Hallow Be the Haunt (Krewe of Hunters #22.5)(38)



“And you’re absolutely dead.”

The closer he came, the greater the terror that filled her. She saw what he carried.

He hadn’t killed before. But he planned to kill now. He had an ice pick. If he was able to get in just one good blow…

Suddenly, the ghost of Shelley Broussard raced out, a cry of fury on her lips.

The man paused, blinking. As if fog had gotten in his eyes, as if he’d seen something but didn’t understand what.

He staggered, coming toward Ashley. She raised her brick and bashed him.

He caught her arm.

She screamed.

And even as the sound left her lips, Jake was there. Pulling the man from her, throwing him to the ground. And Jackson was behind Jake, ready to wrench him up and handcuff him.

But as she rushed into Jake’s arms, she dimly realized that Jackson wasn’t arresting him. Parks had arrived and was angrily reading Richard Showalter his rights.

“You nearly killed my man—a good man!” Parks roared.

“He killed Shelley,” Ashley said, staring at Jake. “He killed Shelley. Whether he drew the blade or not and— We have to get an ambulance. Jonathan Starling came out here and…”

“And you clocked him?” he asked, but pointed to Jackson, who was already helping a dazed Jonathan.

Jake was smiling, but his eyes were filled with concern, and she felt him shaking.

He loved her so much.

As she loved him.

“You do seem to like to clock the wrong people,” Jake said and tightened his hold. “What am I going to do with you? I have to keep you out of danger.”

“Well, you are marrying me, of course.”

“Not so sure that’s really going to help,” he teased.

And then he kissed her.





In the days that followed, the horror of what had been going on for weeks began to become clear.

Nick Nicholson had really just been a nice guy—trying to help artists. He hadn’t known that his wife started out having an affair with Richard Showalter—only to become so infatuated with him that she more or less became the mother for his cult of monsters recruited to kill monsters. He thought himself a genius. Use monsters at Halloween. Who would notice?

But Shelley Broussard could not be coerced, brainwashed, or convinced in any way. And with the rest of the women in the household killing, she had to play a part.

Or disappear.

Ashley spent time with Jonathan Starling and hoped he was really going to be all right.

He had seen or sensed something about Shelley. And the day after Halloween, when the cast came to help clean out and pick up their own belongings, she saw him in the cemetery. And she saw Shelley sitting next to him.

Then Shelley was gone.

Ashley went to talk to him. Tears streamed down his cheeks. “She told me I must move on,” he said. He looked at her. “I saw her. I really saw her.”

“I believe you. And I believe that she’s moved on now—and that means that you must, too. You must move on.”

They sat together for a while.

And then she went back to the house, where Frazier, Beth, Cliff, and Jake were all debating if they should wait, if Ashley was all right with what had happened.

“I’m getting married right here. In two weeks,” Ashley said. She saw Jake smile, and that was all she needed.

And, two weeks later, they were back.

The spiders were gone, along with the black draping, the ghosts, the demons, and all else that had been part of Halloween.

Flowers were everywhere.

The plantation had never looked more spectacular.

Most of the Krewe were in attendance. Jackson and Angela, and Whitney and Kat and Will and so many others.

It was splendid. Frazier was dignified, and he cried when he had to give a speech at the reception. She and Jake caught him in a sandwich hug, and she gave a speech back, thanking him for being the best grandparent ever.

And that night…

Well, the grounds thronged with Krewe. While the honeymoon beckoned come morning, for the night…

They would never find a place so safe to abandon all and make love.

And make love.

Again, and again, and again.

Even a lifetime might not be enough. Then again…

It seemed that love could last forever, far longer than a lifetime.

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