Caramel Killer: A Pumpkin Hollow Mystery, book 12

by Kathleen Suzette

  “No, look at these cute little caramel turkeys Mom made. We have to have Thanksgiving,” I said, pointing to the tray.

  She walked into the kitchen, letting the door close behind her. “Oh. That changes everything. They look tasty.” She picked one up and took a bite. “Wow, this is really good.”

  “Thanks,” Mom said. She turned to me. “I almost forgot. I heard about Fagan Branigan. What a shame.”

  “It’s sad. He’ll be missed,” I agreed.

  “I saw him at the post office on Wednesday afternoon. He had a package he was mailing out. Said business had been especially good and he couldn’t wait for Christmas sales. I wish I would have known that was the last time I was going to see him,” Mom said.

  “That’s sad,” Christy said. “If only you could turn back time.”

  “That’s exactly what I thought when I heard about it.” Mom shook her head. “It’s such a shame.”

  “Did he say anything that stands out to you? Anything that might make you think he knew someone might want to hurt him?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “I can't think of anything. He seemed happy. If he had any hint that someone wanted to kill him, he wasn't worried about it.”

  “Hey lovely ladies,” Ethan said tiredly. “How’s everyone doing?”

  We turned and looked at him leaning against the kitchen doorway.

  “I don’t want to hurt your feelings or anything,” I said, looking him up and down. “But you look terrible.”

  He nodded. “Thanks. I love hearing that my girlfriend things I look terrible.”

  I picked up the tray of chocolate turkeys and offered him one. “Here, have a turkey. It’ll make you feel better. You’ve been working late the past few nights. Not that I’m spying on you or anything, but—well, I might be spying on you.”

  His eyes brightened. “Wow, those are cute little turkeys,” he said and came over and selected one from the tray. “Thank you. This is going to make my day. And yes, I’ve been working late.” He gave me a quick kiss.

  “Have you heard anything new about Fagan’s death?” I asked him.

  “Still investigating,” he said and bit the head off the turkey.

  “Mom saw him a few hours before he went missing,” Christy said.

  He turned and looked at Mom. “Did he say anything that sounded like it might be important?”

  Mom shook her head. “No. We just talked about business and how he was looking forward to Christmas sales. We were at the post office. I wish I had known he was about to be killed. Sounds silly, but it makes me wish I had said something more significant to him or was able to change how things turned out.”

  “I think everyone would feel that way if they were in your shoes,” he said.

  “I just can’t imagine what Fagan would have been doing in the woods,” I said. “His wife said he wasn’t an outdoorsy kind of guy.”

  “His wife? Don’t tell me you’ve already been out asking around about Fagan’s murder?” Ethan asked, eyeing me.

  I shrugged. “I made her a pumpkin spice cake. We went and comforted the widow.”

  “You never made me a pumpkin spice cake,” he said.

  “I will make you a pumpkin spice cake. I promise. Do you have any special requests for Thanksgiving dinner?” I asked him.

  “Green bean casserole,” he said, his eyes lighting up. “Can you make that for me?”

  I groaned. “I hate green beans. But for you, I will make green bean casserole.”

  He chuckled. “That’s what I love about you. You’re always willing to take one for the team.”

  “Of course I am.”

  He turned and looked at Mom. “Thank you for inviting me to Thanksgiving dinner, Mrs. Jordan.”

  She turned and smiled at him. “You’re welcome Ethan. You know you’re welcome any time to stop by for dinner.”

  “Really? I might start coming by for dinner at your house then.”

  She laughed. “I don’t mind. You stop in whenever you want.”

  “What about me?” I asked.

  “Oh Mia, of course you can come along with him. I couldn’t say no to you.” She grinned at me.

  For some reason I wasn’t comforted by that. Why was Ethan the priority for dinner? And then I turned and looked at him and his boy-next-door smile and I knew exactly why.

