In fact, Bert was downright surprised about how much she’d loved the date, especially considering she hadn’t gone out with anyone since her husband had passed.
That was one example of something she hadn’t told Carla about. While she had described the events of the evening to her best friend, she’d left out the fact that Mannor had given her a hug at the end of the night. The embrace had been surprisingly warm for a man who was usually so gruff and cold.
“Don’t you worry. I won’t make you watch any goofy old movies.”
“Thank heavens for that.” Carla sipped her coffee with a satisfied smile.
“Man, something smells divine in here,” a low, booming voice echoed through the shop as the front door rang once again.
Speak of the devil, Bert thought to herself as she watched Detective Mannor enter the room.
“Detective, I haven’t seen you since just before Christmas. How are you?” Carla asked, standing up.
“I’m doing very well, thank you,” he smiled.
Bert felt her heart do a little backflip as she watched him flash his pearly white teeth. What was he here for this morning? Somehow, she felt like he was up to something.
“Don’t get your hopes up about eating the pie you’re smelling. It’s not ready,” Shiv chimed in.
“That’s quite alright. I didn’t come here to eat pie. I actually have to get back to the station for a meeting.”
“Oh? What can we do for you then, Detective?” Bert asked, hoping that another murder hadn’t happened in the city. Somehow, based on Mannor’s jolly demeanor, she doubted it.
“Actually, I came to ask you a question,” he replied.
Bert’s heart did another gymnastic flounce as she realized what was probably coming. Why did he have to do this right now in front of both Shiv and Carla? It was embarrassing.
Not to mention, she wasn’t sure yet if she wanted a second date with him. Yes, she had truly had a great time the week before. However, it felt odd going out with another man, still. Her late husband was still always present in the back of her mind—his smile, his laugh, his laid-back approach to life.
Clearing her throat, she nodded for the detective to present his question.
“Well, you see, as is the tradition, the mayor is holding a New Year’s Eve party again. As the lead detective in the homicide division, I’m always expected to be there.”
“And you want her to go with you,” Carla exclaimed, a little too joyously, and clapping her hands.
A twitch of irritation appeared at the corner of the detective’s lips. He clearly didn’t like being interrupted, especially since he’d probably planned out carefully what he wanted to say. Not taking his eyes off Bert, he continued. “This year it is going to be a masquerade, and I was hoping you’d be willing to go with me.”
There was a pause as the air filled with an awkward silence that seemed to make Bert’s mouth dry. She knew that Carla would give her trouble if she didn’t say yes. “Unfortunately, I just made plans for that evening,” she admitted truthfully, hoping that would satisfy both Mannor and her best friend.
“Oh, fiddlesticks, Bert. Us hanging around your cottage and eating pie is hardly a real plan. Shiv and I can entertain ourselves for the evening.”
Shiv nodded her head in agreement. “It’s true. We can figure something else out.”
Bert realized her jaw was hanging open. Her whole crew had abandoned ship, leaving her with no other excuse. Finally, letting out a long sigh, she put on a big smile. “All right, Detective. I’d be happy to go with you.”
“Fantastic,” he clasped his hands. “If you need an outfit for the occasion, I know of a great little costume shop.”
Bert realized just how strange that last sentence sounded coming out of the tall, scruffy-faced policeman. It was downright silly. “Thanks.”
“If you want to coordinate outfits, we can even go looking together.”
Bert gritted her teeth, realizing she’d basically just signed up on a two for one deal for dates. “Actually, I think Carla would love to help me pick something out.”
“No, no. I think coordinating costumes would be awesome!” Carla exclaimed, not taking the hint. There was no getting out of this.
Bert realized she was going costume shopping with the city’s number one detective. Forcing her smile to widen, she agreed. “Okay.”
“Great, I can pick you up tonight around seven?”
“Sure.”
Heading for the door, he opened it to the chilly winter morning outside. “Oh, and by the way, don’t forget to call me Harry.” He flipped up the collar of his brown trench coat before disappearing into the snow.
CHAPTER 2
* * *
“Ugh, this feels more like Halloween than New Year’s Eve,” Bert grumbled as she wandered the quiet and dimly lit rows of Madame William’s Costume Boutique. The red and white sign on the front window had stated that they did rentals for parties, masquerade, theater productions, Halloween, and more. It even listed a series of names and events they had supposedly serviced in the past. However, despite the supposed diverse clientele and options, the place had a musty smell that made Bert believe no one had stepped in the front door since October.
She and Detective Mannor appeared to be the only two in the shop that snowy evening, and Bert had to admit that the place was a little eerie. It reminded her of a scene from an old sci-fi horror movie about an after-hours crew at a toy shop who was stalked by an alien who’d arrived on earth via a stray asteroid.
She had to admit, it felt weird being there.
Picking out costumes with the detective just seemed so strange. It wasn’t like they were a serious couple or anything. Sighing inwardly so he wouldn’t hear, she had to ask herself how she got into this situation.
Why hadn’t she just said no?
“How does this look?” Mannor asked, breaking her train of thought. He was holding up a pair of costumes for her to examine. One was a long black sequin dress with a matching cat mask. The other was a men’s black tuxedo with a sleek wolf mask.
