A Killer Maize

by Paige Shelton

  “Then why didn’t you listen to him?”

  Lucy sighed. “Because the Bellings brothers are stubborn and wanted to bring in an expert. The fair was too important to . . . well, never mind that part. They didn’t ask Scott to check the rides, he did that on his own. They wanted him to stick only to the job he was given and they’d find someone else to look at the rides.”

  “The shooting gallery?”

  “No . . .” Lucy’s eyes flashed, and she put her fist to her mouth. “I’ve said too much. I apologize but I can’t continue.” She moved her hand away and looked at me intensely. “I know Scott’s wife, Susan. I know her well. It’s not my place to tell you, but you should ask him what her maiden name is. Without telling you the secrets I’m not so good at keeping, knowing that might help you understand more.” She turned and walked away, marking something on her clipboard as she went.

  My plans to go home suddenly changed.

  Dianna was no longer manning the cauldron; I didn’t see Ward or Jerry either. In fact, other than Lucy, who hadn’t donned a costume, none of the workers looked familiar. I suspected there were teenagers under all the fake gore and makeup, but if I had seen or met any of them before, I didn’t recognize them now.

  The next two things that happened were almost the last two things I expected to happen. I would have been less surprised to see my family or even Ian walking through the entrance of and into the corn maze. Instead, I saw Sam, or at least that’s who I thought I saw.

  Since the entire fairgrounds was in a valley, and the sun had mostly set, the maze, animal barn, and surrounding area were now lit with artificial light posts that had been dressed up to look like fire-burning torches. My eyes could have been playing tricks on me, but I was pretty certain I’d seen Sam disappear into the maze. The person had been classic casual Sam, dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved black T-shirt. And despite the full-coverage outfit, I could tell the guy was in great shape. And his hair was only slightly set free, making me think that if it was Sam, he had been at work earlier.

  I wasn’t ready to chase him into the maze. My curiosity hadn’t caused me to lose all my good senses. But the next thing that happened changed everything again, and I do mean everything.

  I had looked down briefly to make sure I didn’t step on any small toes. I wanted to at least take a peek into the maze’s opening to see if I could catch Sam. But when I glanced up again, I saw something that stopped me in my tracks.

  Okay, to be fair, the area was crowded with people, many of them in costume. What I saw might have just been someone playing or pretending or acting a role.

  A woman who looked almost exactly like the pictures I’d seen of Jena Bellings stood on the inside of the small roped-off entrance to the maze. She stared at me, specifically at me, through the crowd of people. She shook her head and held her hands out in a halt position. Apparently, this woman agreed with me about entering corn mazes.

  I wanted to go talk to her, but as two large wolflike costumes passed in front of me, she disappeared. When I looked again as I hurried to the maze, she was gone.

  “Hey, where did that woman go?” I asked the teenage skeleton who was taking tickets.

  “What woman?”

  “The one dressed like . . . well, a gypsy or a witch.”

  The skeleton laughed. “I’ll need something more specific. There’re lots of people like that around here, lady. Look around.”

  I did, and he was mostly right. There were a few kid witches here and there, most of them less realistic and much shorter than the woman I’d seen.

  “She might have gone in there.” The skeleton pointed at the corn maze opening. “I don’t always pay attention to who I’m taking tickets from.”

  “Thanks.”

  I was not going into the corn maze.

  Nope, not me.

  I could just as easily wait at the exit.

  “How long does it take to go through the maze?” I asked.

  “Depends. If you just walk through, not long. But most people either get lost or like to get lost or like to goof around or like to be scared. That can take some time.”

  I gulped.

  Why in the world would Sam Brion have gone into the corn maze? The more time ticked by, the more I thought I was mistaken about having seen him.

  But who had I seen?

  I’d hang out by the exit for a few minutes and then be done. Lucy didn’t need me to do anything. I could go check on George and the kitten. I could make some preserves.

  The exit wasn’t all that far from the entrance, but it was surrounded by small food carts. Jerry’s corn-dog trailer might have worked here, but it seemed this was more about sweets than anything else, specifically cotton candy, caramel corn, and kettle corn. Normally, I would have indulged in at least one of them, but my stomach wasn’t on an even enough keel to add some sugar to it.

  I’d been loitering by the exit for about three minutes when it suddenly occurred to me that I was being more than ridiculous. Small children were entering and exiting the corn maze and they all seemed to be fine, having a good time actually. If small children were going through it, surely I could handle it. I only saw one upset child and that was because she’d dropped her cotton candy.

  Besides, I could always turn around and leave if I didn’t like it.

  I bought a ticket quickly and handed it to the skeleton before I could reconsider.

  “Go on in,” he encouraged me when I held up the line behind me.

  Stepping over the threshold and into the stalks of corn turned out to be not so frightening. It wasn’t the most enjoyable thing I’d ever done, but it certainly wasn’t as confining as I’d thought it would be. Even though the corn was tall, the path was wide.

  As I stepped just a little farther forward, though, I realized that my venturing into the maze was pure lunacy. It was a maze, with offshoot paths going every which direction. I would never be able to find Sam in here. Chances of running into him were slim at best, and that was only if I’d really seen him enter.

