The Pumpkin Muffin Murder

by Livia J. Washburn

  They checked out and left the store, and as Phyllis pushed the buggy through the parking lot toward her car, she thought that there was something she’d forgotten to get. She nearly always felt that way when she went shopping, though, and as far as she could tell, she hadn’t actually forgotten anything. She told herself not to worry about it.

  Phyllis spent the rest of the day happily baking several pies. Carolyn worked alongside her, and Dana came into the kitchen as well and joined in their conversation, which was heavily oriented toward past holiday celebrations. As Dana laughed and reminisced about things that had happened while she was growing up, Phyllis thought about how good this little slice of normalcy was for her. Phyllis hoped it would last through the holiday and on past it for a while. Dana needed to recover and get as much of her strength back as she could before the ordeal of defending herself from murder charges began again.

  It didn’t help matters when Chief Whitmire called and asked for Dana. With a feeling of apprehension, Phyllis handed over the phone, then watched and listened as Dana replied in clipped tones to the chief’s questions, finally naming one of the town’s funeral homes.

  Phyllis and Carolyn exchanged a glance. Logan’s funeral . . . of course, Phyllis thought. The police were finished with the body, and it was being released so that Dana could make funeral arrangements.

  When Dana hung up the phone, the color was gone from her face again. “You know what that was about,” she said.

  Phyllis nodded. “Logan’s funeral.”

  “Yes. I . . . I need to call the funeral home. I’m sure I’ll have to go down there and talk to them. . . .”

  Carolyn said, “I’ll come with you. You don’t have to handle all this by yourself, Dana. If there’s anything any of us can do, we want to.”

  “That’s right,” Phyllis added. “Just let us know how we can help.”

  “Thank you,” Dana murmured. “I’m not sure how I would have ever made it through this without the two of you.”

  “You would have figured out a way,” Carolyn told her. “People are stronger than they think they are.”

  Dana called the funeral home, and then she and Carolyn left to go there and make the arrangements. What a terrible juxtaposition, Phyllis thought, to have to have a funeral right around the same time as a holiday of giving thanks.

  She tried to concentrate on her baking while Dana and Carolyn were gone, but it was difficult to do so. Bobby provided some distraction, though, when he came in from the garage with Sam and had to tell Phyllis all about what they’d been doing.

  Finally, the two women returned. Dana, looking pale and drawn, went right upstairs. Carolyn paused in the kitchen and told Phyllis, “The funeral is tomorrow afternoon at three o’clock.”

  “The day before Thanksgiving?”

  “It was that or wait until Saturday, and Dana didn’t want to wait that long. She said she’d rather not have it looming over her for any longer than she had to.”

  “Well, I can understand that, I suppose,” Phyllis said.

  “School will be out tomorrow, so her friends can be there. The ones who are willing to stick by her, anyway. I’m not sure all of them will.”

  “We will,” Phyllis said. “Someone will have to stay here with Bobby. I wouldn’t want to take him to a funeral without talking to Mike and Sarah about it first, and I don’t think he needs to attend this one, anyway.”

  “Yes, it would probably bring up even more awkward questions than having Dana staying here with us,” Carolyn agreed.

  “Do we need to have lunch for the family before the service?”

  Carolyn shook her head. “Dana said she didn’t want to do that. She said she didn’t think she could face Logan’s family in a setting like that.”

  “Don’t you think that makes her look even more guilty?” Phyllis asked with a frown.

  “I don’t care. If that’s what she wants, then that’s the way things will be. Anyway, we know she’s not guilty, and eventually, everyone else will, too.”

  Phyllis wanted to believe that, and she knew that Carolyn did, too, but for the first time, she thought that she detected just the faintest trace of doubt in her friend’s voice.

  What if Dana was lying? Phyllis wanted to believe that she was a good enough judge of character not to be fooled easily . . . but what if that wasn’t true this time? Maybe Dana had played them all for fools.

