Jessie Delacroix_Fright Night at the Haunted Inn

by Constance Barker

  I’m not sure why, but that all seemed to make a great deal of sense to me for some reason. “And Kaya…are you…?”

  “No. I’m actually mortal and nearly 22 years old. I met Leo in Kapuvár one year ago. But I’m from Romania, not Hungary.” She looked a little uncomfortable as she continued. “And I…I’m a werewolf.”

  Okay, now, I wasn’t expecting that…though nothing could really surprise me after Leo’s story. But I knew there was more. Why were they here?

  Anika heard my thoughts and gave me the answer. She leaned over the table and spoke quietly. “Gus picked up their distressed cry for help in their thoughts, and I went through the wormhole in the basement to get them. Apparently, it was the night before a Super Moon in their timeline too, so I guess things were aligned just right so that Gus was able to hear their thoughts.” She looked one way and then the other to make sure no one would overhear. “Kaya is being chased by the renowned werewolf hunter, Colonel Aldous Pennington Tramador – and he was getting very close. Not to mention, there’s a full moon tonight.”

  “Yes – a Super Moon at that,” I remembered aloud.

  Anika nodded. “It will be the biggest and brightest in 130 years. Tramador captured her family when she was a young girl. He had heard that she was bitten by a werewolf and spied on their cottage during every full moon until the curse of the beast had grown full in her veins, and he saw her turn into a wolf.”

  Kaya was a bit shaken, holding back a tear, and Leo gave her a kiss on the cheek. “He killed my parents and took me and my little sister, just barely old enough to walk, and put us in his traveling freak show. He chained me down and charged people to watch me change during every full moon. I escaped almost three years ago, when I was just 19.”

  She was crying quite profusely now, and Leo was doing his best to comfort her. Then she regained her composure and continued speaking.

  “I had a bit of an episode last night, as the moon was so huge and nearly full…” she said.

  That explained why she looked so raggedy and dirty.

  “…Tramador was in Vienna with his circus show and spotted us. We barely escaped from his henchmen. I’m afraid I might have torn one of them to bits when I was going through the transformation.”

  Anika looked at me. “Leo had to use his superhuman strength, speed, and fangs to beat them off – and now they’re onto him too.”

  “I hadn’t revealed my vampirism publicly for half a century now – or rather, then – and it has kept me quite safe. But now I’m afraid we’re both being hunted.” He timidly touched the small chandelier hanging above the table and then looked outside to the street. “From the looks of these lighting apparatuses and the carriages in the street that move without a horse to power them, I think we must be thousands of years into the future.”

  I smiled at the thought of Whispering Pines being futuristic and was about to speak when I heard a little rap on the window by our booth. I looked up to see Wally’s smiling face. He waved and then seemed a little stunned at the sight of our two disheveled guests. He said something to Molly. She waved too, and they headed off, almost skipping, looking as though they were in a really good mood.

  Maddy came into the entrance of the Tea Room from the front desk in the lobby wearing a big smile. “I was afraid we were going to go into the week without booking the Spectral Suite – but we just had a walk-in, Jessie. He took the suite as well as two of the second-floor rooms for his party!”

  “That’s wonderful, Maddy! Who is it?”

  Maddy squinted and looked up as she tried to recall the name. “It’s a Colonel Tramador. He looks like he might be one of those ghost hunter types we often get.”

  I could feel the chill run through Leo and Kaya, and Anika rose to stand in front of them. A man, looking very much like a big-game hunter, stuck his face through the doorway. He was wearing a drab brown fedora and uniform, sporting half-calf boots with his pants tucked in and billowing out above them. He twirled the end of his handlebar moustache, and then he tipped his hat and gave us a cocky and spine-chilling sneer.

  Chapter Three

  This was stacking up to be another one of those crazy weekends. At least it was already Sunday. Maddy was getting the Colonel and his beautiful (and way-too-young-for-him) companion settled into the suite on the third level while his small army of six men and women moved into the two second-floor rooms on the back side of the Inn.

  Anika brought Leo and Kaya across the lobby to her antique pawnshop to come up with a plan to keep them safe. Perhaps it was good that Tramador was here…at least they knew exactly where their adversary was.

