The Town's Annual Festival Has a Dark Secret | Part 1
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The news van pulls into the only open parking spot left on the town square.

When the sliding door on the side opens, it splits the letters of the TV station in half. WCKD becomes WC. "That's what they call bathrooms in Europe, I hear," a short, older gentleman says as he steps off the sidewalk and approaches the news van. "I'm sorry?" A tall woman in her late 30s replies from just inside the van. She leans out, her hands on the doorframe, her back hunched over.

"Mayor Gantry?" "That's me," the older gentleman says with a broad smile. "Miss Alighieri?" "A pleasure to meet you," Dana Alighieri says, offering her hand from the van. "Call me Dana." "Let me help you out," Mayor Gantry says. He takes Dana's hand, shakes it briefly, then helps the woman out of the van and onto the asphalt. "Thank you," Dana says, then straightens up and looks around.

She nods with appreciation at the quaint little town she finds herself in. Lovely, just lovely. Then she turns and looks down at the mayor, being a good four inches taller than him. What was that you were saying about Europe?

Oh, the WC, Mayor Gantry says, and points at the side of the van where the WC is prominently displayed. Water closet. That's what they call bathrooms in Europe, I hear. Never been myself. Too much work around Colesville. Gotta keep the fires burning, if you know what I mean. You'd be surprised how well I do know what you mean, Dana says. She turns back to the van and leans her head in.

Bring the rig quick, Locke. I want you to do a brief run-through of the town's features, then try to get some color interviews before the festivities start. Oh, the festivities started yesterday, Mayor Gantry says. I hope that isn't a problem. Yesterday? Dana asks, returning her attention to the mayor. I thought they began on the 30th. Yes. Mayor Gantry responds puzzled. And today is the 31st. Halloween. Is it now? Dana says.

She eases past the mayor and wraps her knuckles on the driver's window. It slowly rolls down and a scrunch-faced man with huge mutton chop sideburns leans out. What? He says with a snarl. We're a day late, Virgil. She says calmly as if nothing was amiss. Traffic! Virgil says, then leans back into the van and rolls the window back up. Dana turns and grins at the mayor. Traffic! She says with a shrug.

The mayor smiles, but it's a very confused smile. "Well, um, there is still plenty happening today and tonight," Mayor Gantry says. "And tomorrow as well, right?" Dana asks, her head swiveling back and forth as she returns to observing the town square. "Oh, um, of course," Mayor Gantry responds. "But most only stay for Halloween." "The town does still celebrate Hallowmas though, yes?" Dana asks.

That is kinda why we're here, to get a look at the lesser-known aspect of the season. "Polymus is mostly for locals," Mayor Gantry says. "A visitor or two will be around during the day, but by evening it is just us Colesvillites." "Just you Colesvillites," Dana echoes as she rubs her hands together. "Well, this year you'll have a Dana Elagary and her crew to document it for you."

"Yes, about that part," Mayor Gantry begins to say, but is cut off by a blood-curdling scream from the gazebo set in the middle of the perfectly trimmed grass in the center of the square. Dana snaps her fingers, and a short, squat man with a handlebar mustache hops out of the van with a camera rig on his shoulder. He races off to the gazebo without a word from Dana.

"Gotta get that footage," Dana says. "It's just Carly setting up the PA system," Mayor Gantry says, laughing. "Perfect," Dana says. "Now, where can a girl get a steaming cup of black coffee and freshen up?" "That'd be Millie's for the coffee," Mayor Gantry says. "Or if you'd prefer to freshen up first, I can show you to the Phoenix Inn."

Mrs. Holstetter is thrilled to have a celebrity such as you stay at her little spot. "A celebrity?" Dana laughs. "I didn't know Colesville would get WCKD all the way up here in the north." The mayor fidgets and a smile weakens. "That's all right," Dana says, letting the mayor off the hook. "We're a local station with a lot of reach, but we aren't everywhere."

"Well, we're just honored that someone wants to take notice of us," Mayor Gantry says. "You get tourists though, right?" Dana asks. "Lamb's for the slaughter?" The mayor looks taken aback, then he laughs again and gives Dana a big smile. "I get what you're saying," Mayor Gantry says. "Without the tourists, we wouldn't be able to fund our little festival."

in more ways than one, I suppose," Dana says, then claps her hands together. "I say coffee first, then freshen up." "Well, all right then. You'll follow me. I'll show you the way to the best coffee in New England." He leans in conspiratorially as he and Dana move onto the sidewalk. "I have my own booth in the corner, reserved for the mayor." "Oh, how delightful," Dana says. "I get to have breakfast with a local VIP.

"One of the perks of the job," Mayor Gantry says. "Can't wait to hear about the other perks," Dana says. "Other perks?" Mayor Gantry asks. "You said the booth was one of the perks," Dana responds. "I can't wait to hear what the others are." "Oh, I see, yes," Mayor Gantry says. "Unfortunately, the rest of the perks are not as exciting as having a corner booth at Millie's."