  Chapter Seven

  I never would have believed that Fagan Branigan would be murdered. Sure, sometimes he could be thickheaded and irritated people, but he was one of those guys that almost everyone seemed to like. He was a good ol’ boy who loved to spend his free time watching sports and hanging out with the guys. What kind of trouble could he have gotten himself into? I guess that was the question of the day.

  “What are we going to do?” Christy asked me as she buckled her seatbelt.

  I had just picked her up from Mom and Dad’s house. We didn’t go to work until later in the morning, so we had a couple of free hours, and I had a plan. The sky was cloudy, and I hoped it wouldn’t rain before we were done.

  “We are going to go check out the crime scene,” I said and turned to look at her. She was wearing a blue and pink striped knit hat and her brown hair poked out beneath it. She was cute in a girl next door kind of way. She resembled me, after all.

  She grinned. “I like how you think.”

  “Thanks,” I said and pulled away from the curb. “I try.”

  What I really wanted to do was get into Fagan’s costume shop, but I didn’t know how I was going to manage that, so for now, we’d check out the crime scene. I was fairly certain his death wasn’t an accident and as such, there had to be a trail somewhere that pointed to the killer. I was betting there would be something in his costume shop and I had been racking my brain trying to come up with a way to get in there so I could really snoop around.

  I pulled off onto the same dirt road Ethan and I had driven down last week when we had our picnic lunch and found Fagan.

  “How on earth did you find him out here?” Christy asked me as I parked my car.

  “Accidentally.”

  She chuckled, and we got out of the car and I headed into the woods with her following behind me. I kicked the leaves as I walked through them in case there was something the killer dropped on the way to the murder scene.

  “How are you going to find the place where he died? Everything looks the same out here,” she asked from behind me.

  “There was a sawed-off tree stump that I sat on, and if I can find that, I’ll find the place where he died. Or where we found his body, anyway.”

  After we had walked further than I thought we should have, I stopped and turned around. The stump had to be here somewhere. Overhead, the skies darkened, and I glanced heavenward, saying a quick prayer in the hopes the sky wouldn’t open up on us.

  “I don’t see a tree stump anywhere,” Christy said.

  “It has to be here somewhere.” And then I spotted it. We were off by about fifty yards. “There it is.” I pointed at the stump and we hurried in that direction.

  “Well thank goodness you found it,” Christy said. “If you hadn’t had that stump to go by, I don’t think we’d ever be able to find the place where he died.”

  She was right. The wind had blown the leaves across the place that Fagan had lain. I knew Ethan and the other officers had searched through the leaves and cleared the area around his body, but now it looked as if they hadn’t even been here.

  I went and stood by the tree stump and turned in the direction I knew Fagan had lain on the ground. Then I walked in that direction until I got to the place near the old oak tree where I found him.

  “It’s right around here,” I told her. I began moving the leaves around with my boot to see if there was anything there.

  “What exactly are we looking for?” she asked as she copied what I was doing.

  “I have no idea,” I said. There was a slight breeze and the air was chilly, making my nose run. I sniffed and pushed my hair out of my face with my gl
oved hand. “I’m hoping something was left behind that will help identify the killer.”

  “What if his body was dumped here, and he was killed someplace else?” she asked.

  I stopped and turned to her. “Well, maybe the killer dropped something that can be used to identify them with.”

  She was quiet a moment. “Don’t you think the police would have found whatever might have been here?”

  “Probably, but if they didn’t, I intend to. With the way the leaves are laying out here, anything could be covered up. I know the police did their due diligence in finding whatever evidence they did find, but what if they just didn’t see it because of all these leaves?”

  She nodded. “These leaves are getting kind of gross you know,” she said as she turned over a clump of leaves that had stuck together from the recent rains we’d had.

  “I know, I wish I’d thought to bring a rake.” Then I looked up at her. “Hold on.” I turned and ran back to my car, trying to keep my eyes on the ground so I didn’t trip over tree roots or fallen branches.

