Killer Halloween Pie

by Carolyn Q. Hunter

  “It sounds like that’s the direction Detective Mannor is leaning.”

  “No.”

  Bert nodded. “Kay had complete access to the cages at all times. He could have let the snake out or even taken it out, on purpose. Maybe even put it in Peter’s trunk.”

  “I don’t believe it. Not one bit.” She was waving her fork in the air in a no motion.

  “Peter, on the other hand, had a small opportunity to take the snake out while he was getting the plastic toys from Kay. Maybe he put it in his own trunk?”

  “And put himself in danger? I doubt it.”

  “I know, I know. It all seems too complicated.”

  “Then maybe it’s not?”

  Bert grunted unhappily. “I don’t know. Something feels seriously off.”

  Carla narrowed her eyes at her friend, trying to read the distressed expression on her face. “You really think it might have been one of them?”

  “I mean, it’s true, isn’t it? I hate to think of it, but it could have been either one of them. Maybe Peter fiddled around while Kay was gone out of the room. He could have accidentally let it out.”

  “And not told anyone?”

  “Maybe he was afraid, didn’t know what to do, so he said nothing.”

  “I guess that’s better than him being a murderer.”

  “Kay could have forgotten to close the cage, too.”

  “But you don’t think, in either case, it was on purpose?”

  Bert sighed, shaking her head. “I’m just hoping that’s the case. Both men are upstanding members of our church congregation. I’d hate to think of either one as a murderer.”

  Carla twisted her lips to one side as she thought. “Sheesh, Bert, now you’ve got me all mixed up.”

  “The real issue is, what possible reason could either of those men have for committing murder? It would have to be something very dire for them to resort to that.”

  Carla tapped her fingers on the table. “Neither one of them is very greedy or jealous. They’re both married to women they love and adore. I just don’t see any possible motive.”

  Bert shrugged. “Maybe you’re right, but Kay seemed pretty miffed with Peter this morning.”

  “Why is that?”

  “I guess he’s been saying some hurtful things? I’m not sure.” Bert paused, looking down at the partially eaten pie.

  “Surely, there is some sort of explanation.”

  “I know. Somehow I feel like it all has to do with Talia.”

  “Well, of course it does. She was the one who was killed right?”

  Bert was about to agree when an idea struck her mind. Her mouth gaped open.

  “What is it?”

  “Maybe we’re wrong. Maybe Talia wasn’t the intended target.”

  Carla blinked in shock. “You don’t mean?”

  “Maybe Peter was the one who was meant to die all along.”

  CHAPTER 12

  * * *

  It was dark that night, darker than during the trunk-or-treat. A thick covering of clouds blotted out the stars and moon like spilled ink over white paper. A cold drizzle of rain pittered along the pavement outside, and started to decorate the windshield of Carla’s vehicle.

  In the distance, a silent flash of lightning illuminated the clouds. It wasn’t until nearly ten seconds later that the low rumble rolled through as well.

  Bert shivered. “You’re sure he’ll be there?” she asked her friend.

  “Positive. Peter is a man of schedules and calculations.”

  On Saturday nights, Peter and his wife usually volunteered at the church, getting everything ready for services the next day. As soon as Bert and Carla had closed up shop, they headed that way. While there wasn’t a surety in their theory, they were still hoping to give fair warning to the man if he indeed was in some sort of danger.

  If someone had truly intended the snake to kill him, what was to stop them from trying again?

  And who was it that might be behind the whole thing?

  The church came into view, it’s illuminated stained glass windows a warm welcome against the strange black sky. They both instantly spotted multiple cars parked outside, including one of the animal control vehicles. They likely were keeping someone on the premises just in case the snake returned. Pulling into a space in the lot, both women climbed out and quickly scampered toward the door.

  Bert felt her own pulse pounding from the adrenaline. While there was no apparent immediate danger, she couldn’t help but hold a sense of tension within herself.

  Walking through the side door, she could hear a vacuum running.

  “That’ll probably be him,” Carla noted waving toward the chapel. Stepping under the archway and among the pews, they spotted Pastor Chimney pushing an old blue, plastic vacuum across the carpet.

  “That isn’t Peter,” Bert groaned.

  Glancing up, the pastor smiled and waved.

  “Come on. We can ask him,” Carla said, waving Bert to follow. As the passed among the pews, Pastor Chimney shut off his vacuum.

  “Good evening. Are you here to volunteer?”

  Bert felt herself to slightly red. “No, actually. We were hoping to find Peter.”

  “Oh, Peter. He’s washing the windows in my office.” Letting the vacuum go, he took on a mournful stare. “This doesn’t happen to have anything to do with Talia’s tragic death, does it?”

  The women looked at each other, answering his question.

  “Peter has already been set with troubles as it is, what with your detective asking him all sorts of probing questions, bringing up unnecessary wounds.”

  The fact that everyone continued to refer to Mannor as “your detective” to Bert was really starting to get on her nerves. “This could be very important. A matter of life or death.”

  The pastor raised a curious eyebrow. “Life or death?”

  “That’s right. We think someone may be trying to target him,” Carla butted in, saying far more than Bert would have cared to reveal.

