Pumpkin Picking with Murder

by Auralee Wallace

  Yup.

  My place? Half an hour?

  I’ll be there.

  I jumped out of bed. Yeah, no, this could all still work.

  I grabbed my duffel bag and quickly zipped it open. I already had my outfit picked out. Grady had said we might be outside, so I pulled out a fresh pair of jeans and a sweater that pretended to look casual but clung to my body in all the right places. I threw off the shirt I had been wearing, and quickly smelled my armpits. Not bad … but not good. Shoot! Why had I wasted all this time feeling sorry for myself when I could have been showering? I snatched my deodorant out the bag, gave myself a few swipes, then pulled the sweater over my head. I then jumped into the new pair of jeans and hustled out my door and down the hall while trying to button the waist. Maybe my jeans were getting a little too tight, because I just couldn’t seem to get the button in. I needed more running and less Scotland Yard. I pulled up the fabric of my sweater and pinned it under my chin as I pushed my pelvis forward to get a better look at the situation.

  “Mom? Can I borrow your b—”

  I suddenly felt a lot of eyes on me. I looked slowly up from my bare waist to see half a dozen women and a few men all seated in the lotus position, smiling at me from the floor.

  “Hi,” I said with a small wave, yanking down my sweater. “Sorry.”

  A few jolted at the sound of my voice, but one man gave me a pretty clear wink.

  “Sorry,” I said again, but in a whisper this time. “I’ll just scoot by.” I weaved through the maze of yoga mats placed randomly about the floor.

  Suddenly my mom popped out of nowhere and grabbed my arm. Yet another thing I hated about Silence of the Soul was my mother’s ability to take on the stealth of a ninja.

  “What?” I whispered.

  She held her palm out and gestured to all the faces staring at us.

  I sighed. Oh, I guess introductions were in order. “I’m Erica. Summer’s daught—”

  Suddenly my mom’s finger was on my lips silencing me. I watched her then cradle an imaginary baby in her arms, smiling the ecstatic smile of motherhood, before turning her eyes from her imaginary bundle of joy to me.

  All the seated faces smiled and nodded with understanding.

  I once again threw out a small wave and made for the front door when my mother grabbed my arm again.

  I mimed crying, but she ignored me and gestured to the person seated closest to us on the floor. She then made an encouraging gesture with her hand, and the woman got to her feet.

  What was going on here?

  The woman started to pirouette and dance about the room. She then stopped suddenly and pointed a finger about as though she were giving instructions … like a dance teacher. Oh no. Oh no, no, no! They were going to act out their occupations! My mother was already waving a hand at the next person to get up.

  “Erica,” a loud voice suddenly said from the screen door. “Can I talk to you?”

  “God, yes.”

  Chapter Five

  I walked out onto the porch letting the screen door bang shut behind me. “Hey Kit Kat, I didn’t expect to see you. Is everything—Whoa!”

  Kit Kat grabbed my elbow, yanking me away from the door. “Listen up. This is important, and we don’t need all those Marcel Marceau wannabes eavesdropping.”

  “Okay,” I said, straightening up and adjusting my sweater. “What’s going on?”

  “You and me, we gotta get something straight.”

  I narrowed my eyes to a squint and said, “You’re acting like a gangster again.”

  “Focus,” she snapped, pointing a warning finger up toward my nose. “You know Tweety and I think of you as a daughter.”

  “Aw.” I dropped the arms that I hadn’t realized were crossed over my chest. “That’s so swee—”

  She snapped her fingers in my face. “So you need to promise me something.”

  “Oh, okay.” I blinked a little. I was having trouble keeping up with this conversation.

  She tilted her chin in the air. “I need to know that you and that friend of yours aren’t getting any ideas.”

  “What?” I asked, biting off the word. “I’m not getting any ideas. I can never be too sure about Freddie.” I assumed that’s who she meant. “And more important, what kind of ideas?”

  “Ideas about playing detective.”