Bert had to admit, they looked nice, but they just didn’t seem right. She loved animals, but this pairing was almost a little too weird. “Maybe something else,” she sighed, shaking her head.
The smile he was wearing fell and his shoulder’s slumped. “That’s the third set you’ve turned down.”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry,” she apologized. She knew she should be helping him look for a good costume duo instead of letting him flounder. It seemed like he was just sort of picking things up at random and seeing what she thought. More than likely, she realized, he’d brought her along specifically to help pick the costumes. Maybe he assumed she had some sort of inherent “fashion intuition” that he was lacking.
Bert, on the other hand, had never been much for picking out fancy outfits.
Sliding the costumes back onto the rack, he placed his hands on his hips and breathed heavily. “Why do I get the feeling that you don’t actually want to be here?”
Bert wanted to argue, to comfort him and say he was wrong, but her breathing caught in her throat and her mouth hung open in suspension of words. “I’m sorry,” was all she managed to squeak out, feeling like a foolish teenager all over again.
“You could have just said you weren’t interested in going with me to the party,” he scolded her, furrowing his brow and pressing his lips together.
“I do want to go,” she argued, knowing it was only a partial truth. While she had to admit, a real New Year’s Eve party sounded like it could be interesting, even fun, she was having a real hard time getting over her reservations around dating.
She still felt very attached to her husband, which made it difficult to even consider liking someone else. Additionally, this was Harold Mannor she was dealing with—the gruff, tough, police detective who didn’t take flak from anyone.
And yet, he had this strange gentleness behind all the grit that had caught Bert off guard. She ha
ted to say it, but it was this element that attracted her to him.
She realized, deep down, that was why she’d said yes.
“I swear, I do really want to go with you,” she reiterated after seeing the pinch of doubt in the corner of his eyes.
For a moment, his mouth remained stiff and his eyes cold and flat as if he still refused to believe her.
“I mean it. I guess I’m just a little stressed about attending a high-class party, you know?” she offered, attempting to defuse the situation a little more. It was partially true, after all. She’d only ever attended parties at her church, never anything ritzy.
Thankfully, the detective’s features finally softened. A low chuckle escaped his throat. “Okay, but I can tell you now, this isn’t anything high class. It’s just a bunch of people standing around pretending they like each other.”
“Sounds high class to me,” she joked.
Smiling down at her, he nodded. “You’re probably right.” Turning back to the rack of clothing, he continued the process of scanning through the items available to rent. Bert followed along behind him, also eyeing the items. “Let me know if you see anything that looks interesting, or you’d be willing to wear,” he said. He was grasping at straws at this point.
“Maybe we’re just looking in the wrong section,” she suggested, looking up at the sign above them that read: Masquerade – Traditional.
“If you want to browse around in different parts of the store, please feel free. If you can find something you like, it’ll take a load off my shoulders.”
Snapping her finger, she gave him a playful wink. “On it.”
Wandering down the aisle, she looked at the signs to see if there was anything that caught her attention. She paused at the section labeled as Masquerade – Modern and decided it was worth a look. Maybe there would be something newer that was more interesting to her.
Pushing on between the costumes, she heard the muffled noise of someone laughing. Shifting silently along the carpeted floor, Bert came to stand near where the voices were loudest, coming from just the opposite side of the aisle she was on.
It sounded like a woman and a man talking. Something about the woman’s voice sounded familiar.
Her strong alto tones were like something you might hear on the radio or TV.
Curiosity took over and Bert moved in close to the rack, gently pushing the costumes aside and peering through to the opposite side. The instant she spotted the sight of who the woman was, she had to force herself to not gasp from sheer surprise.
The city’s mayor was there in the shadows of the shop, holding up a costume with a judging eye upon it but a smile upon her lips.
While initially surprised, Bert quickly remembered that the masquerade party was being thrown by the mayor herself—at her large penthouse, nonetheless. So, it was no real shock that she too would be there trying to select an outfit for the party.
What was more confusing was the man standing next to her. Bert didn’t recognize him, and she was nearly certain it wasn’t the mayor’s husband.
No, whoever this man next to her was, he was too young to be her husband. His dark hair was well-trimmed and slicked evenly back. Accompanying his naturally colored hair, he wore a black suit which was tailored perfectly to his body. Despite his baby face, he exuded a power of confidence and authority—partially thanks to his towering height. He had to be at least six feet tall if not taller.
Who was he?
“How about this one, ma’am?” he asked, holding up a light pink outfit with gold trim.
Putting her own selection back on the rack, she took hold of the one in front of her. “My, this one is just perfect.”
“I thought you’d say so,” the young man gushed proudly, giving an almost wicked half-smile.
“This is why I keep you around. You always know how to pick out the perfect outfit for the perfect occasion,” she praised him, reaching out with a manicured hand and gently giving his broad shoulder a loving squeeze.
This time, Bert really did let out a gasp but managed to keep it quiet enough that they hadn’t heard. If she didn’t know any better, she’d guess that the mayor of Culver’s Hood was having an affair with this young man.
