“…this is the place you had in mind?” A man wrinkles his nose at salmon-colored seats. “This is on par with my middle school cafeteria.”
Antiquated bars are not to Thomas Wallerton Jr.’s taste. If he was to be dragged out to Soho on a Friday night, he would have preferred a venue bit more…chic, as his wife would put it. Too bad she was enjoying Ladies’ Night at their country club.
“Trust me, bro – this shit’s good,” Another man scoffs. “Yo, Mandy, let’s prove Tommy here wrong, yeah?”
The waitress’s expression turns a bit stony before she straightens. “This way.”
Tommy winces a bit as his friend makes a swat at her ass, only for her to smoothly sidestep. “Here you go. I’ll be back shortly to get your drinks.”
“They love me here,” His friend laughs.
“Lay off the vapes, Caleb. It’s getting to your head.”
“Chill out. I think you’ll like this place,” Caleb lifts the menu. “They’ve got freshly shucked oysters and Montauk tuna. Perfect for your posh Islander tastes…”
He trails off and Tommy turns around, looking to see what had occurred. A tall woman stood nearby – gorgeous, but not quite beautiful. Aside from her figure, her skin was an eerie grey and her eyes empty black voids. Her hair was in a silver coif, wispy strands framing her face.
Caleb is far gone, drool leaking from the corner of his mouth. The woman saunters up to them. Tommy averts his gaze. Wrinkling his nose as Caleb’s drool drops onto the tablecloth, he excuses himself to the bathroom.
When several screams echo through the restaurant, he startles before cursing under his breath. He hastily pulls his pants back up and swiftly steps away.
As soon as he gets out of the bathroom, Tommy searches for Caleb through the crowds of both staff and dining patrons.
“Excuse me – ma’am,” He mutters.
“You!” She cries.
“Me?”
“Your friend, he – right there! He was kissing some ghost lady and then just fainted!”
***
“Hello New York, have I got a special treat for you! Usually, we do unsolved mysteries, but I’ve got an exclusive tip – AH!”
“We can’t afford an Uber to SoHo, Millie.”
“Well, Imani, I think some of us can. And we would pool our money –”
“We are not paying for an Uber just so you can vlog for your five followers, Mills,” Skylar pokes her head in.
They make their way to the station at 125th street, breaking into a sprint on 126th street. As they charge down the stairs, Neves visibly slumps in relief.
“You guys made it.”
“Made it? We watched four C trains and three A train leave before they got here,” Rocky snaps.
“It’s not like we’re on the clock, Rukhsana,” Skylar checks her nails before glancing at Neves. “You would have told us if there were decomposing bodies, involved, right?”
“I dunno, honestly. Mandy didn’t say. I’d assume she’d mention it if there were.”
“Neves!”
“Why are all of us going, again?” Imani places a hand on her hip.
“Well…she kinda just wanted Millie because she saw her, ya know…” Neves gestures to Millie and her tripod.
“Murders with Mills,” Everyone choruses dully.
“Hey, it’s a good show! A great show, actually!” Millie protests. “We hit ten views on an episode yesterday, how’s that?”
Rocky pops her bubblegum bubble loudly.
“Tough crowd,” Millie snorts.
“Anyways,” Neves continues then. “She wanted Millie, but she also didn’t want to be left alone with Millie – no offense Mills, she’s just an introvert like that. So, she asked me, and like a good friend, I invited the rest of you!”
“Oh.”
“Hm.”
“…”
The A train pulls in then, and Neves nods at Millie. Neves drags Skylar and Imani onto the subway as soon as it opens, getting some disgruntled responses for breaking etiquette. Millie scurries after them.
“Mills!” Neves hisses.
“Nope, not getting beat up again,” Millie shudders.
“Come on, Rocky, don’t be a buzzkill,” Imani calls.
“A buzzkill?” Rocky scoffs. “I’ve got a competition in a week, and you want me to come along and –”
The subway doors shut on her tirade, and they watch as she fades away when the subway pulls out. The exception is Skylar who flops onto an open seat.
“Good riddance.” She murmurs as she puts on her mask.
“Don’t be mean,” Imani nudges her lightly with her foot.
The diner is a quaint little joint, Millie supposes. As they walk in, she sees a framed menu with the offerings typewritten on yellowed paper. At the empty hostess desk sits a basket with laminated white menus.
Millie tentatively rings the bell, and the door to the kitchen bangs open.
