Town in a Pumpkin Bash (15 page)

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Authors: B. B. Haywood

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“Dad!” Candy said the word sharply, in admonishment, surprised at his odd reaction.

Doc crinkled his nose, his good humor fading when he saw her expression. “What?”

Candy looked at her father with a confused shake of her head. “It wasn’t really funny.
We were scared out of our wits.”

“It was a skeleton! In the
window
!” Maggie emphasized, before adding in a less emphatic tone, “Well, at least, that’s
what I think it was. I didn’t actually see it myself. But Candy said she saw it, and
I believe her!” She stamped her foot for emphasis.

“Thanks for the support,” Candy said across the table.

“Anytime.” Maggie crossed her arms and nodded her head.

“It was probably just some neighborhood kid,” Doc said in an attempt to defend himself.

“You’re probably right,” Finn said seriously. “Still, it
appears there’s another murderer around town, so everyone should be keeping an eye
out for anything strange. And the body was found smack dab in the middle of that pumpkin
patch where they’ve been working. How were they supposed to know this skeleton wasn’t
someone with nefarious purposes?”

“Yes…but…but…” Doc sputtered, and tried to put on an accommodating smile. “Look, I
know this is serious business but…it was just an early trick-or-treater. He was just
goofing with you—looking around for a little mischief before the big day.”

“I don’t know, Dad.” Candy was still shaking her head, still surprised by her father’s
odd reaction to the appearance of a skeleton in a window at Sapphire Vine’s place.
“It didn’t really look like a kid to me. I’m sure I would have noticed something like
that. It was…weirder. Like someone was watching us, checking us out, seeing what we
were doing.”

“Spying on us,” Maggie put in helpfully.

Candy wiggled a finger at her. “That’s it exactly! It was like someone was spying
on us.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense,” Doc said. “Why would someone be spying on you?
How would anyone even know you were there, or what you were doing?” He paused, considering
that statement, before he asked, “What
were
you doing there?”

Candy waved a hand. “That’s beside the point.”

“Which is…?”

“Like Maggie said. Someone in a skeleton costume was spying on us!”

“But…”

“Dad,” Candy said, her voice tensing, “I didn’t just dream this up. Whatever it was,
someone—or some
thing
—was staring at us through that window.”

“I know, I know,” Doc said, kowtowing to her from a seated position and motioning
with his hands for all of them to calm down. “Look, I know what you think you saw,
and
I didn’t mean anything by my reaction. I just…well, I just…”

“Who was that on the phone?” asked Artie Groves, breaking into the conversation as
he adjusted his glasses on his thin nose, his gaze focusing with curiosity. He’d combed
his thin, steel gray hair straight back from his high forehead, and had grown out
a thin goatee, which gave him a slightly more distinguished appearance.

Doc cleared his throat. “Oh, it was no one…just an old friend.”

But Artie caught the little white lie in Doc’s statement. A trace of a wicked smile
crossed his face. “You’re hiding something from us, aren’t you?”

“Am not,” Doc replied.

“Maybe it was a call from his girlfriend,” Bumpy said, bemused by the turn of the
conversation.

“He has a girlfriend?” Candy asked, surprised.

“Of course not!” Doc sputtered, his face turning red.

“I agree with Artie,” Finn said firmly. “You’re hiding something, Doc. So spill the
beans. What is it? Is everything going okay?”

Feeling himself boxed into a corner, Doc considered his response carefully. “I’m taking
the fifth,” he replied, his jaw firming up.

But Candy was studying her father. “Dad, are you all right? You seem a little…strange.”

Doc blew out a breath as he settled back in his seat. “No, it’s just…I’m worried about
you, pumpkin, that’s all, with everything that’s happened today. It’s just been one
thing after another, and this most recent news took me by surprise, that’s all. And
I’ve been out in the back field all day and I’m feeling a little…stressed. That’s
all.”

