” I added. “In fact, I really can’t remember the last time I slept this late.”

  “Even on the weekends?” Cass asked.

  “Even then,” I confirmed. “If nothing else, the smell of Gracie making breakfast usually gets me up out of bed.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  “No. You?”

  He pulled me onto his chest and kissed me like he might never let me go. “Not for food,” he whispered, his lips next to mine, as he rolled us both over and chased any thoughts I might have had of leaving the warmth of the bed out of my mind.

  ******

  A long time later, we got up and made breakfast. Being with Cass as we performed simple tasks such as scrambling eggs, making coffee, and buttering toast somehow made everything better. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this happy. Not that the threat of the curse kicking in and ruining everything wasn’t in the back of my mind, because it was, but the thing about the curse was that it didn’t immediately strike down those destined to fall victim to its dictate. The inevitable tragedy often didn’t occur for years after the igniting factor. I supposed in our case, now that we’d faced the challenge of the curse, all we could do was live each day one at a time and wait to see what might or might not happen in the long run.

  “The rain is getting even harder,” I said, staring out the window. “I know we decided that any sort of heavy flooding wouldn’t be a problem, but I’m beginning to think we might have been wrong about that.”

  “Yeah.” Cass frowned. “It’s coming down harder than I expected. I guess all we can do is keep an eye on things. Do you want more coffee?”

  “Please.”

  He got up to grab the pot. While he was up, he picked up his cell, which he’d left on the kitchen counter that divided the cooking area from the dining area. I watched as he frowned and then held the phone to his ear. I assumed he was listening to a voicemail.

  After a moment, he looked in my direction. “I’m afraid I have to go.”

  “Go? Go where?”

  “Into town. There’s been a murder.” He paused and then continued. “I’m afraid it’s Robert Harrison.”

  “Robert? What happened to Robert?”

  He headed for the stairs to his loft bedroom. I followed. “I’m not sure. The message was from Trent.” I knew Trent Vinton was one of Cass’s deputies. “The central dispatch office received an anonymous call from a woman claiming to have heard gunshots. Trent responded and found Robert’s body in the forest, not all that far from where Bill crashed his car.” Cass began pulling on a pair of jeans over the boxers he’d been wearing. “I’m afraid that’s all I know at this point. Trent is on the scene, but I need to go.”

  “I’m coming with you,” I said, pulling on my jeans, which I planned to pair with a heavy sweater and waterproof slicker.

  The drive out to the old highway was a slow one. Rain poured from the sky, making visibility almost impossible despite the fact that the wipers were working overtime. At least the air had stilled completely, which meant the rain fell directly toward the ground in sheets rather than blowing around as it did at times.

  Cass lived on the far side of the lake, so before we could even access the highway, we had to make our way around the narrow lake road. The low spots along the route had already flooded, which most likely meant that by the time we returned, the road would be nearly impassable. I found myself wishing we hadn’t left Milo and Alastair at the house. It would be awful if we couldn’t get back to them. Cass drove a heavy-duty truck with a lift kit, so it would take a lot of flooding to make passage impossible.

  When we arrived at the crime scene, we not only found Trent but Cass’s other deputy, Rafe, as well. Both men had on yellow rain slickers, but given the amount of precipitation dumping from the sky, I doubt either had a dry piece of clothing.

  “Wait here,” Cass said after he parked the truck on the side of the road. “I’ll check out the situation. There’s no use both of us getting wet.”

  I wanted to argue that I was coming with him but didn’t. I’d invited myself along on this adventure, so the least I could do was stay out of the way.

  As Cass slipped out of the truck into the rain, an ambulance showed up. Based on what Trent had told Cass, Harrison had been dead for at least twenty-four hours, so I wasn’t sure an ambulance was warranted. Still, they did need to transport the body to the morgue, and perhaps the four-wheel-drive ambulance owned by the county was the best way of accomplishing that given the storm and the flooding that had already occurred.

  Sitting in the truck waiting was frustrating, especially given the fact that with the pouring rain, I couldn’t see what was going on beyond the tree line. After at least thirty minutes, Cass returned. The poor guy was soaked to the skin.

  “Any idea what happened?” I asked.

  Cass turned the engine on, and then he flipped the heater on. “No. Not really. He’s been shot in the back. It looks like he might have been running, and there might have been a trail of blood at one point, but the rain has washed the blood away. There is a trail of broken branches, however, that makes it appear he was traveling through the forest from the north. At this point, I can only assume that someone was chasing him and shot him in the back. He continued forward for a while before falling to the ground and dying.”

  “I don’t see a car. How did he get out here?” I asked.

  “I assume the car is parked elsewhere in the area. It’s likely the killer moved the car, but if he or she didn’t move it, and we can find it, we might be able to figure out who killed the guy.”

  I looked around the area. Other than a handful of isolated farms and ranches, there wasn’t much out here. “You said that Bill’s car was found in the area.”

