A Catered Halloween

Home > Other > A Catered Halloween > Page 10
A Catered Halloween Page 10

by Isis Crawford


  “That’s what happened with me. For some reason, I thought she was wearing a pleated skirt and a white shirt.”

  “She was so hazy,” Libby said.

  Mark bobbed his head. “Hazy is a good word.”

  Libby finished filling the pitcher and put the cap back on the jug. She didn’t know what to feel: relieved because someone else had seen what she had or dismayed that what she had seen was apparently real.

  “Maybe we both saw an optical illusion,” she said.

  Mark shook his head. “I don’t see how anyone could create something like that.”

  “FX has created some pretty strange stuff in your haunted house.”

  “Yeah. But Bessie Osgood is on a totally different plane.”

  Libby had to agree that she was. “Why are we seeing her?”

  Mark shook his head. “Maybe because we’re here. I don’t think anyone else has seen her.”

  “Curtis and Konrad have a tape of her confessing she killed Amethyst Applegate.”

  “Them.” Mark ran his hand through his hair. “All I could hear was static.”

  “That’s all I could hear, too. The police refused to listen.”

  “Can you blame them?”

  Libby shook her head.

  “Did they tell you I offered them one thousand dollars if they could get her voice on tape? I thought it would be good for the Haunted House. So maybe that’s why they’re hearing things that no one else can.”

  “Could be,” Libby agreed.

  Mark gave Libby a wan smile. “I thought it would be cool to have a real ghost moving around, especially considering that it’s Halloween and I’m running a haunted house, but it’s really not. In fact, it’s kind of upsetting.” He looked at his watch. “Gotta go. I have to find a replacement for Bob Small. I thought I had someone, and he pooped out on me.” He shook his head again. “Talk about upsetting.”

  “You mean Bob Small killing Amethyst?”

  “What do you think I’m talking about?”

  “I thought you might have been referring to finding a replacement.”

  “Hardly.”

  “Do you think he did it?” Libby asked.

  “I’d like to think he didn’t,” Mark said. “After all, if it wasn’t for me giving him that job, maybe he wouldn’t have had the opportunity to do what he did. What is it that they say about the road to hell and good intentions? But I have to assume he did it, and all the tapes in the world aren’t going to make things any different.”

  “I’m not so sure,” Libby said. “Chopping off someone’s head doesn’t seem like something Bob would do.”

  “Who do you know who would do something like that?”

  “No one,” Libby admitted.

  “Exactly,” Mark said.

  “I just can’t see him setting something like this up.”

  “The police think otherwise.”

  “They’ve been wrong before.”

  “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I shouldn’t be so quick to judge. I have to watch myself with that. It’s my besetting sin.” He glanced down at his watch. “Oops,” he said. “I didn’t realize how late it is. You can’t believe how crowded we’ve been since that…thing…with Amethyst.”

  “I can believe it,” Libby said, thinking of what happened at the shop whenever a crime was committed that they were connected to in some way or other. “That’s why I brought extra. I figure we’re going to be swamped.”

  “People are amazing,” Mark said. “Who would have thought?”

  Then he headed out the door, leaving Libby by herself. She got right to work, but try as she might, she couldn’t stop thinking that there was more to Amethyst’s death than she was seeing. Maybe her dad would see something that she wasn’t. She decided she was glad he was coming. Having him look over the crime scene would make her feel better.

  Chapter 12

  Sean went into the Pit and the Pendulum Room with the same attitude he’d brought to every crime scene he’d processed when he’d been the Longely chief of police. With dispassion. He went in without expectations—at least as far as it was possible for a human being to do that.

  The first thing he noticed was that the room was dark enough that it took his eyes a moment to accustom themselves to the low light. According to Mark, everything was the same as it had been the afternoon that Amethyst Applegate died. Sean still couldn’t believe that they had opened this up in such a short time. But that was Lucy for you. Always in a hurry. Always overlooking things.

