The Diva Haunts the House by Krista Davis

faintly of lemon.
    His frightened look reminded me of Maggie the day before when she was in the Hummer. What were they afraid of?
    “Again, I’m very sorry, Sophie.” Leon dragged out my front door as though headed to his doom.
    Natasha didn’t seem to notice his discomfort. “Incidentally, when people tell me how creepy my Halloween decorations are, I’m going to send them to your house. That doll is like something out of a horror movie. I never would have expected it of you. Mother thinks it’s possessed.”
    “What doll?” I was still groggy and couldn’t recall decorating with a doll. What was she talking about?
    She pointed outside. Propped up on the top of one of my pumpkins stood the most hideous doll I’d ever seen. The eyes alone were enough to give me nightmares. They were completely white, with no irises or pupils, but vivid red and black ringed them against skin paler than Humphrey’s. The black hair started too far back on the head, accentuating a huge forehead. “What on earth?” I picked up the doll and held it gingerly. I really didn’t want to touch the horrid thing.
    Still holding the doll, I stepped back inside. Natasha closed the door and leaned against it. “I don’t know if Leon is going to work out. You’re so lucky that you’re not as busy as I am, and that you don’t need an assistant. Honestly, it’s hard to find good help. He came highly recommended, but sometimes I think he’s like you—he likes the easy projects but isn’t keen on the truly beautiful things that set me apart.”
    I motioned her into the kitchen, trying to hide my amusement at her insult, and dropped the doll inside a plastic bag, glad to have it out of sight. I put pumpkin spice coffee on to brew and fed Daisy one of her favorite homemade peanut butter biscuits cut in the shape of a witch’s hat. I’d anticipated the possibility of haunted house volunteers dropping by in the morning and was glad I’d baked a chocolate pecan coffee ring in advance. “Did you ask your mother if she would tell fortunes at the haunted house?” I sliced the coffee ring and set it on the table.
    “She’s thrilled. And so am I. The police have already removed her from the roped-off area once this morning. She was using a mirror to flash the sun in some kind of protective spell.
    “Sophie,” she continued, her voice dropping, “do you think I’ll ever live down last night’s party? I’m horrified. No one in this town will ever come to a party at our house again.”
    “Look on the bright side—your name is probably being mentioned in every house in Old Town this morning. How bad is the damage?”
    “We’ll know more in a few hours when the cleanup and restoration people arrive. They’re not letting us in yet. One of the firefighters said it didn’t look too bad. I had to sweettalk him into bringing me a change of clothes.” She sniffed. “Everything reeks of smoke, but it beats wearing something of June’s.”
    “At least there weren’t any subsequent explosions. Do the police have any new theories, or are they still thinking the killer meant to create a distraction?”
    “I was hoping you would know through your direct connection to Wolf. They haven’t told me a thing.” She lowered her forehead into the points of her fingers. “A murder at my party. The police better find the killer fast because if I find him first, I might be tempted to kill. A million Halloween parties in town and the killer had to pick mine?” She raised her head and fluffed her hair. “And then I had to shower in June’s ancient bathroom this morning. It’s like the nightmare never ends.”
    Daisy’s ears perked. Natasha hissed, “Ixnay on the irefay.” Vegas shuffled into the kitchen. Did Natasha really think kids didn’t understand pig Latin?
    “Natasha!” Vegas scooted into the chair beside her. “I saw Viktor Luca last night!”
    “Who?” Natasha kissed the air near Vegas’s cheek. “Ugh. You stink. What is that