  For the first time, I really considered the possibility that Tweety was having some sort of affair with Mr. Masterson, but I couldn’t see what business that was of anyone’s … except maybe Mrs. Masterson. Still, the idea of it left me kind of hurt? Disappointed? The twins had always been role models for me as a child. Sure, they were rough around the edges, but they were also salt-of-the-earth-type people. They had their own rough sort of integrity. I’d counted on that growing up. When my mother was off with the fairies, they had their feet firmly planted on the ground. “Why would we be playing detective?”

  “Oh, come on, Erica,” Kid Kat said, planting her hands on her hips. “Everybody knows about Freddie’s plans to produce a pilot about your crime-fighting adventures using his rich grandma’s Hong Kong money.”

  “What?” I blinked. “Pilot? Crime fighting? Hong Kong money?”

  “And I just want you to know,” she said, once again bringing her slightly crooked finger up to my face, “that Tweety is off limits.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talk—Ow!”

  Kit Kat had leaned forward to flick me hard on the breastbone before moving the finger back up to point at my face. “This is serious.”

  “That hurt,” I said, rubbing my chest with the heel of my hand.

  “Good. You’ll remember it then.”

  “Okay, first of all,” I said, pointing back at her, “I can assure you I have no plans to go running off playing detective games. What would there even be to investigate? Mr. Masterson probably died of a heart attack, and anything else … well, that’s nobody’s business.”

  I was really hoping Kit Kat would take the opportunity to tell me why her sister was on that ride, and to reassure me that nothing was going on, but instead she said, “You know as well as I do how this town works, and if you and Freddie go off half-cocked asking ques—”

  “We’re not going to ask anyone questions! There is no pilot!” I dropped my voice and added, “That I’m aware of.” It did sound like something Freddie would come up with. “I swear to you, the only plan I ever had for this visit was to meet Grady for dinner.”

  Kit Kat scanned my face with a wary expression. “All right. Well, good,” she said with a nod. “So … calm down then. Your eye’s doing that thing again.”

  I rubbed my eyelids with my fingers, trying to process the drive-by thwacking I had just received. “Can I just say, though, Kit Kat, if you don’t want people asking questions, you really might want to think about not demanding they not ask questions in a really suspicious way.”

  She caught my eyes and held them. “You can be suspicious until the cows come home.” She paused for a moment. “Just keep your mouth shut.”

  I threw my hands in the air. “Okay, now I have to ask. Is Tweety in some kind of trouble?”

  “What did I just tell you!” she yelled, moving to flick me again.

  Thankfully I saw her coming this time and spun to the side. “Answer that question, and I won’t ask any more.”

  “No. Nobody’s in trouble,” she said firmly without meeting my eye. “I’m just worried about my sister’s reputation.”

  “Oh for the love of—”

  “What?”

  I walked over to the porch railing and gripped it with my hands. I stepped back to drop my head between my arms in a stretch. “You’re lying to me,” I muttered, looking down at the thick planks of wood. “Since when have you or Tweety ever worried what people thought of you?”

  “Since now,” she said, moving closer to me. “There’s a lot of history between us and the Mastersons. History that needs to stay buried.”

  “Don’t suppose y
ou’d like to share any of that history with me?” I craned my head to look at her, but she had already moved to the steps and was easing herself down.

  “We’re done here, Erica. You go have fun on your date, but don’t you forget what I said.”

  I inhaled deeply and muttered, “Whatever.”

  She spun around at the bottom of the steps. “And if Tweety asks, this conversation never happened.”

  * * *

  Minutes later I was edging my mom’s new boat around the bend that would take me to Grady’s place. It was nothing fancy, a basic bowrider, but it felt good gliding across the water. The last fingers of pink and orange light were stretching across the water as the crisp evening air cooled the sweat on the back of my neck.

  Otter Lake itself was just over a thousand acres. Most people would consider it a midsized lake—nothing special—but for those who lived here, it was just right.

  I killed the motor as I drifted in toward Grady’s dock. I inhaled deeply, taking in the faint smell of smoke from a campfire crackling somewhere nearby. In the sudden quiet, I could hear the lonely wail of a loon cry out in the distance. After a moment, its mate answered.

