by Kate Bell
“I just came in this morning to take my place here at my station, and this is what I found,” he said, motioning to the person laying on the floor.
From where I stood I could see a spear sticking out of the man and the plastic prop caveman lay across his legs. It was an odd sight and made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I wasn’t close enough to see who it was laying there. Ethan walked over to the body, crouched down near his head, and the other two police officers followed him, standing over the body.
I wasn’t sure if I should follow Ethan or not, but I moved closer. I didn’t know how much I wanted to see, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw a spear sticking in the man’s chest and that the man wasn’t moving.
“It’s Greg Richardson,” Ethan said to the other officers, looking up from the body in the dim lighting.
“Yup, sure looks like him,” Officer Sam Chou said.
Officer Chris Denny knelt down beside Greg and placed a hand on his neck. “He’s long gone.”
I took a few steps closer and leaned over just a bit so I could get a look at his face. He was turned toward me, and his eyes were open. He looked stunned. Whoever had done this had taken him by surprise. I suddenly felt nauseous, and I took several steps back, turning away.
I didn’t know Greg Richardson well, only that he owned a lot of rental houses in Pumpkin Hollow. His wife Veronica stopped in the candy shop regularly. She was addicted to my mother’s fudge.
Ethan looked over at Gary. “Something has to be done about the crowd outside. He’s dead, and we can’t let anybody in here until we take a look around.”
Gary shook his head. “I don’t know what we’re going to do,” he said. “People come from all over to see the haunted house. What am I going to tell them?”
“Tell them the attraction isn’t functioning properly,” Sam said. “They don’t need to know any details and we aren’t going to give them any. Tell them it will open back up as soon as possible.”
“I seriously doubt this place is going to be open today, or even this weekend,” Chris said.
“I know,” Sam said. “But if people know there’s been a murder, they’ll hang around asking questions.”
Gary took a couple of steps closer to the body and peered over at him. “Is there a possibility he just fell on the spear? Maybe it was an accident?”
“I really don’t think that’s what happened,” Ethan said evenly. “As you can see, he has a spear in his chest and that would be one heck of an accident. We’ll need to investigate and the medical examiner will make the determination, but this is a murder.”
Gary sighed and nodded his head. “I know you’re right. I’ll go talk to the folks outside.”
“Gary, is Charlie McGrath here this morning?” Ethan asked before Gary left.
He turned back to Ethan. “No, he usually comes in later.”
“Give him a call and ask him to come in right away, will you?”
He nodded and left without another word.
When I looked up, Ethan was looking at me. Once again I wondered what this town was coming to. Last month, the city council had proposed an initiative to end the Halloween season. The mayor had been murdered, and the town was struggling financially. Some of the town’s citizens were behind the initiative to end the season, but it was a tradition going back to the 1940s and it was what made this town special. We couldn’t lose the Halloween season.
Halloween themed businesses occupied two streets in town, with some attractions being here near the haunted house, as well as the haunted farmhouse on the edge of town. We once had a corn maze and a straw maze, but they had burned down recently. Most of the Halloween themed business owners and I were determined to fight to keep the season going, but a third murder wasn’t going to help sway the vote to keep the season alive. And now one of our best and most popular attractions was going to be closed for who knew how long. I took a deep breath. This was going to be a long Halloween season.
Chapter Three
Joe was still standing off to the side, looking woozy. His arms were folded across his chest in a casual stance, but his pasty skin tone gave him away. “I don’t know how something like this could happen. How did he even get in here?” he said to no one in particular.
“That’s something we’ll have to find out,” Ethan said mildly. “What time did all the actors come in today?”
“Everyone is supposed to be here no later than 9:30,” Joe said, glancing at his wristwatch. “But some people seem to think they have their very own schedule. An awful lot of them just wander in at the very last minute.”
“Did Greg Richardson work here on the weekends?” Ethan asked him.
Working at the haunted house was a part-time gig and most of the actors had full-time jobs that supported them in addition to the job here at the haunted house.
Joe shook his head. “No. He didn’t work here.”
“Who was the first person here today?” Ethan asked.
“Gary. He and Charlie are the only people with keys.”
“Did Gary find him?” Ethan asked.
He shook his head. “No, I did when I came over here to take my place.” He looked at Ethan. “This is the last thing I expected to see.”
“Did you take his pulse?” he asked.
Joe’s eyes got big. “No. He wasn’t moving, so I figured he was dead. I just called Gary over and he called 911.”
I thought it was odd that he didn’t check for a pulse. Even with a spear sticking out of his chest, Greg still might have been alive.
“And I guess he didn’t check for a pulse, either?” Officer Chou asked.
“Gary did, but he didn’t have one. What does it matter, I thought you said he was long gone?”
“He was. We just need a timeline of what happened,” Ethan assured him.
“Joe, how many people have keys to this place?” I asked. One of the other officers looked at me kind of funny. Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut, but I couldn’t help myself. I had been working so hard to save the Halloween season and I felt like all my hard work was going up in smoke.
