Trick or Treat Murder

by Leslie Meier

  Jared raised his hands above his head in a victory sign and dashed forward, throwing in a karate kick for good measure. He was dressed in a bright blue Mighty Morphin Power Ranger suit, and was clearly living the role. He grinned boldly when he received his trophy, revealing a mouth full of mostly missing teeth. The kid was an imp, a real crowd pleaser, and everyone clapped for him, including his grandmother, Dot.

  Recalling Dot Kirwan's excellent connections, her son was a police officer and her daughter was the dispatcher at the fire department, Lucy sidled over to her.

  "What a cute kid," she said.

  "Oh, Jared's a handful. I don't know how you youngsters manage. This must be the new baby," she cooed, slipping her finger inside Zoe's clenched fist.

  "She's been awfully good tonight, but I have to confess my back is killing me," Lucy said with a sigh.

  "Those baby carriers are great, though. I wish we'd had them," said Dot.

  "I don't know what I'd do without it," agreed Lucy. "Listen, Dot, what do you think about all these fires? Have you heard anything?"

  "Actually," said Dot, leaning closer, "I think they're close to solving the case."

  "Really? That would be such a relief. I've been so worried, especially since Doug's place burned. You know all the members of the commission got threatening phone calls?"

  "Well, I don't want to mention any names," she nodded knowingly, "but I don't think you have to worry anymore."

  Lucy was about to answer when she heard Stubby's name called.

  Kicking the floor bashfully with his toe, Stubby stepped forward. He was dressed in one of Barney's old uniforms, cut down to size, Lucy guessed, by Marge. His heavy utility belt was complete with genuine handcuffs, a toy pistol, and a walkie-talkie.

  "This prize is for the most authentic costume," said Sammy. "Say, Officer, don't arrest me, okay?"

  "You're under arrest!" yelled Stubby, reaching for the handcuffs.

  "Whoa," said Sammy. "If you handcuff me I wont be able to give you your prize."

  He presented Stubby with a handsome trophy, and raised his hands over his head. "I give up, Officer," said Sammy. "Please, don't shoot."

  Stubby pulled out his gun, waved it, and returned to the lit¬tle gang of boys. They clustered around him, examing his prize. Lucy was smiling her approval when she heard Bill's name called.

  "This prize is for the adult who absolutely does not care how ridiculous he looks, and I think you'll all agree that Bill Stone took a bit of a fashion risk tonight," said Sammy.

  Everyone laughed as Bill stepped forward.

  "Man, you are one ugly bumblebee," said Sammy. "I'd sure hate to meet you in the flower garden."

  "You don't have to worry. My buzz is a lot worse than my sting," said Bill, turning to model his aluminum foil stinger.

  Everybody clapped and cheered as he accepted his trophy, and gave the crowd a wave.

  "Well, that concludes this portion of the program," said Sammy. "Let's party!" He flipped a switch, and the performer who used to be called Prince began encouraging everyone to "Party like it's 1999."

  "Shall we dance?" asked Bill.

  "I'm bushed," said Lucy. "I'd like to go home."

  "Okay," he said. "You find the kids and I'll get the coats. Meet you in the foyer."

  Lucy beckoned to Elizabeth and Sara, and led them to the hall, where they met Toby, along with Eddie, Richie, Adam, and Stubby.

  "Toby, it's time to go."

  "Aw, Mom, I don't wanna go home yet."

  "It's late, and I'm too tired to argue ..."

  "It's not late," replied Toby. "It's not even nine o'clock."

  "Don't talk back to me. It's time to go." Lucy was exhausted and she was in no mood for a discussion. "Get a move on," she snapped, not caring that she was embarrassing Toby in front of his friends.

  "Leaving already?" asked Barney.

  "I'm trying," said Lucy.

  "That's a shame," said Barney. "The party's not over, and I promised the boys I'd take them trick-or-treating for a bit."

  "Oh, I don't know," said Lucy, sensing that the battle had turned and she was losing.

  "What's up?" asked Bill, materializing with his arms full of coats and jackets.

  "Toby wants to stay and go trick-or-treating with the boys," explained Lucy. "What do you think?"

  "No problem," said Bill. "Be home by ten at the latest, okay?"

  "Sure, Dad," said Toby. "I promise."

  "Relax, Lucy," said Barney. "I'll keep an eye on them. They won't get into any trouble."

  "Okay," said Lucy, with a sigh of resignation. She'd heard that line before, last year, when the boys decorated the middle school principal's hedge with toilet paper. Toby had narrowly escaped suspension; he was lucky to get off with two weeks of after-school detention.

  "I thought the whole point of this party was to keep kids off the streets," complained Lucy to Bill as they strolled down the hill to the car. "That way, they could have a safe Halloween, and have fun, too. And parents wouldn't have to go out of their minds worrying."

  "Lucy, he'll be fine," said Bill, opening the car door.

  "I'd feel a lot better if he was coming home with us," said Lucy, climbing in.

  "Girls, what did you think of the party?" asked Bill, starting the engine.

  "It was fun," said Sara.

