A Catered Halloween (4 page)

B
ernie looked at the three pumpkins she’d just carved to put in front of the shop’s doorway. The first looked like a witch, the second looked like a cat, and the third one she’d carved into the shape of a goblin, complete with a wart on her nose.
Thank heavens for how-to books
, Bernie thought. What did people ever do before them? She removed her apron and dusted off her shirt. Black parachute silk and powdered sugar definitely didn’t mix. But at least for once she hadn’t gotten any pumpkin glop on her clothes.

She looked over at her sister, who was working away in jeans, a flannel shirt, and a T-shirt. Libby’s clothes made more sense, especially when one was dusting powdered sugar on apple bars, but Bernie could never bring herself to wear outfits like that. What was the point? They were boring. And she had a reputation to uphold. People expected her to dress impractically now. It was part of who she was.

Bernie brushed a speck of powdered sugar off her black Dolce & Gabbana pants and checked her shoes
for smudges. They were black suede and three inches high. Definitely not made for the kitchen, but she wasn’t planning on being here for much longer. She had stuff to do for her dad.

“I’m going now,” she said.

“I can see that,” Libby told her sister, but her eyes remained focused on the pie dough she was rolling out. She’d done six pumpkin pies already and she had six more to go for the Haunted House. Her pumpkin pies always went fast. Maybe that was because she started out with real pumpkin puree instead of the canned stuff. The color was prettier, and the flavor and texture more delicate.

“Do we need anything?” Bernie asked.

Libby stopped for a moment and thought. “A couple of gallons of cider and some red food dye. I want to make two more batches of devil cookies for the display case. Everyone seems to be enjoying them. And if you’re stopping by Sam’s Club, we could use some more chicken breasts for our red ginger chicken.”

“But I got some yesterday,” Bernie protested.

“We don’t have any left.”

“Have you looked in the cooler?”

Libby went back to rolling. “Check if you don’t believe me,” she told her sister.

Bernie repositioned her bobby pin to stop her bangs from falling in her eyes. That was the problem with letting your hair grow in. It just went every which way. But, on the other hand, it did hide her crow’s-feet. “We sold that much?”

Libby shrugged. “It would seem so.”

Maybe they had, Bernie thought. Or maybe someone was stealing the chicken. Except she couldn’t believe that Googie or Amber would do something like that. Shrinkage was a definite problem in their busi
ness, but Googie and Amber had been with them for years.

“We should keep better track of our inventory,” Bernie said.

“Yes, we should,” Libby agreed.

Bernie realized that they had this discussion every six months or so, and nothing ever came of it.

“And I vote that you be the one to do it. And be back by three-thirty,” Libby added. “Don’t forget, we have to be serving by five-thirty at the Haunted House.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Bernie said. “I don’t think this talk will take that long.”

At least she hoped it wouldn’t. She was going to talk to Felicity Huffer, who used to work as a proctor at the Peabody School. Bernie had spoken to Felicity’s daughter earlier this morning and been told that Felicity lived in the Pine Bough Manor, a residential home for older adults. Now there was a euphemism if ever Bernie had heard one.

“I told her she could stay with me,” Felicity’s daughter had said. “But she doesn’t want to. I’m sure she’ll be happy you’re coming. She loves talking to people, and I can’t get up there until later in the evening. In fact, I’ll call her now and make sure it’s all right. Sometimes she gets a little grumpy.”

“Don’t we all,” her dad had said when Bernie told him what Felicity’s daughter had said. “Of course, if I remember correctly, she always was a bit irascible,” he’d added.

“Maybe you should go,” Bernie had told him. “After all, you’re the one that suggested this.”

Her dad had waved the suggestion away. “She always liked your mom better than me. In fact, she never liked me at all.”

Bernie was wondering why Felicity Huffer hadn’t
liked her dad when her sister put down her rolling pin and wiped her hands off on her flannel shirt.

“So,” Libby asked her sister, “are we really going to do this?”

“Investigate Amethyst’s death?”

“I’m not talking about baking cookies.”

“Yes, we are.”

“Why?”

“I figure Dad’s done enough for us. Maybe we should return the favor.”

“I guess you’re right,” Libby said doubtfully as she tugged at her bra.

“I know I’m right, and your sisters are still lopsided,” Bernie informed her.

Libby tugged on her left bra strap a little more. “Better?” she asked Bernie.

Bernie nodded. “You need new bras. In fact, you need new everything.”

“After Halloween,” Libby said. “When I have a little more free time.”

“Why do you hate to shop?”

“Why do you like to shop?” Libby countered, and she turned back to her pumpkin pies.

On the way out, Bernie stopped and had Amber pack her up a box of pumpkin chocolate chip cookies for Felicity.

“You know,” Amber said as she taped the box shut, “you ought to make sure someone isn’t doing a remake of Michael Myers’s
Halloween
at the Haunted House. Maybe there’s this homicidal maniac hiding in one of the rooms, with a chain saw, just waiting for you to arrive. You should keep your cell phone out just in case.”

This,
Bernie thought,
is what happens when someone watches too many horror movies.

“If we get diced up, you’ll be the first one I’ll call,”
Bernie promised as Amber handed her the box full of cookies. “In fact, I’ll leave my cell on so you can hear every bloodcurdling scream. Now go wait on Mrs. Stein.” And with that, Bernie walked out the door.

