All Hallows Evil

by Valerie Wolzien

  Amy physically recoiled at the thought. “Of course not!” she cried. “I would have turned him in immediately if I had had any idea! What sort of person do you think I am?”

  “Why don’t you tell us what happened,” Jed suggested before his wife could answer that question. After all, they did have to live next door to the Ellsworths.

  “I was fooled—completely fooled. I have to admit that.” The Henshaws sat quietly, both hoping she would continue. “You must understand, Charles came to me a few weeks ago. He trus—he told me that he had come to trust me (we worked together on the library board, remember) and that I was the only person in town who could help him. I suppose I should have suspected something,” she added in a rare moment of self-awareness.

  “Anyway, Charles said he suspected that someone on his staff was, as he put it, out to get him.”

  “In what way?”

  “Well, he said that someone was stealing from the library. I didn’t understand, and I asked what he meant. He explained that money was being stolen, money from the funds that were meant to finish the library. He … he led me to believe that Marion Marshall was the thief.”

  “What?”

  “I know, horrible, isn’t it?”

  “It certainly is. He used her feelings for him—she cared about him, and he, in turn, manipulated her. I shouldn’t be surprised by that, though. Not after watching him sit in his office and complain about her while consuming the food that she had spent hours making especially for him.”

  “Well, I don’t know about that. He didn’t exactly say that she had done it. He just said he thought she might be stealing. And, to give credit where credit is due, apparently he thought better of it. He called me about a week later and said that he had made a mistake, that there wasn’t any money missing, and that I should disregard anything he had said about his staff members. So I guess his better self prevailed after all.”

  “Or else he figured out another way to avoid being convicted of embezzlement,” Jed suggested.

  “He probably saw that article about Mitch Waterfield,” Susan agreed.

  “Whatever happened, I …” Amy hesitated, “I didn’t tell anyone about it. You have to understand—he said that talking about it could damage Marion’s reputation, and I certainly didn’t want to do that to an innocent person.”

  “That’s understandable,” Jed insisted.

  “But that’s not all,” Amy continued, not surprising Susan one bit. “You see, when Charles explained about the missing money and his suspicions about Marion, he also said that he was having some other problems with her.”

  “Did this have anything to do with pornography or maybe stolen books?”

  “I suppose so. He just said that there were other problems. He said that it was hurting the library, hurting all the patrons. He made me think that I wasn’t helping him, I was helping the community! And then he asked me to do just one last thing.… You have to understand that I really felt I was doing the town of Hancock a favor, not just Charles Grace!”

  “By doing what?” Jed asked.

  “By keeping track of what I was doing,” Susan explained to her husband. “That’s right, isn’t it?” She turned to Amy. “You’ve been hanging around ever since Mitchell Waterfield was found dead. You’ve stood in my bushes, peeked in my windows, snooped around my family, followed me to the Armstrong home.…”

  “You were suspicious of my reasons for being there, weren’t you? I thought so at the time, but I didn’t understand why. Rebecca had shown me the list of things she wanted—she even explained about where to find the tea—so how did you know that she hadn’t really asked me to get anything for her?”

  “I wouldn’t have thought anything about it if you hadn’t said that Rebecca wanted you to pick up a white negligee. I had gotten her a nightgown the day before, and there were two others listed on the list she gave me. Either Rebecca was planning on spending a long time at my house, or you were lying. And then, there wasn’t really anyone outside, was there?”

  “No …”

  “You knew I was spooked, and you said you had heard something, and my imagination took it from there.”

  “Yes. Charles had asked me to talk to him before the board meeting that afternoon—to tell him what was going on. I was anxious not to be late. And then he called your house and asked to see you, and it didn’t make any difference after all. I guess we had gotten our messages crossed up.” She shrugged.

  “It’s been a long three days,” Susan said.

  “It sure has. I’d better get home. We’re going out to dinner tonight. I never cook for at least a week after giving a party. I’m too exhausted.”

  “A small point,” Jed insisted. “How did you know Rebecca would have a white negligee?”

  “She’s a new bride. All brides have white negligees,” his wife explained.

  “Rebecca’s wardrobe contained a large pile of them,” Amy agreed. “I’d better run now. Don’t bother to see me out.”

  “Were you going to bother to see her out?” Jed asked as he heard their back door slam shut.

  “Not a chance,” Susan informed him.

  “So what does the note say?”

  “Wha—Oh, I’d forgotten!” She unfolded the note that had accompanied the key chains.

  “Are you going to read it out loud or is it a secret?”

  She folded it back up and stuffed it in her pocket. “I never read other people’s mail. It’s not for us—it’s for Brett—thanking him for all his help.” She ran her finger down a large brown splotch on her favorite needlepoint pillow. Then she looked up and smiled at her husband. “So I peeked. Maybe I shouldn’t have bothered investigating those murders.”

  “I think there’s probably one homeless man who wouldn’t agree with you.”

  “I’ll never get any thanks from him either.…”

  Jed sat down and slid his arm around her shoulder. “Then you can get some thanks from me: Thanks for being my perfect wife and the perfect mother of my children.” He kissed the top of her head. “Hey, where are you going?” he cried as she slipped from his grasp.

  “To the kitchen. I’m starving. Want to join me? I’m going to steal a candy bar or two from Chad’s trick-or-treat loot.”

  Jed stood up. “Lead the way. It’s a crime I can ignore.”

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