“Hello, sit anywhere you’d like!”
“You’re open for business?” Skylar asks skeptically.
“Yes,” The waitress huffs, giving her an unimpressed look. “I’ll have you know that the food poisoning rumors were not confirmed. They will not be confirmed because they are false.”
“We’re friends of Mandy,” Neves says then, wiggling her eyebrows.
The waitress grimaces. “You’re not, like, the cops, right?”
Skylar snorts and Imani frowns.
Neves laughs. “You think Mandy pals around with the cops?”
“Hm, I suppose not,” The waitress sighs. “Well, if you’re helping us – it’s on the house. I’m Felicia, by the way.”
“Call me Neves.”
“Hi, I’m Skylar.”
“Imani T. Jackson. Pleasure to meet you.”
After Imani introduces herself, Felicia nods politely and murmurs something about getting them water.
“Rude,” Skylar mutters.
“And suspicious,” Neves leans in.
“You think?” Imani wonders.
“Yeah. I told Mandy that Millie was our resident true crime aficionado. Felicia even said it herself; Mandy told her we were helping her. After the rest of us introduced ourselves, she must have known that Millie was the only one left. And she left.”
“Do you think that maybe Mandy didn’t mention it? Like Skylar said, it was still rude, but let’s wait a bit before drawing conclusions.”
“Oh, for sure,” Neves leans back as Felicia reappears from the kitchen.
“Here you go – ready to order yet?”
The others look at Millie.
“Ahem – ah, I’m Millie, by the way. May we ask you some questions?”
“O-oh! Of course, but since you’re doing us such a huge favor, the least we could do is make sure you have some food.” Felicia stutters through her sentence before ending on a loud laugh.
“I’ll have the 20-dollar quinoa bowl,” Skylar says dryly.
“Alright! Anyone else?”
“Respectfully, Miss, I think we are quite alright. We would like to get started – see how we help,” Imani says gently.
“Why couldn’t Mandy herself come?” Skylar asks Neves.
“Oh, she is,” Neves sighs. “They brought her down to the precinct for questioning. Rattled her bad.”
“Poor thing,” Imani murmurs sympathetically.
“Uh huh. Not her first time at the rodeo either so it must’ve been rough.” Neves twists a coil of hair around her finger, before letting it bounce back.
“Do we know anything?” Millie questions.
“I – Wait, there she is!” Neves leaps up and waves.
Mandy Byrne is a stark contrast to the warmth of the diner. Her all-black attire is a distinct ink blot amongst the pinks and browns of the interior. She speaks in crisp words, cold and sharp.
“I told you 2 pm,” She annunciates aggressively, brows furrowed.
“Yeah, well we wanted to check the place out, chillax.” Neves flicks her hand dismissively.
Mandy shoots her a judgmental look before casting an unimpressed gaze at the rest of them. “Which one is Melissa?”
“It’s Millie.” Millie says, a bit miffed by her ungratefulness.
“Get a move on, Melanie.”
Millie briefly contemplates telling her to kiss her ass. Imani gives her knee a light squeeze, and she takes a deep breath.
“Okay, okay, Detective Millie Bianchi on the case. First things first – what happened the night the victim was…uh, what happened to him?”
“He – don’t laugh, I swear – he got kissed by this strange female ghoul. They were getting all gross and frisky so I thought, fuck it, as long as he’s not bothering the rest of us. Then…yeah. It happened,” Mandy’s intense scowl melts into a distracted frown as she glances away.
Millie nods, leaning forward attentively.
“She…she seemed to take the life out of him.” Mandy mutters. “He just…collapsed. It was horrifying. He was having some kind of reaction,”
“Did anyone call the cops?” Millie asks.
“No.” Mandy says crisply, before, “Look, it’s not what you think!”
Millie hesitates before sighing heavily. “You know this doesn’t make you look good, right? Were you the only one on shift?”
“No. There was me. And two other girls. The shift manager bailed on us beforehand for family matters – I was told I was covering as manager for the night,” Mandy mutters.
“Can I speak to them?”
“No. They barely speak English anyways,” Mandy huffs. “That’s why I got fired. It was my fault. I failed to call the cops, I guess, since the other girls couldn’t really talk to the dispatcher, the responsibility fell on me.”
Millie fidgets in her seat. “Mandy, did you interact with the victim at all?”
“Yeah.”