  What it all boiled down to, Phyllis thought, was a need to know the truth. Once that was out in the open, then either Dana would be as much a victim as her husband had been, or else she would be revealed as a cold-blooded murderer. Either way, it would be over.

  With that thought whirling around in her head, it wasn’t easy for Phyllis to go to back to concentrating on pumpkin pies. But she managed.

  Chapter 33

  The next morning dawned gray and overcast. Appropriate weather for a funeral, Phyllis thought. Another front had blown through, bringing with it clouds, occasional drizzle, and colder temperatures, a reminder that winter was not that far off.

  Phyllis explained to Bobby that there was something she and Carolyn and Eve had to do that afternoon, but that he could stay there with Sam. She didn’t go into any detail, and he didn’t seem to want any. He just said, “Okay, Gran’mama,” and she was grateful once again that he had been easy to take care of during this difficult time.

  The service was being held at the funeral home. Phyllis offered to drive all of them, since hers was the largest and most comfortable car. Dana rode in the front passenger seat, and on the way there that afternoon, she said, “I’m dreading this.”

  Carolyn leaned forward from the backseat to rest a hand on her shoulder. “I know you are. Just be strong and remember that we’ll all be right there for you.”

  Dana wore an elegant black suit and looked every inch the grieving widow. The contrast with her dark clothes made her face seem even more washed out. Despite the overcast day, she slipped a pair of sunglasses out of her purse and put them on. Maybe she wanted to hide eyes that were red rimmed from crying, Phyllis thought.

  Or maybe she just didn’t trust anyone to see the expression in her eyes.

  That nagging thought was disturbing. Ever since the day before, Phyllis hadn’t been able to shake the idea that maybe she was wrong this time, that her instincts had failed her and she was harboring a killer in her home. Goodness knew, the evidence pointed to Dana. There were some unexplained questions, mostly about Logan’s business and that NorCenTex Development deal, but was there enough in that to create any real doubt?

  Phyllis wasn’t thinking about the sort of reasonable doubt that was enough to keep a person from being convicted in court. Someone could be guilty of a crime and still be acquitted, simply because the state had failed to provide enough evidence against them. So far, despite her digging into the case, Phyllis still hadn’t found anything to indicate that someone besides Dana had had a good reason to kill Logan and the knowledge needed to do so in the manner that had been employed by the murderer.

  Was a hunch enough? Phyllis asked herself. Because that was really all she had, a hunch that Dana wasn’t guilty, other than the feeling that she wasn’t looking at something from the proper angle.

  There weren’t many cars at the funeral home when they got there. Of course, it was early yet. The funeral director met them at the door with his usual comforting smile and took charge of Dana, expecting to lead her to a small room where the family would wait for the service to begin.

  Dana balked at that. “I don’t want to wait with Logan’s family,” she said, her voice shaking a little. “I hope you understand.”

  “Of course,” the man murmured. It was his job to act like he understood, whether he really did or not. “We have another small waiting room, Mrs. Powell. Come with me.”

  Dana turned her head and said, “Carolyn, can you . . . ?”

  “Of course,” Carolyn replied without hesitation. She looked at the funeral director. “If that’s all r
ight?”

  “Yes, please, Mrs. Wilbarger, come with us,” the man said. He led both of them down a hallway and through a door.

  “I hate funerals,” Eve said to Phyllis as they stood in front of the double doors of the chapel. “Weddings are so much more fun.”

  “If Carolyn were here, she’d say that you ought to know, you’ve had so many of them,” Phyllis said.

  Eve laughed softly. “Thank you, dear, for taking up the slack. That’s exactly what she would have said, and it makes me feel better to hear it. I’m going to get married again one of these days, you know.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” Phyllis said, although as far as she knew, Eve wasn’t even dating anyone at the moment, which would make getting married a little harder.

  They went into the chapel, where a few people were already sitting. Solemn music played very quietly from hidden speakers, just loud enough to hear without really intruding itself onto a person’s consciousness. Phyllis and Eve took seats near the front and waited. They hadn’t been there long when Ben and Barbara Loomis came in.

