Candy Coated Murder

by Kate Bell

  “That’s a raspberry mocha, and it's fantastic if I do say so myself.”

  “I’ll have a medium, then. Amanda told me you two were engaged. Congratulations.”

  He grinned at me and made my coffee. “Thanks. I’ve never been happier.”

  “That’s great to hear. How’s business been?” I asked. His eyes also seemed bluer than I remembered and his black hair had a single gray hair on the left side of his head.

  “Not bad. I still see plenty of customers, regardless of what other people say about business in town. I can’t wait for Halloween season. I’m sure things will be even better. It always is.”

  “Yeah, I’m a little worried about what happened at the town council meeting last night,” I said, glancing around the empty shop. “Do you think they might really do away with the Halloween season?”

  His face sobered. “I hope not. It’s what makes this town what it is. I’d hate to see it go. But I can tell you from being a town council member in the past, a lot of things get brought before the board that never pan out.”

  “I hope that’s true in this case. A lot of people earn their livelihood from the Halloween theme.”

  “We both know how we’ll vote when the time comes. Lots of people have ideas of their own but they never follow them through,” he said and squirted whipped cream on my drink. “Let’s hope this is one of them.”

  “Oh,” I said, and then stopped.

  “Sorry. Did you not want whipped cream? I can make you another.”

  “No, it’s fine. I should have said something.”

  “Sorry,” he said and handed me the coffee.

  “It’s not a problem.” I pulled my debit card out of my pocket to pay for the drink.

  “It’s on the house,” he said. “It’s been forever since I’ve seen you. We’ll call it a welcome home gift.”

  “Thanks, Brian, that’s nice of you. Where’s Amanda?”

  “She had errands to run. She’ll be in later.”

  I nodded. “I guess I better get going then,” I said. I started to turn and head out the door, but I stopped. “Brian, did you know Hazel Martin? Other than from when we were kids and you would come by my house?”

  “Sure, she came in nearly every day and complained I made the coffee too strong. I suggested she add more cream, but that didn’t seem to appease her. It’s a shame someone killed her. I don’t know when the last time was that we had a murder in town.”

  “It was horrible what they did to her. Who would dress her as a scarecrow like that?” I wondered.

  “It seems like an in-your-face act, doesn’t it? I hope the town doesn’t get bad press because of it. We’ve always been family friendly and it might drive people away,” he said, leaning on the front counter.

  I nodded, and the door opened. We both turned to see Ethan and his partner, Jasper, walk in.

  “Hey,” Ethan said, looking at me, and then over at Brian.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “How are you, Mia?” he asked before I could make my exit.

  I smiled. “I’m good. I probably should get back to the candy shop though. I hate leaving my mom by herself for long.”

  “I’m glad you spoke up at the meeting last night. It’s ridiculous that they’re using her murder as part of the reason to shut down the Halloween season. I mean, it’s a terrible thing that happened, but it doesn’t make sense they want to stop having the Halloween season because of it,” Ethan said.

  “I know, I just don’t understand. It sounds like they’re jumping to conclusions.”

  “What it is, is the mayor having a stake in reelection,” Jasper said. “He has people breathing down his neck about changing the town, and he wants to get votes, so he’s doing what they want.”

  “Well, those of us that want things to stay the same vote, too,” I pointed out. “And who is that Mr. Crownover and why did he suggest we end the Halloween season?”

  “That would be the mayor’s brother-in-law,” Jasper said. “He’s lived here about two years, I think.”

  I groaned. “He has no stake in this town, then. It’s none of his business.”

  “Maybe the mayor thinks people that don’t like the Halloween season outnumber those that do,” Brian said.

  I sighed and took a sip of my coffee. “So many families depend on the Halloween season. It’s unfair to try to take that away from them.”

  “What about a website, like you mentioned?” Ethan asked me. “Do you know how to build a really nice one? I can build a very simplified website, but then there’s driving traffic to it and advertising. Do you think it can be done without spending a lot of money?”

  I smiled. I might finally be able to put one of my master’s degrees to work. “I think I might be able to help with that. I have a master’s degree in web and business development. I want to do something big.”

  Ethan grinned. “Sounds like you came home at just the right time.”

  “I’ll say,” Brian said.

  Maybe I really had come home at just the right time. And maybe all that studying hadn’t been in vain. I wasn’t sure I could save the town, but if there was a chance, I was going to give it my all.

  “I’ll give it a try. I’ll need help from all of you. Maybe we can save Halloween for Pumpkin Hollow.”

  “Sounds like a great idea,” Brian said. “I know Amanda and I would be grateful. I hate to see people try to run small businesses into the ground. We have rights, too.”

  I nodded. “My mom and dad would be devastated. They inherited the candy store from my grandparents. I have a lot of old black and white pictures of my grandparents when they were young and working in the candy store. We still have the original display case from when the store first opened. I should blow up some of those pictures and frame them. They’d look awesome on the wall of the candy store.”

  “That would be very cool,” Ethan said.

  “Well, I better get back. I’ll talk to you all later,” I said and headed to the door.

