Angel Lane (8 page)

He pulled out his cigar and pointed it at her with a George Burns smirk. “Don't be a stranger. You and your husband.”

“Thanks,” she said for no logical reason. She turned and fled home.

Sam was getting ready to run by the station when she got back. “So, did you get the skinny?”

“He's single,” she announced. That didn't quite sound right. “No wife.”

“No new neighbor to gossip with,” Sam teased. “Bummer.”

“Yeah, bummer,” she said. She'd probably better direct her random acts of kindness in a different direction.

 

 

 

 

I
t was six
P.M.
and the night was blacker than a witch's hat. Bare-branched tree skeletons clawed at the sky. Somewhere a dog howled.

Not that anyone noticed. At the annual Heart Lake Goblin Walk, even a banshee would have had a hard time making itself heard above the din of music, laughter, and childish squeals coming from the crowd prowling Lake Way and all its tributaries. Parents and grandparents escorted little princesses, superheroes, and skeletons on their hunt for treats while costumed shop owners stood outside their shops with giant bowls of candy and trinkets. Both the fire and police departments were manning booths, giving away stickers and flyers on fire safety.

“Aren't you so cute,” Emma cooed over a little princess who had stopped to dip into her witch's cauldron for a packet of
M&M's. “Did your mommy make your costume?” she asked, smiling at the woman holding the princess's hand. A potential fabric customer—she hoped she wasn't salivating too obviously.

“Her grandma in Oregon made it,” said the woman. “I don't have time to sew,” she added in a tone that implied sewing was only for people who didn't have a life.

Before Emma could think of a reply, the princess and her mother the queen vanished. They were replaced by a group of sugar-buzzed superheroes. One of them vacuumed up Emma's candy supply as though he were collecting food for his last meal. The others quickly followed suit. Neither of the two dads in charge of the group said anything. That was probably because they were too busy checking out a woman on the other side of the street in a Catwoman outfit to pay attention to what the kids were up to.

Oh, well, Emma decided. There was her good deed for the day. She wondered how Jamie was doing.

 

Valentine Square didn't have the mob that the shop owners one street up were facing, but they were getting a steady trickle. Just enough to make Jamie feel guilty every time she considered taking her Tootsie Rolls and packing it in.

“Are we having fun yet?” called Roxy Reynolds from her post in front of the card shop. She stood chatting with her assistant and Monique, the owner of Whisper, the lingerie shop, who was wrapped up like a mummy. Monique could barely move, but Jamie was willing to bet she was at least warm.

“Oh, yeah,” Jamie called back.

“If you think this is fun, you're whacked,” said Clarice, Jamie's part-time help, as she refilled the bowl. She had dyed her hair orange in honor of the holiday and was all dolled up with fake blood, her face painted corpse white. “Okay, that's the last of the candy. When it's gone, you're done. And speaking of done . . .”

“I know, I know,” said Jamie. “You can take off. Have fun in Seattle.”

Clarice grinned. “We will. Borg is sure to win the costume contest tonight. He's going as a chick magnet, with a big, shiny red magnet around his neck. It even glows in the dark. So do other parts of him,” she added with a smirk.

“TMI,” said Jamie, rolling her eyes. “Get out of here already.”

Clarice skipped off like a giant kid. Come to think of it, at barely twenty, that was what she was.

Jamie couldn't help smiling. Next to Christmas, this was the best night of the year for kids, both big and little. She used to love Halloween. She still did. It was the one night of the year when the monsters were pretend.

She greeted a well-rounded woman escorting two girls and a little boy wearing a Frankenstein mask who looked more like a beach ball with legs. All three kids carried king-sized pillowcases, which they had barely filled. She guessed they'd go on to raid Heart Lake Estates after doing downtown. Jamie offered her plate of fudge to the woman and the bowl of cheap candy to the kids. The beach ball dove right into the bowl.

The girls were no fools. They snatched the fudge. “That's good,” said one, and helped herself to another piece.

“Don't be a pig,” scolded the woman, who also took a second helping.

