“The very same. It looks like he’s having a terrible Halloween. Serves him right, if you ask me. We’re all exhausted. None of us wanted to be here all day,” Millie whispered, as she accepted my money. “You two have fun. Try not to get into any trouble.”
“No promises,” Bee said, as she tucked into a roast potato.
3
Franklin Smith’s house stood out like a sore skeletal thumb—now, that usually would have been an insult from me, but since it was Halloween, it meant quite the opposite. The man, who had worked at the local post office for years, had gone all out. His house was covered in spooky lights, ones that glimmered and cast their eerier glow on the houses, identical brick-faced buildings, either side of it.
“Goodness,” Sam said, as we approached, still full from all the delicious treats at the Halloween fair. “Look at this place. And I thought I had decorated the guesthouse nicely. Looks like I stand no chance at winning the competition this year, after all.”
“Nonsense,” Bee said. “The guesthouse looks way spookier than this.”
But, privately, I had to agree with Sam’s sentiment. I wasn’t well-acquainted with Franklin, he had probably been to the truck once or twice in the past week, but he’d never struck me as the decorating type. He’d been downright mean and closed-off the last time I’d seen him. But I had to give him credit where it was due. The house looked amazing.
And it was even creepier and cooler once we got inside. He’d put out blood-red candles and spooky masks. There were Jack-O-Lanterns and spider webs hanging from the walls and in the corners. The house brimmed with people in their costumes.
The most popular one this year, it seemed, was the clown from It, and it gave me the chills. There were so many variations of a mean clown, evil clown, and bloody-mouthed clown, it was hard to keep track of who everyone was.
“Welcome, welcome,” Franklin said, appearing in a clown costume, as well. He was recognizable only by his bulbous nose and slightly stained teeth. And because he walked through the house with his chest puffed out. “Thank you so much for coming. There’s punch in the living room, as well as food on the buffet table. Be sure to mention how much you enjoyed the party to the mayor when he comes by. And how much you love the decorations, of course. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go find Emmaline.”
“Thanks,” I said, but Franklin had already moved off.
“Great host,” Bee muttered.
I nudged her in the ribs, and we wandered into the living room. I grabbed a few cups of non-alcoholic punch and handed them out. It was tempting to stand against the wall, trying to figure out who everyone had come as, but Sam drew loads of attention in her awesome knight costume. Soon, we were surrounded by a gang of clowns and witches and vampires, chatting and admiring her.
“I love this fabric,” one of the clowns said, grabbing hold of the thick cloak that hung around Sam’s shoulder. The clown’s voice was familiar, and I frowned, trying to place it. It was female, light and airy. “Where did you get this?”
“I made it myself,” Sam said.
“Well, that’s just—”
“Interfering again, are you, Franny?” a second clown asked—this one was large and overbearing, with a belly that stretched the fake blood-stained front of his shirt. “As is your way.”
“Excuse me?” the female clown bobbled her head, releasing Sam’s cloak.
Sam immediately stepped back, placing distance between her and the two clowns. A few of the other costumed partygoers gathered around, watching from behind masks or makeup. This was the way of small towns, most specifically of Carmel Springs: People were inquisitive. And they always had time for a fight.
“You heard what I said.” The big clown put his fists on his hips.
“Who are you?”
The clown removed his fake nose and glared at her.
“Gregory Michaud,” Franny, the female clown said, tapping her oversized shoe on the carpeting. “What are you doing here? I thought you and your sister didn’t attend parties. Too poor, is what I heard.”
My eyes widened. That was mean. Sam had shrunk back further and we did the same, watching from afar. The voices of the two clowns were so loud, we couldn’t get far off enough to avoid being witnesses to the argument.
“You stay away from me, Franny, and you stay away from my sister.”
“Oh, please,” Franny said, honking her nose. “You just moved to town a few days ago, don’t try to come off as the martyr now. We both know that you only came for one reason and one alone.”
