Carol Shenold - Tali Cates 02 - Bloody Murder Read online

  The rivalry fascinated me in a contest with no cash prizes or scholarships, only a dinky plastic statue and some flowers. Speaking of flowers, they still hadn’t arrived. I put in a call to Blooms and More.

  “Yes, Tali. They’re on their way. Don’t let anything get into a bunch. I sent my daughter already. She should be there in a flash.”

  Her lazy kid, in a flash? I’m so sure. I held my tongue, thanked her and hung up, trying to think of an alternative if the roses wrapped in babies’ breath and tulle didn’t show up in time for the awards. The shop’s owner was as reliable as they come, but that daughter of hers had almost succeeded in single-handedly ruining one of my parties a couple of months before. Thank goodness we had a couple of hours to go yet. I found the trophies behind the hay bales and set them on the table in front of the hay bales.

  It was time to check the other dressing room, shoo away the well-meaning girls who all wanted to crowd into the tiny rooms and “help” their friend, little sister, big sister, cousin with makeup, hair, dress, confidence. It was time to make sure the kids coming off the stage had room to change, panic before their talent portion, cry after the talent because they messed up something or Mom yelled at them or someone in the audience laughed.

  The thing about the amphitheatre being outdoors and having such an open setup was the girls having very little security or privacy. The reserve officers had enough trouble just trying to figure out who was in the contest, who were relatives and who might be fair board members. How on earth could they figure out who to keep out?

  Then there was the noise factor. The midway was in full tilt with all the ride noises and music at top volume. Children yelled and screamed, horses whinnied, people talked. Those little girls with soft voices didn’t stand a chance of being heard.

  Modeling finished, a few fill-in acts from previous contests performed. We had dancers who couldn’t dance, singers who didn’t sing, one child trying to twirl a baton, several tumblers, and a clog dancer. However, the audience was easy. They cheered for their own kids and those of their neighbors.

  Members of the fair board drove by on their golf carts but didn’t stop, so either they had no problems with what was going on, or they were hot-footing it back to report to Laurel. As the last of the interim talent finished, the contestant talent began. Singers, dancers and budding gymnastic champs all wanted to win the title of Love County Princess. Stage moms stood behind the judges, coaching smiles out of scared little girls.

  I prayed nothing else would happen. I had the horrible feeling there was no way I could get through the contest without a disaster. It wasn’t as if I’d had a vision or anything, it was just my pessimistic nature getting the better of me. I could not have a complete event without a crisis of some kind.

  As dusk inched in, the midway lights came on. The kids changed for the awards. I was back on the phone to Blooms, ready to yell about the flowers when their car roared up to disgorge Marcie and flowers. She pranced up to the stage, making sure everyone had a .good view of her tight jeans. I arranged bouquets on the table with the trophies.

  Little girls fluttered out of the dressing rooms like agitated chicks. They gathered around the ends of the stage to giggle with each other. They were all back in their formal dresses, hair fixed, makeup reapplied.

  A commotion broke out on the right side of the stage. The audience gasped when Charlice’s mother, Theresa, staggered across the stage. She looked as if someone had blown her up like a balloon, like the purple girl in the Willie Wonka movie, when she turned into a blueberry. But Theresa wasn’t blue or funny. She mumbled, ran into the emcee, and weaved across to the opposite of the stage as if looking for something. All the girls stood with their mouths open, afraid to move, as if she would pop if anyone made a move or a sound.

  I went after her. “Theresa. Wait. Are you allergic to something? Do you have an Epi-pen? Does anyone have an Epi-pen?”

  She looked back at me, her eyes large and panicked.

  I yelled to the audience, “Call nine-one-one, someone, please. Tell them it looks like anaphylactic shock.” I grabbed hold of Theresa’s arm and pulled her toward a hay bale to sit down. “Can you tell me what happened? Are you allergic to something?”

  She shook her head, looking around as if she was going to do something, go somewhere but had forgotten what. Her breathing grew more labored, then she collapsed and slid sideways off the back of the bale, where she was hidden from the audience. I heard the ambulance but it would take a little time for them to offload a stretcher and navigate over to the spot where we were.

  I straightened out her legs and made sure she was covered. I saw Charlice on the opposite side of the stage but she had just come out of the dressing room and wasn’t aware of any crisis. After tilting back Theresa’s head, I prayed I wouldn’t have to start CPR. Her wheezing was worse than a few minutes earlier. She struggled to get up and then passed out. Her breathing suddenly improved a hair; possibly panic had made things worse.

  A shadow fell over Theresa’s face. I looked up to see Aiden, a funnel cake in one hand. He set the confection on the hay and turned Theresa’s head to one side, tilting it back at the same time. I took a gulp of air; I’d been holding my breath.

  EMT’s bustled up to assess Theresa. I restrained myself from kissing Aiden for showing up. My knees buckled and I started shaking. Why was I shaking? It wasn’t that cold. Must be shock, or nervousness, or something. Damn, we came close to having another dead body.

  Lyn moved down the row of little girls, calming them whether or not they wanted to be soothed. She glanced our way, no expression on her face. The emcee announced the various winners. Charlice placed in the top three with Lyn Peacock’s little girl winning the Princess trophy. Pleasure and something darker flickered across Lyn’s face and then was gone. Trick of the light, my imagination. Maybe having an assistant who had contestants in the family was a conflict of interest. Interesting how Theresa had a run-in with Lyn’s kid and immediately almost died from an allergic reaction. Was there any way that could be connected? Nah. I was really reaching. Lyn would have to be a witch to cause it, a wicked one at that.

  Feeling stronger now that the experts had arrived, I scrambled up and watched as the paramedics stabilized Theresa. Reserve officers formed a circle for privacy until Theresa was loaded onto the stretcher and moved back up the hill.

  I looked around for Aiden and the funnel cake. Aiden stood next to me. The funnel cake had been trampled to the ground. Tears welled up and threatened to spill over.

  Aiden put his hand on my shoulder. “What is it, Tali? Are you hurt? What’s wrong?

  I looked away. There was no way I’d admit to crying over spilled cake like some kid. “Nothing. Just a little worked up, I guess.”

  A throng of people crowded the stage. Families surrounded the winners, and those without trophies quickly made their way off the stage, up the hill, and toward home. Some with tears, some relieved the ordeal was over. Cherilyn lined up winners with their trophies and flowers for pictures. On Sunday the paper would be full of Princess, Duchess and Queen winners’ photos, ready to cut out and put in scrapbooks or on the front of refrigerators. Parents lined up to purchase videos in order to have a show-and-tell for family members who were not able to attend.

  I threaded my way through the people and over to the judges’ table to thank them and collect the score sheets. Some mothers were sure to insist on seeing the tally of their child’s scores to be certain their child was treated fairly. Given the chance, they would try to get their scores and others from the judges just in case someone had added wrong and their child was really the winner. I had to move fast, while all participants were still distracted by the hassle of finding costumes, taking off dresses, and fielding requests to ride rides or gorge on fair food.

  I made it just in time, shook hands all around, grabbed the notebook from the judges, and made my escape. I’d come back the next morning to ensure the area had been policed properly and nothing l
urked in dressing rooms or on tables. Lyn had agreed to set everything up for the Duchess judges. I clutched the notebook to my chest as if it were an archeological treasure and turned around to make my escape. I rammed Aiden straight in the gut with the notebook and bounced back. I gasped for air as the book dug into my midsection. He wasn’t the least bit distressed.

  I wasn’t certain if I was really short of breath because of the collision or because Aiden was close to me, holding both my shoulders.

  He kissed me. I kissed him back.

  Chapter Six

  Aiden broke off the kiss first. “Let’s go and find you some food, I don’t want you in tears again.”

  “Okay, but I need to check on the boys, remind them they have a curfew.” I held up the notebook. “I also have to do something safe with all of the state secrets, like drop them off at home.”

  “I’ll meet you at your house then, in about what, fifteen minutes, twenty?”

  I looked at my watch. “Make it thirty, considering I have to find the kids.”

  I drove home thinking about Theresa’s strange attack. I didn’t know she had major allergies, but then I wouldn’t, since we weren’t close. Still, it had been a strange evening with that incident on top of the dressing room vibes.

  I turned my thoughts to Aiden. My fierce attraction to him made little sense either but often attraction wasn’t logical. I didn’t really need another complication in my life again but having one like him couldn’t be all bad, might actually be fun. I could use a little fun—all work and no play and etc. I parked and got out.

  Someone yelled, more than one someone, and they sounded a lot like Sean and Rusty.

  “I told you. If we’re not here watching, we’ll never know.”

  “But, Rusty, if we are here watching he’ll see us, or Mom, or Mumsie. There’s no good hiding places around here, I tell you.”

  “What about a video camera? One of those little ones we could hide, tape to the side of the shed? We could shoot the mirror as it picked up every time he went into the house. Then we’d know about the reflection and his comings and going, which, I tell you, will be in the dark.”

  I stormed around to the side of the house. “What do you mean, shoot my mirror? You can’t shoot anything, do you hear me?” I saw the mirror with its carved and gold-flecked oval frame and gasped.

  “Sean, that’s your great-grandmother’s mirror from Ireland. Mumsie would have a stroke if she saw it propped against the side of the house for any passing armadillo or skunk to knock over. One of those feral cats under the deck could bump against it. Do you have no brains left in that skull of yours? Take it inside, now. Rusty, help him. What in Sam Hill did you think you were doing?”

  The boys grabbed opposite ends of the mirror and started carrying it toward the back of the house.

  “No,” I yelled. “In back, you have to climb onto the deck and maneuver through the sliding doors and around the dining room table. Take it in the front door.”

  They managed to get into the house without falling over anything in the dark or breaking the mirror. I made them help me re-hang it in the green room. “You boys have a seat at the dining room table. We have to talk and I don’t have much time.”

  When the house was originally built decades before, what was now the green room—named for the hideous green-flocked wallpaper Mumsie loved—had been a garage. The room was lower than the rest of the house, so to reach the level of the rest of the house, you had to climb three wide steps onto a landing.

  When Cass was little, the landing was the site of many theatre productions she and Mumsie would put on any time we visited. Sean, as a baby, had been roped into those talent-laden scripts as had any passing neighbors and kids. We had fun. But my dad died, I moved away and got married, fun ended. I pushed those thoughts away.

  From there, I passed through a door that led past the utility room and through another doorway into the den/dining room. The fireplace was on the right, facing the doorway was a sliding glass door, and to the left was the kitchen and the hall to the bedroom.

  I heard Sean and Rusty whispering.

  “You tell her, she’s your mother.”

  “I’m not telling her, she won’t believe a word of it.”

  “How can she not believe it? It’s true. Anyway, she believes in weird stuff, you told me.”

  “Just you wait. You’ll see what I mean.”

  I walked in. “What am I not going to believe?”

  Both boys looked at each other and shrugged.

  “I’ll make it easy for you. Why did you have a mirror outside? I know it wasn’t to fix your hair.”

  Sean spoke up first. “We wanted to see if he had a reflection because that’s how you can tell, and if we saw it, we could prove it.”

  “See what? Prove what? Are you speaking in a foreign language? Tell me what’s happening.”

  Sean fidgeted in the chair.

  Rusty decided to speak up first. He spoke as if he had serious news to impart, the kind upon which rested the fate of the world. “Mrs. C, I think your new neighbor is a vampire.”

  I opened then closed my mouth like a fish in the mouth of a predator.

  Rusty leaned forward, looking into my eyes. “No, listen. No one’s seen him in the daylight. He showed up one night, out of nowhere. He looks strange and acts suspicious. He yells at us if we come close.”

  “Yeah, Mom. And he threatened us just because we crossed his yard. I thought if we had the mirror and he didn’t have a reflection, then someone would believe us.”

