A Killer Halloween: A Mt. Abrams Mystery (The Mt. Abrams Mysteries Book 3)

by Dee Ernst

  There was a knock on the door. Thank God. “Come in,” I yelled.

  Vivian Brewster came in, took one look at Shelly, and then sighed. “Oh.”

  “Viv,” I pleaded. “Help me. I have no idea what to say.”

  She threw off her brightly colored poncho and sat on the other side of Shelly. “This is a mess,” she said to me. “Shelly is pretty wrapped up in this. But so is James. He and I have talked this through, and I gotta tell you, the man is completely in love. He cannot see straight. So even though I usually start smacking people around about this sorta stuff, in this case, I think maybe it’s real.”

  Shelly nodded. “See? It’s not just me.”

  “But the boys…” My shoulders slumped. “Shelly, this will kill the boys.”

  Her eyes filled with tears again. “I know. I know. Everything about this is so awful, Ellie, but what am I supposed to do? Spend the rest of my life with Mike and the boys and always want to be with someone else?”

  “Well…” I looked over at Viv, who shrugged her shoulders.

  “I got nothin’,” she said.

  I sighed and looked at Boot. She wagged her stump of a tail, but didn’t offer help. I looked out at the lake.

  The colors were fading; the leaves had been dropping in the sudden cold, but the sun was shining off the water, and as always, something in my heart lifted.

  “We can figure this out, Shelly.” I said. “Of course we can. But please, don’t do anything just yet that can’t be undone, okay?”

  She sniffed. “Of course.”

  Viv nudged her, and when Shelly turned, Viv wagged her finger. “No sleeping with him. And I know how badly you must want it. But no. Ya got that?”

  Shelly turned beet red. “Do you know how hard…”

  “Yes,” Viv said.

  “Yes,” I said.

  And we all started to laugh.

  I got a lot of work done Sunday afternoon. Once I put Shelly out of my head, I found myself in the zone, that imaginary place where everything comes together. I even worked through lunch. And that hardly ever happens.

  When I finally did stop, my head was spinning and my stomach was growling. I found my phone and scrolled through some texts. Marc was on his way with Tessa. Cait was spending the night with Kyle. Sam sent a little emoji blowing kisses.

  I made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, wrapped myself in a throw, and then sat on the front porch. The sky had turned gray, and the wind was picking up, but the fresh air, plus the kick of carbs, felt great.

  Who killed Mr. Scarecrow?

  Somebody who knew where he’d be. That was anyone who could have looked at any of his social media. So pretty much anyone in the world.

  Somebody who wanted him dead. That was sticky. Was a junkie of an ex-girlfriend a viable candidate? Not really. At least, I didn’t think so. But I also thought it had to be someone close to Todd. Someone with a personal connection. Someone Todd would let get close enough to hit him with a hammer. Like his stepfather, whose marriage was in jeopardy. Or his brother, whose career was being dragged down.

  According to Sam, Todd had two calls come through before he was killed. One from a throwaway phone and one from Doug. Neither had left a message. Todd called both numbers back during his break.

  Doug said he was just checking up.

  The call from the throwaway—was that the call that took up all Todd’s time? Was it from one of his dealers? The ex-girlfriend?

  “It would be good to know who that second call was from,” I said aloud.

  There was a squirrel that had been running up and down the tree in my front yard. He stopped at the sound of my voice and looked at me, tail twitching.

  “I bet that was the call that set up the meeting behind Aggie’s house. But why would he walk all the way down to the parking lot to drop off his bag, then walk back up to meet someone twenty feet from where he just was? Why didn’t he just take the bag with him? Or leave it with Emma?”

  Squirrel made a noise.

  “That makes no sense. It’s really bothering me.”

  It must have bothered him too, because he scampered up the tree.

  Marc’s car pulled in, and Tessa bolted out of the car and ran to me.

  “Dad says I can spend winter break with Uncle Paul and go skiing.”

  I pulled her in for a hug. “That sounds like an amazing idea.”

