Chapter 7
It didn’t take long for word to get around that Jasper and I were headed out to the Magic Castle.
After a long day of helping guests, helping Jordy set out enough pumpkins around the inn to qualify us as a pumpkin patch, helping Macy pick out a sleazy dress to wear tonight via enough text messages to pen a wardrobe opus, and helping Georgie and Juni find the phone numbers they misplaced of those hotties from Minty’s security detail—the latter of which nearly cost me my sanity—we’ve all finally made the trek down to Edison and stand in front of a building with an old-world façade with the words Magic Castle glowing in neon purple high in the sky. Well, all with the exception of Jasper—he isn’t here just yet. He’s running late at the office, so it’s just Macy, Juni, Georgie, and me for now. A motley crew if ever there was one.
Macy tugs down her electric blue dress.
“Macy”—Juni marvels as she takes in my sister—“I don’t know how you did it, but that dress somehow manages to show off more than a two-piece bikini.”
“True as Gospel,” I counter as I tug my coat over me tightly. The air is perfectly chilled for this fall evening, and it’s moments like this I miss those warm summer nights.
Georgie honks out a laugh. “That’s her first trick of the night.”
“Hear that, Mace?” A laugh bubbles from me as well. “Georgie thinks you’re about to turn tricks. I guess technically that makes you a lady of the night.”
“You bet I am.” Macy takes the potshot in stride. “I’ve got not one but two dates waiting for me in there.”
“I’d ask questions,” I say. “But honestly, I don’t think I want answers.”
Macy butts her arm to mine. “Well, I’m gonna tell you anyway. I’ve got Gio from that fancy dress shop in there, and that guy I met the day the inn decided to eat another soul.”
A hard groan comes from me. “Macy, please do not go around telling people that the inn eats souls. That’s a terrible analogy.”
“But it’s true,” Juni harps.
Juniper Moonbeam looks as if she’s missing a few stitches. She’s clad in red—red tight knit sweater that cuts off below her boobs, red tight leather skirt that in some parts of the world qualifies as a belt, and red high heels with the words bite me written on the soles—the word bite being on the right foot and the word me on the left. That way she gets attention from just about everyone coming and going.
“Come on, girls”— Georgie irons out the front of her black and white kaftan with her hands—“enough talk about that haunted inn that needs to be fed a real live human at least once a month in hopes to keep the darkness at bay. We’ve got men in there waiting to be conquered. I’ve got a double date, too, you know. Both Bad Boy and Lumpy Pants emailed me to let me know they’d be here.”
Juni shakes her head. “They texted you. It’s a text, Mother. And it’s not wholesome for you to have two dates. People at the bingo hall are going to talk.”
Georgie huffs, “Well, if you saw all those cartoon pictures of vegetables they send me, you’d realize exactly how wholesome they are. Besides, it’s entirely up to me to further corrupt them.” She winks over at her daughter. “Let’s give those girls at the bingo hall something to talk about.”
Juni and Georgie head on in, and Macy gives my arm a tug.
“Let’s go, Bizzy.” She tries to pull me in.
“Fine,” I say. “I was just hoping Jasper would have shown up by now. He’s working late on Julian Fletcher’s investigation, but he said he should be here before the show starts.”
“We’ve still got half an hour,” she says, navigating us inside a dimly lit foyer with illuminated posters up along the walls that advertise their various performers. The thick carpeting dampers the din of voices from the crowd, and the air is cool and smells like popcorn.
A poster with a dark-haired man with bushy brows and demanding eyes has me catching my breath.
“There he is,” I whisper as we take a few steps over to it. Julian Fletcher’s head is larger-than-life as he sheds a knowing grin. He’s holding a fuzzy white rabbit by the ears as he seemingly pulls it out of a top hat. Below that in bright yellow letters it reads in memory of one of the greats. “So sad.”
“Oh, look.” Macy perks up as she points to a poster to our left. “There’s my date.”
She leads us over to the next illuminated picture where Archie Alden hikes a brow in his forehead, adding a mystical appeal to his countenance. The crook on his nose is heavily pronounced and that slight curve of his lips gives him a wicked appeal.
“Isn’t he hot, Biz?” She gives my arm a squeeze. “He said he’s reserved a table for us right up front in what’s known as the fun zone.”
“The fun zone?” I groan at the thought. “Is it too late for me to say I don’t want to have any fun? Especially not the kind of fun that demands you step on stage and be a part of the act. I hate participating. I’m much more content as an observer in life.”
“Good Lord, Bizzy. It’s a wonder you’ve tricked Jasper into marrying you. Hey? Maybe you’re the greatest magician of them all. Hopefully, he’ll never find out you’re a killjoy. I’ll keep your secret if you keep mine. Archie doesn’t know I’m meeting Gio here, too.”
I avert my eyes at the thought. “Let the good times roll,” I say as we head on into the venue.
The main room is a large spacious theater. It’s icy inside and holds the scent of perfume mixing with cologne, mixing with French fries and pizza. It’s equally dimly lit, with small round tables set out, covered in purple tablecloths, and nearly every
