Instinct

Howl-O-Ween By Alex Erickson

MY VAN NO LONGER LOOKED LIKE MY VAN.

“I…it…” I turned to my husband, Manny, for help…

“I don’t know, Liz,” he said, vainly trying to hide his grin. “I think it suits you.”

The van, which once had the name of my rescue, Furever Pets, sprayed across the side, now looked like something out of a cartoon. Literally. As in, a well-known cartoon involving a dog who really loved his snacks.

“It’s not painted on,” my son, Ben, said. He was practically dancing with excitement. Even into his twenties, his childlike glee had yet to dissipate. “Once this is over, you can peel the wrap right off. It’ll look just like it used to.”

“I guess, but…”

“It’s for a good cause,” Manny reminded me. “And, really, I kind of like it.”

I sighed. “All right. But I’m not dressing up like one of the gang.”

Ben sighed dramatically and then sprinted for the house. “Hey, Amelia! We’re a go!”

My daughter, who was likely in her room, blasting her music through her earbuds, didn’t reply for obvious reasons.

“It’ll be all right, Liz.” Manny put an arm around me. “Do you think I’ll look good as a blond? I’m thinking you might, but I’m not so sure about me.”

I elbowed him in the gut, causing him to back away, hands up in surrender. He chuckled as he returned to the house to get dressed for the party. Across the street, my neighbor, Joanne, shook her head and went back into her house.

She’s probably thinking the Dentons have gone insane. Standing there, looking at my poor van, I couldn’t say I disagreed.

I headed inside to get ready myself. Tonight’s event was for a good cause, so I couldn’t be too mad at Ben for desecrating my van. The Howl-O-Ween event was held every Halloween at Jon Luckett’s farm. It raised money for shelter pets, while also promoting the neediest of animals in the hopes of finding them their furever homes.

I didn’t know a lot about Jon, but knew his reputation well enough. I’d helped out on other events, but he was always too busy to interact with us mere mortals. This year, I hoped to become more involved, but to do that, I needed to talk to Jon directly. He probably wouldn’t know me to see me, especially considering the event was a costumed one, and yet I planned on talking to him anyway.

Manny was in the master bathroom getting dressed by the time I was upstairs in the bedroom. I quickly threw on my outfit and stepped out into the hall. Manny had tried more than once to get me to agree to dress up, but I wanted no part of it. I was going to this thing to work, and I couldn’t do that with some outlandish outfit getting in my way.

“Really, Mom?” Ben asked with a frown as he looked me up and down. He was wearing a blond wig, a white shirt, and a neckerchief. “Can you get any more boring?”

“What’s wrong with this?” I was wearing jeans and a Furever Pets shirt, which proudly displayed our slogan, Purrfectly Defective, on the back.

“It’s not a costume.”

“It is!” I smiled. “I’m going as myself.”

Ben rolled his eyes in perfect imitation of his sister, who’d come out of her bedroom wearing a purple dress and a red wig.

“He’s right, you know?” she said. “Boring. I have another wig, an orange sweater, and some glasses you could use if you want.”

“Come on, Mom, it’ll be fun.”

I was about to respond when Manny joined us in the hall, wearing a green shirt and a goofy grin. “Not you, too,” I groaned. His dark hair was a mess atop his head, and he’d used what looked to be my eyeliner to dot his chin with stubble. This was going to be a long night.

Despite my family’s insistence I change, I refused to budge. I led the way downstairs, and paused to pet Wheels, the family cat, on the way out the door. She purred, butted her head against my leg, and then rolled away, her useless back legs tucked gently into her harness. I took her affection as approval for my attire.

We piled into the van a few minutes later. Manny drove, leaving me to fend off Amelia, who was sitting behind me, insisting I change before we got there. She’d brought the spare costume, just in case I changed my mind about dressing up.

I wouldn’t.

The sky had taken on a burnt orange hue that was perfect for this time of year. It was quickly fading to black.

“Did you talk to Lisa?” Manny asked. “She left you a message.”

“I did. She’s not doing great.”

Lisa Edmonds had lost her husband and golden retriever six months ago, and still had yet to recover. I’d tried to find her a rescue that would lift her spirts, but none of the dogs or cats I’d taken in seemed right for her. I was afraid she would slip away if things didn’t change. At seventy-six, her heart could only break so many times.

“She needs someone.” Manny slowed and turned onto a street just outside of Grey Falls where houses were few and far between. It was half-pothole. He navigated the road as best he could, but it was still a bumpy ride.

