Halloween Hayride Murder

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Halloween Hayride Murder Page 12

by Linnea West


  Well, that's certainly different. But I guess it'll work. We will have to try harder on a costume next year.

  My heart skipped a beat. Even though both Max and I had agreed that we were just seeing each other casually since neither of us was ready for a serious relationship yet, it was still heart melting to hear that he thought we'd be dressing up together again next year.

  I opened a new tab and typed "ketchup mustard costume signs" into the search engine. I was sure I'd find something that would look a whole lot better than anything I could make on the fly. Now, my only problem would be finding yellow pants.

  Chapter 26

  The next morning, I was saddened but not surprised to see Ronald on the front page of the Shady Lake Tribune as he was led into the courthouse in handcuffs. It made me a little mad that they had put him in handcuffs. It wasn't like Ronald was going to be much trouble. As we sat together to eat breakfast in the kitchen, my dad read the story out loud. I tried to not visibly wince as he got to the part about the watch being found on account of an anonymous tip. My dad glanced at me, trying to read my expression, but I remained as neutral as I possibly could. I felt bad enough about what happened. I didn't need my father to pile more guilt on top of it.

  "I can honestly say I never saw that coming," my mother said as she sipped her tea. Once my parents had retired, my mother decided she needed to take up drinking tea because otherwise she'd be drinking coffee all day and would probably never sleep again because she'd be up using the bathroom all the time. I'm not really sure what is different about her tea drinking habit, but I didn't bother asking. I get my coffee drinking habits from her, including a cup of decaf with my dessert every night.

  "Ronald always seemed like such a gentle man," my mom said. "I can't imagine why he would have killed Earl."

  "Well, I think we understand why," my father said. "Earl was a terrible, terrible person. Not that I think that anyone should be murdered or anything. I also think that Ronald still is a gentle man. I think the police may be grasping at straws a bit. This is already the second suspect they've brought in that they were sure did it."

  I quietly focused on eating my eggs and bacon. I nodded along and just made some noises of agreement so that hopefully they wouldn't ask me my opinion. I really didn't want to talk about the investigation. I'd put enough thought into it and it was at a point where I didn't think I could do anything else even though I thought the police had it wrong.

  "As long as it doesn't ruin our haunted house," Tank grunted into his cereal. Despite the amazing breakfasts my parents cook for us and the guests, Tank was a typical teenager who after devouring more than his share, still needed a giant bowl of sugary cereal for his breakfast. Sometimes I wondered if I should buy him some sort of vacuum attachment we could affix to his face for even more proficient food consumption.

  "I'm sure your haunted house will go on just as planned," I said. "In fact, since I am the one in charge of the Hayride now, I know it'll be just fine. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go check on the guests."

  Tank rolled his eyes at my statement. I ignored it, slurped down the rest of my coffee and stood up from the table. My mother and Tank were somewhat oblivious, but my father gave me a pointed look. Anyone else would've just thought he had an itch on his face that he was trying to be rid of by arching his eyebrow, but growing up with him, I recognized a look of doubtfulness when I saw it.

  I pushed through the swinging door with the coffee carafe, a routine I repeated every morning. This time, though, an accused murderer that I had cleared was also sitting at the dining room table. Ralph had moved into Susy's room after he was released from jail because they were both told they needed to hang out in Shady Lake until everything was totally settled.

  The mood around the breakfast table was much more subdued than the happy chatter that I had found on previous mornings. There was a copy of the Shady Lake Tribune on the table with Ronald's face staring up at everyone, but everyone was ignoring it and from it's pristine condition, I got the feeling that no one had dared to even touch it this morning.

  I made the rounds, quietly filling cups and checking to see if anyone needed more food. When I got to Ralph's spot, he grabbed my sleeve as I finished filling up his coffee cup. He pulled me down a little bit closer to him.

  "Tessa, I heard you were the one who got me released," he said quietly. "I just wanted to thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you so much. I, I mean we, are forever indebted to you."

  Ralph looked straight into my eyes and squeezed my hand before looking towards Susy. Susy looked at him with such a look of love that I almost shed a tear. I was glad to see that some good did come out of this situation, even if I still felt guilty.

  "You're welcome," I said. It was the only thing I could say. This situation just felt like it was spiraling out of everyone's control. First Ralph had been the suspect and I wasn't sure if he was or not, but I helped clear him. Now Ronald was the suspect that I helped implicate, even if I wasn't sure it was him either. I needed to clear my head.

  As usual, I drove myself to the Donut Hut. I parked in my usual alley spot, but I wasn't sure I wanted to see Mandy all by myself. I had a feeling that she had some words for me and I was feeling guilty enough as it was. So I pushed open the front door and waved to the regulars as I walked up to the counter. I had to plaster a fake smile on my face, because every table I went past had a copy of the Shady Lake Tribune on it with that same picture of Ronald staring up at me. Everyone was absolutely buzzing from the news of Ronald being brought in as the main suspect in the murder.

  There was already one person waiting for their donut and, judging by the mop of red hair, it was someone I didn't really want to see.

