Hallow Be the Haunt (Krewe of Hunters #22.5)(19)

“But you know nothing about him? Not even his name?” Jake asked.

“I’m afraid not,” Nicholson said. “Emily?”

She shook her head. “No. Nothing. I’d ask her if she knew him, and she’d look a little upset and say he was just a pain—one of those customers who didn’t really want anything except to bother the help.”

“Thank you,” Jake said. “Oh, by the way, was Shelley religious?”

Nicholson frowned. “Um, not that I know of.”

“I think she was Catholic,” Emily said. “I think I saw her go into the church by St. Louis.”

“Our Lady of Guadalupe Chapel, on Rampart Street,” Jake said.

“I guess,” Emily murmured.

“Thank you,” Jake said. “Thank you so much. Mr. Nicholson, I’ve been asked by the police to pick up Miss Broussard’s notebook.”

“Her notebook?” Nicholson asked.

“It’s in her drawer upstairs.”

“You were in my room?” Emily asked.

“With Mrs. Nicholson,” Jake said.

“Oh, I see,” Nicholson said. “Well, I’ll go get it for you.”

“I’ll come with you, if you don’t mind.”

Nicholson was about to protest, Ashley was certain. “And while you two are up there, I’d like to talk to Emily about buying a painting. One of Shelley’s paintings—I love it, and I’d like to help the cause as well.” She spoke enthusiastically.

“Sir, let’s get the notebook,” Jake said. “Maybe there will be a clue to the young man harassing her.”

Nicholson apparently decided protesting would make him appear to be defensive—or guilty of something. He shrugged. “All right.”

When they were gone, Emily stared at Ashley. “You don’t really want that painting,” she accused.

“I do. I think it’s haunting and beautiful. And tragic.”

When Emily told her the price, Ashley realized she’d gotten a bit carried away with art that day. But it suddenly seemed incredibly important to her that she own the painting.

Because in that painting, Shelley had been saying something. Ashley was sure of it.

As she finished the transaction and Emily wrapped the painting, Jake and Nick Nicholson came back into the studio. Jake was thanking the man sincerely for his help and cooperation.

“Anything to help,” Nicholson assured him.

When they were about to head out, Jake said, “Really, thank you. I haven’t been able to reach Samantha Perkins, so I will be back. When is she working next?”

“Tomorrow, during the day,” Emily answered.

“Thank you,” Jake said.

“Oh, and I understand you’ve filled her space with that lovely and talented young woman we both met today,” Ashley told Nicholson.

He nodded. “I try. I try to help all that I can.”

“She’s brilliant. She’ll do well.”

Emily was staring at Nicholson. She hadn’t been told yet that their third had already been replaced.

Jake took Ashley by the arm. Thanking Emily and Nicholson again, they headed on out.

“You think something is going on there,” Ashley said.

“Smells like a duck, looks like a duck…”

“But it would be impossible for his ‘girls’ to be the witches—Shelley was killed before the witches were even seen. And it could be crazy to associate the two murders. I mean, you said yourself Shelley was sweet. Tink was—well, he was pretty much a monster.”

“Quacks like a duck,” Jake said. “They bear watching. Now, what do you want to be for the party?”

“Uh, whatever. Anything.”

“Except a witch.” He muttered.





Ashley had chosen to be a witch.

Not an ugly witch. Not a green witch with a huge hooked nose.

Instead, she’d found a costume that resembled the black gown worn by the girl in Shelley Broussard’s painting.

“No.” Jake didn’t agree with her choice. At all.

“I can’t possibly be mistaken for one of those creatures Tink saw. This is a good witch’s outfit,” Ashley said.

She stood on a little dais in the dressing room area, surrounded by mirrors. She was truly a beautiful witch. A jaunty black hat emphasized the gold in her hair. The raven-black color of the fabric enhanced the shimmering blue in her eyes.

There was no reason she shouldn’t wear the costume, except…

She could have been the girl in the painting.

“What did you choose?” she asked.

He’d found a costume that was some kind of a movie rip-off. Black cape and black mask.

No one would know who he was.

“Ashley, I’m just in costume. While that…”

“I think it’s important. Somehow.”

The clerk approached, offering assistance. The costumes could be rented, but they were ridiculously cheap so Ashley said they’d purchase them.

Jake was still unhappy. Angry, even.

He wouldn’t be having Ashley come to meet him here again, he determined.

They left the shop, heading to the parking lot he’d found to get the car. The streets were busy.