Janet McNulty - Mellow Summers 08 - Trick Or Treat Or Murder

by Janet McNulty

  Trick Or Treat, Or Murder?

  Janet McNulty

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents within are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or location is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  Trick Or Treat, Or Murder?

  Copyright © 2013 Janet McNulty

  Cover Illustration by Robert M. Henry

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  Chapter 1

  Greg and I held hands as we walked down the street to our apartment complex. The brisk autumn air whisked past us blowing a few multicolored leaves around our feet. Halloween had arrived and we decided to look at some of the decorations before the Trick o’ Treaters started on their mission of acquiring as much free candy as they could. I loved this time of year. The fresh, cool air and the decorations and mostly Halloween and Christmas: my two most favorite holidays in the year.

  Many Jack O’ Lanterns already flickered as the candles within them brought them to life. Some of them had scary faces while others had more humorous looks. One I noticed actually had been carved into a bat holding a ghost. Artistic, I thought to myself knowing I would never be able to duplicate that.

  Greg and I walked through the double doors of our apartment building and hiked up the stairs to the second floor. We had been dating for over two years now. He and I both attended the local university.

  Many of the tenants had their own spooky decorations up. One door was covered in that stuff that looks like a bunch of cobwebs with several hairy spiders hanging from it. Another door just had a few paper decorations up while a third, the elderly man on my floor, had put out a couple of pumpkins and a wreath.

  “Well?” asked Greg.

  “Yes,” I replied.

  “You love this time of year a lot don’t you?”

  “I do. I love the times of the year when you get to decorate and make the place look different from the other days of the year.”

  “Can’t blame you there,” said Greg. “Most of the places we saw have good decorations.”

  We stopped at the door to my apartment and I put the key into the lock. “Yep, Halloween is fun. I love watching the kids in their costumes. Some of them are just so adorable.”

  I opened the door and stopped suddenly. Hanging from the ceiling like a limp fish was Rachel with a necktie around her neck. She swayed slightly and twirled a bit; her eyes closed and her body still.

  “And then there is Halloween at your place,” muttered Greg.

  I slammed the door shut. Rachel opened her eyes and hopped down. “Surprise,” she said. “Here.” She handed Greg the neck tie which was actually one of his.

  “Keep it,” said Greg, “I never liked that one anyway.”

  Beaming, Rachel clutched it like a prized possession.

  “You want to tell me why you are hanging from my ceiling?” I asked.

  “I thought that I’d drop in for a visit,” replied Rachel, “I love Halloween. The one time a year where a ghost can show herself to everyone and they not only see me, but don’t know I’m a ghost! Isn’t it wonderful? Of course, I can still disappear if I wish.”

  A knock sounded at the door.

  “For instance,” said Rachel as she opened it. She dematerialized so that all the kids saw was a floating bowl of candy.

  “Hey, kids,” said Rachel, without the body. Candy floated from the bowl to each of the kids’ opened bags; each stared at it with wide eyes.

  “Wh—Where are you?” asked one frightened boy dressed as Spiderman.

  “Oh, sorry,” Rachel materialized and then disappeared again.

  The children dashed down the hallway yelling “Ghost! Ghost!”

  Seconds later a thunderous knock sounded at the door as an irate father showed up wanting to know why we were frightening his kids. Rachel answered it.

  “What was the meaning of this?” demanded the father.

  “Of what?” said Rachel. The man clearly saw her.

  “My kids are saying something about there being a ghost.”

  “Well, as you can see there is no ghost here.” Rachel handed him the bowl of candy and shut the door.

  “Uh, you just gave him all of our candy,” I said.

  “Whoops!” Rachel popped out of the room and popped back moments later with the bowl of candy. I could only imagine the look on the man’s face. So, the tales of the haunted apartment will remain.

  Another knock sounded. “Oh, more Trick or Treaters!” Rachel rushed to the door and ripped it open.

  “Trick or Treat,” came the chorus of voices.

  This time Rachel emptied the candy bowl into their bags. “Oh, you’re so cute,” she said to a baby dressed as a pumpkin.

  “There!” Rachel closed the door.

  “The bowl is empty,” I said.

  “So fill it up,” said Rachel.

  “That was all the candy we had,” I told her.

  “Well I’ll get you more.” Rachel stuck a hat on her head and walked out the door with the empty bowl. She knocked on my neighbor’s door. “Trick or Treat!”

  My poor neighbor. He stood frozen in the doorway staring at a floating hat and empty bowl unsure of what to do.

  “Well, fill it up dummy,” said Rachel raising the bowl.

  I slapped my forehead. What was she thinking? Did she want to scare the bejesus out of him?

  “It ain’t gonna fill itself,” said Rachel, growing impatient.

  Shakily, my neighbor grabbed his bowl of candy and put some in Rachel’s.

  “You can give more than that.”

  I could have smacked her.

  My neighbor put more in the floating bowl. “Uh, Happy…Halloween?”

  “The best!” Rachel walked down the hall and knocked on another door and received the same confused look that my neighbor had given her. Once she had hit every door on my floor Rachel trotted towards me.