  "I'm just so glad I was there to get the picture last night," Chelsea was telling Mandy over the counter as I walked up. "If I keep getting these front page stories, I might just be able to work my way up to a bigger newspaper."

  "I highly doubt blurry pictures and a cobbled together story will make you a famous journalist," I said. Chelsea whirled around and Mandy glared at me even though I know she was thinking it too. My big mouth got me again. I kicked myself a little, wondering why I never learn from my mistakes.

  "Oh that's rich, coming from someone who couldn't make it in the big city and had to come running home to mom and dad," Chelsea said. She gave me one more stink eye and then turned back to Mandy. "Give me my donut please. I'd rather not hang around with someone who can't spot real talent."

  Sometimes, I'm not sure how Mandy can keep a straight face, but she did as she handed Chelsea a chocolate, glazed donut wrapped in a piece of wax paper. Chelsea stomped past me to the front door, giving me a look that would have been accompanied by a stuck-out tongue if we'd been in elementary school.

  "Tessa," Mandy said. She had a way of saying my name in a motherly tone of voice that just chilled me to the bone sometimes. I tried to play the innocent act, but it didn't work. She could always see right through me.

  "Okay, so I'm feeling pretty bad this morning," I said. Mandy put a frosted cake donut on a plate and slid it across the counter to me. She always knew how to make me feel better. Food was her love language.

  "Go sit down over there and I'll bring you a cup of coffee," she said. Mandy smiled just enough to show that she wasn't upset with me.

  I walked over to the same table I had stealthily interrogated Ralph at. It was hidden away in a corner, perfect for watching everyone else and hiding from them at the same time.

  A few moments and half of a donut later, Mandy walked over with two steaming, white ceramic mugs in hand. When she sat down, we spent a few moments just drinking coffee, not just talking. I had a briefly wondered how long we spent in life doing this exact thing: sitting at the Donut Hut drinking coffee and eating donuts. I'd love to see how many hours we passed together like this when I got to the end of my life.

  "It isn't your fault," Mandy said finally.

  "Yes it is," I said. "Who else's fau
lt would it be? I turned in the watch and now Ronald has been arrested."

  "It isn't your fault because all you did was turn in a piece of evidence that you found at a crime scene," Mandy said. "You did exactly what you should have done."

  "Well isn't that a first," I muttered before I drained the rest of my coffee.

  Mandy gave me a pointed look.

  "The only other choice you had was to hide evidence that possibly implicated a murderer," Mandy said quietly. "I don't really think that would be the best choice."

  I nodded. I looked over at my friend and thought about how great it is to have a lifelong friend. Mandy saw things in me that I never would and she was not afraid to tell me the good and the bad. I don't know what I would do without her.

  Chapter 27

  "I thought for sure we'd be able to find red and yellow pants here," Max muttered. We were at the second hand store and we had only been there for three minutes, but apparently Max had expected the right pants to just magically fly off of the rack and into our hands.

  I rolled my eyes at him and kept scanning the racks for anything acceptable to add to our condiment costumes. We had already been to a regular store and found our red and yellow shirts but nothing to wear on the bottom half, so here we were shopping second hand. Now, I love second hand shopping. My mother and I love to come down here on a Saturday morning and just scan through the racks to find some gems. But it was a little different when you came looking for something very specific.

  The only hard part was that besides a very basic organization, everything was just thrown onto racks. They separated clothing into mens, womens, or children and then they divided tops from bottoms. So when you wanted to look for something very specific, you had to go to the general section and just start digging.

  And that is exactly what I had done. Max and I had started in the men's clothing looking for a pair of red pants. And we were certainly finding red pants, but not the right kind of red. All of the red pants we had pulled out so far were more of a maroon color, which was definitely not right for a ketchup costume.

  "Ah ha!" Max said, as he triumphantly pulled a hanger out of the depths of a clothes rack. A pair of bright red athletic pants were draped over it.

  "Now the real test," I said. "Are they the right size?"

  Max grabbed them off of the hanger and held them up to himself. They were a little long, but otherwise looked like they would work around the middle.

  "I'll just roll up the bottoms," he said. "Now to try to find you some yellow pants."

  We walked over to the women's section. This was going to be a challenge. I figured we could find red bottoms because Shady Lake High School's colors were red and blue. Actually, we called the school colors "cherry" and blue and while there wasn't much of a distinction between cherry and red, we made sure to always say cherry and blue.

  Yellow, on the other hand, was not going to be anywhere as prevalent. Just a glance around showed a very distinctive lack of yellow anywhere in the women's section. I half wondered if someone who really loved yellow had already been in and snatched up everything they could find.

  "So, how is Ronald doing?" I asked. I'd been wondering if I dared bring up the investigation, but Max seemed to be in a good mood, so I decided to risk it.

  "Oh, he is doing fine, all things considered," Max said. I wasn't sure if he was just really busy looking for the elusive yellow pants or if he didn't want to tell me much.

  "Yeah? Whatever happened with the watch?" I asked. I tried to look casual as I flipped through the clothing.

  Max shot me a look. It seemed like he was weighing whether he should tell me something important or not. I quietly kept leafing through the clothing, pretending not to notice him glancing at me.

