Hallow Be the Haunt (Krewe of Hunters #22.5)(7)
“Jonathan Starling is the actor who works here,” Beth said. “You’ll meet him in a minute. We only open Wednesday through Saturday nights—but we’ve been paying our actors the same as they would be getting if they were working a full-time gig. We’ve been voted one of the best scare attractions in the area.”
“That’s great.”
“And we’re doing very, very well financially,” Beth said. Then frowned, looking at Ashley. “You okay?”
“Sure.”
“It is pretty ghastly,” Beth said, glancing around. “But it’s what people want.” She shrugged. “And it does bring in the money.”
“Of course.”
“Want to see the gingerbread house?”
Ashley tried to focus on the odd comment. “We have a gingerbread house?”
“Yep—just like the one from good old Hansel and Gretel.”
“Um, cool.”
“It’s in the old kitchen… We’ve got time. Come on. As you know, we always do the haunted hayride thing, and we have some setups out in the old slave quarters. But I think the two features here are the scariest.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Depends on what you’re afraid of.”
Ashley followed Beth out to the old kitchen. It had been painted in shades of beige and tan that gave the illusion it was actually made out of gingerbread. Dotted with candy around the windows, it looked completely realistic. It even smelled of gingerbread.
“We’re giving out cookies on the porch at tour’s end this year,” Beth said. “Along with iced tea. No alcohol… A few years back, your granddad’s old chum Herman from Natchez was running a haunted house and people were drinking quite a bit. One girl got scared and socked a scare actor. Poor guy ended up in the hospital. After that, your granddad says iced tea—and that’s it.”
“It’s kind of dangerous for the scare actors, huh?” Ashley said.
“I like being the hostess on the porch,” Beth said. “No danger there—other than if a cookie freak were to go crazy, but… Anyway, inside.” She proudly threw open the door to the “house.”
It had once been the outdoor kitchen—designed so that in case a fire should start, the kitchen could burn without the main house going down in a pile of ash as well. Donegal now had a nice, modern kitchen inside, but the old kitchen outdoors had been an integral part of the plantation in the old days, and as such was important historically and architecturally.
The hearth took up the entire back wall. There was a giant cauldron set over the center where the fire would burn.
A comfortable bed and a few chairs were set up on one side of the room.
On the other, there were…cages. Some were filled with mannequins. The others, Ashley realized, would be filled with actors.
“The wicked witch wins?” Ashley asked.
Beth laughed. “No, she’s here with her sisters. Our visitors are menaced by them—from a distance. Then one is allowed to set the children free. And one lucky person gets to push Aria—the head witch—into that stove. It empties into a small shed in the back, where she screams and cackles as she bakes. The actress is Lavinia Carole. She’s from Biloxi—you’re going to love her. We take people in groups of twenty, so they all get their own, slightly unique, experience.”
“You all have really taken it a step further this time.”
“You don’t mind?”
Ashley laughed. “I’m thrilled. It’s all wonderful. We do the books together, so, just like you, I’m thrilled.”
Beth nodded, hiding a smile. “As you know, we own most of the decorations. Just in case you want them for the wedding.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I see that the cast of actors seems to be arriving. We can head for the stables.”
“Sounds good. I have to say hello to the horses too. Nellie, Jeff, Varina, all of them. I miss them so much.”
Being afraid of horses, Beth waited for her while she paid her respects. The horse master, Cliff, always saw to it that each animal was given plenty of attention, though Ashley had a special relationship with Varina, who was considered hers. But going through the stables, she showered some attention on each of the twelve horses the plantation kept.
The animals always made her feel good. They were so solid and real—and normal.
She wondered why she was so worried about normal.
But she knew.
The bizarre and eerie trappings on the house didn’t bother her at all. Nor did the artistry of the cemetery or her family’s tomb, or the tombs and graves of those who had lived and died at Donegal.
She felt haunted.
By her dream.
“Hey, time’s a wasting,” Beth called to her.
“Onward to the meeting,” Ashley replied, and they headed to the office together.
Jake met with Detective Parks on Broad Street.
Parks was a lean man of medium height with slightly graying hair and eyes that matched the color to a T. He shook hands with Jake, appearing genuinely glad to see him as they went to an empty conference room. Sitting down, he told Jake, “I happen to have met your Jackson Crow a few years back. Nasty business with a serial killer taking off on a ship. I was just one of a task force. Thing is, I don’t think my main people wanted to call in the FBI.”