Page 10 of Haunted Horror on Halloween

“You have ever so kindly stayed on this mortal plain to be of help.” Angela assured him, grinning.

They reached the coffee shop and Trent headed right in, turning back to grin at them because he went through the open door when a man opened it, holding it for his wife.

Trent made it in just before her, amused that he could behave as if he were still his mortal self.

“There was something about her earlier,” Angela told Jackson.

“I agree,” Jackson said. “Okay, great. Stolen cars. All were dark blue sedans; I have the license plates. So do you, of course, if you want to pull up your email—”

“Already done. Oh, man. Bingo!” Angela said, pointing at a car down the lot. “There it is—stolen from Ivan Knoxville, second car reported as stolen. Which doesn’t mean all that much; you don’t report a stolen car until you realize that it’s been stolen.”

“Too true. So, Darrell Manderley might have had a third car waiting to whisk his victims away, or this was his destination—until he disappeared into the woods with them.”

“And I still think that the waitress—or cashier—is . . .” Angela began, frowning.

“Involved? How could even a man such as Darrell Manderley twist someone so very quickly?” Jackson asked.

“I don’t know. Here’s the thing with him. He obviously twisted someone at the federal prison, too, and our teams working that angle haven’t found out who yet. The mind is truly a dangerous playground,” Angela reminded him. “Make someone think they’re doing something right . . . Jackson, look how many people he got to offer themselves up as human sacrifices.”

“But he played that over time. Today, he can’t run his mind games with the benefit of time. Today, he wouldn’t be able to swoop in when he knew someone was in trouble, facing a terrible time . . . his ‘come with me; our way can help you.’”

“You have any idea on how we can prove she might be involved in some way?” Jackson asked, arching a curious brow.

“Well, we start by finding out if she saw Sadie come in—and we check the security for Sadie having been here,” Angela told him.

“And if she disappeared out the back. Man, that would be fast, though. Two women drugged and kidnapped in the early morning hours. What is his game this time? He couldn’t have done a brain-washing job on them. And that scares the hell out of me. I want to find these women before . . .”

“I know, I know!” Angela said quickly. “We still must be logical and work on discovering trails and evidence—”

“Angela, I know that!”

“Right, right, of course. But. So. Our good spirit friend Trent has had time to move in. Let’s get in there, too. Oh, you know, the owner seems to be legitimate. All these years this place has been in business, family-owned and operated. We just may need his help.”

“I doubt he can help much if he just sits in his office all day, but you never know. He’ll know more about our cagey cashier/waitress at the very least. Anyway . . . give me two seconds.”

He had his phone out and of course, he was calling for agents to get out with a crime scene unit and scent dogs to see what trail they might follow from the car.

“Ready? He asked.

“Ready, ready.”

Angela was even more convinced that there was something odd about Genie Appleby as they entered the shop.

When the woman saw them coming, she looked alarmed.

Not annoyed that she was going to be asked a lot of questions again.

Alarmed.

And it seemed obvious to Angela.

Genie Appleby didn’t want them there because she had something to hide.

Angela had a picture of their missing octogenarian on her phone. With a smile on her face, she approached the woman who stood at the register again.

“Please tell me you’re here for coffee,” Genie said.

“Sure. My partner and I would love coffee. Hm. You offer just about everything. I think we’ll have a couple of cappuccinos! Trying to stay awake. It’s proving to be a very—very—long day. Oh, and on that front, do you recognize this woman?”