  ***

  I had a great idea while experimenting with a pumpkin truffle recipe earlier in the day. If all the business owners with a Halloween theme banded together, we could convince the city council how much we needed the Halloween season.

  That evening, I sat on my bed with my laptop and created a flyer inviting business owners as well as interested citizens to an impromptu meeting Friday evening. I made it cute with pumpkins and bats bordering the page. I was going for an urgent call to action message, but I hoped it didn’t sound desperate. The last thing I wanted was for people to feel like we didn’t have a chance of winning.

  When I was satisfied, I sent the flyers to my printer. If I could hand out at least a hundred of these, we would have a decent sized group. I could also post some in different places around town and put a notice in the local happenings groups on social media.

  Maybe if we all worked at it, we really could save the Halloween season, and in turn, Pumpkin Hollow.

  --8--

  I was scooping orange and black candy dots out of a box and putting them into the display case when Martha Mayes came into the candy store.

  “Good morning, Mia,” she said. “My grandchildren are visiting this weekend and I want to get some taffy.”

  I smiled. “Good morning, Martha. We just got some in,” I said, motioning toward a bulk bin.

  Martha went to the bin and picked up one of the Halloween print paper bags that sat below the bin. We had just gotten a fresh supply of the bags in. During the off-season, we used white paper bags, but with Labor Day less than a week away, we were gearing up for the Halloween season.

  “These sure are good,” she said, scooping some of the multi-colored taffy into her bag.

  “Yes, they are,” I said and closed the display case. “My mother said she's going to make vanilla taffy in the next few days. The store bought taffy is good, but you don’t want to miss the handmade taffy.”

  “I’ll have to stop back by and get some of the vanill
a taffy when she makes it. Mia, I was sure sorry to hear it was you that found Hazel the other day,” she said, closing the lid to the bulk bin and folding over the top of the paper bag. “What an awful thing to see.”

  “It was rather unpleasant,” I said, picking up a box from the floor and opening it. Inside were two-dozen orange and black votive candles I was going to set around the shop to help with the Halloween ambiance. “I feel bad for Hazel. I haven’t heard if they know how she died. Have you?”

  “No, not a word. I will say I don’t feel especially bad about her dying. You have no idea how many calls I got from her a week.” She walked up to the counter and put the bag down. Martha was the manager of the homeowners association for my parents’ neighborhood and was in charge of making sure everyone complied with the rules.

  “You don’t mean that,” I said. I knew Hazel was a pest, but it was beyond me how anyone could say they didn’t feel bad about someone’s murder.

  “Actually, I do. I tell you, Mia, she was something else. She had laser vision and the minute someone’s grass was higher than one inch, I got a call. And heaven forbid someone had a garden gnome in their front yard. That Stella Moretti was at the top of her list to complain about, but you and your parents were up there, too. Oh, how she complained about you father having the television on too loud.”

  I stared at her. She smiled and chatted as if we were discussing the weather. I knew Hazel had complained about my parents, but I didn’t want to hear the details. It was like eavesdropping, only I hadn’t done the eavesdropping. Martha was forcing it on me.

  “Is this all for you?” I asked, motioning toward her bag.

  “That will do it. Of course, I’ll be in next weekend to let the grandkids pick out their own candy. This is just for starters,” she said and laughed.

  I smiled back at her. Martha was middle-aged and wore too much makeup. She had always been a pleasant woman, but this wasn’t a pleasant conversation. At least it wasn’t pleasant for me.

  “Great,” I said and weighed the bag. “I hope they find the killer soon.”

  “Oh, I’m not worried. They did us all a favor,” she said, digging through her purse. “I’m sure Hazel pushed someone too far, and it was curtains for her.”

  “I don’t mean to be rude, but that’s not nice. She was a human being,” I pointed out. I wanted to say so much more, but she was a customer and my mother had always taught me to be nice to customers. Or at least as nice as possible.

  “Oh, Mia, I’m sorry. I guess I’m not being nice, am I? You’re right. She was a person and I’m sure there has to be someone somewhere that will grieve for her. I don’t know who that could be, but I’m sure there’s one somewhere.” She chuckled and held up her debit card while I rang up her candy.

  I smiled and motioned toward the card reader. I didn’t comment though. I wouldn’t get anywhere with her. It did seem odd she was so jovial about Hazel being dead. Regardless of the fact that Hazel had made a nuisance of herself, it wasn’t normal for someone to be happy about a murder.

  I handed her a receipt. “Thank you, Martha.”

  “Thanks, sweetie,” she said and took her candy and left.

  “Who was that?” Mom asked, untying her apron with one hand. She had been making fudge in the back room and she carried a tray of it to put in the display case.

  “Martha Mayes. She seems inordinately pleased that Hazel was murdered.”

  “Really?” she asked, opening the display case.

  The scent of fudge drifted over. As long as I had worked in the candy shop, I never tired of the smell of chocolate.

  “Yes. Kind of strange, if you ask me.”

  “I heard she was under a lot of stress because Hazel called her to complain all the time. Vivian Jones said Martha had to see a therapist to help her cope.”

  “She seems to be coping just fine, now,” I said, sitting down on one of the stools behind the counter.

  Mom nodded. “I’ve interviewed three candidates for the part-time positions. Two more to go.”

  “That’s great. We really need the help,” I said.

  The bell over the door jingled as the door swung open.

  “Hi, Mrs. Jordan. Mia,” Ethan said, nodding.

  I smiled. I was glad Ethan was worried about the town losing its Halloween theme. It made me feel a little kinder toward him.

  “Hi,” I said and tried not to smile too big.

  “Hello, Ethan,” Mom said. “Mia told me about the city council meeting. It would be a travesty if we lost the Halloween season. I’m glad you’re going to help Mia come up with a website to help with visitors.”

  Ethan smiled bigger. “I’ve talked to a number of people that are against canceling Halloween. I think if we all band together, we can stop it. Too much is at stake.”

  I nodded. “That’s great, and I have an idea,” I said, slipping down off the stool and handing him the flyer I made the night before. “We can get together and have a think tank or something. Stir up some excitement over the season.”

  Ethan smiled as he read the flyer. “This a great idea. I bet we can come up with a solution to our problem.”

  “I think having a town council meeting for the part of town that owns businesses on Spooky Avenue and Goblin Lane is a fantastic idea,” Mom said.

  “And also for the citizens that are on our side. I think if we hand out these flyers, we could get a lot of people to show up,” I said, and leaned against the front counter.

  “I knew I came to the right place,” Ethan said. “This is exactly what we need. We can come up with a way to make more money for the town. But I really think Jasper is right, and it’s just a ploy by the mayor to get votes for another term.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” I said. “But we can’t take any chances. We have to be proactive.”

  “That’s off the record, by the way,” he said. “I don’t want any trouble at work. The chief is the mayor’s cousin.”

  I gasped. “I had no idea. I have been away too long. The chief of police is the mayor’s cousin and the guy trying to stop the Halloween season is his brother-in-law. Now I’ve heard everything.”

  Ethan grinned. “Yup. Welcome to small town politics. You’ve still got to watch what you say to who around here.”

  I groaned. “That’s one thing I didn’t miss while I was gone.”

  “I’ve got more fudge to make,” Mom said and excused herself.

  “That fudge smells so good,” he said. “I need to get some.”

  I nodded and went to the display case. “How much?”

  “A quarter pound. I’ll try not to eat it all at once,” he said with a grin.

  I used a spatula to scoop up a small slab my mother had already cut and put it into a paper bag. “Good luck with that. Ethan, do they know how Hazel died?”

  “Autopsy results aren’t back yet, but from the bruising, they think she may have fallen or was possibly beaten.”

  “Oh, no,” I said. “That’s horrible. That makes me sick to hear.”

  He nodded. “It looks more like a fall, but we won’t know for a while.”

  “Do you know Martha Mayes?” I asked him. I probably should have left well enough alone, but it bothered me she was so happy about Hazel’s murder.

  He shrugged. “I know of her, but I don’t really know her. Why?”

  I shrugged. “It just seems like a lot of people are happy Hazel is dead. It bugs me, I guess.” I went to the cash register and rang up his fudge.

  “It does seem like a lot of people are happy about it, but Hazel had a way with people,” he said and ran his debit card through the card reader.

  “I wonder if she knew she wasn’t liked.”

  He grinned. “I bet she did. I’ve talked to a lot of people about her death, and it seems she didn’t care what other people thought of her.”

  I nodded. “I suppose so.”

  I hated to see anyone ganged up on and that’s what this felt like. Someone needed to find her killer
, and I thought I might just ask around a little. Maybe someone would tell me something they wouldn’t tell the police. As awful as Hazel had been, she still deserved justice.

  --9--

  “Good morning, Stella,” I said, leaning up against her counter. “I’d like two crullers, please.”

  Stella sat on the stool behind the counter and sighed. “Really? You couldn’t make it in here when those last customers were here?”

  “What?” I asked, confused. “You mean the ones I just passed out on the sidewalk?”

  “Yeah. Them.”

  “Um, why?” I asked.

  “Because I just sat down and now I have to get up again.”

  “Oh. Sorry,” I said. I didn’t know how Stella stayed in business. She was almost as cranky as Hazel had been.

  She sighed again and slid off the stool. “No problem.” The sarcasm in her voice told me otherwise.

  “Thanks,” I said as she washed her hands. I read the chalkboard on the wall while I waited for her to get my crullers. In the bottom left-hand corner, there was a note that said, baker’s dozen donuts, $9.00. Beneath that, it said, thirteen donuts.

  “So, if I get a baker’s dozen donuts how many donuts will I get?” I asked, feeling a little wicked.

  “A baker’s dozen,” Stella replied, putting plastic gloves on.

  “What’s the count?”

  “Thirteen. Didn’t your mother ever tell you how much a baker’s dozen is?”

  “How come you wouldn’t give Hazel thirteen donuts when she bought the baker’s dozen?” I asked.

  “Because I didn’t like her,” she said. “Any other questions?”

  I eyed her. Stella was something else. It made me wonder if she had something to do with Hazel’s demise. “Stella, did you kill Hazel?”

  I figured it wouldn’t hurt to straight out ask. And maybe she’d give herself away in her response.