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    Haunted Hair Nights: The Bad Hair Day Mysteries, #12.5
    Haunted Hair Nights: The Bad Hair Day Mysteries, #12.5
    Haunted Hair Nights: The Bad Hair Day Mysteries, #12.5
    Ebook111 pages3 hours

    Haunted Hair Nights: The Bad Hair Day Mysteries, #12.5

    By Nancy J. Cohen

    4/5

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    About this ebook

    A haunted house turns into reality when hairstylist Marla Vail finds a dead body on the estate grounds in this spooky Halloween cozy mystery novella.

     

    When history teacher Bill Ripari offers his property for a Halloween school haunted house project, hairstylist Marla Vail volunteers to help put the scare factor into the place. She joins her stepdaughter along with other students, parents, and teachers to transform the wooded estate into a creepy attraction. She's busy creating decorations when a splash of red on the estate grounds catches her eye. Upon a closer look, she realizes the dark stain isn't fake blood meant to be part of the scene. The trail leads to the history teacher's dead body.

     

    Worried about the kids, Marla puts on her sleuthing hat to investigate. She discovers that every one of the volunteers present that night had a possible motive. Between slacker students, helicopter parents, unexpected heirs, and a stonewalling school administration, Marla has her hands full in solving the murder and keeping her stepdaughter safe. Can she sift through the suspects and unmask the killer before Halloween fright night turns into reality?

     

    Third Place Winner in the IDA Contest
    Finalist in the IAN Book of the Year Awards
     

    "This standalone novella will keep you flipping pages wondering who done it until the end. For those of us who don't want bad dreams for Halloween, this entry into the Bad Hair Day series is an excellent alternative." Reader by Night

     

    "This is a good cozy mystery that can be enjoyed by young adults on up. It was a pleasure to read this story." Readers' Favorite

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherOrange Grove Press
    Release dateJul 14, 2018
    ISBN9780997003833
    Haunted Hair Nights: The Bad Hair Day Mysteries, #12.5
    Author

    Nancy J. Cohen

    Nancy J. Cohen writes the Bad Hair Day Mysteries featuring South Florida hairstylist Marla Vail. Titles in this series have been named Best Cozy Mystery by Suspense Magazine, won the Readers’ Favorite Book Awards and the RONE Award, placed first in the Chanticleer International Book Awards and third in the Arizona Literary Awards. Her nonfiction titles, Writing the Cozy Mystery and A Bad Hair Day Cookbook, have earned gold medals in the FAPA President’s Book Awards and the Royal Palm Literary Awards, First Place in the IAN Book of the Year Awards and the Topshelf Magazine Book Awards. Writing the Cozy Mystery was also an Agatha Award Finalist. Nancy’s imaginative romances have proven popular with fans as well. These books have won the HOLT Medallion and Best Book in Romantic SciFi/Fantasy at The Romance Reviews. A featured speaker at libraries, conferences, and community events, Nancy is listed in Contemporary Authors, Poets & Writers, and Who’s Who in U.S. Writers, Editors, & Poets. She is a past president of Florida Romance Writers and the Florida Chapter of Mystery Writers of America. When not busy writing, Nancy enjoys reading, fine dining, cruising, and visiting Disney World.

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      Book preview

      Haunted Hair Nights - Nancy J. Cohen

      HAUNTED HAIR NIGHTS

      Copyright © 2016 by Nancy J. Cohen

      Published by Orange Grove Press

      Printed in the United States of America

      Digital ISBN: 978-0-9970038-3-3

      Print ISBN: 978-0-9970038-4-0

      Cover Design by Boulevard Photografica

      Interior Design by www.formatting4U.com

      This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

      All rights reserved. This book is licensed for your personal use only. No part of this work may be used, reproduced, stored in an information retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without prior written consent by the author. Any usage of the text, except for brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews, without the author’s permission is a violation of copyright.

      Any use of this publication to train generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.

      ––––––––

      OGP FULL PRINT LOGO BLACK 300dpi CMYK.jpg

      Chapter One

      I don’t know why I let you talk me into helping your class plan a haunted house for Halloween, Marla said, her gaze focused on the road. Dense trees lined the pothole-riddled street as she drove down a narrow two-lane drive barely lit by sparse streetlamps. Twilight had descended, and she didn’t relish returning this way in the dark. Who would live in this remote location west of Fort Lauderdale and nearly at the Everglades?

      Brianna glanced at her with an eager expression. You’ll enjoy tonight, Marla. I’m counting on you to fix the mannequins’ hair so they look scary.

      The high schooler had forsaken her usual ponytail to wear her dark brown hair in soft curls. Marla wondered if she were trying to impress someone in particular. Brianna hadn’t mentioned any boys to her and Dalton, but Marla had overheard her in conversation with friends. The name Andy popped up often.