“That’s a lot,” Finn said. “All this murder stuff can cause all sorts of emotional
and physical problems in people—and not just the victims. Stress is bad for the ticker,
too, you know.”

Doc glowered at him. His buddy wasn’t helping matters.

And as he feared, Finn’s comment prompted the wrong reaction.

“Dad, are you sure you’re feeling all right?” Candy asked, genuinely worried, and
she gestured toward her friend. “Maggie, feel his forehead. Tell me if he feels hot
to you.” Candy and Doc were seated at opposite sides of the booth, but Maggie was
wedged in next to Doc.

“Well, okay,” said Maggie, shifting as she raised an eyebrow. “Let me just feel how
hot you are, Doc.”

That set them off.

“Yes, Doc, how hot are you?” Artie asked, suppressing a grin.

Bumpy fueled the flames. “He looks pretty hot to me,” he said, a dribble of salad
dressing gleaming at the corner of his mouth.

“Naw, he needs a shave and a haircut, but he might clean up okay,” Finn put in, and
they all laughed.

Doc flashed a look of mock anger at them and brushed away the palm that was approaching
his forehead. “Now cut that out! I’m feeling just fine, I tell ya. And I don’t need
any babying. Besides, here comes our dinner….”

While they ate, they chatted about the day’s events, chewing over the latest developments
as they dug into an olive- and feta-laden Mediterranean pizza, grilled pita sandwiches,
and a Greek sampler plate, complete with calamari, fried eggplant, and mini-kabobs,
which Artie had ordered but insisted on sharing with everyone.

Finally, after they’d loaded up, Finn settled back and filled them in on what he’d
heard out of the police department. “Word is Sebastian was shot all right, smack dab
in the middle of his chest, at maybe ten to fifteen feet, sometime before midnight
last night. Right now they’re trying to piece together his whereabouts before he died,
and they’re searching his cell phone records, hoping that’ll give them some clue about
the killer….”

Finn continued, but Candy was only half listening. She’d seen the outline of the cell
phone in Sebastian’s pocket and had wondered if it might shed some light on how he’d
wound up buried under that pile on pumpkins in High Field. She also wondered about
the file labeled
Emma
she’d seen on the front seat of his car.

The police had that now, but had they opened it? she wondered. And if so, what had
they found inside?

“Have you heard anything about a file I saw sitting on the front seat of Sebastian’s
car?” she asked Finn straight out of the blue. “I’m sure the police must have found
it.”

But Finn only shook his head. “Haven’t heard anything about that. Don’t even know
if it’s part of the investigation. Why, do you think it’s important?”

She was about to respond when a generous slice of pumpkin pie miraculously showed
up in front of her.

Surprised, Candy turned and looked up.

Juanita Perez, one of the diner’s longtime waitresses, was standing beside the booth,
a broad smile on her oval face and her long, straight black hair pulled back into
a thick braid, which hung down her back almost to her waist. “On the house, Candy.
Enjoy!” Juanita said, patting Candy on the shoulder.

“Juanita, you don’t have to keep giving me free stuff,” Candy told her in an almost
beseeching tone.

But Juanita would have none of it. “It’s a lifetime thing,” the waitress said earnestly.

This had been going on for some time, ever since Candy had been a judge at a lobster
stew contest, which Juanita won. And as a way to show her appreciation, the waitress
had been plying Candy with free coffee and desserts ever since.

“Besides, you gave us the recipe for that lobster stew, which is one of our bestsellers,
especially in the fall and winter,” Juanita added, “so enjoy!”

But Candy continued to protest. “Juanita, I’ve already had a
piece of pumpkin pie today. I can’t eat another. I’ll gain ten pounds.”

“Then I’ll bring you something else,” the waitress said, undaunted.

“No. Juanita…”

Candy knew the waitress meant well, and the last thing she wanted to do was hurt Juanita’s
feelings or, worse, seem like an ingrate.

