by Kate Bell
A small crowd had gathered outside of the candy shop, with several people pushing their noses against the window to see inside. I smiled. The windows would need cleaning when we closed, but I didn’t care. The slower summer season was over and we would work our fingers to the bone for the next several months. I was looking forward to it.
“Excuse me,” I said and squeezed between several people to get to the front door. I pulled the key out of my pocket and stuck it into the lock. “How is everyone this morning?”
“Great,” a man wearing a Christmas sweater said. It appeared some people really wanted to push the holidays along.
“We are in desperate need of fudge,” the woman with him spoke up.
“Yes, candy! We need candy now!” another voice said.
I laughed. “I think I can do something about that,” I said and pushed the door open. I held it as the customers streamed into the shop, then let it close softly behind the last one. It was ten minutes early, but it would make the customers happy. They were paying customers, and we needed every one we could get.
“I’ve got donuts,” I mouthed to my mother and held up the white paper bag. She nodded, then smiled and greeted the customers. She was dressed as a 1920s flapper and she was rocking it. Mom had always looked fifteen years younger than she was and she looked absolutely darling as a flapper.
I put the bag behind the counter for when we had a slow moment and Mom and the girls could eat the ones I bought for them.
“Customers,” I whispered with a grin to Andrea. She nodded and smiled.
Andrea was a sweet girl, working her way through the local junior college. I remembered my first year at college and it made me a little wistful. I had so many dreams back then. Well, my dreams had changed, but I still had them. We would restore Pumpkin Hollow to its former glory.
Andrea had dressed as a 1930s blues singer, complete with a long slinky dress. In real life, Andrea was the best singer I’d ever heard. I had encouraged her to try out for one of those talent search shows on TV. She was a sure winner.
Lisa was a high school student, and she had dressed up as a fairy. She was a cute girl with a bubbly personality and I knew the customers would love her.
I stood at the ready at the cash register and waited on people for forty-five minutes. The crowd thinned out, and I looked up to see Martha Mayes. She was dressed as a witch with a tall black pointy hat and green face makeup.
She smiled at me. “Well, that crowd was fun,” she said. "I hope we see a lot more of that this season."
“Me too. I love to see that kind of enthusiasm this early in the season,” I said.
Andrea reached for the donut bag and handed one off to my mother.
“How are you, Martha?” my mother asked, and took a bite of her donut.
“I’m fine. Things are just rosy these days. I love the Halloween season and well, to be honest, I have a lot less work to do now.”
I looked at her. “What do you mean?”
She shrugged and giggled. “Hazel Martin had me sending letters all the time. All complaints have to be looked into and to be honest, she made a lot of complaints. I was constantly driving around the neighborhoods and checking things out. Then I had to send the homeowners warning letters. Personally, I don’t mind if someone has a little yard decoration or maybe their lawn gets just a bit too high. People are busy. I understand. I guess I’ve probably mentioned that, but I’m a little giddy about not having to work so hard.”
I nodded. “I can see where that would have kept you busy.”
“I have so much spare time during the day now, I don’t know what to do with myself. I think I was doing the job of two people before and now that I only have to do the job of one, I don’t know what to do,” she said and laughed.
I smiled. This exchange was uncomfortable. “I guess things worked out for you.”
“I’m sorry Hazel was so difficult for you,” Mom said. “I can imagine how hard that was, having someone breathing down your neck all the time and making you do more work than might otherwise be necessary.”
Martha sighed. “It certainly was stressful. But thankfully, that’s all over.”
“But, a woman was murdered,” I pointed out gently. It still disturbed me that so many people didn’t seem to care that a murder had occurred.
“That’s true. I suppose I shouldn’t gloat. But my life is so much better, it’s hard not to. I do hope the police figure out who killed her. I’d like to shake his or her hand.”
I gasped and stared at her. “You can’t mean that.”
“I’m kidding!” she said and cackled with laughter. The cackle made her witch’s costume more realistic.
I glanced at Andrea, who stared at her wide-eyed.
“I’m sure you don’t mean that,” I repeated.
She shrugged. “I probably don’t. I’m sorry for her family’s loss. Well, I think I’d like two of those popcorn balls with black and orange sprinkles and I’ll be on my way.” She pointed a green finger with a prosthetic wart at the display of popcorn balls.
Andrea jumped up and took two popcorn balls from the display case and put them into wax paper bags, then into a larger Halloween printed bag and handed the bag to her. I rang Martha up and took her money. We all watched her as she exited the shop, waving at us as she left.
“I don’t get that,” Andrea said. “I didn’t really know Hazel, but even if she was a terrible person, I can’t imagine being happy someone killed her.”
“Me either,” I said. “I did know her and didn’t particularly like her. I still can’t get over people acting that way.”
“We need to make more fudge, I think,” Mom said. “I’ve already sold five pounds of it.”
“That’s good news,” I said. “I hope things really turn around this year.”
“Did you get the city website made?” Andrea asked. Her parents owned a craft shop, and they depended on the Halloween season as much as we did.
“I’m almost done. I’ve been working on it every night after work. I can hardly wait to show it off,” I said.
