Free Angel Lane by Sheila Roberts

tree skeletons clawed at the sky. Somewhere a dog howled.
    Not that anyone noticed. At the annual Heart Lake Goblin Walk, even a banshee would have had a hard time making itself heard above the din of music, laughter, and childish squeals coming from the crowd prowling Lake Way and all its tributaries. Parents and grandparents escorted little princesses, superheroes, and skeletons on their hunt for treats while costumed shop owners stood outside their shops with giant bowls of candy and trinkets. Both the fire and police departments were manning booths, giving away stickers and flyers on fire safety.
    â€œAren’t you so cute,” Emma cooed over a little princess who had stopped to dip into her witch’s cauldron for a packet ofM&M’s. “Did your mommy make your costume?” she asked, smiling at the woman holding the princess’s hand. A potential fabric customer—she hoped she wasn’t salivating too obviously.
    â€œHer grandma in Oregon made it,” said the woman. “I don’t have time to sew,” she added in a tone that implied sewing was only for people who didn’t have a life.
    Before Emma could think of a reply, the princess and her mother the queen vanished. They were replaced by a group of sugar-buzzed superheroes. One of them vacuumed up Emma’s candy supply as though he were collecting food for his last meal. The others quickly followed suit. Neither of the two dads in charge of the group said anything. That was probably because they were too busy checking out a woman on the other side of the street in a Catwoman outfit to pay attention to what the kids were up to.
    Oh, well, Emma decided. There was her good deed for the day. She wondered how Jamie was doing.
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    Valentine Square didn’t have the mob that the shop owners one street up were facing, but they were getting a steady trickle. Just enough to make Jamie feel guilty every time she considered taking her Tootsie Rolls and packing it in.
    â€œAre we having fun yet?” called Roxy Reynolds from her post in front of the card shop. She stood chatting with her assistant and Monique, the owner of Whisper, the lingerie shop, who was wrapped up like a mummy. Monique could barely move, but Jamie was willing to bet she was at least warm.
    â€œOh, yeah,” Jamie called back.
    â€œIf you think this is fun, you’re whacked,” said Clarice, Jamie’s part-time help, as she refilled the bowl. She had dyed her hair orange in honor of the holiday and was all dolled up with fake blood, her face painted corpse white. “Okay, that’s the last of the candy. When it’s gone, you’re done. And speaking of done . . .”
    â€œI know, I know,” said Jamie. “You can take off. Have fun in Seattle.”
    Clarice grinned. “We will. Borg is sure to win the costume contest tonight. He’s going as a chick magnet, with a big, shiny red magnet around his neck. It even glows in the dark. So do other parts of him,” she added with a smirk.
    â€œTMI,” said Jamie, rolling her eyes. “Get out of here already.”
    Clarice skipped off like a giant kid. Come to think of it, at barely twenty, that was what she was.
    Jamie couldn’t help smiling. Next to Christmas, this was the best night of the year for kids, both big and little. She used to love Halloween. She still did. It was the one night of the year when the monsters were pretend.
    She greeted a well-rounded woman escorting two girls and a little boy wearing a Frankenstein mask who looked more like a beach ball with legs. All three kids carried king-sized pillowcases, which they had barely filled. She guessed they’d go on to raid Heart Lake Estates after doing downtown. Jamie offered her plate of fudge to the woman and the bowl of cheap candy to the kids. The beach ball dove right into the bowl.
    The girls were no fools. They snatched the fudge. “That’s good,” said one, and