“And what’s that?” Gregory folded his puffy-sleeved arms. “This ought to be good.”
“Money.”
A few of the onlookers gasped. One of the vampires took a long, noisy slurp from its punch glass.
“How dare you,” Gregory said. “You have no idea… you—you—”
Franny barked a laugh. “What’s wrong, Greggie? Cat got your tongue? Seems you’re not that smooth when there’s no cash to lubricate your tongue.”
“Good heavens. Who are these people?” Bee asked.
“The big clown,” Sam whispered, as the argument continued, “is Gregory Michaud. He lives next door to Franklin, and he’s new to town. He moved into his sister’s house last week. Theresa. She’s such a sweetheart.”
“Wait, Theresa? She was the one who was at the truck this morning. She had an argument with a clown over a cookie.”
“Who knew that was a sentence you’d say?” Bee took a sip of punch.
“The clown,” Sam said, pointing to the smaller of the two, “is Franny Clark. She’s Theresa’s sworn enemy.”
“Sworn enemy?” Bee asked, raising a silver eyebrow. “What is this, a range war?”
“Well, it would be if Theresa and Franny lived next door to each other. But they don’t,” Sam continued. “Apparently, the whole argument started years ago, when Franny stole Theresa’s husband.”
“Whoa. Really?” I asked.
“Yes, though, wait, no… I remember there being something before that. Oh yeah! In high school, Franny pulled a Carrie on Theresa when she was named prom queen.”
“Pulled a Carrie?” I asked.
“That means she dumped pig’s blood or something all over her,” Bee said.
“Oh, disgusting.”
Sam put up a finger. “Except it wasn’t pig’s blood. It was just red paint.”
“Good heavens.”
A shout rang out from the arguing clowns. “You stay away from my sister!” Gregory poked Franny on the shoulder then spun on his heel and strode off.
Franny rolled her eyes. “Well, that was fun.” She gave a sour little laugh then walked off into the crowd, going in the opposite direction to Gregory.
“Goodness,” Bee said. “I had no idea people here had time to be sworn enemies.”
“Are you kidding?” Sam asked. “Carmel Springs is renowned for its Halloween festival and its sworn enemy duos. There were even famous ones, you know. The Giggler and the Misfit. They came from Carmel Springs.”
I tilted my head to one side.
“You haven’t heard of them?” Sam asked as the music started up in the living room. Clowns and masked strangers cried out, laughed and clapped their hands, dancing along.
“The Giggler?” I asked.
“Correct. The Giggler and the Misfit. That’s what they were known by back in the 20s. There’s even a statue of them in the center of town. Basically, they were the first dueling sworn enemies in Carmel Springs. Legend has it, they fought over a lobster fishing boat. The Giggler wanted the boat, the Misfit stole it from him.”
“And then what happened?” I asked.
“They declared themselves enemies and dueled to the death,” Sam said, taking a slurp of her punch, “using feathers.”
“Huh?”
“Well, they didn’t actually die. It was a term they used for effect. The terms of the duel were that the first person to laugh lost the boat. The Giggler laughed first, the Misfit won
the boat, and ever since then, Carmel Springs has had a rich history of sworn enemies.”
“Wow.” What else could I say? I could hardly make sense of it. “So, um, this Franny and Theresa the vampire are carrying on the trend?”
“Correct,” Sam said. “Though, I don’t think they’ll be using the feather duel any time soon. Those two ladies don’t go anywhere near each other. Theresa runs the Tea and Cookies Enthusiasts Club and Franny’s in charge of the Reading Club.”
Before I could ask Sam for more detail, a masked matador swept me onto the dancefloor and twirled me around. I would’ve been embarrassed, but the spirit of laughter, dance and fun were thick on the air, and I enjoyed it instead.
After all, it had been such a struggle getting folks in Carmel Springs to accept us. This felt good, even with a pratfall of killer clowns watching my every move.
“What a night.” I locked the food truck in front of the guesthouse.