Lights lit up the road ahead. The Luckett farm was a sprawling chunk of flat land that currently sported a corn maze, a haunted barn for the kids, and a haunted house for braver adults. Skeletons with glowing eyes, pumpkin-headed scarecrows, and zombified hands lined the road, pointing the way to our destination. Cars already filled the field being used as a parking lot.

“Courtney’s here,” Manny said, pointing out the pink van with Pets Luv Us on the side. No Mystery Machine wrap for her.

“So are a lot of people.” Which, I hoped, meant our paths wouldn’t cross. Courtney and I had a tense relationship, thanks to her insistence her rescue and my own couldn’t coexist, and I didn’t want her dislike of me to ruin the evening.

Manny parked the van, and we climbed out. I wanted to point out that no other vehicles were decorated but decided it would be petty of me. I could save that for later, once I made it through the evening.

A scream from somewhere ahead caused me to start. Laughter followed the scream, even as another shout joined the first. I could smell a fire somewhere but couldn’t see it yet. More than likely, s’mores were being served, right along with fresh from the fire hotdogs.

“I’m going to find Jon,” I said as we approached the house. Blue and orange lights flashed on the front porch, and a line of teenagers stood outside, waiting for their chance to enter. Inside, someone screamed.

“I see Ray,” Manny said, nodding toward his veterinarian co-worker, who was standing arm in arm with his wife, and my good friend, Holly Trudeau. “I’ll be over there if you need me.”

I nodded my assent. Both Amelia and Ben had already vanished, so in moments, I was a Denton alone, walking among vampires and ghosts and ghouls.

It felt like the entire town had turned out for the event, which could only be a good thing. To say the shelter was underfunded would be an understatement. Even in smaller towns like Grey Falls, the number of abandoned pets was astounding. Food, medical expenses, and all the other elements that went into keeping those animals happy, wasn’t cheap.

“Liz Denton.”

I stopped and turned at my name. “Detective Cavanaugh?”

The police detective chuckled. He was wearing a cowboy hat and chaps with two guns—toys, I hoped—at his waist. “I’m not on duty here, so call me Emmitt.”

“Emmitt,” I amended. “I’m surprised to see you here.” Though, why? I didn’t know.

Cavanaugh hooked his thumbs into his belt. “Wasn’t planning on coming but figured it might do me good to get out a bit.” He squinted up at the moon like he was staring into the sun. “Relax, you know?”

“Of course.” The last time Cavanaugh and I had spoken, it had involved a murder. Neither of us have ever been relaxed around the other, and for good reason.

“Well, I’d best let you go. Just wanted to say hi. You looked like you were on a mission.”

“I’m looking for Jon Luckett,” I said, scanning the crowd to no avail. Even if I did see, him, chances were good, with all the costumes, I wouldn’t know it.

“You looking to help out?” At my nod, he rubbed at his chin. “I think I saw him over near the fire about ten minutes ago. He was wearing a crown, so you can’t miss him.”

“That’d be Jon.” Jon Luckett didn’t just dress up like a king on Halloween; he acted like one. Daily.

“He seemed tense, and maybe a little pale, like he saw a ghost.” Cavanaugh paused. “Though, I guess that could go for all of us tonight.”

“That, it could.” I watched a pair of ghostly figures drift across the yard, toward a table filled with drinks. I noted Ben was there with a blond woman sporting what appeared to be a dragon on her shoulder. Knowing Ben, the flirting was in full swing.

“It was good to see you, Liz,” Cavanaugh said, drawing my eye back to him. “Stay out of trouble, all right?”

“I’ll try.”

He tipped his hat toward me and then sauntered off toward the drinks himself. Ben, much to my dismay, had slipped off with the blond dragon lady. That boy…

No, he’s old enough to make his own decisions. Though, I wished his decisions were sometimes a little more, I don’t know, mature.

I passed by the donations table on my way toward the fire and was happy to note the volunteers were busy. You couldn’t adopt a new pet here tonight, due to the noise. Jon had tried it a few years ago, but with the screaming and shouting, it scared the animals too badly, and that was counterproductive to finding them good homes. It was bad enough the horses and cows had to listen to it all night, but at least Jon kept them on the far end of the farm during the event.

The bonfire burned brightly, and as expected, a large group of people were standing around it, sticks poised over—and often, into—the flames. I could smell hotdogs and marshmallows, which caused my mouth to water. I hadn’t eaten before I’d left, and my stomach was letting me know it.

A quick scan of the group didn’t produce a crowned Jon Luckett, but I did see a couple I knew. They were wearing matching outfits that made them look like something out of a science fiction show. I slipped past a pair of zombies munching on burnt marshmallows to join them.