“And? What was he like?”
“He was an asshole. The typical sleaze that harasses working girls and shit. Acts all tough like he wasn’t sucking exec dick all day.”
“Sounds gross,” Millie says.
Mandy rolls her eyes. “Yep. Look, I need to find a new job. Good luck, I guess.”
“If I may ask,” Imani says politely, “Why does Mandy want us to help? She does not seem particularly… invested herself.”
“I didn’t realize she took the fall,” Neves remarks.
“Something’s not adding up.” Millie notes.
Skylar hums, pulling out her phone. She flashes her screen briefly to show her notes app.
After a few moments, she leans back. “I wish we knew what the ghoul looked like. What could have happened? Depending on the motive perhaps she purposely triggered his allergy.”
“True,” Imani adds. “It could be anything from purposely eating a food or perhaps a flavored lip balm. Very simple, innocuous but -”
“Effective,” Millie says.
Felicia is skittish for the rest of their visit. She watches them anxiously as they take some photos and look for evidence.
She’s about to dart off after giving them the bill, already pivoting, when Imani clears her throat.
“Felicia?”
“Yes?” She squeaks.
“Were you there that night?” Imani asks gently.
Felicia relaxes a bit, although the tension in her frame persists. “No. I was off.”
“Do you perhaps know anyone that was?” Skylar asks.
“No. But they can’t help you, sorry,” Felicia murmurs. “They don’t speak English.”
“What do they speak?” Neves asks.
“I don’t know,” Felicia responds shyly. “Some Latin language. Not French or Spanish – but one of the similar ones.”
“I speak Portuguese,” Neves offers. “Could you give me their contact info so I can check?”
“I’m not close enough to them to have that. Maybe ask Mandy.”
“Well, thanks for the help.” Neves grumbles.
She goes to the bathroom afterwards, before they gather their things and head out.
“Are we going back to your place, Skylar? I think now we just ate,” Imani says lightly. “Maybe we can relax a bit, take a break.”
Neves throws her arm around Skylar. “Ooh, can we have a movie night?”
“Did you just invite yourself to stay the night?” Skylar quirks a brow.
“I invited us,” Neves corrects. She opens her mouth again, before gaping.
Then, she gasps. “Did you guys see that?”
“What?”
“The shadow!”
“There’s a bunch of people here, including us.” Millie points out.
“No -”
“AHHHH!!”
They barely get out of the way as a woman races through. She knocks Millie’s tripod down and as Millie scrambles to get it, only to have it snatched away.
“Hey-”
Millie jerks back as twin blackholes stare back at her.
“Millie!” Imani drags her back while Skylar lunges.
Skylar barely ducks as talon like nails swipe at her. She rips part of the ghoul’s colonial style costume.
“Party City bitch.” She scoffs haughtily.
The ghoul hisses and as she raises Millie’s tripod over her head, a bright red bag knocks into her head. The ghoul falters for a moment and Skylar ducks out of the way.
Neves swipes her leg out, catching the bag strap on her ankle as Rocky runs in.
“How the fuck did you find us?” Skylar grunts.
Rocky ignores her as the ghoul swings Millie’s tripod again. Rocky easily catches it and wrenches it out of her hands. She raises the tripod stick like a bat and Millie throws out her hand instinctively.
“No!”
Rocky frowns and the ghoul speeds away, gliding across the sidewalk.
“Our evidence was on there. I found something interesting,” Millie sighs. “Felicia was eyeing us closely at the time. I’m 90 percent sure she had it covered it up afterwards.”
“So, we can’t lose this evidence.” Imani clarifies.
“I repeat,” Skylar says to Rocky. “How did you find us?”
“I knew you would be in the neighborhood,” Rocky rolls her eyes.
“No, but this exact spot-”
“Sorry, would you have preferred to get whacked?”
Skylar sighs. “No.”
She shoves Rocky’s bag at her and stomps over to Neves’ side. Neves pets her head and Skylar rolls her eyes.
“Your place?” Imani asks Skylar hopefully.
“My place,” Skylar says dully.
Rocky is quiet as they enter Skylar’s apartment.
She wanders around aimlessly, until Skylar huffs. “Rukhsana, just tell me what you need.”
“Your place looks different from what I expected.”
“Yeah, well tastes change,” Skylar says blandly. “Water?”
Millie and Neves tell Rocky about their visit to the diner.
