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Sweat dotted her brow and dampened the material at the small of her back, doubt attacking her from every front. Had she made a terrible mistake? There were too many people here to corral them all. Too many motives and variables she couldn’t control.
Her breath shallowed, the corset suddenly cinching her in all the wrong places.
“Jane,” Conrad prompted as he moved closer. So close, the front of his body molded to the back of hers. He settled a hand on her hip and bent his head to her ear. “Focus on me. Breathe in. Out. Good. Did I tell you how beautiful you look in that dress? The hat is. …not terrible.”
A little laugh barked from her. Her eyes widened. Dang, she liked this man.
“Calm now?” he asked, squeezing her.
Each of her nerve endings pinged. She nodded, then notched her chin. The only mistake she’d made tonight was thinking she’d made a mistake. She had this.
From the town square, a clock tower gonged. Midnight had arrived. The tour could begin.
As she scanned the crowd, she memorized the faces of her attendees. Tons of people would receive a bill tomorrow. Jane planned to use every cent she earned tonight to pay Beau for his work.
“All right, boys. It’s showtime.” She bent to collect the lantern. The light must have glinted off Conrad’s gun again, because several guests paled and hurried to insert themselves into the masses.
Stepping to the edge of the dais, Jane sought everyone’s attention. “Welcome, foolish mortals,” she called, then exaggerated a wince. “I mean, brave souls. I suggest you gird your loins, for you are soon to meet the spirits that haunt this cemetery, and there’s no turning back.” With her thumb, she triggered a remote tucked in her pocket. The stringed lights hanging throughout the area blinked to life. A ghostly wind moaned over a hidden speaker.
Someone shrieked, and a few uncomfortable laughs followed. Good. Best to keep everyone guessing. They might reveal more than they’d intended.
“Are you ready to enter into the land of the dead?” Considering she wore miles of fabric, a thousand ruffles and a lung flattening corset, she handed the lantern to Conrad and lifted both of her hands in expectation, whispering to her companions, “Help me!”
After only the briefest pause, each man aided her descent of the steps.
“I’ll follow the group from the rear,” Beau said before jogging off.
Conrad returned the lantern to Jane. “I’ll remain by your side at all times. Don’t even think about ditching me.”
“Do you hear me complaining?” Like a good hostess—guidetress?—Jane swept forward, leading the charge. “Follow me…if you dare.”
As the group of what seemed to be millions motored past the gravesites, she shared facts about Aurelian Hills, secret societies and the duels and murders that brought the first occupants to the Garden. She made dramatic hand gestures for effect. And puns. Lots and lots of puns.
Something she quickly learned: she couldn’t keep track of the right people while remembering her lines. But she tried, her determination unmatched. Jane stuck to the lighted trail, knowing Beau’s cameras recorded everything. Thankfully, the route provided a stunning view. Paper lanterns hung from poles, illuminating headstones. The angel statue cast an arresting shadow. Hanging vines created curtains here and there. Vines swirled beside the cobblestone path.
The first stop on the tour was, as always, an introduction to Muffin. Tonight, though, she wanted the killer to see the fake crowbar and attempt to snatch on camera. As everyone gathered around her, she shifted her attention to Emma as much as possible. Which wasn’t possible because she couldn’t spot the woman in the crowd. Dr. Garcia and Caroline seemed particularly touched by the ghost dog that watched over the residents. Many others remained uninterested, glancing around. On the hunt for the dead or gold?
Next Jane visited a series of five headstones, each depicting the grim reaper in a different stance. Her audience had thinned, and she fought to hide a grin. Seemed some of her guests had lagged behind or wandered off. How interesting.
“This is the Death family,” she said. “And yes, that is their real name, only pronounced Deeth. They liked to poke fun of their unusual name.”
“More and more people are branching off,” Conrad muttered to her.
“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” she muttered right back. Muffin’s marker wasn’t the only one being watched by cameras. Later, when her last guest left, Jane would watch every stream of feed and find out who had returned to the murder weapon, who had checked out the murder site, and who had inspected the coffins and gravestones with the Order of Seven symbol.
To ensure the right people felt secure enough to venture off, Jane continued on the tour as if nothing was wrong. Except things took a horrible turn after the eighth stop.
Murmurs about the supposed gold grew louder and louder until someone shouted, “Where is it? Show us the gold!”