Joe shrugged. “Only Charlie and Gary. A couple of weeks ago, Charlie collected the keys from everyone but Gary.”
“Why did he collect all the keys?” Ethan asked him.
“Because we were having all kinds of trouble with people being in here when they weren’t supposed to be. Jake Armand is in high school and he and his buddies would have make-out sessions here after closing. Kind of as a dare, I guess. They think this place is really haunted,” he said with a snort and a shake of his head. “Some kids aren’t real bright.”
“How long have you worked here, Joe?” Ethan asked.
“I’ve been working this gig since I graduated high school twenty years ago. A lot of people have come and gone in that time. No telling if they all turned their keys in. It wouldn’t surprise me if half the town had keys.”
“That isn’t going to be helpful,” Ethan said with a sigh. He looked over at me. “Maybe I should call your mom and ask her to come get you? This really isn’t a good place for you.”
I wrapped my arms around myself and looked at Ethan. “I’ll be okay,” I said. I tried not to look over at the dead body. “I hope this doesn’t hurt the Halloween season.” I shouldn’t have been thinking about that at a time like this, but I couldn’t help it.
“Let’s hope not.” He turned back to one of the other officers, his face grim, and whispered something.
To keep from being noticed, I wandered off and had a look at the other props in the haunted house. I had been in the haunted house several times after hours over the years and I knew where almost everything was. There were basement stairs in the corner at the back of the main room and I headed there. I looked over my shoulder. Ethan was busy with the other officers and the other actors were gathered around the entrance, trying to keep out of trouble and most likely gossiping about possible scenarios for why Greg had been killed.
The basement
door was closed, so I picked up the edge of my red cape and used it to take hold of the doorknob and turn it without leaving fingerprints. I did it as lightly as I could so I wouldn’t wipe away any fingerprints that might be on it.
The basement was dark, so I flipped the switch at the top of the stairs, using the back of my hand. The basement flooded with light and I shielded my eyes for a few moments until they adjusted. When they had, and I removed my hand, my eyes were drawn to a broken window across the room just above ground level. I glanced around the room in case anyone was in there, but the room was empty except for storage boxes and dusty props. I walked slowly down the steps, not using the handrail, until I stood in front of the broken window. My eyes went to the floor in front of it. There was very little broken glass. I squatted down to take a closer look at the floor for a moment, and then I stood again and looked at the window. If someone had broken into the haunted house from the outside, most of the glass should have been on the basement floor.
I did a cursory check of the rest of the room, but didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. Heading back up the stairs, I heard voices coming toward the basement door. I walked faster, hoping no one minded I was down here.
Ethan was at the door when I got to the top of the stairs.
“What’s going on, Mia?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowed.
“There’s a broken window down here. But, there’s almost no glass on the inside. If they broke it from the outside, wouldn’t the glass be on the inside of the basement?”
“It should be,” he said, and looked past me. “You didn’t touch anything, did you?”
“No, I used my cape and the back of my hand to touch things,” I explained.
He nodded and held up a clear plastic bag that held a coffee cup from the Little Coffee Shop of Horrors. The edge of the lid had bright pink lipstick on it.
“You think it’s from the killer?”
He shrugged. “Could be. Or it could have been left behind by a visitor yesterday. We’ll hang onto it, just in case. Let’s go back and see if Charlie’s here yet. We’ll need to dust this room for prints.”
“What about that graffiti out there? It’s weird, isn’t it?”
“It is weird. We’ll have to figure out how that fits in with the murder,” he said, and we headed back to where the body lay.
Joe was now pacing back and forth near the cave. The worry lines formed indentations across his forehead and he muttered to himself. He saw me and walked over to where I was. “I just don’t how this could have happened,” he said looking at me.
Ethan went over to where the other officers were looking at the body and knelt down next to it, looking closely at the spear in Greg’s chest.
“Hey Joe, want to come over here for a minute please?” Ethan asked.
Joe sighed and moved closer to where Ethan was examining the body, but didn’t get too close. “Yeah?”
“Take a look at this spear, Joe,” Ethan said. “Does it look familiar? You have one lying over there next to where you were standing. How many spears do you have when you’re playing the caveman part?”
“I usually just carry one,” Joe said. “But there are always a few extras lying around just as props. Sometimes I pick this one up or sometimes I pick that one up. It doesn’t really matter which one I use if you want to know the truth.”
Ethan looked up at him from where he was kneeling. “Can I see that spear over there?”
Joe went over and picked up a spear lying on the floor and brought it to Ethan. Ethan examined the spear, turning it over in his hand.
“This one is made of plastic isn’t it?” Ethan asked.
“Yeah, or something similar,” Joe said.
Ethan reached over and ran a finger along the shaft of the spear that was sticking out of Greg’s body. “This one is made of wood. Does this spear look familiar to you? Do you have both wood and plastic spears?” Ethan asked.