  "Ronald claims the watch isn't his," Max said. "He says that yes, his watch is missing but no, that one isn't his and no, he can't tell us what happened to his watch."

  If Ronald had known where his watch was, why didn't he get it and put it on when I had pointed out it was gone? Yet another piece of information to file away.

  "Well, does that one I found fit him?" I asked. "Maybe it isn't his watch."

  "That's sort of the problem," Max said. "When people at City Hall get their watch, they just get a standard watch. It isn't sized for them and it isn't personalized. The jewelry store just keeps a couple in stock for whenever another one is needed. So technically that watch could belong to anyone who has worked at City Hal for more than five years."

  I nodded at Max and tried to keep up my casual act, but inside a wave of relief rushed over me. Maybe Ronald hadn't done it. Had he been framed then? Or was the killer still out there somewhere in hiding?

  Max cleared his throat suddenly and I startled. I got the feeling that I'd been standing there staring at nothing like an idiot while I thought through the implications of the mystery watch.

  "Okay Detective," he said with a sly smile on his face. He walked over to stand next to me. "Don't take this as a sign you need to take up the case or anything."

  I elbowed him playfully in the ribs. He could read me like a book. Between Max and Mandy, I could never keep anything secret.

  "I do want to ask you one more thing," I said. I had a chance and I was going to seize hold of it and milk Max for all of the information I could get. "Do you think it is Ronald's watch or do you think he is lying? I want to know what you personally think, not what the police are thinking."

  Max sighed and bit his lip. He stopped looking at the clothing racks and turned to face me. He took my hand in his. I was always a little bit surprised by how soft his large hands were.

  "What I am going to tell you is strictly between us and I'm only telling you because you trusted me to give the watch to," Max said quietly. I nodded, hoping nothing would break the spell that had apparently been cast over us in this moment.

  "I really want to believe that he didn't do it," Max said. "I've known Ronald for years just like you and I just don't think this is something he would ever do. But what else am I supposed to think when he admits he doesn't have his watch and won't tell us anything about it?"

  "That's understandable," I said.

  "The other thing is that when we first brought him in, the first thing he said was that he had been down at the field earlier in the day, but he couldn't tell us where he actually was during the murder," Max said. "He said that it was possible we would find his DNA or something because he had been down there practicing with the tractor, but he said he has an alibi that he can't tell us. I've gone round and round with him because that's not really an alibi then, is it? But he just won't say what he was doing that night."

  What in the world could be so bad that Ronald didn't want to tell police about? What could be worse than being charged with murder? I wondered if it was something he was keeping from Melinda. The only thing Ronald was more devoted to than Shady Lake was his crotchety wife.

  "Hey, look what I found," Max announced. He triumphantly pulled a bright yellow pair of wind pants out of the rack. They looked about three sizes too big, but I could cinch them up until they fit. Judging from the lack of anything else yellow, they would have to do.

  "Score!" I said. "They'll have to work."

  Max looked very proud of himself and his find. He did a little dance while he waved them around to show off that he'd been the one to find them. Clark would never think of doing something so silly, but I loved seeing Max's silly side.

  We brought our purchases up to the counter to pay for them. We spent a grand total of $1.50 on the purchase of our costume bottoms. Really, the only thing we had left to do was to find the signs we would print off to wear. I had already downloaded a few options, so I just had to make my choice and print them off. If I was feeling really into it, I would maybe even laminate them.

  Max needed to get to work soon, so he drove me the long, winding way around the lake while we held hands, just like in high school. We had spent a lot of time in high school clipping the lake with the music bla
sting, although a lot of times we had Mandy along in the back seat. Somehow having her along never felt like having a third wheel.

  I tried to focus on the here and now while we wound our way to the B&B. I looked at the beautiful colors of the trees and tried to think about how much I love autumn. But instead I kept thinking about why in the world Ronald wouldn't come clean about his alibi.

  Chapter 28

  Ralph was sitting by himself in the front room of the B&B when I got home from my mid-day date with Max. Maybe he had some information about Ronald and what in the world was happening. After all, he kind of owed me.

  "Hey there," I said as I came in. "Can I get you a drink?"

  "Oh sure," he said. "Any sort of cola would be great."

  I went to the kitchen and grabbed a can of pop for Ralph and a glass of lemonade for myself. I walked the tray of beverages back to the living room where Ralph was sitting on the couch, staring out the window. My father had filled the yard space outside of the living room with bird feeders, a bird bath, and bird houses. Sometimes I wondered if he had maybe gone a little overboard with the bird stuff, but it worked. There were always birds coming and going, sometimes blue jays and cardinals, but also a lot of chickadees.

  "Thanks for the drink," Ralph said. "You know, one of the things I missed while I was in jail was pop. They only let me drink water and then a little cardboard carton of milk at meals. But a cola really hits the spot."

  For a while, we sat in silence and enjoyed our beverages while we watched the birds. I couldn't imagine being in jail and not being able to enjoy something as simple as a pop. I wondered if they could drink coffee in jail. That brought my thoughts back to Ronald. I just couldn't imagine what he was hiding that was so important.

 

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