Bernie sighed. It was a pity that they wouldn’t be able to do that this year, but they wouldn’t be at the shop; they’d be serving at the Haunted House. She’d definitely miss seeing the little kids come parading by, but what could she do. Mark was paying them well, and they needed the money, although she wasn’t sure that any amount of money could compensate for what she and Libby had seen last night. Whenever she closed her eyes, she could see Amethyst’s head rolling down the stairs. She could still hear the bump, bump, bump that it had made.
Bernie shuddered and tried to think of something else, but she couldn’t. The image was fixed in her mind. She kept wondering how it had been done. The person couldn’t have used a chain saw. That would have made too much noise. So maybe the weapon was an axe. Which meant someone might have found it on the premises. Or someone could have brought it in. It was really impossible to know.
Or someone could have used a fiber-optic laser beam. She’d just seen someone cut glass with one a few weeks ago. Of course, things would be clearer when the coroner did the postmortem. From what Clyde had told her dad, it was scheduled for tomorrow.
She hadn’t looked closely enough to see if the cuts on Amethyst’s neck were smooth or jagged. She’d been too shocked. Of course, if she didn’t want to wait for the PM, she could always ask Marvin to find out. His dad would know since both parts of Amethyst’s body were resting in his funeral home. Bernie took another deep breath and got in the car. Maybe Amber and Libby were right, Bernie thought as she started up her vehicle. Not that she would let either of them know that. Maybe she and Libby shouldn’t go back. Maybe there was some crazy person there, waiting to claim another unsuspecting victim, although that was not what her father thought.
If he did, he would never have allowed them to go back there, no matter what the circumstances. And he was usually right about these kinds of things. Thirty years in law enforcement had given him pretty good instincts. It was a thought Bernie consoled herself with as she drove over to see Felicity Huffer.
The lobby of the Pine Bough Manor was practically deserted when Bernie walked in. There was a small cluster of people gathered around a bulletin board, and she could hear the tinkle of music and someone exhorting everyone to “breath in and out and focus on letting your energy go out into the world.”
A vision of people walking their energy on leashes became lodged in Bernie’s mind. She shook her head to clear it and looked around. There was a fountain over by the far wall, with some goldfish swimming in the pond by the base. The dining room stood off to the right.
Three large ficus trees stood in pots over by a large picture window. The floor was carpeted in a pale green tweed, while the furniture was covered in light tans. As Bernie approached the reception desk, she decided the place reminded her of the lobby of a moderately priced hotel.
The woman at the reception desk smiled when Bernie asked for Felicity, and pointed over to the sofa in the back of the room. “She’s waiting for you,” the woman said. “She’s very excited. In fact, I believe she has something to give you.”
Bernie wondered what it was as she made her way over to the sofa she’d been directed to. At first, she didn’t notice anyone there, and then she saw a small, kid-sized figure dressed in beige. It wasn’t until she got closer that she realized that the figure must be Felicity Huffer. If she were taller than four feet eight, Bernie would have been surprised.
Felicity turned as she heard Bernie approaching and smiled. “You’re Rose’s daughter, aren’t you?” she asked in a voice that seemed way too loud for the body it was coming out of.
Bernie allowed as how she was.
Felicity patted the space next to her. “Sit,” she said.
Bernie sat.
“Your mother was a dear woman. Very refined. And an excellent cook. I understand you and your sister have inherited her ability,” said Felicity.
“I hope so,” Bernie said.
Felicity pointed to the box of cookies Bernie was holding. “Are those for me?”
“Yes. Of course. They’re pumpkin chocolate chip cookies from our shop, A—”
Felicity cut her off. “I know the name. Even though I’m ninety, I haven’t lost my mind. Though there are those that would like to think so,” she finished darkly. “I’m sure the staff will like them. I can’t digest anymore,” she explained. “I exist on a diet of rice, bananas, and bread.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Bernie told her.
Felicity waved her words of sympathy away. “It doesn’t really matter. At my age, everything tastes the same to me, anyway. So my daughter tells me you want to hear about the Peabody School.”
Bernie nodded. She didn’t think she’d ever seen anyone this thin before. It was as if she was looking at an anatomy illustration. For the first time, she actually understood what the term skeletal-looking meant.
“Your mother was heartbroken about what happened to Bessie, you know,” Felicity said.
“She never talked about it to me.”
“I’m not surprised. She was a woman who liked to keep unpleasant things to herself. It was a big tragedy,” Felicity said. “Bessie was a good girl. Studious too. She could have done something with herself. Not like some other people I could name.” Felicity frowned.
“So what happened?” Bernie asked.
“She went out the window. I was the one that found her.” Felicity’s voice trembled slightly. “Terrible. Truly terrible. The windows were very low. Almost French windows. All you’d have to do is lean out of them to fall. One push and there you’d go. It wouldn’t even take much. Of course, some people say she jumped. Others say she fell, that what happened was an accident. But I don’t believe that for a moment. I didn’t then, and I don’t now. I think she was killed. I think she was killed out of spite and jealousy.”
