Though Maggie Redmond expects to get a wannabe jack o' lantern when she drives her twin brothers to The Pumpkin Patch, she actually winds up with more. Brendon Fletcher, handsome grandson of the owner, can't take his eyes off her. Naturally she's thrilled when he calls her later, asking if he can tag along while she takes the boys trick or treating. Can this be true love? Maybe ... but only if they survive the plans a nefarious black cat has for them. |
Desperate to save Brendon, I jumped over the steps and charged around the house to the back. I found a large, screened-in porch with another locked door. It took precious seconds to find a stick and poke a hole in that rusty screen. I then widened the opening enough to fumble for the lock, which turned out to be the old hook and latch type. I flipped it up.
The hinges squeaked when I slipped through it and made my way past a table covered in pots with stuff growing in them. Several scents assaulted me as I tiptoed to the door--mint, basil, rosemary, elderberry. Though a sheer black curtain hung over the next door, I could make out movement in what looked like the kitchen. I thought I heard Simone's voice and a man's sharp reply. Was someone else in there besides Brendon? Heart hammering, I gently tried the knob. Locked, of course. Now what? If I broke out the glass, I'd be heard for sure. That might get my brothers in trouble or startle Simone into hasty action we'd all regret.
Remembering every slasher movie I'd ever avoided, I left the porch and walked far enough away from the house to get a view of the upper floors. I noticed roses climbing a lattice trellis to the right and how slanted the porch roof was. I wedged the toe of my shoe into one of the diamond-shaped openings and began to climb even though that thing had to be as old as the house. My dress proved to be as troublesome as it was ugly while I ascended. If it didn't hang on rusty nails or rose thorns, it caught in the buckle of my shoe. Worse, more than one criss-cross section of lattice gave way to my weight. Somehow I made it. But crawling onto the roof proved to be impossible until I took off the jacket and skinnied out of that stupid dress, which I gratefully dropped to the ground.
Dressed only in my bra, matching boy shorts, and Brendon's leather jacket, which thankfully covered most of my butt, I made my way across the shingles to a second-story window. My knees were bleeding by the time I got where I needed to be.
Loud music suddenly blared, possibly from the kitchen below. Nosferatu, big surprise. I thanked whatever lucky stars had survived the evil night for that loud noise and kicked the glass. Seconds later, I was in. The upstairs smelled horribly musty, and I couldn't see squat, but I crept through what appeared to be a bedroom into a hall. Staying out of sight, I approached the second floor banister and cautiously peered over it. I saw and heard nothing but Nosferatu's screaming guitars and the lead vocal's wail. What now? I wondered, as anxious to save Brendon as I was to avoid Simone and whoever assisted her.
Part of me wanted to laugh at what had to be the best Halloween prank ever. The other part, the part that stood half naked and trembling in the spookiest house on the planet, wanted to run like hell. But I refused to leave without my next boyfriend.
Just as the first song died, a loud yell made me jump a foot off the floor. A guy in pain.
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