Trick or Treat and Murder

by Kate Bell

  --13--

  “What we need to do is figure out who brought what to the bazaar. Why would Diana eat that nasty store-bought candy apple when there were so many other great treats that would be brought a little bit later?” I asked Lucy. We were sitting at the Cup and Bean coffee shop, trying to sort things out.

  “Maybe she was starving. She was a diabetic, maybe she had low blood sugar and needed something sweet, really fast?” Lucy said, taking a swig of her coffee.

  I could tell it had been a late night for Lucy. Her blond curly hair was just clipped up on top of her head and she had the remnants of yesterday’s mascara shadowing under her eyes. Sometimes Lucy and her husband liked to drink a little.

  “Yeah, but it still doesn’t explain where she got it. I mean, I would only eat one of those things if it was the only food for miles and I was getting ready to go into a diabetic coma,” I said, giving my coffee a stir. Something didn’t add up.

  “Did Alec say for sure the poison was in the apple? Could it have been in the candy corn?” she asked.

  “He said it could have come from either. Everything was a gooshy mess in there and there was no telling where the poison came from,” I said, glancing around to make sure no one was listening in.

  “Gee, thanks for the image that’s now floating in my head,” she said, looking down at her coffee.

  “Sorry,” I said and shrugged my shoulders. “Oh, wait a minute! No, it had to be the apple because the EMTs, Mel Toomey and Jack Staynor each snacked on candy corn while they waited on the coroner.”

  “Okay, so we had a poison apple. There were a number of people dressed as bad witches at the bazaar. Do you think the killer came back in costume afterwards, as a bad joke or something?” Lucy asked, eyes wide.

  “That would be twisted,” I said. “But then, killing someone is pretty twisted, too. There are a lot of crazy people in the world.

  My phone buzzed then, and I picked it up to see who had texted me.

  “It’s Thad,” I told Lucy. Thad was my son who was away at college in Wisconsin.

  Mom, I heard you murdered someone again. You need to stop that.

  Haha, funny.

  Try to stay out of trouble. Love you.

  Love you, too.

  Like his father, he was a man of few words.

  “Is he coming home for Thanksgiving?” Lucy asked.

  “He better be,” I said. It seemed like forever since I had seen my son. I hated that he was so far away. Sometimes late at night, fear would clutch at my heart, telling me he was grown now, and didn’t need me anymore and I would see him less and less as each year passed.

  She nodded her agreement. “Okay, so either the killer was there before you and brought it to her, or Diana brought the apple with her. Somewhere, the killer had to meet up with her.”

  “If she brought it with her, then someone was depending on her to eat that apple and not toss it or give it away. If someone brought it to her, how would they know she was going to have low blood sugar? Or did she eat it to be kind and then tossed it when they left?” I said, thinking out loud. “Maybe that was why it was on the ground. It was disgusting, so she dropped it.”

  “She wasn’t a literer,” Lucy said sharply. “She organized the yearly ‘clean up Sandy Harbor’ day.”

  “Okay, maybe she got sick and dropped it. But Alec said that most likely she had been poisoned over several days. That tells me it was someone she knew. Someone that had access to her regularly,” I said, thinking it over.

  “And why was she in your booth?” Lucy asked.

  “Right, and the apple was still in hers.” There could have been innocent reasons for all of these questions. “I wonder if the church had security cameras?”

  “That’s it! Everyone has security cameras these days,” Lucy said. “I bet the murderer is on that camera.”

  I texted Alec and suggested he check for security cameras.

  Are you investigating this case after I told you not to?

  No. Just discussing possibilities with Lucy.

  Don’t get into trouble. I’ve already put in a request regarding security cameras.

  I don’t have plans to get into trouble.

  I shut off my phone. He was just going to nag, and I already knew what he would say. “Now then, where were we?”

  “Security camera. And why was Diana in your booth and the apple in hers?” Lucy supplied.

  “Could be she started to get sick and dropped the apple and headed toward the door, but only made it as far as my booth, where she dropped to the floor.” It sounded plausible. Not particularly exciting, but plausible.

