“Well I can see where that would make things difficult. It’s kind of childish,” I said. “Do you really think she had anything to do with his death?”
“I don’t know,” she said slowly and looked away for a moment. “Murder is so awful. I can’t imagine what must be going through a person’s head to make them commit a crime like that. But, obviously someone did it and while I can’t say that I really think Sonia is a killer, the way she acted toward him sure does raise questions in my mind.”
“Have you talked to Ethan yet? Did you say anything about this to him?”
“No, I didn’t mention it to him. It seems so silly, really. I probably shouldn’t have even brought it up to you. It’s just so sad that somebody would do such a terrible thing to Fagan and it makes me angry, too. And to be honest, she makes me angry. There’s no reason for her to behave the way she did toward him.”
“Has she expressed any sadness that Fagan is dead?” I asked.
She looked at me and shook her head. “Not a bit. I thought she would have come over here and told me how sorry she was that he died. She knows that we were good friends, as well as employee and employer. But she hasn’t even stopped over here. I bet she hasn’t said anything to his wife, either.”
I nodded. “You would have thought she would have come over and talked to you.”
She nodded again. “That’s what I thought. Listen, Mia, I don’t mean to take up all your time. If you want to take a look around and see if you can find another costume, you go ahead. I probably shouldn’t have brought this up at all, I’m sorry.”
“Oh no, don’t feel sorry about it at all. I know that this is a difficult time for you. Do you know if his wife intends to keep the shop open?”
“She hasn’t brought it up yet,” she said. “On the one hand, I hope she does keep it open. It keeps me in a job, and maybe that’s selfish. But on the other hand, it kind of breaks my heart to be here knowing that Fagan isn’t going to come to work ever again.”
“I understand,” I said. “Let me take a look around the shop and see if I can find something to exchange for the costume.”
I went to a rack of ballerina costumes and began looking through them. They were brightly colored, and they were cute, but I had really had my heart set on the 1950s costume. I thought I could let out the waistband a bit if I wanted to, but I wasn’t a great seamstress, so I didn’t know if I might make a bigger mess of it than it was worth.
There were two more costumes like the one I had on another rack, so I went and held one of them up.
“Those have a tendency to run small,” Gina said from the front counter. “If you got the next size up, it might be fine.”
I nodded. “You know what? I think I’m going to try it on this time.” I chuckled. “If I would have done that to begin with, I might not have had the issues I did with the one I bought.”
“You go on back and try it on then,” she said.
I headed back to the dressing room and passed the open stockroom door. I glanced over my shoulder as another customer came into the shop, and I ducked into the stockroom. There was a small desk set up with a computer on it and some paperwork spread across the top of the desk. I glanced over my shoulder again and then went to it and looked at the paperwork on the desk.
There were invoices and packing slips there, but I didn’t see anything of any interest. I glanced around the storeroom and saw boxes that hadn’t been opened yet and some costumes hanging up. Was there really something in here of any interest? I didn’t know, but I was going to find out. I kept my ears trained toward the open door as Gina spoke to someone about Fagan’s death.
I went around the side of the desk and opened the top drawer. There were only pens, pencils, and other assorted office supplies in it. I closed it quietly and opened the next one. There were hanging files in this one and I started going through them as quickly as I could, trying not to make any sound.
There were more invoices and packing slips in the files and I flipped through them until I found a small notebook in the very last file. I picked it up and thumbed through the pages. At the front of the book, there were numbers added by hand and notes that looked like they pertained to orders. I kept looking through it, and in the back, there were people’s names with phone numbers. Nothing looked interesting, so I put it back and closed the drawer quietly and looked around the room again. There was a long counter with drawers beneath it and I slipped over to that and pulled open the first drawer. It had what looked like pieces of costumes in it, bow ties, wigs, buttons, and sashes. I thought they must have been saved from returned costumes to repair any that came in incomplete or damaged.
I closed that drawer and quickly looked through the rest. There wasn’t anything that made me think it might hold a clue to Fagan’s murder, so I closed the drawers. The bell over the door jingled, and I thought the customer must have left, so I hurried to the door of the stockroom.
“Mia, is that costume going to work?” Gina called as she crossed the shop floor toward the dressing room.
I hurried toward the shop floor and smiled at her, trying to look innocent. “You know what? I think I’m just going to get a refund on the one I brought back. For some reason, this costume just doesn’t look as good on me as I thought it would. I’ll be back in later to see if you have anything else.”
“All right, come back up front and I’ll write up the paperwork.” I hung the costume I was supposed to try on back on the rack and followed her to the front counter.
She wrote up the return and refunded my money and I left wishing I had found something of importance.
Chapter Nine
As I left the costume shop, I passed two more customers coming into the shop. I stood on the sidewalk and looked right and then left. The streets were nearly deserted in this space between the Halloween season and the Christmas season. I looked to my left at the Pumpkin Hollow Book Shop and then behind me at the costume shop. Gina was busy with the customers that had just walked in, so I headed next door.