"Come now, Mayor," Dana says. "An important man like you must be granted a few luxuries here and there to help ease the burden of responsibility placed upon you. I think we all know how small towns like this run." "I'm not sure I like the implications, Miss Allegary," Mayor Gantry replies, his voice a bit chilly. "Now, Mayor, call me Dana, I insist." "Yes, well, uh, Dana," Mayor Gantry says.

"The town of Colesville is on the up and up. No municipal shenanigans afoot here. We do things by the book, and if the book doesn't have the answer, then we always err on the fair and square side." "Err on the fair and square side," Dana says. "That could be a nice title. I'll have to workshop it a bit, but I see potential."

Glad I could help, Mayor Gantry says. Just allowing me and my crew a behind-the-scenes peek into Colesville annual festivities is help enough, Dana says. They stop in front of a small cafe. A bright red and white awning hangs over the front door with the words, Millie's Place, in old-time cursive written across it.

"Let me show you to the, uh, VIP section, Miss Allegari," Mayor Gantry says as he opens the door and gestures for Dana to enter the cafe. "After you, of course." "Such a gentleman," Dana says. She enters the cafe and looks about as Mayor Gantry squeezes in behind her so the door doesn't bump him on the ass. "Lovely, just lovely," Dana says. She points to the booth in the back corner. "Is that yours, Mayor?"

"It is," Mayor Gantry says, and eases around the taller woman. "I'll show you the way." The mayor makes a direct beeline for the booth, his head nodding at the townsfolk who are busy eating their breakfasts. Everyone smiles and nods back at the mayor, then their eyes turn to Dana. Dana takes her time and studies the faces that look at her.

The wattage of her grin amps up considerably, and she makes a point of angling her path so her hip touches each table as she passes. "Hello." "Hi." "Hello there. Good morning," she says to the tables as she slowly makes her way to the mayor's booth. "I'll introduce you to some folks after breakfast," Mayor Gantry says. He makes another gentlemanly gesture, this time toward the bench with its back to the door. "Please, have a seat, Miss Elgarry."

"If you don't start calling me Dana, I'll begin to think you're insulting me on purpose, Mayor," Dana says. The mayor looks shocked and places a hand to his chest. "I am so sorry. That is not my intention," Mayor Gantry says. "I was just brought up to be polite that way, but it appears I've been a little over polite. Dana, it is."

Thank you, Dana says, and takes a seat so she is facing the whole cafe. Slash DNS today to get 10% off your first month. That's BetterHelp, H-E-L-P dot com slash DNS. Mayor Gantry looks a little frazzled. He glances down at the bench seat he'd indicated for Dana to take, then looks over at the bench seat she actually took. Are you alright, Mayor? Dana asks.

"I usually face the door," Mayor Gantry says. "So I can see who comes and goes and give everyone a friendly wave." "That's wonderful of you," Dana says and picks up a menu. "Hmm, what to have, what to have." "Yes, well, um, it's sort of tradition here in Millies," Mayor Gantry continues. "The mayor faces the door and greets folks as they come and go." "Yes, you said that," Dana says and sets the menu down.

"I am going to have the full harvest and a whole pot of coffee. I am starving." "Right, a fine choice," Mayor Gantry says. "But that is quite a large breakfast. Mostly only the miners order it." "The miners? I thought the mine was closed," Dana says. She cranes her neck so she can look past the still-standing mayor. "Now, where's a waitress? If I don't get my coffee soon, I'll turn into a monster." "Yes, um, true.

"The mine is closed," Mayor Gantry says. "But there are a few men who are still working there to help make sure the shafts don't go to ruin." "That's what Viagra is for," Dana says and laughs. When the mayor frowns at her, she shakes her head.

The confusion and uncertainty on the mayor's face makes Dana laugh again. "Do you need me to move?" Dana asks. "Is that the problem?" "I, uh, well..."

"I'm not trying to be rude, but..." the mayor replies. "Of course," Dana says, and scoots out of the booth. She stands and towers over the diminutive mayor. Then she mimics the gesture the mayor performed just moments earlier. "Please have a seat, Mr. Mayor." Mayor Gantry looks even more confused, but he nods a few times, then eases between Dana and the table to get to the bench seat.

He has to avert his face to the side not to get an eyeful of Dana's chest. With a satisfied sigh, he sits down and clasps his hands together, then looks up at Dana. "Thank you," he says. "Like I said, it's tradition, and a lovely tradition it is," Dana says, and takes the seat the mayor had originally indicated for her to take. "Oh, mayor, you were being chivalrous. This seat is much more comfortable.

"I suppose because it doesn't have your ass in it all the time." "Pardon?" Mayor Gantry asks, startled. "I said this seat is more comfortable." Dana replies. "Probably because you sit on that side all the time. I'm guessing you don't have many guests during breakfast?" "Oh yes, uh, I mean, no." Mayor Gantry says. "Guest's not by the table, but don't usually sit down. Everyone is busy and has somewhere to be, something to do."

