by Kate Bell
“Isn’t that Stanley?” I whispered to my mom.
She looked in the direction I was looking. “Yes, that’s Stanley all right. I haven’t seen him in years.”
“How old is he?” I asked.
“Well, if I remember right, he’s about six years older than you are. I’m not sure if he’s been back to Pumpkin Hollow since he graduated high school and went off to college, to tell you the truth.”
I looked at her. “Are you sure? How do you not come back and visit your parents in sixteen years?”
She shrugged. “I suppose he could have come back for brief visits, but I certainly haven’t seen him. Have you?”
I shook my head. “No, but I was gone a lot since high school. I had trouble even recognizing him. Maybe Stella and Vince went to visit him wherever he lives now.”
I thought it was odd for Stanley not to come home to visit his parents. It was also odd that he was sitting all the way at the end of the pew by himself. I wondered if he had a wife or children, but mostly I wondered why he didn’t sit near his father. I would have thought they would have wanted to comfort one another.
I continued looking around the room, wondering if Stella’s killer was here. Surely they wouldn’t have the nerve to show up at her funeral, would they? I saw Angela Karis sitting in the middle of the room, nine pews up from where we sat. She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue and kept her head bent low. And over on the right side of the room was Beth Ramirez, chatting to three elderly women, still smiling as always. If the killer was here, they were keeping a low profile. My eyes traveled over all of the mourners in the room, almost all of whom I knew. My imagination was working overtime as I came up with scenarios as to why each of these people might have wanted Stella dead.
Ethan had said the medical examiner had returned his report and just as he had suspected, Stella was shot in the chest with one bullet and died instantly. There was little else in the bakery to point to the killer and it worried me whether Ethan would be able to find her killer quickly.
“Mia, Ann,” I heard a voice from behind us. We both turned to look and saw Fagan Branigan standing behind us. He smiled and extended his hand to each of us in turn, and we shook.
“Hi Fagan,” Mom said. “It’s a terrible shame about Stella, isn’t it?”
He nodded. “I never liked her, but I sure didn’t expect to see her murdered. I guess now someone can take over her bakery and actually be a part of the Halloween season.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. It wasn’t appropriate to say that kind of thing at Stella’s funeral. “Maybe Vince intends to continue running the bakery?” I said. I only said it to needle him. Fagan owned the local costume shop and could be a pain.
The smile left his face. “It’s not like I meant anything by it,” he said. “But you have to agree with me that she never should have had a business over on the Halloween side of town.”
“I’m not saying I disagree,” I told him. “But I am saying that I don’t think something like that should be said at her funeral.”
“Point taken,” he said. “I guess I’ll go find a seat now.”
I nodded at him and we turned around to face the front again. “People need to keep their opinions to themselves, at least here at the funeral,” I whispered to my mother.
“It’s hard to change people’s opinions, even after death. It’s a shame that people felt that way, but I guess they can’t help the way they feel,” she whispered back.
I glanced at her. “So you agree with him?”
She shrugged. “I’m not saying I agree. I hope Vince will work harder and participate in the Halloween season. But, you’re right, this is not the time or the place for those kinds of discussions.”
The pastor of the church went to the podium and began the service. As he spoke, I looked around the room at all the people. I couldn’t imagine everybody in town disliked Stella or the church wouldn’t have been filled. I wondered again if her killer was present. I knew nearly everyone in the room and that bothered me if her killer was here.
I still hadn’t gotten around to speaking to the businesses on either side of the bakery, and I decided I would do that the next day. How could someone not have heard a gunshot? I thought Stella had to have known the killer well enough to let them into the bakery. Maybe they came into the bakery while it was still open and they stayed and talked with her awhile. That would mean that she had to have known them very well. I sighed. I hated the idea of Stella knowing who her killer was, but even worse was that she might have known they were getting ready to kill her.
Chapter Ten
I walked over to the Pumpkin Hollow Gift Shop to see if anyone remembered hearing anything the night Stella was killed. Polly Givens did a great job decorating her shop. The front windows were painted with a lively pumpkin scene and a black cat that resembled Boo sat next to a huge grinning jack-o’-lantern. She had set some large gift baskets just outside of her door that were decorated nicely with ribbons and silk flowers, ready to be filled with Halloween goodies.
I pushed the door open, the bell above the door jingling, and I took two steps inside, stopping to inhale the wonderful scent of cinnamon that hung in the air.
“Good morning, Mia!” Polly called from where she stood arranging wooden Halloween figurines on a shelf. Polly was a tall, thin woman with long black hair that was graying at the temples. She seemed to fit the Halloween theme of the town.
“Good morning, Polly,” I said. “You have one of the best smelling shops in all of Pumpkin Hollow. I love coming in here.” I walked over to a lovely display of different sized and shaped candles, picked up an orange one and held it to my nose, inhaling it. The pumpkin spice scent was wonderfully full and sweet.
“I just got a fresh shipment of candles in yesterday morning,” Polly said, coming over to stand beside me. “Here, you’ve got to smell this one. Butter pecan.”
