Page 74 of Hallow Hill at Halloween: Part One

“Don’t say it.” He held up his hand. “Bad luck.”

“Oh. Well. In that case, thank you for stopping me. Anyway, are you lacking for business. Do you have extra time on your hands?” A brainstorm hit me. “I could do a little bit for Rita Rules. That would be sure to bring you business.”

He looked confused. “What is Rita Rules?”

While castigating myself for being an idiot, I said, “It’s just some online thing.”

He cocked his head to the side. “I wouldn’t say lacking because…”

“It’s bad luck?”

“Exactly.”

“But?”

“Well, if it wouldn’t be trouble? I get a lot of business from tourists from first of April through July, but things are slow in the darker months and…”

“And what?”

Braden looked me squarely in the face. “I love my work and like to stay busy.”

“Let’s fix that!”

His red locks shook agreeably as he nodded.

Drinks had just been delivered to Esme and I when Jarvis announced dinner.

“Dinner is served!” John David repeated, sounding every bit as victorious as William the Conqueror at the Battle of Hastings.

He’d come a long way from the day he stood silent and motionless in my store without a clue how to interact with his neighbors.

As usual, Lily’s flowers were worth the price of a ticket. Her centerpiece was an uninterrupted snake of tree fern and the darkest red roses nature had to offer. At each bend of the garland was a silver candelabrum with seven sticks holding two-inch white tapers. Someone had been considerate enough to keep both the floral arrangement and candles low enough so that everyone seated had a clear view of the entire party.

My experience with candles was confined to Thanksgiving and Christmas, but that was enough for me to know that tapers don’t come in that size. Somebody, behind the scenes, but hopefully well paid, had spent much of a day cutting candle stalks.

I stopped Lily on the way in to be seated. “You outdid yourself. The flowers are spectacular.”

“Thank you.” She literally beamed in the way fairies can glow like fireflies.

“Did you dye all these roses?”

“Oh no. They’re Black Baccara. Quite unusual.”

“I’ll say.” She looked confused. “That means I agree completely.”

“Oh.” Her smile returned. “John David had them flown in.”

“Wow. Money to burn.” She giggled. “But we get to be the beneficiaries. Lucky us.”

The names on the place cards were handwritten in black calligraphy with a small red teardrop at the end. Even though it was small, it was eye-catching. Frankly, I had mixed feelings about that, but looking around, I could see that no one else was alarmed. Why would they be? I was the only one present who was potential prey, or so I thought.

Esme and I were seated at the center of the table across from each other. I hadn’t thought to advise John David that Keir and Kagan were delayed, which meant we would both be sitting next to empty chairs.

I hadn’t seen any unknown faces in the drawing room, but a quick survey of diners confirmed that there’d be no actors pretending to be old friends of John David. Excellent. Draw a line through anxiety number two.

I set my Manhattan glass next to the place card with my name on it and took a seat just as Olivia arrived to sit on the other side of the empty chair next to me. She smiled in a way that said she knew she looked like a movie star and was going to savor every second of it. Good for her.

We had all been served a first course of cold oyster bisque that looked and smelled delicious. I had spoon in hand, ready to dig in, when I realized someone had slipped into the seat next to me.

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