“Sam, sweetie,” she called, “over here!”
I sidled through the crowd and met Patty at the counter, where she was hurriedly wrapping hand pies in paper and dealing them out to tourists.
“It’s a madhouse,” she explained breathlessly. “The parade can’t start soon enough. I’m having trouble keeping up!”
“Good for business, though?” I asked. Patty chuckled and nodded.
“I have something for you,” she said. “Baked it up special this morning. I know how much you love my pumpkin hand pies and I wanted to repay you for that delicious smoothie.”
She ducked behind the counter and emerged with a hand pie-shaped bundle wrapped in festive orange paper and tied with a thin ribbon. She held it out to me.
“Thank you so much,” I said, taking the bundle, “that’s very kind. But I’m not here for pie.”
“I’m afraid pie is all I’m selling,” Patty laughed.
“I need to know where you’re keeping the pumpkins,” I said, “and if there’s any chance someone else could have accessed your pumpkin stash.”
Patty blinked at me, confused.
“I have to keep the stash a secret,” Patty said, leaning forward and dropping her voice to a whisper. “Surely you understand that, as a businesswoman yourself...”
“I do,” I nodded. “And I promise not to tell anyone where you’re keeping them. The thing is, I think that whoever killed Chadwick Crane—the patissier—got into your stash.”
Patty clapped a hand over her mouth and shook her head.
“That can’t be...” she said through her fingers, “I’m the only one who knows where it is. Well, except for...”
She trailed off, her eyes growing wide and fearful.
“Except for who?” Tessa demanded, joining me at the booth. Patty looked between us, biting her lip.
“I don’t want to get them in trouble,” she whispered.
“Them?” I asked. “There’s more than one?”
Patty nodded miserably, looking close to tears.
“Come on,” Tessa urged, “spit it out.”
Tears began streaming down Patty’s flushed cheeks.
“I t-told the b-boys,” she sobbed, “f-from the jewelry table. Tanner and T-Tucker.”
I sighed, thinking back to my brief encounters with the lads at the jewelry table. They seemed grumpy, sure, but what teenager isn’t? They may have known about the pumpkin stash, but they were most certainly not suspects. Another dead end.
“They seemed like such nice b-boys,” Patty continued, sniffing. “But I should have known better after that t-terrible falling out they had with p-poor Mister Crane!”
She buried her face in her hands. Mara coughed uncomfortably and offered her a handkerchief, which she took gratefully.
“Please, Patty,” I urged, “this is important. Are you saying Tanner and Tucker fought with Mister Crane?”
Patty nodded reluctantly.
“The day before the...m-murder,” she hiccuped, “They were all fighting over booth space. Mister Crane bullied the boys into moving their table further away from his tent.”
“That’s not true!” Allie shouted indignantly, shoving through the crowd to join Tessa, Mara, and I at the counter. “That never happened.”
Patty pulled in her chin. Tessa frowned. Mara and I looked at each other, then at Allie, who looked suddenly sheepish.
“I mean...uh...” Allie began haltingly, her face turning a deep scarlet, “...that’s not what I heard.”
“What, dear daughter, did you hear?” Tessa asked, folding her arms. “And why have you chosen this exact moment to speak up?”
Allie shrunk away from her mother’s withering glare and slid closer to me. Aunt Sam the human shield.
“Tanner and Tucker said it was Miss Pearson who fought with Mister Crane about booth space,” Allie said meekly, still avoiding Tessa’s gaze. “They told me and Genevieve about it days ago.”
Tessa raised an eyebrow. Mara’s mouth twitched into a smile that she quickly hid by biting her lip.
“It seems like they started twisting the truth early on,” Patty said sorrowfully. “Perhaps looking to shift the blame...establish an alibi...”
“But they don’t need an alibi,” Allie countered, straightening up to look Patty in the eye. “They weren’t anywhere near Mister Crane on the night of the murder.”
“And how do you know that?” Tessa demanded. Allie scooted closer to me.
“Because they were at the lake that night,” she said firmly, “with Genevieve and I. We were on a double-date.”
