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Smart. “Send me the list.”

“Already in your email.” A dark chuckle followed. “Gave you some costume ideas.”

I bet he did.

The laughter didn’t last long. It never did. Alden was a stoic guy, laser-focused on his objective or whatever case occupied his mind. It made him an excellent boss since his attention to detail saved me the hassle and prevented a headache.

“The first one is tonight. They’re expecting you. Details in the email.”

“Got it.”

Alden cleared his throat. “Not gonna insult you by saying be careful, but this threat is a little different than our usual cases. Watch your back.”

“I know, Boss.”

“You need anything, you reach out. If not me, then Marin. She knows where you’ll be every night.”

Marin Wolfe handled logistics, and she had connections with all the vendors and clients, along with access to every vital piece of information I needed in the field, not to mention a brutal spreadsheet assassin.

“I’m good, Alden. But you’ll both know if and when I’m not.”

“That’s all I ask. Don’t silence Channel 1031.”

I resisted the urge to snicker. Alden knew me well. We always kept a chat open for the group of operatives working at EPG. Critical messages often popped up when one of us was in trouble. Only Alden, Marin, and the others used it. I tended to silence it when I wasn’t working. Didn’t want to be bombarded with shit when I wanted to wind down.

“I won’t.”

“Holding you to that, Beau. Check in later.”

He ended the call, and I swiped across the screen with my thumb to access my email. When I saw the attached images, I wanted to hurl my phone across the room. Alden sent several costume ideas: a snake charmer with the snake protruding from the crotch, a construction worker with a fake muscled chest and tight jean shorts, a green Power Ranger, and a giant bumble bee with a pelvic stinger.

And everyone said Alden North didn’t have a fucking sense of humor.

I ignored the costumes and opened the document he sent, reading through the information Marin gathered. Standard haunted house attraction on a large lot. Multiple buildings. One entrance and exit.

The number of employees would be an issue. Thirty to keep track of on my own. Not that I couldn’t handle it.

Although it was logical to add more security, most of the businesses couldn’t afford it. It ripped from their bottom line, and I understood the need for profit. What mattered was keeping people safe so they could enjoy their scares. That was where I came in. I should be the only person there with any weapons.

After news of the recent killings spread, most attractions were using metal detector wands and placing signage in clear sight. An inexpensive and effective option. Other businesses rented walkthrough detectors—a strong visual deterrent. Likely to convince anyone considering bringing a firearm or weapon into the venue to change their mind.

I opened my laptop and checked each location on Alden’s list. Nearly all the attractions were on private property, which meant they had the right to enforce a ban on firearms. A few on the list were located on county fairgrounds. The legal right to conceal and carry meant greater risk, since public property laws differed from private ones. I’d address the issue later when I arrived at those venues.

Blood Moon Manor was the first stop on my list. I didn’t have shit for a costume, but after all the thirst-trap videos I’d had the unfortunate luck to find invading my social media lately, I figured I could throw something together from my closet. Found a tattered flannel with holes in the sleeves and ripped them off at the shoulders, leaving my arms bare and my tattoos exposed once I pulled it on. Black tactical pants, black boots, and a Ghostface mask my cousin Rex sent me last year as a joke completed the look.

I tucked my sidearm behind my back and added extra gear into the numerous pockets, including my knives. I owned a machete and figured I could blend in even if it wasn’t a fake. At a glance, I wouldn’t look any different from the staff. Tonight, we’d all be dressed up to promote scares.

I left an hour before the haunted house opened to the public.

Greg, the manager, greeted me as I arrived. “Hey, man. You the security for tonight?”

“Hi.” I stuck out my hand. “Beau Coleman. Equinox Protective Group.”

He gave it a firm shake. “I’m hoping our haunted house isn’t enough temptation, but glad to have you with us.”

“Agreed. Can you give me a tour? I want to check out the property before it gets dark.”

“Sure.”