  “Do you mind if we sit with you?” Barbara asked.

  “No, of course not,” Phyllis said. Barbara sat down next to her, with Ben on the other side of his wife.

  “How are you?”

  “Getting ready for Thanksgiving,” Phyllis said in reply to Barbara’s question. “We just have to get through this first.”

  “Yes. It’s a terrible thing to have the day before, isn’t it?”

  Phyllis nodded. She looked over at Ben and saw that he wasn’t his usual jovial self today. Well, who would be in a funeral home?

  Ben didn’t look sad, though. He looked angry, as if he didn’t want to be here and Barbara had forced him to come. Maybe that was because he would rather be working, Phyllis thought.

  Or maybe it was because there was something to the theory that had popped into her mind a couple of nights earlier, the possibility that something had been going on between Logan and Barbara. Phyllis could understand why a man might not be too happy about being forced to attend the funeral of his wife’s lover.

  She was getting way ahead of herself, she thought. Dana had suspected Logan of cheating, and Barbara and her husband were having some sort of trouble between them, but those two facts weren’t necessarily connected.

  Something occurred to Phyllis, something that Barbara had said in the restroom there at the school that she’d meant to ask her about. This wasn’t a very good place to do it, but she didn’t know when she’d get another chance. Keeping her voice low, she leaned closer to Barbara and said, “A couple of days ago, you mentioned something about Dana’s condition. What did you mean by that? She can’t be pregnant. She told me she can’t have children.”

  “Pregnant? Oh, no, it’s nothing like that. But she’s not in good health at all. To tell you the truth, I never expected her to outlive Logan. He was so vital, so full of life, and she was so fragile.”

  Fragile? Other than being a little too slender, Dana seemed to be in perfect health, Phyllis thought. But then she remembered back to how Logan had seemed to her, and she never would have dreamed that he had so many medical problems.

  “You mean they were both in bad health?”

  “What?” Barbara frowned. “No. Logan was fine. He was the one who had to take care of Dana all the time.”

  Phyllis drew in a deep breath. She thought back quickly over everything she had read in the newspapers and seen on television about Logan’s death. Nothing had ever been said about the cause of death, although in the absence of an official statement, the stories had hinted that Logan might have been poisoned. The authorities were keeping the exact cause of death to themselves for the moment, although Phyllis knew it. Barbara Loomis, clearly, did not.

  Barbara didn’t know that she had it backward about which of the Powells was in poor health, either. That had to mean something, Phyllis told herself.

  Before she could puzzle out what it was, more mourners began to arrive. Not surprisingly, Jenna, Taryn, and Kendra were together. They filed into the same row where Phyllis, Eve, and the Loomises were sitting, and with a solemn smile, Jenna asked, “Can we join you?”

  Ben stood up. “Why don’t you ladies sit together?” he suggested. “I’ll just move farther back.”

  “Oh, no, Ben,” Barbara said quickly. “That’s not necessary.”

  “I think it is,” he said, clearly struggling to keep a curt note out of his voice. He waved a big hand toward the bench. “Ladies.”

  The other three teachers moved past him and sat down. If Phyllis had had any doubts about there being problems between the Loomises, they were gone now.

  As soon as Kendra sat down, she took a handkerchief from her purse and began dabbing at her eyes. Phyllis saw how she kept looking at the closed casket sitting in front of the altar at the front of the chapel.

  She wasn’t the only one, though. Taryn and Jenna were staring at Logan’s casket as well. It was difficult not to look at the casket when you were at a funeral, Phyllis thought, but the three teachers—four if you counted Barbara, who was also starting to look teary eyed—seemed to be regarding it with more than the usual intensity. It was almost like they had come not to support Dana in her grief . . .

  But to say good-bye to Logan Powell.