  We both looked up at the same time and saw old Mr. Winters shuffling toward us. He still wore his fuzzy earmuffs even though the coffee shop was warm and cozy. His feet were clad in rubber galoshes without there being even a hint of moisture in the air.

  He stopped at our table, set his cup of black coffee down and pulled out a chair and made himself comfortable. He had Coke bottle glasses with trifocals in them and he smiled, showing a partial gold canine tooth.

  “Good morning Mr. Winters,” I said, and gave Lucy a look.

  He pointed to his ears. “Sound Tone 500 hearing aids. The best hearing aids on the market. I can even hear through my earmuffs so I don’t need to have cold ears.”

  “That’s great,” I said, giving him an animated smile. I glanced at Lucy again, who lifted an eyebrow in silent reply.

  “Here’s what I know about the situation,” he said, lifting his cup with a slightly trembling hand. “Diana Bowen and our illustrious mayor, Mr. Bob Payne, dated in high school in the tenth grade.”

  Lucy and I looked at each other, then back at Mr. Winters. “How do you know this and why should it matter?” Lucy asked.

  “I taught English at the High School in the eighties for two years,” he said as if that said it all.

  “I thought you worked at the grocery store?” I said. “I definitely remember you working as a clerk there.” Mr. Winters had made an impression on me because he would juggle canned goods for the customers. Sort of dinner and a show, except that you had to go home to make dinner afterwards. If I remembered correctly, he had retired in the mid-nineties.

  “Yes, that was my third career. I started out as a circus clown, then I moved on to teaching high school English, which was really the same as the first career, and then on to the old Martin’s Grocers, which we all know, is now defunct. I’ve had a very good life,” he said, smiling and showing his partial gold tooth again.

  I realized my mouth was hanging open, and I snapped it shut. “Really? You were a circus clown?”

  “Yes. It was a boyhood dream of mine. My grandmother told me I could be anything I wanted, and I wanted to be a clown,” he said and took a sip of his coffee. “I had an act where I juggle knives. You have to be on your toes with that kind of act, or you’ll end up losing your toes. And maybe a few fingers,” he said and chuckled loudly.

  I looked over at Lucy, who was sitting with her mouth open.

  “How come I don’t remember you teaching at the high school? And again, what does it matter if Diana and Bob dated all those years ago?” she asked.

  He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t want to be the barer of bad news, but you’re getting up there in years, Lucy and memories aren’t what they use to be. I was just offering that little tidbit of information, just in case. You never know when it might come in handy.”

  Lucy gasped.

  “I think it just did,” I said. I looked at Lucy. “When Alec went to question Bob, he said he only knew Diana from business functions. To hear him tell it, you would think they were barely even acquaintances.”

  “Ah ha,” Lucy said. “So, Bob the mayor has a secret.”

  I nodded. “Yes he does. But why would he keep it a secret? I’ll have to say something about it to Alec.”

  “Another thing, a little bird told me that the mayor and the dearly departed were seen together at a certain corner re
staurant. Huddled together.” Mr. Winters added.

  It was my turn to gasp. Henry Hoffer’s Home Cooking Restaurant sat on a corner. That same restaurant was the scene of its owner’s demise. I was beginning to think that place was bad news. Maybe it was cursed? My mind was beginning to run away with me, but I made a mental note to not eat there anymore.

  I leaned toward Mr. Winters. “Henry’s Home Cooking Restaurant?” I whispered for confirmation.

  He grinned and nodded.

  “I think a coffee is in order for this information, don’t you?” Mr. Winters asked.

  “Oh, no thanks, I’m fine,” I said and Lucy and I stood up.

  We left Mr. Winters muttering to himself.

  --14--

  I had had a brilliant thought in the middle of the night. When morning came, I discovered I had forgotten it, but a short run brought it back to me. I wanted to see if there were any clues to Diana’s death at the flower shop that she owned. She had spent so much time there that it seemed like there had to be something.

