by Kate Bell
--5--
“Stella wants to know when you make the pumpkin fudge,” I said to my mother and handed her the bag with the last donut.
Amanda had work to do and had stopped off at the coffee shop.
“Labor Day weekend. She already knows that,” she said, peering into the bag.
“She isn’t the least bit sorry about Hazel being murdered.” I sat on a stool behind the counter.
“That doesn't surprise me. Those two hated each other,” she said and took a bite of her donut. She climbed up on the other stool behind the counter to enjoy her donut.
I turned to look at her. “Hate is a strong word,” I pointed out.
“It’s an accurate word. Hazel had an affair with Stella’s husband over thirty years ago.”
“What?” I exclaimed louder than I intended. “What do you mean she had an affair with Stella’s husband?”
She nodded. “Hazel was a looker back in the day. And she had a thing for Vince Moretti. Hazel’s own husband was away on business a lot and she got lonely, I guess.”
“That is crazy. I would never have thought it,” I said, trying to picture Hazel being both younger and a looker.
Mom took a bite of her donut. “This is so fresh,” she said. “You can’t blame Stella for hating Hazel all these years. Word has it she walked in on them.”
“Wow. Do you think Stella could have murdered Hazel?”
“I don’t see why she would. It’s been so many years. If she were going to do it, she would have done it long ago.”
“What if all those years just compounded the anger and feelings of betrayal?” I pointed out. “Maybe she lost her mind after obsessively thinking about it for so many years and snapped.”
“Maybe. But I’d think your imagination is running away from you. I don’t think anger works that way. If she were going to murder Hazel, she would have done it in a fit of rage when she found out about the affair. Instead, she stayed married to Vince all these years and Hazel went on about her life.”
“Maybe,” I said.
“I think it would be a good idea to hire some part-time help through the Halloween season,” she said. “I’ve talked to your father and he thinks it’s a good idea.”
“Really?” I asked. We’d always had part-time help over the years, but the last two employees we’d had moved on, and Mom never replaced them.
She nodded. “The season wears me out.”
“I think it’s a good idea. You work too hard.”
The door swung open, and I looked up to see Ethan standing there. He smiled at me like we were old friends.
“Hi Mia, Mrs. Jordan,” he said. “How are you ladies doing today?” He walked up to the front counter in his uniform, looking for all the world like the handsome young policeman he was. I shook my head at the thought.
“Fine,” I said but didn’t return his smile. He could save it for someone that cared.
“I’m doing well,” my mother said. “How are you?”
“Good, thanks for asking,” he said and looked at me.
I picked up the morning paper and folded it in half.
He leaned against the display case and looked over the candy. “What is that?” he asked, pointing to the display case.
“Almond nougats. Very good if you like almonds,” Mom said, and took another bite of her donut.
“I do like almonds,” he said and then he looked at me. “So, how are you doing today, Mia?”
“Great,” I said and refrained from pointing out I had already answered him.
He nodded and we stared at each other.
“So, that was weird. What happened to Hazel, I mean,” he finally said.
“Yes, it was. Did anyone know anything about what happened?”
He shook his head. “No. No one seemed to know anything, and they didn’t seem to mind she was killed. Kind of sad if you ask me.”
“What about her family?” I asked. “They had to care.”
“We’re trying to contact them,” he said. “Do you know if she had any family in town?”
“She has a sister in Vermont, but all her family that lived here in town have passed,” Mom supplied. “When her husband died, her in-laws left town and I don’t think she ever heard from them again. It’s very sad, but she didn’t seem to have many friends in this town. I don’t know why she stayed.”
“Do you have contact information for her sister?” he asked.
Mom shook her head. “No. But her name is Mary Ann Gould, and she lived in Montpelier, Vermont. Maybe you can Google her.”
“That will help,” he said and took his notebook out and wrote down the name.