She stood in the street for a moment and took a deep breath. It was one of those glorious late fall mornings. The air smelled spicy—like cinnamon and cloves. The sun was still warm, and the leaves remaining on the trees were crimson and gold. Most of the houses on the other side of the street had decorations in their windows: there were witches and goblins and black cats. There were tombstones in the yards. There were jack-o’-lanterns on people’s porches. In a week the street would be full of parents and children in costume knocking on doors and yelling, “Trick or treat!”

Halloween had been her favorite holiday when she was little. She still remembered her best costume ever. Her mom had made it, and she thought it was the prettiest costume she’d ever seen. It was a blue taffeta dress with a sparkly sash and pale blue wings and a wand. And she’d had a crown on her head and ruby slippers on her feet. She’d gone as Glynda the Good Witch from
The Wizard of Oz
, and she’d gotten so much candy, the pillowcase she’d carried was half full by the time her dad made her come home.

Halloween was still her favorite holiday. Every year she and Libby opened A Little Taste of Heaven and stood in the doorway and gave out homemade candy and cookies. They labeled every bag they gave away so parents would know where the treats had come from, which the parents seemed to agree with. Otherwise, they’d have to serve the prepackaged stuff, which would be a shame.

Bernie sighed. It was a pity that they wouldn’t be able to do that this year, but they wouldn’t be at the
shop; they’d be serving at the Haunted House. She’d definitely miss seeing the little kids come parading by, but what could she do. Mark was paying them well, and they needed the money, although she wasn’t sure that any amount of money could compensate for what she and Libby had seen last night. Whenever she closed her eyes, she could see Amethyst’s head rolling down the stairs. She could still hear the bump, bump, bump that it had made.

Bernie shuddered and tried to think of something else, but she couldn’t. The image was fixed in her mind. She kept wondering how it had been done. The person couldn’t have used a chain saw. That would have made too much noise. So maybe the weapon was an axe. Which meant someone might have found it on the premises. Or someone could have brought it in. It was really impossible to know.

Or someone could have used a fiber-optic laser beam. She’d just seen someone cut glass with one a few weeks ago. Of course, things would be clearer when the coroner did the postmortem. From what Clyde had told her dad, it was scheduled for tomorrow.

She hadn’t looked closely enough to see if the cuts on Amethyst’s neck were smooth or jagged. She’d been too shocked. Of course, if she didn’t want to wait for the PM, she could always ask Marvin to find out. His dad would know since both parts of Amethyst’s body were resting in his funeral home. Bernie took another deep breath and got in the car. Maybe Amber and Libby were right, Bernie thought as she started up her vehicle. Not that she would let either of them know that. Maybe she and Libby shouldn’t go back. Maybe there was some crazy person there, waiting to claim another unsuspecting victim, although that was not what her father thought.

If he did, he would never have allowed them to go back there, no matter what the circumstances. And he was usually right about these kinds of things. Thirty years in law enforcement had given him pretty good instincts. It was a thought Bernie consoled herself with as she drove over to see Felicity Huffer.

The lobby of the Pine Bough Manor was practically deserted when Bernie walked in. There was a small cluster of people gathered around a bulletin board, and she could hear the tinkle of music and someone exhorting everyone to “breath in and out and focus on letting your energy go out into the world.”

A vision of people walking their energy on leashes became lodged in Bernie’s mind. She shook her head to clear it and looked around. There was a fountain over by the far wall, with some goldfish swimming in the pond by the base. The dining room stood off to the right.

Three large ficus trees stood in pots over by a large picture window. The floor was carpeted in a pale green tweed, while the furniture was covered in light tans. As Bernie approached the reception desk, she decided the place reminded her of the lobby of a moderately priced hotel.

The woman at the reception desk smiled when Bernie asked for Felicity, and pointed over to the sofa in the back of the room. “She’s waiting for you,” the woman said. “She’s very excited. In fact, I believe she has something to give you.”

Bernie wondered what it was as she made her way over to the sofa she’d been directed to. At first, she didn’t notice anyone there, and then she saw a small, kid-sized figure dressed in beige. It wasn’t until she got
closer that she realized that the figure must be Felicity Huffer. If she were taller than four feet eight, Bernie would have been surprised.

Felicity turned as she heard Bernie approaching and smiled. “You’re Rose’s daughter, aren’t you?” she asked in a voice that seemed way too loud for the body it was coming out of.

Bernie allowed as how she was.

Felicity patted the space next to her. “Sit,” she said.

Bernie sat.

“Your mother was a dear woman. Very refined. And an excellent cook. I understand you and your sister have inherited her ability,” said Felicity.

“I hope so,” Bernie said.

Felicity pointed to the box of cookies Bernie was holding. “Are those for me?”

“Yes. Of course. They’re pumpkin chocolate chip cookies from our shop, A—”

Felicity cut her off. “I know the name. Even though I’m ninety, I haven’t lost my mind. Though there are those that would like to think so,” she finished darkly. “I’m sure the staff will like them. I can’t digest anymore,” she explained. “I exist on a diet of rice, bananas, and bread.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Bernie told her.

Felicity waved her words of sympathy away. “It doesn’t really matter. At my age, everything tastes the same to me, anyway. So my daughter tells me you want to hear about the Peabody School.”

Bernie nodded. She didn’t think she’d ever seen anyone this thin before. It was as if she was looking at an anatomy illustration. For the first time, she actually understood what the term
skeletal-looking
meant.

“Your mother was heartbroken about what happened to Bessie, you know,” Felicity said.

“She never talked about it to me.”

“I’m not surprised. She was a woman who liked to keep unpleasant things to herself. It was a big tragedy,” Felicity said. “Bessie was a good girl. Studious too. She could have done something with herself. