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No one really liked the woman anyway. Belle loved to talk about her money, how she had more money than God. Even Buffy, a hunter of demons, knew better than to tempt fate doing that.
She would stand on her porch and shriek at anyone who might get too close to her emerald green lawn. It was her pride and joy, even though it was her poor husband who did all the work. Buffy half expected the old woman to start brandishing a whip or make him work in chains.
As opposed to his wife, Collin was a kind and patient man. He seemed to have accepted his lot in life and moved quietly through it. He would wave to Buffy as she headed off to school or came home.
“I love your lawn, Mr. Drake.” She made the mistake of saying that once when they’d just moved in. He’d brought them a cake and she was keen to return his kindness. Belle swooped down, shrieking at her: to mind her own business, it was her lawn, he was a waste of space, and to go away. Powerful words to shout at someone who killed vampires as her calling. Buffy made sure to steer a wide path around Belle after that and had her friends do the same.
“Hey, Buffy!” Willow shouted up to her and Xander waved.
“Shh!” She gestured wildly to the house next door and hurried to get the front door, ushering them in. “You don’t want to bring the Wrath of Belle down upon you.”
“Her? She doesn’t scare me.”
“Will, she scares me and I’m the Slayer.” She led the way to the living room. “Did you know that last week she called the police on my mom? Said she was talking too loudly on the phone. I’ll be right back.”
Xander looked over at the telephone, sitting on a small table by the couch. “Wow, she must have ears like a…” Xander hesitated, then finished. “…something that has really good hearing.” He sat down looking sheepish, but Willow hugged him.
“It’s okay, Xander, we love you for your youthful boyish enthusiasm.”
He smiled at that and that Buffy had returned with snacks and soda. She set the chips down and passed over the bottles. It was still hot enough here in October to enjoy a cold drink.
“She also claimed that our house was so dilapidated that we were bringing down the house values around us.”
“What? You have one of the nicest homes on the block.”
“And next to hers. She’s not wanted us here since we moved in.” She took the lid off her bottle of soda and looked at her bemused friends. “What?”
Willow held out a bottle to her. “Got a bottle opener?”
“These aren’t twist…? Sorry.” She opened the other two and passed them back. “I can never figure it out, though, why Mr. Drake stays with her. She is always yelling at him, calling him names and just being mean.”
“Throw in drinking and it sounds like my family.” Xander sighed.
“I’m sorry, Xander.” Buffy hugged him hard, releasing him as he began to pound on her back. “I forget my own strength sometimes.”
He wheezed to get his breath back. “It’s okay. So are we going to be patrolling this weekend?”
Buffy smiled at them, happy to have friends who understood and supported her. “Well, according to Angel, demons take Halloween off.”
“Really?”
“That’s what he tells me. Why? Do you know of any hot parties?”
“That I would be invited to? Not likely.” He grabbed a handful of chips and flopped back into the couch.
“I know. What if I do a fast pass and then we can meet up here and watch horror movies…”
“Wouldn’t that be like Santa watching a Christmas special?” Will asked, repressing a burp. “I mean.”
“No, it’ll be fun and I know Mom would love it. She’s addicted to horror movies, but gets scared to watch them alone. Bring a sleeping bag and we’ll make a night of it. The next day is Sunday, so we don’t have to worry about school or anything. We’ll carve pumpkins and hand out candy.”
And so, it was set and Buffy couldn’t be more excited. The truth of the matter, neither could Joyce.
“We should invited Mr. Giles.”
“Why?”
“I’m sure he’d enjoy a party, too.”
“Mom, he’s English. They don’t ‘do’ Halloween.”
“Invite him so there’s at least one person besides me old enough to make conversation with.”
“Old people… I mean, older younger, got it.”
She practically raced out of the house that night, eager to start her patrol and get back before the first guest arrived. Buffy was a bit nervous about Belle, but decided the heck with her. Tonight was going to be fun.
Buffy laughed as a group of kids, all in costume, raced past, then wanted to grab them as they ran up the sidewalk to the Drake House.
“Hey, you kids, wait.”
“It’s all right, Buffy.” Mr. Drake stood there. He was wearing a blood-stained apron and brandishing a razor. “I’m Sweeney Todd!” He was also holding a huge tray of homemade treats. “Happy Halloween!” he called to the children and waved. They helped themselves and ran off towards the next house.
She was amazed, but pleased. At least the old bat let him have tonight off. She waved back and headed out.
“Oh, did someone see the truck that hit me?” Willow groaned from her scrunched down spot on the couch. She sat up and made a face at the table full of sugar treats that they hadn’t entirely demolished. Her feet met something hard and she pushed, then realized she was squashing Xander. “Sorry.”
“No worries. I just can’t wait to tell everyone at school that we slept together last night.” He grunted as she kicked him.
Buffy sat up and stretched. “Coffee?” she mumbled through her yawn. She wasn’t very handy in the kitchen, but even she knew how to turn on the coffee machine.
She stretched and walked to the front porch. She bent over to get the paper and as she was standing up, she glanced over at the Drake House. The entire lawn had been dug up, great chunks of sod out, loamy soil exposed like flesh on bones.
“What the heck…? Hey, Mom?!”