“I’ve got bonbons to make. Let me know if you need anything else,” she said, slipping down off the stool and heading for the back room. I gritted my teeth and looked at her for help, but her back was to me.
“Do you make very much of the candy you sell?” he asked, smiling at me.
“I can make just about any of it. Mom enjoys it so she ends up making most of it,” I said. “We also buy prepackaged candy from suppliers.”
“It must have been a kid’s dream to be raised with the family business being a candy shop,” he said.
“I do have a fair number of fillings in my teeth to prove the family business is operating a candy store,” I said. Ethan had filled out in a good way since high school. Even though he had been the most popular boy in school, I had always thought him a bit on the skinny side. He wasn’t skinny anymore.
“Mia, I’m sorry if I came on too strong last night. I didn’t mean to. I was just trying to find out as much information as I could.”
I shrugged. “No, not at all. I understand it’s your job.” I was feeling a little kinder toward him, and I shook myself. I didn’t want to feel kindly toward him. I didn’t need a man in my life and certainly not this one.
“Good. I wouldn’t want you to think I was targeting you or anything. Will you be at the city council meeting tomorrow night?” he asked.
“What city council meeting?”
“They’re having one tomorrow to discuss the future of the Halloween season. Business hasn’t been what it used to be and some town residents want to do away with it.”
I gasped. “Are you kidding? How come I don’t know anything about this? They can’t do away with it! It’s our heritage. It’s what makes this town special.”
“I know. I’d hate to see it happen. It’s all I’ve ever known.” He sounded sad when he said it.
“Businesses depend on the Halloween season and all the tourists that come to town. We need that money,” I said. I couldn’t imagine Pumpkin Hollow not having all the Halloween themed shops, the haunted farm, and the haunted house.
“I was pretty shocked when I heard about it, too. It would be a shame if we lost it all.”
“What will the town do to bring in more revenue if it’s gone? I get that we don’t do a lot of business in the off months, but from Labor Day weekend through mid-November, everything Halloween themed brings in a lot of tax dollars for the city. Who’s idea was this?” I asked.
I was outraged. Pumpkin Hollow’s Halloween theme began in the fall of 1946. Soldiers had come home from the war and the women that had taken over their jobs in their absence were laid off. Another source of income was needed by the families and someone had come up with the Halloween season. The Halloween season had thrived and been a mainstay of our community ever since.
“The mayor,” he said. “To be honest, I am not a fan of his.”
“Well as of right now, neither am I.”
--6--
The town hall center was nearly filled as I slipped into a seat in a middle row. I was hoping most of the people here supported keeping the Halloween season. I couldn’t imagine what the town would be like without it.
I glanced around and near the front I saw Stella Moretti and Polly Givens from the gift shop. Ethan leaned against a wall, still in uniform, along with his partner Jasper Smith. I sat back in my cha
ir and waited while the secretary read the minutes of the last meeting. New curbs were needed along Third Street, trash pickup was needed an extra day each week and dog licensing concerns. I yawned.
When that was finished, someone I didn’t recognize raised his hand and entered an initiative to abandon the town's Halloween theme. A murmur went up in the room and I wasn’t sure if it was in support or against the idea.
Stan Goodall, the mayor, raised a hand to quiet the crowd. Stan was middle-aged with a balding head and a slight potbelly. He had been a math teacher at the high school but had quit amid a scandal involving the Glee Club and candy sale money that was never accounted for. It made me wonder how he had ever been elected mayor.
He turned to the man that had raised the motion. “Mr. Crownover, what are your reasons for Pumpkin Hollow to cease being a year-round Halloween themed town?”
“Mr. Mayor,” Mr. Crownover said. He got to his feet and took himself by the lapels. “In light of the recent death of an esteemed citizen, I feel it's necessary to examine how we conduct ourselves. Tourist numbers have been down in recent years and with this murder, we can only expect it to get worse.”