Sam stood in front of it, clutching her cloak around herself in the cold, and Bee made a humming noise under her breath, sound a little too much like the namesake she was dressed as.
“I need a good cup of coffee before bed,” Bee said.
Sam gave her an odd look.
“Bee likes to think that coffee makes her drowsy,” I said. “It’s one of her tamer quirks.”
We trudged up the front steps of the guesthouse, the candles burning low in the lanterns, now, and Sam unlocked the front door. There weren’t too many people staying at the Oceanside this week, but those that were had their own keys to get in and out.
The hall was warm, and Trouble the kitten meowed and leaped off the reception desk, his yellow eyes glowing and his tail poker straight. He purred and wound between Samantha’s legs then rubbed up against the edge of my Sherlock Holmes coat.
“It’s good to be home,” Sam said. “We’re going to need all the rest we can get.”
“What for?” Of course, Bee and I would be out on the beach serving up our creepy cakes, but why would Sam need the rest?
“Halloween in Carmel Springs is an all-weekend event. Tomorrow’s Friday. There will be another night of carnival rides and trick or treating. And after that, there’s the banquet at the town hall. And, oh, of course, I’m having an invitation-only event of my own, as well. There will be plenty of parties too.”
“You sure know how to celebrate,” I said.
Sam grinned. “We do. But, if you don’t mind, ladies, I’m going to take Trouble upstairs. We need our beauty sleep.”
“Ditto,” Bee said.
But I wasn’t tired yet. “I think I’ll have a cup of cocoa before bed.”
We said goodnight, and I hurried upstairs to change into my slippers and fix myself a cup of hot cocoa. I came back down and sat out on the back porch, huddling in one of the comfy blankets Sam left out for the guests who liked to admire the view.
There was a lovely one now—the moon hanging over the ocean, the sky cloudless and inky black. Moonlight glimmered along the white sands and highlighted the craggy rocks to the far right. I sipped my cocoa, swilled the warm deliciousness around my mouth then swallowed.
Two figures appeared on the beach. They walked along together then stopped then started walking again. One of the figures raised their arms and gestured. The other backed away, folding its arms, from what I could tell. Then they started walking again. The pattern continued until they disappeared from sight, and I frowned. What on earth had that been about?
I shook my head and dismissed it. It was Halloween—the spooks had gotten to me. Carmel Springs was pretty safe and people walking along the beach together was a normal thing.
Still, the strange question marks remained in my mind until the cocoa was finished, and I was sleepy enough to go up to bed.
4
Bee and I had opted not to wear a second set of costumes for the next day of the Halloween celebrations, but it seemed we were the only ones. We’d pulled up on the beach that morning to find ghouls, ghosts, and vampire slayers waiting to buy treats.
Folks took the celebrations seriously in Carmel Springs. But it was kind of nice, if I was honest, to think that there was such a sense of community in the town.
“Happy Halloween,” the first customer said, as she accepted her green and pink striped box.
“And to you.” I waved and dusted off my apron.
It was still early, and the morning customers who liked to pop in before they hurried off to work were gone. We’d have a reprieve of about fifteen to twenty minutes before the new set of customers arrived.
“Here you go.” Bee handed me a hot cup of coffee. “On the house.”
“Can I get one of those cupcakes on the house too?” Not exactly the healthiest breakfast around, but it sure was delicious.
“Would you like the spider topped cupcake or the one with the skeleton? Or a black cat?”
“Black cat will do just fine,” I said.
Bee handed one over, and I immediately peeled back the paper and tucked into it, relishing the sugary, buttery goodness of the frosting. Bee had one too and we ate our cupcakes, sipped our coffees, and studied the shoreline.
It was a cloudy day but glimmers of sunlight broke through every now and again and played across the ocean. This view was a treat and I could appreciate it now more than ever thanks to the fact that business was finally back on track.
Bee yawned behind her coffee cup. “I’m too tired to function today. All that Halloween excitement was too much for me.”