  He took in his surroundings. The mirrored walls, the platform, the high table draped in a red cloth, the spotlight on the blade, the speed at which the blade swung back and forth—all worked to focus your attention on one central point. The table. Everyone walking in here would automatically be looking at one thing and one thing only. Whoever had set this up had done an excellent job. He turned to Libby.

  “Tell me what you saw.”

  “I already told you,” she protested.

  “I know you did, but I want to hear it again,” Sean said.

  As he looked at his daughters, he thought that neither of them were happy being here. Marvin wasn’t, either. But given the circumstances, who could blame them?

  “It’s simple,” Libby said. “We walked in the room, and we saw this table on the platform, with the blade swinging back and forth.”

  “And then?” Sean prompted.

  “And then I took a couple of steps and saw a headless body on the table, and then I took another step, and that’s when I saw it.”

  “Amethyst’s head?” asked Sean.

  Libby nodded. “It was just sitting there at the top of the stairs. At first, I thought it was part of the exhibit, and then I looked at Mark’s face, and I knew it wasn’t.”

  “How did you know?” asked Sean.

  “I just did. He was staring at it. He had a strange expression on his face,” replied Libby.

  “What kind of strange expression?” asked Sean.

  “I don’t know how to describe it,” Libby said.

  Sean looked at his other daughter. Bernie shook her head.

  “I wasn’t paying attention to him. I was mesmerized by the head,” said Libby. “And then he went up and tapped it with his foot, and it started rolling….”

  “Just like at the Bastille,” Bernie said.

  “I didn’t know whether it was real or not, but then, when it stopped in front of my feet…” Libby shuddered.

  Sean nodded. “And then?”

  “And then I screamed,” said Libby.

  “Did anyone come in?” asked Sean.

  “No,” Bernie said, “because we ran out.”

  “I see,” Sean said as he looked around.

  “Do you need us for anything else?” Bernie asked after a moment had gone by.

  “No,” Sean answered absentmindedly. He was already focused on trying to figure out what had happened. “I just want to stay and walk around a little.”

  “Good,” Libby said. “Then we’ll finish setting up.”

  They turned to go, and Marvin started walking out with them.

  “No, Marvin. You stay here,” Sean instructed.

  “But…,” said Marvin.

  Sean glared at him.

  Marvin’s shoulders slumped. “Fine,” he said.

  “Do me a favor and turn on the lights for me. They’re over in the far corner, hidden behind the cloth panel.”

  Sean watched Marvin fumble around, but after a moment or so, he found the switch. Suddenly, the room was bathed in light.

  “It looks different,” Marvin remarked.

  “It certainly does,” Sean agreed.

  The mirrors looked dirty; the platform was badly made; the steps looked thrown together. Sean slowly walked over to the control panel that was hidden behind the cloth. From that vantage point, he looked across the wall to where the device that sent out the hologram was situated. A person walked in and tripped a circuit that would trigger a digital camera, which
would capture their image and transfer it to a hologram that would make it look as if that person’s head were being cut off.

  Mark had explained it, but Sean hadn’t understood the explanation. Clyde hadn’t, either.

  What had Clyde said? There’s a whole new world out there, Sean, and I don’t want to be part of it. Sean had had to say that he agreed. He turned to Marvin. “Did you understand Mark’s explanation?”

  Marvin shook his head. “I was lost after the second sentence.”

  “Me too,” Sean said gloomily. But then Mark had admitted that he really didn’t understand how it all worked, either.

  “So what do you think happened?” Marvin asked Sean.

  Sean rubbed his hands together. He’d come up with two scenarios. In scenario number one, Bob Small snuck in while Amethyst was lying on the table and cut her head off with a piece of fiber-optic laser wire that he’d taken with him into the ceiling. At least that was the weapon the ME had identified as the cause of death. But then why had she been lying on the table? Why had she stayed still for Bob Small to do this? Why had she agreed to meet Bob Small in the first place?