“Hey Duke. Sasha.” I nodded a greeting to each. “Have you seen Jon? I’d like to let him know I’m here and available to help out.”

Duke Billings was a large human being, as was his wife. And by big, I mean muscular, yet seeing them together now, I couldn’t help but think, cute. Both could bench press me, and yet, with the gentle way he had his arm around her, and how she was snuggling in close, they looked small, almost frail. Strange how that worked.

“Hi, Liz.” Duke glanced around the fire with a frown. “He was here a few minutes ago.”

“I saw him hurry off toward the horseshoes,” Sasha said, pulling Duke in closer, as if she thought my presence might drag him away from her. “That was about five minutes ago, I think.”

“Thanks.”

“Was there something you needed?” Duke asked. “Jon didn’t appear to be in a good mood, so I’d be careful around him.”

“I’m hoping to talk to him about increasing my role at these events,” I said. “I think I could really make a difference if given a little more responsibility.” Most years, all Jon had me do was carry around raffle tickets and point people to the donations table.

“I see.” Duke nodded as he ran a hand up and down his wife’s arm. “Well, good luck. He seemed distracted, and a little overwhelmed, so he might need you.”

I left them with a quick goodbye. I didn’t want to intrude on their time together any more than I already had. Like me, Duke had a history with Courtney, and that history often caused our paths to cross messily.

The horseshoes Sasha had referenced were not hanging above the barn door but were being used in an actual game of horseshoes. It was, of course, done up in Halloween themes, with the shoes themselves being orange and black, and the posts painted with green, glow-in-the-dark paint. A quick look at the players told me that Jon wasn’t there either.

I was about to ask a burly man, who’d just landed his horseshoes within touching distance for a modest score, when I saw the dog.

The retriever stood alone by the entrance of the corn maze, which had a rope drawn across it. A sign hung from the barrier, telling me the maze was off limits for thirty minutes, with no indication as to when that time had started. The dog’s eyes locked with mine, and then with a quiet chuff, it turned and ran into the maze.

Instinct took over. A dog shouldn’t be loose, especially here where kids were running around free, and so much else was going on. One bad spook, and someone might get bitten, or the dog could run off and go missing.

I ducked under the rope barrier and entered the corn maze a few seconds after the dog. I caught a glimpse of a wagging tail vanishing around the corner, and hurried after it.

“Here, doggie,” I called, wishing I had a name. “Don’t run.”

A few discarded cups lay at one intersection, and someone had lost a shoe, which made me wonder if there was a zombie out there somewhere in stockinged feet. The retriever stood at the end of the short aisle, barked once, and then took a hard left.

I followed after.

It would have been pitch black in the maze if it wasn’t for lights spaced throughout the corn. Still, it was gloomy, and my adrenaline spiked as I turned one corner to come face to face with one of Jon’s pumpkin-headed scarecrows. I stifled the urge to scream, just as the retriever bounded around another corner. She was leading me deeper into the maze, and I hoped I would be able to find my way out again.

I turned the corner, followed a wagging tail around another, and then came to an abrupt halt at what waited for me.

“Jon?” I asked, my voice coming out as a croaked whisper. A crown sat atop the man’s head, but I couldn’t see his face. He was sitting on the ground, back pressed up against the corn. His chin rested against his chest, and his right hand lay motionless in his lap. He didn’t so much as twitch at the sound of my voice. “Jon? Are you all right?”

The retriever sniffed at him, and then looked at me, as if asking me to do something.

“Jon… Hey…” I took a step toward him, just as the dog’s eyes jerked from me to something over my shoulder.

My entire body went cold, as if the temperature had dropped by a dozen degrees. I stopped in my tracks, and with a sense of growing dread, I turned to see what was lurking at my back.

Standing at the end of the aisle was a woman with fiery red hair. She was wearing a green dress with lace at the sleeves and throat. Her face was deathly pale, and when she raised a finger to point at me, I got the distinct impression that I’d just been marked.

“Who…?” My voice dried up as a rustle came from behind me. Terror kept me from looking, though I desperately wanted to. Was Jon rising from where he lay, intent on scaring the life from me? I wouldn’t put it past him, though it seemed odd considering what Duke had said about him being in a foul mood.

The retriever barked once, breaking me from my fear-induced paralysis. The sound must have been the dog moving. I took a quick step toward the pointing woman, not quite sure what I was going to do. The dog ran past me, and for a moment, I thought the retriever might be attacking her, but when she came to a stop at the woman’s side, and the women laid a hand on her head, I realized that the scary woman must be her owner.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know anyone was in here.”

I chanced a look back.

Jon Luckett was gone.