  Cass nodded. “Just around the bend.”

  “Do you think a single killer is responsible for both deaths?” I asked.

  He wiped his face with the arm of his shirt. “Before Robert’s death, I really had decided that Bill’s death was just a terrible accident, but now I’m not so sure. Bill and Robert had been friends. They both grew up here in Foxtail Lake. They had dinner together a week ago last Thursday, and based on a preliminary investigation, it appears that Bill died later that same night, while Robert died exactly one week later.”

  “Which would explain why he never showed up for the filming yesterday,” I said. “It sounds like he was already dead.”

  “It does look that way.”

  If both Bill and Robert had been killed, the most logical suspect was Jennifer. She knew both men and had dined with both of them Thursday evening a week ago. Maybe she’d killed Bill after he refused to sign the divorce papers, and then Robert found out and threatened to turn her in, so she killed him too. Although that didn’t explain what either man had been doing all the way out here.

  “So, what happens next?” I asked.

  “The body is being taken to the morgue. Given the fact that it’s Saturday, it seems unlikely I’ll have the coroner’s report until Monday. Rafe and Trent are going to backtrack to see if they can figure out exactly where Robert’s trek through the woods started. I’m going to take you home and then come back and talk to a few of the locals in the area.”

>   “I don’t want to go home. I’ll come with you.”

  Cass hesitated.

  “I might be able to help. There might be some folks who will talk to me who won’t talk to you.”

  He seemed hesitant but eventually agreed. He pulled up a map of the area on his phone and identified the two properties it was most likely that Robert had been running from when he was shot. Cass pulled onto the highway and then started the long trip around the perimeter of the Farthington Farm. The farm was deserted, but not all that far from where Robert’s body was found as the crow flies, so Cass decided to start there and then fan out in every direction from there.

  When the Farthington family had lived in the area, they’d owned a large piece of land. It was shaped like a huge circle with smaller properties tucked in around it. Sam Farthington was the last heir to live on the property. After he died, the place was boarded up and had remained deserted since then. By the time we arrived at the rutted dirt drive that hadn’t seen any maintenance for years, the rain had slowed a bit. At least temporarily. The sky was still dark and heavy with clouds just waiting to burst, but for the moment, the deluge had slowed to a sprinkle.

  The house was weathered and gray. The porch was partially rotted, and the windows, which had been boarded, seemed undisturbed. Cass told me to wait while he climbed out and tried the front door. It was locked. He went around the house to try the back door, but I figured it would be locked as well. I studied each of the boarded windows while I waited, but they really did look to be undisturbed. Deciding to check the barn, which sagged in the center and looked as if another strong wind might take it down completely, I slipped out of the truck and crossed the muddy yard.

  The door to the barn was locked, but there was a missing board in the siding that provided a space large enough for me to slip inside. The interior of the barn was damp and musty. The roof had holes in several locations that allowed the moisture to leak through. I really hadn’t stopped to think about what might have happened after Sam died, and his family had boarded up the place. I guess I assumed they’d cleared things out, but in addition to a stack of hay, the barn was filled with both discarded farm equipment and boxes of items that looked like mementos Sam may have wanted to keep and stored here.

  “Callie,” I heard Cass call.

  “In the barn,” I called back.

  I listened as Cass first tried the door and then slipped in through the same small opening I had.

  “I thought you were going to wait in the truck.”

  “I was going to,” I answered, “but then I got bored. Look at all this stuff.”

  Cass crossed to the boxes and opened the lid on one on the top. “It looks like Sam used the barn for storage,” he said. “Unless one of the heirs boxed up this stuff and stuck it out here.”

  I looked around the dark interior. “It doesn’t look like anyone has been here for a while.”

  Cass nodded, poking around as he did so. “The house is locked up. I guess we should check out the closest property either to the west or east.”

  “Do you know who owns those farms?” I wondered.

  “The farm to the west is owned by the Landow brothers, and the farm to the east is owned by Ed Cofield.”

  “I would think either would be willing to talk to us. Tell us what they know. Where do you want to start?” I asked.

  “Let’s start with Ed.”

  By the end of the day, Cass and I had spoken to seven property owners, but none had claimed to have seen or heard anything. There was no answer at four farms, so Cass made a note to check back later. None of the farms we’d checked had driveways covered with red and green stones. Of course, we really had no way of knowing if Bill had picked up the stones in his tires just before being forced off the road, which was Cass’s new theory as to what happened on that Thursday night a week ago, but the stones did provide us with some level of information, so we decided to keep an eye out as we made our rounds.

  “Rafe and Trent are back at the station. Let’s head there too,” Cass suggested.

  “Okay.”

  Cass looked toward the sky as he started the truck. “It looks like the sky is going to open up at any minute. We’ll see what the guys have to say, and then we’ll head back to the boathouse. I’m sure Milo is ready to be let out by now.”

