Death by Pumpkin Spice by Alex Erickson Page B

wearing that yummy suit. He looked like he’d come straight out of the movies.
    â€œKrissy . . .” he started.
    â€œWait.” I held up a hand. “Let me go first.”
    Will paused, opened his mouth as if he might speak anyway, and then, like a gentleman, he nodded for me to go ahead.
    â€œI’m sorry for running off on you so much,” I said. “I’m acting like a jerk. We came to the party together, so we should spend some actual time together. I really do like you, and before you ask, Paul is just a friend. We might have gone on a date once, but it didn’t end all that great and we haven’t been out together since. The only time I ever see him anymore is when someone gets killed.” Which was happening far too regularly for my liking.
    Will held his smile during my entire speech. “I don’t blame you for what you’re doing,” he said. “I was going to tell you that I’m proud of you. I think you should keep doing it for as long as it takes to get to the bottom of this thing.”
    â€œEven if it means we don’t get to spend any time together tonight?”
    He shrugged. “I won’t lie and say I’m okay with you putting yourself at risk, but it makes you happy. What you are doing is important. You don’t have to worry about what I think. I have friends here; I can hang out with them until you’re done.” His smile widened. “I sometimes forget myself and act like a fool. I should be the one apologizing to you for acting as if I don’t understand. I do.”
    I suddenly felt all warm and fuzzy. “I’ve been an idiot.”
    Will took a step forward and wrapped me in a big hug. He smelled good. Very good. It was all I could do to keep from melting into him.
    â€œThat makes two of us.”
    I started to smile, but just then, something thumped behind me.
    I flew out of Will’s arms like he’d burst into flames. Heart hammering, I spun and scoured the hallway, trying to determine where the sound had come from. Fake cobwebs hung from the ceiling, concealing fake spiders, and probably a few real ones to boot.
    â€œDid you hear that?” I asked, voice shaking a little. The empty hallway that had been a blessing a moment ago suddenly felt oppressive and frightening. We were close enough to the ballroom that I doubted we were in any real danger, but then again, if the killer was here and had found a gun, we’d be on our own.
    The thump came again, and I was able to pinpoint it as coming from the second door on the right. The door was made of heavy wood and a gargoyle face had been carved into it. Red rubies were inset as eyes. When the next thump came, the face shook.
    â€œLet me,” Will said, taking a step forward, cane clenched in his fist.
    I really should have let him go first, but my stubborn streak kicked in then. I didn’t need saving or protecting, darn it! I snatched the cane out of his hand and stepped up to the door. I didn’t know if the person inside was the killer, a victim, or maybe not even a person at all. As far as I knew, Margaret Yarborough kept a pair of pit bulls locked away.
    â€œWe should wait for Paul,” Will said from just behind me. “Just in case.”
    â€œYou can go find him,” I said at a whisper. “But I’m going to check this out.” The murderer might have dragged someone into the room and could be killing them even now. I didn’t want another Monroe’s death to weigh on my conscience if I could have prevented it.
    I pressed my face close to the door, listening for other sounds. I thought I heard what sounded like a heavy glass clunking up against the floor, but it was hard to tell since it was quickly followed by another thump.
    â€œHello?” I said, causing Will to hiss in a nervous breath. “Is everything okay in there?”
    There was a snorted laugh, but otherwise, no answer.
    I looked at Will, who