Hallow Be the Haunt (Krewe of Hunters #22.5)(10)

“Yes, I remember. They’re great.” And they were. The company did background checks on their people and hired only those who knew how to handle crowd management. They escorted out anyone creating problems, and ushered people along the right way. There were also two cops on duty at the plantation every time they held such an event.

“So,” Beth said. “Get comfortable. Halloween occurs next Tuesday. That will be our last night, but it will be a big night, as you all can imagine.”

“I came here last Halloween as an attendee,” Lavinia said. “It was great—but working here is even better.”

The others agreed. Echoes went around the room—they were all new actors this year, but it seemed several had attended in the past. Ashley hadn’t met any of them before, but then, when she had been here for the event, she’d been busy. Faces became a blur.

“We’d like to know if anything is bothering any of you, if there are any trouble spots. If there’s anything you may need or think we might handle better,” Beth said.

“I had a bit of a problem the other night,” Rhonda Blackstone said. She, like Lavinia Carole, seemed to be in her mid-to late-twenties. She was thin and blonde, not particularly beautiful, but cute and energetic.

“What happened?” Ashley asked. She’d meant to keep silent because Beth managed this, but she was curious. And Beth would have asked the same question.

“A kid kept trying to grab at me,” Rhonda said. “He was obnoxious.”

“Okay. Next time, motion to the security man or woman who’s assigned to be with you,” Beth said.

“We keep the rules posted,” Ashley added. “The actors won’t touch the visitors, and the visitors aren’t allowed to touch the actors. We have that in every advertisement that goes out—and posted on the porch. Beth is right—we hate to be mean, but if anyone goes after you, we state clearly we have the right to escort them out.”

“That’s good,” Valerie Deering said. “Rhonda’s guy was about thirteen—a snot-nosed kid. I had an older man who kept asking me if I wanted to stir up something of a witch’s brew with him later. And I swear he was trying to cop a feel.”

“Don’t let me see this guy,” Jonathan said. “Sorry,” he added quickly. “I wouldn’t bash him or anything—I’d just see he was put outside the Donegal gates right fast.”

“That’s why we hire security,” Ashley assured him.

“I didn’t want to cause trouble,” Rhonda said hastily.

“Nor me,” Valerie added.

“You won’t be causing trouble. And trust me,” Ashley said, “we want Halloween to go smoothly for everyone. You all included.”

Beth glanced at her notes. “I also wanted to assure you there will still be no more than twenty in each group through the kitchen and the smokehouse. Ghosts—don’t you take any guff from anyone either, all right?”

Trina laughed. She was older than the others—possibly forty or so. She appeared to be the athletic type, wiry and fit, with short blonde hair and sparkling green eyes.

“We ghosts keep our distance,” she assured Ashley. “Four-to six-feet from the hay wagon at all times. We haven’t had any trouble, and we’re not expecting any on Halloween either. We’re careful. Your grandfather gave us a speech about how he doesn’t want any of us hurt.” She hesitated. “He also told us we have to stay a good fifty feet away from the cemetery at all times. That’s cool. Though it would be fun to come from that direction.”

She said the last with hope.

“Sorry. My grandfather is too respectful of the dead, I’m afraid. I can’t change that ruling,” Ashley told her.

“People don’t mess with me or Harold,” Artie said. “I’m the ghost who walks around with an ax in my head and Harold has a pirate sword. They see us and shrink into each other on the wagon. Hey, what’s the rule with costumes this year?”

“No costumes for the visitors, only the actors. We offer them a place to dress up after, if they want,” Beth said. “It will be no different on Halloween.”

There were a few more general questions, and then the meeting broke.

Lavinia Carole lingered a moment, pausing to ask Ashley if she would be there that night.

“I—“ She started to say yes, but didn’t get the chance.

Her phone rang. And she saw that it was Jake.

“Excuse me,” she murmured, and turned away to answer it.

“Dinner?” Jake asked her.

She frowned. “Yes, we usually do eat it.”

“In the Quarter. With me.”

“Romantic—or on the case?”

“Unfortunately, on the case. But we’ll still have a nice dinner. I promise.”

“Sure. Are you driving back for me, or…?”

“Can you come in? Get a lift if you can. We’ll only have one car that way.”

“Okay.”

“And one more thing.”

“What?”

“If you see a trio of witches, get the hell away.”

“Funny.”

“No. Not funny. Promise, if you should see witches, get the hell away.”

“Okay. I promise.”