  More likely, Amethyst walked into the room, and the killer, who was hiding behind the door, took the wire and wrapped it around her neck. After all, if fiber-optic wire could cut through steel, it would definitely cut through flesh and bone. There wouldn’t be any blood, because the high heat of the wire would cauterize the wound. Then the murderer positioned the body the way that Bernie, Libby, and Mark had found it and left. But two questions remained: who killed Amethyst, and why?

  “Are you all right?” Marvin asked.

  Sean was startled. He realized he must have been staring off into space.

  “I’m fine,” he said. “Absolutely fine.”

  “Maybe this place has secret passageways or something like that.”

  “That’s in books.”

  “But it’s possible,” Marvin insisted.

  “Anything is possible,” Sean retorted. In all his thirty odd years on the police force, he’d never come across a secret compartment, much less a secret passageway. “What are you doing?” he asked Marvin as he began tapping on the wall.

  “Looking.”

  Sean was just about to tell him to stop when Mark stuck his head into the room.

  “I hope you guys are finishing up, because we’re going to open the doors to the Haunted House in ten minutes,” he said.

  Sean stood up slowly. “Not a problem. By any chance, do you have the original plans for this place?”

  “I do, but I won’t be able to get them till the a.m.,” replied Mark. “What do you need them for?”

  Sean massaged the small of his back. Getting old sucked. “Just checking to see if there’s a connection between this room and the main house.”

  Mark raised an eyebrow. “Like a secret passageway?”

  Sean shrugged.

  “There isn’t one,” said Mark.

  “How do you know?” Sean asked.

  “Because I went over the original plans of this place with the architect last week,” said Mark. “We’re remodeling this section as soon as the Haunted House closes, and I wanted to make sure we didn’t run into any unpleasant surprises. Nothing like not having a wall where you expect to find one or the other way around.”

  “You must have a lot of rich people bankrolling you,” said Sean.

  “Well, one or two,” Mark allowed. “We’ve been blessed that way. And now I really have to go. If I had known that I was going to have to be here overseeing everything the whole time the Haunted House was open, I would have hired a manager.” And he walked away.

  “I’d love to know who his backers are,” Sean said.

  “Why?”

  “Just curiosity.”

  “Are you going to ask him?”

  “Yes, I am,” Sean said. “But he doesn’t have to answer, and I have a feeling he won’t.”

  Marvin cocked his head, and Sean answered his unspoken question.

  “Because he’s not going to want me to go annoy them with questions. If I piss them off, there’s a good chance he won’t get any more money out of them. After all, why do they need this type of aggravation? The answer is: they don’t.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  “I’ll think of something,” Sean said.

  As it turned out, that something came sooner than Sean had expected. Sean and Marvin were crossing the parking lot when the Kurtz twins ran up to them.

  Konrad grabbed Sean by the arm. “Have you heard?” he cried. “They’ve gone and arrested Bob. Poor Bob. You gotta do something.”

  “I’m trying. Let go of my arm,” Sean demanded. “Now.” Sean didn’t like being touched.

  Konrad looked down. “Sorry,” he muttered and took a step back. “I forgot.”

  “Well, don’t forget again,” growled Sean.

  Curtis looked as if he was going to cry. “You have to make them listen to the tape.”

  “I’ve tried,” said Sean. Which wasn’t true, but Sean wasn’t in the mood to hear a lecture on the merits of ESV. Or was it EVC? Whatever the hell it was called.

  Konrad absentmindedly jiggled his ring of keys. “You have to make them understand.”

  Sean looked at the keys. Maybe, he thought, this trip wouldn’t be a total waste, after all. “You guys just going to work?”

  Curtis nodded.

  “Where’s Inez?” asked Sean.

  “She called in sick. Again,” Curtis told him. “Ian is going to fire her ass for sure if she doesn’t look out.”

  “So it’s just you two?” asked Sean.

  Konrad nodded. “I don’t mind. It’s easier without her. Quieter.”