Tessa took a deep breath and opened her mouth to start whatever lecture, curse, or tirade she had in store for Allie. I held up a hand to silence her.
“If it was you who fought with Mister Crane that day,” I turned to Patty, “why would you tell us it was the boys? Why make up something that would put them under suspicion?”
Patty dabbed at her eyes with the handkerchief and sighed deeply.
“Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out,” she said, shaking her head and looking exhausted. “You just couldn’t leave it alone, could you? Nosy thing. If only I’d been able to finish you off last night.”
Tessa nudged me with an elbow and pointed at the beautifully wrapped hand pie Patty had gifted me.
“You, uh...probably shouldn’t eat that.”
Chapter 24
Patty stepped back from the counter, looked around at the crowd surrounding the booth, and sighed dramatically.
“I knew you were getting close when you realized I had the pumpkins,” she said. “I was hoping to nip that in the bud, but you got lucky.”
She spun around and lunged for the back gate of her booth.
Mara moved before I could think, darting forward and vaulting over the counter. She snatched Patty’s arm and dug her heels into the ground.
“Can I get some help here?” she grunted as Patty struggled. Tessa and I leapt into the booth and took a hold of Patty’s shoulders.
“Don’t even think about moving,” Tessa growled. “Allie, get the Gallaghers on the line. Use my phone—Ethan’s in my contacts.”
A few of the tourists were beginning to take notice of what was happening in the Patty’s Pies booth. Some of them started to look concerned, probably wondering what three locals were doing invading Patty’s booth.
I tried to call out to the curious onlooker to tell them to leave the area for safety’s sake, but a tremendous sound from Main Street drowned out my admonition. The cannon fire that signaled the start of the Harvest Festival parade sounded two more times and was immediately followed by the blaring of the high school marching band.
The crowd began to cheer and turned their attention back to the street. On the other side of the counter, Allie scrolled through Tessa’s phone.
“It’s so hard to find anyone in here,” she complained. “Why don’t you put people’s last names in?”
“You girls trying some kind of citizen’s arrest?” Patty sneered, trying in vain to pull away. “My lawyer will—”
“—Quiet, you,” I told her. “Your lawyer will have enough to do, dealing with a murderer.”
“Murderer?” Patty threw her head back and laughed, sounding more than a little unhinged. “I am a victim of circumstance.”
“Sure you are,” Tessa rolled her eyes.
Patty glared at her.
“I was angry at Crane, yes,” she admitted, “but I never meant for him to die. I was just looking to give him a good scare.”
“Is that your excuse for running around with a pumpkin on your head?” Mara asked.
“It is, actually,” Patty snapped back, straining against my grasp. She was red-faced and sweating from struggling. “I was angry. It wasn’t me who purchased the pumpkins...it was Crane!”
“You lied,” I said slowly, realization dawning on me, “when I thought it was you who bought them...you let me believe it.”
“Sure did,” Patty winked. “You knew
that I had fresh pumpkins on hand. I had to think fast. I expected that little lie to tide you over until I could get to you.”
She started to giggle, gasped, and glared up at Tessa.
“Do you think you could loosen your grip a bit, missy? I bruise easy.”
“Nope,” Tessa replied flatly.
Allie climbed over the counter and joined us in the booth.
“Ethan says they’re on their way,” she said. “They are behind the parade, though, so it might be a while till they find a way around.”
“Thank you, Allie,” I said. “That leaves us plenty of time to talk. What were you saying about those pumpkins, Patty?”
Patty sneered at me.
“Crane bought out the whole supply weeks ago,” she said. “He was trying to sabotage his competitors...most of all me! Without my pumpkin hand pies, I wouldn’t even make enough to justify the trip out here.”
“How did you know it was him?”
“Oh, I noticed that he had these horribly pretentious pumpkin tarts on display. I knew he was too snobbish to use anything canned, so I figured it must have been him. I waited until he had closed up one night and followed him out of town. He led me straight to his stash. It was well-hidden, I’ll give him that.”
