by Kate Bell
The sky was overcast, and I hoped we wouldn’t get rain. I got out of my car and opened the back car door, picking up the large envelope of vintage inspired cardboard cutouts I was going to use to decorate my booth. I placed the envelope on the plastic wrapped tray of candy apples and put that on top of the two boxes of pumpkin hand pies I had made for the event. The scent of cinnamon and cloves wafted up to me as I lifted the two boxes, and I slammed the car door shut with my hip. Fall was my favorite season, hands down. I loved pumpkin everything and the fall foliage in Maine was breathtaking.
Diana Bowen’s green SUV was parked near the entrance. She owned the flower shop where my friend Lucy Gray worked, and she was the bazaar organizer. Diana was nice enough, but she was one of those people that talked all the time and commandeered conversations. Let’s just say, she got on my nerves occasionally.
I got to the door and reached for the knob, but the boxes were too wide. I tried to maneuver them so I could get to the knob, but that didn’t work. Then I kicked the door with one boot-clad foot and immediately did the ouchy wowie dance. Bad idea. I waited a minute to see if anyone would come to my rescue.
“I guess I have to do this myself,” I muttered and set the boxes down gingerly on the concrete.
Opening the door, I placed my hip against it and bent to pick up the boxes. “There we go,” I said to myself and headed into the empty hall.
I smiled. There were bales of yellow straw and piles of pumpkins strategically placed around the hall. In one corner there was a painted wooden cutout of great big pumpkins and a scarecrow with a hole cut around the face so people could stick their heads through it and have their pictures taken. Red, gold, and orange fall leaves were scattered on the tabletops. Black and orange streamers hung from the ceiling and there was a helium tank with bunches of black and orange balloons attached to it. A pile of unfilled balloons sat on the table next to the tank. Simple, festive, and sweet.
The walls were lined with booths draped in alternating orange and black plastic tablecloths with enough streamers to decorate each one lying on top, ready for the booth’s occupant to get to work decorating.
I had requested the booth near the front of the stage. The booth next to it was filled with fall flowers and trinkets that Diana sold in her shop, so I knew she had been busy. But where was she now?
The boxes were getting heavy and my arms were beginning to ache, so I headed to my booth and set them down on the table. Picking up my streamers, I dug in my purse for the tape I had brought along. Humming made me happy, and since I was alone, I indulged myself. Lucy said it was annoying, but what did she know?
The steamers were cute as could be after I had them lightly twisted and draped around the top and front of the booth. I stood back to make sure they were draped evenly. I smiled, satisfied with my work.
Next, I picked up the envelope of cutouts and worked on putting them on the front of the booth. The cutouts gave me a warm feeling, reminding me of my childhood when I went trick or treating back in Alabama. Kittens, ghosts, and a little witch with some pumpkins scampered about. It only took a few minutes, and I was done. I stepped back again and surveyed my work. The cutouts were adorable, and I decided I was going to have the cutest booth at the bazaar.
With that done, I went around to the back of the booth and stepped through the opening that served as a door, and stopped. Someone was lying under the table of my booth. My first thought was, well, that’s an odd place to take a nap. Then I realized it was Diana. Her back was toward me, so I couldn’t see her face, but I recognized her teased and dyed blond and brunette striped hair.
With my heart pounding in my chest, I whispered, “Diana?” She didn’t make a move.
I looked around to see if there was anyone else in the hall. Where was the owner of the second car?
I turned back to Diana. “Diana?” I said louder.
She still didn’t move. I felt in my pocket for my phone and pulled it out. Diana was lying very still. Maybe she had fallen? Or had a heart attack?
I took three steps toward her. She still didn’t move, and I was getting a serious case of the heebie jeebies. I knelt down and stretched my arm toward her, but I wasn’t close enough. I scooted forward on my knees a few inches until I could touch the back of her neck. Her skin was cold as ice.