  Nevertheless, I moved forward.

  Scary masks hung from poles. People in costumes lurked in corners, but they seemed to be making an effort not to scare little children or the short grown-ups who crossed their arms in front of themselves and tried to look mean.

  For a while I sauntered down the aisles with my arms crossed tightly, but it wasn’t long before I was bored with the whole thing, and though I was battling well the sense of claustrophobia that was creeping up on me, I thought that I probably needed to find a way out sooner rather than later. Corn mazes just weren’t my style.

  Since finding the way out was supposed to be difficult, I tried to tell myself to just be patient and try each path. Again, though, since it was a maze, the paths were meant to be confusing.

  I thought I heard movement in the stalks next to me as I turned a corner. I stepped back and peered into the gloom. It was difficult to tell, but I thought I saw someone in there. I crossed my arms again and scowled at the potential figure in the corn. No one was close by, so I leaned forward and said, “Do not jump out of that corn and scare me, got it?”

  I received no response, but as I took a step forward, the stalks rustled. I didn’t look back as I hurried forward.

  I could hear other people in the paths nearby, but no one was close enough to witness what happened next.

  The figure in the corn reached out, put one hand over my mouth and another around my waist, and pulled me into the stalks.

  I panicked of course, but the first thought that went through my mind was “I knew I should have stayed out of the corn maze.”

  Twenty-four

  “Becca, it’s me. Quit trying to bite me and don’t scream,” Scott said in my ear.

  I turned my neck and looked at him. He was dressed all in black, including a b
lack cap over his head.

  I elbowed him in the gut.

  “Ooomph,” he exclaimed, but he pulled his hand off my mouth. “What’d you do that for?”

  “Because you pulled me into corn maze, covered my mouth, and told me not to scream. I’m probably going to scream, too.”

  “No, don’t. Please.”

  “Then you’d better tell me what’s going on right this minute,” I said. I was pretty proud of myself that I hadn’t started crying. The terror of having been accosted was still crashing through my system; I was shaking and felt my throat tighten.

  “I can’t.”

  “What do you mean, you can’t?” I swiped a stalk out of my face. “Why not?”

  “I’m undercover. And telling people you’re a spy defeats the purpose.”

  Okay, you have to understand that hearing these words from Scott was akin to hearing them from a child pretending to be a spy. I didn’t want to be patronizing and I didn’t want to think he was being childish, but I’d spent a lot of our married years dealing with his childishness. Even though he’d become a part-time EMT, I had a hard time thinking of him as anything other than the guy I’d married and then divorced.

  “Uh,” I finally uttered.

  “Yes, I’m undercover. I’m trying to catch a killer.”

  “In the corn maze?”

  “Yes, I think this is his last chance to kill who he’s come to kill. I want to catch him before it happens. It’s easy to accost someone in here. I got you, didn’t I? I saw you and was afraid he’d try to kill you, too. You’ve been too nosy.”

  “How do I know you’re not the killer?”

  “Come on, you know me well enough to know I’m not a killer. A lady-killer maybe, but not a real killer.” His attempt to be charming in the midst of . . . everything that was going on was . . . so Scott.

  I sighed. “Did I see Sam?”

  “I think so. He’s been trying to help me. We bonded over your cut chin. Since he’s in law enforcement and the locals aren’t much help, I asked him for his opinion and he’s jumped in to help.”

  “Don’t suppose you could give me a Reader’s Digest version of what’s going on and then get me out of here before you find the killer.”

  “There’s not a lot of time, but the short, short version is that Virgil came to Orderville twenty years ago as part of WITSEC—the Federal Witness Protection Program or Witness Security Program. He and one other person had witnessed a brutal crime, and they were placed here by the program after they’d testified at the trial. Somehow the bad guys figured out where Virgil and the other witness were. They sent someone here to kill them both.”

  “I don’t understand. How do you know Virgil was a witness, but you don’t know who the other one was?”

  “Virgil went to the Bellings brothers and told them he’d been receiving mail, notes from someone within the person’s family he’d testified against. This person risked his or her own life to tell Virgil and presumably the other witness that they’d been found and they were in danger. Virgil told the brothers about his past, but he wouldn’t give up who the other witness was, though he said he’d been trying to keep an eye on them.”

  “Randy or Dianna?”

  “Yes, we think so. They’re the only logical guesses, but they aren’t telling either. The Bellingses sent me to the fair to watch over the three of them as best I could.”

  “You? Why you?”

  “I’m part of the family, but no one really knows me. My wife hasn’t been back to Orderville for years. The Bellingses needed someone they could trust, so they went to family. My wife is none-too-happy, though,” he said.

  “Susan Bellings?” I said.

  “Yes, I thought you knew.”

  “I would only have known if someone told me.” I paused. “Does Susan look like her grandmother? Is she back in town?”

  “She’s the spittin’ image of Jena, but no, she and Brady won’t come home until this is over.”

  “So you think you’ll catch the killer here, this evening? Why?”

  “Yes, the threats that Virgil received said that both witnesses would be killed by this night, this night of ‘gypsy magic.’”