Looking for a way out, she scanned the faces at the table, then turned to search the
rest of the diner. She quickly spotted a female police officer sitting at the counter,
reading the newspaper and just finishing a burger and fries. Candy remembered the
officer from earlier in the day, and her name—Molly Prospect.

Candy discreetly pointed in her direction. “Do me a favor, Juanita, and give the pie
to the police officer, would you? With my compliments? She’s probably had a rough
day, and deserves a treat.”

The waitress turned, spotted the police officer, and said happily, “Sure thing, Candy!”
before she headed off to deliver the pie to Officer Molly Prospect.

A few moments later, when the pie was placed in front of her, Officer Prospect turned
toward Candy with a questioning look. Candy could see her hesitation to accept the
free offering, but after Juanita explained, Molly shrugged and dug in, after a wave
of thanks to Candy.

Candy waved back.

Doc, who had surreptitiously watched the whole thing, winked at his daughter. “Making
new friends?”

“I’m trying, Dad,” Candy said with a weak smile. “I’m trying.”

EIGHTEEN

Ben called her a few minutes after ten
P.M
.—just like he said he would.

She was upstairs in her bedroom, already in her pajamas—partly because she was tired
and had decided to turn in a little earlier than usual, and partly because she wanted
to review a file out of sight of Doc’s ever-watchful eyes. She’d taken a cup of chamomile
tea with her and had settled on her bed. She’d just opened the file and started scanning
the first few pages when Ben called.

After they’d left the diner, Candy had dropped Maggie off a home and then returned
to her office downtown, intent on pulling another file from the cabinet’s bottom drawer,
the one labeled
SV
.

She’d found what she was looking for after digging deep into the drawer. And again,
she had known it existed, because she’d spotted it at an earlier time, though she’d
never opened it up and looked inside.

It was a fairly thick folder, with a faded green rubber
band wrapped around it to hold all the documents together. On the label, printed in
Sapphire Vine’s hand, was a single word:
PRUITT
.

Maybe, she’d realized at dinner, Sapphire had left behind a few clues about Abigail
Pruitt in the file. And, Candy had realized, maybe she’d even find the diary in there,
wedged in between all the papers, since she and Maggie had seen no sign of it during
their cursory search of Sapphire’s house.

But Ben called before she could look beyond the first few documents.

Still, as he talked, she thumbed through the rest of the papers in the folder.

At first glance, it appeared there was no diary stuck inside.

“I just heard what happened,” Ben was saying from the other end of the line—and the
other side of the continent. He sounded weary. “Hard to believe there’s been another
one in town, isn’t it?”

She agreed that it was.

“Do you think there’s any significance that the body was found in the pumpkin patch?”
he asked.

She said she believed there was, though what the connection might be, she had no idea.

“Well, I have a feeling you’ll figure it out,” Ben said. “Look, I’ve been thinking
of cutting my trip short and heading back to Cape Willington early, with all that’s
happened there today. Maybe I can be of help. Maybe I’m needed there.”

But Candy would have none of it. “What about your panel tomorrow morning? And your
interview? You tried for months to get that guy to sit down with you. You can’t back
out now. If you do, he’ll never talk to you again.”

After trying for months, Ben had managed to land an interview with a reclusive Internet
mogul originally from Down East Maine, who now managed a multibillion-dollar business
in Silicon Valley. Ben was thinking of working it
into a larger piece, perhaps even a book-length project. The time for the interview
had been firmed up. It was scheduled to take place after the weekend conference, on
Tuesday morning.

Ben sighed. “I don’t know. You’re more important right now. I don’t want you facing
all this by yourself.”

“But I’m not by myself,” Candy protested. “I have Maggie and Dad and the boys here
to help me out if I need it. And, of course, the Cape Willington Police Department
is on the case. I even made a new friend in the department—Officer Molly Prospect.
If I get into trouble, I’ll give her a call. She looks like she can handle just about
anything, and I have her card right in my pocket. We’ll be fine, trust me.”

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