I pushed open the door and stepped inside, inhaling the scent of cinnamon. There were two other customers in the shop browsing the books on the shelves, and Sonia was sitting on an overstuffed couch in the middle of the room. She had set two armchairs, and a coffee table next to the couch. There were large throw pillows on the couch, inviting the customers to linger awhile and read.
I walked up to her and smiled. “Hello, Sonia,” I said. “It smells wonderful in here.” I removed my coat and tossed it over the back of one of the armchairs.
“Thank you, Mia,” she said, looking up from her book. “I just love the fall weather, so every day I burn a different candle to put me in the mood to read. I have a Christmas cookie scented candle that I’m saving to burn until after Thanksgiving.” She chuckled. “It’s not that I have to be put in the mood to read, mind you. If you want to know the truth, it comes naturally.”
“I hear you,” I said and sat down on the armchair. “I hope you don’t mind if I rest a minute, I’ve been on my feet all day.”
“No, I don’t mind at all. Were you looking for your next book?”
I sat back on the chair. “I’ve got about three chapters left in the romance novel I’ve been reading, so yes. I think it’s about time I picked up another book so I don’t have any time lapse in between. I always feel lost when I’m between books.”
She nodded. “I know exactly what you mean. I don’t know what to do with myself when I don’t have a book to read.”
I glanced to see where the other two customers were and was pleased to see they were in the furthest corner from where we sat. I turned to her. “It sure was a shame what happened to Fagan, wasn’t it?”
She smiled. “I guess it’s a shame when anyone is killed. Especially when it’s a murder.”
“That’s the truth,” I said. “I feel so bad for his wife and everyone that cared about him.”
She nodded. “I can imagine they must be suffering now. It’s a shame, isn�
��t it?”
I nodded. “Do you have any idea what might have happened to him? I would imagine having a shop right next to his that the two of you had a lot of time to talk. Between customers, I mean.”
She was quiet a moment. “Oh, I suppose we did talk from time to time. But honestly, this bookstore keeps me so busy. I’m doing my best to get more new books in. Used books have been my bread-and-butter for a long time, but I’ve always dreamed of owning a regular bookstore selling new books.”
It seemed like she was avoiding the question. “I love bookstores, whether they sell new or used books.” Sonia had a small section where she had brought in bookmarks, blank books, and pens. There are a few small gift items as well, and the shop had always been a nice place to come and visit for a while. Even though she sold mostly used books, she kept the shelves neat and clean.
“Me too. I live for books. So, I’m assuming Ethan is working on finding Fagan’s killer?”
I nodded. “Yes, he is. I hardly get to see him when he’s on a new case.”
“Oh, I bet,” she said, nodding. “Does he have any idea who might have killed him?”
I looked at her, trying to read her thoughts. “You know how he is, he has to keep that kind of thing to himself. But if I know him, he’s got somebody he’s keeping an eye on. I can’t imagine who would kill Fagan, but I know Ethan will bring the guilty party to justice.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” she said. “I’m glad that Pumpkin Hollow has such excellent law enforcement.”
This was getting me nowhere. “So you don’t have any idea what might have happened to Fagan?” I asked. I figured I may as well be direct about it. It felt like we were playing a cat-and-mouse game and I needed answers.
She studied me a moment. “If I had to pick somebody that might have killed him, I would pick his wife. I don’t think they got along very well.”
“Oh? I had no idea. I always thought they had a happy marriage.” I crossed my legs. I was in no hurry to leave. “What makes you say that?”
“There was a day not long ago that he came rushing out of his shop and nearly ran into me. I asked him what the hurry was, and he said he was on his way home because his wife needed him to help her with something. That probably sounds innocent, but it was just two days earlier that the two of them had an argument right out there on the sidewalk in front of his shop. It was after they had closed for the day, and I guess Fagan was leaving for the night. His wife pulled up and jumped out of the car and started yelling at him because he had spent money she had earmarked for some sort of home repairs.”
I took this in. “And they argued right there on the sidewalk?” It didn’t sound like Janna. Fagan, yes, but Janna was more reserved than her husband had been.
She nodded. “Yes, I was surprised. But then, maybe I shouldn’t have been because Fagan was so uncouth. He had very little in the way of manners at all, and I can see where he would just be frivolous with their money and not care what his wife thought about it.”
I really couldn’t understand why she would think he’d be frivolous with his money based on one argument, but maybe there was more.
“Did he ever mention money troubles to you?”
“Well, I suppose I shouldn’t be saying this,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at the customers that were still looking at books on the shelf. She turned back to me. “But when I moved into this shop, he had just opened his shop four months earlier. He told me I had to pay for half of the water bill because these shops used to be one shop, and they never put in a separate water meter. Well, the landlord never told me that. Why would I give him money for the water when that isn’t a part of my contract? I think he needed the money and that’s why he made a big deal about it.”
“So the landlord never even mentioned it to you?”
She shook her head. “No, and when I asked him about it, he said that what was in my contract was in my contract, and the water wasn’t in it. So why should I give Fagan money for a bill he’s responsible for? When he rented his shop, he should have settled everything with the landlord.”