“So, the two main suspects are Mandy and Felicia?” Rocky asks when they’re done.
“To be fair, they’re the only people we’ve encountered.” Millie frowns. “Also, I think more Felicia than Mandy. Mandy is trying to solve the case.”
“That’s putting it generously,” Skylar huffs.
“She did help us a bit,” Neves argues.
“I pulled this off her. Maybe see if you can get something out of this,” Skylar hands Imani the piece of fabric.
“It’s polyester, not surprising,” Imani murmurs. “In case it wasn’t clear, what we’re dealing with isn’t a ghoul at all, but someone dressing up as one.”
“Yeah, poorly,” Skylar says, scrolling through her phone. “Wait – here’s an actual update on the story at the diner. 35-year-old Caleb Janson, a stockbroker from the Upper West Side.”
“Charming,” Rocky rolls her eyes.
“Janson was sent to the hospital after collapsing almost immediately following an exchanged kiss with an unidentified female,” Skylar reads.
“Hm. Any mention of the ghoul?” Imani questions.
“Nope. It’s likely the restaurant got to them first – don’t want any bad ghost PR. Anyways, Janson’s dining companion was Thomas Wallerton Jr., a media executive who resides on Long Island.”
“So, what hospital is Janson at?” Millie questions eagerly.
“We’re not breaking into a hospital,” Rocky shuts her down curtly. “Some of us have jobs to keep.”
“Wallerton’s office is probably high security too,” Neves groans.
“Yeah but look – his wife runs her own café in Great Neck,” Skylar says.
***
Despite well-intentioned plans, the next morning finds the group in disarray at Penn Station.
“What part of get here by 9 am do you not understand?!”
“First of all – some of us came a longer distance than others.”
“Well, you knew that beforehand.”
“Some of our trains had to stop and take the stupid shuttle because they were doing weekend repairs!”
“Yeah, duh, you should have prepared for that too.”
“We had to walk from Herald’s Square!”
“First time in the city? Want an I Heart NY hat to commemorate your stay?”
“If you’re offering, why not?”
Once they finally get on the train, they slide into a six-seater and Neves tosses her backpack in the sixth seat.
“Alright, what’ve we got so far?” She claps her hands before wincing as someone glares.
“Suspects 1 and 2 – Mandy and Felicia. Hear me out – Mandy more so than Felicia. Mandy has more of a motive and was clearly resentful. We’re not sure why she even called us in to help,” Imani reports.
“I don’t know how they’re connected…yet, but the Wallertons are fishy.” Skylar said.
“How so?”
“I did some late-night scrolling…you know how it goes. Anyways, Thomas Wallerton Jr. is the son of Thomas Wallerton, this real estate mogul and internet personality,”
“Oh, I should have expected that connection,” Rocky sighs. “I’ve worked with his stepmother before. Post-partum training – she wouldn’t stop talking about the new nanny the whole time. Apparently, she made them get a manny because she didn’t want her husband’s eyes to stray while she was pregnant.”
“Did it work?”
“How would I know? Probably not though. The whole reason she wanted the manny so badly was because he cheated on her while with his second wife.”
“Wait – hold up,” Imani waves her hand. “This couldn’t have been more than four years ago.”
“Three.”
“Okay, but Thomas Wallerton Jr. is a media executive, right? He’s mid-twenties at the youngest. Are they half siblings?”
“Yep. She’s his third wife, and she’s only thirty-two, so yeah. The first wife had the sons, the second wife had Samantha. Her son was the youngest – he hasn’t been publicly introduced yet. Anyways, Wallerton Sr. doesn’t keep a wife over thirty-five.”
“Yes, this is all very juicy, but let’s not forget, the victim was Caleb Janson,” Skylar reminds them. “Thomas Wallerton Jr. was with him – perhaps he and his family were involved in some way. But before we waste time, we must find a connection to Caleb Janson.”
“You were the one who wanted us to all trek out to fucking Long Island to meet Thomas Wallerton Jr.’s wife.” Rocky accuses.
“I did,” Skylar says shamelessly before leaning back.
“Hey, hey, no gatekeeping here,” Neves wags her finger.
“You want spoilers?”
“Always,” Neves rolls her eyes.
“Okay, so Helga Wallerton’s maiden name is Helga Janson. I looked her up after we read the original article about her husband and Caleb Janson.”
“I’m surprised the article didn’t list the connection,” Imani says.
