Delaney retraced her steps to the parking lot and knocked on the back door of Allegrezza Construction. Nick’s Jeep wasn’t in the back lot.
The door swung open and Nick’s secretary, Ann Marie, appeared.
“Hi,” Delaney began. “I was wondering if you might have seen anyone back here today.”
“The garbage men emptied the Dumpster this afternoon.”
Delaney doubted she’d pissed off the garbage men. “How about Helen Markham?”
Ann Marie shook her head. “I didn’t see her today.”
Which didn’t mean Helen hadn’t left the note. After Delaney’s entry into the parade, Helen was probably livid. “Okay, thanks. If you see anyone hanging around that shouldn’t be here, will you let me know?”
“Sure. Did something happen?”
Delaney shoved the note into her coat pocket. “No, not really.”
The old Grange hall had been decorated with bales of hay, orange and black crepe paper, and cauldrons filled with dried ice. A bartender from Mort’s poured beer or cola at one end, and a country and western band played at the other. The ages of those gathered at the Halloween party ranged from teens who were too old to trick-or-treat to Wannetta Van Damme, who was tying one on with the two remaining World War vets.
By the time Delaney arrived, the band was well into its first set. She’d dressed in a black satin skirt, matching bustier, and black lace garters. The matching satin blazer she left at home. Her black stilettos had five-inch heels, and she’d spent twenty minutes making sure the lines on her stockings ran straight up the backs of her legs. Her boa was draped around her neck and the handcuffs were tucked in the waistband of her skirt. Except for her teased hair and thick mascara, most of her efforts were concealed by her wool coat.
She wanted nothing more than to go back home and fall head first into a coma. She’d thought of not coming at all. She was sure the note had come from Helen and was bugged by it more than she liked to admit. Sure, she’d stalked Helen a little bit. She’d hidden in her Dumpster and scoured her garbage, but that was different. She hadn’t left psychotic notes. If Delaney hadn’t told Steve she’d meet him, she’d be curled up right now in her favorite flannel nightgown, after a warm bath filled with fragrant bubbles.
Delaney reached for the buttons on her coat as her gaze scanned the crowd dressed in a wide variety of interesting costumes. She spied Steve dancing with a hippie chick who looked to be about twenty. They looked good together. She knew Steve saw women besides her and wasn’t bothered by it. He was a nice diversion sometimes when she needed to get out of her apartment. He was a nice guy, too.
She decided to keep her coat on as she made her way into the crowd. She squeezed by two cone-heads and a mermaid and almost ran smack into a Star Trek character covered in makeup with a slight yellow tinge.
“Hey, Delaney,” he said above the sound of county music. “I heard you moved back.”
The voice sounded vaguely familiar and he obviously knew her. She hadn’t a clue. His hair was slicked back with black spray-in color, and he wore a red and black uniform with a symbol that looked like an A on his chest. She’d never watched Star Trek and frankly didn’t understand the attraction. “Uh, yeah. I moved back in June.”
“Wes said that was you when you walked in.”
Delaney stared into eyes so light they hardly were blue at all. “Oh, my God,” she gasped. “Scooter!” There was only one thing scarier than a Finley. A Finley dressed up as a Trekkie.
“Yeah, it’s me. Long time no see.” Scooter’s makeup was cracking on his forehead, and his choice in face color picked up the yellow in his teeth. “You’re lookin‘ good,” he continued, his head nodding like one of those wooden Chinese dolls with the spring necks.
Delaney glanced around the area for someone to rescue her. “Yeah, you too Scooter,” she lied. She didn’t see anyone she recognized and her gaze rested on him once again. “What have you been up to?” she asked, making simple conversation until she could make her escape.
“Me and Wes own a fish farm over in Garden. We bought it from Wes’s old girlfriend after she ran off with a long-haul trucker. We’re going to make a fortune selling catfish.”
Delaney could only stare. “You have a fish farm?”
“Heck yeah. Where do you think all that fresh catfish comes from?”
What fresh catfish? Delaney didn’t recall seeing a lot of catfish at any meat counter in town. “Is there a big demand for that around here?”
“Not yet, but Wes and me figure that with E. coli and that chicken flu, people will start eating butt-loads of fish.” He raised a red Solo cup and took a long pull. “Are you married?”
Usually she hated that question, but she couldn’t get over the obvious fact that Scooter was an even bigger moron than she remembered. “Ah, no. Are you?”
“Divorced twice.”
“Go figure,” she said as she shook her head and shrugged. “See ya around, Scooter.” She moved past him but he followed.
“Wanna beer?”
“No, I’m meeting someone here.”
“Bring her along.”
“It’s not a her.”
“Oh.” He hung back and called after her. “See ya around, Delaney. Maybe I’ll call you sometime.”
His threat might have scared her if she’d been listed in the telephone book. She wove her way through a group dressed as punkers, to the edge of the dance floor. Abraham Lincoln asked her to dance, but she declined. Her head was beginning to pound and she wanted to go home, but she figured she owed it to Steve to tell him she was leaving. She spied him with Cleopatra this time, playing air guitar to Wynonna Judd’s “No One Else on Earth.”
Her eyes scrunched and she glanced away from Steve. He could be so extremely embarrassing sometimes. Her gaze stopped on a familiar couple dressed as a fifties tough and his girlfriend in a poodle skirt. From the perimeter of dancing couples, Delaney watched Louie swing Lisa behind his back then around front again. He pulled her against his chest and dipped her so low her ponytail brushed the ground. Delaney smiled and her gaze moved to the couple closest to Lisa and Louie. There was no mistaking the tall man spinning his niece like a top. As far as Delaney could tell, Nick’s only concession to the holiday was his txapel, his Basque beret. He wore jeans and a tan chambray shirt. Even without a costume, he managed to look like a two-stepping pirate, with that black beret pulled partway down his forehead.
For the first time since she’d moved away, Delaney seriously longed to be a part of a family again. Not a superficial controlling family like hers, but a real family. A family that laughed and danced and loved one another without conditions.
Delaney turned away and ran into Elvis. “Excuse me,” she said and looked up into Tommy Markham’s face complete with fake sideburns.
Tommy glanced from her to the woman at his side. Helen was still dressed as Lady Godiva, still had the crown on her head.
“Hello, Delaney,” she greeted her, a smug smile on her face as if she were superior. It was the same “kiss my ass” smile she’d been giving Delaney since the first grade.
Delaney was too tired to pretend a civility she didn’t feel. Her head pounded, fueled by Helen’s stupid smile. “How did you like my parade entry?”
Helen’s smile fell. “Pathetic, but predictable.”
“Not as pathetic as your mangy wig and cheap crown.” The music stopped as she stepped forward and shoved her face in Helen’s. “And if you ever leave me another threatening note, I’ll shove it up your nose.”
Helen’s brows lowered and she blinked. “You’re mental. I never left you any note.”