At the words “esteemed citizen” there was another murmur in the room. I was as surprised as anyone to hear Hazel referred to in that way, considering nearly everyone disliked her.
The mayor put a hand up to quite the crowd again. “Continue,” he said to Mr. Crownover.
He sighed. “Mr. Mayor, we’re a laughingstock. We’ve been one for years. We don’t have the resources to continue holding the activities for the Halloween season and now we have a murderer on the loose who is dressing his victims as Halloween props. I vote we immediately terminate everything Halloween.”
“Terminate Halloween?” Fagan Branigan said, jumping to his feet. His shock of red hair bounced in the air. Fagan owned the Little Shop of Costumes three doors down from our candy shop. “We can’t terminate Halloween. Pumpkin Hollow has been a tourist town for decades. We can’t just stop!”
“Fagan, you don’t have the floor,” the mayor pointed out. “Please sit down until it’s your turn.”
“I’ll sit down, but I won’t allow this “terminate Halloween” idea to go forward. I’ll tell you that much.” Fagan sat down, folding his arms across his chest and I smiled. There was at least one other person who would help keep the Halloween season alive.
“Mr. Mayor, as I was saying,” Mr. Crownover said. “We’re a laughingstock. The buildings are in disrepair, the carousel doesn’t work and last year one of the goats from the petting zoo stole over forty personal items from guests. We had complaints all season long. We no longer make money from Halloween. The city has had to fix the haunted house and the corn and straw bale mazes so many times, we’ve lost count. That money would be better spent on other things.”
The mayor nodded. “I have to agree with you. The city doesn’t have the money for these types of expenses and with the Halloween season just days away, I don’t see how we can go forward.”
There was an audible gasp in the room. I looked around and spotted Stella Moretti three rows up, nodding her head. I knew she was a grouch when it came to Halloween, but I hadn’t thought she would agree with the mayor. She had a bakery in the Halloween district, after all.
Brian Schoate sat in the row ahead of me and he glanced over his shoulder. We made eye contact for a second, and then I looked away. I didn’t have issues with Brian, but suddenly I felt a little weird that he was marrying my best friend.
Fagan stood up again. “Is it my turn?”
The mayor sighed and rolled his eyes. “I suppose so.”
Fagan stood up to his full height. “We have a tradition to uphold here in Pumpkin Hollow. My parents and my grandparents owned businesses here. And that talk about us being a laughingstock is hogwash. People look forward to visiting our town. Time and again, I’ve had customers tell me they’ve been coming every year since they were children. Even the ones that come in the offseason are thrilled to stop in the shops and visit with the shop owners, and spend their money, I might add. We cannot get rid of the Halloween theme of this town. I’d also like to point out that the murderer doesn’t have “victims,” he or she has one victim. As far as we know, anyway. We shouldn’t blow things out of proportion.”
“Is that all?” the mayor asked.
I wanted to stand up, but I wasn’t great at public speaking. Fagan looked around for support, but when none came, he sat down.
Mark Somers stood. “I’d like to add something. Personally, I don’t mind the Halloween theme, but it’s costing the city too much money to maintain. I vote we shut it down. It’s nothing personal. We just can’t afford it. We don’t have nearly as many visitors as we used to. It’s time to hang it up.”
I rolled my eyes. Mark Somers only lived in town during the summer and fall. He spent winter and early spring in San Diego because he couldn’t stand snow. He wouldn’t know how many visitors we had during the year because he wasn’t here all year long.
“Thank you, Mark. Does anyone else have anything to add?” the mayor asked.
Mr. Gott, the neighbor that lived on the other side of Hazel, stood.
“Yes, Mr. Gott?” the mayor asked.
“I vote in favor of ending the Halloween season. I’m tired of kids running across my lawn and I have to dodge them in the street. It’s dangerous having so many kids running around town. This Halloween season is just plain silly.”
I sighed loudly. Did Mr. Gott really think that if we got rid of the Halloween season, the kids would leave town?