"Especially during festival time, I suppose," Dana says. "But I see a wedding ring. Doesn't your wife join you?" "Oh, this," Mayor Gantry says and fingers the band on his left finger. "My wife passed away several years ago." "I am sorry to hear that," Dana says. She reaches across the table and takes the mayor's hands in hers. "That must have been hard. How long ago was it?" "24 years," Mayor Gantry says.

"The same year I became mayor of Colesville. Sometimes life teaches you to take the good with the, well, bad." "Hard to celebrate a win like that when you're dealing with such a loss, I am sure," Dana says and pulls her hands back. "But I am curious about something." "Yes, and what's that?" Mayor Gantry asks as he raises a hand and gets a waitress's attention. "Most widowers move their rings to the right hand after a year or so," Dana says.

"But you kept yours on the left. May I ask why?" "I suppose if I was interested in meeting someone else, I'd move it," Mayor Gantry answers. "But my heart has known only one true love." "Only one?" Dana asks. "Yes, ma'am," Mayor Gantry says as a woman in her late middle age walks up, an apron on over a simple blouse and a long skirt. "Hello, Millie," "Mayor," the woman says. "You have a guess?"

"Yes I do," Mayor Gantry says. "Milly, this is Dana Alighieri. She and her crew are here to do a news story on our little festivities." "Is that so?" Millie replies. She fixes a stony gaze on Dana. "And why is that?" "Now Millie," Mayor Gantry says.

"No, no, it's fine," Dana says, waving the mayor off. "I know how small towns can be. A flashy stranger like me looks like trouble the second I set foot on the sidewalk. I've been doing this for a very long time, so it's not my first time. You didn't answer my question," Millie says. The mayor clears his throat and picks up a menu. "We're both going to have coffee," Mayor Gantry begins. "Hold on, Mayor," Dana says.

Let me answer the question before we put in our order. It'd be rude not to." The mayor slowly closes his menu and looks back and forth between Dana and Millie with growing apprehension. "I was born in a small village," Dana says. "Grew up there, but life took me in a different direction, so I left. But I have always had an affinity for small towns and the hardworking folks that live in them."

So I try to tell their stories as often as I can. And where do you tell these stories, if I may ask? Milly asks anyway. Miss Allegari, I mean, Dana, is a reporter with WCKD. Mayor Gantry says. Haven't heard of it. Milly says. It's not in New England. Dana says. We're from down south. Down south? Milly asks. Where exactly? South of here, that's for sure. Dana says with a laugh.

Then she picks up her menu, opens it, and looks straight at Millie. "I'll have the full harvest and black coffee. Leave the pot if you don't mind. That's a lot of food," Millie says without writing Dana's order down. "I'm a lot of woman," Dana says, her eyes still on Millie. The two women stare at each other for a full minute before Millie turns to the mayor.

The usual, Mayor? Milly asks. Not today, Milly. Mayor Gantry says and glances quickly at Dana, then back to Milly. Just coffee and maybe a scone. A scone? Milly asks. You do know what day it is, don't you? I do, Milly. Mayor Gantry replies, his voice getting tight. But with a guest joining me, I think coffee and a scone is best. I have the distinct feeling I'm missing something. Dana interjects.

Not to be too nosy, but it is kind of my job. What's your usual, Mayor?" Mayor Gantry looks from Dana to Milly, back to Dana, back to Milly, then sighs. "Milly makes an amazing blood sausage," Mayor Gantry finally says. "I have that and scrambled eggs. On the second day of the festivities, though, I skip the eggs and go for a double portion of blood sausage."

"Except today you're having a scone," Millie says with contempt. "Don't break tradition because of me," Dana says. "You know what? I'll have a side of blood sausage with my full harvest." "With? You want more food?" Millie asks. "Unless my money is no good here," Dana says. "Oh no, miss. I mean, uh, Dana. This is on me," Mayor Gantry says.

"I wouldn't think of it," Dana says. "Plus, I have an expense account, which gives me an idea." Dana stands and turns to the rest of the cafe. "Hello folks, I'm Dana Alighieri from WCKD," she announces. "And breakfast is on me." The diners stare at her for a couple of seconds, then a few lift their coffee cups in salute as a few nod a weak thanks before going back to their meals and their private conversations.

"Not exactly the response I was expecting," Dana says as she sits back down. "You're a stranger," Millie says. "I'll be back with the coffee." Then she's gone from the booth and hurrying back behind the counter to the kitchen, leaving a whiff of her contempt behind. "I must apologize for Millie," Mayor Gantry says. "She's had a rough couple of years and hasn't been as enthusiastic as the rest of us come festival time." "Oh dear, what happened?" Dana asks.

"I'm sorry?" Mayor Gantry responds. "You said she's had it rough the last couple of years," Dana says. "Like how?" "Oh, that's not for me to say," Mayor Gantry replies. "You don't need to go into full details, but a little nugget wouldn't hurt," Dana says. "I am here to catch not just the flavor of the festivities, but the lives that make it all happen." Mayor Gantry swallows hard and looks about.