However, if that were true, why would she be out in a public place like this with him.
Bert glanced around and realized that the quiet shop wasn’t exactly overly populated at the moment. Additionally, the mayor was a very careful and calculated woman—as Bert had seen firsthand by some of the woman’s earlier exploits.
Only the month prior, during Thanksgiving, the mayor had been making a push to rid the city of any homeless people. However, after a few mysterious deaths happened on the streets of their small midwestern city, the mayor had changed her tune. In place of her original argument, she acted like she’d been trying to help the homeless all along and started feeding more into the soup kitchens, safe houses, women’s shelters, and other programs that so many people relied on.
While Bert had been grateful for the turnaround, she couldn’t help but feel like it was a little two-faced.
However, who was she to make a judgment? She didn’t know the mayor personally, and perhaps she was a good woman who only tried to do what was best.
Still, as she eyed the older woman and the young man together, she couldn’t help but get a sick knot in her stomach. Something was off about this whole situation, she just couldn’t decide what.
“So, what are we going to do about those letters? Have we figured out who is sending them yet?” the mayor asked, the tone of her voice changing and her volume dropping considerably.
Bert had to lean in farther, putting her face between two costumes, just to hear what was going on.
“I’m working on it, ma’am. You have no need to worry.”
Eyeing the mayor, Bert saw the joy on her face melting slightly.
“That isn’t good enough. I want this person found and silenced. I can’t have some random person stalking my every move.”
Stalking? Good heavens, did the mayor have an overzealous admirer? Maybe they weren’t an admirer but someone who disliked her political methods. If so, what was the mayor doing out in a little downtown shop so late at night? If there was any kind of threat, a public figure like her should be inside.
Bert could only wonder.
“I told you. It’s all under control. Don’t you worry.”
“I wish I could,” she sighed.
What were they talking about, Bert continued to wonder. What had she meant by letters? Perhaps he was a bodyguard or private eye?
Bert’s mind was spinning with a million possibilities. She was so deep in thought that she didn’t hear anyone creeping up next to her.
“What do you think of this?”
Bert nearly jumped a foot high as the gruff voice echoed behind her. Spinning around, she gripped her own chest, attempting to calm her beating heart, as Detective Mannor held up two metallic looking outfits for her to examine.
“Oh, hello? Is someone over there?” came a voice from the next aisle.
“They look fantastic. Let’s go,” Bert insisted, pushing her date toward the checkout counter as fast as she could. The last thing she wanted was to get caught eavesdropping on the mayor.
“You hardly got a look at it,” he argued.
“It looks perfect,” she insisted, forcing him to move. “I’m sure we will look great tomorrow night.”
Bert and Mannor were fast enough to duck out of sight just before the mayor poked her head out around the aisle to see who was there.
CHAPTER 3
* * *
Luckily for Bert, the costume truly was perfect. Standing in her bedroom at home, she stood in awe of the outfit she’d so haphazardly settled on—and which Detective Mannor had picked out, nonetheless.
The dress itself was made of a shimmering bronze cloth that seemed to just flow so naturally around Bert’s body. The chest and shoulders were covered with a metallic plating that looked r
obotic in nature, with all sorts of gears, wheels, and more attached in a decorative pattern. Spikes came up out of the shoulder pads in a flamboyant manner.
To top off the whole thing was a bronze half-mask with a few silver gears and wheels inlaid into it. Finally, the mask had a set of what appeared to be welder’s goggles over the eyes.
The whole thing had an almost Victorian style about it but with a modern twist.
She felt like the queen of the ball in the outfit and was loving it. She wasn’t sure they would have been able to find a better costume if they’d tried. It had a similar flair and feeling to her own Halloween costume from that same year.
A knock on the door interrupted her private fashion show, and she walked into the living room to answer it. Unlocking the latch, she opened the door to reveal Detective Mannor standing outside.
Bert couldn’t help herself and gasped out loud at the display before her. The usual gruff man wore a matching bronze suit with a similarly fitted silver breastplate of gears. He already had his mask on, and it was like a gallant accent to his face. Two pipes that looked like exhaust ports stuck up like horns from the top. His strong, bearded jaw looked even more squared coming out of the bottom of the covering.
At the same time she was admiring him (and specifically at how well he was able to dress up) he was standing in awe of her with his mouth hanging partially open.
“You look . . . amazing,” he whispered.
Bert was glad the blush in her cheeks was mostly hidden by the mask. It had been a good long time since a man had paid her a compliment. “Well, shall we?” she asked, trying to defuse the tension that hung in the air between them.
Grabbing her wool wrap and her purse, she stepped out the door and locked it behind herself. Heading for the car, Mannor never stopped admiring her.
* * *
Parking in downtown Culver’s Hood turned out to be far more of a challenge than either Mannor or Bert had expected. The usual parking garages were stuffed full, leaving only tight-packed on-street parking as their option. People mulled all about the sidewalks, making it hard to navigate the web of usually peaceful streets, at least in comparison to the way activity was on New Year’s Eve. Couples and groups all headed to their favorite venues and bars to ring in the brand-new year in style.
Killer Caramel Pie Page 2