“Perhaps because her name is now Wallerton, people didn’t realize.” Millie replies.
“Do we know anything about Helga?” Imani returns to Skylar then.
“I found out this news on a single article about Thomas Wallerton Jr’s wedding to her.” Skylar answers. “It was more of a fashion blogger most likely pitched by the PR department of the brand she wore. It led me down this rabbit hole, but the rabbit hole wasn’t as deep as I thought. So, we need to go check it out.”
Helga Wallerton runs a posh café called The Cheese Trap with rose arches and faux marble tables.
They arrive during the lunch rush. Skylar gets a mac n’ cheese. Imani gets a croque monsieur, while Neves and Millie both get some classic grilled cheese and tomato soup.
Rocky huffs. “This place isn’t halal. You think they’ll be mad if I eat my own food?”
“Their fault for not having anything you can eat,” Neves shrugs.
“Look at that ooze,” Imani comments with delight as she lifts half her sandwich.
Millie grimaces a bit as she tries to find space in the corner.
“You wanna switch?” Neves asks.
“No,” Millie says before feeling a tension by her head.
“Your beanie’s snagged,” Imani tells her.
Millie ducks out of her beanie before turning to pry it off the picture frame.
Inside it is a pretty blonde woman in a newspaper article.
“Elsa Janson takes New York by storm,” She reads.
Then, under it, The Swedish darling is the latest in a string of Scandinavian beauties to grace Manhattan catwalks this season.
“Is there a date?” Imani questions.
“It’s from 1990.”
“Hmm,” Imani frowns. “Yes, that adds up. She was everywhere between…around 1989 and the early 1990s. She gained attention in her first fashion week. Paris Fall 1989. She came to the States in 1990, fairly anticipated by the fashion community after her growing popularity in Europe. She was relevant for a few more years after that, and then she left to have her baby. Her husband – a producer – had a highly publicized affair with a Broadway star.”
She pauses to take a bite of her sandwich before continuing. “She stayed around for a few more seasons, but her work grew scarcer. I don’t think it was just to take care of the baby either. She pulled quite a few PR stunts and the media called her desperate. Eventually she returned to Sweden. Apparently, she became a local television personality.”
“Impressive.”
They look up to see a brunette woman standing there.
“Hello, pardon the interruption. My sister here could not help but overhear you discussing our mother and came to fetch me.”
“Oh dear. I hope you don’t mind us chatting about her – I work in fashion and obviously I don’t know the whole story, just a few tidbits about her career,” Imani laughs nervously.
“You were right,” Helga smiles mirthlessly. “My mother did leave.”
“Oh, what made you decide to come back, if you don’t mind me asking?” Millie inquires.
“Oh, we didn’t go with her. She left us.”
Millie blushes furiously and ducks her head.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” Helga snorts. “It’s not a crime to assume a mother wouldn’t abandon her children.”
“What’s your name?” Imani asks the sister.
“Freja.”
“Freja goes to college out of state as a PhD candidate. She was doing an internship in the city while staying at our brother’s place.” Helga sighs. “Since his…medical episode, she has been with us.”
“Oh, I am so sorry to hear that,” Imani says sympathetically.
“Whatever,” Freja shrugs. “It’s our sister-in-law who’s really got it bad.”
“Freja, these are café patrons,” Helga scolds before nodding at them. “I sincerely apologize – we got caught up in the amazement learning someone recognized our mother. Please enjoy the rest of your meal.”
She all but drags her sister away.
“Shady?” Neves whispers.
“Shady,” Millie confirms.
“Alright, team,” Skylar drums on her notebook with her pen. “Let’s go over what we just learned.”
“Caleb Janson has a wife. And their mother was a model who had some fame in the ‘90s before abandoning them after their father cheated on her,” Imani sums up.
“Yeah, but it was weird…Freja…” Neves huffs. “She was all, like, the sister-in-law is the one who has it bad or something.”
“Well, Mandy did say he was an asshole that harasses working girls. I think she called him a sleaze too,” Millie recalls.
“Nine out of ten probability he’s a cheater,” Skylar says.
“More like eleven out of ten,” Neves snorts. “The type of shit they make red flag videos about.”
On the way back, Skylar types on her phone furiously before showing them her screen.
“This looks like her, right?”
After looking at the profile, Millie nods.
“That’s definitely her. Freja Janson.”