  “This sounds serious,” he admitted, his face tightening with a sense of undeniable fear. “So, you both truly believe Talia’s death was no accident?”

  “We’re not positive, but we have a hunch,” Carla continued speaking.

  The pastor opened his mouth to speak just as a rumble of thunder—much closer than before—rocked the building. In a flurry of flickers, the lights buzzed out, only leaving a quiet hum behind as the electricity died.

  “That’s not good,” Carla muttered.

  “Hold on,” Bert cut in, pulling out her phone and turning on its screen to help illuminate the small space around them.

  “We better find Peter.” Waving for them to follow, the pastor led the way out into the hall to his office. Upon arriving, the dim bluish light from the phone screen showed that the door was closed. “What the heck?” he whispered, pulling on the knob. It wouldn’t move.

  “It’s locked?” Bert asked, feeling her hands begin to sweat.

  “It isn’t supposed to be.” Digging into his pocket, he pulled out a keyring. Multiple keys hung off it in a jumbled mess.

  “Peter?” Carla called out, trying to judge if the man was in there or not.

  Bert listened hard, attempting to figure out if there were any response. Maybe he wasn’t in there at all.

  But then the low, almost inaudible sound of a hiss caught her ears. Was it a radiator . . . or something else entirely?

  “Hurry,” Bert urged him. The sensation of dread was rising from the pit of her stomach and up into her throat. There was definitely something wrong here, something very wrong.

  “I’m trying,” he replied, fumbling with the keys to get a hold of the right one. Finally locating the key, he needed, he jammed it into the deadbolt and turned it. Swinging the door open into the room, the three of them all froze in place like they’d just looked into the eyes of Medusa.

  Curled up on top of the pastor’s desk was the bulk of the gray snake—the black mamba. Peter w
as slumped in the far corner, his eyes wide with horror. At first, it appeared the snake was staring at the figure hunched in the corner, but upon their loud entrance, it turned its head to face the trio.

  Bobbing back and forth, it opened its black mouth in a threatening measure.

  “B-Bert? G-go get animal control,” Carla whispered, too afraid to move.

  “Going,” she whispered back. Bert, who was the furthest back from the room, stepped away as carefully as she dared. Once completely out of sight of the snake, Bert rushed down the hallway just as a shadow disappeared around the corner and out the side door.

  Someone had been there.

  The sound of someone shuffling in the darkness outside was unmistakable.

  CHAPTER 13

  * * *

  Hurriedly locating the animal control vehicle, she was relieved to find Karson sitting there. Knocking desperately on his window, she tried to get attention.

  “Bert? What is it?” he asked, rolling down his window.

  “The black mamba, it’s inside,” she gasped.

  Quick as lighting, he was out of the car. “Where?”

  “In Pastor Chimney’s office. Peter is trapped in there.”

  Flinging the back doors of the truck open, he retrieved all the necessary tools. “Call the animal control office. Tell them to send a team immediately.”

  “Doing it now,” she told him, dialing the phone.

  “Also, call an ambulance to be here on the scene just in case someone gets a bite.”

  The phone was already ringing through to animal control by that point, and Karson took it as a sign to run inside.

  In a matter of five minutes, the parking lot was a mess of emergency vehicles and workers all hustling back and forth. Bert felt like a confused ant lost among the busy colony. The rain had picked up as well, creating a shiny wet coating over everything, but Bert hardly even noticed. She was so preoccupied with the craziness, that she almost didn’t spot the detective arrive in a police cruiser.

  “Bert,” he called, approaching her.

  “Detective Mannor?”

  “I heard the call come in. You found the black mamba?”

  She nodded. “It’s in there with Carla, Peter, and the pastor.”

  “Anyone bitten?”

  She shook her head. “I hope not.”

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “I’m fine.” She looked up at him and realized there was an ever so slight upturn in his eyebrows. Was that a look of worry, concern for her wellbeing?

  Straightening his mouth, whatever the expression had been disappeared into his usual stern seriousness.

  The side door opened and the trio of friends walked out of the building and stood under the awning, just out of the rainfall. “Oh, thank goodness. Here they are.” Bert darted over, jumping ahead of the paramedics.

  “Don’t worry, we’re all okay,” Pastor Chimney called to her.

  “No one was bitten?” one of the paramedics asked.

  “No. We are all okay, but they still have to secure the snake,” he noted.

  “It’s still loose?” Bert gasped.

  “They have it cornered, but need to get it in the protective cloth bag and finally into the cage.”

  “We’ll stick around until they give the all clear,” the paramedic affirmed to them, heading back over to the ambulance and leaving them alone.

  “Any idea how the snake got in?” Detective Mannor asked, stepping up the concrete stairs.

  Everyone glanced at Peter. “You were the one who found it first,” the pastor pointed out.

  Peter looked flabbergasted, only managing a shrug. “All I know is that I was in the office cleaning the windows when I heard this hissing noise. I turned around to see that snake lifting itself up onto the desk, staring at me the whole time.”

  “It was just there?” Mannor pressed, not convinced about the story yet.