  When I got to my car, I opened the trunk and reached in, pulling out a thin metal rake that I had bought at the pet store to clean Boo’s litter box. It wasn’t very big, but it was better than nothing. I ran back to where Christy stood watching me.

  “See what I have?” I asked holding it up.

  Her brow furrowed as she looked at the rake. “Seriously? What are you going to do with that? If there are any cats out in these woods, they’re free to use the entire woods as a litter box.”

  “That’s not exactly what I had in mind,” I told her. I went back to the area where Fagan died and began raking the leaves aside, exposing the ground.

  Christy went back to kicking leaves out of the way. “I’m not sure this is going to get us anywhere,” she said.

  “Just be patient.”

  “Okay, but we don’t have all day. We’ve got to get to work in just over an hour.”

  I kept raking and pushing leaves aside. “Aha!” I said when I uncovered a small piece of metal. I picked it up and looked at it.

  “What did you find?” she asked, running over to my side.

  “Well,” I said turning the piece of metal over. “It looks like a medallion of some sort.” I brushed away the dirt and read Pumpkin Hollow Days. “It’s one of the Pumpkin Hollow Days souvenirs.” I looked up at her.

  “Great, I wonder how many thousands of those were sold or given away last summer?”

  “It’s one of the medallions that they spelled ‘Hollow’ wrong on.” The manufacturer had sent the first order of medallions with Hollow spelled Hellow. They’d made up a batch to replace them, but no one noticed until some of the medallions had been handed out. “There were fewer of these given out than the correct medallions.”

  She came over and looked at it. “Still, it had to be a lot of them that were distributed. Anyone could have had one and a tourist might have dropped it.”

  I tucked the medallion into my pocket. “I know,” I said. For a minute I thought it would be something important, but she was right. The business community sold or gave away thousands of these during Pumpkin Hollow Days. All the merchants had a supply of them and would hand them out to customers, or they could be bought in the gift shops. It was impossible to know how many of the incorrect ones were given out before the error was noticed.

  “I don’t think that will help in the investigation.”

  I sighed. “You’re probably right. But I just know there’s got to be something here. Maybe the medallion slipped out of Fagan’s pocket when he was killed.”

  “It could have, but it still doesn’t mean anything to the investigation.”

  She had a good point. I knew that, but I was hoping it would be useful somehow.

  “What we need to do is figure out who had a beef with Fagan. Nobody just goes and randomly shoots somebody in the woods unless they have a reason. Or unless they’re a serial killer.”

  I glanced at her. “Let’s just hope we don’t have one of those hanging around Pumpkin Hollow.”

  I stood and looked around the area. All we had managed to do was rake up a couple of small piles of leaves. Christy was right, the police had probably found all there was to find when they had searched the other day. Ethan hadn’t mentioned finding any clues, but he didn’t always tell me everything he knew. I felt awkward asking him when I knew he didn’t want to tell me.

  “Well, this is disappointing,” I finally said.

  “You can say that again,” she agreed and stopped to look at me. “You even went and brought a kitty litter rake. You would have thought for sure we would have found something with that.” She smirked when she said it.

  “You’re so funny,” I said without any humor. “I guess we better get going so we’re not late to work.”

  “Let’s go then.”

  It was disappointing we hadn’t found anything, but I knew something would turn up sooner or later.

  Chapter Eight

  It was two days later when I brought my 1950s costume back to the costume shop. It was the first time I had seen the shop open since Fagan’s body had been discovered in the woods. Even though I could have made the costume work, I decided I would bring it back and look around for something to exchange it for. My real intent was to see if I could find some clues to Fagan’s murder, even though I knew I wouldn’t have free run of the place.

  I pushed the door open and the little bell above it jingled, announcing my arrival. Gina Van, Fagan’s part-time employee, was standing behind the front counter. She smiled at me. “Hi Mia, how are you this morning?”