  “I got some candy!” she sang out loud.

  “Rachel,” I hissed, “are you trying to scare everyone?”

  “No,” replied Rachel, “just a few people. Here.” She handed me the now full bowl of candy. “Oh, how I miss dressing up for Halloween and getting free candy.”

  Just then Jackie rushed down the hall and through the apartment door with a few bags. “Got our costumes,” she said. Jackie was my closest friend who moved to Vermont with me when I decided to attend college up here.

  “For?” I asked.

  “The party we’re going to tonight.”

  “Party?”

  “I forgot to tell you?” said Jackie with a bewildered expression. “Sorry. Yeah, there’s a party at Miss Hamilton’s house. She’s that lady whom I helped a few weeks ago. Anyway, she has invited us to her estate for a party and we’re going. You too, Greg.”

  “Uh, okay,” said Greg. Good thing he didn’t have to work.

  I flicked through the costumes. Once again, Jackie had pulled it off. She managed to find some nice costumes for all of us. She had a temptress outfit for herself, a Greek goddess one for me, and an Arthurian knight for Greg. How she knew Greg’s size is beyond me.

  “So get dressed you two,”
said Jackie, “We have to be there in two hours.”

  Jackie noticed Rachel for the first time.

  “Where’s the body?” she asked.

  “Body?” said Greg and I together.

  “Every time she shows up there is usually a body.”

  “Not this time,” Rachel replied, “This time, I am here on a social visit. A Halloween party huh? How exciting! I need a costume.” Rachel popped out of the room.

  “If a body shows up, I blame you,” said Jackie.

  “A body isn’t going to show up,” I said.

  Jackie immediately started rapping on wood. “Remember South Dakota?”

  I did. We had gone out there last March to a dude ranch of sorts with my Aunt Ethel. I had said the same thing about how a body was not going to show up and one fell out of my closet. Hopefully, that wouldn’t happen tonight.

  I took my costume and went to my room to freshen up. I had a curling iron that I used to curl my hair in the fashion of the ancient Greeks and with a lot of bobby pins I actually managed to put it up. Taking a step back, I admired myself in the mirror and the way a few curls fell to my shoulders framing my face.

  Once dressed, I went back to the living room. Greg stood there looking like he belonged at King Arthur’s round table. My very own knight in shiny armor. Jackie pulled off the seductive temptress look quite well with her black eye shadow and lipstick.

  “All ready?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I replied.

  “What about Rachel?” asked Greg.

  “I think she’ll find us,” I told him. “She has a habit of doing that you know.”

  Smiling, Greg gave me his arm and escorted me out the door with Jackie.

  Chapter 2

  Mrs. Hamilton lived on a rather large estate about fifteen miles outside of the city. She belonged to one of those “old families” of Vermont and the estate had been in the family for over ten generations. Quite an achievement, if you think about it.

  Greg, Jackie, and I pulled up in his car. He parked where the valet told him to and we walked up to the house. I recognized some of the people and others I had trouble placing.

  Every year, Mrs. Hamilton threw a Halloween bash and invited practically the entire town. She may have had wealth, but she wasn’t stuffy. She lived alone. Her husband had died five years previously and her only son was away in San Francisco for college. He didn’t visit much. I got the feeling that the woman was lonely and threw these parties that any could attend so as to fill up the house. I can’t say as I blamed her. I might do the same in her position. She was supposed to have a sister, but no one had seen or heard from her in over thirty years. Mrs. Hamilton never talked about it. Bad memories.

  The decorations on the front porch were amazing. Gigantic carved pumpkins glowed with life with their menacing stares, or comical looks; depending on which one you looked at. Ghosts and witches hung from the rafters. We walked inside to a spectacularly decorated interior. A champagne fountain stood in the middle of the party room flowing with gold, sparkling liquid.

  Mesmerized, I just stood there looking at everything. Greg nudged my elbow. I had to admit that he looked very attractive in his costume. I put those thoughts aside for later. This wasn’t the place or time and the fact that Rachel had vowed to show up reentered my mind. Where was she?

  The three of us moved through the room greeting various people from around town. Some of them we knew and others we didn’t

  Rachel popped in beside me dressed as a she devil.

  “Well, there you are,” she said with an empty champagne glass in her hand. “How are you all doing?” Her speech sounded slightly slurred.

  “Rachel, are you okay?” I asked, concerned.

  “Perfect!” She threw up her hands almost losing the champagne glass.

  “Are you drunk?” I asked her.

  “Maybe,” said Rachel tapping her finger on my chest. Her feet shuffled a bit unsteadily.

  “How can you be drunk? How can you be drinking? You’re a ghost!”

  “That is a good question,” said Rachel, “Apparently on Halloween I am able to take on a slightly better physical form.”

  “Which happens to be a light weight,” said Jackie.

