Page 34 of Haunted Horror on Halloween

“We’ve got this! You and Jackson chill!” Bruce told her.

She smiled. The Krewe and the cops and rangers and all had done a great job; she hadn’t known until they burst out into the clearing that they were that close.

But then, of course, her concentration had been on Manderley, on finding out just how many people he had taken, and still . . .

Somehow, the law enforcement groups had gotten what appeared to be more than a dozen EMTs into the area and they were working together and it was true.

She truly wasn’t needed.

Except for one thing and Jackson beat her to it.

“Bruce!” he cried. “There’s a young man named Gil running around out there somewhere and he’s been convinced his family will die horrible and burn—”

“Already got him, Jackson!” He arched a brow and grinned, well aware that the EMTs and cops wouldn’t understand they’d been helped by the spirit of a dead man. “We, uh, had a little help. He’s good; alive and being taken to the local station. Seriously. You and Angela did the hard work; let us earn our keep!”

Angela smiled, but her smile faded quickly.

Eight victims. Eight bleeding victims.

And Manderley.

Yes, Manderley, groaning—and swearing—where he lay on the ground.

Because Jackson hadn’t taken him down with a kill shot.

Angela looked at him as others hurried to find and help the victims, arching a brow.

And, of course, he knew what her question might be.

“I always remember,” he told her quietly. “We are not judge and jury. We are law enforcement. And he just might suffer more knowing that this time, he will die in prison.”

“He’ll face federal and state charges,” Angela reminded him. “This time, he might get the death penalty.”

“He might. It’s just not for us to decide.”

“Right.”

“You know, you might look really good in that costume,” he told her.

“We’re law enforcement—so I can’t hit you!” she told him.

Naturally, he grinned.

They were partners in life just as they were partners in their vocation.

He crossed the distance between them and pulled her into his arms. While the clean-up rushed around them, he just held her.

“I’m really, really glad we had parties for the kids already,” he told her.

And she had to agree.

“Still, we do have kids. Trick or treating!” she told him.

“I think we’ve had the trick part already.”

She smiled at him. “Yes, in history, there are those who can twist anything. But, seriously and really, you remember! The ‘treat’ thing started because in centuries long ago, bonfires were lit, yes, things happened, but it was also a time when the poor could go to their neighbors, they’d be given food and help. There’s something good in everything, there have always been good people—”

“Always a sun to break through a blood red mist?” he asked.