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It was late in the day and I was about ready to check out of my motel when there was a soft knock at the door. When I opened it, a petite, young, blonde stood there in a conservative business-style suit. She looked familiar, but I couldn't place where I had seen her face.
"You were at the party," she said as she stepped into the room. "You were death, weren't you?"
I didn't answer, and she continued, "I thought you might be the kidnapper," she said, "but after you brushed me off I went back to trolling the crowd."
"You were the toga lady," I said softly.
"And a private detective," she said with a smile. "I grew up in this town and I knew that those girls didn't run away."
"But you were looking for a man," I said.
She said nothing, but her face told me everything. "So was I," I said. "I was looking for someone who called themselves Jack O'Lantern. But when the women took that weird turnip upstairs, I followed them."
"So was I," she said haltingly, "... looking for Jack O'Lantern." She smiled at me and said, "But I speak Gaelic... learned it from my grandmother."
"And? ..." I said.
"And the Gaelic word for lamp is lóchrann," she said, "so the Jack O'Lantern kidnapper was Jack O'Lochrin. I figured he was a cousin or weird uncle or something who only came out when he could be disguised, like at Halloween."
"But you didn't know the kidnappings had been going on for two hundred years," I said.
She shrugged her shoulders indicating I was right. Then, after a long pause she asked softly, "Did you kill them?"
"I killed Jack," I answered. "Without him, they shriveled up." She shuddered slightly. "They were some form of succubi," I said, "but they depended on the power held in that turnip."
She looked confused. "You were there," I said. "You heard them say they were going to bring Jack O'Lantern-- Jack O'Lochrin by your reckoning-- to life. The power in that turnip, whatever it was, somehow got much greater on Halloween... and evidently even greater when they put a fiery ember in it. Its power probably helped them seduce-- or whatever-- a young girl. She would go willingly with them back to their bedroom museum. That's where they did their succubus thing and sucked the life out of them."
"So it's over," she said softly.
"It's over," I said. "The O'Lochrin sisters or whatever their names might have been are dead. The turnip is smashed and broken. It's all over."
"Not quite ALL over," she said unbuttoning her jacket. She again smiled at me and said, "I believe I offered you a blow job." As she slid her skirt down to the floor, she added. "And I think you are up to much more than that before morning."
I called the motel office and extended my stay.
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END OF STORY
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- COMMENTS
flowerGRL94over 4 years agoThe story had a Halloween vibe to it that enjoyed. The discussion of the detective with the librarian did not fit the rest of the story and it was useless. Some explanations appear rushed and don't appear naturally, they come across as exposition.
Anonymousover 4 years agoNot many have the talent for a compelling short detective story but you obviously do. I am delighted to have read this tale and I look forward to reading your other works. Good luck in the contest. I can easily see you as a novel or novella writer. I am trying my best not to come across as a sycophant but I appear to be failing miserably. Cheers and thanks again.