      Dalton hadn’t noticed, thank goodness. Her husband had enough trouble accepting his fifteen-year-old daughter nearing college age. Worrying about the young men she might be attracting would send him into the stratosphere.

      I’ll do my best, Marla replied. But as much as I like to experiment on the mannequin heads in my salon, I’m not sure how I can contribute to your class project.

      Any help will be appreciated.

      Marla heard the petulant note in her stepdaughter’s voice. She’d been a reluctant volunteer. Parenting didn’t come naturally to her, and since marrying Dalton, she hadn’t rushed into school-related activities like other moms. Coming tonight was a big concession on her part, but she’d wanted to please her new family.

      And it was a good thing she had come, considering this place’s isolated location. Who picked this site? Do you really think the parents from your school would drive their kids all the way out here?

      Mr. Ripari offered it to us. Although he’s never lived there, the house has been in his family since the 1940s.

      He’s your history teacher, right?

      Brianna nodded. This location is creepy. It’ll be perfect.

      Oh, yeah, maybe if you’re in a slasher movie. Marla didn’t have a good feeling about their adventure. She wondered why Dalton, a homicide detective, had given his approval.

      A number of other cars were parked in a trampled grass lot to the side of the house. Bright lights beckoned to them from inside the two-story residence as Marla pulled into a vacant space. She shut down the ignition and waited for the headlights to switch off.

      As she emerged into the warm October air, she wondered if they’d get the promised cold front in time for Halloween. She stepped carefully toward the sprawling house, not wishing to encounter any fire ants in her low-heeled sandals. An enormous tree shaded this side of the place. Judging from its thick trunk, the thing must be hundreds of years old.

      Look at that, she said to Brianna, who made a game of identifying trees in nature parks with her dad. Can you believe how far those branches spread?

      It’s a kapok tree, Brianna replied in a superior tone. It’s so cool that Mr. Ripari is letting us use this property for our fundraiser. The house looks downright spooky in this setting.

      Marla admired the old Florida architecture as she climbed a short flight of creaky wooden steps onto a wraparound covered porch. The jalousie-type windows at this level were partially secured with crisscrossed boards, poor protection against hurricanes. This place would cost a fortune to bring up to code. Why did the history teacher keep the property if he couldn’t maintain it?

      Brianna scampered ahead and banged open the front door. Marla followed, a sea of faces glancing her way as she stepped inside. The teen called out a greeting to kids she knew and then seemed to recollect Marla’s presence. She turned to introduce her.

      Marla would never remember everyone’s names. A dozen people must have been present, all occupied with sorting through a ton of supplies. The gang of busy workers had materials strewn everywhere. Fake cobwebs, rubber spiders, bony skeletons, glow sticks, and other goods covered several work tables, while cartons cluttered the floor. Sheet-covered furniture lent an authenticity to the scene, as did grimy chandeliers.

      Hi, I’m Bill Ripari, said a broad-chested man with spiky black hair and eyeglasses. He wore a friendly smile and a sheen of sweat on his forehead.

      Nice to meet you. Marla shook his hand. It’s generous of you to offer your property for the haunted house.

      Might as well get some use out of the old girl. She’s been deserted for years.

      Such a shame. I imagine this place was beautiful in its heyday.

      He drew her aside and lowered his voice. I’m hoping to preserve the house as a piece of our region’s history.

      You’ve applied to get it on the state’s register of historic homes?

      Actually, I’m in talks with a company that owns a popular theme park in Orlando. They’re looking for a property to the south.

      You mean to sell the estate then?

      Don’t worry; any offer has to come with the agreement to renovate this house authentic to the time period. I’d like to see it reopened as a living history museum.

      When was the original purchase? she asked, realizing some of Dalton’s interest in history must have rubbed off on her.

      My grandfather bought the territory in 1942. He built this house on an agricultural tract. In the late 1950s, he leased the acreage to folks who turned it into a pioneer theme park, with the caveat that the house be preserved. The park closed in 1964. At that time, my dad tore down the tourist attractions and converted the original house into a restaurant. It remained in business until he died. The place has been closed ever since then.

      And you hung onto it all this time?

      I knew the value of the land would increase. I own much of the woods out here as well as the house. It will be perfect for the Orlando company’s planned expansion, as long as they honor my wishes.

      It sounds like a good compromise, if they don’t tear down these woods in the process. And I’m not sure we need any thrill rides out this way. You can take an airboat in the Everglades for that experience.

      He guffawed. I like you, lady. I’m thinking more like a recreated village from the past.

      That would work.

      I think so. The history teacher glanced at a tall, lanky fellow in a gray uniform who lugged a bucket along with a handful of Styrofoam. "Mr. Lynch, please don’t

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