Page 9 of Investigation of a Quest

“Probably a side effect of the vampirism,” Eamon teased, and Bel leaned her head against his shoulder. He was right. She didn’t want to get into this here, and maybe it was the booze or the jump-scare adrenaline or the kitchen counter sex, but his confession didn’t feel like a fight. For the first time in months, the truth didn’t anger her. Maybe someone needed to scare the anxiety out of her more often.

“Oh my God! That was the most realistic thing I’ve ever seen,” a passing teenager said, the outburst ending their conversation. “I’m so freaked out.”

Bel’s ears pricked at the girl’s fear, and she couldn’t stop her curiosity since the public’s opinion might help her judge. “What freaked you out? The alien spaceship?” she asked.

“No.” The girl pointed to the last house at the end of the street. “That yard. I wanna puke. The decorations are so realistic.”

“That good?” Bel asked.

“That intense,” the teen said. “Too much for me.”

“Want to take a peek?” Eamon asked.

“Sure.” Bel downed her hard cider and smiled at the girl. “Thanks so much…. Oh, did you try the alien house?”

“Yeah,” she answered. “We’re going again right now.”

“Awesome.” Bel made a mental note to mark repeat customers on her judging notes, and then, hand in hand, she and Eamon ventured down the block.

“Decorations so convincing that teens are ready to vomit? I wonder why this house didn’t enter the contest,” he said as they wove through the colorful crowd.

“Maybe they didn’t want strangers in their home,” Bel said. “You wouldn’t want nosy townsfolk poking around the Reale Estate, would you?”

“Pure hell.” Eamon grimaced as a couple raced past them with a sobbing child.

“I can’t believe they would put something like that in their yard where children can see,” the mother cradling the hysterical girl hissed at her husband. “I saw the sheriff around here somewhere. We should file a complaint. Make them take that down.”

Bel’s gaze drifted over her shoulder as she watched the agitated family flee. The last haunted house they’d toured had a zombie drooling fake blood outside its front door for all to witness, so what about this lonely house would make the gruesome zombie child-friendly in comparison?

As if of one mind, she and Eamon picked up speed, his size parting the crowd like the Red Sea, but then without warning, he stopped short, yanking her to a halt.

“What—” Bel froze before the question could leave her mouth. The tension in his shoulders. His widening eyes. The subtle twitch of his nose as he scented the air. She recognized that reaction all too well.

“No…” She shook her head, her stomach falling through her body to hit the pavement. “No!” She bolted into a run, shoving startled trick-or-treaters out of her way until she skidded to a jarring halt on the lawn at the end of the street. The home was decorated with tasteful fall organics. Hay, leaves, pumpkins. Everything natural and elegant, save for the scarecrow hanging in the middle of the yard.

“No…” Bel clapped a hand over her mouth. She didn’t have Eamon’s sense of smell, but she knew death. She knew what rotting blood smelled like, and this scarecrow wasn’t just a lump of stuffed clothes. An all-too-lifelike man hung from the cross, straw and blood sticking out of his ragged wardrobe. His painted face sat below a pointed hat, and Bel’s fingers vibrated against her lips when she realized where the splattered blood staining his outfit had come from.

This scarecrow didn’t have a brain.

“Get everyone off the lawn, and someone find me the homeowners!” Griffin shouted as he jogged across the grass to join Bel just as she hung up the phone. The angry parents had found him, so he’d already been on his way when she called.

“Oh my god.” He stopped short when he registered the scarecrow wasn’t a decoration and whirled around, turning his back on the horror to escape the shock. He cursed, rubbing a hand over his mouth in disbelief, and fortifying himself, he turned to face the gore. He moved as close as he dared without disturbing the body and examined the wound in the dimness. Someone had cut the back of the victim’s head open and sucked his brain out, leaving most of the skull intact to keep its shape.

“Are you okay?” He gripped Bel’s arm, and she finally tore her gaze away from the empty skull.

“I…” She paused, waiting to experience the same horror that drowned her when Ruby East was crushed, but only the familiar dread of a crime scene settled in her belly. This was the death she was acquainted with. “Yeah.” She nodded. “It just surprised me. An accident and then a murder, because this is murder. It’s a little too Halloween even for this contest.”

“This is disgusting,” Griffin said. “In front of all these families. What kind of monster would kill someone at a party?”

“There’s no blood.” Bel pointed to the ground. “He wasn’t killed here, but it looks like he’s been here all night. He’s not…”

“Fresh,” Griffin finished for her. “A dead body in the middle of a family-friendly Halloween celebration. What the hell is going on? How come you didn’t notice this earlier?” He aimed the question at Eamon, and even though he whispered, the towering dhampir heard every word.

“There are too many scents here.” Eamon joined them before the body. “Fear mixing with food and stress sweat. It’s pungent. And plenty of kids have tripped and scraped their knees, so the scent of blood has been present all night.”

“Plus, this isn’t the murder site,” Bel added. “Whoever he was, this man stopped bleeding long before he arrived here. A kid’s freshly scraped knee would probably be enough to cover up this kill.”

“Oh my god!” a woman screamed behind them, and the trio whirled around to find Deputy Yates with a sudden armful.