I set the pumpkin spice candle down and took the creamy colored candle she held out to me. I held it to my nose, inhaled, and my mouth watered from the scent of butter pecan ice cream. “My goodness, I could just about eat this one. I just rented a cute little house on the other side of town and I think I’m going to have to get some of these candles to decorate with and make the place smell yummy.”
“I’m sure you can find something here that will make your house feel like a home. I also got some cute wooden signs in, and there are some black wrought iron candleholders too,” she said and took a step back as I continued looking over the candles.
“I think you’re going to get a lot of my paycheck this morning,” I said and chuckled. “This is why I try to stay away from here. I’ll spend all my money and won’t be able to pay the rent.”
She laughed. “Mia, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard that this season. Look what George did for me,” she said pointing up toward the ceiling.
I looked up to where she pointed and saw a huge black wrought iron chandelier that hung from the ceiling. From the large metal frame hung cute candles in crystal holders. Greenery hung on the arms of the chandelier and her husband George had threaded clear twinkling lights through it. “That is beautiful,” I said, admiring it. I needed something like that for my living room, but this was much too big and would overwhelm the space.
“I think I’m going to get this butter pecan candle, along with the pumpkin spice one,” I said and held the candle to my nose again. “Polly, it sure was a shame about what happened to Stella Moretti, isn’t it?” I turned toward her.
She nodded, and the smile left her face. “I can hardly believe it. With her being right next door I saw her every day, and we would stop and chat awhile whenever there was a lull in business.” She shook her head.
“I think it’s been a shock to the entire town,” I agreed. “Do you know what happened that night? Did you hear anything?”
“No, I didn’t hear a thing. We left the same time that night that we always do, right after six o’clock in the evening. I saw her car par
ked in front of her bakery still, but that wasn’t unusual. She always stayed late after closing to finish the cleanup of the bakery. One thing I can tell you for sure, she was very clean in how she ran her business. She never liked to leave any of it until the next day.”
I nodded. “I know she kept things immaculate in there. I remember when Hazel Martin accused her of not keeping a clean bakery, and I thought that was crazy. For as long as I can remember, Stella always kept the place very neat and clean.”
“That’s absolutely the truth,” she said sadly. “Even though we really didn’t see each other outside of work, I still considered Stella a friend. I know she could be kind of brisk in the way she spoke to people, but she really had a very soft heart. Take for instance, the fact that she hired Angela over there.” She shook her head. “Everyone knows that she and Vince had an affair years ago, but because she was down on her luck and had recently gotten divorced and was losing her house, Stella felt sorry for her and gave her a job. You wouldn’t have caught me doing something like that.”
“I heard about that,” I said and picked up a little wooden orange pumpkin with a tiny black cat sitting on the top of it. “I can hardly believe she was that nice, I don’t think there are many people who would do something like that.”
“Like I said, I certainly wouldn’t. I can’t imagine who would want Stella dead. And I wish I had stayed a little later that evening, maybe the killer wouldn’t have been so quick to go into her bakery and kill her, or maybe I would have noticed something unusual.”
“I think it’s normal to feel that way Polly, but don’t beat yourself up too much. I would imagine whoever did it knew what they were doing and waited until no one was around. At least, that’s what I imagine happened. No one in their right mind would have gone into a business to kill someone if they knew there were witnesses around.”
She folded her arms across her thin chest and nodded. “I know you’re right,” she said. “It just makes me sad is all.”
I nodded. “I think I’m going to take these candles and this sweet little wooden pumpkin and cat figurine,” I said and brought them up to the front counter. I looked around at everything there, and I wanted to get so much more, but now that I was paying rent I had to be careful with my money.
“I love these new little figurines,” she said as she rang it up on the cash register. “I think they’re a great addition to the shop and have such a cute vintage feel.”
“I love anything that’s vintage Halloween,” I said, agreeing with her. “And to top it off, I just found a cute black cat the reminds me of this one on the pumpkin.”
She chuckled. “I’ve got four cats myself and George says if I bring home one more cat, he’s going to kick me out.”
“Aren’t cats just the best?” I said. “Once I get started collecting cats, I may not be able to stop.”
“It’s an addiction,” she said and finished ringing up my items.
I ran my card through the card reader while she carefully placed my purchases into a vintage-look paper bag with rope handles.
“Well, here you go Mia, I sure do appreciate the business. And I enjoy seeing you and getting to chat for a minute. I’m going to go down to the candy shop and get some of your mom’s fudge later. It’s been on my mind and even though I did start a diet a couple of weeks ago, I’ve got to have some.”
“My mom’s fudge is too good to pass up isn’t it?” I said. Polly was thin as a rail and I couldn’t imagine her going on a diet. “Have a good day, Polly.”
“Oh, you better believe it,” she said and chuckled again. “You have a good day too, I’ll probably be seeing you later this afternoon.”
“Thanks, Polly,” I said and headed for the door. “I’ll talk to you later.”
I walked out into the sunshine and felt the crisp fall air on my cheeks. I inhaled deeply and could smell that someone nearby had a woodstove burning and I wished I had one for my little house. Oh well, I couldn’t have everything I guess.