  “I wanted to scream out, call for help, but didn’t dare. If I startled it, I knew it would strike. It seemed better to stay completely still and not draw too much of its attention.”

  The detective folded his arms. “It sounds like you know a whole lot about what to do with a snake in an emergency situation like this.”

  Peter swallowed with some difficulty. “Well, I have taken a few notes from Kay, back when we were friends.”

  “But when we first spoke, you said you didn’t know anything about snakes.”

  “Not enough to handle them properly and safely,” he defended loudly.

  “I think you’re barking up the wrong tree, detective,” Bert gave her two cents worth.

  “I’ll be the judge of that,” Mannor argued.

  “She may be right, detective. Perhaps the snake just found its way into the building through an open door or window?”

  “Now, why would there be an open door or window? Didn’t animal control instruct you to keep the place sealed up as tightly as possible?”

  Pastor Chimney held up his hands. “I tried to follow their instructions to a T, but that doesn’t mean someone else didn’t leave something open. Besides, it’s an old building. There could be any number of ways for it to get in.”

  The detective groaned, shaking his head. “I don’t like that answer.”

  “We don’t know what else to tell you,” the pastor admitted.

  “None of you saw anything, heard anything that might give me a hint of what happened here tonight?”

  “It was an accident pure and simple,” Peter snapped.

  “I’m not so sure about that,” Mannor stated firmly, glaring at the group in front of him.

  “Coming through. Make way,” Karson shouted, coming out the door with a cloth bag with the animal control center’s logo on it. He held it out as far from his body as possible all while something large wriggled all about inside.

  Everyone darted aside to let him through while one of his men ran ahead and opened the secure cage. In a quick and professional manner, Karson had the snake in the cage and locked it tight.

  Bert felt a sickening shiver run through her whole body just at the sight of the thing.

  “That’s that,” he sighed in relief.

  “Now what?” Carla asked.

  “Now it goes back to the zoo where it belongs,” Karson confirmed.

  Suddenly, Bert had a realization hit her like a ton of bricks and she let out an audible gasp.

  Spinning to look at her with his inquisitive stare, Detective Mannor stepped closer. “Bert, you’ve thought of something, haven’t you?” It was disturbing how fast he was learning to read her.

  She looked up at her friends and back at the detective. “Come here,” she told him, stepping past everyone else and into the darkness of the building—despite Carla’s frustrated expression about being left out.

  It felt good to get out of the chilly rain.

  Once they were out of earshot, Mannor looked down at her with a knowing stare. “Okay. I know when you’ve got an idea in your head.”

  “I know who may be behind all of this.”

  “And?”

  She hesitated, not wanting to say what it was she had in mind. “I think . . . it was Kay who put the snake in the office tonight.”

  CHAPTER 14

  * * *

  “Do you have any proper evidence to back up this claim?” he asserted, pulling out his notepad. Realizing it was wet from the rain, he irritably shoved it back in his pocket.

  “Tonight, right after we found the snake, I ran out to get help.”

  “And you saw something?”

  She nodded. “A shadow.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “A shadow?”

  “I also heard something. A shuffling noise, like someone dragging a bum leg.”

  It took a moment for him to catch on, but eventually the detective’s eyes widened. “You mean, like Kay’s leg? The way he walks?”

  “Exactly. He was bitten by a black mamba years ago in Africa, he told me. That’s why he limps.”

/>   Mannor scratched his own chin. “Well, it isn’t perfect, but it’s something to go on at least. Anything else?”

  “Carla and I deduced that the snake in Peter’s trunk last night was meant to kill him, not Talia.”

  Mannor nodded. “I suppose that makes sense.”

  “Kay seemed pretty angry when I was talking to him.”

  “Angry about what?”

  “About Peter, for some reason. I don’t know what their fight is actually about, but maybe it was enough for him to want to kill Peter?”

  Tightening his coat, the detective turned toward the doorway. “I’ll have to do some digging to see if you’re right, but it’s a lead, at least.” With a flick of his coat, he was out the door and into the rain without even a goodbye.

  Bert let out a low sigh as the hallway around her became deathly quiet.

  “I thought we were friends, Bert,” came a whisper from the shadows.

  Spinning around on her heel, she nearly stumbled backwards when she spotted Kay standing there staring at her through the darkness. “K-Kay. What are you doing here?”

  His stone expression didn’t move. “I thought you already knew? I mean, you just told the detective a second ago that you think it was me who left the snake in the office.”

  Bert’s mouth went dry. He’d overheard their entire conversation, and his mere presence there in the church seemed to solidify her theory in her mind. Attempting to remain calm, she folded her arms in a defensive stance, glancing toward the outside door where she knew her friends—and the detective—were. “You heard all of that, huh?”

  “I heard enough,” he whispered harshly.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I thought you were on my side.”

  Bert was taken aback by this comment “Your side? There are no sides, Kay, where murder is involved—except the side of right.”

  “I didn’t murder anyone, Bert. I’m telling you.”

  His deep tone wasn’t convincing her. “Did you put that snake in there tonight? Were you trying to finish the job you started?”

  “I didn’t do it, Bert. I’m promising you.”