  “Come on,” I said, but a chill ran up my spine nonetheless.

  “I know, but it’s something that feels real around here. Or that people say feels real. It’s a big part of the reason Susan hasn’t been back in years and doesn’t ever want to come back.”

  “Did the killer sabotage the roller coaster?”

  “No, no. That bucket of bolts was bound to fall apart. I tried to . . . well, it’s not important now, but no, it wasn’t sabotage. I’ll deal with trying to help the authorities understand that later.”

  “What about outside of the corn maze? Who’s watching for a killer out there?”

  “Lucy, some local police officers and security guards. Look, you need to get out of here, get back home to Monson,” Scott said.

  “What about everybody else? Shouldn’t the maze be shut down?”

  “Sam tried to get the Bellings brothers to do as much, but they didn’t think it was necessary—and they’re superstitious. So Sam and I think that the killer will only try to harm those who are a threat to him. We don’t think anyone but the remaining witness is in danger, and neither Randy nor Dianna is willing to hide. And maybe you’re in danger, too since you’ve been snooping around.”

  “Is it just you and Sam . . . what, patrolling inside the maze?”

  “Yes.”

  “There are children everywhere.”

  “I know. That’s mostly why we’re here, Becs. We’re trying to do what we can.”

  I squelched the urge to yell “Fire!” and get everyone out of the maze. I had a very bad feeling about this sketchy plan, but causing a panic wasn’t the right thing to do.

  “So, there’s a chance nothing will happen?”

  “That’s what we’re hoping. You need to just go now,” he said.

  “Point me in the right direction.”

  “There’s an orange string around the bottom of the stalks at each intersection. That will guide you. Stick to the paths with the strings.”

  “Great.”

  Somehow, Scott took me directly to an open aisle. We waited until there were no people close by before I erupted from the stalks. It was great to be free. I hurried to an intersection and looked down. About a foot into one of the paths and at the bottom of a stalk, I saw an orange string, and I scurried in that direction.

  As I speed-walked along, I realized I wished I’d asked Scott more questions, but I doubted he’d have answered them.

  And then I stopped altogether.

  What if I’d just been duped? Big-time duped?

  I was in the middle of an aisle as these thoughts came to me. Kids, grown-ups, dressed in all kinds of costumes, ran past me in both directions, bumping into me without apology. A couple people probably told me to get out of the way, but I wasn’t listening to anything except the reasoning tumbling around in my head.

  Scott was the one hiding in the stalks. Wouldn’t the guiltiest person be the one hiding? Scott was married to a Bellings, the Bellingses went ahead with the fair no matter the shape of the rides, and though he was gorgeous, Renard was weird.

  I began to think that (1) I’d just had an encounter with the bad guy, (2) the fact that we’d once been married had blinded me to who he really was, and (3) his sentimental attitude about our past was the only reason he’d just spared my life. Despite the grave seriousness of these revelations, I couldn’t help but be somewhat happy that our marriage hadn’t been bad enough for Scott to want to kill me and leave my lifeless body in a cornfield.

  But Sam hadn’t been married to Scott.

  I turned around and glanced in the direction from which
I’d just come. Had I seen Sam enter the maze, really? I was pretty sure I had.

  “Is he here to help Scott, or did Scott lure him here?” I asked myself quietly.

  The two of them seemed to have hit it off. They’d been in cahoots when they were teasing me as they took care of my chin, and I’d watched them conferring outside the service station. I’d thought they were just being friendly, but had Scott been manipulating him? For what reason?

  The only thing that came to my confused and scared mind was that Scott wanted to get someone in law enforcement on his side. Maybe then, he could commit whatever crimes he’d decided to commit more easily. Wait—that must have been it! Scott didn’t need to worry about the Orderville police. Shoot, the rides hadn’t even been inspected. The Bellingses had the police on their side. Sam, though not a local officer, had started snooping around, asking about fair-ride regulations and such. Oh no! Scott might want to get Sam out of the way, too.

  Scott was the one hiding. He wasn’t looking for the killer, he was looking to harm Sam. Lucy was in on it, too—oh, she’d lied so smoothly if that was the case.

  Somehow, even though I was terrified by this point, in the very back of my mind my conviction that Scott didn’t kill anyone truly wasn’t weakening. That wasn’t it at all, in fact. I was looking for an excuse, a reason to be worried about Sam, a reason beyond the real reason. If I’d taken just one more moment of thought I would have realized that it was okay to be worried about someone I cared for so much, maybe even as more than just a friend. I didn’t need to lose faith in Scott just to care about Sam. But none of that rational thinking made it to the surface.

  “Sam,” I said as I turned down an aisle that didn’t have an orange string marker.

  I had to find him.

  I hoped I wasn’t heading back toward Scott, but there wasn’t much I could do about it. I just started walking down random aisles, searching for Sam. It occurred to me then that the corn maze was a perfect location for committing a crime. If you could pull someone into the stalks, you could harm them in any way you chose without being seen. And any cries for help would likely be drowned out by others. As I trudged onward, I could hear the other maze visitors, but I couldn’t tell where their shrieks of glee were coming from or if they were meant to be gleeful at all.