I blinked at the empty space, shocked by his sudden disappearance. I stared blankly at the space for a good couple of seconds, wondering how he’d snuck away so quickly, before turning back to ask the woman.

But like Jon Luckett, both the woman in green, and the golden retriever, were gone.

“Are you sure we’re going the right way?”

I paused at the intersection with a frown. Was I? It was hard to know for sure considering how quickly I’d come through the maze the first time. And now, with Detective Cavanaugh trailing behind me, I was feeling a smidge self-conscious.

“I think so,” I said, taking a left.

Light played over the corn, casting shadows that seemed to move in between the stalks. More than once, I swore I saw the golden retriever, only to find it to be a clump of dirt, or a stray shadow cast by the flashlight Cavanaugh was holding.

We’d been checking the corn maze ever since I’d discovered what had looked to be Jon Luckett’s body. He had yet to appear, alive or dead, nor had I seen hide or hair of the dog, or the ghostly woman, since.

“And you said he was dead?” Cavanaugh asked from behind me.

“I didn’t check his pulse or anything, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“You do know this is a Halloween event, right?”

I scowled at him. Of course, I knew.

“There’s likely a rational explanation to what you saw. It wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest if he was messing with you.”

“And how would he know I was coming?” I asked, more embarrassed than annoyed. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that Cavanaugh was right, and Jon Luckett’s apparent death was probably a joke played at my expense.

Cavanaugh didn’t have to answer. The noise his arm made as it brushed against the stalks was answer enough.

We reached another intersection and I stopped. “I think this was it.”

“You think?”

“It’s hard to say for sure, but this looks like it.” I pointed. “He was lying over there.”

Cavanaugh played his flashlight over the spot I’d indicated. It looked like any other dead end in the corn. “I don’t see anything.”

“And the woman was over here.” I walked over to where I’d seen the ghostly woman in green, making sure to peek around the corner there, just in case she was crouched on the other side, waiting to jump out at me.

No one was there.

Minutes passed with both Cavanaugh and I scouring the area for any sign of Jon or the woman. There was no blood, no torn cloth, or even tufts of dog fur. This section of the maze looked like every other section. I even parted the corn in the hopes of spotting something—a body, perhaps—hidden behind the stalks, but there was nothing.

Cavanaugh tipped back his hat to rub at his forehead. “Let’s head on back. Mr. Luckett is probably already mingling, having a laugh about his prank with the others.”

I doubted that, but what else could we do? There was nothing here to find. “All right.” I kicked a small rock, only to find it was connected to a larger stone beneath. My toe throbbed all the way back through the maze.

“There you are,” Manny said, joining us as we emerged. “I was wondering where you’d vanished off to. Hello, Detective.”

“Mr. Denton.” Cavanaugh touched the brim of his hat. “Liz. Let me know if you discover anything further. I’ll keep an eye out for Mr. Luckett.” With a parting nod, he walked off.

“Should I be worried?” Manny asked, watching him go.

“No.” I ran my fingers through my hair. I’d gotten dried husk in it while rooting around in the corn. I dropped the scraps onto the ground with a sigh. “It’s nothing.”

Manny smiled, leaned into me. “If you and the Detective are a thing…”

“Ew, stop.” I elbowed him, which only made him laugh. “I thought I saw something, and he was helping me look.” I paused, realizing that I might not have been the only one to see something amiss. “Have you seen a golden retriever around here somewhere? Or perhaps a woman in a green dress?”

“Can’t say that I have.” He glanced around like one of them might be lurking nearby. “Why?”

“No reason.” Or so I hoped. “What about Jon?”

Manny shrugged. “I doubt I’d recognize him if I saw him. We’ve never actually met.”

“Right.” And that was the thing; neither of us really knew him. So, why would he pull a prank on me, a virtual stranger?

That was a question I hoped Jon could answer when I finally did find him.

If I found him.

And if he’s alive.

“Have you checked out the house yet?” Manny asked, putting an arm around my waist. “It sounds like a fiendishly good time.” The laugh that followed sounded like something out of a kid’s cartoon, and nothing like the character he was currently dressed as.

“I haven’t.” And with the way my nerves were jumping, I wasn’t so sure it would be a good idea, but I didn’t want to be a spoilsport either. “We should give it a try. Maybe Jon will be inside.”

He removed his arm from my waist, only to crook his elbow. “Then, shall we?”

“You do know you look ridiculous.” I said it with a smile and took his arm anyway.