Joe grimaced and forced himself to focus on the part of the spear sticking out of Greg’s body. “I’ve never seen that one before. Most of the spears are cheap and lightweight, like this one. They’re just props and aren’t meant to be used.”
Ethan looked at me, his eyebrows furrowed in thought.
I thought it was odd that the spear used as a murder weapon wasn’t one normally lying around the cave. It begged the question—who carried a spear around with them? And had they carried it into the haunted house with the intent to kill someone?
Joe stepped away from the body and came to stand next to me. “I know it was Charlie,” he whispered.
I turned to look at him. “What makes you say that?” I asked.
“He and Gary were the only ones with keys. And I happen to know Charlie didn’t like Greg.”
“Why didn’t he like him?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. A few weeks ago I overheard Charlie say his name and start swearing.”
I considered this. It didn’t sound like much of a motive for murder, but it was something to keep in mind.
Chapter Four
It had been an hour since Charlie McGrath, the owner of the haunted house had been called, but he still hadn’t shown up.
Ethan came and stood beside me. “The coroner just got here. This is probably going to take a while.”
I nodded. “I know I already said this, but this isn’t good for the Halloween season,” I whispered the last part so no one would hear me. I wasn’t proud of myself for being so concerned about business when a man was lying dead not twenty feet away, but there were a lot of jobs at stake. We had had a lot of trouble the previous month when the mayor was murdered and now we had another dead body.
“I understand exactly what you’re saying,” Ethan said. “We’ll get through this. Why don’t you go out front and see how things are going with the crowd?”
“Sure,” I said, trying not to sound worried.
Gary was sitting on the wrought-iron bench out in front of the haunted house. “How are things going out here?” His head was in his hands and he shook it without looking up. “This is really going to hurt business isn’t it?”
I sighed and sat on the bench beside him. The crowd had thinned out and there were only a couple of stragglers still hanging around. “It is, but I’m sure the police will try to get this place opened up as soon as possible. They know how important it is to the town, and I’m sure they’ll figure out what happened in there.” Pumpkin Hollow was a small town and everyone knew everyone else. I even recognized many of the tourists because the Halloween season was a popular event and we got a lot of repeat customers. Who would have had reason to kill Greg Richardson? That was the question of the day.
I looked up as a group of three teenage boys approached the house.
“I’m sorry kids,” Gary said, looking up at them. “The haunted house is closed for now. We’ll open up as soon as we can.”
The kids groaned and muttered their disappointment. “What do you mean it’s closed? First, the corn and straw mazes burn to the ground, and now this. There isn’t anything fun to do in this town anymore.”
That was exactly what I didn’t want to hear. At this rate, if we lost any more attractions, the Halloween season would be a complete bust and we wouldn’t have to worry about the city council canceling the Halloween season. With a lack of attractions, the tourists would cancel it by not coming. Something had to be done.
“This is terrible,” Gary said, staring at his boots. Then he looked at me, worry etched in the lines of his face. “Can I tell you something?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“Promise you won’t tell anyone? Especially not Charlie?”
I bit my lower lip. I hated making a promise I might not be able to keep. “Maybe you better tell me first.”
He sighed, his shoulders lifting and sagging with the effort. “Charlie told me to change all the locks when he collected the keys from the employees a couple of weeks ago. And I didn’t do it.”
“Wouldn’t he
already know that if he had one of the old keys? Seems like he would have expected you to give him a new key when you had the locks changed.”
He shook his head. “Charlie never opens the haunted house himself. He wanders in at some point during the day, but he’s never here early. It’s always me. I know he never even realized I hadn’t given him a new key. Before we caught those kids in the haunted house after hours, he used to give out keys pretty freely to the employees. I bet most of the employees that worked here over the years had a key. Most give them back when they quit or are fired, but I’m very sure not all of them did. Do you think one of them could have come in here and killed Greg?”
The thought sickened me. We could be looking at any number of possible suspects. “I guess it’s possible. But, they would have to have some sort of motive to kill him. I think it’s too early to know anything. We need to wait for the police to investigate,” I said, hoping to assuage at least some of his fears.
He nodded slowly and went back to staring at his boots. “I suppose you’re right. But if I had changed the locks when I was supposed to, there would be a lot fewer suspects.”
He was right. But at this point we didn’t even know if the killer had used a key to get in. “Do you think Charlie might have done it?” I asked. I wondered what his thoughts would be about that.
He looked at me and considered it, then shook his head. “I can’t imagine why he would. Charlie is pretty laid back most of the time. I can’t see him murdering anyone.”
“That’s what I thought. Don’t worry, Gary. It won’t do you any good to let your imagination run away with you. Let the police work on this,” I said, giving his arm a squeeze.
“Yeah, I know you’re right,” he said without looking at me.
I wandered back into the haunted house. Some of the other actors were standing around talking to one another and I walked up to one of the mummies.
“Hi, Steve,” I said. Steve Jones had been in the drama club in high school and since he never made it to Hollywood, it was fitting that he spent his weekends acting in the haunted house. “Do you know anything about what happened?”
