Halloween Hayride Murder

by Linnea West

  "Of course I can," I said. "Besides, it is better I learn now instead of during the Hayride."

  "Sure, sure," my dad said. He liked to rib me and I was about the only person he would tolerate to dish it right back to him. But I wasn't going to get into it with him tonight.

  I saw Clark's truck pull up outside. He got out of the truck and headed towards the door. I hurried up and gave my dad a hug, ignoring the scowl on his face. He wasn't a big Clark fan except for his work as a football coach. Dating his daughter was a different story.

  I opened the front door just as Clark lifted his hand to knock. We both did the awkward laugh thing as Clark shuffled his feet a little bit. I grabbed my purse off of the entryway table.

  "Well, let's go," I said, shutting the door behind me before my dad could say anything to him. Clark offered his arm and I put my hand in the crook of his elbow. Together, we walked to the truck where Clark opened the passenger side door for me. His pickup truck sat high up off of the ground and Clark offered me his hand. I gratefully accepted as I climbed up and in.

  Clark took off down the driveway and as we pulled away, I saw my dad still standing in the bay window. I waved my hand and he waved back, which was a good sign that he wasn't actually upset with me.

  The field where the Hayride was held was a good fifteen minutes away, so we had a little time to talk. It was actually so far that instead of making the townspeople drive to the field and back, we set up a bus system from the high school parking lot. It cut down on figuring out where to park everybody and having to worry about people getting lost out in the country looking for the place.

  "So, I have something I've been curious about for a while," Clark said. I froze for a moment, wondering if he was going to ask about Peter. While I enjoyed talking about him to my family and Mandy, I was definitely not ready to talk about my first husband with a man I was out on a date with. I tried to take a few deep breaths as it felt like I'd just drank a large glass of ice water.

  "How come you live in a bed and breakfast?" he asked. "That seems kind of weird and potentially awkward."

  I must have been holding my breath because suddenly I exhaled out a laugh. It was a weird, throaty laugh that was much different from my normal laugh, but Clark didn't seem to notice.

  "It can be kind of weird," I admitted. This was a question I could deal with. "But my parents have owned the Shady Lake Motel for a long time so they are used to the hospitality field. When we were younger, my parents bought a giant house because there are five of us kids. Once we all moved out, they decided they wanted to keep the house but they didn't want it empty. Interestingly enough, in the state of Minnesota, the owners of a bed and breakfast have to live on site."

  "Really?" Clark said. He seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say in a decidedly boring conversation. We turned from a paved city street onto a gravel road that led out of town.

  "Yeah, so they decided that would be the best way to enjoy their house," I said. "They renovated so that we have our own private family space upstairs. Of course, they didn't expect their thirty year old daughter to move in, but it has been nice to be able to help them out."

  "I'm sure they are glad you moved back," Clark said. "I'm sure glad you did otherwise I never would have met you."

  Clark took my hand and gave it a squeeze. I'm not sure if he knows much about why I moved back, but he sure was sweet. I realized I was making goo-goo eyes at him, but I just couldn't help myself.

  "We are almost there, but since we are trapped in this truck a little longer, now I have another question," Clark said. "Don't worry. This one is a bit more exciting. I was kinda wondering if maybe you wanted to coordinate our Halloween costumes? You know, like do a couples costume?"

  "Oh that would be so fun," I blurted out. "Like being ketchup and mustard or something?"

  "I was thinking more like a cowboy and cowgirl or something," Clark laughed. I immediately felt my face get warm. Why did I have to open my big, dumb mouth sometimes?

  "Yeah, that sounds good too," I mumbled as I turned to look out the window. Clark squeezed my hand again and when I glanced at him, a smile spread across his face. I smiled back at him, feeling a little less stupid.

  We turned down a gravel driveway that led into a field. There were a few sheds around the property that used to hold farming equipment, but over the years had turned into storage for the Hayride. Clark pulled the truck up in front of one of the sheds and shifted into park.

  I hopped out of the cab and Clark got out to open up the shed doors. This was the shed where the big rusty tractor was stored. It wasn't pretty to look at, especially after it had been painted orange to try and go with the Halloween theme. But it ran like a dream.

  Clark shoved the door open, but the shed was empty. Instead of a hard to miss orange tractor, there was just a large empty space inside.

  "What the..." Clark said as he took a step back. I glanced around at the other sheds, wondering if any of them were big enough to house an entire tractor. Maybe it was just in a different shed for some reason.

  "Could it be in that shed over there?" I asked, pointing to the only other large enough shed on the property. All of the other ones were just little concession stands or only big enough to house a few little tables in case of inclement weather during the Hayride.

  "I suppose it could be," Clark shrugged. I got the feeling he and I were in agreement that whoever took out the tractor last time maybe shouldn't be allowed to drive it again. It seemed like forgetting where you are supposed to put the tractor means automatic tractor banishment.

  We started walking towards the other large shed on the property when I caught a glimpse of orange out of the corner of my eye. The tractor was sitting in the middle of the field, seemingly abandoned.

  "Hey," I said, tugging on Clark's sleeve. "I found the tractor."