The line for the haunted house was short, so it didn’t take long before Manny and I were inside. It was your standard fare, with zombies reaching with crooked fingers, and oversized spiders leaping from darkened corners. On a normal night, I might have screamed and laughed like a lunatic, but not tonight. I kept seeing the woman in green, and Jon’s slouched body, in the back of my mind. It was hard to top that.

“You’re distracted,” Manny said, even as a fake rat skittered past, causing him to dance from foot to foot with a gasp, and then a laugh.

“Sorry,” I said as someone downstairs screamed. “I’m just thinking about Jon.”

“What happened in the corn?”

I started to answer when my eyes fell on the mantle. We were in the living room, which had a pair of skeletons frozen in the process of crawling out of the couch. A monstrous hand would reach out from underneath anytime anyone drew too close. I ignored them as I crossed the room.

“That’s it,” I said, picking up the framed photograph. “That’s the dog I saw.”

Manny joined me. “Jon has a dog?”

“I guess.” The golden retriever was sitting at his side. They were both mugging for the camera. Jon looked younger, and less antagonistic than the man I barely knew. The picture had to be at least ten years old. Based on the approximate age of the dog in the photo, that would put the golden at something like seventeen now.

That was awfully old for a dog, and the one I’d seen in the corn had looked far closer to the spry seven-year-old in the photo.

I put the photograph back where I’d found it. Another photograph sat beside the first. This one caused my blood to run cold.

My hand shook as I picked up the photo. A werewolf roared and leaped from a closet across the room just as I did, sending my adrenaline spiking. I dropped the photo, causing the glass to shatter at my feet.

“Are you all right?” Manny asked, and then he bent and carefully picked up the frame. He shook off the glass and used his shoe to brush the shards over to the fireplace where they’d be out of the way until someone could get a broom to clean it up.

“I’m fine. Just spooked.” I took the photo from him and removed it from the ruined frame. A closer look at the photo told me I hadn’t been seeing things. “It’s her.”

“Who?” Manny asked, moving to look over my shoulder.

I didn’t know how to explain, so I didn’t. Not yet anyway.

Jon Luckett was in the photo, as was the golden retriever. But this time, they weren’t alone. The woman I’d seen in the corn was with him, wearing the same green dress with the lace collar as I’d seen her in when she’d pointed at me.

But while Jon appeared to be ten years younger in the photograph, the woman and dog looked exactly same as they did today.

I hated to do it, but there was one person I knew of who knew Jon well enough they could tell me something about the woman and dog in the photo. Sure, I could ask around and hope I came across someone in the know, but right then, I just wanted answers.

Of course, to ask those questions, I’d have to find her.

Manny and I finished the haunted house quickly, and I left him with barely a word. My mind was racing as I tried to come up with a reason as to why the woman in the photo would look as if she hadn’t aged in ten years. I suppose it was possible she was lucky, and time had been especially kind to her. Some women were like that.

But I didn’t think so. Something else was going on here.

“Mom?” Amelia frowned. She was waiting in line for the haunted house. “You look spooked. Is it really that bad in there?”

“No. It’s something else.” I looked past her but didn’t spy my prey. “Do you happen to know where Courtney might be?”

Amelia made a face. “Why would you be looking for Courtney?”

Why indeed. “I have a question for her.” Another thought. “What about Chester? Is he around?”

Amelia shook her head. “No, he had some work that couldn’t wait.” Chester was the local PI and was Amelia’s boss and mentor. He, like Courtney, might have some insights into Jon’s life that might explain this whole thing.

“Well, if you see Courtney…” I trailed off as my eyes landed on the woman in question. “Never mind.”

I left Amelia, who shrugged and headed into the haunted house, and I joined my nemesis, Courtney Shaw. She was dressed in full pink, was wearing a tiara, and was currently holding court beside the drink table. As soon as she spotted me, her eyes narrowed.

“Liz.” She said my name like it was a curse that tasted as bad as it sounded.

“Courtney.”

She looked me up and down, her nose crinkling. “You wore that?”

I could ask you the same thing, was on the tip of my tongue, but I wasn’t there to fight. Courtney had always gotten on my nerves, but lately, she was intent on ruining me any way she could. I’d tried to smooth things over countless times, but to no avail.

“You’ve worked closely with Jon in the past, correct?” I asked, deciding to get right to the point.

“I have.” She puffed out her chest like it was a big accomplishment. “We’ve managed to find homes for hundreds of kittens and puppies who would have been homeless otherwise.”

“I’m glad for you.” I tried to keep the annoyance out of my voice. Kittens and puppies often found homes quickly and painlessly due to their cute and playful nature. It was the sick, the infirm, and the elderly that needed the assistance the most.

You know, my specialty.

“Why?” Courtney sounded genuinely curious.