  I smiled back. “Hi Gina, I have a costume that doesn’t fit me very well, and I was hoping I could either exchange it or get a refund. I walked up to the counter and placed the bag with the costume on it. “I’m so sorry about Fagan. It must be a terrible shock for you.”

  She nodded. “You have no idea. I just don’t know what to do with myself. I worked for him for eleven years. Can you believe it? We got to be really good friends in that time and now he’s gone.” Her eyes teared up, and she shook her head.

  I nodded. Gina was in her late fifties and I knew she had been here for a long time, but I hadn’t realized it had been eleven years. “I’m so sorry. It’s a terrible loss to the community. He was instrumental in helping us keep the Halloween season last year when the City Council wanted to cancel it. I know you’re feeling the loss of him.”

  She nodded slowly. “I’m just in shock.”

  “I can imagine,” I said. “Gina, did you all get some of those Pumpkin Hollow medallions during Pumpkin Hollow Days? The ones that came misspelled from the manufacturer?”

  She shook her head. “No, Fagan was supposed to pick some up from the city, but he never got down there to do it. But then we got a letter saying they had been misspelled and the corrected ones would be available a week or so later. Why?”

  I shrugged. “I just wondered. I ran across one recently and I wondered how many merchants had given them out.”

  She frowned. “I don’t know that very many of them were given out. I know we didn’t get any.”

  “Gina, can I ask you what time Fagan left work Wednesday afternoon?” I asked, changing the subject before she could press me about why I had asked.

  “He left early. I think it was around four o’clock. He said he had some errands to run and asked if I would lock up the store for him, and of course, I said yes. I do it all the time. Sometimes he leaves early when he’s got things to do.”

  “So there was nothing unusual about him leaving early? He didn’t say anything that made you think something might be wrong that day?”

  “Well,” she said slowly. “I really don’t remember anything in particular, but if I tell you something, will you keep it just between us?”

  I nodded. “Of course.”

  She was quiet a moment. “He had a lot of problems with Sonia next door.”

  “Sonia? What kind of problems did he have with her
?”

  “Well, maybe I shouldn’t say anything, and it’s not like it’s a secret, but I just don’t want to be caught saying things that I shouldn’t say.”

  “I understand completely,” I said. “I wouldn’t say anything to anyone except for maybe Ethan, but only as it pertains to the investigation.” I tilted my head, looking at her and hoping she wouldn’t back out of what she was going to say.

  “Well then, maybe it is something that the police need to know, but maybe not. Honestly, probably not. It’s probably absolutely nothing.”

  “But?”

  “But she and Fagan never could get along. They always argued about everything. I don’t know if you knew it or not, but this shop and the shop next door used to be one big store back when it housed a big gift store back in the 80s. You probably don’t remember it, but when it went out of business, the owner of the building subdivided it to make it into two smaller shops. But he didn’t do everything he should have done when he divided the big shop up. Our water bill and her water bill are billed as one address. It comes to us because this is the main address for the shops and Sonia knows that she’s supposed to pay her half the water bill, but she never would. That made Fagan absolutely livid, and they argued about it all the time.”

  “That’s crazy,” I said thinking about this. “How much could the water bill be?”

  “It’s around a hundred dollars a month, so it’s not terribly expensive for her to pay her half, but we never could get her to do it. I’m not sure that she’s paid it even once.”

  “Was this the only irritation he had with her?” I asked. Sonia was older and I couldn’t imagine her killing anyone, but it was worth looking into.

  “Oh no, it was all kinds of things. Instead of parking in front of her shop, she would park in front of the costume shop just to irritate him. He would go out there and yell at her almost every day and she would just laugh at him. There was nothing that he could do, of course, its city parking, but she only did it to get on his nerves. Then when she swept the sidewalk in front of her shop, she would sweep the dirt in front of the costume shop. And she would drop her trash at our back door instead of walking a few more feet and putting it into the dumpster out back.”