by Mary Angela
“Happy Halloween, Spirit Canyon!” The crowd responded with another round of applause. “It’s been an amazing evening, hasn’t it? What a parade. This is my fourth year as mayor, and it’s still my favorite night of the year. But you don’t want to hear me talk about the last four years, do you? You want the results of the pumpkin-carving contest.”
A cheer went up.
“This is it!” said Harley, grabbing Zo’s hand. Zo gave it a squeeze.
“The pumpkins this year were bigger and better than ever,” said Mayor Murphy. “Thanks to all of the business owners who participated. I don’t know where you get your ideas, but keep them coming. I’m already waiting for next year.” The mayor opened the envelope. “And now for the winning pumpkin.” She paused for dramatic effect. “This year’s winner is…Happy Camper!”
The crowd erupted in cheers, and Zo and Harley hugged. Molly jumped up and down.
“Come up here and receive your prize, five hundred dollars and an ad in Western Traveler.”
Zo pulled Harley’s hand. “You carved the pumpkin. You’re coming with me.”
“Fine,” said Harley, laughing.
When they reached the float and shook hands with the mayor, she asked if Zo would like to say a few words.
Zo took the microphone, overwhelmed with gratitude for her store, small town, and community. “Thank you, Mayor Murphy, and thanks to all of you for voting. What a great night! There were so many terrific pumpkins to choose from, and we’re honored you voted for ours.” Zo glanced at Harley, who was not just an employee, but a friend. “And finally, thanks to Harley for making this night happen. Without her effort and imagination, it wouldn’t have been possible.”
Harley accepted the praise with a shy smile, and the crowd gave them one more round of applause as they descended the float. Justin Castle was waiting for them with his microphone, and Harley’s smile deflated, like a balloon pricked with a pin. Zo understood her reaction, but she was determined not to let Justin spoil their win. She beamed at the camera, holding up her five-hundred-dollar check.
“Congratulations on your win,” said Justin. “What do you plan to do with the money?”
“Thank you.” Zo blinked at the bright camera light. “I haven’t considered it. I’m sure Harley and I will find a good use for it at the store.”
Harley nodded.
“With the recent death of Marianne Morgan, do you think you’ll invest in any more book signings?” asked Justin.
Zo was taken aback by the question. She shouldn’t have been surprised by the unexpected comment. He’d use any weapon in his arsenal catch someone off guard. “Of course we’ll continue to do book signings. Our customers love author talks.”
“But this author is dead,” said Justin. “Do you think there’s any correlation between her talk and unexpected death? They occurred on the same day, at your store.”
Zo couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Justin was leveling an accusation of murder at her or one of her customers, which was just as bad. She did her best to stay calm in front of the camera, but she was pretty sure she was gritting her teeth. “None whatsoever.”
Harley crossed her arms.
With Zo’s brief response, Justin had no choice but to close the interview.
Chapter Thirteen
Zo and Harley walked back to Happy Camper, where they were met by a small crowd of friends. A few parade goers were still packing up chairs and blankets, but the street was clearing, and police were removing the barricades. It was time for Zo’s Halloween party, and they had something to celebrate: their winning pumpkin. Zo bestowed the blue ribbon on their jack-o-lantern with much fanfare from her friends. Molly said it was the “beautifulest” pumpkin she’d ever seen before leaving with her best friend for a sleepover. Cunningham said it was prize worthy. Duncan said Spirits & Spirits’ pumpkin was better.
Jules gave him a jab. “Don’t say that…out loud,” she added in a whisper.
Zo laughed. “Your pumpkin was great. Where’s Max?”
“He’s coming,” explained Duncan. “He’s with the street crew.”
“Should I shut off the lights?” Harley asked.
“Yep, let’s lock up,” said Zo. “I see people outside.” Business owners were congregating by the door. They were ready for the Halloween party to begin.
Zo hurried to finish closing, asking Beth and Jules to go ahead and get the food ready. Duncan toted Jules’s large cooler up the stairs behind them.
