Some time later, back at Gull’s Way, the judge’s Halloween party was finally beginning to wind down. Frank Harper, who had stopped by on his way home, sat on the couch in Hardcastle’s den, talking with Mark, Cindy, and the judge.

“They were real JPAC members,” Frank was saying. “But apparently they had turned into rogue agents some time back without the organization realizing it. They discovered a way to channel money confiscated in drug raids and other illegal activities in other countries into their own pockets, and then stash it in coffins that were supposedly carrying the bodies of deceased service personnel killed overseas. The coffins were then shipped back to the United States, where they were able to secretly recover the money. Unfortunately, one coffin filled with money slipped through their fingers somehow, and it was buried with the cash still in it.” Frank looked at Mark and Cindy. “That’s the one you two happened to see them digging up.”

“Well, all I know is, if it wasn’t for Jake telling us where to find those guys, we probably would never have located them again,” Mark commented.

“Jake?” Frank asked.

“Yeah — Jake McKee, the caretaker at the cemetery.”

“What’s he got to do with this?”

“He’s the one who put us on to where those guys were tonight.”

“When was he able to do that?”

“Earlier tonight, when we saw him at his office.”

Frank shook his head. “Mark, that isn’t possible,” he said.

“What do you mean, it isn’t possible?” Mark replied. “We all talked to him earlier this evening.”

“You couldn’t have,” Frank insisted.

“Why not?”

“Because McKee passed away over a month ago. As a matter of fact, he’s buried in that very same cemetery.”

Mark, Cindy and the judge looked at each other. As one they all turned and looked at a cardboard skeleton that was hanging nearby on the wall.

Abruptly Hardcastle cleared his throat and stood up.

“I need to see if I have any vampire coasters left over for next year!” he said. He turned and walked away, making a beeline toward the kitchen.

Cindy got up too.

“I’m going home!” she said. She headed for the front door.

Mark got up as well. “I’ll go with you!” he said. He followed her.

This left Frank all by himself. He looked around.

“Was it something I said?” he mumbled, half to himself.

He shrugged. Noticing an unclaimed cup of punch sitting on the table directly in front of him, he picked it up and took a sip of it.

An expression of extreme distaste spread across his face.

“Whew!” he exclaimed. “That’s the worst punch I’ve ever tasted!”

He put the cup down then got up too, and headed for the door.