  “Guys, you sound like a bad version of Lost Boys. Listen to yourselves. This is Love, Texas. We don’t have vampires, werewolves, witches, or any of the other movie monsters. You have to trust me on this. Furthermore, if he yells at you when you’re in his yard, stay off his property. Simple, huh?”

  “But we could be in real danger,” Sean pleaded. “You don’t want some creature of the night creeping around the edges of the property or on the property. We might not know it but he’d be there. And you know vampires can change into wolves and bats and hypnotize you with a glance.”

  “All right, enough. No more scary movies for you, even if it is close to Halloween. You’re mixing up real life with fantasy.”

  Sean looked down and muttered. “That’s what some people say about ghosts but we know better. We had Mag.”

  I ignored his reference to the persistent ghost who’d haunted us at the end of the summer, trying to get me to solve her murder. But ghosts were one thing, however, and bloodsucking neighbors were another. I simply wouldn’t have it, much less have the boys drive people away with their nonsense.

  I jumped at the knock on the door.

  “I’ll get it. I’ll get it.” Both boys jumped up to race for the door before I could stop them. This would be good.

  They crept back into the room looking back over their shoulders. Sean spoke first, in a loud whisper. “It’s him. I didn’t invite him in but he’s waiting anyway.”

  “Sean, you have better manners than that,” I scolded. “Aiden, come on in and have a seat, I’ll be right there.”

  “Mom, you didn’t invite him in! Now he can come in anytime he wants. What are you thinking?”

  “I’m going out for a little while. If I hear about you two causing any more trouble or bothering anyone, including your grandmother or our neighbors, you won’t like the results.”

  Sean looked stricken. “It’s after dark. Nighttime.”

  “Since that’s never been a problem before, I don’t think it will be now. Mumsie’s here. Remember, no scary movies. I don’t want your imagination stuffed with anything more than is in there now.”

  Sean and Rusty exchanged glances clearly indicating I was a fool, already under the spell of the undead and doomed to follow the lead of an evil creature.

  “Remember what I said. I want you in bed by midnight. Sorry, Aiden. I think the boys are on a sugar high. They probably inhaled enough cotton candy for the entire town. They ar
e a little out of control.”

  To my chagrin, I caught myself looking in the mirror on the landing to see if I could see him, and I did. He was a little out of focus but definitely there.

  I put my hand up as if to fix my hair. There was no way I’d ever admit to what I’d just done or to the comic book antics those two boys were up to.

  * * * *

  An hour later we were at a small Italian restaurant in Denison, eating one of the best steaks I’d had in a long time. Actually I was having a steak dinner while Aiden picked at a salad. In one corner of the country Italian room, two singers with acoustic guitars sang a mixture of western and pop songs. The girls’ close harmony filled the room, weaving around diners talking softly to each other. Wonderful scents of Italian spices, garlic, onions, created their magic. Candles flickered on each table to give a flattering golden glow to everything.

  He speared a piece of bacon off the top if his salad. “Sorry, I couldn’t help it. I caved for cotton candy and then a candy apple during the contest. I’m not any better than the kids. Now I’m stuffed. Not smart before inviting you to dinner.”

  “It’s okay,” I said around a mouth full of steak. “I’m enjoying it anyway. I hope the rare meat doesn’t gross you out. I love my steak rare. I don’t want a cool middle or for it to moo at me, but it’s so much more tender and flavorful this way, at least to me.”

  “Rare is absolutely the way to go”, he said, staring at the red juice on my plate.

  “Are you sure you won’t have some? I’ll share.”

  Aiden pulled his eyes away from my plate and grinned. “No thanks, I’ve had plenty, believe me.” When he smiled, I melted. He was so beautiful. Even though he was fair skinned, his dark hair looked just right—shoulder length, slightly wavy, shiny.

  Me, shallow? Yes.

  It was no wonder I was attracted to him. He was more gorgeous than some of the models on the covers of the romances Cass always read, because he didn’t have that plastic look. It wasn’t so much that I was drawn to him, but his magnetism overwhelmed me. I didn’t remember a physical allure as strong as this. I really didn’t know anything about the man except he showed up where I was and lived next door.