The Skeleton Haunts a House Read Free Page A

difficulty of carrying my load through the ever-increasing crowd, I was gone considerably longer than half an hour. When I finally got back, I handed Deborah the sack of food, reached in to grab a hot dog and a mustard packet for myself, and asked, “Isn’t Scooby out yet?”
    â€œOut and back in again. He was making a hairy nuisance—”
    â€œGood one!”
    â€œWhat?” She made a face. “God, you’re as bad as he is. He was making a nuisance of himself while waiting for you, so I gave him another ticket.”
    â€œJinkies. I guess he enjoyed it.”
    â€œSomething weird about a . . .” She looked around and apparently decided too many people were in earshot. “About a guy like Scooby liking a haunted house, don’t you think?”
    â€œHe loves Halloween. You know, he volunteered to work here for you.”
    â€œMadison told me. Thanks, but no thanks. We only hire fake spooks.”
    â€œSuit yourself.” It was probably just as well. The other cast members might have noticed there was something odd about my pal.
    I’d just finished my second hot dog when the first screams came. Well, to be fair, people had been screaming the whole time, attesting to the success of the scare actors’ efforts, but these came via Deborah’s walkie-talkie.
    â€œWhat’s going on in there?” she demanded of whoever was on the other end.
    The response was loud enough that I could hear it plainly. “There’s a dead body in here!”

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    â€œS ay again?” Deborah’s tone was determinedly matter-of-fact, but I could see how tightly she was gripping the walkie-talkie.
    â€œThere’s a dead woman in the party room. A real one!”
    â€œWho is it?” Deborah barked, and I knew she was thinking the same thing I was. My daughter, Madison, Deborah’s niece, was in there. Sid was, too, but the voice had said “she.”
    â€œI don’t know. There’s blood and . . . It’s real blood!”
    â€œDon’t go anywhere, and don’t touch anything! I’m coming!” She keyed a different switch. “Security. Lock the haunt down—nobody in or out. Do it now!” Another switch. “Bring up all house lights and shut off sound effects. Room monitors, hold all groups in place and stay where you are! Tell your actors to drop character.”
    Then she pointed at her ticket agents. “You, call 911. Tell them to send cops and an ambulance. You, call campus security. I’m going in.”
    She headed for the front door, and I was right on her heels.
    â€œWhere’s Madison?” I asked.
    â€œI’m not sure.” Back on the walkie-talkie, she said, “Room monitors sound off.” Deborah must have prepared them for an emergency because they started giving their names and statuses, including which scare actors were with them. Their voices were probably higher-pitched than usual, but they were holding it together.
    Deborah led us in the front of the building, where a group of confused customers surrounded a young girl in a bride of Frankenstein costume. “Stay here!” Deborah ordered as we zoomed past, ignoring their questions.
    There was a wide stairway in front of us, and though the glow-in-the-dark arrows painted on the floor pointed up, Deborah went past them to part a set of black curtains. The enclosure behind held control boards manned by college-aged kids in jeans and orange
McHades Hall Crew
T-shirts.
    â€œWhat’s going on?” one wanted to know.
    â€œI’m going to find out. Stay here, stay safe.”
    We went through another set of curtains at the back, and I found myself in a narrow corridor made up of plywood walls. Deborah went forward and slid open a door. Just as we went in, I heard a room monitor on the walkie-talkie say, “Avery. I’ve got Madison and her group with me.” I took a breath, wondering how long it had