in Llanview 2006

On a Tuesday night that just happened to be Halloween, Dr. Michael McBain went out in a thunderstorm. It was pretty dark out but he sensed that most of the usual Halloween mischief had been curtailed by the rain. At least he hoped so. As he approached Angel Square he heard a clap of thunder that made him jump slightly. Soon after that came a streak of lightning overhead. All the lights flickered off and on in the buildings. It was close. He was almost positive it hit the hotel marquee. The old sign flickered on and off a couple of times before the neon came back on. Instead of Angel Square Hotel, though, it now spelled out _ _ _ _ _ S_ U _R_E _ _ _EL.”

Michael took out his key and went inside, up the creaky stairs to his brother’s room. He’d come to clean up and gather John’s belongings because Roxy needed the room. Michael never understood why John hadn't looked for a better apartment. There was no question that this was a fleabag hotel—the kind that rented rooms to drifters.

Roxy closed up Foxy Roxy’s Hair Haven and boogied on over to the Hotel. She was supposed to meet Nigel there. Just outside the Hotel, she saw the lights on in Johnny McBain’s room. What the heck? She went in to check it out, racing up the two flights of stairs, making a racket in her high-heeled boots. The door was wide open and she caught Michael McBain standing inside.

“Oh, it’s you. You scared me, Doc,” Roxy said, breathless.

“I’m sorry. I’m just here to pack up John’s stuff.”

“Okay,” said Roxy. “So now I’ll have another room to rent. That’s the good news. The bad news is that lightning knocked out my sign. I heard it all the way over at Foxy Roxy’s.”

Michael screwed up his face. “I know. I’m sorry, Roxy.”

“That’s gonna cost a fortune to fix. Oh well. Ya win some, ya lose some. Hey! Maybe Cristian can paint me a sign. That boy is talented.”

Roxy turned to leave. “You’ll have to excuse me. Nigel and I are slumming it. There’s a costume party over at the Country Club. I’ve got to get changed.”

Michael weighed in “Tommy’s too young for trick-or-treating, Marcie.”

Nigel arrived in the lobby just as Roxy was coming down the stairs in her get-up.

“Ta-da! Are you ready for the party, Nige?”

“You look faboo. Hey! I want to get my camera and get a picture of the two of us.”

“Oh, won’t that be fun,” Nigel remarked dryly.

“I’ll have Dr. McDreamy upstairs take our picture. C’mon upstairs with me, Nige.”

“Very well, Ms. Roxanne.”

Back inside John’s room, they found Michael and Marcie arguing over Tommy.

“Ahem,” Roxy cleared her throat. “Can you do me a favor, McSteamy?”

Michael turned to face them. “Hey, look at you guys. Star Trek, huh?”

“Yep,” said Roxy “We’re Trekkies. Part of the Enterprise crew. I’m wearing red cuz Nigel over here refused to wear that color. But I don’t get it.”

“The color becomes you, not I,” Nigel said.

“Anyway, would you mind taking our picture?”

Roxy reached up and put her arm around Nigel. Michael handed baby Tommy off to his wife and said, “Count of three. Here we go, 1, 2, 3!” and they grinned as he snapped the photo.

Roxy thanked him. “C’mon, Nigel. Let’s go. We have to get out there and fight those nasty Klingoffs.”

With thunder and lightning outside La Boulaie, David Vickers poked through a pile of DVDs hoping to find something good and scary to watch on Halloween. He finally grabbed one and popped it into Dorian’s DVD player. The opening credits came on over some somber music followed by the title graphics for “The Mummy.” “This looks pretty good!” he said as he bit into a candy apple.

Michael wanted to go up to the roof to see if he could fix the sign for Roxy. Marcie heard a clap of thunder outside. “Don’t go up there in a storm,” she warned him.

“I’ll be fine. I think I can fix it. Can you pack up the rest of my brother’s things?”