I moved to stand beside her so we could talk privately and got a heavy whiff of her perfume. My chest immediately tried to lock up and I was forced to breathe through my mouth lest I suffocate.

“Do you know who this is?” I handed her the photo I’d taken from the living room.

Courtney took one look at it and then handed it back. “Of course, I do. That’s Jon.” Spoken like she was talking to a complete idiot.

“I know that. But what about the woman and dog? Is he married?”

Courtney gave me an incredulous look. “Married? No, Jon’s not married."

“Who is this in the photo then?”

“Well, that’s Goldie.” She pointed to the dog in the picture. Not the most original of names, but that was beside the point. “And that’s Annie.”

When Courtney didn’t explain further, I asked, “Annie is…?”

She rolled her eyes. “His wife.”

“I thought you said he wasn’t married?”

A dramatic sigh, followed by, “He isn’t now. Keep up, Liz. No wonder your business is such a joke.”

I let the insult slide, though my hand did bunch into a fist. Courtney was going to make this as difficult as possible, but I knew that going in.

“So, Jon was once married to this Annie?” I asked, though at this point, it was obvious. “Did they get a divorce?”

Courtney shook her head. “No.” She took the photo from me again and, this time, she took a longer look. “You know, I think this was taken a few weeks before Goldie died.”

“His dog died?” I asked, heart breaking at the thought of losing a pet, while, at the same time, alarm bells started clanging in my head.

“She did.” Courtney actually sounded sad about that, which shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did. “Goldie always had health issues. You would have liked her.” She glanced at me. “Still, it came on suddenly, caught them both by surprise.”

“And what happened to Annie?”

“Jon never liked letting Annie out of the house, which meant Goldie was her closest, if not only, companion. She kept her sane, I think.” She handed back the photo and turned away. “Annie never recovered after Goldie passed. The way I heard it, she died a few days later of a broken heart.”

Nothing moved in the corn. The sign still hung from the rope, barring entry, which meant… What exactly? I assumed Jon was the one who’d put it there. He must have entered the maze, thinking he’d seen his dead wife and dog, and then…?

I had no idea what to think. I didn’t believe in ghosts, whether they were human or animal. I mean, spirits, sure. If we’re talking about a feeling, or the residual affection that remained once a loved one had passed. But a legitimate, pale and creepy ghost?

There had to be some other explanation.

My family was still wandering the grounds, seeing ghosts of their own, but those were the sheets-with-eyeholes kind. I’d spotted Detective Cavanaugh on my way over to the corn maze, but what could I tell him? If I tried to explain my ghost theory, he’d laugh and tell me to get some sleep.

So, with a quick glance behind me to make sure I wasn’t being watched, I ducked under the rope barrier, and entered the corn maze.

I walked carefully, listening for any sound that might indicate I wasn’t alone, but it was hard. Screams and laughs and the general murmur of dozens of voices speaking at once made it almost impossible to discern much outside of my own passage. I checked every intersection, every dead end, yet, no matter how hard—or where—I looked, there was nothing to indicate Jon or his dead wife and dog had passed through.

Instead of turning back, however, I kept going. The maze had to spill out somewhere, didn’t it? Every step took me farther away from the entrance and the safety of the crowd. The hair on my arms was standing on end, and I was clenching my teeth against a shock I wasn’t sure would come.

More than once, I thought I saw eyes peering at me through the corn, or a light breeze would cause the stalks to sway and rustle, giving the impression of movement. I desperately regretted not dragging one of my kids along. Or perhaps Manny, though he’d tease me relentlessly for my nervousness. Anyone would do, really, just so long as I wasn’t alone in a place my hindbrain kept warning me was haunted.

It did make me wonder if there was more to Annie’s death than merely a broken heart. Ghosts didn’t manifest if the person—or, apparently, animal—died peacefully. Or did they? I only had stories and movies to go on here.

I took a step, and I was no longer surrounded by corn. The maze spilled out into a section of Jon’s farm not being used for the Howl-O-Ween event. A few barns were scattered across a field, and fence blocked off most of them. A roped off path led back around toward the front of the maze, and I imagined when it was open, someone would be back here to greet those who completed the journey.

But, for now, I was alone.

I tugged my phone from my back pocket, happy that I’d remembered to take it from the cup holder of my van where I always left it, and checked my bars. Two. It should be enough. I did a quick Google of both Jon and Annie’s names, but came up with little more than what Courtney had already told me, and a short article mentioning Annie’s death. Apparently, Jon had a brother who’d died when he was just a kid, and Annie had a sister named Lana who lived out of state. That wasn’t much to go on.