  As for me, I filled Arthur’s food and water dish in the lobby by the back door of the kitchen and then rolled up my sleeves to help Carlo and Ginny get things ready for the Sunday dinner rush and the Monster’s Ball. A timer bell chimed just as I put on my apron.

  “Jessica, can you please get the roasts out of the oven for me? Set them on the prep table, please.”

  Carlo was our renowned and rotund chef. He was busy slicing steamed zucchini on the mandolin and then quickly marinating it in a concoction of soy sauce, Worcestershire, lemon juice, and brown sugar. He skillfully took a whole steaming roast from the first pan with two dinner forks as soon as I set it down and sliced it thinly on the electric slicer.

  He cut a stack of slices into quarters and dealt them out like a Las Vegas poker dealer onto a half-sheet pan of awaiting toasted crostini bread that had already been topped with a variety of spreads. Some had a fancy-looking guacamole, others had a Gorgonzola dressing, and still others had what appeared to be a spinach dip. Next came a layer of the sliced zucchini, half of a cherry tomato or sliced black olives, a bit of shredded provolone, and a sprinkle of green herbs – it smelled like cilantro and fresh parsley.

  “Ginny,” he commanded, “put this in the Salamander broiler for one minute to melt the cheese and then put a squirt of sweet chili sauce on each them.”

  Lexi walked in though the swinging doors from the dining room. “And then I’ll pass them out to the guests! They look wonderful, Carlo.”

  “Wonderful, my boney behind!” Granny groused as her spirit floated down from above us. She stood upside down on the ceiling and got nose-to-nose with Carlo.

  Of course, only Carlo and I could hear her – and, fortunately, he was unable to see her as she crossed her arms menacingly.

  “Those fancy-schmancy bricks aren’t fit for a mutt. My dear husband used to call crapola like that ‘SOS’ from his army days – and it doesn’t mean ‘sweetness on a shingle,’ you overweight excuse for a fry cook.”

  “Granny…”

  “Don’t worry about it, Miss Jessica…I’m quite used to Miss Aggie’s insults. I know she doesn’t mean it – it’s just her way of showing she cares.”

  “I mean every damn word of it, fat boy. And the only thing I care about is making sure you don’t send garbage out to my customers. This is still my place, and my reputation is at stake.”

  Carlo just smiled as he pulled two full baskets out of the deep fryer.

  “What kind of fried dog feces do you have there now? I’m sure it’s some kind of New Age French excrement with no flavor and no nutritional value.”

  “Not quite, Miss Aggie. These are your famous Filipino egg rolls with beef and potato and julienned carrots and jicama, made exactly to your recipe.”

  “Oh…my lumpia. Well, it’s about time you fixed up some decent vittles for the folks.”

  She stopped her bellyaching since she had run out of things to complain about, as my mother’s ghost stuck her head out from behind the back shelves that held most of the pans and china.

  Carlo leaned in and whispered to me, “It was your mother’s idea for me to make these in case your grandmother was in one of her moods.”

  In case? Granny is always in a complaining mood when Carlo is cooking. I nodded at Mom, and she winked at me.

  “Here you go, Lex.” Ginny had just transferred the crostini
onto a serving tray for Lexi.

  “Thanks!” Then Lexi looked back and saw Mom’s knitting needles, which to her seemed to be floating in the air as they magically created some booties for Lexi’s new baby. She inhaled though her mouth, but decided not to speak and just shook her head and went back to the dining room.

  Ginny and I helped put all of Carlo’s tea sandwiches and other creations onto trays and platters as he produced them like an assembly line.

  “That’s enough for now, girls. Ginny, your breakfast and brunch shift is long over – you can go now. Thanks for your help with dinner.”

  “No problem, Chef – you gave me a break to have coffee with the baptismal party, so it’s the least I can do.”

  I took off my apron. “Come on, Ginny, let’s go sit down and get you some food. You missed the brunch with the rest of us – you just had coffee and mosquito talk with Ralphie!”

  “Jessie…”

  “Yes, Granny?” She seemed a little hesitant to say what she wanted.