  Marc loved to ski. I did not. In fact, I was generally against any activity that required me to spend lots of time outside in the cold and the snow. He had taught Cait and Tessa, and they both loved it. I had spent many married weekends curled up in front of a fire somewhere waiting for Marc and Cait to return from the slopes. During our divorce, when things could have turned ugly, Marc went out of his way to take the girls skiing on winter weekends. The fact that his brother owned a place just twenty minutes from the ski resort made those weekends more affordable than they would have been otherwise.

  Marc had her overnight bag with him as he came up. “I hope you don’t mind,” he said. “She and her cousin Lara sort of organized the whole week.”

  Tessa’s eyes were bright. “It’s okay, right? Uncle Paul can’t be there, but Aunt Suzie and the kids will. Dad said he’d stay the whole week too.”

  I looked past Tessa to Marc and raised my eyebrows. Marc thought his sister-in-law was a brainless, selfish bimbo who only lived for shopping and bragging about how superior her own children were compared to the world’s children in general.

  “It sounds great. Why don’t you take your stuff upstairs. It’s just you and me tonight, so I thought sushi?”

  She nodded, grabbed her bag from her father, and was gone.

  “You, Suzanne, and four kids in a log cabin with no cable.” I shook my head. “Oh, to be a fly on the wall.”

  He sat next to me, leaned over, and kissed me on the cheek. “You could come with us.”

  “I’d end up killing Suzanne and burying her under a snow drift.”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, she can be a little hard to take sometimes, but Tessa and Lara were really into it. Maybe Cait and Kyle could come.”

  “Kyle skis? I didn’t know that.”

  “Yes. You should think about coming, El. It would be nice to have the family together.” He grabbed my hand and laced his fingers with mine. “We really should be spending more time together, you and I.”

  I looked at him very carefully. This was the man who made me believe in soul mates. From the moment I had met him, I knew that he and I were meant to be together.

  Just like Shelly said she felt with James Fergus.

  I was older now, wiser, and a bit more cynical. Was that why what had happened once between Marc and I seemed to be something completely far-fetched and illogical now?

  Sam and I were very happy together, but as much as I felt a strong attraction to Sam on many levels, I wasn’t calling it love. I didn’t know him well enough. Or perhaps I knew myself too well.

  “Marc, we’ve been dancing around this for months.”

  “I know. And I don’t know why we’re not doing more things together. Or sleeping together. We still love each other, Ellie. You know that.”

  “I’m doing things with Sam.” I swallowed. “I’m sleeping with Sam. And I’m too old to be having sex with two men at the same time. I gave that up in my twenties, when I realized what a bad choice it was.”

  “It sounds like you’re choosing Sam over me.” He wasn’t looking at me. He stared out at the lake.

  “Shelly and Mike are having problems. He’s moving out for a while.”

  He turned to me, surprised. “Really? That’s too bad. I thought they’d be one of the couples who made it.”

  “She says she thinks she’s in love with someone else.”

  He swore. Marc was a man of words. He loved them, and used them carefully, but sometimes nothing was right for the moment but a good, old-fashioned f-bomb. “What has that got to do with us? Are you saying you’re in love?”

  “No.
I’m just saying that things happen. It’s hard to know what’s the best thing to do. Who’s the best person to spend your life with. Sometimes, you just have to wait until the dust settles.”

  He nodded. “And that’s what you’re doing?”

  “I guess.”

  He brought our joined hands to his lips and kissed the back of my hand. Hard. “I can wait,” he said, got up, and drove away.

  Chapter 6

  Monday morning it rained hard, so I knew there would be no walking around the lake. I waved good-bye to Tessa and took Boot for a quick walk up and down the street. Just letting her out the front door was not an option. She had been known to poop on the front porch rather than get her feet wet. She also had a habit of tearing off after any particularly suspicious-looking squirrel. Boot was one of those dogs that really belonged on a leash.

  Shelly texted me.

  Home from work. Mental health day. Viv is in the mood for pizza. You in?

  So here was the dilemma. No, I wasn’t supposed to be actively looking into Todd’s murder, and that meant not looking for the ex-girlfriend. But going out to lunch in Montclair wasn’t necessarily an extreme event. I’d had lunch there lots of times. And if Viv wanted pizza, who was I to argue?