Hmmm. Oink, oink.
But pigs made good customers. “If you think that's good you'll have to come by sometime and try my truffles,” Jamie said.

“Do you give samples?” asked Miz Piggy.

Jamie suspected this woman could easily sample her right out of business. “Sometimes,” she said evasively.

“I'll have to come check them out,” the woman promised, and took a third piece of fudge. “Thanks.”

Maybe she should have just given the woman the whole plate and been done with it. Oh, well. What did she expect? She was offering free chocolate. Who could resist that?

A little ghost of wind swept under her gypsy skirt, raking her legs with icy fingers and making her shiver. If she'd known she was going to be so cold she'd have bought some long underwear. Thank God this ended at seven. She and Emma had a date with a bowl of candy corn, a scary movie (or so Emma claimed), and some drink called a Vampire's Kiss that sounded like it involved enough alcohol to stock a liquor store. Maybe they should have had the alcohol before the Goblin Walk. It would have helped her stay warm. She sneaked a look at her watch. Six o'clock. An hour left to go. Ugh.

Next time she checked her watch she still had forty-five minutes left to stand out in the cold. Time wasn't exactly flying. It wasn't even marching. It was just strolling by, taunting, “Neener, neener,” with each icy breeze that tickled her skin. She was so not doing this again. She didn't care if it was good for business. They didn't get as many people down here anyway.

She looked across the way. Roxy and Monique were packing it in, turning tail on the approaching stream of trick-or-treaters and ducking into their shops. Jade Forrester, who owned Jade's Jewels, hadn't even bothered to show. That left only her, and she didn't have the heart to close up. She sucked it up, pasted on a smile, and braced herself for the next wave that came at her in a wall of noise.

It was almost like some giant amoeba, she thought, just one big, noisy cloud of masks, robes, and reaching hands. The blob surrounded her. It took, squealed, and then moved off down the street, making her think of dragons parading through San Francisco's Chinatown on Chinese New Year. Somewhere toward the end of the tail, however, she distinguished a sound that wasn't happy. Crying.

She peered past a noisy clump of teenage boys trying to hide their age and size under bedsheets to see a wilted little fairy with chestnut curls dragging a plastic pumpkin full of candy and looking like she'd witnessed the end of the world.

Jamie left her candy bowl for the boys to raid and hurried to the little girl. “Sweetie, are you lost?” Of course she was. “Where's your mommy?” Well, duh. Like the kid would know?

“I want my grandpa,” the child sobbed.

Lost children weren't exactly Jamie's specialty, but she did know enough to call the cops. “Here,” she said, putting a hand to the child's back and propelling her toward the store. “Let's go see if we can find him.”

The little girl moved right along with her, which was good in a way, because Jamie could get her to safety and hang on to her. But this kind of cooperation made her wonder if the little girl's
parents had ever warned her against talking to strangers. “What's your name, sweetie?”

“M-M-Mandy,” the child sobbed. “I want my grandpa.”

“I know. We're going to find him. What's your grandpa's name?”

“Grandpa.”

That narrows it down
. Jamie unlocked the shop and brought Mandy the fairy inside, locking the door after them so no one would think she was open for business and come in. She quickly flipped on the light as Mandy's crying had gotten louder the second they entered the dark shop. She settled the child at one of the bistro tables, saying, “Now, I'll just get my phone and then we'll call and tell the police where you are so your grandpa can find you. Okay?”

The child didn't say anything, just slumped in her seat, clutched her pumpkin full of candy and cried.

This was like getting punked by gremlins. Jamie could barely take care of herself and now she had a lost child on her hands.

It's okay, she assured herself.
You're in Heart Lake now. Call for help
. She hurried to the back room and dug her cell phone out of her purse, calling over her shoulder, “Don't worry, Mandy. It'll be okay.” How long would it take for the cops to get here? What could she do in the meantime to keep Mandy the fairy from having a nervous breakdown? To keep herself from having one?

“Nine-one-one,” said an operator.

“I have a child,” Jamie blurted. “I mean I found a child. She's lost and her name is Mandy. We're at the Goblin Walk. Can you send someone to help?”