Turning the key, Zo heard a noise. She checked over her shoulder and started when she saw a big bear, Smokey the Bear. Max had taken her suggestion.
“Do you like it?” Max pointed to his costume.
“I love it,” said Zo. Max wore Smokey’s signature brown floppy hat and jeans. The new whiskers on his jawline added to the handsome look.
“I wanted to bring Smokey’s shovel, but I figured it might be a hassle to drag it around all night.”
“Good call.” Zo smiled. “It would have gotten in the way.”
They started up the stairs to her deck, aglow with orange lights. Above, the full moon shone against the night sky. With the ponderosa pines in the distance, it was the perfect backdrop for a Halloween party. So was the “Monster Mash” music, playing from the Bluetooth speaker. Zo had synced it from her phone as they ascended the steps.
“Congrats on your win, by the way,” said Max. “I voted for you.” He turned around and murmured, “Just don’t tell Jules or Duncan.”
“Thanks. I won’t tell.” She made her way over to the outdoor fireplace. The night was growing colder, and its heat would warm the entire deck. “Justin did a short interview afterwards. It was dreadful.”
“That bad?”
“He made it sound as if the book signing was connected to Marianne’s death.” Zo switched on the fireplace. “Like it caused it.”
“Forget him,” said Max. “There’s nothing he won’t say for five minutes of fame. I don’t know when he’ll understand Spirit Canyon isn’t the town to make him famous.”
“I know,” Zo agreed. “But it made me think back to the book signing. During her talk, Marianne said her ex-husband was toxic, and when she left, he was there, waiting in the parking lot for Emily, their daughter.”
“You think he did something to her?” asked Max.
She adjusted the flame height. “I don’t know. It can’t be fun, having the whole world know what a jerk you are. She writes about it in the book.”
“And he stands to inherit a lot of money,” Max added.
“Which is why I need to talk to him, to figure out just how big a jerk he is.”
“This isn’t a newspaper article,” cautioned Max. “You can’t investigate on your own. You need to run your theories through the proper channels.”
Max was a good guy. He really was. But he knew one way: the straight and narrow. The problem was the straight and narrow didn’t always produce results. Life had obstacles, and Zo knew how to get around them. “I thought you were the proper channel.”
“You know what I mean,” said Max. “If the guy’s a murderer, it’s dangerous to talk to him alone. Brady would agree.”
“I hardly think my safety is Chief Merrigan’s ultimate concern.”
“Did you just call my brother ‘chief?’” said a voice behind her. “No matter how long I live, I’ll never get used to him being called that.”
Zo spun around. The dark hair, the smiling eyes, the green top hat—it was Patrick Merrigan, dressed as a leprechaun.
“Brady was always the quiet one,” continued Patrick. “Being jilted changes a man, I guess.” He glanced around the deck. “I like what you’ve done with this place. Is that gas? You must have had someone wire it.”
Zo blinked. It wasn’t the night playing tricks on her. The man who’d made her life very difficult last year
was there on her deck. Months ago, the mention of his name inspired nefarious revenge plots. With a flower in his buttonhole and green, pointed shoes, revenge seemed a little rash now.
“He means the fireplace,” Max said out of the corner of his mouth.
“Yes, it’s g-gas,” she stuttered.
“I’ve never seen one like that,” said Patrick. “I’d like one at my ranch.” He crossed his green shoes. “I hope you don’t mind my being here. The invite said all business owners were welcome, and I’d like to make amends.”
Life was handing her a choice. She counted to ten before deciding not to mind. She wasn’t the type of person to hold a grudge. His past actions stung, but now was as good a time as any to give him another chance. He was a business owner and a legitimate guest. The last thing she was going to do was be rude. “Not at all. Thanks for coming. Can I get you something to drink? We’re just setting up.”
“A beer would be nice,” said Patrick.