  I texted her back.

  We can take the train. Leaves at 1045

  I loved the train. I had a fantasy about taking a train cross country, seeing the Rockies from the comfort of a dining car, complete with gourmet food and high-priced cocktails. Taking the NJ Transit commuter into Montclair wasn’t exactly the same thing, but I still felt like it was an adventure.

  The rain slowed to a drizzle by the time we got off at the Montclair station. Shelly wore a bright yellow slicker and had opened up her Met Museum umbrella. Viv had on a long trench coat. I almost expected her to whip out a fedora.

  “Where to first?” Shelly asked.

  I squinted at my phone. “According to Yelp, there are seventeen pizza restaurants in Montclair.”

  Viv looked thoughtful. “No way I can eat seventeen slices of pizza.”

  “I can’t either. But I think we can eliminate the nicer restaurants that happen to serve pizza. I doubt Eve is working at place with tablecloths and a wine list.”

  “True,” Shelly said. “Let’s find the closest place, sit down, and make a list.”

  We found a very clean but no-frills pizzeria. Our waitress was named Chloe. She didn’t know anyone named Eve. The slice with Coke I ordered was perfectly fine.

  “The good news is we’ve narrowed down the list,” I said. “Only six to go,”

  “That’s the good news?” Viv looked doubtful.

  “What are we going to do with all that pizza?” Shelly asked.

  “We’ll take them to go,” I told her. “Our kids will love us.”

  Viv tapped her brightly colored fingernails on the table. “Is this how Stephanie Plum started out?”

  I shook my head. “No. We’re blazing a new trail here.”

  We found Eve after the fourth slice. She was a very thin, pretty girl with natural-looking blonde hair and a paisley tattoo that ran from her bony shoulder down to her wrist. Her hair was pulled up in an untidy knot on the top of her head, and her dark eyes were outlined in black liner.

  “Need menus?” she asked after we sat down.

  This called for an extended stay, so I manned up and ordered two slices. Viv managed one. Shelly, more health conscious, asked for a small salad and water.

  “She doesn’t look pregnant,” I said after she left.

  “Doesn’t look old enough to drive, either,” Viv murmured.

  “How are we supposed to start a conversation with her?” I wondered.

  “We could try the straight-ahead approach,” Shelly said, watching Eve behind the counter. “You know, hey, Eve, did you kill Todd Richter?”

  I gave her a look. “Shelly, you’re supposed to be honing your skills.”

  She sighed. “Sorry, Obi-Wan. I’m in a pizza coma.”

  “I say we just go for it,” Viv said. “I’m tired and cranky, and I need a nap. And I’m done with pizza.”

  Eve returned with our drinks. It was after two, and the place was empty except for us. As she turned away, Viv cleared her throat.

  “Listen, Eve, We’re hoping you can help us out.”

  Eve turned, her eyes narrowed. “With what?”

  “Well,” Shelly said. “We’re from Mt. Abrams.”

  Eve shrugged. “So?”

  We glanced at each other. She was either an excellent actress, or she’d never heard of the place.

  “The place where Todd was killed?” Viv said gently.

  Eve’s lips tightened, and her jaw clenched. “The police have already talked to me. I was working Halloween night. Right here. I didn’t kill him.”

  “Of course you didn’t,” Viv soothed. “We were just going to ask you about his other friends. You know, was he fighting with anyone?”

  Eve shook her head. “No. I mean, no more than usual. Todd rubbed a lot of people the wrong way. He wasn’t…nice.” She was looking down, twisting the corner of her red apron between bony fingers. “He wasn’t nice to me, anyway.”

  Shelly made sympathetic noises. “When you heard he was killed, did a name jump out at you? Did you suddenly think, wow, so-and-so finally did it?”

  Eve nodded. “Of course.”

  Shelly leaned forward. “Who?”

  “Doug. His brother, Doug.”

  “You know what bothers me the most?” Viv asked.

