“She got here fifteen minutes ago, and has been telling anyone who would listen how awfully you and the school are treating her.” Kurt kept his voice low as Annette asked for the last meeting’s minutes to be read.
“Great.” Skye slumped down, trying to become invisible. “No wonder they’re all looking at me funny.”
Kurt leaned closer and whispered in her ear, “Pretend you don’t notice.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“Anyway, I was saving this place for you.”
“Me? Why?”
“Because I wanted you to sit next to me.”
“Oh.” Skye stopped herself from smoothing her hair. Had she even combed it since that morning? “Sorry, I still don’t have any gossip for you, so I can’t pay my debt yet.”
“I’m a patient guy. I can wait.” Kurt flashed his dimples. “Something will come up.”
Annette moved on to the treasurer’s report, and Skye asked Kurt, “What are you doing here, anyway?”
“Same as last time. Looking for a good story.”
“Here?” Skye shook her head. “You know the definition of a committee, don’t you?”
He shook his head.
“A group that keeps minutes and wastes hours.” Skye grinned. “You write about this stuff and you’ll put your readers to sleep.”
“I’m not interested in the meeting per se, but the conversations before and after are usually good for a paragraph or two.”
“Oh.” Did that mean he was going to write about what Mrs. Idell had said?
“No.” As he had the day he fixed her tire, he seemed to read her mind. “I’m not putting Zinnia Idell’s ravings in my column.”
“Thank you.” Skye tuned her attention back to the meeting.
Annette was now exhorting people to work on the haunted house. Skye sank lower in her chair, attempting to avoid eye contact with the woman, but Annette’s stare had zeroed in on her. Skye was frantically trying to think of a good reason she couldn’t volunteer when the home ec room’s door flew open, and Jackie hurried in.
Annette snapped, “You’re late, Ms. . . . ?”
“I’m Jackie Jennings, the new social worker.” Jackie smiled apologetically. “I’m so sorry; there was a crisis, and the kids come first.”
“Yes, of course they do. Take a seat, Ms. Jennings.” Annette waited as Jackie sat next to Mrs. Idell. “I was asking for volunteers to be a part of our haunted-house fund-raiser.”
Jackie’s hand shot into the air. “I’d love to help.”
“Super.” Annette turned to Evie Harrison and handed her a clipboard with a pen attached. “Here. Make yourself useful and send the sign-up sheet around.”
As Evie complied with an exaggerated smile, Skye said to Kurt, “I’m amazed that Evie agreed to be Annette’s assistant. I thought she’d quit the committee after Annette forced her out of the chairmanship.”
“I asked her about that, and Evie said she was doing it just in case Annette couldn’t fulfill her duties. Evie wanted to be positioned to take over.” Kurt raised his right eyebrow a fraction. “She still has hopes of getting her daughter elected prom queen, and I’m going to find out what her plan is.”
“Interesting.” Skye teased, “I’ll keep my eye on your column for breaking news.”
Annette had been watching Evie pass around the haunted-house sign-up sheet, and as woman after woman waved it away, she glared and said, “My own husband will be taking time from his busy dental practice to play the role of Frankenstein, and my lovely daughter will be sacrificing her dance lessons in order to be the zombie cheerleader captain.”
Skye was surprised. Dylan Paine was her dentist, but she hadn’t realized he was Annette’s husband. They seemed like an odd couple—he was cheerful and easygoing, and she was intense and never seemed satisfied.
Annette continued, “Our newest committee member, Jackie, is a wonderful example, and our initial volunteers have done a magnificent job building the haunted house. Now it’s time for the rest of you to do your parts. We need ticket sellers, sound and light techs, actors, and people to perform a myriad of other little tasks. I expect everyone here to step up to the plate and take one of these jobs.”
Skye scowled at the mention of Jackie’s name. What in the heck was she doing here, anyway?
Forty minutes later, after announcing that their next fund-raiser would be the Christmas House Walk, making a wish list of business donations, and bullying everyone into agreeing that the Promfest colors would be baby blue and silver, Annette ended the meeting.
As the crowd surged toward the door, Skye made her way to Jackie and tapped her on the shoulder. “Hi, I’m surprised to see you here. Usually only one faculty member attends this type of committee meeting.”
“Uh . . .” Jackie blinked. “Well . . . Homer told me you hated this assignment, and, uh, I said I’d do it.”
“He didn’t mention that to me when I saw him right before coming here.”
“Oh.” Jackie edged backward. “Maybe I misunderstood. But I can’t back out now.”
“Sure you can.”
“I’m not going to.”
“Suit yourself.” Skye shrugged, walked away, and joined the line of people trying to exit.
Kurt materialized by Skye’s side, his thigh and arm brushing hers. “So that’s the new social worker everyone’s talking about.”
“That’s her.” Skye felt an unwelcome sizzle from his touch. “What are they saying about her?”
“She seems to have made quite an impression in a short time. People think she’s charming. They say she’s ready to do anything she can for you.” Kurt craned his neck. “What’s the holdup over there?”
Skye peeked around the group in front of them. “Annette is checking everyone against some list before they’re allowed to leave.”
“Good thing I’m not in a hurry.” A mischievous gleam lit his denim blue eyes.
“Yes. You should circulate.” Skye kept her gaze focused on the woman in front of her. “I’ll bet you’d overhear a lot of good gossip.”
“The only thing everyone’s talking about is what a pain in the butt Annette is being about Promfest. Everything has to be her way or the highway.” He gave Skye a sexy little grin. “But thanks for looking out for me. I kind of thought you didn’t approve of my writing, but maybe my delightful personality has won you over.”
“That must be it.” Skye attempted to infuse her words with sarcasm, but felt her cheeks flame. She looked away and was relieved to see that only one person stood between her and the exit.
“So, what are you doing after—”
Skye stepped up to the door, and Annette’s voice cut off whatever Kurt had been about to say. “Ms. Denison, I see you haven’t signed up to help with A Ghoul’s Night Out. You were doubtlessly distracted by the
Skye narrowed her eyes. What was Annette implying? “Well, I . . . uh . . . that is—”
“It’s probably an oversight,” Annette cooed. “After all, considering how magnanimous your colleague Jackie is being with her time, I’m sure you’ll want to be equally generous.”
“Super.” Annette smiled, revealing pointy canines. “Here’s the sheet.”
At the thought of being inside a haunted house, Skye’s heart raced and her pulse pounded. She took a deep breath and told herself it would be fine. She’d just make sure she signed up for something outside the actual building. She peered at the list. Nearly all the jobs had been taken. The only places with blanks were under “Cast.” Her options were either a witch or Countess Dracula.
She knew she’d never survive being closed up in a casket—the one time she’d hidden in a real one, she’d nearly hyperventilated—which left being a witch. Her pen hesitated above the blank line. Did she really have to do this? Then she recalled Homer praising Jackie:
Skye shook her head. She was being ridiculous. It had been twenty-eight years since her bad experience in a haunted house. As she often told the kids who complained about something that had happened long ago, it was time to get over it. She was too old to be afraid of things that went bump in the night. Taking a firm grip on the pen,