“I’m being stupid,” I muttered, shoving my phone back into my pocket. Jon was playing a prank; he had to be.

I had just started to wind my way back around to the front of the corn maze when I saw a glow coming from the equipment barn.

The glow was faint. My heart hitched as it moved, and a shape crossed from one end of the open doorway to the other.

A shape in a green dress.

My brain screamed at me to run, to flee back through the maze, but my feet were frozen to the spot. The glow persisted a good ten, twenty seconds, and then winked out.

I should get Detective Cavanaugh.

But if I did that, I knew I’d drag him all the way out here only to find nothing but an empty barn full of tractors and sharp objects. You know, the sort of stuff you’d find in a horror movie.

I took a step, but it wasn’t back toward the maze, nor was it on the path back around front.

Despite my trepidation, I was headed for the barn.

With every step, the night got that much darker. I pulled my phone back out of my pocket and flipped on the flashlight app, using it to light my way. There wasn’t much to see now that the glow was gone. No more shapes passed across the doorway, no sounds drew my attention. I felt alone out there, and the thought wasn’t as reassuring as it should have been.

“Hello?” I called as I neared the barn. And then, because I couldn’t help myself, “Annie?”

I didn’t expect an answer, figuring that whatever I’d seen was likely long gone. So, when someone stepped out of the barn, I couldn’t stop the scream that ripped from my throat like a live thing. I stumbled back and lost my grip on my phone. It fell to the ground and flipped so that the flashlight was pointing down, casting the area in gloom.

The woman was mostly as I remembered her from the corn maze, though she was diminished, as if she’d lost a foot of height, and about ten pounds around the hips. She was still pale, red-headed, and was wearing the same green dress I’d seen her in earlier. And she still scared the life out of me.

“Who are you?” I asked, too terrified to pick up my phone again. The woman wasn’t glowing, meaning I could only see her by moonlight. Did ghosts glow? I mean, she was glowing when I’d seen her in the barn, so why wasn’t she now? “What did you do with Jon?”

“You shouldn’t have come here.”

I jumped at the sound of the woman’s voice. There was no spectral quality to it, no airy gasp of words. She sounded, well, human.

“Who are you?” This time, my voice didn’t tremble.

“I didn’t bring her here. She came on her own.”

I was confused at first, but then realized the woman in green wasn’t addressing me.

She was looking past me.

I whirled around to find another woman wearing the same green dress. This was the one I’d seen in the maze, the one who’d pointed at me. At her side, the golden retriever stood, happily panting.

“What’s going on?” I asked. “You’re not Annie.”

“No,” the woman by the barn said, almost sadly. “I wish you wouldn’t have seen this. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.”

“Where’s Jon?” Quite suddenly, I was positive I didn’t want to know. These Annie’s weren’t ghosts, nor was the Goldie in front of me. But Jon Luckett? I didn’t think he was so lucky.

“We don’t have to,” the woman with the dog said. “She doesn’t know anything.”

“She saw us. We do.”

The woman by the barn tossed something aside. It took me a moment to realize it was her phone. It was likely the source of the glow I’d seen.

But none of that mattered anymore. In place of her phone, she was now holding a knife.

Protests flew into my head, but I didn’t bother uttering them. What good would saying, “You can’t do this,” or, “I won’t tell anyone” do? Those phrases didn’t even work in movies.

The woman with the knife took a step toward me. There was nowhere for me to go. And even if I did run, how far would I make it before one of them caught me? Or the dog? I was, for all intents and purposes, surrounded.

Still, I took a step back, toward the golden retriever and the woman there. As I did, the dog growled low in its throat.

“Get her under control, Cam.” Moonlight glinted off the knife as the woman took another step my way.

The growl grew deeper, more sinister. I was afraid to so much as twitch, lest the golden retriever leap at me.

“Why?” I asked instead. “Why do this?”

“Jon killed her.” The knife-wielder paused her advance to answer. “He had to pay for what he did to Annie.”

“We just wanted to scare him.” This from behind me. “We didn’t mean for him to die, not really.”

“He didn’t just keel over on his own,” I said. “You must have done something to him.”

“He deserved what he got.” Another step my way. “He killed Annie. Murdered her. He used Goldie as an excuse, and no one bothered to look too closely, but I know what happened.”

“You could have taken your concerns to the cops.” I shuffled back a step but stopped when the dog growled again.

“I tried. My sister…” The woman with the knife took a deep, trembling breath. “It doesn’t matter. Jon got what he deserved. He refused to admit it, but I know. I won’t allow my life to be ruined because you saw me here tonight.”