  I took the champagne glass from Rachel and steered her over to a chair. She laughed and giggled uncontrollably while tripping over her own feet. What amazed me was the fact that everyone actually saw her and didn’t seem to care that she was a ghost. Maybe she was right. Maybe the rules concerning ghosts were different on Halloween.

  “You’re such a good friend,” slurred Rachel. She hiccupped. I swear bubbles actually came out of her mouth.

  “You might want to keep that in mind the next time you want to drop by unannounced.” I snatched a damp towel from a nearby table and placed it on Rachel’s head.

  “I’m so glad you moved into my apartment,” Rachel said, sniffling.

  Was she crying?

  “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come by and helped me catch my murderer,” Rachel sobbed. “I love you, Mel! You’re the best friend a ghost could ever have!”

  Rachel placed her head on my chest sobbing. Great, just what I needed: an emotionally unstable, intoxicated ghost. I patted her shoulders to comfort her. Why was she acting like this? “It’s okay, Rachel,” I soothed.

  “Problem?” said someone. “Your friend looks a little worse for the wear.”

  I did a double take still not used to people actually being able to see Rachel aside from me, Jackie, and Greg.

  “I think she had a bit too much to drink,” I said.

  Rachel started singing and making raspberries. Guess the emotional moment had ended. What had gotten into her?

  “I have just the thing,” the man waved me forward and I followed him to the kitchen while half dragging Rachel.

  “Hey,” she said to people as we passed them, “You’re cute!”

  I yanked her away from a man dressed as a sexy fireman, who also had a nice six pack of abs.

  We went through the swinging doors to the kitchen. The man, who still had not introduced himself, proceeded to grab a glass and dump stuff in it. I watched as he put tomato juice, an egg, and tabasco sauce in and stir it really well.

  “Here,” he said handing it to Rachel.

  I helped Rachel hold the glass while she took several big swigs. Suddenly, she started coughing and spitting up stuff.

  “It’s working,” said the man.

  “What was in that?” demanded Rachel.

  “My mother’s cure all for too much alcohol,” said the man.

  “Thank you Mr.—” I began.

  “Smythe. Harold Smythe,” said the man holding out his hand.

  I shook it. “Well, thank you.”

  “My head hurts,” said Rachel, “How can my head hurt? I’m a gho—”

  I clapped my hand over her mouth to stop her from telling the world that she was a ghost. Some things were best kept a secret. “I do thank you, Mr. Smythe. We must be getting back to our friends before they wonder where we’ve gone.” Hurriedly, I pulled Rachel out of the kitchen and back to the main party.

  “But I was just—” began Rachel.

  “This isn’t the time to tell everyone that you are a ghost,” I interrupted her.

  “Where have you been?” asked Greg.

  I pointed at Rachel. “Taking care of her. I’d like to know how it’s possible for a ghost to get intoxicated.”

  Shaking her head, Rachel held on to my shoulder to maintain her balance. “My grandma always said that on All Hallow’s Eve ghosts can actually take physical form. More physical than what we normally achieve the rest of the year. So not only can just about everyone see us, but we can actually taste food. I never really believed her. Until now.”

  “Guess you ought to in the future,” I said.

  “Yeah,” replied Rachel getting back to her old self. “Guess I went a little overboard.”

  “A little,” said Greg.


  I gently elbowed him to get him to shut his mouth. No need to cause an incident. Rachel was fine now and I just wanted to enjoy the rest of the party.

  Jackie found us. “There you guys are.”

  “Sorry,” I said.

  “Oh don’t worry about it,” replied Jackie. “Anyway, I heard that we are going to be playing one of those mystery murder games. Someone—don’t know who—pretends to get killed or plays the victim and we are supposed to figure out who did it.”

  Amazed at her being so excited, I had to speak. “I thought you would despise this considering what we really do.”

  “Nonsense,” said Jackie, “It’s just a game. It’s not like someone is really going to get killed.”

  “Sounds like fun,” Rachel blurted out.

  “So who is the victim?” asked Greg.

  “No one knows,” replied Jackie. “Before the party started, Mrs. Hamilton already had it arranged as far as who was to play the victim and who was to be the murderer among us. Anyway, it’s supposed to be starting anytime now, so keep your eyes and ears peeled.”

  It sounded like fun. I had never participated in a murder mystery game before. Be nice not to have to actually solve one for a change.

  Music flowed and laughter filled the room as we all waited for the game to start and to learn who among us would be killed. We didn’t have to wait long. A scream echoed from across the room. We all turned toward it and I watched as Harold Smythe clutched the side of his neck and slumped to the ground. Surprise and shock filled his face. It looked very realistic.

  “Oh, good, the game has started,” said someone next to me.

  “Great acting,” muttered another.

  An ominous feeling filled my stomach. Mr. Smythe’s acting seemed too realistic. I pushed my way through the crowd towards the body. I had to really shove people out of my way as everyone gathered around Mr. Smythe’s still form. Many chided me for my actions, but I didn’t care.

  I finally reached Mr. Smythe and noticed that his face looked rather pale and he remained very still. There was no rise and fall in his chest; not even a slight one that even a good actor cannot hide.