I jumped up and backpedaled until I was out the opening of the booth. My heart pounded in my chest, and I took a deep breath. “Oh, my gosh,” I whispered. “Diana.”
I dialed 911 and told the operator I thought there was a dead person at the Methodist Church recreation hall.
After taking my information, she asked, “Did you check for a pulse?”
“A pulse? No, she’s really cold. I don’t think there’s a pulse,” I said, biting my lip and keeping an eye on Diana. I didn’t want her to suddenly change her mind about being dead.
“Is she breathing?” the operator asked.
“No. She’s dead,” I said, trying to keep my voice from cracking. My mind was churning and I really just wanted someone to show up and handle things.
“Are you certain?” she asked.
“Listen, lady, the only thing I’m certain of is that today is Saturday. Can you please send an ambulance? Or a policeman?” I said. I tried not to sound rude, but I didn’t want to touch Diana again and since she still hadn’t made a move or a sound, I was pretty sure she was still dead.
The operator sighed loudly. “Fine, I’ll send the police and an ambulance. Don’t you move. You wait right there for them,” she ordered.
“Fine, I’ll be right here,” I said and clicked my phone off before she could say anything else.
Poor Diana, I thought.
I backed farther away from her body and shivered. I looked around at the still empty room. Why did I have to be the one that found her? Couldn’t there have at least been another witness somewhere nearby?
I wandered over to Diana’s booth and took a look inside for something to do to keep from having to look at her body. Diana had the prettiest nick-knacks at her flower shop. She had brought several fresh flower arrangements for the raffle that would happen later that evening. If the bazaar was still on.
Oh no, what if they canceled the Halloween bazaar?
Diana had put so much work into the bazaar. We were going to raise money to fund the community Thanksgiving dinner and buy coats for less fortunate children next month. It would be a shame if it were canceled. There was a bowl of candy corn in Diana’s booth and the scent of cinnamon hung in the air. I stepped all the way inside and kicked something.
What was that?
I knelt down and reached under the table, pulling out a half-eaten candy apple. It was one of those cheap candy apples from the grocery store with the super sweet red coating and finely chopped peanuts on it. I tossed it back on the floor. The red sticky coating had melted in the warmth of the room. I reached for a tissue from the box on Diana’s table and wiped my fingers. Gross.
I ran around to the front of my booth and reached into my purse for hand sanitizer and squirted it onto my hands. Sirens filled the air, and I looked toward the door. Thank goodness.
Before anyone entered the building, I texted Lucy and told her to get over here stat. She would be devastated. She had been close to Diana.
I heard the hall door swing open, and I turned around. Ellen Allen. Her green hair had been teased to stand on end and her nose ring twinkled under the lights of the recreation hall. It wasn’t a Halloween costume. Ellen always looked like that.
“Hey, Allie, I brought some cookies my mom baked for the bazaar. That witch Diana isn’t around is she? I don’t want to run into her,” she said and strode toward me with a huge platter of cookies stretched out toward me. She took long strides as she walked. Ellen was just over six feet tall and she could cover some ground when she needed to.
I bit my bottom lip. Ellen had been fired by Diana a month earlier. Lucy told me it was because Diana had caught her stealing from the cash register. She
would make a good murder suspect if foul play was involved in Diana’s death.
“Ellen? I have some really bad news,” I said.
“Do you hear all those sirens? Sounds like they’re getting closer,” she said, furrowing her eyebrows. She set the platter of cookies on my booth. “What bad news?”
“Diana’s dead,” I said as the sirens got louder.
Her eyebrows flew up, and I noticed a tiny diamond stud on the end of one of them. “What?”
“Dead. Diana’s dead,” I said. We both turned toward the door as the sirens stopped outside the building.
She turned back toward me. “Stop foolin’ with me. I don’t want to run into her, so I have to get going.”
“I’m serious,” I said and pointed over the side of my booth.
“Huh?” she said and leaned over the side to look. She was tall enough to see Diana without going around to the booth entrance in back. “Wow. So she is.”
