Town in a Pumpkin Bash (38 page)

Candy thought she heard the skeleton repeat the name in a muffled breath of air. The
pistol faltered for a moment, then steadied. “How did you find that out?”

“Both Sebastian and Sapphire had files on Emma. It wasn’t hard to make the connection.
The two of them—Sapphire and Emma—must have had an instant connection in that institution,”
Candy said, starting to talk faster now, “because Emma also had a child, didn’t she?
I saw a photo of her with an infant in her arms. That was Emma’s child, wasn’t it?
So what happened to it?” Candy paused, letting the question linger briefly before
she continued. “I can guess. She was forced to give up the baby, which made her own
behavior more erratic. I’m not sure exactly what happened back then, or who she contacted,
but it was enough to prompt
someone
to put her away in that place, probably to hide her or maybe just to get rid of her.
And so, when she met Sapphire, the two women had an immediate common bond—they’d both
experienced the trauma of having their children taken away. I imagine they talked
quite a bit about that, perhaps even told each other their life stories. Emma probably
explained how she’d been raised in an orphanage, and later moved to an isolated house
out on Wren Island, where she was made a virtual prisoner. And how, one day when she
was still a teenager, she had a strange little party, and Abigail Pruitt showed up
on a boat and made her sign some sort of legal document. Emma must have wondered what
became of that document, and she might have even searched for it herself, until one
day, either while she was still on the island or perhaps after she left, someone gave
her a clue. Someone told her about a certain key that opened a certain drawer:
To find the key, search that which binds.
”

Candy paused. “But you already knew about that, didn’t you? You didn’t need to read
that note Emma placed in the volume of Pruitt history. You already knew. Sebastian
did too. That’s what you were both searching for. As far as I can figure, Emma must
have mentioned something about it to Sapphire when they were in the institution together.
And Sapphire must have told Sebastian—and he told you, right?”

“Something like that,” the skeleton agreed, its voice so low and rough Candy could
barely hear it.

She pressed on. “Sapphire knew what the key opened, and she also must have known what’s
still locked up inside that drawer—the document Emma signed on the island that day
Abigail Pruitt came out to visit her. Emma probably told Sapphire about that too.
And after Sapphire left the institution and took on her new personality, she figured
that if she could get her hands on that document, she could use it in some way—possibly
to blackmail the Pruitts, or at least that’s my guess. So she stole the diary, recovered
the key, and put it on the key ring with all the other house keys—essentially hiding
it in plain sight. But before she could use it to do any harm, she was murdered. And
after she died, her house—and all the keys that went with it—passed on to her sole
heir, Cameron Zimmerman, and his family.”

“The key ring,” the skeleton said, nodding, as if finally understanding.

“The key ring,” Candy echoed, her gaze narrowing. “That’s what Sebastian was after,
wasn’t it?” Suddenly it dawned on her, and her eyes widened as one of the final pieces
of the puzzle fell into place. “But you didn’t know that until just now, did you?
That’s why you killed him, isn’t it?”

The sudden clarity drove her thoughts now. “Because
he
knew where the key was at—but
you
didn’t. That’s it, isn’t it? He
knew
the key he wanted was on this key ring.” She held it up in front of her, as if it
were an exhibit at a trial. “
That’s
why he told Maggie he wanted to get his hands on the keys to the house as quickly
as possible. And
that’s
why he was holding the keys like that in his fist when we found his dead body buried
under the pumpkins. He was trying to tell us something in the last few seconds of
his life, after you’d shot him, and started piling pumpkins on his body—something
that Sapphire must have told him before she died.
That the key was on the key ring in a drawer at Sapphire’s house. But you didn’t know!
You thought the key was still hidden in the diary’s binding—you showed me that when
you searched for it just now.
You didn’t know.
”

Candy paused again, this most recent revelation almost taking her breath away as her
gaze shifted back and forth before returning to the frightful skeleton mask. “Once
Sebastian rented Sapphire’s old place, you thought you were going to spend several
days with him searching the house. You thought you were going to find the key together,
and Sebastian was going to share whatever was locked inside Abigail’s box with you,
right? You two had an agreement—a scheme. But in the end, he had no intention of sharing
anything with you. He just wanted to get his hands on this key, so he could get that
document, and then he was probably headed straight back out of town, cutting you out
of any deal he was planning. And that’s why you killed him, isn’t it?”

The skeleton seemed to stiffen. It brandished the pistol. “I knew I could never trust
him,” the voice growled in a burst of anger. “He played me from the beginning. He
said it took him a year to find me, and when he finally contacted me, he said he could
make me rich. He told me he knew a secret no one else knew, and that if we worked
together, he’d ask for only a small share of the fortune. So, yes, I helped him put
the whole thing together. We even came up once or twice to check out Sapphire’s old
place, and just for fun, we scared a few of the renters. We were waiting until the
place was empty—and then he had other issues he had to deal with for a while. But
finally we figured out the perfect time to rent the house—and to sneak into Pruitt
Manor once we found the key.” There was a pause, and the skeleton’s voice darkened.
“But he had inside information. Something Sapphire Vine had told him. Something he
didn’t tell me.”

“So you shot him,” Candy pressed.

“Yes, I shot him. He betrayed me.”

“But what’s that document?” Candy asked, her eyes going to the locked drawer. “What
makes it so important? Why kill for it?”

The skeleton laughed. “You still haven’t figured it out, have you?”