  "What in the world is it doing out there?" he seemingly asked to the sky as I also had no idea why it was there. "I wonder if maybe someone took it out and it ran out of gas? Maybe they just didn't know what else to do with it."

  I followed Clark as we tromped through the field towards the tractor when suddenly he stopped short and I ran straight into the back of him. Thankfully I was directly behind him otherwise I would have taken an elbow to the face.

  "Hey, what's the big deal?" I asked. Clark turned around, his face looking pale. He looked like he'd just seen a ghost.

  "I don't think you'll want to see this," he said. For a second, I thought he might be playing a joke on me. But then I peered around him.

  Lying on the ground behind the tractor was a large lump that looked like a piece of roadkill. But this wasn't just an unlucky raccoon or rabbit. Earl Stone had been run over by the Halloween Hayride.

  Chapter 6

  The flashing red and blue lights lit up the hayride field and made it really feel like Halloween. After we called the emergency line, Clark and I had sat in his truck, quietly listening to the radio and waiting for the police to come. It was a completely surreal scene and I know for sure that I didn't really know what to say. Apparently Clark hadn't either, because besides the polka hour that played on 920 AM, it had been silence until the first squad car appeared on the scene. When the driver's side door swung open, I let out a quiet squeak. It must not have been quiet enough though because Clark looked at me like I was crazy until he also noticed who had gotten out of the police car.

  I love Shady Lake, but the one thing I hate about small towns is how the people you don't want to see always end up right where you are. The first officer on the scene was Officer Max Marcus aka my high school boyfriend aka the other guy I have been casually seeing since I moved back to town. He also happened to be the exact physical opposite of Clark. Where Clark had dark hair and was tall and thin, Max was blond haired and blue eyed. He was short and stocky, but in a way where he had plenty of muscle on his body.

  The biggest thing was that where Clark and I had just met a few months ago, Max and I had met in elementar
y school and dated for almost six years. We got together in junior high and stayed together all through high school. We were that couple that everyone thought would last forever.

  Except I decided to move away to go to college and Max didn't. A long distance relationship just didn't work for us once I met Peter. It didn't help that Max met someone else too. But here we were now. Ten years later and we were dating again. Unfortunately, one of the things we have in common now is the fact that we were both recently widowed.

  Max smiled at me as he walked up to the truck and then noticed that Clark was in the driver's seat. His smile quickly changed into a scowl. Now before you think I was two timing either of these men, rest assured that Max and Clark definitely know about each other. They both know that I date both of them. They both go out and date other women also. None of the three of us is in a place in life where we want to be exclusively dating anyone. But that doesn't mean they necessarily like each other. The one thing they have in common is that they are both very competitive, especially when it comes to me.

  I opened the truck door and hopped down onto the gravel driveway. I waved a little at Max as I shut the truck door. Max had already recovered from seeing Clark and I together and now he was all business.

  "Hey there Tessa," he said. "I need you and Clark to show me what happened here."

  "Sure, come on over here Max," Clark said. He started towards the tractor with Max close on his heels. I trailed behind, watching the ground as I walked. I watched a lot of crime shows and I know that sometimes people bumble around crime scenes with no regard to the state of any potential clues. I was determined not to do that. Plus, I just didn't really want to step in something gross.

  When I caught up to the men, they were looking back and forth between the tractor and Earl's body. This time, I got a better look at the body and it was pretty obvious that he had been run over by the tractor. I wandered over to get a closer look at the tractor.

  "Do you think he was trying to drive the tractor and fell over the front and got run over?" Clark asked. The undertone of his question was that obviously Earl probably didn't know how to drive a tractor. He seemed like a city slicker.

  "That doesn't seem likely," I chimed in. "First of all, falling over the front would be pretty hard. Second of all, look at the tractor. Whoever was driving was wearing denim jeans. And Earl is definitely in a pair of khakis."

  "You're right," Max said. I could see the wheels turning in his head. Obviously he had been under the impression that whatever had happened had been an accident. But that seemed to have flipped with the discovery of the denim threads. Plus it wasn't like Earl Stone was some beloved town figure who everyone loved.

  "I'm going to walk you two back to your truck to wait," Max said. "And I'm sorry, but I'll need you to give me your keys so I know you won't be able to go anywhere. I know we will have more questions for you but we need to investigate a little bit first."

  "That seems a bit much," Clark said. He was clutching his truck keys tight in his fist as his eyes flashed. It didn't take much of a challenge from Max to get him fired up.

  "Well maybe I need to detain you in my squad car seeing as you were the first person on the scene, you are wearing denim jeans, and you've previously had a run-in with the deceased," Max said. He had to actually look up to look Clark in the face, but he puffed his chest out to make up for it.

  "Oh for goodness sake, can you both relax a bit," I said. It seemed like an odd thing to say at the scene of a potential murder, but so was having a duel over my love at a crime scene. "Clark, it makes sense that the police don't want us to leave as we were the ones who discovered the body. Max, Clark obviously didn't kill Earl. He went straight from football practice to picking me up for our date. Plus, he doesn't have any pieces missing from his pants."