Millie is still back in the kitchen, her voice echoing out into the dining room as she calls out orders. "Well, to be honest, she and her man were having troubles," Mayor Gantry says. He leans across the table. Dana leans in too. "He liked to drink, right?" Dana says. "Was it a messy divorce?" "Unfortunately, no," Mayor Gantry says. "Unfortunately?" Dana asks, surprised.

Most people try to avoid a messy divorce. "No, I mean there was no divorce," Mayor Gantry explains. "One night they had a fight and he left. He's a minor now." Dana waits for the mayor to finish. When he doesn't, she leans back. "Is that all?" Dana asks. "He became a minor and now they're split up?" The mayor nods sadly. "I'm afraid so." Dana glances over her shoulder toward the kitchen and the sound of Millie's voice. "Poor woman.

Dana says, then returns her attention to the mayor. Mayor Gantry says, Dana asks. Millie says, suddenly at Dana's elbow.

She sets down two mugs. The one she places in front of the mayor has the words "Best Gosh Darn Mayor" written in block letters on it. The one she sets in front of Dana has two chips on the rim and the handle is cracked, looking like it'll break right off the moment Dana picks it up. Millie pours coffee into the mayor's mug, then she sets the pot down in the middle of the table and walks away. "Again, I do have to apologize for her behavior," Mayor Gantry says.

"No need, no need," Dana responds as she pours coffee into the questionable mug. "Like you said, she's had a rough couple of years." They sip coffee for a bit in silence. A couple of diners come by to pass pleasantries with the mayor, but none of them pay much attention to Dana before they walk off to get their days started. "Am I missing something, or are there only locals in here?" Dana asks. "Where are all the tourists?"

"Oh, I'm sure they're around," Mayor Gantry says. "Sometimes they leave early." "On Halloween? That's strange," Dana says. The mayor shrugs and smiles. Dana waits for some explanation. But just like the half story about Millie's man, he doesn't elaborate.

"Well, I can get plenty of interviews with locals then," Dana says. "Here you go," a different waitress says as she steps up to the table, her arms lined and loaded with plates of food. "One full harvest." The young waitress places a plate of steak, eggs, ash browns, and toast down in front of Dana. Then she shifts her weight and sets a plate of pancakes down, followed by a bowl of fruit, and finally a side plate with six huge sausages stacked in a pyramid.

"You weren't kidding, Mayor," Dana says as she picks up her fork and smiles at the bounty before her. "This is a lot of food." The waitress sets two plates of sausages in front of the mayor. She takes a step back, looking nervous. "Can I get you two anything else?" she asks. "Your name, sweetheart," Dana says. The waitress, young and innocent looking, shoots a look over her shoulder toward the kitchen. "I'm, uh," the waitress stammers.

"Louise?" Dana asks. The waitress' eyes go wide. "It's on your name tag," Dana says as she stuffs her mouth full of pancakes. "I was just playing with you." The mayor and the waitress share a look, then the mayor laughs. "Thank you, Louise," Mayor Gantry says. "I believe we are set for now." "Okay, great," Louise says and hurries off. Dana devours the pancakes, then pushes the empty plate to the side.

She attacks the steak and eggs like she'll never eat again. "You were hungry," Mayor Gantry says. "That should impress Millie some. She hates it when folks over-order and don't finish everything." "I've never had that problem," Dana says, her mouth busy chewing steak and eggs. "I always eat what I order." She grins at the mayor and he grins back. Dana can see the look on his face and she laughs.

"Yeah, I know, I know," she says, and sets her fork down as she finishes chewing her food. After a swallow, she adds, "Not very ladylike, I get it, but sometimes the hunger just takes over and I have to devour what's in front of me." She stabs a fork at the mayor's untouched blood sausages. "Speaking of," she says, "get to it, mayor. You have tradition to uphold." "Of course," Mayor Gantry says, and picks up his fork and knife.

He slices the sausages into perfect little medallions, then begins to eat. Dana laughs some more as she stabs one of her sausages. "Ah, Mayor, you gotta really dig in," Dana says, and takes a huge bite of the speared sausage. "Life is short, you know." "Shorter for some more than others," Mayor Gantry says after chewing his bite. "How do you mean?" Dana asks, finishing off the sausage before going back to her steak and eggs.

"Oh, I was just thinking of my wife," he replies. "The anniversary of her death is tomorrow." "On Halimus?" Dana asks, her eyebrows shooting up. "That's called burying the lead, Mayor." She finishes chewing, downs her mug of coffee, refills it, then settles back in her seat.

"I had no idea how personal this festival must feel to you each year," Dana says. "Tell me about it if you don't mind. Of course, I understand if it's too painful or too personal, but I'd love to hear your story. There are no cameras here, so this'll be off the record." "You don't need to hear about me," Mayor Gantry says. "That was a long time ago, and you're here for the town, not little old me."

"Fool!" Millie barks as she appears at Dana's elbow again. Dana casually turns her head and looks up at the woman. "Enjoying this great coffee while we have a little conversation break," Dana says. "Don't you worry, ma'am. I'll have these plates polished clean by the next time you come by." She downs her coffee again, refills the mug, then holds out the pot. "Well, after you get us a fresh one of these, that is," Dana says. Millie doesn't look at the pot.

