Peppered With Murder

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Peppered With Murder Page 6

by Patti Benning


  When her phone buzzed, she nearly jumped out of her skin. Giving up on Hal for the time being, she returned to the tent and checked her cell. She had a missed call from David. She hit the call back button and was raising the phone to her ear when a mummy grabbed her shoulder.

  “David! You scared me half to death,” she said. She ended the call and slid her phone back into the voluminous pocket of her witch’s robe. “What’s going on? Who’s watching the lock box?”

  “I left it with one of the volunteers — the kid wearing the barber’s costume. I needed to talk to you.”

  “Chance? I barely know him; the money shouldn’t be with —”

  “It will be fine. Moira, they found the body.”

  She blinked. Realizing they were standing in the middle of the barber shop, she led him through to the end of the haunted house and stood with him next to the exit.

  “Where did they find him?”

  The news that Maurice was dead shouldn’t have come as a shock to her, but nonetheless she felt as if someone had kicked her in the stomach. She realized that she had been holding on to the irrational hope that he had been alive this whole time.

  “In Lake Marion. Someone dumped his body off of the dock, but they didn’t weight it properly and, well, someone found it.”

  “That’s horrible,” she said. “Oh my goodness. That’s probably why Hal left so suddenly. His wife must have heard.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She told him about the way the man had checked his phone, and then vanished so mysteriously.

  “Okay, I’m going to call Detective Jefferson and let him know. If he heard that the body was found, he might be trying to get out of town. You go make sure everything is okay up front. I’ll let you know if there are any updates.”

  Her mind racing, Moira left his side and trekked through the dark towards the deli’s front door. Things were happening so quickly. She hoped desperately that tonight would be the night that Maurice’s murder was solved. There were still many questions left unanswered, but with a body and a possible suspect, things were beginning to look just a little bit clearer.

  As she neared the deli’s doors, she was surprised to see someone pushing against the crowd, exiting the building from the front. The person had a rectangular box in his arms, and was bulldozing through the crowd, not even pausing when he knocked a couple of young children down.

  Her heart skipped a beat. It was Chance, and he was getting away with all of the fundraiser’s money.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  * * *

  “Wait!” she called. It was a pointless, gut reaction that had the opposite effect on Chance. He glanced over in her direction and began running awkwardly toward the parking lot.

  Muttering under her breath about how she was too old for all of this, Moira hoisted up her robe and ran toward him. She had promised her friend that she would make the fundraiser run smoothly, and she was determined not to let this thief get away with their money. How had everything become so chaotic so quickly? All she wanted was to run a haunted house for Halloween and go to bed at night without worrying about the most recent murder.

  To her relief, Chance didn’t get in a car. Instead, he ran through the parking lot, down the sidewalk, and toward the residential part of town. She hadn’t paid much attention to how he had gotten there earlier that day; he must have walked. It meant that she could catch him — if she hurried.

  Unfortunately, hurrying was out of the question. The boots she was wearing had heels, and her robe kept getting tangled in her legs, tripping her up. Her hat bounced off her head and fell to the ground somewhere behind her. Panting, she slowed to a walk and reached into her pocket for her phone – but it wasn’t there. It must have fallen out some point while she was running. These darn pockets, she thought. She hesitated, torn between her choices. She could either go back, find someone with a phone and make a call to the police, or continue following Chance.

  By the time the police responded to her call, she knew that Chance would be long gone. With the body recently found in the next town over, she was certain that the shared police force would be busy that night. Gritting her teeth, she picked up her pace again. Chance was already at the end of the block, but he seemed to have stopped. It looked like he was having troubles with the lockbox. As Moira watched, he fumbled and dropped it. It broke open, spilling cash across the ground.

  She heard him curse loudly and saw him kneel to begin picking the bills up. He was distracted enough that he didn’t notice her getting closer and closer.

  At last he looked up and saw her only feet away from them. He jumped to his feet, quickly stuffing the money into his pockets.

  “Put it back,” she demanded. “You’re literally stealing money from starving children.”

  “Chill, lady. It’s what, a few hundred bucks?” he asked, putting his hands up.

  “It’s important. Look…” She sighed. “Just give me the money and the box, and I won’t press charges. The police have enough to deal with, now that Maurice has been found. I just want to be able to give this money to my friend and let her see that something can go right without getting screwed up.”