  "I don't see why Toby gets to stay and I have to go home," complained Elizabeth.

  "I don't either," said Lucy, in rare agreement with her daughter. "It's too bad the weather's been so dry. If we'd had rain tonight, the boys wouldn't be able to stay out."

  "Lucy, stop being a spoil-sport. You can't keep him tied to your apron strings forever. A boy's got to have some freedom. What's the world coming to if a kid can't have a few adventures on Halloween?"

  "I guess you're right," Lucy said, thinking that she would feel a whole lot better if Toby was coming home with the rest of the family.

  Looking out the car window as they drove along, Lucy noticed shadowy figures flitting from door to door. Passing one house, she saw a group of costumed children gathered on a brightly lit porch, where the festive decorations promised a generous welcome. Little white ghosts dangled from the porch roof, and a string of glowing pumpkin lights had been wrapped around the railing.

  Cornstalks stood on either side of the door, sporting cheerful orange ribbons. A stuffed scarecrow lounged on the porch swing. The door opened and the group surged forward, eager to receive the treats a plump, grandmotherly woman was distributing. It could have been a scene from a Norman Rockwell painting.

  She couldn't help smiling. Trick-or-treating was lots of fun, and where could it be safer than in a small New England town like Tinker's Cove?

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  When they got home, Lucy took baby Zoe upstairs and laid her down in the center of the big bed, still zipped in the corduroy baby carrier. She was sleeping soundly and Lucy didn't want to risk waking her.

  She bent over the bed, arranging the baby, then straightened up. Arching her back and stretching, she tried to work out the kinks. Her back ached from wearing the baby carrier for such a long time.

  "Did you have a good time, girls?" she asked, poking her head in the bathroom. Sara and Elizabeth were washing their faces.

  "I would have had a better time if you didn't make me come home early," whined Elizabeth.

  "Toby gets to do whatever he wants. It's not fair."

  "Life's not fair," said Lucy, picking up a brush and combing out her oldest daughter's hair.

  "I don't see why Jared Kirwan won for his costume," fumed Elizabeth. "It was store bought. Mine was more original."

  "What about you, pumpkin," said Lucy, turning to Sara. "Did you have a good time?"

  "Daddy was funny," she said with a big smile. Her face was bright pink from the energetic scrubbing she'd given it. "I liked when he got the prize."

  "Yeah, that was okay," Elizabeth agreed.

  "Into your pajamas," Lucy urged, shooing them
out so she could take possession of the bathroom. "I'll be in to kiss you good night."

  She pulled off the baseball cap and shook out her hair. Then she washed her face with cool water. She hoped the baby would sleep well tonight, she could really use a good night's sleep. Tomorrow would be a long day—they were planning to attend the memorial service for Monica in Brookline. If there was time, she thought, maybe they could stop in at the hospital on the way home and visit Jennifer.

  The girls were already in bed when Lucy went in to them. Elizabeth was reading Roald Dahl's Witches, but she put it down and climbed in bed with Sara when Lucy opened up Tasha Tudor's Pumpkin Moonshines. Both girls listened raptly as Lucy read the the story of a little girl's adventures with a huge jack-o'-lantern.

  "I wish I could have a dress and bonnet like Sylvie," sighed Sara, pointing to one of the charming illustrations of Sylvie in her old-fashioned clothes.

  "I wish I could paint my fingernails black," said Elizabeth.

  "Time to go to sleep," said Lucy, closing the tiny book. She leaned over and kissed Sara on the top of her head. Sara reached up and wrapped her arms around her in a tight hug. Lucy squeezed back, glad that Sara was still a little girl who loved to hug her mommy. "Nighty-night," she said, tucking the covers around her. "Sleep tight."

  "Can I read for a while?" asked Elizabeth, who had returned to her own bed.

  "It's past your bedtime."

  "It's Saturday. I don't have school tomorrow."

  "It will disturb your sister."

  "I'll use a flashlight."

  "Okay," Lucy said, reaching down and caressing her cheek. "Not too late, now," she said, giving her oldest daughter a quick peck on the cheek. "Good night." She turned out the light.

  Closing the girls' door, Lucy leaned against it for a minute. The party had thrown off her usual evening routine, and she wasn't quite sure what to do. Zoe was still sleeping soundly and she hated to disturb her. On the other hand, if she changed her diaper and nursed her now she might sleep through the night.

  She was still weighing the decision when a whimper from the bedroom made it for her. She went into the nursery to get a diaper but discovered the basket was empty. With all the baking and planning for the party she had gotten behind in the laundry. She would have to get a disposable from the diaper bag.

  Where had she left it? It wasn't on the kitchen chair where she usually dropped it. Was it in the car? With a flash of clarity she remembered shoving it under her chair when she had coffee at the party. It was probably still there.

  "Bill, I left the diaper bag..." she began, intending to ask him to retrieve it for her. But Bill was sound asleep in his recliner, the zoning bylaws still in his hand.

