“Please, tell me exactly what you saw, ma’am,” he said. “Leave nothing out.”
She told him about the attack, explaining how she had seen the mummy run alongside the path out of the corner of her eye, pick up a prop, and stab Mark through the chest with it. When she got to the part about the tractor rolling past, he began to look skeptical.
“You didn’t actually see a second person dressed as a mummy?” She shook her head. “So what you saw was one person dressed as a mummy attack Mr. Perry, and a few seconds after that, the trailer passed, and there was still only one mummy, now kneeling by Mr. Perry?”
Lilah nodded slowly. She knew where he was going with this. There was no proof that there had been two mummies. And if there had only been one person dressed as a mummy near Mark Perry when he was killed, and that person was Val… that would make Val the killer.
“I see.” Eldridge glanced over his shoulder at where the hysterical woman in half a mummy costume was huddled in a blanket. “Was Mr. Perry alive when you approached them?”
“No,” Lilah said, feeling slightly sick as she said it. No, he was already gone. How could it take only seconds for a living person to become a dead body? It seemed impossible, but it was all-too real.
“Did you touch the body, or anything in the immediate area?”
“No. Well, I might have touched the fog machine a few minutes before, I don’t remember. And I dropped a stick.”
“Who reported the broken fog machine?”
“I did,” she said, the sick feeling growing stronger. “If I hadn’t called it in, then Mark wouldn’t have come out to refill it. And he’d still be alive.”
“Did you see anyone interfere with the fog machine earlier this evening?”
“No.”
It went on like that for a few minutes more, him questioning her about seemingly small things, and her answering as best she could while her mind wandered between thoughts of Val, and wondering what she could have done differently. She had frozen when she saw the mummy attack. Yet another reason his death was all her fault; if she had managed to get a warning out, he might have been able to defend himself. She had let a man die through inaction. As far as she was concerned, that was almost as bad as if she had killed him herself.
She waited for Val after that, not wanting to leave without saying something to her friend, making sure she was okay. No one had told her that she had to leave, so she hung around the periphery, watching what seemed like the entire Vista police department spread out through the woods in search of the second mummy. Val’s questioning seemed to take a lot longer than hers, and she was beginning to get concerned that her friend was going to be arrested on the spot. In fact, she was certain that Officer Eldridge was reaching for his handcuffs just as a call came in on the police radios. She was close enough to Officer Jenson, the woman that had fetched a blanket for Val, to hear what was said.
“We found a costume in the woods. Looks like it was supposed to be a mummy. Possible bloodstains on one arm. No sign of the perp.”
Lilah felt a rush of relief. She tried to tell herself it was just because she was glad that her friend was free, but couldn’t deny that a small part of her had suspected that the killer could have been Val. Not because she thought her friend was a killer, but because Eldridge was right; she had never actually seen a second mummy approach Mark.
The officer nodded to Val, and the woman left hurriedly, heading directly towards Lilah. She wrapped her arms around her friend, then pulled back.
“This is so horrible,” Val said. “I can’t even process it right now. I feel like I’m sleepwalking. Who could have done something like this?”
“Don’t you know who was in the other mummy costume?” Lilah asked. “I’m sure the police will be able to find them.”
“That’s the thing… I have no idea who it was. The people who normally play the mummies are an older married couple, and they both called in sick tonight. Mark had to scurry to find replacements. I offered to do it, but the other mummy got here late, and we didn’t talk at all since the event had already opened. It could have been anyone. All I know is it was someone a little bit taller than me. I honestly couldn’t even tell you if it was a man or a woman. I was too focused on the job to notice.”
“That’s scary,” Lilah said with a shudder. “It could literally have been anyone. Do you know if anyone around the farm had an issue with Mark?” Even as she said the words, she realized that she knew someone who had been very angry with the farm manager just a few hours before; Don, the person who had been planning to buy some of the equipment from the haunted hayride.
“I don’t know,” her friend said. “I don’t even want to think about it right now. I’m sure I’ll be okay to talk about all of this later, but right now I just want to go home and take a long shower. I think some of his blood soaked through my shirt. I can feel it on my skin, Lilah.”
“You shouldn’t be driving, Val. I’ll take you home in Margie’s car. We can get yours tomorrow.” Lilah was shaken, too, but her friend was the one who had held the man during his last breaths. She couldn’t even imagine what that had been like.
Her friend nodded and the two women walked away from the flashing lights of the police cars, both of them full of guilt at the thought that they had been witness to a murder — and had done nothing to stop it.
CHAPTER EIGHT
* * *
“Thanks for coming over on such short notice, dear. I wouldn’t have asked, but I’m just in such a crunch to get these cookies made for the library’s next book sale. Mary-Lou was supposed to bring the snacks this time, but she’s ill. I probably shouldn’t have volunteered, but I know how much everyone enjoys fresh treats during the sale. It’s such a long day for all of the volunteers.”