  “Hey Lucy,” I said as I came through the door at Country Floral. Lucy was putting fresh flower arrangements into the big glass refrigerated display case.

  “Hi Allie,” she said, turning toward me. “What are you up to?”

  “I thought I’d come down here and see how you are,” I said, and leaned up against the front counter. Diana had always outdone herself with the shop. Every square inch was filled with trinkets and gifts. The big candle display in the corner had the store smelling of pumpkins, cinnamon and cloves. The place always made me smile when I visited.

  Lucy shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. It’s hard being here. I keep expecting her to poke her head around the corner from the back or call me and tell me about a shipment she’s expecting.”

  “I’m sorry, I know it has to be hard,” I said.

  “This place was a little home away from home for her. She spent more time here than she did at home,” she said, closing the display case door and coming over to lean on the front counter beside me.

  “You know, that’s what I was thinking,” I said. “She spent so much time here, maybe there’s some clue to her murder here?”

  Lucy looked at me, wide-eyed. “Now why didn’t I think of that? I bet you’re right. I’m the only one working right now. Come on.”

  She led me to the back room and then to the office. Diana had decorated it as prettily as if it was part of her home. There were cinnamon scented pinecones heaped in a basket next to her desk and curlicue frames with pictures of her kids hung on the walls. An overstuffed pink floral armchair sat in the corner, with a matching ottoman.

  “Wow, I bet she did spend more time here than at home. I wouldn’t mind curling up with a good book back here,” I said. I had never been back in her office before. “Is it okay if I go through the desk?”

  “Sure, you start there, and I’ll look over here on the bookshelf.”

  Diana had put up a small bookshelf made of what looked like hand carved wood. It had books as well as cute decorated baskets on it. Anything could be hiding in those baskets.

  I sat down at the desk and pulled open a drawer. “What if you get a customer?” I asked as she looked through a basket.

  “There’s a bell on the door. I’ll hear it,” she said.

  There was an assortment of paper clips, staples, tape and other office supplies as well as loose papers in the drawer. I picked some of them up and shuffled through them. Receipts, business cards and order forms.

  “What do you think we’re actually looking for?” Lucy asked, moving on to another basket.

  “I don’t know, but hopefully we’ll know it when we see it. Her cell phone for starters. I would have thought it would have been in her purse or in her pocket and it should have been picked up by the police at the church recreation hall,” I said, neatly stacking the papers. The shop and the office were neat as could be, but Diana kept her desk in a mess.

  “Don’t you think her personal property would have been turned over to her husband?” Lucy said. “But to be honest, Diana was always losing her phone. Usually leaving it behind at home or if she was going home, she left it here.”

  “Good, maybe she left it here then,” I said. The top drawer hadn’t yielded anything useful, so I moved on to a side drawer.

  “I found some old lipstick and a mostly empty bottle of perfume,” Lucy announced as the bell on the front door sounded. “I’ll be right back,” she said, heading out the door.

  “A credit card bill,” I mumbled to myself as I found an envelope beneath an organizer in the side drawer. I pulled out the bill and unfolded it. Diana had a healthy spending limit. “Interesting,” I said to no one. She had used her credit card at a hotel in Bangor on September 30th. I wondered if it was a business trip or a getaway with her husband. Or neither.

  She also used it at a bar in Bangor and at Target in Bangor. So she went on a trip, stayed the night and saw the sights and shopped a little. I set it aside and kept searching the rest of the drawers.

  Ten minutes later Lucy returned. “Just Mrs. Wilson come to pay her respects,” she said. “Sweet lady. Did you find the phone?”

  “Unfortunately, no. But I did find a credit card bill that looked like it was hidden,” I said handing it to her. “It was underneath the organizer in the drawer.”

  Lucy looked it over, frowning. “The thirtieth? She was supposed to be visiting her mother in Ball Harbor. That’s the opposite direction from Bangor. I wonder why she would lie?”

  “Seriously? Maybe she had something to hide,” I said. “Do you know anyone in Bangor? Or do you know if she knew anyone in Bangor?”

  “No. Not that I can think of. I really don’t think she would be doing anything clandestine,” Lucy said. I could hear emotion creeping into her voice and I felt bad all over again.

  “It’s okay if she had a private life, Lucy. It doesn’t mean she’s a bad person.”

  “Oh, I know,” she said, going back to the bookcase. “I just can’t imagine her having an affair.”

  I didn’t want to burst her bubble where Diana was concerned, but it looked more and more like Diana was leading a secret life.

  We searched every inch of the room and only came up with the credit card statement. I sank into the over-stuffed chair and sighed. “Well, I was sure hoping for more.”

  “Yeah, me too,” she said. “I really don’t believe she could blackmail anyone.”

  “Maybe not. Maybe it’s a figment of Bob Payne’s imagination. You know the classic, can’t get over a past love, so you have to invent a scenario that says it’s the old love that can’t get over you,” I said.

  “I think that’s exactly what it is,” Lucy said, nodding her head.

  I leaned my head back in the chair and closed my eyes. My mind went back to those months after Thaddeus had passed away. There had been so much anger and confusion. How could something that horrible have happened? I swore I would not live through it. Could not live through it. The pain was unimaginable. If I hadn’t had two kids that I needed to help get through the same thing I was trying to get through, I doubt I would have made it.

  It was hard for me to get past Dick Bowen’s behavior. Even if they were getting a divorce, he had all that history with her as well as two children. How was it possible for him not to feel something? Other than relief, I meant. He was a peculiar person and a suspicious one in my mind. I wanted to shake him and make him act decently for his sons’ sake. Just help the kids get through it.

  I got up and wandered into the backroom of the florist shop. There was a table with a sink in it that the employees worked on when they made up arrangements and more large refrigerators with glass doors. I went to a shelf area that had supplies. Tapes, tissue paper, ribbons and vases. I began searching through everything, hoping to find something. Anything.

  “I don’t think anything will be in here,” Lucy said, following me.

  I pulled out a bin with assorted wired ribbons and be
gan searching. My hand hit on something solid and I pulled it out. A rhinestone phone appeared. I turned and held it up to Lucy. “Is this her phone?”

  She nodded, a perplexed look on her face. “Yes,” she said. Then she said, “oh, you know what? Diana was putting some arrangements together for the bazaar on the day she died. She was using some of those ribbons. I bet she got a call, and then just laid the phone down without thinking and forgot about it. She was always doing things like that.”

  “Do you have a charger? It’s dead,” I said.

  “I think there’s one in her office,” she said and we headed back.

  I plugged the phone in and we waited until it had enough juice to be able to turn it on.

  Lucy looked at me wide-eyed. “Do you think it has something on there that will tell us who the murderer is?”

  “I certainly hope so,” I said and pushed the power button. The phone sprang to life and I was thankful that Diana hadn’t used a password to protect it. I searched through her texts, but they were mostly from her family, with a few from what appeared to be business contacts.

  “Nothing unusual about the texts,” Lucy announced with a hint of relief in her voice.

  “Nope, nothing there,” I confirmed. I searched through phone calls and there were several missed calls from the same number. Then I saw an outbound call to my number, and I flipped through the list faster.

  “Hey, go back. That’s your house phone number, isn’t it?” she said, trying to take the phone from me.

  “Oh, it is, isn’t it?” I said, trying to sound surprised.

  “Why did she call you? It’s the day she died,” she asked, looking at me.

  “She wanted to check on when I was going to get to the bazaar,” I said. Yes, I lied. And I wasn’t sure why. What did it matter if Diana had called me? I had been over and over the call and I still had no idea why she did it.

  I scrolled through the list and there were the usual calls made and received. Most to family, some to Lucy and others to business contacts. But there was the one that kept appearing and I wondered about what Mr. Winters had said. Had Bob Payne and Diana been having a fling? I didn’t know, but maybe Alec could find the phone useful.