This time, when she took a step toward me, she raised her arm, knife in hand and poised to strike.

The growl that followed caused me to cry out, thinking I was going to go down under both the knife, and the weight of an angry canine.

Instead, a golden streak shot past me, toward the woman intent on killing me—Annie’s sister, Lana. She screamed as the dog latched onto her arm, and together, they went down.

I spun around, thinking the other false Annie would be coming at me, but she was just standing there, hand to her mouth, eyes wide.

So, instead, I went for my phone.

“Call her off!” Lana screamed. Her knife was on the ground at her side, and the golden retriever’s mouth was latched around her forearm, but even in the dark, I could tell she wasn’t biting hard enough to draw blood. “Cam! Make her stop!”

“I…I can’t.” I could hear tears in Cam’s voice. “And I don’t think I should. I don’t want anyone else to die because of us.”

Neither did I. I hit a button and brought the phone to my ear, keeping a close eye on both of the women and the dog. “Manny?” I asked, relieved when he answered on the first ring. “Find Detective Cavanaugh. There’s been a murder…”

Jon Luckett had thought he’d seen a ghost. Two of them, in fact. He’d followed what he believed to be his dead wife, as well as her beloved golden retriever, into the corn maze, and there, he’d met his end.

I got the story from Detective Cavanaugh later. Apparently, Annie’s sister, Lana, had recruited her best friend, Cam, to help prove Jon had murdered Annie. They bought a dog that looked like Annie’s old dog, and then they dressed up in her favorite dress, before they headed for the Howl-O-Ween event to enact the plan.

The whole incident was on Lana’s phone. She’d set it to record what she’d hoped would be a confession, but instead, it caught her growing anger at Jon’s denials, as well as her eventual breakdown, and subsequent act of murder.

It was hard to say what happened then. Both Lana and Cam had refused to talk about it, so all Cavanaugh had was the recording. All we know for sure was that Lana’s anger caused her to attack Jon, and choke him to death, all while Cam begged her to stop.

I kind of felt bad for Cam, since she was only at the party to help create the illusion of a ghost, not to participate in a murder. Her presence allowed “Annie” to disappear around one corner, and then appear somewhere else.

Jon had fallen for it, but he never did admit to killing his wife. Did that mean he was innocent of the crime? I’m not sure anyone will ever know for sure.

And then there was the golden retriever.

Lana and Cam might have gotten away with the murder if it had been just the two of them. Unfortunately for the women, the golden retriever named, not surprisingly, Goldie, had gone for help the moment she realized Jon was injured.

And I was the lucky one to spot her.

“You’re a good girl,” I told Goldie from the front seat of my van. She’d heard it at least a hundred times since I’d taken possession of her after Halloween night. She’d likely hear it a hundred more over the coming months, and hopefully, years.

Normally, I would have had someone else with me as I dropped Goldie off, but I wanted to do this one alone. She’d saved my life, and if Jon hadn’t had the life strangled out of him, if Lana would have let up, even just a little, she likely could have done the same for him. It was what she was trained to do; to be a rescue dog. It was something neither Lana nor Cam knew when they’d bought her.

I pulled into the driveway and got out with a mixture of sadness warring with joy. If I thought I could handle keeping a dog and a special needs cat, along with the constant stream of foster pets I took in, I might have kept her.

But for as much as I appreciated Goldie and wanted to keep her as my own, there was someone else who needed her more.

The front door opened just as I helped Goldie from the back of the van. The moment Lisa Edmonds saw her new pet, she dropped to her knees, eyes brimming with tears.

Goldie didn’t hesitate. She knew why she was there.

Carefully, but with a wagging tail, she went to Lisa and allowed the older woman to gather her into her arms. As Lisa wept, Goldie licked away her tears, causing Lisa to laugh the first heartfelt laugh she’d probably had since her husband and beloved dog had passed.

I slipped quietly away, not wanting to interfere in the moment. Seeing the joy in Lisa’s eyes was thanks enough, and I knew right then and there I’d done the right thing. Lisa had been saved from the sadness that had threatened to overwhelm her.

But the credit wasn’t really mine.

It was what Goldie was trained to do.

Alex Erickson is the author of both the Bookstore Café and the Furever Pets mysteries. As E.S. Moore, he’s written the Kat Redding urban fantasy series, which is currently out of print, but will hopefully rise again.

When not writing, he can be found gaming, listening to loud obnoxious music, and, well, that’s about it. He lives in Ohio with his wife and son. And while he doesn’t have a dog to save the day, his three cats would happily watch if something were to happen to him before going back to their naps.

You can find him online at: https://alexericksonbooks.com/ .