Town in a Pumpkin Bash (39 page)

“So it was you all along,” Candy said.

“It was me all along.” Olivia’s face looked pale in the dim light, and there were
dark circles under her eyes. She looked on the verge of a breakdown, though she forced
a smile, trying to make a strong appearance. “But you must have suspected at some
point. You had most of this figured out.”

Candy nodded, and there was a sadness to the gesture. “I did—though I was hoping I
was wrong. But I had to make sure. If Olivia—if
you
—really had been kidnapped by someone else, and your life really was in danger, I
knew I was the only one who could help you, because I had the diary and the key. So
I couldn’t take any chances.”

Olivia was silent again, her mouth a tight line. After a few moments, she said in
an almost mocking tone, “Well, I’m genuinely touched you were so concerned about my
well-being. Unfortunately, I can’t say I feel the same way about you.” She reached
out a hand, making a beckoning movement with her fingers. “I’ll take those.”

Candy glanced down in the documents she still held, then looked back up at Olivia.
“What are you going to do with them?”

Olivia’s brow fell and her face hardened. “Destroy them, of course.”

“So that’s it then? That was your scheme? Destroy the documents that would prevent
you from laying claim to the Pruitt fortune? And then what?”

Olivia’s eyes turned suddenly dark. “I am the granddaughter of Cornelius Pruitt and
Daisy Porter-Sykes!” she said, her words coming with some force, though she kept her
voice low. “I have a legal claim to both those fortunes. And I plan to take full advantage
of that claim!” Her face twisted. “There’s a conspiracy here that goes back decades—more
than sixty years. My mother…” Her voice trailed off as she looked down at the folded
birth certificate she held in her hands. “I never even knew the exact day she was
born. Did you know there are no records of her—except for this? Someone had all her
other birth records destroyed. How, I don’t know—but none exist. There’s nothing that
proves my mother was even alive. I know. I looked. That’s why I needed your help.”

“
My
help?” Candy asked.

“You had information I didn’t,” Olivia said, her voice taking on a haunting edge.
“You knew Sapphire Vine. Your friend manages her property. You’re at the center of
everything that’s going on in this town. So I shot Sebastian in the pumpkin patch,
made up a few stories about a pumpkin patch killer to stir things up, and let you
do the rest. And you delivered, like I knew you would. You found Emma’s grave for
me, and the diary, and the key. And you found this.” She waved the birth certificate
in front of her. “This
proves
it, once and for all. Now I can legally show proof of who I am, and I’m going to
get what’s rightfully mine.”

Candy looked back down at the sheets she still held. Slowly she folded them up and
placed them back into the
envelope. “As long as these papers your mother signed don’t stand in your way.” Again,
for a fleeting moment, she thought of making a quick escape, out through the side
door to Cornelius Pruitt’s bedroom.

But Olivia was quicker. She darted forward, grabbing the envelope from Candy’s hands.
She slid it inside her costume as she backed away, around the bed toward the hallway
door.

“You’ve done your job,” she sneered, “and you’ve been very helpful. But you know too
much. I’m sorry it has to end this way.”

She slid the skull mask back down over her face and stepped into the center of the
room, where she’d have a clear shot at Candy, who still stood by Abigail’s writing
desk.

But at that moment, the door behind Candy burst open and Officer Molly Prospect rushed
through, arms stretched out in front of her, holding the butt of a pistol in the palm
of her left hand, her right index finger hovering near the trigger, both hands steadily
aiming the weapon directly at Olivia. “Drop it!” she ordered.

For a moment, no one moved. The air tensed as Candy held her breath, and Olivia and
Officer Prospect stared each other down.

Then the door to the hallway swung open and Tristan poked his head through, his tricorn
hat tilted jauntily to one side. “Candy, are you in here? Everyone downstairs is looking
for you. We have a…”

But he never had a chance to finish, for there was a shout. The next thing he knew,
a skeleton was rushing toward him, seeking freedom through the open door.

“Stop her!” Candy and Officer Prospect yelled almost in unison.

And Tristan did. The skeleton brought up its hands, intending to push him out of the
way—or perhaps just to shoot him—but at the last moment, he stepped elegantly aside,
reaching out to grab the wrist of the hand that held
the weapon. He gave it a jerk and a yank, and the skeleton spun around, growling in
pain as it dropped to one knee. The pistol fell from its grip and clattered away across
the floor.

“Hold her!” Officer Prospect sprang across the room, kicking the gun farther away,
under the bed. After making sure she was all clear, she lowered her weapon as she
reached behind her and pulled out her handcuffs.

It was over in seconds. Olivia March, with the skull mask still over her face, lay
in a crumpled heap on the floor, handcuffed and defeated.

“What the hell’s going on here?” Tristan asked, looking around the room with a shocked
expression on his face. Then he saw Candy, who stood with one hand clutching the edge
of Abigail’s writing desk. She looked unharmed as far as he could tell. He crossed
quickly to her. “Candy, are you all right?”

She felt a wave of relief engulf her as she watched Officer Prospect, who obviously
had control of the situation, radio for backup. She also noticed her whole body was
shaking. She took several deep breaths to calm herself. “Yes, I just…I need a few
moments.”

“Very well,” Tristan said, his own face showing his relief. He stepped closer to her
and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, steadying her. “But don’t be too long.
Otherwise, you’ll be late for your own surprise party.”

