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?”