“Tell me,” Candy said, “and then turn yourself in. You can’t get away with this.”

“Do you suppose I’m stupid enough to tell you?” the skeleton said coldly. “You’ve
done your job. You found the diary—and the key. That’s part of the reason I shot him
in that pumpkin patch—and buried him there. I
knew
you’d find him, and I knew
you’d
get involved. He told me we had to watch out for you—that you’re too smart for your
own good. He wanted to take you out—do you realize that? Early on, he suggested that
we should just kill you to get you out of the way. But I had a better idea. I knew
you had access to certain information I didn’t have.”

“So you used me?” Candy asked, incredulous.

“Don’t be so stupid,” the skeleton spat out. “Of course I used you. And now I have
one more task for you. I want you to take that key you found, and I want you to walk
over to Abigail’s desk and unlock the drawer. And then I want you to hand me what’s
inside.”

Candy hesitated. “And if I don’t?”

She heard a click, as if someone had flicked off the safety on a pistol.

“Then you’ll die—just like Sebastian did.”

Again, Candy knew, she had no choice—and one way or the other, she decided she had
to see this through to the end.

So cautiously, as if treading on thin ice, she edged forward, a step at a time, around
the end of Abigail’s canopied bed and past the small marble fireplace, then angling
toward the writing desk. As she did so, the skeleton backed deeper into the shadows
in the corner, keeping the pistol trained on her the entire time, ready to fire at
the slightest provocation.

Candy approached the front of the desk, where she hesitated for a few moments, glancing
out of the corners of her eyes at the discreet door to her right, next to the bed,
that led into Cornelius Pruitt’s bedroom.

I can make a quick dash for it,
she thought.
Get away while I still can
.

But if it was locked, she thought, she’d still be stuck here, in this bedroom—with
a gun pointed directly at her.

As if reading her thoughts, the skeleton spoke up. “Go
ahead, open it,” the smug voice chided. “You’re just as curious as I am to see what’s
inside it.”

It’s true,
Candy had to admit. She was indeed curious.

She lifted the key ring, holding it in her open palm as she studied it.

After discovering Abigail’s diary hidden away in a side pocket of the red purse, Candy
and Maggie had searched the diary’s binding—and come up empty, just as the skeleton
had a few minutes earlier. They’d been confused at first, wondering if they’d misread
the clues. But then Candy remembered the keys clutched in Sebastian’s cold fist, and
on in impulse, they’d started checking all the keys and key rings associated with
the house.

The ring of duplicate keys they’d found in the junk drawer had held a number of possibilities,
including a smaller, flat metal key that looked like it might open a small locked
box or drawer. Maggie had known that most of the keys on the ring fit specific locks
and keyholes throughout Sapphire’s house, but this one had remained a mystery.

It was, as Maggie had called it, an orphan—a key without an associated lock.

There had been no way to actually test their theory—that the orphan key on the ring
opened the drawer in Abigail Pruitt’s writing desk—until now.

Candy took the small key between two fingers and lifted the entire key ring off her
palm. As she leaned forward, toward the drawer, she repositioned the key, the flat
end aiming downward, the jagged edge pointed up. She held her hand as steady as possible
as she moved it toward the keyhole, though she noticed she was shaking just a little.
If she’d guessed wrong, she knew she was as good as dead.

She gently slipped the key inside, and turned.

The lock was old and didn’t give way easily. She had to coax the key around, turning
it one way and then the other, loosening the path, until something inside clicked.

She reached out with her other hand and pulled open the drawer.

Inside was a single yellowed letter-sized envelope, with the word
Emma
printed on the front. Candy recognized Abigail’s handwriting from the diaries.

“Take it out,” the skeleton ordered. It had come up a few steps behind her. “Tell
me what’s inside.”

Candy did as she was told. She lifted out the envelope, opened the flap, which had
been neatly tucked inside, and withdrew several sheets of folded documents on thick
paper.

“Read them,” the skeleton ordered.

Candy turned and shot a questioning look at the skull mask, and the eyes behind it.
“Are you sure you want me to do that? You can just…”

“Read them,” the voice said, more emphatic this time.

Candy took several quick breaths and realized her heart was beating faster. She unfolded
the pages and scanned the top sheet.

“The first one’s a birth certificate,” she said, “for Emma Rose Pruitt.”

“I’ll take that.” The skeleton hand darted forward, faster than Candy expected, and
snatched the sheet from her fingers, then backed away again. “Next.”

Surprised, it took Candy a few moments to refocus. But when she did, scanning down
the next sheet in her hands, she knew instantly what it was. “This is it—the document
Emma signed.”

“And what does it say?” the skeleton asked. It sounded as if it was grinning.

Candy took a few moments to scan the text before her and look back through the other
sheets, which were all clipped together. “It’s a legal document, just like I thought,”
Candy replied, and then she looked up at the skeleton. “It says, basically, that Abigail
would continue to provide a home for Emma at the house on Wren Island, as long as
Emma agreed to disavow any legal claim to the Pruitt fortune.”
Candy paused. “It also says that none of her heirs can lay claim to the fortune as
well.”

There was silence in the room for a few moments as those words sunk in. Finally, Candy
said breathlessly, “You’re her, aren’t you? Your Emma’s daughter?”

It took the longest time, as the seconds seemed to stretch to minutes, but finally
the skeleton reached up with one hand and slid up the skull mask.

Underneath was the face of Olivia March.