Her eyes are on Dana. Then she glances down at the pile of sausages that's one short. "You already ate one," Millie says, surprised. "How do you feel?" "I'm sorry?" Dana asks, still holding the coffee pot out. "I asked you how you like it," Millie says. "That's not what you said." Dana responds and shrugs. "But I do have to say it was delicious. I'm a big fan of blood sausage. And I do have to say yours is one of the finest I've ever tasted."

"Got a certain zing to it. Is that smoked paprika? I'll get this filled for you," Millie says without answering the question. "You need anything else, Mayor?" "No, Millie, thank you," Mayor Gantry says. Millie walks off and Dana sets her mug back. "We can talk later about your wife," Dana says. "I should finish this fine food before she gets back. I did promise." And Dana does just that.

She tears into what's left on her plates and has almost every bite gone by the time Millie returns with a fresh pot. "You lied," Millie says, setting the pot in the middle of the table. Dana scoops up the two bites of hash browns left and stuffs them into her mouth. "Not anymore," Dana says and smiles wide, showing hash browns smeared across her top teeth. Millie frowns and walks off.

"You have an interesting way with people," Mayor Gantry says, then takes a few more bites of his sausage. "In my line of work, you have to keep people on their toes," Dana says. "That's how I get the best stories." "I see," Mayor Gantry says. "No, you don't, but I appreciate you being polite," Dana says. She leans back, pats her belly, then scoots out of the booth and stands up. "Gonna go pay the tab."

"Miss Allegari, you really don't need-" Mayor Gantry starts. "Dana, and it's my pleasure, Mayor. Be right back." Dana leaves the mayor and walks casually to the register by the door. She pulls out her wallet and slips a credit card from out of a pocket, then taps it on the counter by the register as she waits. It takes a few minutes, but finally Louise comes by. "I'm sorry, but we haven't totaled all the meals up yet."

Louise says. "It'll be a few minutes. How about you charge me what you think the total will be and add 25% for a margin of error, then another 30% on top of that for the wonderful service?" Dana says and sticks the card out at Louise. "Okay." Louise replies. She slides a calculator out from under the counter and rapidly adds up number after number. Then she blinks at the total and looks up at Dana.

"This is a big bill, ma'am. Are you sure?" "Of course I am," Dana says. "I'm a fan of big bills." She leans over the counter at Louise and whispers, "Especially when they come due." Louise frowns then takes the card and runs it. She prints out the receipt, hands it, and a pen to Dana, and watches as Dana signs it, then adds even more for the tip.

"Get yourself something nice," Dana says, then slides her card into her wallet and walks back to the mayor's booth. "Ready, Mayor? I think it's freshen-up time." The mayor blinks and gulps down his coffee then stands up in a hurry. "Of course, of course," he says. "You didn't finish your sausages," Dana says. The mayor looks down at the table and the few sausage medallions left on his plate. "Oh, yes, well, I'm full," he says.

"Wouldn't want to upset Millie now, would we?" Dana says. "Well, no, I guess we wouldn't," Mayor Gantry says with a nervous chuckle. He leans over and forks the last few medallions into his mouth, then stands and chews quickly. Once he swallows, he holds out a hand and says, "After you, Dana." "Thank you, Mayor," Dana says, and leads the way out of the diner. It's a short walk to the Phoenix Inn,

"Do you have bags?" Mayor Gantry asks as they approach the inn. "In the van," Dana says. "I can have someone fetch them for you," Mayor Gantry says. "No need," Dana replies. "Locke knows what to do." Mayor Gantry frowns but doesn't press the issue. "Well, here we are," he says as they stand at the bottom of the steps that lead up to a grand porch set on a gorgeous three-story Victorian home. "The Phoenix Inn."

I stayed at a Phoenix Inn once, Dana says. I believe it was in Tulsa. Could have been Toledo, though. Uh, those are quite a distance apart, Mayor Gantry says. You have no idea, Dana replies. But that was a run-down hotel chain. This lovely place is just cute as a bug and twice as quaint. We're proud of it, Mayor Gantry says, and leads Dana up the porch steps. It's a historic landmark, you know.

"Oh? How so?" Dana asks, just as the front door opens. "Well, this must be our celebrity guest," an older, tall, thin woman says as she smiles at Dana. She looks like a severe schoolmistress who has found no peace in retirement. "I'm Mrs. Holstetter, and I am simply delighted to be your host for the festival." Before Dana can respond, a sharp whistle rings out.

Everyone on the porch turns to see Locke standing across the square on the grass, staring directly at Dana. "Are we good, Locke?" Dana calls out. "We're good," Locke responds. Folks walking about look confused by the shouting, and a few put some distance between themselves and Locke. "No hiccups?" Dana asks. "None," Locke says. "It'll go off without a hitch." "Wonderful." Dana replies then turns back to Mrs. Holstetter.

