Halloween Hayride Murder

by Linnea West

  Ralph-big boot print that might match his boot, admits he was at the field and pushed Earl that night

  Ronald-found his watch at the site of the murder, wants to protect the Halloween Hayride and the money Shady Lake gets from it.

  I sat back for a moment and thought about the facts. Who else would want Earl out of the picture? I had only seen him twice around town, but then I remembered the second time. He and Candy were on the street corner having some sort of argument the morning before he died. They both didn't look very happy. And that was less than a day before he was killed. I added Candy to the list.

  Candy-argued with Earl that day

  The last person I added was Susy. I still didn't know much about her, but she had practically handed me a motive. Plus her dirty car meant she had been somewhere out in the country recently.

  Susy-mad about inheritance, car was dusty

  I had to admit that the last piece of "evidence" was pretty weak, but if I dig, maybe I could find something else going on there. Not that I wanted to talk too much to that sour puss.

  Overall, I felt like I was spinning in circles. I wondered if the police felt the same way. Sure Ralph seemed to have evidence piling up against him but, for obvious reasons, the police didn't know about Ronald's watch that I had found at the scene of the crime.

  "Ahem."

  I looked up to see Susy clearing her throat in front of me. I jumped a little and scrambled to cover up the piece of paper that I had stupidly labeled SUSPECTS in large letters. Papers flew all over the desk and the floor in my hurry. I winced a little at how oblivious I had been.

  "Hello Ms. Martin," I said in my syrupy retail voice once I had gathered myself a bit. "How can I help you?"

  "I'm actually feeling quite ill and I was wondering if I could maybe get a ginger ale in my room?"

  She did look rather green. The poor woman must be taking her cousin's death pretty hard.

  "Of course," I said. "You go on up and I will bring one in just a moment."

  I practically skipped to the kitchen once she was out of sight. This was just the moment I needed to try and get some more information about her. I pushed open the swinging door to the kitchen to see my father sitting at the table. We had a dining room with a large table for the guests and for our family dinners. But the kitchen was much more intimate, with a small square table over by the kitchen windows. Only four of us still lived here: my parents, me, and my youngest brother Tank. We didn't need a full dinner table every night any more.

  "Hi Pumpkin," my dad said. "What are you so happy about?"

  "Oh nothing," I said. "Just getting down to solving a mystery I've been curious about."

  I grimaced a little bit as I realized what I had said, but I hoped he hadn't caught it. I opened the fridge and pulled out a ginger ale. We weren't big pop drinkers, but we tried to keep some of the most requested kinds for the guests to enjoy.

  "You aren't trying to investigate that murder, are you?" my father asked. He had the local paper open on the table in front of him, but instead of looking at the high school sports scores, he was raising an eyebrow at me.

  For a moment, I wondered if I should try to play it off like it was nothing, but my dad had always been able to read me like a book. I think it has something to do with the fact that I'm the kid that is most like him, personality-wise at least.

  "Maybe a little bit," I squirmed and looked at my feet, not able to look him in the eye. "I'm not getting in the way, but since I found the body, I kind of feel a responsibility to figure out what happened to Earl."

  My dad sighed a long sigh and shut the paper. I could see the front page had a big picture of the orange tractor sitting in the middle of the field and the headline shouted "HALLOWEEN HAYRIDE IS STILL ON." I was pretty sure the byline was Chelsea. I'm also sure she was hoping to have more of a lead to report on but from what I gathered, the police were playing this pretty close to the vest. I'm sure she was not happy about having to make her front page story about the Halloween Hayride instead of the more exciting murder.

  "Honey, you should not get wrapped up in this," he said. "I look the other way when you meddle in friendships and gossip. I even look the other way when you get yourself entwined in the problems of the guests who stay here. But I can't let you meddle with a murder."

  "Oh Dad," I said, rolling my eyes at him. I know he was concerned, but I am a grown woman. I don't need my dad to take care of me. "I'm fine. It's not like I would do something dumb."