  “They found the body?” he said, his hands falling to his sides.

  “Yes,” she said. “Now, are you going to give me the money, or do I have to call the police? You might get away temporarily, but it’s a small town. They will find you. A couple hundred dollars isn’t worth going on the run for, is it?”

  “No, it isn’t,” he said.

  He bent down and reached for the bills. She let herself relax. This had been solved easily and quickly, which was more than she could say for most things in her life. This was one disaster, at least, that she had managed to divert.

  Chance moved quickly, grabbing the lockbox by its edge and swinging up at her face. She threw her arm up in front of her reflexively, which saved her from what could have been a major injury. Still, the sharp pain of the box’s corner biting into her arm made her cry out. She stumbled back, tears stinging her eyes. It felt as if her arm had been broken, even though she doubted that he had hit her that hard.

  “What the heck?” she snapped. “Are you trying to kill me?”

  “Just back off,” he said, grabbing for the money again and stuffing more of it into his pockets. “Leave me be.”

  “I told you, I’m not going to let you take that money.” She flexed her fingers, relieved that everything still worked. The hospital was the last place that she wanted to spend her evening.

  “It’s not even about the money anymore,” he said, scrabbling frantically for every last bill. “I need to get out of here.”

  “Why —”

  She broke off, slowly connecting the dots that she should have seen ages ago.

  “Are you… are you the one that killed Maurice?”

  She saw him flinch. “The dude was just there,” he began. “He came out of nowhere. He thought he was some tough guy or something. Tried to pull me away from the door. He shoved me and I just snapped. I grabbed the closest thing to me, and when he came at me again, I fought back.”

  “Slow down,” she said, taking another step back from the obviously panicked young man. “What do you mean he pulled you away from the door? What door?” The more she knew, the more information she could give to the police if he got away. She wasn’t about to try to stop him, not when he had such an advantage over her. Her arm may not be broken, but she didn’t want to try to use it to restrain a man that was probably twice as strong as her, and much more motivated.

  “I was trying to break into the deli, okay?” he said. “Some of these stores, they leave the doors unlocked at night. I guess employees get lazy sometimes or whatever. I’ve done it before, always just taking a few small things. Twenty bucks here, a couple of things off the shelves there… I know it’s stupid, but I never did any harm. I’m not like, a hardened criminal or anything.”

  As far as she was concerned, he was. He had killed someone, aft
er all, and he had just admitted to a history of shoplifting and trespassing. Maybe he hadn’t been charged with anything, but just because he hadn’t been caught didn’t mean he wasn’t a criminal.

  “Maurice stopped a crime from happening, which is more than most people would have,” she said. “He didn’t deserve what you did to him.”

  “What are you going to do about it?” he asked. “I don’t really care about your opinion. just stay back, or I’m going to have to defend myself again.”

  She was grateful that the only dangerous thing within reach was a metal box. Yes, he could do some damage with it, but at least she wouldn’t end up with a metal rod through her chest like poor Maurice.

  “I’m not going to get in your way,” she said, taking another step back as a show of good will. “Since you’re leaving anyway, can you just tell me one thing? What happened to his body? It’s been driving me crazy. Did he really get up and walk away from the deli like everyone thought he did?”

  “No. He was long dead by then. I had to run back to my mom’s house and take her van without her noticing. When I got back, I waited until you left the alley, then carried him to the van. I didn’t realize everyone would think he was some kind of weird zombie. It was kind of funny, watching everyone run around looking for him, when I knew he was in the bottom of the lake all the time.”

  Moira felt sick. The way he talked about Maurice made it seem like he hardly thought of the elderly man as a person. She wished he could have seen Suzanne’s grief firsthand. On second thought, I hope she never comes face to face with the monster that killed her father, she thought.

  Chance had finished collecting the money from the ground. He rose to his feet, keeping his one weapon – the metal lockbox – with him. “Well, this is it,” he said. “Don’t follow me.”

  Feeling helpless, Moira watched him walk away. She was still clutching her arm to herself. She felt something warm between her fingers; she was bleeding.

  She was about to turn and head back towards the deli where she would at least be able to find a phone to call the police when she saw a pair of headlights drive past her and Chance, only to slow and do a U-turn shortly after they passed her. Great, she thought. He has an accomplice.

  The car pulled to a stop next to her and she looked over, expecting the worst. Instead, she saw Denise’s familiar red hair. “Moira?” her friend said. “What are you doing out here?”

  “What are you doing out here? Never mind, just let me in the car and follow that kid. I’ll explain soon. Can I use your phone?”

  “Sure, it’s in the cup holder. I was just coming out to see how the haunted house was doing. I felt bad leaving it all up to you on such short notice. Are you okay? You’re bleeding.”

  The deli owner waved her friend’s concern away, reaching for the phone and dialing the emergency number. Within moments, she had the police station on the line. Denise pulled forward slowly, following Chance, who looked over his shoulder and began to jog along the sidewalk. It didn’t matter; it wouldn’t be long until the police arrived, and they wouldn’t let him out of their sight until they saw the flashing lights. There was no way that Maurice’s murderer was getting away from them.

  EPILOGUE

  * * *

  “Trick-or-treat!”

  “Here you go,” Moira said, putting a small handful of candy into the child’s bucket. “I like your costume.”

  The pirate grinned at her, then ran off to the next house. Martha, standing next to her dressed as a fairy godmother, smiled.

  “It’s times like these I almost wish I had children. Almost.”

  “It’s times like these I wish Candice was a child again,” the deli owner replied. “It’s crazy how much I miss those days.”

  “I’m sure back then, you couldn’t wait for her to get older.”

  “No, I always enjoyed the younger years. It’s when she became a teenager that things got difficult.”

  “I know I got difficult when I was a teenager,” Martha said, chuckling. “Man, the years sure do fly by.”

  “That they do,” Moira agreed. “By the way, thanks for having David and me over. No one ever comes trick-or-treating out where we live. This is fun.”

  “Sure, you know you guys are welcome any time. Is your arm holding up okay? Do you want me to take over for a bit?”

  “Go ahead,” Moira said, handing the large bowl of candy over to her friend. Her right arm had a large, white bandage on it from the injury she had sustained the day before. It still hurt quite a bit, and she was sure that under the bandage, she had a nasty bruise. Still, she counted herself lucky. She had walked away from the incident with nothing more than a glorified cut. It could have been much, much worse.

  “Hey,” David said, coming up behind her and sliding an arm around her waist. “Did I miss anything?”

  “You certainly did. There was a pirate, a couple of princesses, some sort of superhero, and a mummy — though it wasn’t as good as yours.”

  “I don’t know, I think a three-foot-high mummy could be pretty scary,” he said. “It sounds like the makings of a great summer horror flick.”

  “My entire week could be a horror movie,” she said. “I’m just glad that everything got resolved last night. At least Suzanne — and Hal, if he cares somewhere deep down inside — will get the closure they deserve. Maurice will get a funeral, and Chance will get exactly what he deserves; a long stay in prison.”

  “Ugh, don’t talk about prison. It reminds me of the court date that Denise and Logan have tomorrow. She’s got me worried right alongside her. I mean, I know he killed someone, but it was in self-defense. He really shouldn’t have to spend years and years of his life in prison alongside actual murderers. The experience would change him completely by the time he got out, and he’s just a kid. He doesn’t deserve that,” Martha said.

  “I hope everything turns out all right for him, too. I wish I could help, somehow.” Whenever she thought about Logan’s predicament, she felt sick to her stomach. The whole thing was a mess, and a perfect example of how life could change completely in the blink of an eye.

  “Denise is a smart, determined woman,” David said. “I’m sure she’s done everything she can to ensure the appeal goes well for Logan.”

  “I just hope it’s enough,” Moira said. “The thought of what she’s going through right now just kills me. Families need to be together.”

  She bit her lip, her thoughts returning to Candice. It was tough to acknowledge that her daughter was finally spreading her wings, and even tougher for her to admit that it might be a good thing. She hadn’t lost her daughter; far from it. Candice would still be a part of her life, but she also had her own life now, and that was something to celebrate. Some families never got the chance to see their child grow up and move away, and she was immensely grateful that she had had the chance to watch her sweet little girl transform into a confident, driven young woman. Whatever life threw her way, Moira knew Candice would be all right — and so would she.

 

 

 


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