She clutched the paper to her chest and ran back inside. Her mother was just coming down the stairs, closely followed by Giles. He’d stayed so late that her mom had put him up in the guest room.
“Buffy, what’s wrong?”
“The Drakes! Their lawn. Someone ripped it out.”
“What?” She fastened her robe more securely and went out, joined by the others. “Mrs. Drake is not going to be happy.”
“Where is she, anyhow?” Willow had often heard of her, but had yet to see her to date.
“No idea. Maybe she saw this and vapor locked. Goodness knows we could use the quiet,” Joyce said quietly. Buffy smiled in agreement.
They had just started on washing the breakfast dishes when there a brisk knock at their door. The two men there looked tired and beyond caring.
“Mrs. Joyce Summers?” The taller cop read from a pad and glanced up.
“Yes, that would be me.” Joyce stepped forward, Giles not far behind. “Can I help you, Officer?”
“Yes, ma’am, we are investigating the disappearance of Belle Drake, your neighbor. When was the last time you saw her?”
“Yesterday… no, make it the day before. She reported me to you for talking too loudly on our phone.”
“Did you actually see her that day, ma’am… in person?”
Joyce thought hard. “No, I suppose I didn’t.”
“I saw her about two weeks ago,” Buffy spoke up. “She threatened to kill this little girl’s dog. It got sick on the sidewalk by her lawn. Mrs. Drake scared the crap out of her. Her husband intervened and she said he’d better do something or she’d kill him instead.”
“You actually heard her threaten Mr. Drake?”
“I got pretty good hearing.” Buffy was casual about it. “I don’t think she would kill him, though.”
“Why not?” Now the cops were interested.
“Who’d take care of her lawn, then?” She didn’t say how she’d watched him clean up the mess with his favorite shirt and then throw it away as she screamed about what a mess it would make to HER washer. “Or do all the cooking and cleaning? As far as I can tell, the only thing Mrs. Drake was good at was screaming.”
“Buffy.” Giles’s voice was soft.
“It’s true, Giles.” Buffy turned to him and grabbed Willow. “Do you know how many time Mrs. Drake shouted at poor Willow because her color choice clashed with her house.”
“That’s a bit… extreme.”
“Or that the people across the way watered their grass too much, but they were only doing it to spy on what she was doing.”
“So she was paranoid.”
“She was something,” Xander muttered. “She said I smelled bad and looked like trailer trash.” He attempted to smooth out his wrinkled shirt. “I mean, I’ve never even been inside a trailer.”
There were a few more questions and the cops went away.
“Well, if nothing else, at least we won’t have to worry about making too much noise at Thanksgiving,” Joyce said as she studied the house next door. “Still, it was such a lovely yard. Who would have torn it up like that?”
Buffy shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe someone was looking for buried treasure.” She saw Mr. Drake come out of the house, wringing his hands. “I’ll be right back.”
She walked slowly up the sidewalk, stepping about the scattered clumps of grass, eyes half closed, trying to pick up something, anything demon-like. She saw nothing but a ruined lawn and a tired looking little old man.
“Hi, Mr. Drake.”
“Hello, Buffy.”
“I’m sorry about your lawn.”
“I’m just glad Belle isn’t here to see it.”
“No idea where she went?”
“You know how she was. When our phone stopped working, she decided it was next door tampering with the wiretap they’d put on it.”
“Why would they--?”
“Exactly. She stormed out and that’s the last I saw of her. When she wasn’t back for the trick or treaters, I was thrilled. They loved my pumpkin spice cookies so much. Even the police did.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know… I just don’t know… maybe a nice xeriscape”
“What will your wife say when she comes back?”
The smile he gave her spoke volumes. “She’ll just have to… adjust.”
Buffy nodded. “I better get going.”
“Would you like some pumpkin bread for breakfast?” He took a step back towards the front door.
“Um, sure that would be great!”
He was back in a flash and Buffy did have to admit it smelled wonderful. “If you need anything, Mr. Drake, we are here for you.”
“Thank you, sweetheart. We have such nice neighbors.”
Buffy set the bread down on the counter and opened the fridge. Her mother was at the stove cooking bacon and just the smell made her mouth water.
“Bacon, yum!”
“Well, it’s a special treat to have a houseful of guests for breakfast and not having to worry about you-know-who. I saw you talking with Mr. Drake.”
“He didn’t have a clue where she went, but in this town, anything is possible.” She feverishly hoped she wouldn’t be running into Mrs. Drake later tonight. “Mr. Drake sent over some pumpkin bread.”
“Why don’t you slice it up and we will have it with breakfast.”
“’Kay.’ She dug out a knife and paused. “Mom, who is Sweeney Todd?”
“The Demon Barber of Fleet Street?”
“And again I say, huh?”
She laughed. “Sorry. He was a fictional character from Victorian times. He was a barber who would slit the throats of his victims, then send them down to Mrs. Lovett who would grind them into meat pies. It was the perfect crime because the bodies could never be found. No body, no crime.”
Buffy pulled a long grey hair from the bread and made a face. “Eww.” Suddenly things starting making sense in a less than appetizing way.
“What’s wrong?”
“I found a cockroach in the bread,” she lied.
“Better throw it out. We don’t want to be eating someone else’s garbage.”
Buffy couldn’t agree more.