“I have to wonder,” Imani looks around at their group. “If all of Elsa Janson’s kids are named by her surname, including her eldest, this probably would have been a major warning sign for her, right? About her relationship to her husband?”
“Well, she left so she obviously found out he was a dick sooner or later,” Rocky shrugs.
“It’s also worth noting she only lived here for about nine years. She married her husband after two years in the US, meaning her understanding of English and American customs would have been limited,” Imani explains. “For all we know, perhaps they weren’t even legally married.”
“Wait!” Skylar suddenly jumps up. “Guys look!”
She shows them a photo on Freja’s Instagram – the girl is coated in ashy paint, two vibrant red dots on her neck. She grins a fanged smile, messy red lipstick and red stains down her chin.
And her costume – is the same costume as the ghoul’s.
“Okay, ladies – let’s think about the implications of this,” Imani says.
They return to Skylar’s apartment, hoping to organize their collective conclusions before bringing them up to anyone else.
“Yes – perhaps Freja does resent her brother – but the ghoul had kissed him. Not the other way around, as far as we know,” Imani wrinkles her nose.
“Wait – hold up. We’ve learned a lot about Caleb Janson and others recently. Let’s go over our suspects and who would want to harm Caleb,” Rocky insists.
“Okay, so he’s an adulterer. Most likely. He is known by local waitresses for harassing them, and clearly his sister pities his wife. She did not name the reason, but I think it’s safe for us to connect the dots there,” Skylar says.
She looks around and when the rest of them nod she continues.
“The Janson siblings were abandoned by their mother after their father’s adultery. The sisters were bitter about it. To know their brother was treating his wife like their father had treated their mother…”
“They’re girls’ girls.” Neves smirks. “Good for them.”
“Yeah, but mad enough that they’d almost kill their brother and kiss him?”
“That’s not all,” Imani reveals then. “Remember when I went to the gaudy mirror we saw to fix my makeup?”
“Yeah…” Millie says.
“Helga’s office was next to it. I overheard them again. There’s a child involved. Something about how they can’t let their nephew end up like them at any cost.”
“Hmm…” Skylar flips open her laptop. “That model – Elsa Janson, she was famous, right?”
“Briefly.”
“But the peak of her fame was when she had her kids, right?”
“It was probably just after the peak when she had her first kid. And then she stirred up the media’s curiosity years later when her husband remarried. People started to wonder about her whereabouts,” Imani explains.
Skylar nods, typing loudly and quickly.
“Find anything?” Rocky asks.
“Hmm…the kids weren’t at the wedding because they were at a boarding school.”
“Their father basically got rid of them. Out of sight, out of mind,” Neves grumbles.
“But again, would they kiss and kill their brother over it, even if he sucks and probably triggered their childhood trauma?” Millie asks.
“Something’s still missing.” Skylar huffs. “I’m fairly certain the sisters are involved somehow but there’s another piece.”
“Or they just did not do it.”
“They’re suspicious!”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean they did it. I thought we agreed the severity of the action was a bit much considering he is their brother?”
Imani clears her throat. “Have we had any luck finding Caleb Janson’s wife?”
“Yep,” Neves confirms. Then she checks her phone with a frown before looking up. “Guys, I think I’ve got it.”
***
“I-it’s not me!” Felicia cries.
She flails her free arm as she catches sight of Millie’s camera.
“Oh yeah?” Rocky demands. “Caleb Janson came here at least once a week. He usually comes Friday evenings too, which you work. Except you so conveniently happened to be out the day the ghoul came.”
“F-first of all, I was sick! And even if I were the ghoul, w-what does it matter? He kissed her first – i-it’s his fault!” Felicia cries just as Neves dragged Mandy in.
“Hah!” Mandy yells. “So, it was you.”
“No! I-I’m just saying! I was out sick!” Felicia insists desperately.
Rocky is relentless and Skylar winces as her dirty sneaker rubs against Felicia’s face.
“I’d just ‘fess up already.” She sneers.
“I-I did nothing wrong!” Felicia continues to sob. Snot leaks out of her nostrils and Imani sighs, shaking her head.
“Not to scare anyone, but I’ve seen Rocky beat up her brother in goose shit fields with those sneakers,” Skylar mutters.
Mandy looks sick. “Okay, so she did it. Shouldn’t we, um -”
“Call the authorities?” Skylar says eagerly.
“Ew, no. But, um -”
“She could have killed someone. This is serious,” Millie adds.
