“Where else?” Eve sipped her cocoa. “Working late shift. At least with most everyone here for the parade, they should have a quiet night.” A wagon loaded with mammoth pumpkins rolled past. The cart was driven by a man wearing the flowing robes and coiffed white wig of an old-fashioned judge.
“Maybe they’ll get lucky and find Lyle.” Katie bit her lip. She and Sam planned to move home tomorrow, but it bothered her to know her ex was still out there. She also worried about the driver of the green van and whether he might return for a repeat visit. Ryan seemed to think she was in the clear. With Jerome out of the hospital and Parker still missing, Deputy Brown, or whoever he might be, would be focused solely on Indrid Cold and the Mothman.
“Let’s hope so.” Sarah tugged the collar of her coat closer.
Across the street, Katie caught sight of Jerome as he waved to her over a throng of teens with spiked fluorescent hair. The extravagant styles were most likely the work of her mom’s salon. Smiling, she waved back.
“I think he has a crush on you.” Eve elbowed her side.
“We’re just friends. He knows I’m with Ryan.”
“So I guess the Ouija board was right.” Sarah’s eyes danced with amusement. “You did get involved with him.”
Only several weeks old, the memory of that night seemed an eternity of the past. The board wasn’t something she liked to think about, but the eerie game had served a purpose. “It indicated I was going to be involved with someone named Cold.” She shivered, disturbed the prediction had come to pass. “In a roundabout way, through Parker’s message, I guess that came true.” She and Eve had told Sarah about Cold’s message.
Katie eyed her friend. “Did you ever find out who Q.M. is?”
Sarah exhaled a breath that sent her bangs fluffing from her forehead. A quartet of baton twirlers dressed as jesters danced past. “No luck. I wish the silly thing had spelled out L.E. instead.”
“L.E.?” Eve’s brows knit together.
“Lach Evening.” Sarah rubbed her gloved hands to circulate warmth. “I haven’t seen him tonight. I thought he’d want to watch the parade.”
Eve shook her head. “I don’t think he’s the frivolous type.”
“Or much for flirting.” Sarah sounded disappointed. “I tried to strike up a conversation with him and all he did was respond politely, then excuse himself. If he hadn’t been so courtly about the whole thing, I would have thought he was snubbing me.”
Katie laughed. There was something undeniably magnetic about Lach. Unquestionably attractive, his accent and the aura of mystery he projected had most of the women in town twittering like besotted hens. “I wouldn’t worry about Lach.” She leaned closer to Sarah. “You still have Q.M. waiting for you. You just have to figure out who he is.”
“Great. The love of my life is a phantom.” Sarah rubbed her nose. “I’m getting cold. I’m going inside for cider. Anyone want to join me?”
Katie glanced back to the street. “Jerome is headed over. I think I’ll stay here and say hello.”
“And that’s the unfairness of life.” Sarah tapped Katie’s arm. “You’ve got Ryan Flynn wrapped around your finger and Jerome following you around like a love-sick dog.” She chuckled lightly, her tone one of warm affection. “Lucky girl. The next time we consult a Ouija board, I’m going to insist on more than initials.”
Halloween night was a prime time for vandalism, especially with kids and teens high on the excitement of the annual parade. Point Pleasant police held jurisdiction over the town, while Caden had the broader scope of the TNT and Mason County. He still had every intention of visiting the old munitions site when 11:00 PM rolled around, but for now it was enough to vanish for a short time, doing a random patrol in his car. He’d already told Eve not to expect him until after midnight.
The parade had long passed the sheriff’s station and progressed farther down Main. A few streamers littered the sidewalks, pieces of orange crepe paper scattered with black confetti. Several people folded up lawn chairs or lingered in small groups, talking among themselves. Jack-o’-lanterns glowed in the windows of most local businesses, and farther down the road, the sound of music and applause floated on the air.
Caden rounded the corner of the sheriff’s office and headed for the parking lot. He walked briskly, hands in his pockets, head down as he concentrated on the night ahead. After everything Evening had told him, he had a thin chance of connecting with Cold. Even if Lach’s father wasn’t returning for Parker, there was still a connection between the two. Caden owed the kid whatever help he could offer.
He was almost to his patrol car when he heard footsteps behind him.
“Trick or treat.”
Caden pivoted, coming face-to-face with a leering skeletal head—a black mask overlaid with fluorescent white bones. The person who stood before him wore a form-fitting dark top and jeans.
Exhaling, he shook off the surprise. “Hey, the parade’s that way.” He pointed down the street. The moment he glanced aside, a blunt object cracked across his cheek, driving him to his knees. Instinctively, he groped for his revolver. The second blow battered the back of his neck. His gun was half out of the holster when he crumpled to the ground unconscious.
The first sensation Caden became aware of was the pull of dried blood on his split cheek, the taste of dirt in his mouth. Someone muttered in the background, a low string of words that ping-ponged inside his skull. Face down, he’d been deposited on bumpy ground, his arms stretched behind his back and bound at the wrists. It took a while for him to process his surroundings. The crude concave walls splattered with graffiti and the rusting containers that had once contained chemicals could only mean his captor had taken him to the TNT.
Lyle?
Whoever it was, the guy had kindled a fire. Shadows leaped and danced on the stone walls, distorted and exaggerated by the bowl-shaped dome of the igloo. The memory of a grinning skeleton mask floated up from the quagmire fogging Caden’s brain. He didn’t have to look to know his gun, cuffs, and radio were gone.