As Bernie leaned forward to better hear what Felicity was saying, she caught Felicity’s musty scent: dry, brittle paper mixed with the aroma of lavender water.
“So you know who killed her?” she asked.
Felicity put her hand up and coughed into it. “I know, but I never told anyone.”
“Why not?”
“Because,” she said when she was done coughing, “I could have lost my job.”
“How so?” Bernie asked.
“Well, I didn’t have any proof, you see. And the girl’s family was very rich, very powerful.” Felicity paused for a moment. “I needed that job. If I had lost it, I don’t think I could have gotten another one. Some people think that Zinnia was the one, but even if she was, it was Amethyst that put her up to it. She was a bad seed. I know it’s not fashionable to use that expression anymore, but it’s true. That’s why she was there, you know. Because her parents were afraid of her. Her mother told me that in one of her visits. Sweet woman, too. Imagine being afraid of your own child. But things happened when Amethyst was around. Bad things.”
“Well, this time something bad happened to Amethyst.”
“So my daughter told me. Which, of course, is why you’re here. You want to know if I can shed any light on the situation.”
“Exactly,” Bernie said.
Felicity laughed. It was more of a rattle, actually. “Of course, I can.”
Bernie waited. Felicity didn’t say anything for a moment.
Then she said, “Do you like games and puzzles?”
“As well as anyone else,” Bernie lied. In reality she didn’t like them at all.
“Are you good at them?”
“Moderately,” Bernie replied. “I’m good at crossword puzzles.”
Felicity made a dismissive noise. “I’m talking about a real puzzle.”
And she reached behind her and presented Bernie with a brown paper bag. It was crinkled and splotched with grease here and there. This brown paper bag, Bernie thought, had seen better days. It didn’t smell too great, either. It smelled as if it had been storing things that Bernie didn’t want to think about.
“Well, look inside,” Fel
icity snapped.
Bernie did, with a great deal of circumspection.
“Take everything in there out,” Felicity ordered.
Bernie reached in gingerly and pulled out an old View-Master and a wooden puzzle box that was covered with smudge marks.
“Thank you,” Bernie said, not knowing what else to do.
“Take them with you,” Felicity instructed. “And on your way out, see Odella at the reception desk, and tell her it’s time for my nap.”
“What are they?” Bernie asked, nodding toward the items that had been in the bag.
Felicity looked at her with an unmistakable expression of annoyance on her face. “They’re the solution to your problem, of course. I just told you what you wanted to know.”
“I’m sorry, but I must not have been paying attention.”
“The box and the View-Master,” Felicity told her. “The answer is in those. Especially the box. The View-Master not so much.”
“I don’t understand,” Bernie stammered.
“What’s to understand? I just told you. The answer to the question you want me to answer is in the bag. Solve the puzzle and you’ll find it.”
“What puzzle?” Bernie asked. She was at a total loss.
“The one in the bag,” Felicity snapped. “Honestly. These days people expect you to do all their work for them. When I was younger, we had to figure things out for ourselves. Now go. Go.”
Chapter 6
Sean looked at the items Bernie held out to him. She put them on the table in front of him.
“Interesting,” he said, picking up the View-Master. “I used to have one of these when I was a kid.” He held it up to the light. “Have you looked at the pictures?” he asked.
Bernie nodded. “When I got in the car. They’re all pictures of the Peabody School.”
When Sean was done, he put the View-Master down and picked up the wooden box. He studied it for a moment. “I haven’t seen a puzzle box like this in years.” He played with it for a moment, then put that down as well.
“So what do you think?” Bernie asked her dad when he went back to sipping his coffee.
“Felicity could be playing a joke,” he mused. “It would amuse her to think that I was spending my time over these things. That woman always was a pain in the ass, not to mention being a real nut job.”
“So why did you send me there?”
Sean gave a slight shrug. “I thought she might have mellowed. Evidently, I was wrong.”
“Do you think there’s anything in what she gave me that will help?”
“I’ll play around with the puzzle box for a while, but I don’t think there’s going to be anything in there.” He sighed. “Boy, that woman can hold a grudge.”
“What do you mean?”
“She never forgave me for marrying your mom.”
“But why?” Bernie couldn’t believe someone wouldn’t like her dad.
“Felicity was your mom’s babysitter at one time. She was quite attached to her—probably too attached—if you get my meaning. And she disapproved of me. She didn’t think I was good enough for your mom. I don’t know if anyone would have been. She thought your mom deserved better then being a policeman’s wife. And maybe she did. I thought she would have forgotten about that by now, but evidently, she hasn’t.” Sean frowned. “Oh well. On to Plan B.”
“And what is Plan B?”
Sean looked at his daughter. “Can’t you guess?”
“Find out who had a motive for killing Amethyst?”
Sean beamed. “Exactly.” He always felt good when he’d managed to teach something to his children.
It was going to be a long list, Bernie thought as she went into her room to change into her Halloween costume for the Haunted House. Today she was going to go as a witch. Of course, the bottom of witches’ dresses traditionally didn’t have ruffles lined in pink, but so be it. She wasn’t going to be wearing the kind of homespun cloth witches in thirteenth-century Europe would wear. It would be way too scratchy.