“I’ll be right back,” Zo said. Max followed her into the kitchen, where Duncan was placing the stainless-steel cooler on a rolling stand. Inside were beer, spritzers, and soda. Jules brought the perfect assortment of drinks.
“What are you doing?” questioned Max.
“Getting him a beer,” answered Zo.
“Getting who a beer?” asked Jules. She and Beth were putting snacks on trays and in dishes.
“Patrick Merrigan,” Max said.
Jules put down the monster munch. “Shut the front door.”
“He’s telling the truth,” said Zo. “Patrick’s on the deck.”
“Your deck?” asked Jules. “The deck right above the store you had to relocate to when he wouldn’t renew the lease on the one downtown?”
Zo grabbed a bottle of Spirit Canyon’s famous pale ale. “That would be the same guy.”
“Why aren’t you fuming?” Beth fisted her hands on her hips.
“Happiness is a choice,” said Zo. The insulted faces surrounding her weren’t convinced. “A really easy choice among friends like you. In the wild, it’s harder.” She popped off the beer top. “It’s okay, really. He said he’s here to make amends.”
“So you’re not mad?” Beth asked.
“Of course it bothers me,” admitted Zo. “But I love my house, the store’s doing well, and I just won the pumpkin contest. When I think about it, what’s to be sore about?”
“Months of lost work, the hassle of relocation, moving expenses…” listed Jules. She picked up the snacks. “It’s Halloween, and there’s a full moon. I say we put a hex on him.”
Zo chuckled. “We have enough spooky happenings without adding a hex to the mix.”
More business owners and their employees had arrived by the time Zo returned to the deck. The crowd trickled into the backyard, where Max hurried to oversee the firepit. Before he made for the steps, she gave him a tray of campfire cones. Wrapped in aluminum foil and filled with marshmallows, M&Ms, peanuts, and chocolate chips, they were a handy snack for bonfires.
She returned to the task at hand: distributing beverages. Patrick was talking to Cunningham, who was dressed like Sherlock Holmes. It was the perfect costume for someone who loved literature. Two white tufts of hair jutted out from a cap, and an ornate pipe dangled from his lips. As she joined them, she noted his trench coat had a herringbone design. Classic.
“Can I get you anything, Cunningham?” she asked, handing Patrick his beverage.
The professor held up a mug. “I brought hot toddies. The slow cooker’s inside.”
“I thought I smelled cloves.” Zo recognized the recipe: apple, cinnamon, orange peel. Mixed with whiskey, the cocktail was a quintessential fall drink. Its only competition was his hot buttered rum. “Excuse me. I need to help Hattie.”
Wearing a blue-and-white dress, Hattie Fines was climbing the stairs with her large pumpkin balanced atop a book. Taking the pumpkin, Zo recognized the costume. She was Belle from Beauty and the Beast, identical in every way except her hair, which was short, and her red glasses. They hung on a jeweled chain around her neck.
“The astronomy book you requested came in,” said Hattie. “I thought I might as well bring it with me.”
“Thank you,” said Zo. “Let’s put it inside with the food.”
Just under five feet tall, Hattie moved fast, like a butterfly weaving through the crowd. Zo followed, which wasn’t as easily done carrying a pumpkin. She deposited it on the kitchen table.
Hattie handed her the book. “Be careful. It’s brand new.”
The pages were stiff and smelled like fresh ink. They were chock-full of colorful images of the planets. “I’ll put it in my office. Come with me. I want to ask you something.” Tucking the book into her desk, Zo told Hattie about the necklace and her name. Had Hattie ever heard of Zoelle before?
“I don’t recognize the name.” Hattie studied the necklace. “But it’s beautiful. When I go back to work Monday, I’ll see what I can find.”
Zo tucked the necklaces under her catsuit, and they returned to the deck.
“How old are you?” asked Hattie.
“Thirty-three,” answered Zo.
Hattie did the quick math in her head. “Did you ask Nikki Ainsworth? She might know why it was in the theater.”
