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The fog thickens around us, and the fountain’s green glow makes everything feel slightly unreal, like we’ve stepped into a different dimension where vampire authors and cursed doll heads make perfect sense. We charge admission to that dimension. In fact, season passes are available.

“This week has been something else,” Savvy says, adjusting her scarves. “I don’t think any of us knew what we were signing up for.”

“That’s the understatement of the century,” Eulla Bell agrees. “Though I have to say, I’ve heard that Belladonna would’ve eaten this mess up with a spoon. Apparently that woman treated chaos like it was a competitive sport.”

“She did love a good spectacle,” I say carefully.

“Spectacle, scandal, and stirring the pot.” Eulla Bell sighs. “Say what you will about the woman, but she knew how to make an entrance. And an exit, apparently.”

An exit involving the bar from an iron fence. I keep that observation to myself, mostly because Henrietta’s already doing enough talking for both of us.

Besides, there’s something sad in Eulla Bell’s voice. Not grief exactly, but maybe acknowledgment that someone who took up that much space is now just gone.

“The party is incredible though,” Savvy says, gesturing to the swirling crowd. “The caterer has flat outdone herself with the food, if I do say so myself. Have you tried those chocolate coffins?”

The caterer is her. Humility has never been on Savvy’s menu, and frankly, neither has restraint.

“Oh honey, I’ve had three of them already,” Eulla Bell says with a grin. “I’m callin’ a truce with calories till November. Halloween calories don’t count. That’s like countin’ raindrops in a thunderstorm.”

“Agreed,” I say. “Along with birthday calories, vacation calories, and any calories consumed while standing. Which is basically all of them since I tend to eat my meals like a fugitive.”

We all laugh, and the tension eases slightly.

Are they going to talk about the murder soon? Chip asks. Or are we just discussing desserts? Because I’m good with either.

Give her a minute, Fish says. Josie’s buttering her up.

I’m hoping somebody butters a biscuit. If nobody does in the next five minutes, I’m filing a complaint with the caterer. I hear she’s very approachable.

I take a breath, then go for it. “So I heard an interesting rumor.”

Eulla Bell’s smile tightens just a fraction. “Did you now?”

“It was something about a book review?” I keep my tone light and breezy, like I’m asking about the weather and not poking a stick into a murder-shaped hornet’s nest. “One that was written under a pseudonym?”

Her smile stays pinned in place, but there’s something harder underneath it now. “How did you hear about that?”

“I guess it’s a small industry, and they all happen to be here,” I say. “People talk.”

Savvy clears her throat. “Oh sugar, you know how these things go. Somebody tells somebody who tells somebody else, and before you know it, the whole henhouse is clucking.”

“Ain’t that the honest truth,” Eulla Bell says with a sigh. She adjusts Salem in her arms, and I can see her deciding whether to dodge or come clean. Finally, she seems to land on honesty. “Fine. Yes. Belladonna wrote a review of my last book under a fake name. Called my writing ‘more sugar than substance’ and mocked my Southern charm as stereotypes. The woman nearly killed my sales. My publisher was ready to drop me like a hot potato.”

Salem lets out a tiny huff. That’s a mighty fancy way of sayin’ she was fixin’ to wring Belladonna’s neck.

“Wow, that’s meaner than a rattlesnake in a mailbox,” Savvy says, and she sounds genuinely sympathetic.

“It was lower than a snake’s belly in a wagon rut,” Eulla Bell agrees, her accent thickening as the venom builds in her voice. “And when I figured out it was her? Oh honey, I confronted that woman at a conference six months ago. Told her sweet as pie that she’d get what’s coming to her, bless her heart.”

‘Bless her heart’ is Southern for ‘I will end you,’ Salem explains helpfully.

Noted, Fish says.

Chip looks up at me. That must be why we bless our food, because we’re about to end it.

I give a covert nod his way because it’s true.

“And you two have been arguing all week,” I point out to Eulla Bell. “People noticed it was getting heated.”