  By the time we arrived at Cass’s office in town, both Rafe and Trent were more than ready to head home in order to dry off and warm up. Both men reported that they’d walked the woods closest to where the body had been found, but other than broken branches in the immediate area, they’d been unable to pick up the trail. If there had ever been blood or footprints, the heavy rain had washed them away.

  The coroner had been notified about the body, but as Cass had already pointed out, it was the weekend, so it was unlikely he’d get an update until Monday. I asked Cass if the folks at the movie shoot had been notified of the death of one of their stars, and Cass reported that the phone lines were down in the area because of the storm, so he hadn’t been able to speak with anyone. After a bit of discussion, it was decided that if we still hadn’t been able to reach them by tomorrow, we’d drive up to the resort and inform them in person. Chances were that the film crew and cast had hunkered in to wait out the storm, and no one would be working until Monday anyway.

  By the time we made it back to Cass’s, it was dark. The rain had begun to come down steadily again, and the low-lying areas along the way had been flooded, but we’d made it without incident. After Cass let Milo out to take care of business, he’d built a fire in the stone fireplace. We were both chilled to the bone after an entire day of being wet, so we took a very long and very hot shower together, and then Cass wrapped me in his huge thick robe while he slipped on a pair of sweatpants.

  Dinner was soup from a can and grilled cheese sandwiches, but eating it while curled up in front of the fire with Cass, turned the simple meal into one of the best I’d ever had.

  “You need lights,” I said.

  He looked at me. “Lights?”

  “Little orange lights on your mantle. It would add a Halloween feel to the place.”

  “I see.” He smiled. “I’ll pick some up Monday.”

  “And some of those little pumpkins they had at the market last week. Those would look festive on the mantle as well.”

  “I can get some pumpkins.”

  I pulled the thick comforter Cass had brought into the living room from the bedroom over my legs. “It really is cozy in here. Especially with the rain and all.” Alastair crawled into my lap and started purring. “But you’re also pretty isolated out here. Do you ever get lonely?”

  “Sometimes,” he answered. “But I have Milo and a busy life. I really never felt lonely until you came back to town.”

  I raised a brow. “I make you feel lonely?”

  He shrugged. “Sometimes. When I’m here alone and missing you. Being alone isn’t necessarily a bad thing. In fact, I really treasure my alone time. It’s being alone when your heart yearns to be with someone who isn’t with you, that’s really a drag.”

  I laid my head on his shoulder. “I guess I understand that.” Part of me wished this weekend would never end, but I knew it would, and at some point, I supposed we’d need to have a talk about what all of this meant for our future. I was still pretty sure marrying the man I loved would be a bad idea given the curse and all, but then I thought of Penelope, who hadn’t married but had died young anyway, and I wondered if denying my heart what it most wanted would really make a difference in the long run.

  Chapter 13

  Sunday

  By the following morning, the rain had slowed to a drizzle. The sky was still dark, but not nearly as dark as it had been the previous day. I called Paisley just to check on her and was happy to find that she was having a wonderful time. I wondered how Aunt Gracie’s leaf tour had worked out with the rain that had been coming down in the area, but I suspected that even if she and Tom had been forced to hole up somewhere and w
ait it out, they’d most likely been having a wonderful time. Cass had finally been able to get through to the folks out at the movie site and inform them that one of their actors was dead. They assured Cass that they’d take care of informing others back in LA who might need to be notified of the development.

  Cass still hadn’t heard from the coroner, but it seemed evident that the cause of death was a gunshot to the back. Trying to figure where Robert had been before his mad dash through the woods was proving to be a difficult task, but Cass and I had talked about it and decided that if the flooding receded enough to make passage along the lake road doable, we’d take a ride out and have another look around.

  Cass and I went over the map we had and tried to figure out who made a likely candidate as the killer, but despite our efforts, we came up cold. Given the fact that two men who knew each other had been killed in the same general area only days apart, although admittedly by completely different means, it seemed as if the killer must be someone who’d lived in Foxtail Lake back when we were all in high school.

  “Jamison Hanson has lived in the area for a long time,” I pointed out. “I can’t see why he would kill either man, and I’m not even sure Jamison knew either Bill or Robert, but his son, Everson, was a year ahead of us in school, so he would have known both men. Maybe Everson is home for a vacation, or maybe Jamison learned something from his son about the men and decided to retaliate for something that occurred in the past.”

  “Seems like a longshot,” Cass said.

  “I agree, but I don’t suppose it would hurt to try to talk to Jamison. I know he didn’t answer the door yesterday when we knocked, but he might be home today.”

  Cass nodded. “Yeah. Okay. If the water recedes enough so we can get out, we’ll take a drive out there.”

  I looked at the map again. It really didn’t seem likely that any of the men and women who lived off the old highway had killed either Bill or Robert, but I really didn’t have another theory.