She had a point there. But I could also kind of see Fagan’s point of view. Why should he pay for her water? If it were me, out of goodwill, I would have paid the water bill. But since it wasn’t in the contract, I could see where she didn’t want to be forced to pay it.
“I can see where that might be confusing,” I said to her. “Other than the one argument over the water bill, was there anything else that led you to believe he had money issues or that he had trouble with his wife?”
She looked at me and considered the question for a moment. “Yes, one day a couple of years ago, I saw her out to lunch with another man. They were over at the Ghostly Grins Café. I thought it was odd since it was a couple of days after their twentieth anniversary.”
“Do you know who it was she was with?”
“It was Tom Crandall. Do you know him?”
“Doesn’t he own the pool cleaning service?”
She nodded. “And everybody knows that he’s a loose one. I think he views himself as a Romeo, and he makes the rounds.”
I didn’t know much about Tom Crandall, so I couldn’t comment on that. “Did you ever find out if there was something to it? Maybe they were just friends, and they were having lunch together.”
“I suppose that’s a possibility, but they seemed very interested in one another.” She shrugged. “I guess I really don’t know anything specific. There’s just something about that woman that makes me think she may have had something to do with his death.”
“I hope it wasn’t her, it would be incredibly tragic if it was.”
“You can say that again,” she said. “But I’m sure Ethan will get it sorted out soon.”
“I know he will,” I said. I looked over at the bookshelves. “I think I’m going to go and pick out a book now.”
“All right dear, let me know if you need any help.”
I headed into the shelves of books and began looking through them. Sonia didn’t seem terribly concerned about Fagan’s death and that bothered me somewhat. But you can’t force people to care about others. Maybe she had something where Fagan’s wife was concerned, and maybe she didn’t.
Chapter Ten
“What looks good to you?” Ethan asked me.
I was looking over the menu at the Ghostly Grins Café, trying to decide whether I wanted a zombie salad or a mummy burger. I looked up at him. “I don’t know. I’m starving, and while I’d like to have a salad, I don’t know that it’ll hold me until dinner time.”
“Wait, you would like to have a salad? Is this some kind of new health kick you’re on?”
I shook my head and laughed. “No, believe it or not, people eat salads even when they’re not on a health kick. I just feel like I haven’t been getting enough produce in my diet lately. But I think I’m going to have to go with a burger.” The mummy burger had bacon and jack cheese on it, and it sounded like just the thing I need to get me through the afternoon.
“There’s my girl,” he said looking at his menu again. “I think I’m going to join you in a burger.”
“Mummy or Franken?”
He squinted at the menu. “Franken. It has guacamole on it.”
I closed my menu and put it on the edge of the table, and he did the same, placing it on top of mine. It wasn’t often that Ethan could get away from work while working a case, so I was excited when he dropped by the candy store to pick me up and take me to lunch.
“How are things going?” I asked, lowering my voice. There were a number of customers in the café and I didn’t want anyone to overhear the question.
Before he could answer, our waitress stopped by the table and took our orders. When she left, I looked at him, eyebrows raised.
Reading my mind, he said, “it’s going.”
I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Sure, it’s going. Tell me, Ethan, did you find anything at the crime scene? Some kind of clue that would indicate who
the killer is?”
“Did I find anything? I found a shell casing. Why?”
I shrugged. “There were so many leaves on the ground that I wondered if you were able to get a good look at the area.”
“We spent a lot of time raking through those leaves and searching the ground. Some items had spilled out of Fagan’s pockets, and we found a shell casing. Again, why?”
I sighed and shrugged. “I’m just asking. I might have found something.” I reached into my purse and pulled out the medallion with a tissue so I wouldn’t get fingerprints on it and laid it on the table.
His brow furrowed, and he picked it up and turned it over. “Where did this come from?”
“The crime scene,” I said. “Careful, don’t put fingerprints on it.”
One eyebrow shot up as he looked at me. “So you went back to the crime scene to snoop around?”
I nodded. “Of course I did. What did you expect?” I had completely forgotten about the medallion and I hoped it wouldn’t turn out to be something of importance that I had had in my possession for a few days. There was almost no chance of that, but what if it was?
He shook his head. “I expected nothing less. There were an awful lot of people who had one of these during Pumpkin Hollow Days. It probably shouldn’t be that surprising there was one out there.”
“Except it’s one of the misspelled medallions. There weren’t as many of those handed out.”
He took another look at it. “So it is.” He turned it over again.
“Do you think there are fingerprints on it? Maybe it came out of the killer’s pocket.”
“Or Fagan’s,” he said. “It’s certainly a possibility it came from the killer, and I will run it for prints. But we gave out a lot of these last summer, although not as many of these as the correct ones. Someone could have been out hiking in the woods and accidentally lost it. If I were the killer, and it had my fingerprints on it, that would be my explanation.” He grinned at me.
Caramel Killer: A Pumpkin Hollow Mystery, book 12 Page 5