“I’m glad you came home, Mia,” Mom said. “I think ideas around here became old and stale a long time ago and everyone eventually gave up on the town.”
“Me, too,” I said and got to my feet as three more customers came in. “I’ll make the fudge.”
I headed to the back room and grabbed a hair net and an apron and put them on. The backroom always smelled like chocolate and I inhaled deeply. I loved the smell. I weighed out the sugar and placed it into the large pan on the stove. One large batch of fudge coming up, I thought.
I decided on a large batch of chocolate and another of peanut butter. The other flavors would probably hold out for the rest of the day. I turned the heat on low beneath the saucepan, remembering when my grandmother would make the fudge on Saturday mornings. She had been gone more than ten years, but I still missed her. I thought she would approve of my efforts to save the town and would have jumped right in to help me if she had still been here.
--17--
Saturday afternoon I had the privilege of judging the pumpkin carving contest. Tables had been set up near the gazebo at the park and I sat on the step, waiting for the bell to ring signaling the end of the contest. On one side were the adults, who were allowed sharp instruments. Cut at your own peril was the motto for the adults. On the other side were the kids, broken down by age groups. They had crayons, paints, and stickers available to do their artwork.
I wasn’t sure how I would pick winners from the kid’s groups. I didn’t want to make anyone sad by not picking their pumpkin. I looked up when a shadow fell across me.
“Hey Mia, are you ready to judge the jack-o’-lanterns?” Ethan asked.
I smiled. “I am as ready as I will ever be. I do worry about disappointing the kids though. There’s only a first through third place winner for each age group and we have around ten kids per age group.”
“I’d worry more about disappointing the
adults. They have sharp implements and they look pretty serious about the whole carving thing,” he said and sat beside me.
I laughed. “On second thought, you might be right. Will you stick around to protect me?” As soon as it was out of my mouth, I regretted it. I didn’t want him to think I was a damsel in distress that needed saving.
He chuckled. “I do come armed, so I guess I could stick around.”
I smiled at him. “I’m glad. I’m also glad you’re working on finding Hazel’s killer. Someone else might not work as hard to find her killer.”
“All I’m really doing is gathering information and following up with people. I don’t know how close we are to solving the case, but I know those higher up in the department have their eyes on a couple of people. But, we still need more time.”
I nodded. “Would those people happen to be Stella Moretti or Martha Mayes?” I asked.
“I’m not at liberty to say. Are their attitudes still bothering you?”
I nodded. “I guess I shouldn’t let it get to me. I guess it’s because they’re so callous about the whole thing. Mr. Gott, too, I guess. Actually, I guess on that basis alone, I could come up with a whole list of people that could be suspects,” I said and chuckled. “I know Hazel was a pain, but it seems like people could be just a tad more sorry about her being killed like she was.”
He nodded. “Hazel didn’t mind making enemies, that’s for sure. But like I said, I can’t divulge that kind of information.”
“Maybe you should question all of them again? Maybe they’d break if the police keep questioning them.”
He chuckled. “Do we need to drag them into a room and shine a bare light bulb in their eyes and grill them?”
I smiled. “You know what I mean. It’s not that they don’t care that she died; it’s that they’re happy she died. Thrilled, even. It makes me very suspicious.”
“I guess I can ask them a few more questions. It won’t hurt anything. Unless they complain to the chief. He doesn’t like complaints.”
“Seriously? It’s a murder investigation,” I said.
He nodded. “It’s a small town, and he likes things to run smoothly.”
I shook my head at him. The bell went off, and I stood up. “Everyone needs to stop what they’re doing,” I announced. I had borrowed a bullhorn from the police department and I had power now.
I heard a couple of groans as crayons and knives were put down.
“Thank you,” I said and put the bullhorn down. I looked at Ethan. “Want to help?”
“Sure,” he said, and we strolled along the tables of carved pumpkins.
I had a clipboard to write notes. The youngest group was the four to seven-year-old age group. The pumpkins had messy paint drips, coloring out of the lines and a few well-placed stickers to look like lips.
“What’s your pumpkin’s name?” I asked a little blond haired boy.
He stuck his chest out and smiled at me. “Harold. He likes to eat jelly beans.”
I laughed. “Well, Harold is very fancy looking,” I told him. Harold had a black sticker eye patch and some plastic gemstones glued in his mouth and had a rakish tilt to his head.
We walked along, looking at each pumpkin and I made notes on the paper attached to my clipboard. The kids would all get cotton candy as consolation prizes, so it wouldn’t be terrible if they didn’t get the big prize; a trick or treat bag filled with candy, donated by yours truly.
The adult winners would get tickets to the corn maze and hayrides. Adult non-winners didn’t get a consolation prize, but we figured they were adults and they could handle it. After Ethan and I made the tour of the carving tables, we moved off to the side to consult on the winners.
“I am really liking Harold,” Ethan said. “He’s a striking pirate.”
I giggled. “I like him, too. It’s those plastic gemstones in his teeth.”
In the end, we selected the best possible winners. In the adult group, we had a pirate, a witch, and a haunted house scene. I suspected these people had done this quite a few times as there weren’t any mistakes in the cuts on the surfaces of the pumpkins.