  This was the lake I wanted to come home to. It was the perfect night—the absolute perfect fall night to spend cuddled up under a blanket watching the stars with Grady. Now I just needed to clear my head, so that the twins weren’t under that blanket with us.

  I shuddered slightly at the image that popped into my head with that thought. No. No. No. It was time to stop thinking about Tweety, and Kit Kat, and the Mastersons. Even though something more was going on—Kit Kat had said as much—it wasn’t any of my business … probably. No! No, it wasn’t. Obviously, Kit Kat felt I should stay out of it—whatever it was—and she was probably right. Everyone had his or her own secrets … and maybe Mr. Masterson should be allowed to rest with his.

  I hopped out of the boat and tied it to the dock, giving it one last appreciative look. Not bad for secondhand. My mom’s last boat was involved in a small explosion during Freddie’s and my murder investigation. She probably could have scraped together enough money to buy a new one with the money she pulled in from the retreat, but my mother wasn’t overly interested in such things.

  I walked up the few stone steps to Grady’s place. Huh, he had a few mini chrysanthemum plants of his own in pots lining the steps. I hadn’t really thought of Grady being … domesticated, but I wasn’t complaining.

  I knocked on the heavy wood door of the modernized cabin, looking around at the trees as I waited for him to answer. It was a nice spot. He’d get the sunrise over the lake in the morning. Not a bad way to wake up … although I should probably try it out firsthand, just to be sure.

  I turned back to the door. No answer.

  I knocked louder. “Grady?”

  “I’m around back,” a voice called out.

  I hopped down from the porch and made my way around the side of the cabin. Once I caught sight of the back, my feet stopped moving and my eyes widened.

  Twinkle lights were, well, twinkling from the trees circling the crackling fire pit, and piles of thick pillows and blankets rested on low divan-type chairs underneath. A little off to the side stood a table with some plates, a few covered dishes, an ice bucket holding a bottle of white wine, and candles.

  My eyes darted around at all the wonderful … wonderfulness before they landed on Grady, who stood on the other side of the fire.

  “Grady!”

  “I know,” he said rocking a little on his heels, surveying his efforts.

  “This is…”

  “I believe the word you’re looking for is awesome.” He walked over to me, smiling, but stopped a few feet away. I don’t think either one of us knew how to handle this greeting. I mean we had had a lot of late-night phone conversations over the last month or so … covering a wide variety of … adult topics. But in real, face-to-face life, we had never even kissed. It was kind of like meeting an avatar in person.

  I cleared my throat. “How did you even manage to get this done? What with Mr. Masterson?”

  “I’ve had some time to prepare,” he said, once again surveying his work. “Our phone conversations left me with some pent-up energy.”

  I smiled. This was a pretty awesome start to our reboot. Grady and I really only knew each other as teenagers. I kind of liked this new adult thing we were trying on.

  “Oh my God,” I said, moving toward the fire. “Is that salmon? On a plank?”

  He nodded. “I got the recipe out of that magazine they give you at the liquor store. There’s some good stuff in there.”

  “You … you have some surprising layers, Grady Forrester,” I said, throwing him a smile. “Wait, this isn’t going to attract bears, is it?” Even though I had grown up on a lake surrounded by wildlife, some aspects of nature still freaked me out. Like bears. I lived on an island after all, an island without bears, and it’s not like they could swim. Wait, could bears swim?

  “I don’t really think bears cook their salmon,” he said, giving the idea an exaggerated look of consideration, “but I’ll keep an eye out.”

  I chuckled and planted my hands on my hips again. “This is really, really great.”

  Grady waved a hand to one of the piles of pillows he had placed around the fire pit. “Come sit. Let me pour you some wine.”

  “And wine!” I added with probably too much incredulity. “Not beer?” I picked a pillow and sat myself down.

  “I have some craft beer if you would like. I have matured some since you last lived in Otter Lake, Ms. Bloom,” he said, passing me a glass.

  “Of course,” I said with a serious nod. I knelt to the ground then leaned back into the pillows. “This almost makes everything else that happened today okay.”

