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Shouting and screaming ensue, and then something crashes.

Women’s voices are raised in what sounds like battle.

“What now?” Jasper asks.

We head over with Fish and Duchess still tucked in my arms, and the second I get a good look at what’s happening, I stop cold.

It’s absolute chaos.

Macy’s merchandise table is surrounded by at least ten women in various stages of costume collapse, and apparently the candles have become a limited natural resource.

A vampire is trying to pry one out of a witch’s hands. A zombie and a sexy cat are locked in a tug-of-war over the last jar on the table. And a werewolf has three candles tucked under each arm while reaching for a seventh.

So much for sharing with the pack.

Someone’s wig is on the ground.

Jordy is trying to maintain order and failing spectacularly.

“Macy!” I shout over the noise and chaos, gripping Fish and Duchess tighter so they don’t get crushed. “What is going on?”

Hoomans will fight over anything if you put it in a jar, Fish mewls.

Duchess surveys the melee. I’ve seen raccoons conduct themselves with more dignity in a trash can.

Sherlock perks up. Should I bite someone? I feel like this situation could use some biting.

No, Fish says. We just finished solving one crime. We are not committing the next one.

Macy gives a wicked grin despite the chaos. “I announced this was the last of my limited-edition Haunted Hearts collection!”

Money is changing hands every which way. Women are throwing cash at Macy like she’s a stripper and they’re making it rain.

I glance at the table and spot a giant poster that makes an outlandish claim, and I gasp.

“GUARANTEED to bewitch the hottest vampires, werewolves, and creatures of the night—or your money back!” I read out loud, incredulous.

Mom and Georgie trot over.

Mom leans closer and spots a second sign. “Light this candle and find your eternal soulmate by midnight—GUARANTEED or FULL REFUND!” She reads it with complete disbelief.

We all turn to look at Macy, just waiting for an explanation.

My saucy sister gives a little shrug. “What can I say? I sell candles, not ethics.”

Another ten candles sell on impact.

“You’re going to be a haunted saleswoman if these women don’t land themselves a monster by the end of the night,” I’m quick to tell her. And I mean it.

“Please.” Macy rolls her eyes. “Nobody’s asking for a refund. They’d have to walk in here and admit a candle couldn’t get them a date. Shame is the backbone of my return policy.”

A woman slaps forty dollars into Macy’s hand, snatches up three candles, and bolts for the dance floor.

Apparently she’s planning on finding her soulmate in bulk.

The “Monster Mash” suddenly blares over the speakers, and everyone screams with delight.

The dance floor fills up instantly. People rush to shake and quake, costumes are flying, and everyone is singing along to the classic Halloween anthem.