For the kids, we chose Harold, a turkey, and a puppy in the four to seven-year-old and in the older ages, we had scarecrows, witches, and mummies.
I picked up the bullhorn and made the announcements of winners to polite applause. Ethan stood next to me and handed out the prizes.
“Well, that was an enjoyable afternoon,” Ethan said when we finished up.
“I had a lot of fun. I’m glad I moved home,” I said. I picked up a cardboard box and headed to one of the carving tables and pushed the pumpkin seeds and membranes into the box. Ethan went to the other side of the table with his own box and did the same.
“I’m glad you came home, too,” he said and pushed a large pile of seeds and pumpkin membranes into his box. I glanced at him but didn’t say anything.
“So, has anyone from Hazel’s family contacted the police?” I asked, changing the subject.
“The next of kin was notified when she died, but I haven’t heard anything else. Have you noticed anyone next door, maybe going through things in the house?”
I shook my head. “No, I kind of expected someone to show up. I imagine they’ll sell the house. Unless a family member moves in.”
“Yeah, no telling. But I bet whoever your new neighbor turns out to be, they’ll be easier to get along with than the former one,” he said with a wicked grin.
“Stop,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him. I grinned. “She was a perfectly delightful neighbor.”
“Liar.”
I laughed. “I am a liar,” I admitted.
We cleared off the tables and then wiped them down. The pumpkin carving contest had been a success. We just needed a few more weekend events like this one and we would be on our way to a more prosperous Halloween season.
--18--
“I declare the opening day for the Halloween season a success,” I said, turning the lock on the candy shop door. A few people still milled about on the sidewalk, but most had gone home for the day. I had forgotten how exhausting the season was. Every bone in my body ached.
“I agree,” Mom said, wiping down the front counter.
The two part-timers, Andrea and Lisa scurried about the shop cleaning up. I was glad we had hired them. They were making things a lot easier on Mom and I. Mostly Mom, since she did the bulk of the candy making.
“I think things will really turn around,” I said, picking up the broom and sweeping. “If I don’t fall asleep as soon as I get home, I think I can finish up the website. I’m pretty tired though.”
“That would be great," Lisa said, straightening a display of boxed candy pumpkins. “I bet it helps the town a lot.”
I nodded. I would do whatever it took to save the Halloween season. We finished cleaning up as quickly as we could and left for the evening. The morning would come all too early and I needed a shower and sleep after I worked on the website.
***
Mom pulled into our driveway and parked the car. My head was resting on the seat back and my eyes were closed. I felt myself slipping into sleep and shook myself when she turned the engine off.
“I am so tired,” I mumbled and sat up, opening my eyes. It was twilight outside. The days were getting shorter and cooler. Leaves were falling from the trees and I could hardly wait for sweater and boot weather. I loved the fall more than any other time of year.
“I’m pretty beat, too,” Mom said. “I hope your father made something for dinner. Otherwise, I think a sandwich might be in order.”
“I’m fine with a sandwich, I don’t need anything fancy. I just want to take a shower and go to bed,” I said and opened the car door.
I thought the website might have to wait after all. I either needed to exercise to build up my stamina, or I needed to sleep more to keep up with the season. I wasn’t sure which.
“I made dinner,” Dad called as we walked in the door.
; “That’s great news,” Mom said. “I married the best man, ever.”
“Yes, you did. It’ll be another forty-five minutes though,” he said from the living room.
I could smell pot roast and my stomach growled. “I’m going upstairs. Call me when we’re ready to eat?” I called to whoever cared.
“You bet,” Dad said.
I trudged up the stairs and wished we lived in a single level house. My thigh muscles screamed at me and I wasn’t sure why they were so tired. It wasn’t like I had run a marathon or anything.
I pushed the door to my room open and lay down on my back on the bed. I had forgotten to turn on the light on my way to the bed, but I was too tired to get up and turn it on. My laptop was on my bedside table, and I considered opening it up and working on the website, but my eyes were tired. I closed them and lay still.
As I lay there, I became aware of a steady crunching sound. Once my mind picked up on it, I couldn’t let it go. My eyes opened, and the sleepiness was suddenly gone. Where was that coming from?
I felt a light breeze blow across my arms and face and I realized my window was halfway open. The room had been stuffy the night before and I forgot to close it when I got up this morning. I sat up and went to the window. The sound was coming from outside and I peered out.
Hazel’s house and Mr. Gott’s house were single level houses and I had a view into both back yards. Hazel’s house was dark, but Mr. Gott had a light on in his back yard. I leaned out a little further and I could just see him working in his yard. He had a shovel, and he was digging a hole. I wondered why he would do it this late in the evening. Each time he stuck the shovel into the ground, I heard the crunching sound.
I stood up straight. It was late to be working in the yard. I couldn’t imagine what he was doing. Then I thought about his little dog, Millie. She was getting old, and I wondered if she had passed away. Was Mr. Gott burying her? Should I offer to help him? My body was aching and my mind was tired. I sighed. Poor thing. Millie was all he had.