“She’s the one who told me to talk to the renovation crew.”
“It might be worth delving into the theater’s past productions. You might find something in a playbill. Nikki’s over there with Beth. Why don’t you ask her? I’m going to see what that fool Cunningham is up to.”
“Good idea,” agreed Zo. Nikki was dressed in a flapper dress and fishnet tights. With a gold wig, she looked like Roxie Hart from the musical Chicago. She was telling Beth about a theater camp taking place over the holiday break.
“I’m sure your teen would love it,” Nikki said.
“Love is in short order these days.” Beth released a disappointed sigh. “But I’ll ask. I might go crazy with her at the lodge every day over the holidays.”
Zo heard her chance to enter the conversation. “Meg is welcome to work with me at Happy Camper over the break. I’m busiest during the holidays.”
“That’s brave of you to offer.” Beth chuckled.
“It’s good for teens to be around people their own age,” said Nikki. “Plus, I have an actor from Los Angeles flying in for the week. He’s very nice looking, if you catch my drift.”
“With any luck, she’ll go for it,” Beth mused. “She’s obsessed with celebrities—of the male species. I’ll ask her tomorrow.”
They all agreed it was a good idea.
“Hattie and I were talking, and she mentioned going through the old playbills,” explained Zo. “To see if I can find any connection to the necklace. Would you mind, Nikki?”
“Not at all,” said Nikki. “Everything is a bit of a mess from the renovation, but you’re welcome to go through what I have. Most of the records are in the storage room. I’m sorting through them to see what else can be displayed. Drop by next week if you’d like.”
“I’ll do that. Thank you.” Something caught Zo’s eye, a shiny object on her deck railing. It looked like a piece of jewelry, an earring or pendant perhaps. One of her guests might have lost it. “Excuse me a second.”
Duncan stepped in her path. “Jules is looking for you.”
“Tell her I’ll be right there,” Zo muttered, but she was squinting at the item. The moonlight was reflecting off the surface, like the beam of a flashlight.
“It’s about the food,” Duncan expanded.
Zo decided to go with Duncan. It must be important. That’s when she heard the noise and turned around. The metal object sailed off the railing as if it had wings. She and Duncan shared a look. It was the pendant from George’s collar.
“That was weird,” said Duncan.
W
eird didn’t begin to describe the sinking feeling in her stomach.
Chapter Fourteen
George’s collar was on the deck, but where was he? Though he didn’t like wearing it, Zo worried about him getting lost. After many restless summer nights, she bought the collar and engraved the fish pendant with his name and address. He’d tolerated it well—until now.
As if in a trance, she walked over and picked it up. The sight of his nickname, St. George, brought a lump to her throat. Cunningham christened him with it after George chased away a snake in the yard. The clasp was intact but unfastened. What was the collar doing outside? She’d made sure to put him in for the evening. Had someone let him out?
“What is it?” asked Duncan.
“My cat’s collar,” said Zo. “Have you seen him?”
“No, I haven’t.” He shook his head.
They walked back into the house.
“There you are.” Jules was rinsing a Tupperware container at the kitchen sink. “We’re out of pinwheels. Those little suckers are popular—what’s the matter?”
“I found George’s collar outside,” Zo answered. “I need to find him.” Like the deck, her house was decorated for Halloween. Many of the knickknacks she picked up for the store ended up in her house. Witches, ghosts, and jack-o-lanterns gave it a cozy glow, but with George missing, it didn’t feel like home at all. “Have you seen him?”
“No,” said Jules. “But I’m sure he’s here. I’ll help you look.”
Zo checked his favorite places: the chair in her office, the stack of books in her bedroom, the towels on the top of the dryer. But all were empty. Stay calm. George is a big boy. He goes outside all the time. But the thoughts didn’t calm her. It was Halloween, and for this reason alone, he should have been in the office or bedroom—with the door shut. How could she have been so irresponsible? She couldn’t even take care of a cat.