“Can you give me an address, ma'am?” asked the operator.

Oh, yeah, that.
“I'm in Valentine Square, in Heart Lake. The Chocolate Bar. How soon can someone get here?”

“Someone will be there in just a few minutes,” the operator assured her.

Just a few minutes felt like an eternity when you had a crying child on your hands. “I know,” Jamie said to Mandy. “Let's have something to eat while we're waiting for your grandpa. You want to come and choose a truffle?”

The crying downgraded to small sobs. Mandy slipped from her seat and walked tentatively over to the glass case where Jamie was standing.

Jamie knelt beside her. “We have a lot to choose from. Do you like chocolate?”

Mandy nodded solemnly, looking at her with big, brown eyes.

“Caramel. Do you like caramel?”

Another nod. The sobs were dying down, thank God.

“How about a chocolate caramel then?” Jamie suggested. She slipped around back of the counter, returning with a chocolate caramel for each of them. Mandy wasn't the only one who needed chocolate. “There you go.” She handed it over and the child took it and studied it. Maybe she'd been told not to take candy from strangers. Jamie took a bite of hers to prove it wasn't poisoned. “Mmm, good.” Except maybe she shouldn't be giving candy to Mandy the fairy.

Before she could suggest Mandy wait until her grandpa showed up, the child popped the entire goody into her mouth. In less than a second she was drooling chocolate. But she also wasn't crying.

Jamie felt pleased with herself. “Good stuff, huh?”

Mandy nodded and looked at her with a “what's next” expression.

Now what? “Are you thirsty? Would you like a drink of water?”

Mandy nodded.

So they had a drink of water. Now what? Where the hell were the cops?

“I'm a fairy,” Mandy announced.

Okay, she was feeling better. “You're a very pretty fairy,” said Jamie.
Why on earth wasn't your mom watching you?
“Do you know your address?”

“One-two-three Willow Road,” said the child.

“Good for you,” Jamie approved. At least they'd have some information to give the police. It would be enough to match Mandy the Fairy with her mother.

A sudden banging on the shop door made Jamie jump. The cops. Thank God.

But it wasn't cops. It was one cop.
The
cop, and he had people with him—a paunchy sixty-something man with shortly cropped gray hair and a princess a little older than the fairy, but with the same big eyes and brown curls.

As soon as Jamie opened the door, the princess pointed at Mandy and cried, “There she is!”

“Mandy. Thank God,” breathed the cop. He rushed to her, arms wide open. “Come here, baby!”

“Daddy!” The child jumped into his arms and he swept her up. “I had chocolate,” she told him.

“I can see that,” he said, taking a wipe at her chin, which looked like she'd painted it with chocolate syrup.

The older man fell onto the nearest chair. “I think I've aged twenty years.”

“You were supposed to hold Grandpa's hand,” scolded the princess. “Daddy was mad.”

“Not at you, baby,” said the cop. He walked over to Jamie, the other child tagging along at his side. Jamie was sure the floor was shaking with every heavy footfall. She could feel her heart rate stepping up. He looked like a super-sized Superman in a police uniform. “Thanks for keeping my daughter safe. We owe you.”

“For being a good citizen? No you don't.”

She only came up to his shoulder. With those big hands of his he could crush her head like a walnut. He smelled like the outdoors and aftershave, but something else, too. Could you smell testosterone?
Hic
. Oh, great. Not again.

“Well, you saved the day big-time,” he said.

“That's for sure,” said the older man from his chair. “My God, I've never been so scared in my life. One minute I had her and the next I didn't.”

“By the way, I'm Josh Armstrong,” said the cop, holding out a hand.

She took it and hers was immediately swallowed. But it was a gentle swallowing, and that was a surprise. “I'm . . . I guess you know.” She tried to hold in a hiccup and he tried not to smile.

“Can we go get more candy now?” asked the other child.

“No,” said her father firmly. “We're done for the night and Dad's got to get back to work.”

“And Grandpa's pooped,” added the older man, pushing off from his chair.

“But we didn't go to the toy store,” the princess protested, her voice full of disappointment.