She looked at me with just a hint of a smile on her lips.
The hall door opened and police officers Yancey Tucker and George Feeney walked through it.
“We heard there was a body?” Yancey asked.
“Yes, right over here,” I said, pointing to the general area where Diana was lying.
Yancey stepped around the booth to the backside. He went into the booth and squatted down next to Diana’s body.
I glanced over at Ellen.
“Tragic,” she said with a smirk.
It was my turn for my eyebrows to fly up. I didn’t expect her to cry about it, but I thought she might show at least a little concern for Diana or her family.
“Hey, Allie?” George asked as he peered over the side of my booth and watched Yancey.
“Yes, George?”
“Didn’t you discover Henry Hoffer’s body last month?” he asked, looking at me.
“Uh, yeah, I guess I did,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him. He had better not get any ideas about me being involved.
He stared at me without saying another word. I suddenly wanted to run away from that place. I felt bad about Diana, but I didn’t want to be a suspect again. The stress of it all was more than I could take. Ellen smirked at my obvious discomfort.
The hall door opened again and Detective Alec Blanchard walked through it, taking long strides across the room. His mouth formed a hard line when he caught sight of me.
“Allie,” he said, nodding. He glanced at Ellen and then turned back to me.
I pointed over the side of my booth and he leaned over just as Yancey popped up from his position on the floor. Detective Blanchard nearly jumped out of his skin and barely managed to suppress a girl-like scream.
Ellen giggled and turned away. I’d like to say I didn’t laugh a little, but it would be a lie.
The detective straightened his tie and ignored us. He cleared his throat and looked at Yancey pointedly.
“Uh, sorry. Yeah, she’s dead. No pulse, and her body’s cold.”
I could hear an ambulance with its siren blaring arrive.
“So, Allie, do you make it a habit of discovering dead bodies?” Detective Blanchard asked me, tilting his head.
“No,” I said and shook my head. I had hoped we had developed enough familiarity after the last murder for him to not assume I might have had something to do with this one. I had bought him breakfast and made him an apple sour cream pie as thanks for saving my life after all. It looked like I might be wrong.
Chapter Two
The recreation hall door swung open and Lucy burst through it. “What did you want me down here for, Allie?” she called across the room and headed toward me.
I sighed. It would have been nice if she could have been a little more subtle. I didn’t need Detective Blanchard thinking I had asked Lucy to come down here to help me do something crazy. Like, hide the body. Thankfully, I was the one that had called 911, so maybe that would work in my favor.
“Ellen,” Lucy said, wrinkling up her nose and pulling up short when she spotted her.
“Lucy,” Ellen returned, with a curl of her lip.
“What’s she doing here?” Lucy whispered when she got to me.
I saw Ellen roll her eyes out of the corner of my eye.
“Diana’s dead,” Ellen supplied. Then she gave Lucy a Cheshire cat grin.
“What? What are you talking about?” Lucy asked, wide-eyed. She turned to me. “Allie, what is she saying? She’s lying, right?”
“I’m afraid not,” I said and put a hand on her shoulder.
“How do you know?” she asked with tears forming in her eyes.
“She’s in my booth,” I whispered.
“Here? But that’s impossible! I saw her this morning! What happened to her? Oh, I can’t bear to look!” she said and fell into my arms.
“I know, honey. I’m sorry,” I said and patted her back. Lucy had worked for Diana for nearly ten years and thought of her former boss as a sister.
She sobbed on my shoulder and I looked at Alec, who was taking this all in. I hoped he realized there was no way I would kill someone so dear to my best friend.
I caught Ellen rolling her eyes at Lucy again, and I wanted to kick her. She and Ellen had never gotten along and when Diana had caught Ellen stealing, Lucy completely washed her hands of her. I couldn’t blame her. Ellen was being so callous about Diana’s death that it certainly had me wondering just how much she disliked Diana.
Detective Blanchard turned to Ellen. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name?”