“Anyway,” she continued with a wicked grin, “I stole some of the pumpkins after he left and carved one of them into a jack-o-lantern. Like I said, I wanted to give him a good scare. I lured him out to the pumpkin patch that night and jumped out at him from the woods, making all sorts of racket. I wanted to see him shriek, but that fool went and lost his mind. He screamed and took off running, but he didn’t look where he was going. He tripped over a pumpkin vine and fell. He must have hit his head because by the time I got to him he was dead as a door nail.”
“It was an accident? Why didn’t you tell someone? Why make it look like a murder?”
“Manslaughter isn’t exactly good for business, sweetie.” Patty snorted. “And I wasn’t trying to make it look like a murder. I panicked and left without the jack-o-lantern.”
“Then the rumors started,” I said. “about the Capless Cavalier.”
“Very convenient for me,” Patty said with disturbing cheerfulness. “I knew I had to stay low and encourage the legend. I started spreading it to everyone I heard. And when I realized that I had to silence you before you put two and two together...”
“...You dressed up like the Cavalier again.”
Patty nodded and thrashed a bit, trying to shake us loose.
“I sharpened my carving knife,” she said breathlessly, “as a courtesy to you, Sam. It was supposed to be a nice, quick kill. But, for some odd reason, I couldn’t seem to make it past that hedge of yours.”
“How very strange,” I said. “So that’s why you left the jack-o-lantern head a second time...to fuel the rumors.”
Tessa and Mara were looking at Patty with open disgust.
“You’re a smart girl,” Patty cooed. “But not as smart as you think you are. You didn’t even think to check me for weapons!”
There was a flash of silver and Mara gasped, flinching away from Patty. She cried out in pain and clutched her side. A trickle of blood began to run between her fingers.
Chapter 25
I instinctively reached toward Mara, the icy chill of a healing spell already numbing my fingertips. Patty twisted and broke away from my grasp, barreling into Tessa. The two of them tumbled to the ground and a long, curved carving knife slipped from Patty’s hand, clattering onto the floor of the booth. Allie leapt forward and grabbed it before Patty could.
“Allie, run!” Tessa bellowed, struggling to hold an enraged Patty back. Allie shook her head and stood firm.
I pressed my hand against Mara’s side and hurriedly whispered the healing spell.
“Are you hurt anywhere else?” I asked, feeling her torso and arms for wounds.
“No,” she said softly, her voice strangely distant. Her eyes were closed and her mouth moved silently, forming unspoken words.
“Mara!” I clasped her face in my hands. Her eyelids flew open, revealing pale, pupil-less eyes. The acrid smell of black magic burned my nostrils.
“No, no, no!” I cried. “Come on, Mara, fight it!”
Mara’s mouth curved up into a smile and she began to whisper.
Rot and ruin, death and doom,
Dust and rust, worm and tomb...
“Whoa, whoa!” I shouted, clapping a hand over her mouth. “Nope. No black magic.”
I looked around wildly, searching for help. The tourists surrounding us were fixated on the parade, Tessa had her arms wrapped tightly around Patty’s legs, and Allie was staring at them like she wanted to intervene but wasn’t quite sure how. I caught sight of the handkerchief Mara had handed Patty earlier and recognized it as the one she had received from the Capless Cavalier.
“Allie! Get the handkerchief,” I cried, “The one on the counter!”
Allie spun around, snatched up the handkerchief, and ran over to me.
“What’s wrong with Mara?” she asked, looking genuinely frightened for the first time. “Is it her black magic infection?”
“The injury must have triggered something,” I said hurriedly. “Quick, wave that over your head!”
“Wave it over my head? Why?”
“Allie!”
“Alright, alright, sorry!” Allie thrust the handkerchief into the air and began waving it furiously.
Clip-clop clip-clop clip-clop
The noise of the crowd shifted abruptly from cheers to oohs and aahs as the Capless Cavalier materialized on Main Street.
“Yes, it is I!” he shouted, rearing his horse up. “Your Capless Cavalier! Though I am merely a trick of the light, one of your modern technological miracles, intended to delight and amuse!”
The crowd erupted into furious applause as the ghost of Charles Alexander Harrington the Third galloped over their heads and dismounted onto the counter of the Patty’s Pies booth.
“You summoned me, my lady?” he asked, bowing.
Allie gazed up at him, dumbfounded.
“Can you take her?” I asked him, still holding a hand over Mara’s mouth. “She is sick and may harm others. I’m going to put a sleep spell on her. I need you to get her somewhere safe.”
“Is my lady so afflicted?” Harrington gasped, rushing forward. “Ah, yes, I see it now. Though it does not mar her radiance—”
“—Can you do it?” I asked again, louder. Harrington set his jaw and nodded.
I whispered a sleep spell into Mara’s ear. Her eyes closed once more and she stopped speaking. Harrington caught her as her knees buckled and lifted her gently onto his horse.
“Thank you, Mister Harrington,” I said weakly. He bowed once more, mounted up, and galloped away, holding Mara steady. They vanished after a few seconds and the crowd went wild.
“Sam!” I heard Tessa shout. I looked over just in time to see Patty scrambling over the counter, a bruised and disheveled Tessa grasping vainly after her.
I started forward, but Patty was already gone, vanishing into the crowd. Tessa pulled herself up and looked around. One of her eyes was swollen shut and she sported a cut lip.
“Been a while since I got into a scrap,” she muttered, “not a great example for the kid. So...what’s the plan now?”
“We can’t use magic to snag her,” I said, “there are too many people around.”
“I could go into wild form,” Tessa suggested. “I’ll see if I can spot her from above. Allie, wait here for the Gallaghers. You’ll need to tell them where we’ve gone.”
Allie nodded.
“You need to transform somewhere out of sight,” I said.
“Say no more,” Tessa winked with her one good eye and ran off. A bright orange dragonfly zoomed past my head a few seconds later. It spiraled up into the sky, becoming no more than a shimmering speck above the crowd.
I followed it, shoving my way through the tourists and onto the edge of the sidewa
lk. Tessa the dragonfly hovered in place for a few seconds, then darted across Main Street and began flying in circles. I dashed out into the street, weaving between a float bearing the Goodsprings town council and a float that held a dozen dancers dressed as Capless Cavaliers. The crowd booed and the float drivers yelled angrily, but I ignored them, keeping my eyes fixed on the dragonfly.
I made it to the other side of the street and forced my way through the crowd until I was almost directly underneath Tessa the dragonfly’s circles. I stood on my tip-toes and craned my neck, trying to peer over the crowd, but there was no sign of Patty anywhere.
Tessa the dragonfly dove suddenly, dropping between two buildings. I followed her into an alley, arriving in just enough time to watch Patty Pearson climb into the driver’s seat of the Patty’s Pies truck.
The truck roared to life and came screeching down the alleyway. All I could do was fling myself out of the way as Patty drove toward Main Street, blaring the horn. The crowd scattered and the truck swerved onto Main Street, forcing the Rotary Club float to a sudden stop.
Tessa the dragonfly zoomed away, following the truck as it careened down Main Street, swerving between floats.
Broop-broop!
I turned to the source of the siren sound and saw the police cruiser a little way up the road. Its lights were flashing and it was stuck between two enormous floats. They were being outpaced by the local juggling club, which walked alongside the floats, tossing chainsaws, cleavers, and flaming torches into the air. Not to be outdone, The Good Guys motorcycle club pulled ahead of them on bikes adorned with string lights and pom-poms, performing wheelies and other stunts to the delight of the onlookers.
I looked frantically between the trapped police cruiser and the speeding Patty’s Pies truck, which was starting to disappear down Main Street. The police would never make it in time to catch Patty before she made it to the freeway. I had to do something...fast.
“David!” I shouted, running out into the street in front of the oncoming motorcycles. I waved my arms wildly and hopped up and down, trying to get their attention. A few of The Good Guys swerved to avoid me, but one skidded to a stop a few feet in front of me.
A Pumpkin Potion Explosion Page 9