  "Well, I think investigating a murder on your own is kind of dumb," he said. "But to each their own, I guess."

  He opened the newspaper in front of him, shaking it to get the folds and wrinkles out. I wasn't about to let him get the last word this time.

  "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree," I said with as straight of a face as I could pull. But as soon as my dad snorted out a laugh, I busted out laughing. I prided myself on being the only one of my siblings who could never fail to make him laugh.

  My dad just waved a hand at me as if to say "get out of here." Then he turned a page of the paper and immersed himself back into the world of local news. I grabbed a tray and beside the can of ginger ale, I put a glass and a bowl of ice cubes with a little set of tongs. It was much fancier than I normally would do, but I tried to go all out to impress this suburban woman.

  As I pushed myself out the swinging kitchen door, I had a flash of a memory with Peter as I saw the dining room table. Peter grew up in a small family that was just his parents, his brother, and himself. The first time I invited him to dinner with my family, he was gobsmacked. All five of us kids and my parents sat down with Peter. The table had been loaded down as it was a Sunday dinner. Roast chicken, mashed potatoes, salad, all sorts of delicious food lined the table.

  We all bowed our heads and said grace before starting to load up our plates. I had realized that Peter was so out of his element that he was just sitting in his chair staring at everyone instead of filling his plate with food. I started slopping food onto his plate along with my own plate in a crazed way. When he finally noticed what I was doing, he asked me what was going on.

  "If you don't get it now, you aren't gonna eat," I had apparently shouted in his face.

  It had taken me a while to figure out why he was so out of place amongst the food slopping and my brother tossing a roll to everyone at the table. Then I went to dinner at Peter's house. Everyone sat down very quietly and passed the serving dishes around the table. Everyone used manners and only made polite conversation instead of burping the alphabet and singing their new favorite song between bites.

  Later on, I had asked Peter why in the world he stayed with me after that first family dinner where he was obviously uncomfortable.

  "You push me out of my comfort zone," Peter had said. "I like that."

  I left that memory in the dining room. I paused at the foot of the stairs, wondering if I should try to plan out what I wanted to say a little more. But so far, winging it was working for me. So I started up the stairs, hoping a ginger ale would help me solve a murder.

  Chapter 13

  At the top of the wide, sweeping stairs, I stopped to catch my breath. I had been eating too many donuts and not getting enough exercise lately. I made a mental note to myself to try and change that, even though I knew that wouldn't happen at least until the holiday season was over. I suppose I'd have to make a New Years resolution to help.

  I walked to the end of the hall and knocked on the door of the Cardinal Room. Each of the rooms in the inn was named after a bird that is common to Minnesota and that the guests may even see in our vast yard. Besides the Cardinal Room, there was also the Blue Jay Room, the Chickadee Room, the Woodpecker Room, and the Hummingbird Suite, which was also our honeymoon suite.

  My dad has always enjoyed bird watching. He wasn't one of those crazy bird watchers with a gigantic list of bird species they want to see and check off. Instead, he enjoys sitting in the bay window and watching birds. There are a few bird id
entification books and a pair of binoculars in a drawer next to my dad's favorite chair. When my parents decided to open the bed and breakfast, my dad jumped at the chance to use birds as the theme.

  "Come in," Susy's weak voice replied from within.

  I pushed open the door and brought the tray inside. Susy was lying on the bed all wrapped up in the quilt, looking like death warmed over. My dad had been adamant about not putting televisions in the guest rooms even though we tried to tell him that was a terrible idea. Susy had found a way around it and was watching some sort of house hunting show on a laptop that was sitting next to her on the bed.

  "Here you go Ms. Martin," I said. "I found a ginger ale for you. Are you feeling alright?"

  "Oh yes, it is just a little tummy bug," she said. She started to push herself up on her elbows, but shut her eyes and lowered herself back down again.