  "I might as well go get it myself," she decided, checking the baby who had settled back into a deep sleep. "I can be back in ten minutes," she said to herself, throwing on a jacket and grabbing the car keys.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  The Hallett House was dark and empty when Lucy arrived; it was the very image of a haunted house. She found this a bit disconcerting. She had expected to meet a few lingering party-goers, or at least the cleanup crew. Maybe even Toby and his band of trick- or- treaters.

  She checked the dashboard clock and saw it was later than she thought, past ten o'clock. That explained it, she reasoned. Those with kids had taken them home to bed, and the serious party types had gone on to the scattered nightspots in the area that featured local bands and cheap drinks.

  She hesitated, figuring the old house was probably locked up tight. Besides, the huge hulk of a mansion was not inviting as it loomed above her. This is too spooky, she thought, deciding to pick up a box of disposables at the Quik Stop.

  Don't be ridiculous, she argued with herself, reaching for the flashlight she kept in the car. It was worth a try. Going to the Quik Stop would take at least twenty minutes more, and she was afraid Zoe might wake up.

  As she climbed out of the car the full moon suddenly appeared from behind a cloud and the hill was flooded with light.

  A good omen, she thought, as she hauled herself up the steps to the big front door and reached for the knob. To her surprise, it turned.

  Lucy smiled. Thanks to someone's carelessness she would be able to grab the diaper bag and return home before she was missed.

  Inside, the foyer was pitch black. Moonlight could hardly penetrate where bright sunlight never reached, blocked by the dilapidated porch and gloomy stained-glass windows. Lucy switched on the flashlight and cast the beam around the room. The floor was littered with discarded cups, and crepe paper streamers dropped from the ceiling. Sue must have decided to put off the cleanup until tomorrow.

  Lucy heard a scuttling noise from one of the rooms beyond and shuddered. Probably mice, or even rats, after the crumbs. She didn't want to know which, she wanted to turn around and run out the door as quickly as her legs would take her.

  Instead, she stepped forward and hurried through the empty rooms, determined to find the bag and return home to her hungry baby. She could hear squeaks and groans, the old house seemed to have a life of its own. It certainly wasn't empty, it had plenty of inhabitants. And now that the party was over and the humans had left, they were reclaiming their territory.

  Lucy paused at the parlor door and explored the cavernous room with her flashlight, praying she would not encounter any pairs of glowing eyes. All clear. She was about a third of the way through the room when she heard something and instinctively stopped in her tracks, straining her ears.

  Nothing. She must have been mistaken. She advanced a few steps, and she heard it again. A crunching noise, like footsteps on gravel. It seemed to be coming from outside.

  She pointed the flashlight at the long windows, but the blank glass only bounced the reflection back at her.

  Lucy took a few more steps toward the drawing-room door on the opposite wall, and again heard the noise. When she moved, she heard the steps. When she stopped, they stopped. It was almost as if someone on the outside of the house was following her movements inside. She began to shiver and she felt the little hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Lucy could hear herself breathing; her breaths sounded loud, like roars. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She couldn't move, she couldn't even scream.

  Then she heard a sound she recognized—Toby's giggle.

  "Cut it out!" she yelled, as the adrenaline drained away in a great wave of relief. "Toby, I know it's you out there!"

  There was no answer, but after a minute or two she heard the boys running away. Great, she muttered to herself. So much for Barney's promise to keep an eye on the boys. It was getting late and they ought to be home in bed.

  Finally reaching the doorway, she paused and cast the light over and under chairs and tables, searching for the pink gingham diaper bag. She found it in the corner, exactly where she had left it, and dashed into the room to retrieve it. She was bending to pick it up when she sensed a presence behind her. She whirled around, fully intending to give the boys a scolding.

  "You boys should be ashamed..." she began, when there was a sudden explosion of bright, white light.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Lucy loved sniffing the clean scent of duplicating fluid, and she loved tunning her fingers over the slick smoothness of the paper. In a moment, when Mrs. Birchall gave the signal, she would open her eyes, turn over the paper, and begin work on the quiz.

  Always a good student, full of curiosity and eager to learn, Lucy enjoyed the challenge posed by tests and quizzes. A bright child, she had soon discovered that even if she didn't know the answer she could usually figure it out, or make a good guess. But what was taking Mrs. Birchall so long? Lucy opened her eyes a crack to take a peek.

  Something was wrong. She wasn't in Mrs. Birchall's third grade classroom. Even with her eyes wide open she couldn't see a thing. It was too dark. And her head throbbed. She probed cautiously with her fingers, and discovered a huge lump on her temple.

  She had been dreaming. That e
xplained it. She was flat on her back, in the dark, and she had a wicked headache. What she needed was some aspirin, and a big drink of water. Still groggy, she tried to sit up, but the effort made her head spin. She felt queasy. Her breasts tingled as her milk let down, and she reached for baby Zoe.

  There was no baby beside her; Bill wasn't there, either. There was only emptiness. She was lying on something hard, and gritty. She smelled dust, and something else, the reek of duplicating fluid. Panicking, she felt around with her hands. It was a dirt floor, a hard packed dirt floor. Where was she? Why wasn't she in bed?