“Don’t worry about it, Margie,” Lilah said as she walked into her friend’s house. “The farm is still shut down while the police comb the property for evidence, so I don’t have anything else to do tonight. I’m more than happy to spend the evening helping you bake cookies. I enjoy it.”
“Oh, that’s so nice of you to say. I promise you won’t leave empty-handed. I always make extra, so you should be able to take plenty home.”
“I may have to buy a third cookie jar if this keeps up,” she said with a laugh. “What type of cookies are we baking today?”
“I thought I’d do something fun and seasonal. My plan was voodoo doll gingerbread men. I’ve made the icing already. What do you think?”
“That sounds great,” Lilah said. “I bet people will love them. What should I do?”
“You can be on beater duty again if you want. I’ve already got the butter out; it should be soft enough by now. If you want to grab the beater and a mixing bowl out of the cupboard, I’ll measure out the brown sugar. Get a big bowl; we’re going to be making a double batch.”
Once the softened butter and brown sugar had been mixed together, Margie spooned in a few dollops of molasses and a couple of eggs while Lilah continued to man the beater. After that came the dry ingredients and the spices, and in no time at all, they had a bowl full of brown cookie dough that smelled strongly of nutmeg and ginger.
“We’ll chill it for a little bit, then roll it out and cut shapes,” her friend said. “In the meantime, I thought we could put up some decorations. I’ve accumulated quite a few boxes of them over the years, so if you want to take any over to your own house, be my guest.”
“Thanks,” Lilah said. “I might take you up on that. Maybe it would get me back in the holiday spirit.”
“The whole town has been subdued since the murder,” Margie said. She gave a sigh. “Poor Mark. And I feel so bad for his wife. They’ve been managing that farm for years. I can hardly believe that something so horrible happened there.”
“I can barely believe it myself, and I saw it. I can’t imagine what Mrs. Perry must be going through.” Lilah frowned, then shook herself, trying to snap out of the glum mood. She had spent all day the day before mop
ing about her house, too lost in her guilt to do anything productive. “Let’s start decorating. I need something else to focus on, something besides death.”
She soon realized the irony of her words; the very first item that she pulled out of the closest tote was a foam gravestone. She snorted and tossed it back, reaching instead for a giant spider with bendable legs. Margie pulled a long string of orange and black lantern lights out of a second container and began stringing them up along the top of the cupboards. The two women worked in companionable silence for a good half-hour until the kitchen timer beeped.
“We should be able to roll the dough out pretty well by now,” Margie said. “Chilled dough always holds its shape best.”
“I know — I found that out the hard way,” Lilah sad. “When I made those sugar cookies and tried to roll it out at room temperature — it was a mess.”
Her friend chuckled. “It sounds like you’ve been doing a good amount of experimenting on your own. You probably could have made these gingerbread men by yourself, and I bet they would have turned out just as well as if I made them.”
“I doubt it,” Lilah said, wrinkling her nose. The memory of her disastrous first attempt at cookie making on her own still stung. She had learned a valuable lesson about why it was important to follow the recipe, and not just throw ingredients into a bowl and hope for the best.
“I’m serious, Lilah,” Margie said as she pulled the bowl of chilled dough out of the freezer. “You’re good at this. You just need more confidence. You should consider setting up a table at the Granger Farm when they reopen. I used to set one up every year, but I’ve just been too busy this year to do anything but bring the meringues on opening day. I’m sure they would love to have someone else sell cookies there.”
“Really?” Lilah turned the idea over in her mind. She still wasn’t completely convinced that she had what it took to make cookies for the public, let alone ask people to pay their hard-earned money for them. On the other hand, she trusted Margie’s judgement. The older woman knew her baked goods, that was for sure. Maybe it was a good idea. She doubted the corn maze and haunted hayride would reopen any time soon, that is if they reopened at all this year. She could use the extra money, and she had already planned on having all of her evenings be taken up by work at the farm. Even if no one bought any cookies from her, she wouldn’t be out more than the cost of the ingredients and whatever the cost of setting up a table was.
“You know what, maybe I’ll give it a try,” she said.
“Great. I’m glad to hear it,” Margie said. “Now, grab a rolling pin and help me cut out these gingerbread men.”
Within twenty minutes, the warm kitchen was filled with the scent of baking ginger cookies. The first batch came out of the oven absolutely perfect. Lilah smiled at the sight of the little cookie men lined up on the baking tray. They looked like something she might see in a magazine. Once again, she was surprised by just how easy it was to make them — and how many a single batch of dough could produce. They even tasted better than store-bought cookies, and were probably healthier, though she had never bothered to figure out exactly how many calories were in one of her homemade sugar cookies.
Margie hadn’t been exaggerating when she said that she wanted to make a lot of cookies. It was hard work, and it was well into nighttime when they finally finished frosting the last tray. Lilah sat down heavily at the kitchen table, exhausted. She didn’t mind, though. At least it took her mind off of Mark’s death, and she would probably sleep like a log that night.