  "I can pour it in the glass if you'd like," I offered. She waved her hand ever so slightly, so I took that to mean I should go ahead. As I poured, I figured I'd take some time to ask some more questions.

  "So, I know you said you didn't see eye to eye with your cousin, but were you ever close?" I asked. If they had once been close, that could explain why she was so upset.

  "No, never," Susy said. "But I was close to my uncle. That is why it was quite a surprise when I found out the business went to Earl. Uncle Gordon and I used to talk on the phone everyday. I knew that he didn't think women should run a car business, but I didn't think he would give it to my incompetent cousin instead of me. I suppose he didn't think Earl would be so terrible at managing the business."

  I set the glass of ginger ale on the nightstand next to Susy's head. It was good to hear that Gordon hadn't been as lonely as he had seemed. Susy gave another attempt to sit up. This time, she was able to hoist herself up to a sitting position, even if she was still a bit slumped over.

  The quilt slipped down and I saw that she was wearing a light blue silk pajama top. I was amazed at how despite her illness, she managed to still look somewhat put together. I thought about the giant t-shirt and pajama pants I slept in. I had won the shirt in a raffle at the county fair and the pants used to be Peter's. I wasn't ready to give up the pants, but I added "new pajama shirt" to my mental to-do list.

  "I bet that made you pretty upset," I said. "I know it would make me angry if my good for nothing cousin was running a family business into the ground. Did your uncle leave you anything?"

  "Yes, so I really shouldn't complain," she said. "He left me everything else. I'm already in the process of selling his house, but I kept the car. That's the one I've been driving. He also left me all of his money, which was quite a lot. Uncle Gordon was no dummy when it came to the stock market."

  Susy took a sip of ginger ale. Apparently that helped, because she immediately took three more small sips after it. So her financial motive wasn't really a motive. I guess she still may have killed Earl because she was mad about the car lot. But it wasn't like she needed the money. It sounded like Gordon had made sure she was financially secure even if he didn't trust her to run some rinky dink, small town used car dealership.

  "Well that's good," I said. "I think you got the better end of the deal, honestly. You seem like someone comfortable in the suburbs. It isn't like you'd want to stay here in Shady Lake."

  "Lately I haven't been so sure about the burbs," she said. "There are a couple of reasons that I'm looking to slow down my life and really enjoy it. Shady Lake seems great for that. I've been going back and forth about whether I should sell Uncle Gordon's house or live in it."

  "It really is great for that," I said. My life had certainly needed some slowing down after Peter died and Shady Lake had provided.

  "I should be getting back to the desk," I said. I didn't want to overstay my welcome, so I grabbed the tray and headed towards the door. "Let me know if you need anything else."

  "Will do," Susy said. "Thanks again. I really needed this."

  I smiled at her and let myself out of her room. I smiled to myself as I walked back down to the kitchen. One nice thing about a small town was these little glimpses of humanity. Somehow, these sorts of breaking down of barriers just didn't happen when I lived in the big city.

  When I got back to the kitchen to put the tray away, my dad was gone. The newspaper was folded up nicely on the table. After I shoved the tray back into a cabinet, I walked over to take a closer look at the front page.

  There was something about the picture of the tractor that just didn't seem right, but I couldn't put my finger on it. I scanned it closely, looking for details that were out of place. I even squinted a little, but no matter what it just looked like a giant orange tractor sitting in the middle of the field.

  I wondered if I should try to go out to the field again to get a closer look. But I knew that wasn't feasible for two reasons. There was no way I could convince Mandy to go with me again. Plus I'd want to go during the daytime, but that was not a good idea. I really didn't want to get caught out there snooping around.

  When I got back to the front desk, I sat down and checked the phone messages. Like usual, there were none. Most of our business occurred online, so phone calls were rare. As I surfed the web a little on the out dated desktop my parents kept for business use, my phone buzzed.

  I flipped it open and instead of a message from Mandy, I was looking at a message from Ronald.

  Can you come to my office to meet about the Hayride? I have a few things I'd like to touch base on.

