Hallow Be the Haunt (Krewe of Hunters #22.5)(29)

“And what about Richard Showalter? Is he being protected? Do we even know that the clowns were really after him?”

“No,” Jake told her. “But don’t worry. We’re keeping him protected.”

“NOPD and the cops are sharing the responsibility of watching out for him,” Detective Parks added.

Jackson reached over and touched Ashley’s hand. “I know this is all a mess. For now, we have Jude hanging out with Showalter. The three of us want to go back to the plantation with you. They’re setting up for tonight, right? So this man who was bothering Shelley—this Jonathan Starling—will be there?”

“Oh, yes, along with goblins—and witches. We have our own witches. Three of them,” Ashley said dryly.

“Three witches?” Jake said.

“Yes. The old kitchen is a gingerbread house—and there are three witches in it. They have a clever setup. One of the witches ends up shoved into an oven, which is really just a little back room that allows her to exit to the grounds. When one group is finished, she pops back in so that it can all be repeated with the next one. We have that, and the smokehouse, and the haunted hayride.” She hesitated. “The haunted smokehouse—where Jonathan is working—is really something. Body pieces, heads on shelves… It’s just great.” She ended with a whisper.

It was Halloween.

Halloween was great in New Orleans.

Great at Donegal Plantation.

Chills, thrills, and fantasy.

But now it would all be tainted.

With very real murders.

“Thursday night,” Jackson murmured. “And Halloween on Tuesday.”

“You think they’re gearing up for something big?” Jake asked him.

Jackson shrugged. “They’ve been at this awhile—if our theories are correct. And they didn’t make any mistakes. Until they killed Shelley. And left a witness.”

“You okay?” Jake asked Ashley.

She nodded.

“Did you…”

“Feel anything from touching her?” she whispered, glancing at Detective Parks.

He just looked back at her, curious.

She shook her head. “But…at the morgue… The way you showed how she was taken. I think that was right. I think that she was worried about something happening, but that she didn’t think she was in danger herself.”

“I believe…but what is right is right, and what is wrong…is very wrong,” Jake murmured and then spoke to the room. “I’d like to give this a go. Ashley, Jackson, and I will head back and pretend that we’re paying attention to what’s happening at Donegal because it’s Ashley’s home. We’ll speak casually with this man—Jonathan Starling. And I’d like to meet the rest of the scare actors out there, too. Especially the witches. Then, after we’ve had a chance to be casual, we might be able to cause some interesting reactions to any questions regarding Shelley Broussard.”

It was agreed. Jake, Jackson, and Ashley headed out. She was pensive all the while.

“What?” Jake asked her.

“I don’t understand.” She glanced at Jackson, and he knew that she would speak more freely now.

While there was plenty of speculation about the Krewe, none of its members ever admitted to talking to the dead. And, in a way, it was better that they didn’t.

The dead could help.

But the Krewe also needed help from the living.

“There was…something,” she whispered.

“In the morgue?”

“I couldn’t really feel her. I didn’t sense her moving around or even see her. But I could tell that she was still here. Does that make sense? And I keep seeing her on Bourbon Street. In my dreams. She’s walking toward me. And there’s something behind me. Something black and malignant.” She shuddered.

Halloween. Only five nights away now.

Jake wondered why he felt that if they could just make it through Halloween, everything would be all right.

Jackson was quiet. He had taken the back seat, allowing Ashley the front, while Jake drove.

“Jackson?” Jake asked.

“Who knows, Ashley?” Jackson said. “We never really have answers. Maybe you met her somewhere years ago, brushed by her in the street. Maybe she came out to Donegal Plantation with a school group or something. But somehow, I believe, she’s a very lost, scared, and desperate ghost. And so she’s coming to you in your dreams. For help.”

“Maybe we should stage something,” Jake said thoughtfully.

“Stage something?” Ashley asked. “Like what? We already have some staged scenes going on—pretty gruesome stuff. What do you mean exactly?”

“I’m not sure yet—after we meet your scare cast, I may have a better idea of what is swirling around in my head,” Jake told her.

He met Jackson’s eyes in the rearview mirror.

Jackson, he thought, was thinking along similar lines.





It had to be the art studio people who were evil, Ashley thought. Not someone connected to Donegal Plantation.

Beth was great at hiring people. She would have checked out backgrounds on anyone she brought onto the property. And her grandfather was no fool. No one was ever hired without Beth, Frazier, and Cliff all agreeing that they were right for the job.