“No!” Mandy cries.
“Oh, hit a nerve.” Skylar snorts.
“What part of she could have killed someone don’t you understand.”
“B-because I love her! You can’t take her away because I love her!”
“You really don’t care that she almost killed someone?” Imani asks.
“He harassed all of us,” Mandy says coldly.
“It’s the opposite, actually,” Skylar says then. “You don’t love Felicia, you hate her. You hate Felicia because Felicia is Caleb Janson’s mistress.”
“How did you know that?” Felicia demands now. “I-I mean -”
She places a hand on her hip. “Tell me, what were you doing three years ago?”
“I worked at the sister restaurant for this place,” Freja frowns. “Why does it matter?”
“As a waitress?”
“Yes.”
“You were friends with Freja Janson,” Skylar replies. “Close friends. I saw his thirst comments on all the photos you were in. You started responding to them too about ten or so posts after I found the first one. Also, several years prior to the wedding of Caleb and his wife, all Freja’s posts included her wearing her mother’s ring. However, his wife didn’t get the ring.”
“Three years ago, you went to Hong Kong,” she continues after a pause, checking her phone notes. “Around the same time, Caleb posted about attending a financial conference there. Yet, the thing that really caught my eye was that you were wearing Freja’s ring.”
“For girls that had lost their mother so early, it was her strongest connection to her mother.” Imani murmurs.
“Yes. But it was also worth a fortune – their father didn’t leave them any money, didn’t support them aside from tossing them in boarding school,” Skylar says. “Freja is a PhD student – she’s very passionate about her field, according to her LinkedIn. Which was linked in her Instagram bio, by the way – she cared about her work that much.”
“Attaining that level of education is expensive,” Rocky notes.
“Very,” Skylar says. “Around the same time Freja applied for PhD program, her brother marries the wife. She’s wearing the ring in the wedding photos, meaning, they made her give up the ring. We can confirm by not only this logic but by Freja’s words that she finds her brother distasteful to some extent.”
“Freja was staying with her brother while doing her internship in the city. Skylar is right – when we expressed our sympathies, she did not care about his well-being at all,” Imani recalls. “This must have been a huge financial blow to Freja then – to not only live with the brother who took her ring but also a wife that she makes snide comments about and clearly resents.”
“So, it was Freja?” Mandy asks.
“Nope” Neves smiles, although her answer is curt. “Don’t you want to know why you hate Felicia?”
“No, because that’s a lie -”
A shriek echoes through the diner before the ghoul bursts through the kitchen doors.
Felicia squeaks and dives under a table. As the ghoul swooshes at them, Rocky picks up a chair and throws it at her.
Neves tugs Mandy in the other direction.
The ghoul snorts in frustration, shaking her head before she turns and makes way for Millie. As she rushes at Millie, Skylar runs after her and jumps on her back. The ghoul roars and reaches back. Skylar leans back, her body throwing the ghoul off balance. Rocky catches her and drags her back while Imani slaps a pair of furry handcuffs on the ghoul’s ankles.
“Roller skates,” She snorts.
“Alright, Millie – do the honors.” Skylar calls.
Millie rips off the ghoul’s costume head to reveal –
“Helga Janson!”
“Caleb’s wife, Alicia Janson, said via her lawyer’s statement that her husband Caleb had suffered anaphylactic shock from cross contamination with crab at the diner. But when we went to Helga’s café, their special of the day was Caleb’s Crabcakes,” Imani comments.
“While we were in the diner, I found a potassium syringe in the bathroom. It was in the garbage– with pads and tampons, ugh.” Neves shudders before continuing. “Potassium injections by themselves are not inherently bad. This is because low potassium has its own risks. Hypokalemia to be exact. However, potassium levels that are too high can cause muscle weakness and paralysis. Because Caleb did not have a pre-existing potassium deficiency, this made his potassium levels too high.”
“But I still think this is a bit…extreme,” Felicia murmurs.
“It’s all your fault!” Helga screeches.
“What?!”
“Alicia and Caleb have a child. Caleb had an affair with Felicia. Helga – and presumably Freja – feared Caleb would run off with Felicia and leave Alicia and their nephew destitute,” Skylar says. “Helga couldn’t support all of them while also supporting Freja’s continuing education. They also refused to let their nephew undergo the trauma they went through when their father left. The trauma – of not only abandonment, but financial neglect.”