“Thanks so much for your help, dear,” Margie said. She was puttering around the kitchen, still powered by her seemingly inexhaustible supply of energy. “How many should I pack up for you?”
“Oh, just a few. I really shouldn’t be eating so many cookies. Maybe I can stop by the boutique tomorrow after my shift at the diner and give some to Val.”
“I’ll give you extra, then. From what you’ve told me, that woman could use some cheering up.”
A few minutes later, Lilah walked out the front door with a large container full of cookies in her arms. She knew that she would never be able to eat them all, but was more than happy to have the chance to share them with her friends. The long evening of baking had helped her to feel better — maybe eating the cookies would somehow have a similar effect on her best friend.
CHAPTER NINE
* * *
The farm was finally open for business again, though the haunted corn maze and hayride were still temporarily shut down while the police questioned the rest of the employees. Lilah wasn’t sure that it was a good idea to reopen either attraction this year. After all, the killer still hadn’t been caught. For all she knew, the person who had killed Mark could still be on the farm somewhere.
Those were her thoughts as she parked Margie’s car in the nearly empty lot an hour after her shift at the diner. She looked around, not feeling very encouraged by what she saw. It was a foggy afternoon, with a light, intermittent rain, and as a result, most people had opted to stay indoors for the day rather than visit the farm. Lilah was a firm believer of safety in numbers, and wasn’t at all comfortable at the thought of being one the only people on the Granger Farm that day. If the killer was going to strike again, this gloomy day seemed like the perfect setting.
Deciding that it would be best to get in and out as quickly as she could, Lilah hurried the short distance from her car to the overhang at the entrance of the little farm shop and reached for the door. A grimace crossed her face when she saw the sign; Out for lunch! She glanced at her phone. It was nearly one. Surely whoever was on staff today would be back by then? She didn’t want to leave and come back later; all she had to do was grab her first paycheck. It wouldn’t take more than a few seconds. Though, if Mrs. Perry was there, she might broach the subject of setting up a small table to sell some cookies on. She was in love with the idea that she and Margie had discussed a couple of days ago. In fact, she had liked it so much that she had spent her extra time trying out a few more recipes. Now her freezer was stuffed with chocolate chip cookies, apple cider cookies, and even a few different flavors of no-bake cookies. Now all she had to do was secure a table at the farm’s market to sell them.
Lilah quickly got tired of standing by the door. She eyed the bench — the same one she had sat on with Reid the day of the murder, in fact — critically, trying to decide if it was worth the wet seat of her pants that she would get if she sat down. She decided it wasn’t; she might as well just go and sit in the car, where at least she’d be dry.
Just as she was turning, she heard the wet squelch of footsteps coming from around the corner of the farm shop. She turned, expecting to see Mrs. Perry approaching, but instead saw a woman about her own age that she didn’t recognize. It took her a moment to realize that the woman was crying — at first she mistook the tears for rain, but the woman’s red-rimmed eyes and her shuddering breaths soon made it clear that she was suffering.
“Are you okay?” Lilah asked hesitantly, not certain whether the proper course of action was to try to console the woman, or offer her a shoulder to cry on.
“I’m just —” the woman sniffed. “Just reliving memories. I’m sorry. I know I’m a mess. I thought today would be a good day to visit. The rain, you know, I didn’t think anybody would be here.”
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have to pick up my check,” Lilah told her. “It really is a pretty terrible day to be wandering around the farm.” She felt awkward, and at a loss for words. What in the world was there to be said to this crying stranger?
“Yeah.” The woman sniffed again, then gave a small laugh. “I guess it was pretty dumb of me to come out here like this, huh? Now, not only am I crying, but I’m soaked through with rain, and I have to use the bathroom, but there aren’t any other guests so that horrible Mrs. Perry is sure to notice me when I go inside. And the last thing that I want is to run into her.”
Lilah blinked, certain that she had heard the woman wrong. Mrs
. Perry had never been anything but pleasant to her, and she couldn’t imagine the older woman even raising her voice at anybody.
“Wait a second,” the woman said suddenly. “Did you say you work here?”
“I started a couple of weeks ago,” Lilah told her, glad for the change in subject. “I’m just here seasonally, so I don’t have a key or anything, sorry.”
The woman followed her gaze to the locked shop door. “Oh, no, I was actually wondering for a different reason. I’m Gabrielle Ackers, Gabby if you’d like. I’m… I was a friend of Mark’s. I was wondering if you were there. You know, the night that he died.”
“Lilah Fallon. Nice to meet you,” she said automatically. “And yeah, I was there.” She didn’t say anything more, hoping the woman would let it drop.
“Did you… see anything?” Gabby asked.
Killer Halloween Cookies: Book 2 in The Killer Cookie Cozy Mysteries Page 4
