"And I appreciate it.”
"I could lose my job.”
"You’re not going to lose your job. You didn't give us any names. We took them. I thought you were leaving the country anyway.”
"I am. But that kind of impropriety reflects negatively on a career. There's no guaranteeing that my new employers wouldn't terminate my position if they found out about such a breach of student confidentiality.”
"Your secret’s safe with us,” I teased.
“This is no joke.”
"I get it. You’re pissed off. I'm sorry. I'm just trying to keep more people from getting hurt. That's all.”
She sighed. "I understand.”
"Come on out. Let me buy you a drink. You got anything better to do?"
31
"Face it. She's not coming," JD said as we hung out at Sand Bar, waiting for the costume contest to begin.
"Care to wager on that?"
Jack grinned. "You're on. How much?"
"Name it.”
"Hundred bucks?”
We shook hands.
"She’ll be here," I said, trying to sound confident, though I had my doubts.
The rain had finally stopped, and the clouds parted. The moon peeked through, almost fully ripe. The stars twinkled overhead. The bar was packed. After being cooped up last night, revelers were ready to get out and blow off steam.
The MC finally took the stage and belted into the microphone. "Are you ready to howl at the moon!"
The audience cheered.
"I can't hear you. Are you ready to howl at the moon!"
The statement was met with howls and cheers, along with guttural barks and growls. Plenty of werewolves mingled through the crowd. Some costumes were little more than a rubber mask. Others were full-on werewolf suits with lifelike hair and animatronics worthy of a Hollywood movie.
"Competing for $10,000 in cash, I'm proud to present the inaugural Hounds of Hell costume contest. Thanks to our sponsors, the Coconut Key Costume Company, the Halloween Factory, Scream Key Haunted House, and the Fright Time Horror Convention. Please be sure to visit all of those before you leave the island.” He paused and looked over the crowd. "Now, without any further adieu, let's get this party started!”
More barks and howls filled the club.
The DJ queued up a familiar spooky Halloween song from a pop icon in the ’80s, and the MC announced the first contestant. "Please welcome to the stage the Terrible Travis Turner!”
The crowd went wild as Travis took the stage. In a latex mask, wearing street clothes, he sauntered around, beer in hand, dancing like an idiot. Not a serious contestant.
People loved it, but he didn’t have a shot at winning. He’d probably gotten on stage as part of a dare.
It wasn't long before he pulled a buxom blonde on the stage. They started performing lewd simulated acts, doggy style, which drew more howls from the audience and probably upped his chances of placing in the finals.
Preoccupied with the stage, I didn't notice Taryn as she weaved through the crowd. She pulled up beside me and grabbed my arm. "There you are. I've been looking everywhere for you.”
With a smile, I said, "I've been here the whole time.”