Libby was waiting for her sister downstairs. She and Amber had already packed everything and were in the middle of loading the van.
“Now be careful,” Amber warned when Bernie appeared. Libby closed the doors of the vehicle. “Here,” Amber said, pressing two small medallions into Libby’s and Bernie’s hands. “This is for just in case.”
Libby looked down at the silver hand with an eye drawn on the palm. “Just in case what?”
“It’s to ward off the evil eye,” Amber explained.
“There is no such thing as an evil eye,” Libby said. “That’s just a superstition.”
Amber gave her a reproachful look. “Don’t you know what happens in movies when the hero or heroine refuses to wear the protective amulet?”
“They get chopped up into hamburger,” Bernie replied.
“Exactly,” Amber said.
“Fine,” said Libby, as she put the amulet around her neck. “See. Feel better now?”
Amber nodded.
Libby shook her head as she drove down the street. She liked Amber, but there were some things about her she just couldn’t understand—like her fondness for horror movies. “What did dad say when you showed him the bag?” Libby asked as they turned onto Ash Place.
“He said Felicity was always a little crazy. He said that stuff could be her idea of a joke.”
“Lovely,” Libby said. “Are you planning on wearing that hat this evening?”
Bernie patted her hat. “Why? What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s just very large.” Libby could see herself knocking it into the pumpkin pies by accident.
“Witches always wear large hats.”
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never made an actual study of it.”
Bernie glanced appraisingly at her sister. “You should get in costume, too, Libby.”
“I don’t like costumes,” Libby said. “You know that.”
“You don’t have to go as the Cowardly Lion.”
“I’m not going as anything,” Libby said firmly. “Besides, it’ll be hard to serve people.”
“Not if you’re wearing the right thing. Come on,” Bernie pleaded. “It’ll be fun.”
“No,” Libby said as she turned onto the road that led to the Haunted House. “I always feel ridiculous.”
“For Halloween night, you can go as…” Bernie paused for a moment while she thought. “I’ve got it. Fruit of the Loom tighty whities.”
“That’s it,” Libby yelped.
“I’m kidding.”
“No, you’re not.”
“You have to admit it would be funny.”
“Not to me.”
“We’ll get you a nice costume,” Bernie told her soothingly. “Something sexy.”
“I don’t want my boobs hanging out.”
“But they’re nice boobs.”
“Yes, they are,” Libby agreed. Marvin thought so, too. She just didn’t think it was appropriate to show them off when she was serving food.
“We’ll do funky.” Bernie snapped her fingers. “Wait. I know. You can come as Esmeralda’s ghost. That would be really freaky.”
“I’ll see.” Libby demurred. She reached over and turned on the radio, signaling that she didn’t want to discuss dressing up anymore.
Ten minutes later they were at the school. Libby parked as close as possible to the entrance that led to the kitchen.
“Loading and unloading are the parts of this job that I hate the most,” Bernie grumbled.
“Tell me about it,” Libby agreed as she lifted a carton filled with cider out of the back of the van.
It took them about twenty minutes to unload the van and about half an hour to set up. They decked the long tables with the orange and black checkered tablecloths that Libby had found at the dollar store. Then Bernie arranged the decorations: five carved jack-o’-lanterns, pots of mums, and three small candles featuring Casper the Friendly Ghost. She stepped back and looked at the results.
Maybe she should forget about Casper. After all, there weren’t going to be any young children. But then some adults liked cartoony stuff. After another moment of debate, she left the candles on the table.
“You know,” Bernie said as she began laying out the paper cups, napkins, and spoons and forks, “we should have had bobbing for apples.”
“Too messy,” Libby said firmly as she began setting out the waffle irons. “There’d be water all over the floor, and then we’d have to worry about someone slipping.”
“But it would be fun,” Bernie protested.
“Undoubtedly,” Libby said as she began setting up the workstation for the waffles. “But that’s not the issue.”
She could just see it now: someone walking by and slipping on the floor because it was wet, grabbing the table for support, and having the whole thing come down. Then they’d get sued. No. Bobbing for apples was out of the question. She checked her waffle supplies. They had the homemade strawberry and apricot jam, the hot fudge sauce, the apple compote, whipped cream, maple syrup, and strawberries, but no butter. She went through the box again. No. It wasn’t there. She explicitly remembered telling Amber not to forget to pack it.
“Damn,” Libby muttered. She should have checked everything over herself. This was what happened when she got lazy.
“What’s the matter?” Bernie asked.
“Amber forgot the butter.”
“No biggie. I’ll run back and get it,” Bernie told her. She looked at her watch. She had a half hour before they opened. Shouldn’t be a problem at all.
“And bring some of the glazed walnuts while you’re at it,” Libby said. They would go well with the maple syrup.
Bernie nodded, put on her jacket, and hurried out the door. Libby turned back to arranging the cookie bars on the platters she’d brought. She probably should have brought some of their larger serving plates, but these would have to do for the moment. She’d just put one platter down and was busy taking the pumpkin pecan bars out of their Tupperware container when she heard a door slam.
A Catered Halloween Page 5