  They both managed to scowl at me before nodding their agreement. By this point, an ambulance and three more police cars had pulled up and the officers had been taking pictures and taping off the crime scene so no one else could get into the field.

  Clark and I walked back and sat in the bed of his truck. There was no use climbing in the front of the truck. We didn't have the keys, so it wasn't like we could listen to music or anything. At least it was still somewhat warm outside so we didn't have to worry about getting cold. Plus we could see more of what the police officers were doing from the truck bed.

  I really didn't have to worry about getting cold because as soon as we were both sitting on the tailgate, Clark pulled me as close as he could and put his arm around me. I did a quick scan of my surroundings and saw that Max wasn't anywhere in sight, so I relaxed into the side of him.

  "Well this is a heck of a date," Clark said. "I know you like Halloween, but this is a bit much."

  "Yeah, unfortunately this is just how things go in my life," I sighed. "Not that I stumble across dead bodies all the time. Just that things never really go how I plan them. I've ended up in strange situations way more times than I can count."

  Clark chuckled and rubbed his hand up and down my flannel clad arm. The warmth exploded through my entire body. I knew I could count on him to help warm me up.

  "But what do you think happened to Earl?" I asked. I was so curious. This was just like one of my podcasts coming to life. I think sometimes that I watch too many crime shows for my own good. But maybe not considering what had happened.

  "Who cares?" Clark scoffed. "It isn't like it's a giant loss to our community. At least now he won't be ruining the Halloween Hayride."

  "Really?" I asked. "Because I think he kind of already did. Just not in the way that he was expecting to."

  No matter what happened, I decided in that moment that I needed to make sure that the Halloween Hayride would still go on as planned.

  Chapter 7

  Clark was in the back of a squad car giving a statement. They had taken me over first, but I didn't have a lot to say because I hadn't actually discovered the body. I had been too busy running into Clark's back. They were more interested in what Clark saw when he first stumbled upon Earl.

  So I took advantage of the fact that Clark would be a while and decided to try to do some snooping of my own. Besides, I was stuck out in that field with no way home and not even a radio to listen to. I needed something to do. I rationalized that I listened to a lot of true crime stuff, so I knew the basic things you shouldn't do at a crime scene.

  I tried to look as casual as possible but even though I stuck out like a sore thumb as one of the only people there not in a uniform, somehow I managed to walk right on by everyone. I tried to look sharp just in case I spotted a clue. But mostly I just saw the old sheds and a bunch of grass and trees.

  The police had used the yellow tape to mark off a giant area around the tractor and Earl's body. That meant that even if I did find anything, it probably wouldn't be relevant to the case. I sat down at one of the tables in the dining shed and looked at my phone. Of course, no one had called or texted me and I didn't have any apps I could check. So I flipped it shut and jammed it back into my pocket.

  "What do you think you are doing?" a voice boomed from the shadows.

  I jumped to my feet immediately. My adrenaline was racing and I tried to calculate which exit was the closest for me to get out of the shed. I turned to face the voice, sure it had to be the murderer. Instead, Max was grinning at me as he stepped closer to me.

  "Max, you scared the living daylights out of me," I said. "I was sure I was going to be the next one murdered."

  "I didn't mean to scare you Sweet Thing," he said, using his old high school nickname for me. Every time I heard him call me that, I became a puddle. I'm pretty sure he knew that too, which was why he used it so often. "But I do know that you are definitely not supposed to be over here. I need you to wait by the truck until your date can take you home."

  "I just got so bored," I said. "Can't we have the keys now? I was already interviewed and Clark is talking to the other cops now. I just want to listen to the radio."

/>   Max thought about it for a second and then dug the keys out of his pocket. He turned them over in his his hands a few times before flipping them to me with a low toss. I barely managed to catch them.

  "I supposed that's alright," he said. "But hey Tessa? Don't go snooping around. You haven't changed much since high school and I remember how much you liked to play detective back then."

  I blushed a bit, remembering how I used to try to help girls who thought their boyfriends were two-timing them. I would set up entire reconnaissance missions to try and catch them in a lie. And you know what? I was darn good at it. That has been the start of my true crime obsession, I think.

  I watched Max walk away from me back to the crime scene. He was definitely a man who looked good in a uniform. I started back towards the truck when I realized the keyring had a small flashlight on it. I turned it on and scanned the ground. It had been an exciting enough night; I didn't need to make it any more exciting by breaking my ankle.

  Looking down, I spotted a large boot print in teh dirt. It was a little odd considering it looked like the print of a heavy duty boot someone would wear once it snowed. It was probably just Max's police boot. But then I noticed that the boot prints from where Max had been standing were a totally different print.

  I started to follow the boot prints. There were a few, one right after the other. It looked like whoever made these prints had been in the field by the tractor and had walked towards the sheds and gravel driveway.

  One glance back towards the squad car with Clark in it confirmed that he was still giving his story. I definitely wanted to follow these boot prints. I had an insatiable appetite, so the same thing that made me binge listen to murder podcasts also urged me to follow these footprints

  The prints were pretty far apart, almost as if this person with the large, heavy-duty boots had been running. Maybe they had been running for help after an accident with the tractor? Or maybe they had been running away from a person they had just murdered?