things will get better in the fall,” Susie remarked. “We get a lot of tourists then.”
“Really? Why?” From what I had seen of Oak Hollow, there wasn’t much to attract visitors.
“Don’t you know? Every autumn our town hosts a big Halloween Haunt. People come from miles around to see it.”
Funny, that hadn’t been in the brochure I’d read.
“It’s held the night before Halloween out at the old Carrick place on Cross Creek Road. They have a pumpkin patch, a really scary haunted house, and games for the kids. They give prizes for the most original costume, stuff like that. It’s really fun.”
Some people believed the Carrick house was inhabited by the ghost of the last man who had lived and died there. It seemed like the perfect place to hold a haunted house. No doubt any Vampires and Werewolves in attendance would feel right at home. I was pretty sure that any Supernatural creatures who showed up would have some really great costumes.
A few minutes later, Susie’s kids came running up to the counter, each one waving a book in one hand and punching the nearest sibling with the other.
As loud and obnoxious as her boys were, the store seemed quieter than usual after Susie and her brood left.
Since I kept the store open until nine on Fridays, I went over to the café a little after five for a quick dinner break. I ordered a turkey club sandwich, curly fries, and a chocolate malt. I know, too many carbs, too many calories, but hey, I deserved it.
While waiting for my meal to arrive, I glanced around the café, wondering if coming to Oak Hollow had been such a good idea after all. A Vampire lived here year-round. At the moment, there were a number of other Vampires in residence, which meant there were probably an equal number of Werewolves somewhere in the vicinity. I wondered if they were having a war council or a paranormal conference of some kind.
Maybe I should just close up the store, sell the house, and leave town. The idea wasn’t as appealing as it should have been, and I knew Raphael Cordova was the reason.
I read the local newspaper while I ate. Most of the news concerned the new movie theater being built on the south side of town, whether it would have two screens or four, and if it would put the local drive-in out of business. I shook my head. Living in Oak Hollow was like living in the early part of the twentieth century. In a way, I hoped the town and its people never caught up to the present. Since we were pretty much off the beaten path, there wasn’t much crime here; life was slower and more laid-back. The people were open and friendly, and when the baddies weren’t here in number, the townspeople sat outside in the evening, or strolled down the street, stopping to chat with their friends and neighbors.
Several people nodded or waved to me as I walked back to the store. Flicking on the overhead lights, I went behind the counter, thinking maybe I should buy a portable DVD player so I’d have something to do while I waited for those elusive customers to find their way into my shop. I glanced around, wondering if I would attract more customers if I sold homemade fudge or cookies or something equally fattening and irresistible.
I was in the back room, unpacking a box of new releases, when the bell announced that someone had entered the store. My heart did a little tap dance at the thought that it might be Raphael. Running a hand over my hair, I took a deep breath and hurried toward the front of the store.
I knew a moment of disappointment when I saw that it wasn’t my favorite Vampire. This man was fair where Raphael was dark, his eyes were yellow instead of black, but other than that, the two men were of a similar build, although Raphael was a few inches taller, and broader through the shoulders.
My skin tingled oddly as he moved toward me. He was a Were. I knew it immediately, as I had known that Raphael was a Vampire. But the moon wasn’t full, so I figured I was safe enough.
I moved behind the counter. “May I help you?”
“I hope so. I’m looking for a book called Nocturne by Xavier Valdez. It’s out of print, but I was hoping you might have an old copy lying around.”
“It doesn’t sound familiar,” I said, “but I can check for you, if you’d like.”
“Thanks.”
I powered up my JG5000 and typed in what I was looking for. The JG5000 was the latest in computer technology. It was small, portable, required no hookup or cables, and the battery lasted for five years. You could talk to it or type in your commands; the JG could respond verbally or display the message on the screen. At home, I liked the verbal commands, but here at work, I used the keyboard.
I typed in the title, and when nothing came up, I typed in the author’s name. “I’m sorry, nothing comes up. Have you tried the library?”
“No luck there, either. Well, thanks for trying,” he said with a shrug. “It was worth a shot.”
“Have you looked on WebNet? You might be able to find a used copy there.”
“Struck out there, too. You’re new in town, aren’t you?”
I nodded. His question proved that he wasn’t. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.”
“Coming in here wasn’t a total loss,” he said with a dazzling smile. “At least I got to meet you.”
I couldn’t believe it. Except for having dinner with Raphael, I hadn’t had a date in six months, hadn’t met a man who even appealed to me in all that time, and now, in less than a week, I’d met two gorgeous guys, and neither one of them was human. Talk about rotten luck!
“I’m Cagin, by the way.”
“Just Cagin?”
“Joseph, but nobody calls me that.”
“Kathy McKenna.”
“So, Kathy, there’s a pretty lake not far from here. How’d you like to go on a picnic Sunday afternoon?”
“I don’t know…”
“Is it because we’ve just met?”
“Partly.”
“Partly?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t date Werewolves.”
“No problem, then,” he said with a wink, “since I’m not a Werewolf.”
Funny, I’d been sure he was. Okay, so, maybe my Supernatural radar wasn’t all that reliable.
“Come on,” he coaxed, “I promise to be good. I’ll even pack a lunch if you’ll bring dessert.” He glanced around. “I’ll even buy something to sweeten the deal.”
“All right,” I agreed, “but only if I get to pick the book.”
“Done!”
Grinning, I walked to the back of the store and picked up an enormous volume titled Gunmen and Ghost Towns of the Wild West. I had ordered it by mistake and had been wondering how I’d unload it, since the supplier refused to take it back.
“Gunmen and Ghost Towns of the Wild West,”