Michael went out into the hallway and noticed several large puddles. Wow, he thought. Roxy’s sprung a few leaks in the ceiling. He gave the door to the roof a big push. As he ventured to the ledge he saw that the No Vacancy sign had burned out. Now it read “Vacancy.” This place is starting to look like the Bates Motel, he mused. He grabbed a few electrical cords and pulled. Then he ventured back to John’s room and closed the door.

“Oh, thank God you’re all right,” Marcie exclaimed.

“No luck. I fixed the “A” and “L” in “Angel” though.

At that moment Michael and Marcie heard a squishy sound and, listening closely, they could hear a female voice calling, “Toddy, Toddy. Mama’s coming.” The voice got closer.

They saw the doorknob turn and in walked a thin woman, soaking wet, with stringy hair and seaweed clinging to her face.

Michael’s jaw dropped, “Margaret Cochran!”

“I’ve come for my little Toddy.” The seaweed creature said.

Marcie wasn’t horrified—she just felt fiesty. “His name is Tommy, you witch, and you can’t have him.” She turned to her husband. “I just knew this whole adoption thing was too good to be true. Didn’t I tell you?” she screamed. She held Tommy tighter in her arms, shielding him from Dead, Wet Margaret.

Michael grabbed her forearm, pulling her forward and pushing her out the door. He quickly turned the lock so that his family was safe inside and the witch was out in the hall.

“Margaret Cochran. You mean to tell me she isn’t really dead?” said Michael.

“Or it’s a Halloween stunt?” Pumpkin Marcie hoped. “But she’s after Tommy. Maybe she’s from Child Services. Just come to check on us.”

From out in the hall, they heard Margaret ranting, “I need a room, please. I’m only a simple drifter. Isn't this where I should be? I just drifted in. On a piece of driftwood no less.”

Michael and Marcie heard what sounded like a power tool as Margaret sliced away through the door with a chainsaw.

Margaret stuck her head through the hole she'd made, resting her chin on the bits of chopped up plywood poking out, and started ranting, “HEEEERE’S Johnny!”

Marcie screamed, “Oh my God! You psychopath.”

“Now, now. Such talk,” Margaret scolded. “This is a hotel. I just want a room for my Toddy. A roof over his head.”

Michael nodded at Marcie and she knew that meant he had a plan. “This room is free,” said Michael. "Just let me go down and get all the paperwork started.” Michael left and went downstairs and dialed 9-1-1 to report a woman with a chainsaw and a potential kidnapping.

“You should dry off,” said Marcie.

“Oh,” said Margaret. I haven’t been outside in the rain. I’m just wet." She sighed, "I’m always dripping wet.”

Marcie was hatching a plan. She strapped Tommy into his baby carrier. “Let me fix you a cup of tea and some toast. I didn’t pack up the kitchen stuff yet.”

“All right,” Margaret said, “I need to keep up my strength for my baby.”

Marcie put the tea kettle on and stood guard over Tommy. Luckily, Margaret was still holding the chainsaw and couldn't get to him.

“Do I need references to rent the room? I have many people who can vouch for me: Todd Manning, Spencer Truman, Kevin Buchanan, to name a few.

As Margaret rambled on, Marcie stood poissed to carry out her plan. "How about a little juice?" she asked as she went over to the toaster. “Uh-oh. Hey, the toast is stuck in the toaster and I think it’s going to burn. Can you help me?”

Margaret came over. Marcie handed her a knife. “Here, use this.”

Margaret was still dripping wet. “A knife? Is that a good idea?” She stuck the knife in the toaster while Marcie watched.

“Try unplugging it,” Marcie urged.

As Margaret’s wet hand made contact with the electrical socket, smoke poured out of her ears and and she crashed to the floor.

Marcie snatched up Tommy in the baby carrier and went downstairs to Michael. “We’re all set, baby,” she told him. “Water and electricity don’t mix. You don’t have to be the author of The Killing Club to know that.”

“You mean she’s . . .”

“Yep. Dead as a doornail. You stay here and talk to the police. I’m taking Tommy home. And I’m going to write about his first Halloween in his baby book. Of course,” she winked, “I’m leaving out the part about the crazy bitch!”

“You’re my hero,” Michael told her.