  “Could you, um…cut one of those egg rolls into four or five pieces and put them in Arthur’s dog dish?”

  I smiled. Granny often joined Arthur inside his little beagle body. I wasn’t too sure if it was a good idea when she first started doing it, but they both seem to like it, and it’s the only way she can go outside of the Inn – until she decides to cross all the way over into the spirit realm – and it’s the only way she can eat and enjoy real food.

  “Yes, ma’am!”

  “Thank you, dear. I just want to make sure that Carlo is making my lumpia properly…you know. I learned how to make it from my Filipino neighbor, Jing Jing, back in Louisiana many years ago.”

  I knew she just wanted a taste, but I didn’t want to say anything. I cut one up, blew on it a little, and set it out behind the door for Arthur.

  “Arfy! Come and get your snack.”

  Granny dived into Arthur, and Arthur dived into the egg rolls.

  “Dining room or courtyard?” I asked Ginny.

  “It’s a beautiful sunny day with a pleasant breeze – let’s go out back.”

  Colonel Tramador and his companion were just sitting, and he waved us over. “Please join us, Miss…Delacroix, isn’t it?”

  Ginny is no shrinking violet, and was happy to meet new people. “Thank you kindly, Sir. I’m Virginia Vandersnoop, of the Okefenokee Vandersnoops – but you can call me Ginny!”

  “Pleased to meet you, Ginny,” he replied with some kind of Eastern European accent, though he had obviously been schooled in British English and had a bit of a British accent as well. “I am Colonel Tramador, and this is my, uh…niece, Lilianna.”

  Lilianna smiled gently and said, “Nagyon élvezem.”

  “Mucho gusto!” Ginny responded with a couple of snorts.

  I wanted to take the opportunity to glean as much from the colonel’s mind as possible, so I made sure to shake his hand for a “wired” connection.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Colonel…Lilianna.”

  I was expecting more of a sinister and secretive vibe from the man, but instead found his mind to be free of evil thoughts. Perhaps, I thought, he’s just so evil that it feels normal and right to him to hunt people down like animals.

  I shook Lilianna’s hand briefly too and was a little surprised to sense a dark and foreboding emptiness…as well as a sense of a shameful secret. The sadness was apparent in her eyes and demeanor. She was very lovely and sweet – perhaps 17, with gorgeous long dark hair and sparkling deep-set light brown, honey-caramel eyes.

  We sat, and the Colonel ordered tea sandwiches and desserts for all of us. He drank straight shots of vodka, which I thought a bit odd for early afternoon on a Sunday. But it did get him into a friendly and talkative mood.

  “Colonel,” I asked, “I trust you won’t be bothering any of our other guests during your stay. I’ve been told that you may have an interest in certain friends of ours.”

  This was a shrewd man and nobody’s fool. “Miss Delacroix, I’m sure you’ve heard that I’m some kind of bounty hunter or monster killer or Van Helsing – but that’s all a lot of overblown rubbish.” He smiled at Lilianna and put his arm protectively around her shoulders. Perhaps eastern customs with one’s niece are somewhat different than ours. “I do enjoy hunting wild animals from time to time – but I would never hunt down a…human being. You see, I’m just a businessman.”

  “A businessman, is it? I see. What kind of business is it that brings you here to Whispering Pines, then, Colonel?”

  “Why, I’m a talent scout, Miss Delacroix. I’m an agent for the Trans-Siberian Circus. I know that circuses no longer generate much attention here in the States – especially now that your misguided peaceniks have forced you to retire all of your elephants.” He laughed and shook his head. “But it’s still the greatest show on earth across much of Eastern Europe, Russia, Kazakhstan, and many parts of Asia. My speciality is finding people with, shall we say…unique talents and abilities. Why, Lilianna here is quite the contortionist, aren’t you dear? Yes…she can lie on her belly, arch her feet over her head, and shoot and apple off her cousin’s head using a bow and arrow with her feet…”

  “I’ve seen it before,” I said.

  “ – all while balancing a crucible of molten lead on her forehead and holding herself up on one hand while swinging on a trapeze.”