“Okay, okay Dr. Phil. You’ve got me,” Helga snarls.
“That’s not all though.” Neves holds up her hand. “You couldn’t have known about the potassium thing.”
“I could have Googled it – I mean, I did Google it!”
“No. You didn’t,” Neves folds her arms. “I work in analytical chemistry. I remember one time; a friend of mine ate a banana at least twice a day. I like to crack dark jokes sometimes, so I told her she might get hyperkalemia. Potassium levels too high it could send her into shock.”
“What the fuck, Icy,” Skylar mutters.
“Not my best work, but -”
Mandy jerks back, only to be head locked by Rocky.
“I’m still confused as to how Mandy got involved. And why,” Millie says.
At this, Neves shows rare hesitance.
“Go ahead,” Mandy says bitterly. “I’m going to jail soon anyways, aren’t I?”
“I…do not think we got that far,” Skylar looks around.
“Oh great, I’ve been apprehended by amateurs then,” Mandy throws her hands up.
“WAIT – WHAT?! Why?” Millie asks.
“Why did you make us squeeze into a bar full of sweaty men to watch the Yankees on a Thursday?” Skylar retorts then.
“What does that have to do with anything?!”
Rocky sighs. “Her point is that Mandy was down bad.”
“Mandy had an affair with Helga,” Neves says. “They both played the ghoul at different times. Mandy was the one at the scene of the crime. She was the friend I told that joke to. She got me food from Helga’s place a few times.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I didn’t remember at the time. However, I started to get suspicious after multiple incidents. The potassium syringe at Mandy’s place of work, the lack of interest in solving the case, and so on. I looked further and found old texts where she showed me photos of the food she was bringing to me.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes?” Skylar huffs. “I mean, crimes of passion are one of the most common tropes in both real history and the history of fiction.”
“Did you think be gay do crimes was a joke?” Neves snorts.
“…yes – HEY!”
Millie barely ducks as a knife comes flying her away.
“You – fucking – cunt!” Neves growls as she charges after her.
“I would be right now if not for you!” Mandy sneers.
“Bold of you to say, as you leave me here,” Helga snarls. “Down bad, my ass.”
Mandy snorts. “Bold of you to think your cunt was the one I was thinking of.”
Neves tackles her. “Knew your yapping would get you one day.”
Mandy simply rolls her eyes and pulls out a small bottle.
“For old times’ sake, Izabel, I’ll give you three seconds to get off me. Don’t try to get your friends involved either – I’ll empty this damn bottle in your eye.”
“It’s not worth it, Neves,” Skylar sighs.
“Three.”
Neves jumps off her.
“Good girl -” Mandy starts, relaxing. Skylar plucks up the pepper spray, as Rocky hauls her over her shoulder.
“That’s enough, hm?”
***
“Alright, girls, here’s the best pizza in Rossville.” Millie announces. “And for you, Rocky, the best halal food in Rossville. You like shawarma, right?”
Rocky looks baffled, before she nods. “I do. Thank you, Millie.”
“Of course. Everyone, dig in!”
Imani thanks her as well. Neves gazes distractedly out the window.
“Are you alright, Neves?” Imani finally approaches the elephant in the room.
Neves shrugs. “I’m not happy, y’know. I mean, I know Mandy fucked up, but she was my friend. And -”
She shakes her head. “Never mind.”
“If you’re worried about us judging you, we won’t,” Imani promises as the rest of them nod obediently.
“I don’t really care what the rest of you think,” Neves says rudely before she winces. “I mean -”
She looks at her hands, twisting her ring around her finger.
“It’s okay,” Skylar says. “You don’t have to tell us. Just know we’re here.”
“Exactly,” Imani gives a thumbs up.
Skylar passes Neves a plate of pizza, and she murmurs muitíssimo obrigado quietly, smile small but gentle.
Rocky finishes her bowl around the same time Millie finishes her pizza.
“I can do it.” She says then. “You ready?”
Millie inhales and exhales loudly. “Yep.”
She sets up the tripod, before going to her usual filming setup they’d organized in her living room.
Rocky holds up three fingers. She lowers the third, then the second, then –
“Hey guys! Welcome to Murders with Mills – which is not a murder this week. However, I am excited to announce that me and my friends solved the mystery ourselves – woohoo!”
She pauses with a smile. “Let me tell you how we caught the succubus in Soho.”
K.L. Quan 