  “Almost?” he said, shooting me a look. “What do I need to do to please you, woman?”

  My immediate response was Oh, you could do so many things, but I managed to keep a lid on my libido. “I’m sorry. I’m just a little overwhelmed.”

  “And how is the lovely Summer Bloom?”

  Truth was, I still was thinking about Kit Kat and Tweety, but I was glad for the opportunity to discuss something else. “Not talking.”

  He raised an eyebrow in question.

  “To anybody. She’s doing a vow-of-silence retreat.”

  Grady nodded. “And you find this to be?”

  I took a long sip of wine. “Slightly frustrating.” In fairness, I was wondering if my mother’s new counselor had bailed on her again. The retreat’s insurance required a certified professional for some types of counseling, but my mother had yet to find a good fit. My guess was you didn’t need a doctor to supervise people being quiet for extended periods of time.

  “Slightly frustrating?” Grady asked raising his eyebrows. “Look who else is all mature.”

  “Oh yeah, I’m more of a live-in-the-moment type of person these days. I’m all about mindfulness. The here and now is all that matters,” I said with what I hoped looked like a Zen nod. “But before I fully immerse myself in this now, what was all that with you and Freddie back at the fair?”

  Grady exhaled so heavily that it turned slightly into a growl. “After what happened in the summer, the town finds Freddie’s presence—” He paused to roll his jaw. “—reassuring.”

  “Really? I mean, Freddie said something to that effect, but I wasn’t sure if I should believe him.” I leaned forward to eye the salmon. “And you didn’t mention any of this on the phone.”

  Grady scratched his temple. “Yeah, I guess I thought there were better things for us to discuss. Besides, it’s really all about the boat.” His eyes had trailed off to some distant part of the forest. “Everybody just wants to stand on the dock and ooh and ahh over it,” he mumbled more to himself than me.

  “The boat?” I suddenly remembered that Freddie had made a comment about a boat. I watched the furrow between Grady’s eyebrows deepen. “You know, maybe we shouldn’t talk about boats,�
� I said. “Not when we have this beautiful spread before us.” I held my hands in a game-show-model gesture across everything Grady had prepared. Boats were a sore subject between us, especially considering his last one was blown up along with my mother’s.

  “Agreed,” he said, snapping his eyes back to mine. Wow, Grady this close, and full-on … was a lot of Grady. The blue eyes, the muscular jaw, the full lips; I had to catch myself from keeling over. He really was too good looking to be allowed to walk around without a warning. It was like gazing directly into the sun. “But I was thinking maybe you could talk to Freddie about toning it down a little?”

  I sighed and turned away. Man, the last time I had been in town Freddie had practically become a professional hermit. He kept all of his eccentricities indoors. Now he was like some sort of local celebrity. “I know Freddie can be a little … out there. But let’s not forget that he was raised by a team of nannies, and I think it’s left him with, you know, some acceptance issues. I can’t help but feel it’s a good thing that he feels like he belongs.”

  Grady made a halfhearted harrumph sound.

  “Besides, I not sure anyone can control Freddie.”

  “I’m not saying you have to control him,” he said, edging closer to me. “Just talk to him. Maybe ask him to remind people that he is not the law.”

  Whoa, Grady’s face was suddenly very close to mine. I swallowed. “He does want to work with you,” I tried.

  “Okay, well, the with might be a problem.” Grady leaned closer but tilted his head a little to the side to look at the fire. I could feel the heat of him on my cheeks. I could smell his aftershave and … testosterone. My lips were already imagining what his would feel like even though they were still inches away. “But maybe we could talk about Freddie and his plans for world domination later,” Grady said, turning back to face me.

  I nodded eagerly, moving half an inch closer. “We don’t even have to. It’s like I told Kit Kat … as far as I know, Freddie has no plans.” I closed my eyes to finally close the distance between our lips—and got air.

  I peeked an eye open.

  Grady had moved back a few inches and had a quizzical look on his face. “Why would Kit Kat care what Freddie was up to?”