"My apologies, Mrs. Holstetter. Just a little broadcast business." "How exciting," Mrs. Holstetter says. Dana smiles wide as she catches the lack of sincerity in the woman's voice. "Do you have a moment to give me a tour of your beautiful establishment?" Dana asks. "I'm sure you're too busy, being a woman running her own business, so I understand if now is not a good time."

"Oh dear me, Miss Allegari," Mrs. Holstetter says. "I made sure to have time to show you the phoenix." She leans around Dana and smiles out at Locke, who has already turned around and is walking toward the news van. "Will your cameraman be joining us?" "Not right now," Dana says, and leans to so she blocks Mrs. Holstetter's view of the news van. "We'll grab footage after I know what we need. Maybe we can get a few minutes with you on camera later?"

"How exciting," Mrs. Holstetter says without meaning it. "I'll leave you two to your tour," Mayor Gantry says. "I have town business to attend to." "Of course, Mayor," Dana says. "Perhaps we can catch up for dinner later before the night's festivities begin." "I am going to be awfully busy, but I think I can make that happen," Mayor Gantry says. "I'll meet you at your booth," Dana says. "Say, around seven? Or is that too late?"

"Oh no, seven is fine," Mayor Gantry says. "But we do have other restaurants, you know." "Does Millie's not serve dinner?" Dana asks. "No, it does," Mayor Gantry begins to say. "Great," Dana interrupts. "I think Millie and I hit it off, and I'd love to keep that rapport going." Mayor Gantry frowns, looks at Mrs. Halstetter, looks back to Dana, and shrugs.

I'll see you there at seven then, Mayor Gantry says. It'll have to be a short dinner though, I'm afraid to say. My festival kickoff speech is at 8.30 sharp.

Dana responds, "Yes, well, this being Halloween and all, I have a special speech planned." Mayor Gantry says, "The mayor's duties never end." "So true," Mrs. Holstetter says. "Have a wonderful day, Mayor. Don't you worry, I'll take good care of Miss Alighieri here." "Please, call me Dana," Dana says.

"I just couldn't, dear," Mrs. Holstetter says. "I'm old-fashioned that way." "Of course," Dana says, and ups the wattage of her grin. "Now, I just can't wait to see your wonderful establishment." "Do you have bags?" Mrs. Holstetter asks. "In the van," Dana says. "Oh, I'll have Thomas fetch them," Mrs. Holstetter says and clasps her hands. "Thomas!"

"That really isn't necessary," Dana says. "Nonsense," Mrs. Holstetter replies. "Thomas!" "No, really, there's no need," Dana says and points to the square. "There goes the van." The news van passes by and Dana gives a wave to Locke, who is in the passenger seat. He frowns and gives her a half-hearted wave back. "Oh my, what bad timing," Mrs. Holstetter says. "Where are they headed to, if I may ask?"

"The old mines," Dana says. "You know, with the tragic history of those mines, they're just perfect for a little color." "Color?" Mrs. Holstetter asks. "Footage to spice the story up," Dana says. "Add a little more than just me talking into the camera. Tragedy and Halloween go perfect together." "Well, I'm glad our town's tragedies can help spice things up for you," Mrs. Holstetter says. "Every story needs a little color.

"I'm sorry, have I offended you?" Dana asks. "Nonsense," Mrs. Holstetter says with a wave of her hand. "Ignore this old woman. I've lived here all my life, so sometimes I get set in my thinking." "I understand completely," Dana says and nods at the inn's front door. "Can I have that tour now?" "It would be my pleasure," Mrs. Holstetter says and steps aside for Dana to enter the inn.

As Dana crosses the threshold, Mrs. Holstetter steps to the edge of the porch and watches the news van drive off. Dana glances over her shoulder and catches this. She also catches the silent interaction Mrs. Holstetter has with the gentleman dressed in coveralls standing at the edge of the grass. She nods, he nods, then he hurries off to a beat-up pickup truck parked by the curb with the town's seal emblazoned on the rusty door.

The truck roars to life and races out of the square, headed in the same direction as the news van. "Oh, no need to wait for me, dear," Mrs. Holstetter says when she turns to see Dana watching her. "Go on in, go on in." Dana nods and walks all the way into the inn. She pauses at the main desk and smiles. "This piece has to be hundreds of years old," Dana says as she runs her fingers along the smooth, shiny wood of the inn's tall check-in desk.

"Early colonial, yes?" "Very early colonial," Mrs. Holstetter says. "It was my ancestors. I'll have to hear the full story once you give me the tour," Dana says. "What's in here?" Dana moves off from the desk and walks briskly into a sitting room set off to the side of the entry hall. "I usually begin the tour out here, Miss Allegari," Mrs. Holstetter says. "That room I saved for last."

"Why's that?" Dana asks, retreating from the sitting room. "You'll have to wait to find out," Mrs. Holstetter says with a smile that does not even come close to reaching her eyes. "Now, where did Thomas get off to?" Mrs. Holstetter pulls a whistle on a chain from out of the collar of her dress. She places it to her lips and gives a hard blow. No sound comes out. "I'm sorry, but is that a dog whistle?" Dana asks.

Thomas has very good hearing, Mrs. Holstetter says. A door behind and to the side of the check-in desk bursts open, and an old man dressed in a thick flannel shirt and green dungarees limps out. His eyes are barely visible under the thick eyebrows and even thicker mat of curly white hair that droops down over his face. Thomas, Miss Alighieri here will have her bags delivered later.

Please see that they are placed in her room the moment they arrive, Mrs. Holstetter says. Thomas grunts. Now, none of that, Thomas, Mrs. Holstetter says, then turns to Dana. My apologies. He can be a grumpy cuss sometimes, can he? Dana asks. I didn't understand what he said. Well, then there is nothing to worry about, Mrs. Holstetter says. That is all, Thomas. Be gone now.

Thomas limps past the desk, past the two women, and out onto the front porch where he turns his head up and lets out a long howl. Somewhere in the town, the howl is answered, and Thomas limps down the porch steps and crosses the square as fast as his limp will let him. "'He'll be back,' Mrs. Holstetter says, then gestures to a grand flight of stairs."

"I'll show you the inn and then we'll finish in your room. You can freshen up there. However, I do wish you had your bags." "You really don't need to worry about those," Dana says. "They are fine in the van." "Well, you heard what I said to Thomas," Mrs. Holstetter responds. "I'll have them brought up immediately once you have them in hand." Dana's phone rings and the sound of J.S. Bach's Toccata and Fugue in D minor echoes through the inn.

Dana says and holds up a finger. Dana steps back out onto the porch and answers the call. Dana asks. Locke replies on the other end. Dana asks. Locke says. Dana says. Locke replies.

Any sign of the miners? Dana asks. Not yet, but we haven't gone very deep, Locke says. We're still at the main entrance. I doubt you can reach me once we go inside. We? Virgil is going in with you? Dana asks. He never leaves the van. He said he's curious, Locke says, his voice bored. Which means he smells something ripe.

Probably the miners, if my guess is correct, Dana says. Probably, Locke says. We'll be here a while. I figured that you would be, Dana says. Be careful. Seriously? Locke says with a laugh. You know what I mean, Dana says. She turns to look at Mrs. Holstetter and jumps when she sees the woman standing directly behind her. I have to go. Me too, Locke says. Some local just pulled up in a pickup.

"Cooperate and let things play out how they need to," Dana says. "And be nice." "Nice is my middle name," Locke says and hangs up. "Everything all right?" Mrs. Holstetter asks. "Peachy keen," Dana says. "Now, let's get this show on the road. I'm dying to hear all the history." The tour takes considerably longer than Dana would like, but she patiently listens to each and every story Mrs. Holstetter tells her, oohing and aahing in all the right places.

When they finally reach her room, Dana is ready to pull her hair out. "I'll leave you to freshen up," Mrs. Holstetter says after giving Dana the history of the room. "Bathroom is through that door, fresh towels are hanging on the rack, and the soap is handmade by one of our local artisans." "Lovely," Dana says, "but I can wait until after the tour. I don't want to miss the big finale in that sitting room."

"You won't, don't worry," Mrs. Holstetter says. Then she leans in conspiratorially. "There's some body spritz in the medicine cabinet. I know you've had a long journey getting here." "Thank you," Dana says. "Just meet me in the sitting room when you're fresh," Mrs. Holstetter says and walks out of the room. "Don't be too long now. Big day and bigger evening ahead." As soon as Mrs. Holstetter leaves, Dana gives her pits a quick sniff.

Not fresh, but definitely not stinky. "Bish," Dana mutters and heads to the bathroom. She uses the facilities then washes her hands. As soon as the bar of soap hits the hot water, an odor like rotten meat wafts up at Dana from the sink. "Damn," she says, and carefully brings the soap to her nose. She jerks back and laughs. "Is the local artisan sourcing ingredients from roadkill?" Then she inspects the soap a little closer.

She picks at a spot toward the center until she finds something very interesting. "A fingernail? Really?" Dana muses. "A different kind of roadkill, I guess." Dana laughs and sets the soap down, then thoroughly rinses her hands. Yet no matter how hard she scrubs, that smell of death lingers on her skin. She opens the medicine cabinet and finds the body spritz Mrs. Holstetter said would be there, and also finds a jar of hand cream.

Wary, Dana unscrews the lid from the cream, then immediately screws it back on. "Roadkill is the theme, I see," Dana says. She doesn't even bother with the body spritz and closes the medicine cabinet. Then she fluffs her hair, checks herself in the mirror, and leaves the bathroom. When she reaches the sitting room, Mrs. Holstetter is in a close conversation with Thomas. The moment she walks in, Mrs. Holstetter steps back from Thomas and shoos him away.

He limps past Dana, brushing her shoulder as he walks by. "Everything okay?" Dana asks. "Perfect, why?" Mrs. Holstetter responds. "No reason," Dana says with a shrug. "You looked like you were having a serious conversation." "Nothing to worry yourself over, dear," Mrs. Holstetter says. "Just an old married couple talking as old married couples do." Dana freezes in place.

