Grease Paint Excerpt Chapters 1-3

Grease Paint Except Chapter 1

Drizzle pattered on the outside of the diner window beside Harper as she picked at her food. Long lines of reflected red light from the neon sign on the other side of the street stretched across the wet road outside. The same reflected light danced crimson across the ginger's pale reflection in the glass. She noted that the stark contrast made her look like a demented clown.

"So, you know what they did?" Tom said as he leaned in. The table groaned under his substantial weight. The bearded fellow wasn't fat, rather, he was the most solidly built of the group. He lifted his coffee with a pause to build anticipation.

"If you don't say that they packed everything up and got the hell out of there, I'm calling bullshit on the whole story," Otto said. He was Tom's opposite, tall and thin. His fidgeting dinged his fork against the edge of the diner-white plate.

Tom laughed. "No, no. They dug up every one of the corpses, all the ones that tuberculosis got that year. Lined them up." He rolled the remaining sausages on his plate to illustrate. "Split every one of their chests open, chop, chop, chop," Tom poked each meat roll in turn, gleaming eyes fixed on Otto. Harper wasn't sure if that gleam stemmed from making everyone squirm, or he just loved sharing the lore that much. "Tore out their hearts and burned them in the blacksmith's forge. Can you imagine? All those hearts cooking and popping like blood-filled popcorn kernels?"

"Bullshit," Ben groaned. Harper's brother was also a redhead, but where she wore her loose waves pulled back, he kept his in tight curls. He gave Tom an elbow.

Harper cringed. If she wanted a horror story she'd go across the street to the theater and watch The Conjuring. She'd probably chicken out and watch the third Iron Man movie instead.

"Are you okay?" Henry said. He reached out and set his hand on Harper's forearm. His expression softened; the touch lingered. "Come on, guys. You know how Harper gets with graphic stuff."

"I'm fine." Harper drew her arm away from Henry's touch. His fingers started to follow, but after a tick, retreated to his club sandwich. While she didn't need Henry's heavy-handed coddling, the truth was that Tom's visualization did churn her stomach a bit.

"Oh, shit," Tom said, realization dawning. He offered an apologetic grin and sipped at his coffee. "Sorry."

"I still say it's bullshit," Ben reiterated.

"He's spot on," Conrad said as he returned to the table. "There's a display here in Shetland's Brook covering the vampire panic. We can stop by there in the morning before we head out if you like? The locals have all sorts of stories about these parts. They've also got a few slices of banana cream left at the counter, Harper."

"Oh!" Harper beamed. She focused her attention on the handsome leader of their little troupe. Conrad and Ben were the same age, two years older than her and not likely to let her forget it. In fact, all the boys were slightly older. She shifted in her seat. "Thanks for checking, I appreciate it."

"Anything for you, Harp." Conrad winked. Her insides fluttered. Henry sighed and filled his mouth with toast dry enough to scrape the gums.

"I don't think we'll have time," Ben said. He shrugged and motioned for the waitress. "Our ride leaves at 6, remember?"

"That puts us at the drop off for 7," Tom confirmed. He wagged a sausage at Ben. "We should've turned in an hour ago."

The table shared a laugh. When the waitress swung by, Ben ordered two slices of banana cream pie, for Harper and himself. "Don't worry, sis, this one's on me."

Harper puffed her cheeks. She wanted to object, but also didn't want to break her meager 'budget.' "Thanks, Ben."

"No problem," Ben said.