  “Isn’t it kind of early for you guys to be cleaning?” asked Sean.

  “Oh. We’re going to do one of our tapings at the Haunted House,” Konrad said. “Mr. Kane called and told us to come in.”

  Sean was quiet for a moment, and then he said, “Is everyone at the offices gone?”

  Curtis answered, “Well, they’re usually gone this time of day. No one seems to work very late in there.”

  Sean was silent for another moment. Then he said, “Are you serious about helping your cousin?”

  “Of course, we are,” Konrad answered. “Why?”

  “Because I’d like to have a look around the offices of the Foundation,” replied Sean.

  “Are you nuts?” Marvin hissed.

  Sean ignored him and watched Konrad and Curtis exchange looks.

  “What do you say, boys?” Sean asked.

  In answer, Konrad took his keys off the hook that was holding them and gave them to Sean. “We forgot them, and we had to go home to get them,” he said.

  “But we have them,” Curtis protested.

  “We’re—” Konrad began. Then he stopped. “Forget it,” he said to Curtis. “I’ll explain in the truck.”

  “But what about our demonstration?” Curtis protested.

  “We’ll just be a little late,” said Konrad.

  “I don’t know,” Curtis said.

  “I do,” Konrad replied.

  Sean watched while Konrad dragged Curtis away.

  “You can’t do this,” Marvin said when they were gone.

  “Why not? Now is the perfect time. Mark is tied up. Figuratively speaking.”

  “But what if someone is at the Foundation, working?”

  “Then we’ll say we’re sorry and leave.”

  “I don’t think I can do this,” Marvin protested.

  “Of course, you can,” Sean said.

  Marvin bit his lip. “I don’t know.”

  “Well, I do.”

  “Why don’t I drive you over and sit in the car and wait?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I need you. And drive around to the side entrance. We can leave the car there. I don’t want the police to see it on one of their patrols.”

  “The police,” Marvin cried.

  “It’ll be fine,” Se
an said in as soothing a voice as he could manage. “Everything will be just fine.”

  “No, it won’t,” Marvin protested.

  “Just think of everything you’re learning,” Sean told him.

  Marvin straightened his back. “Breaking and entering is not something I want to learn.”

  “We’re not breaking and entering, because we have the keys. At worst, this could be called unlawful trespass.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Marvin said.

  Sean decided to take his comment literally. “I think so. It’s a misdemeanor. At most, we’d be looking at community service if we get caught.”

  Chapter 13

  Libby looked at the woman standing in front of her. She was small and plain and had one of those short, mannish haircuts that women tended to get when they didn’t want to bother about their looks anymore.

  “Aren’t you scared working here?” she asked Libby as Libby placed a slice of pumpkin cheesecake on a paper plate and handed it to her.

  “You mean because of the murder?” Libby asked.

  “After all, Mark said you saw Amethyst’s head rolling down the stairs.”

  Thanks, Mark, Libby thought. “Frankly,” she said to the woman, “I think I’m too tired to be scared.”

  The woman gave her an odd look and walked away.

  But it was true. Things had finally settled down some, and for that, she was eternally grateful. People were no longer standing out in the hallway, waiting to get in. But her back and her feet were killing her. So were her wrists and arms, for that matter. She couldn’t imagine how Bernie’s feet were feeling. She was wearing pink ballet slippers, which had no support whatsoever. She and Bernie had been making waffles and dishing out desserts since they’d opened the doors, and she was ready to take a break.

  Evidently, the combination of the chance to visit a real live murder scene and go through a haunted house at the same time had proved irresistible to the population of Longley and the surrounding towns. This was better than reality TV. When Libby thought about it, she realized this could be reality TV.

  They’d sold way more Belgian and chocolate brownie waffles than she or her sister had anticipated. Hopefully, they’d have enough to squeak by until the end of the night, which was another couple of hours away. All she could say was thank heavens she’d prepared extra.

 

‹ Prev