Read Online The Readaholics and the Gothic Gala by Laura Disilverio - Free Book Online

talking when raised voices drew our attention. They seemed to be coming from under the landing, and even though I leaned over the railing, I couldn’t see who it was. “Now see what you did?” I said to Hart before hurrying down the stairs. He, Lola, and Brooke followed hard on my heels. I heard a clanking noise as we descended, but kept on going.
    Partygoers had drawn back from the couple scowling at each other. Mary Stewart, beautiful and virginal in an embroidered white Victorian nightgown that reeked of “Jane Eyre,” held a woman I didn’t recognize by the arm. She was short, on the chunky side, and wore a glower that was incongruous with her nun outfit.
    â€œLet me go. You have no right.” She tried to jerk her arm away but failed. Mary must have been stronger than she looked, because the woman was no lightweight.
    â€œCan I help?” I asked in a calm voice.
    Mary’s head turned toward me and she gave my attire a reluctantly admiring once-over before saying, “This is Eloise Hufnagle, the woman who has been stalking me.”
    â€œShe stole my book,” Eloise said loudly. “She shouldn’t get away with it.” Her already ruddy face flushed with anger.
    â€œLet go of her arm, ma’am,” Hart said with quiet authority, “and we can discuss this someplace private.”
    â€œThe manager’s office,” I said, catching Wallace Pinnecoose’s eye. He was headed our way; he had an eerie Spidey sense about trouble at his club.
    â€œIn other circumstances, I might find your assumption of authority appealing, Batman,” Mary said, her gaze sliding along Hart’s athletic figure in a way that made me stiffen, “but I’m not turning her loose. She’s been creeping around after me all day. Maybe for weeks.“
    Silently, Hart flipped his badge over his utility belt.
    Mary breathed in on a sharp
ooh
. “You’re a cop. A real crime fighter. Great, she’s all yours. Just keep her away from me. Last time I ran into her, she drenched me with blood. That’s a crime, right? Assault, or at least vandalism? I should have had her arrested.”
    Eloise, who had been struggling to free herself, suddenly stilled, her eyes fixing on something behind us. “What are you doing here—?” she gasped.
    Involuntarily, I turned to see whom she was talking to. Lucas, attracted by the fuss around Mary, was coming toward us, dressed, if I wasn’t mistaken, as the portrait of Dorian Gray. I figured this out because he had a gilt-painted cardboard frame rising like a ruff behind his head. I gave him props for not doing the easy thing and coming as Rochester or a vampire. Allyson Aldringham, dressed in a Red Riding Hood cape, trailed behind him, looking both besotted and unhappy. Merle and Constance Aldringham stood a few feet away, both of them with a stiffness that said they’d been arguing. I was pleased to see I’d been right about the cowled monk being Merle. Constance wore a period dress I thought I recognized from the cover of one of her books. I couldn’t recall the character’s name, although I was darn sure she was a lot younger thanConstance. She shot Allyson and Lucas a look from narrowed eyes and beckoned for her daughter. Allyson’s chin went up a notch, but then she drifted toward her parents. I was pretty sure Lucas didn’t even notice her defection; he was intent on reaching his sister.
    The stranger I thought might be a sailor was watching us while gulping down a mixed drink like he’d been at sea for six months without fluids of any kind. He hadn’t bothered with a costume and seemed to be wearing the same jeans as earlier. He turned away when he noticed me staring at him, snapped his empty glass onto a nearby tray, and melted into the crowd. Weird. He practically knocked into Francesca Bugle, bustling toward us in garnet-colored Victorian garb, saying, “Mary, dear, is