"Did I say something wrong, dear?" Mrs. Holstetter asks. "Thomas is your husband?" Dana asks. "Of course," Mrs. Holstetter says. "Did I not mention that during our tour?" "No, you skipped that part," Dana says. She looks over her shoulder, but Thomas is gone from sight. She returns her attention to Mrs. Holstetter and brings her grin back up to full power. "Okay, I'm ready for the story."

"Have a seat, dear," Mrs. Holstetter says and indicates a couch by a bay window. Dana nods and takes a seat. Mrs. Holstetter crosses to a small fireplace and leans an arm on the mantle as she looks up at an old portrait hanging on the wall. "This is my great-great-great-great-grandmother Holstetter," Mrs. Holstetter says.

She was one of the founders of Colesville. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but did you say her name was Holstetter too?" Dana asks. "Yes, of course," Mrs. Holstetter says. "But you're married," Dana said. "To Mr. Holstetter, Thomas," Mrs. Holstetter says and nods. "That's right. Um, are you two related somehow?" Dana asks. "I'm trying not to be rude, but I'm sure you understand my confusion."

"I'm sorry, but I don't, dear," Mrs. Holstetter says. "Husbands and wives usually share the same last name, unless you are one of those modern working women who flaunts tradition. Are you one of those, Miss Allegari? Is there a mister back home with a different name?" "No mister anything at home," Dana says. "But could we get back to your name real quick? I just want to make sure I have all the facts right."

"No facts to get right other than the spelling," Mrs. Holstetter says. "It's spelled H-O-L-S-T-E-T-T-E-R. Do you need to write that down?" "I can remember that," Dana says. And before she can continue her inquiry, Mrs. Holstetter continues her story. "Great-grandmother Holstetter helped found Colesville," Mrs. Holstetter says, placing an emphasis on her ancestor's last name.

She was part of the original coven. "I'm sorry, what was that?" Dana asks. "Did you say coven?" "No, dear. I said dozen." Mrs. Holstetter replies and shakes her head. "You must have misheard. I'm sure you're tired from all your traveling." "No, I'm wide awake," Dana says. "But I could have sworn you said coven." "Well, I didn't," Mrs. Holstetter says.

"How about we finish this story later? You should go rest in your room, maybe apply a little more body spritz. It can be so soothing that I find myself wanting to just curl up and take a nap after a spray of it and sleep the day away." "That's a weird thing to say," Dana replies. "And I didn't use the body spritz." "I know," Mrs. Holstetter says. "Perhaps you should."

The two women stare at each other for a minute. Then the phone rings from the check-in desk and Mrs. Holstetter puts a hand to her chest. "If you'll excuse me," Mrs. Holstetter says, "I need to get that. I just can't trust Thomas to answer the phone. Go right ahead," Dana says. As soon as Mrs. Holstetter is gone, Dana takes out her phone and snaps a photo of the portrait above the fireplace. "This just gets better and better," Dana says.

Then she shoots a text to Locke, asking him how it's going at the mines. She waits for a response while also trying to listen to Mrs. Holstetter's conversation from the check-in desk. But the older woman is talking in a hushed tone and Dana can't make out a word. Dana moves closer to the sitting room door, but Mrs. Holstetter's voice goes even quieter when she does. When Dana hears the clack of the phone being hung up, Dana moves back to the couch and retakes her seat.

She glances at her phone, still no response. "Everything alright?" Mrs. Holstetter asks. "I was going to ask you the same thing," Dana replies, putting her phone away. "Just some town business," Mrs. Holstetter says and returns to her spot in front of the fireplace. Now, Grandmother Holstetter was very influential in how the town charter was set up.

She and the rest of the original dozen made sure that this town would be taken care of for generations to come. "How so?" Dana asks. "By ensuring that as long as we all do our civic duty and tend to the town," Mrs. Holstetter answers, "as well as tending to the mines, then all will be well. Like a trust or something." Dana asks. "A trust?" Mrs. Holstetter says.

"You know, like funds set aside that can be invested and grow," Dana says. "That's how many trusts work." "Something like that, yes," Mrs. Holstetter says. "Very much something like that. Can you give me specifics?" Dana asks. "On what, dear?" Mrs. Holstetter replies. "The trust," Dana says. "How it was set up, what the terms were, any stipulations?"

I know trusts tend to have stipulations that have to be followed. Who were the original trustees? All the facts, if you can." "There is no trust, dear," Mrs. Holstetter says. "But you just said that-" Dana begins. "I said it is like that, yes-" Mrs. Holstetter interrupts. "But I did not say it was a trust." "Sorry, I misunderstood," Dana says. "Please continue." The phone rings again.

"I am so sorry," Mrs. Holstetter says. "I'll be right back." Dana watches her go, then gets her phone back out. She tries lock once more, but there's still no response. When Mrs. Holstetter returns the second time, Dana stands up and holds out her hand. Mrs. Holstetter stares at the hand like it's a bloody stump dripping on her antique rug.