“That’s because I didn’t give it,” she said and gave him a blank look. She was treading on thin ice. This was the man that could put her in an orange jumpsuit for a very long time.
Alec narrowed his eyes at her and whipped out his trusty pen and notebook. “What is your name?”
“Ellen Allen,” she said, blandly.
“What? Ellen Ellen?” he asked, puzzled.
“No!” she responded and huffed air out through her mouth. “Ellen Allen,” she said putting emphasis on her last name.
Alec stared at her and I saw his jaw tighten. I didn’t think he liked Ellen much. That was fine because not many people did.
“Why don’t you come over to a nice quiet booth with me and answer some questions,” he said and led the way.
Surprisingly, Ellen followed without protest. That may have been a first for her.
Lucy pulled back and looked me in the eye. “How did she die? She wasn’t in pain, was she?” Her voice trembled when she said it. She had streaks of mascara running down her cheeks.
“Oh, I don’t think so, honey,” I said and watched her dig in her purse for a tissue. The truth was, I had no idea. I hadn’t looked at her close enough to see if I could tell how she had died. I hoped it wasn’t violently. Diana may have been a big mouth, but she was a nice person.
A vision of Henry Hoffer lying on his restaurant kitchen floor with a knife in his chest flashed in front of my eyes. I shuddered. Why did I have to be the one that found the bodies?
The EMTs came in with a stretcher and stopped in front of my booth.
“Too late fellas,” Yancey said. “We’ve called the coroner.”
“Yeah?” Mel Toomey, one of the EMTs asked.
“Ayuh,” George said, nodding his head.
“What happened?” Jack Staynor, the other EMT asked, peering over the side of my booth.
“Dunno,” Yancey said. “Could be natural causes. Don’t see any signs of trauma, but then that would be for the medical examiner to decide.”
“See?” I said to Lucy as she blew her nose on a used tissue she had finally fished out of her purse. “Natural causes.”
“Oh, thank goodness!” she said, placing a hand over her chest. “I’m so glad.”
“You and me, both,” I said. As long as the medical examiner verified it was natural causes, no one could pin a murder on me.
Mel and Jack moved to Diana’s booth and leaned up against the side. Mel reached over and picked up the bowl of can
dy corn and helped himself, then handed it to Jack.
Detective Blanchard sauntered back, glancing over his shoulder at Ellen as she headed out the hall door. He turned back toward Lucy and I after Ellen had exited the building. “That one’s a peach,” he said.
“Oh, you have no idea,” Lucy said. “Diana fired her last month for stealing from the cash register.”
“And she didn’t show a bit of sorrow when she found out Diana was dead,” I added. I thought I would point that out, just in case it turned out Diana hadn’t died of natural causes.
“No, she didn’t seem at all distressed about it,” he agreed. “The coroner should be here any minute. He’ll have to determine if foul play was involved. That’s good to know that she got fired, in case it turns out it wasn’t natural causes.”
“Alec, how long do you think all this will take?” I asked and glanced at the big clock on the wall. It was almost three o’clock, and the bazaar started at seven.
“It’s hard to say. Brant Olney will have to examine the body, take pictures and take a look around the place. Just in case.”
“But we have to have the bazaar,” I almost whined. “We’re raising money for the community Thanksgiving meal as well as money to buy winter coats for less fortunate children. Practically the whole community will be showing up here in a few hours.” We had been planning this event for months. It was a yearly event and without it, many wouldn’t have a Thanksgiving meal. Maine winters were brutal, and the children also needed the coats.
Alec looked at me and sized me up. “I understand. I’ll try to move him out of here as fast as I can.”
The door swung open and Layla Rogers, the owner of Pets, Inc., entered with decorations for her booth. She smiled at all of us, then paused a moment, looking us up and down. Then she continued across the room to her booth.
“We’re going to have to do something about keeping people out of here until we’re done,” Alec said, looking at Yancey and George. Without a word, the two of them headed over to Layla and after a few words, ushered her out of the building.