  We were back home. Well, almost. Tessa had texted that she was staying after school, so we’d stopped in at Zeke’s. Viv was having a martini, while Shelly and I opted for white wine. Zeke’s was a low-key neighborhood place, right next to the train station. It had good food, cheap drinks, and because we could walk home, no one needed to be the designated driver

  “Tell me,” I said.

  “Why did Todd walk all the way down to the parking lot just to drop off his stuff? I mean, he was meeting somebody, right in Aggie’s back yard. Why didn’t he just walk out of Emma’s and go next door?”

  I stared into my wine. “That bothers me, too. Obviously, he planned to meet someone there. It just doesn’t make sense.”

  “What does Sam say about it?” Shelly asked.

  I drank some wine. “Sam and I aren’t discussing this, remember?”

  Viv snorted. “You gotta tweak your pillow talk, girlfriend.”

  “Maybe he wasn’t planning on going to Aggie’s at all,” Shelly said. “Maybe he was walking down to the parking lot and met somebody who said, hey let’s talk.”

  Viv leaned forward. “So, they were in the parking lot, and Todd said, hey let me drop this bag off and we can go somewhere more private, and that’s how he ended up back up the hill.”

  “Then, it had to be a Mt. Abrams person,” I said slowly. “Someone who knew that Aggie’s house was empty.”

  “But Doug said he saw Todd, and that he dropped off the bag and headed back,” Shelly said. “He must have run into whoever on his way down to the lot.”

  “We need to find somebody who saw Todd walkin’,” Viv said. “’Cause you know somebody did. In fact, I bet a whole lotta folks saw all sorts of things without realizing what they were lookin’ at.”

  “There aren’t too many houses down that way,” I said. “Most of the trick-or-treat action is above Sommerfield. Who do we know down there who we can talk to?”

  Viv raised her eyebrows. “You mean, besides Mary Rose?”

  “Somebody on Morris,” I said. “Way down by Route 51.”

  We thought. Well, I thought. Shelly and Viv looked like they were thinking

  “Lynn Fahey,” Shelly blurted. “She’s down on Carver.”

  I pulled out my phone. “That’s right. Good job. I forget about Lynn sometimes.”

  Viv made a rude noise. “How is that even possible? The woman has her fingers in every little pot.”

  I texted Lynn.

&nb
sp; R u around? Have ??? about Halloween.

  “You know what else bothers me?” I said, watching my phone for a reply. “The hammer. If this was a crime of passion, then you have to accept that the killer used whatever was around, and a hammer just happened to be in Aggie’s back yard? If it was premeditated, don’t you think the killer would have spent a little time looking for a better weapon?”

  “Better than what?” Viv asked. “Seems to me that hammer did a fine job. But I see your point. It’s a little odd.”

  “On the way home, let’s stop and talk to Emma. Maybe she was doing work in her garden and left a hammer laying around.” My phone sat there, silent. Lynn was not getting back to me. I picked it up and stared at it. Still silent.

  “Which means the killer was not just a Mt. Abrams person, but a Mt. Abrams person whose kid was drinking cider and eating doughnuts in Emma’s garden,” Shelly said.

  We looked at each other.

  “Well, that sucks,” Viv said, and drank the rest of her martini.

  Emma, of course, wanted to give us tea and home baked cookies, and normally, that would have been perfect on such a gray and chilly afternoon. But Viv had begged off halfway up the hill, and Shelly wanted to get home and enjoy the rest of her afternoon by napping. Being the good friend that I am, I completely understood.

  “Emma, we’re just here for a couple of questions,” I explained. She had a cozy fire going, and all her cats were curled up on one over-stuffed chair. She sighed, and we all sat down.

  “I tell you, I’m very upset about what’s been happening around me the past several months,” she said, pulling her sweater closer around her. “I think some sort of all-out purification needs to happen. Mt. Abrams is in a very bad way.”

  “You may be right, Emma,” Shelly said. “But right now, we’re confused about the hammer that was used to kill poor Todd. Had you been working on anything in your garden? Repairing one of your benches or a trellis?”

  She took a quick breath in. “Are you suggesting that my hammer was a murder weapon?”

  “No, of course not,” Shelly said.

  “But we were wondering where a hammer may have come from,” I said.