  “Holy macaroons!” Ginny was very intrigued with the young girl’s ability. “You’ll have to teach me how to do that one, Lilianna! Jessie, me and you can go on the road and I can shoot things off your head with my feet! Ain’t that terrific?”

  “Uh…I think I’ll stick to the B and B business, Ginny.”

  “What else can you do, Lilianna?” Ginny inquired, a bit excitedly.

  “Ginny! I think contortion, archery, and aerial acrobatics is quite enough talent for one woman.”

  Tramador smiled and patted Lilianna on the back. “Well, you know, she is from Eastern Europe…and our people are known for many unique abilities.” He petted her head roughly. “Don’t be surprised if you see a panther, a poodle, or a python on the grounds during our visit.”

  Lilianna lowered her eyes and seemed ashamed.

  “Actually…” Tramador bit the end off a cigar and lit it up. “…we’re still working on the python.”

  Chapter Four

  I went back to my little apartment atop the carriage house next to the Inn for a quick change of clothes. Ginny and Arthur waited outside while Lionel, our all-around handyman, bellman, and operations manager, was washing off my yellow 1999 Silverado pickup truck.

  “Thanks, Lionel. Arthur and I are going to walk Ginny home. Don’t forget it’s a full moon, so there might be a lot of people stopping in later after the Ghost Walk.”

  “Plus a lot of werewolves and goblins for the Monster’s Ball,” Ginny interjected.

  “Yes, Ma’am…” Lionel smiled and began to rinse the soap off the truck with the hose. “…I’ve heard about the big Fright Night. I’m washing your truck so it will look nice and shiny when the visitors start coming, and I will open the road here when I’m done so they can park. I think you will be very busy.”

  Ginny nodded. “They added a laser light show to make the Ghost Walk extra spooky, and their ghostly apparitions are synced up with some scary music to boot.”

  The night of every new moon and full moon there was a Ghost Walk from the far end of antique row all the way to L’Auberge Hantée, led by the Grim Reaper himself. It was kind of fun for the tourists and antique shoppers, with all the legends of ghosts and demons, not to mention pirates and buried treasure. Whispering Pines had no shortage of ghost stories and legends, that was for sure – and a lot of them were true.

  Lionel tried to keep the big horseshoe driveway in front of the Inn open for drop-offs and pick-ups, but on special nights he would take away the long sawhorse and open the little gravel road between the Inn and my carriage house that went right into the shallow pine forest of 100-foot l
oblolly pines and right down through the swamp to the river. Some people used it to access the swamp and river with their little airboats – but the big airboat ferry that took people over to Stony Point and back several times every day was about a half-mile or so down the river.

  Ginny lived above Wally and Molly’s Bakeshop, in the middle of antique row. It was a very popular rest stop for the tourists and antique hunters.

  “Are you pulling a shift at the bakery today, Ginny?” She was a great pastry chef as well as a great regular chef and line cook.

  “I’m just going to toss together a couple batches of bear claws and ghost cookies for the Fright Night crowd. That’s why I borrowed a couple pounds of confectioner’s sugar from you,” she said patting a bag she was carrying under her arm. “I’ll need a lot of white icing to cover those ghost-shaped sugar cookies.”

  “Bring me a couple when you come back for dinner.”

  “Hey, hey! Hi, Jess…hello, Ginny.” Wally was behind the counter wearing his white paper hat and white apron. He pushed a small bag across the top of the display case to me. “You forgot your Mutt Morsels when you stopped in with Arthur on your jog this morning.”

  “And Arthur didn’t let me forget it either! He’s a big fan of your fresh-baked doggie treats. Thanks, Wally. Are you working late tonight? Where’s Molly?”

  “Well, we’ll stay open until the Ghost Walkers get past our shop. This special Fright Night thing might make it a little busier than usual. Then I’m going to run right down to the famous Nirvana Tea Room and have a glass of wine and a plateful of Carlo’s tea sandwiches.”

  I laughed at his “famous” comment. “Sounds good – and take Molly with you. She deserves a glass of wine too. Oh – and hey, why don’t you have Ginny bake up a couple dozen of those jumbo banana-chocolate chip muffins and bring them with you. Ghost Walkers are always looking for a sweet treat. I’ll pay you for them now.”