“Thank you, Mr. Gott,” the mayor said and looked around for more supporters.
Three more people stood up to support ending the Halloween season, and I was starting to worry. How could so many people be against it?
When no one got to their feet to support the season, I decided I couldn’t sit there without saying something. I stood.
“I’d like to say something. There aren’t any other towns in the state like Pumpkin Hollow. People come from all over the state to visit and it’s a tradition for many families. Maybe we don’t have the draw we used to have, but maybe we can change that. We can put our heads together and come up with a plan to save the town.” I looked around and saw eyes staring back. My stomach heaved.
The mayor squinted at me. “Who are you?”
I cleared my throat. “Mia Jordan. My parents own the Pumpkin Hollow Candy Store. My grandparents owned it before that.”
“Why haven’t I seen you around?” the judge asked scrutinizing me.
“I’ve been away to college. For a while. And besides, I had you for tenth-grade math, so I don't know why you don't recognize me.”
He studied me a moment longer before speaking. “Well, Miss Jordan, let me tell you, if you’ve been away for any length of time, this town has changed. It’s not the old Pumpkin Hollow you might remember. We don’t have the guests we once had and we don’t have the tax revenue we once had, either.”
“Are we utilizing the Internet to draw people in?” I asked, sticking my chin out. I wasn’t going to give up that easily.
He stared at me again, and then blinked. “We have the Internet if that’s what you’re asking. And it works fine.”
I heard a couple of snickers. “Yes, but do we have a city website that people can visit when they plan their trip? Are we advertising? Are we making the website interactive?”
He sighed. “That all costs money, and if you had been listening, you’d know we don’t have money.”
“Maybe we can come up with a way to do it at a lower cost. Maybe we can figure out some new ways of doing things,” I suggested. I looked around for support, but I felt a little like Fagan must have felt a few minutes earlier.
“We don’t have the resources,” the mayor said. “We’ll take a vote on it though.”
“Wait a minute. Is that how we’re supposed to do this? Don’t the business owners have a say in things?” Ethan asked, standing up st
raight. “It seems like it will affect the business owners the most.”
The mayor sighed and rolled his eyes. “The business people may vote. But, it’s not like they can’t keep their businesses running. If the vote passes, we’ll simply abandon the Halloween theme. People still buy candy even if it isn’t bat and pumpkin shaped.”
“I can’t keep my business going if there’s no Halloween theme,” Fagan pointed out. “I sell costumes. Halloween costumes.”
“And do you sell them year round?” the mayor asked.
Fagan nodded. “It might surprise you, but I do. I also sell online, but I need the local business to make a living.”
“Like I said,” the mayor intoned. “We’ll take a vote at our next meeting. This meeting is adjourned.” He slammed the gavel on his desk before anyone else could speak up and then tossed it to the side.
Ethan turned and looked at me. We needed to come up with a plan.
--7--
I stood in front of Little Coffee Shop of Horrors trying to get my courage up to go inside. It wasn’t that I had feelings for my ex-boyfriend, Brian. I was happy for Amanda and Brian. I wasn’t sure what it was, but it felt odd to see him the night before. He left right after the meeting and I never got to speak to him. I took a deep breath and pushed the door open.
Brian was standing at the front counter, finishing up with a customer. He looked up and smiled when he saw me.
“Hey, Mia, how are you?” he asked as his customer picked up her cup of coffee and headed for the door.
I forced myself to smile and told myself there was nothing awkward about this. “Hi Brian, I’m great. How are you?”
“Great,” he said. We stood and looked at each other for a moment. “It’s good to see you.”
I walked up to the counter. “Good to see you, too. I think I need a coffee. I can’t seem to get going this morning.” I looked over the chalkboard menu on the wall. “Choco Boo Berry sounds interesting.” I tried not to notice that his shoulders were broader than they had been the last time I saw him and the freckles had faded from his nose.