The bakery was still dark when I walked by, so I continued to the florist shop on the other side of it. I figured they probably hadn’t seen anything either, but it was worth a shot.
Chapter Eleven
I pushed open the door to the Happy Hollow Florist shop and walked in, inhaling the scent of cinnamon and flowers. The florist shop sold some of the same items that the gift shop sold, and I wondered if that ever cause any friction between the two shop owners. There were two large glass-front refrigerators with fresh-cut flowers in them along one wall. On a table were candles and candleholders in different sizes, but not as large of a display as the gift shop had. For a moment I felt a little guilty carrying the bag from the gift shop in there, but I brushed the thought away.
Frankie Malone came out of the back room, smiling. “Oh, hello Mia,” she said, drying her hands on a white dishtowel. “I was just in the back making up some arrangements. How are you today?” Frankie was in her fifties and her brown hair was in done in a pixie cut.
“I’m doing fine,” I said, looking through the glass door into one of the refrigerated cases. “You sure have the cutest floral arrangements in here.” Almost everything in the refrigerated section was fall themed in cute vases with little pumpkins, ghosts, or black cats decorating them. Frankie really knew how to put great complementary flowers together.
“I’m glad you like them,” she said, coming around the counter to stand beside me. “Look at these, I just came up with this arrangement today.” She pointed at a Ball canning jar that she had wrapped the outside with orange raffia. Attached to the neck of the jar was a string of tiny felt black cats and jack-o’-lanterns. The flowers inside the vase were mums, dahlias, and sunflowers in yellows, oranges, and browns. It perfectly announced that fall had arrived.
“That is darling,” I said. It was really very cute, and I felt like I needed to buy it, but I had already spent money on myself. I could see where Frankie had a real gift for making up cute arrangements and I wished I had that ability.
“Were you looking for anything in particular?” she asked me. “I can make anything you’d like.”
“Not really, I was just in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop in and take a look at what you had. Actually, I really like that arrangement you just pointed out. I think I’ll pick it up for my mom. I can’t remember when the last time was that I bought her fresh flowers.” If I bought them for my mother, I could spend the money without guilt.
She reached into the refrigerated case and picked up the jar. “Let me take this up to the front counter for you, then. I’ve got to stop in and say hello to your mom, it’s been quite a while. And of course that gives me an excuse to pick up some fudge. But don’t tell my husband, otherwise, I have to share with him.”
I chuckled. “You don’t know how often I hear that.” I continued looking at the rest of the items in her shop. She had lots of cute decorative items that I was tempted to buy. I turned back to her. “Frankie, it sure was a shame to hear what happened to Stella Moretti, wasn’t it?”
Her eyes went to mine. “I still can’t believe it. I mean, somebody just walked right into her bakery and shot and killed her.” She shook her head sadly. “I don’t know what this town is coming to. I’ve always felt so safe here, but lately, not so much. It makes me afraid to be in my shop alone. I hope the police catch the killer soon.”
“I know what you mean, but I know the police are working overtime to find the killer.”
“I heard you and Ethan Banks were dating. He’s a good guy,” she said with a smile.
I smiled and moved over to the front counter. “Thank you, he is a good guy and I’m pretty happy we’re dating, too.”
“Stella is going to be so missed around here. I can’t believe how many arrangements I made up for her funeral. I tried to make them extra special in her honor,” she said, frowning. “It’s just so unfair that her life was cut short.”
“It’s hard to believe,” I agreed, shaking my head. “It’s Heartb
reaking.”
She nodded and smiled sadly. “Is this going to do it for you?” she asked me.
“I think so,” I said glancing around, then turned back to Frankie. “Did you hear anything that night? The night Stella died? Did you see anything unusual?” I was hoping she had something to add about what happened that night, but I was beginning to think no one really saw or heard anything.
She shook her head. “Not a thing. That’s what’s so puzzling. I mean, if someone was going to come in and try to kill somebody, then you’d think they would be hanging around outside to make sure that the coast was clear before they did it. Wouldn’t somebody see something?”
“It’s hard to say how a murderer thinks,” I said and ran my debit card through the card reader to pay for my flowers. “But they’ll mess up somewhere. Someone has to know something.”
She nodded. “I’m sure you’re right.”
I was a little disappointed that neither Polly nor Frankie had seen or heard anything suspicious, and I hoped Ethan was making some progress on finding the killer.
Chapter Twelve
When I walked out of the florist shop and passed the Sweet Goblin Bakery, I saw that lights were on inside. I turned back and tried the doorknob. It turned easily, and I pushed the door open, sticking my head inside. Singing came from the kitchen and the sound sent chills down my spine as I imagined for a moment, Stella standing in her kitchen whipping up a batch of cupcakes. I shook the thought off and went inside, heading to the doorway that led to the kitchen.
Standing in front of an open cupboard and peering inside was Angela Karis. Her short Dorothy Hamill style blond hair moved with her swaying as she sang. The tune was unrecognizable. I cleared my throat, and she turned around quickly to see who had invaded the kitchen.
“Well, hello Mia,” she said, smiling. “You startled me.”