She pretended to be surprised—and she did a very good job of it. She even had tears
in her eyes. Real tears.

Maggie gave her a kiss and a hug. “Happy fortieth birthday, honey! And happy Halloween!”
She’d been dressed as a witch. Candy hadn’t recognized her until they’d all removed
their masks and cried out happily, “Surprise!”

Everyone had been there, all in disguise for the masquerade ball—Doc and the boys,
Cameron and Amanda, old Mr. Gumm, Ray Hutchins, Melody Barnes and her husband, Jesse
Kidder and other coworkers from the newspaper, the Reverend James P. Daisy and his
wife, Gabriella, town council chairman Mason Flint, Lyra Graveton and her husband,
Llewellyn, local shop owners Ralph Henry and Malcolm Stevens Randolph, the Daggerstones
and the Coffins and the Chapmans. They all hugged her, shook her hand, clapped her
on the back, kissed her, brought her glasses of champagne, fussed over her costume,
and generally wished her well.

Even Wanda Boyle had showed up, dressed like an Egyptian princess, accompanied by
her husband, Brad, who had chosen the role of a Roman emperor.

She also saw Judicious F. P. Bosworth, who was presently visible, and surprisingly
well engaged with the crowd. She gave him a restrained hug.

“I’m so glad you could make it,” she told him, “though in the past you’ve helped me
solve the murders in town. This time you were noticeably absent.”

He smiled warmly at her. “This time you didn’t need my help,” he said simply, “but
I’ll always be there when you need me.”

Doc and the boys told her the same thing. “We’re always there for you, pumpkin, you
know that,” her father said as they embraced.

“And I’m always there for you, too, Dad,” she told him. She lifted her wrist, showing
off the blueberry bracelet. “And thank you for this.”

“Anytime, pumpkin,” he said with a grin. “Now let’s party! After all, this is your
pumpkin bash!”

Herr Georg Wolfsburger appeared with a flourish from a side room, wheeling a cart
that held a tall birthday cake, which he’d personally made for her.
“Mein leibchen!”
he cried to her happily when he saw her. “You are beautiful! Like a fairy princess!”

She stood with Tristan and Maggie, Cameron and Amanda and Doc as they once again sang
to her, and they clapped and snapped photos as she turned and blew out the candles
on her cake—all forty of them.

A short time earlier, when she’d come down the stairs with Tristan, she’d been surprised
that no one here on the first floor knew what had happened upstairs. “And we’d like
to keep it that way for the moment,” Tristan had told her. Before they’d left Abigail’s
bedroom they’d retrieved the documents from Olivia March, and Tristan had had a quiet
talk with Officer Molly Prospect, who had relayed his
requests to Chief Durr. “The police are going to announce shortly that they’ve made
an arrest in the Sebastian J. Quinn murder case,” he’d told her as they’d come down
the stairs, “but they’re going to keep some of the details under wraps for now, until
we can sort everything out. Anyway, we’d like to keep the family name out of this
as much as possible.”

Candy doubted they’d be able to do that for long, but for the moment, she decided
to let other people handle it. She’d done her part. Now it was time to let the experts
do theirs.

As the evening wore on, and the ten o’clock hour approached, Candy started looking
around the room. Someone was missing. Someone who’d promised he’d be here for her
birthday.

Ben Clayton finally showed up at ten thirty.

She saw him standing under the arch that led out into the first-floor hallway, silhouetted
by a light behind him, searching for her. She’d recognize his profile anywhere. He
looked a little disheveled—he’d just come across the country, after all, flying first
into Boston, then hopping on another plane to Bangor before driving down to Cape Willington.
It was a long trip, and he’d been away for what seemed like forever, though it had
been less than a week.

She crossed the room toward him, and when he saw her, he met her halfway.

He gave her a hug and whispered “happy birthday” in her ear. But there was something
in the tone of his voice that instantly alerted her. When
she looked into his eyes, she knew something was up. “What is it?” she asked, sounding
worried.

“Candy, I have to tell you something. I know this isn’t the best time but…things have
been happening so fast and I…I’ve received an offer.”

Her brows knitted together. “An offer for what?”

“For a job. In San Francisco. As managing editor for the
Chronicle
.”

She looked into his eyes, somewhat confused. “But…that’s wonderful news but…what does
it mean?”

He smiled hopefully. “Candy, I’ve accepted the job. I’m leaving town. I’m headed to
San Francisco. And I want you to go with me.”

The following Wednesday afternoon, she drove out to Pruitt Manor.

A week had passed since her birthday party, the arrest of Olivia March—and the bombshell
dropped by Ben. And today, Candy had a little unfinished business to tend to.

The Pruitts had left town the previous weekend. Mrs. Pruitt had returned to her primary
home on Beacon Hill in Boston, and Tristan had flown off on Sunday to New York, and
eventually to Europe on business.

Ben was gone as well. The previous Friday had been his last day in the office. They’d
thrown a small party for him, but it had been a subdued affair. Other than that, he
left with little fanfare. He’d flown out Saturday to the West Coast. He had plans
to return to Cape Willington at some point to pack up his things, but he didn’t know
exactly when that would be.

He’d obviously been disappointed when Candy had told him, after thinking it over,
that she couldn’t go with him—her home was here in Cape Willington. But they both
knew
it was the right decision. Neither of them had been completely sure about the direction
of their relationship. In the end, it had been an amicable split.