  Phyllis closed her eyes. The thoughts that began to whirl through her head were insane, and she knew it. Carolyn had said a couple of days earlier that if Phyllis was going to suspect Barbara of having an affair with Logan, she might as well suspect every teacher in the school.

  Not every teacher, Phyllis thought now. But maybe four in particular.

  On the other hand, suppose that wild theory was right. Phyllis had just come up with even more reason for Dana to hate her husband enough to kill him. It would have been bad enough if Logan was playing around with one of her close friends. But all four of them . . . ?

  That would be enough to drive some women to murder, all right.

  And if Dana really had killed Logan on Friday night, what better way to try to throw suspicion off herself than to show up at the park on Saturday morning looking for him and acting scared that something had happened to him? It hadn’t worked, of course, but it was the sort of thing that someone might think, especially someone desperate with guilt. The more Phyllis turned everything over in her mind, the more it all fit.

  But if it was true, then wasn’t it possible that sooner or later Dana might try to strike back against the women who had befriended her and then betrayed her? Phyllis caught her breath as she looked along the line of grieving teachers. All four of them might be in danger.

  She couldn’t very well warn them in the middle of a funeral, though, and the service was about to get under way. The music had just gotten louder. Sad-faced men and women filed in from a side door and took their places on one of the front benches reserved for family. Those would be Logan’s relatives, Phyllis thought.

  A moment later, the funeral director brought Dana and Carolyn in. Phyllis saw the angry, suspicious glances that Logan’s relatives directed toward Dana. They probably didn’t know many of the details of the case, only that Logan was dead and Dana had been arrested for his murder. Yet here she was, out of jail and at his funeral. No wonder they felt considerable resentment.

  The chapel was only about half full as the service started with a prayer. Phyllis recognized some of the mourners as teachers, while others were probably business associates of Logan’s. Dana and Logan weren’t regular churchgoers, but like Carolyn, they were members of one of the local Methodist churches, so the pastor from there conducted the service. There was no such thing as a “good” funeral, Phyllis supposed, but this one was more awkward and uncomfortable than most because of the circumstances.

  It was made even more so for her by the speculation that filled her mind. Maybe Logan really had been a womanizing, philandering snake. That just gave his wife more of a reason to want him dead. And there was no getting around the fact that Dana was th
e only one who knew that switching his regular peppermints for sugar-free ones would probably kill him.

  Even though she felt terrible about it, Phyllis resolved to keep a very close eye on Dana while the woman was staying at her house. She almost wished now that she hadn’t agreed to it.

  The funeral service really wasn’t very long, but it seemed interminable. Finally it was over, though. Dana must have requested that the casket not be opened for a last look, because it remained closed. Everyone filed out to get in their cars and drive to the cemetery for the graveside service. Dana and Carolyn rode in the funeral director’s car, directly behind the hearse, and Phyllis’s car was the third one in the procession.

  The clouds had continued their gray march across the heavens while the funeral was going on. Phyllis had to turn the windshield wipers on once to clear mist off the glass, but nothing was coming down when they got to the cemetery. The sky continued to threaten, however, so the minister didn’t waste any time once everyone was gathered under the canopy that had been set up next to the open grave. He said a few words thanking everyone who had come, read a scripture, and said a prayer. The pallbearers added their boutonnieres to the flowers arranged on top of the casket, the mourners filed by and shook hands with Dana and with Logan’s relatives—they had kept an empty folding chair between her and them, and her eyes were turned straight ahead and never wavered—and then it was finished. People scattered, heading for their cars.

  Carolyn had sat with Phyllis, Eve, and the teachers from Loving Elementary during the graveside service. She stood up and went over to Dana, taking her arm. “We’ll take you back to the house now,” she said quietly.

  “Yes. Thank you.” Dana paused, though, and looked over her shoulder toward the casket as it sat on the apparatus that would lower it into the ground when everyone was gone except the cemetery workers. Phyllis tried not to look at the bulldozer that sat unobtrusively about fifty yards away and tried even harder not to think about how it would soon be used.