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And there it is. The second confirmation. She didn’t do it.
“And she was so controlling,” she says as she rolls her eyes. “I’ve never met anyone so manipulative. The way she treated everyone around her like puppets. And here’s the part that never quite made sense. A couple of times, after too much champagne, she mentioned a daughter. Which was strange, considering everyone believed she’d never had children.”
I freeze.
“Her who?”
Fish gasps as she looks at Duchess. Did Clawdia have a daughter?
Duchess goes still in my arms. That’s the word! The phone call. You will never be my— Her amber eyes lift to mine. Daughter. She was screaming it at her daughter. And there was something else… Oh, I know! The envelope. I remember now. It was pale pink, and it had little hearts along the flap. It was the sort of stationery a young girl would use.
Miss Kitty’s favorite color is PINK! Sherlock barks. She’s the pinkest human at this whole festival!
Fish belts out a hearty meow. For once in your oafish life, you might actually be onto something.
Vampyra stops pacing and looks at me as if I’ve asked a stupid question. “Her daughter.”
“Clawdia didn’t have children.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Vampyra waves a hand dismissively. “That’s what I mean. As far as anyone knew, she never had children. But after a few drinks, she’d start talking about ‘my daughter’ as if everyone knew exactly who she meant. By morning, the subject was dead and buried. And trust me, you only made the mistake of asking about it once.”
My heart is pounding. “What do you mean?”
“She said something about working with her on a film or something.” Vampyra shrugs. “It was odd, almost as if she was bragging and hiding it at the same time. I figured it was some protégé she was grooming to take over her wicked empire or whatever.”
“Did she give you a name?”
Vampyra thinks for a moment, then shrugs again. “I don’t remember. I wasn’t really listening. Clawdia talked about herself constantly. I tuned most of it out.”
She runs a hand through her hair and sends her wig sideways. “Look, I’m far too frustrated for this. I need a stiff cocktail. One that will hopefully kill me.” She laughs at her own dark humor. “Are we done here?”
She doesn’t wait for an answer. Just stalks off back toward the rave, her purple-and-onyx costume billowing behind her as if she’s some kind of vengeful spirit.
I’m left standing there with far too much to think about.
Fish shakes her head at me. You’ve got that look in your eyes. You know who the killer is, don’t you, Bizzy?
I nod.
I do indeed.
Everything just clicked into place, and it’s wrapped in the pinkest, bubbliest, most deceptively innocent bow I have ever seen.
CHAPTER 19
Iweave my way back into the thick of the Beyond the Grave Rave, where the music is loud, the lights are flashing, and apparently personal space died sometime around sunset.
WELCOME TO THE BEYOND THE GRAVE RAVE!
THE SCREAM QUEENS SHOWCASE!
At least three hundred vampires, witches, zombies, ghosts, ghouls, and a few things I’m reasonably sure were invented after too many cocktails are packed beneath it.
The DJ has taken every Halloween song known to mankind and given it enough bass to wake the dead. Purple strobes sweep over the crowd. Fake fog curls around everyone’s ankles. Glowing cocktails in radioactive shades of green, orange, and purple are disappearing at an alarming rate.
It’s Halloween night in Spider Cove, and subtlety has left the building. The energy is electric, both chaotic and celebratory. And somewhere in this crowd lurks a killer.
Fish, Sherlock, and Duchess are following close behind me as I scan the crowd, looking for my one and only suspect.