“You’d better get used to it. According to Millie, there are loads of festivities lined up. And did you see the way that vampire slayer looked at me? Clearly, we should have remained in costume for today.”
“There’s no way I’m dressing up as a bee two days in a row.”
“Why not? I thought it was cute.”
“And sweaty,” Bee said. “And I keep knocking into things and getting stuck in doorways. Besides, the joke’s over. It was cute for one day, but for two? That’s just gratuitous comedy.”
“Heavens, I didn’t know you were a joke snob.”
“You learn something new every day,” Bee chuckled.
She was right about that. I had learned something new about her every day since we’d started working together, probably because I’d known so little about her to start with. Bee’s background was still a mystery to me, and I wasn’t one to pry.
We finished off our coffees and readied ourselves for the next set of customers.
A flash of something on the ocean caught my attention, and I searched for it. But no, there was nothing there. Just my imagination. For a second, I’d been sure there had been a black thing floating in the water.
Head in the game, Ruby. You’ve got sales to make and a life to enjoy in Carmel Springs.
The customers arrived in drips and drabs at first, but the crowd of folks seeking out their morning sugar rush soon swelled around the front of the food truck.
Coffees, cupcakes, and treats were served, money was tendered, and people left happy. The ebb and flow of food and customers were interrupted by a shrill screech. And then another. And another.
The cries hadn’t come from the gulls now gathering near the benches, but from the people nearest them.
“What’s going on?” a man called out.
Another shriek rent the air and then the crowd parted enough to give me a brief glimpse of the water and the beach.
My heart fluttered.
“Not again,” I whispered.
“What is it?” Bee nudged closer, holding a customer’s half-filled coffee cup. Not that it mattered, just about everyone had turned from the truck to stare at the beach.
“It’s a body,” I said. “Another dead body.”
And indeed, on the pale sand lay the corpse of… a vampire.
5
“Everyone stay back. Stay back! This is officially a crime scene.” Detective Jones stood where the overlook petered off into the long sandy trail that led to the beach.
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The police had already set up a line to cordon off the area, and the body had been shielded from view. Naturally, the crowd of onlookers around the food truck had doubled—news traveled fast in Carmel Springs.
Another murder. And on the beach right in front of our truck.
“He can’t pin it on us this time,” Bee said, placing a hand on my back. “Don’t worry, Rubes.”
“I know, but still.” I gave her a look, my face cold likely because I’d gone pale. “Another murder. Here. And we witnessed it again.”
“Not technically witnessed it.” Bee sighed and walked to the coffee pots. She poured steamy, life-giving liquid into two cups and brought them over. “Look on the bright side, at least this time they weren’t killed with your marzipan.”
I shuddered at the thought—in the short while we’d been in town, we’d had our fair share of brushes with murder. “I wonder who it is. How terrible.”
“Really unfortunate, isn’t it?”
“I feel bad for the people in this town. They can’t catch a break.”
Bee snorted. “It’s got me thinking … just what kind of murder town did we come to?”
I pinched Bee’s elbow. “Things happen. It’s not like the town is inherently evil.”
“Hmm. Maybe it’s cursed.”
“Maybe you’ve been reading too many spooky stories.” I’d caught her asleep in an armchair in her suite, a spooky horror book propped open on her chest.
“It’s Halloween,” Bee whispered. “I’m allowed to enjoy a little pulse-pounding fiction.”
“Except you’ve got dark circles under your eyes,” I said. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. I’m just worried about you. You’re my star baker and my friend. I hate seeing you tired and cranky.”
Bee’s frown broke, and she offered me her signature gap-toothed grin, instead. “Fine. You wore me down. I’ll cut back on the scary stories, but that doesn’t change things.”
“What do you mean?”
Bee nodded to Detective Jones who stood with his fists on his hips, talking to one of the bystanders—one of our customers who held a Bite-sized Bakery Box in trembling fingers.
Bite-Sized Bakery Cozy Mysteries Box Set Page 19