  I looked at the clock. It was almost 2, which was when the part time evening worker Helen came in. Helen had worked at the motel's front desk for years and when my parents opened the B&B, they gave her the chance to move over here. She was a quiet, gray haired woman who loved to make small talk with the guests. Once she arrived, I'd be free as a bird.

  I'll be over as soon as Helen arrives at 2. See you then.

  I set my phone down and went back to putzing around when my phone buzzed again. Instead of Ronald, this time it was a message from Clark.

  Hey Tess, I have a few ideas for our costumes. Let's go out soon to discuss. Don't worry, they are better than ketchup and mustard ;)

  Uh oh. I had been so deep in my investigation that I had forgotten about my costume debacle again. I still hadn't really decided what to do about that. I had told Clark first that I would dress up with him. But I know Max would be depending on me more and would be more heartbroken if I said I couldn't.

  I didn't text Clark back right away because I needed some more time to think. And another nice thing about a flip phone? No read receipts.

  Chapter 14

  Moving back to my hometown after some time away was odd partly because I felt like everything should be exactly the same when I had left, but obviously things had changed in the decade that I had been gone. So while the buildings were still the same, sometimes the business inside was different from before. One new thing was the new courthouse in town. It wasn't totally new, but it had been totally redone. The new courthouse housed all of the city and county offices along with the DMV and a small jail. I had driven by it a few times, but never been inside until today.

  I walked in the main doors into a beautiful vestibule. When they rebuilt the courthouse, they had maintained the beautiful old building, but simply revamped it and added onto it. The main vestibule was a large, open space with a large dome and a large mural surrounded by beautiful woodworking. I imagined it looked the same as it did when my great grandfather moved here.

  The rotunda had a large spiral staircase that ran around the edge of the round vestibule and up to the second floor. I climbed the stairs, admiring the beautifully redone wood and the wonderful stained glass window halfway up that threw colored flecks of lights around the room.

  At the top of the stairs, there was a set of double doors that led to all of the offices of city officials. I pushed it open and was shocked to see Candy sitting at one of the desks inside. There was a nameplate on her desk that listed her title
as "Assistant to the Mayor." She certainly did well for herself, so why was she cozying up to Earl? And I have to admit, I was a little surprised to find her at work after her boyfriend had just been murdered a few days ago. But they say that people grieve in all sorts of ways so I tried not to judge her.

  I walked up to her desk and waited while she ended a phone call. After I got closer, I noticed that she wasn't quite as put together as she had seemed. There were a few platinum curls that weren't quite in the right place and her mascara had been hastily applied so there were some black marks around her eyes. Her fingernails were painted, but it had grown out a little. Her desk had crumpled up tissues strewn all over what seemed like a usually tidy area. It looked like she was trying hard to look put together, but just wasn't able to live up to her usual standard.

  "Tessa?" she said. Her voice was still just as high pitched as it had been in high school. Candy had always tried a little too hard to fit in. She had been really nice, but always a little odd.

  "Hey Candy," I said, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder for a moment. "How are you holding up? I'm so sorry for your loss."

  "Thank you Tessy," she said. I cringed at the elementary school nickname I had long since shed. She dabbed at her eye with one of the wadded up tissues she grabbed off of her desk. "It is so hard, but I know that we will get justice for my Earl."

  "Yes we will," I said. I reached out and grabbed a hold of her hand to give it a squeeze. I tried not to think about the tears and boogers that were probably on her hands judging from the amount of tissues scattered around. "I'm sorry to say I didn't know much about Earl."

  Candy sniffled a few times. She reached out and turned a gold frame to face me. Inside was a picture of Candy and Earl that appeared to have been taken at the bowling alley. Earl looked like he'd had a few too many and he was wearing torn jeans and a stained t-shirt. He was focused on something off camera. Candy was draped over him wearing a pair of denim shorts that were just a bit too short and button up plaid shirt that was just a bit too tight.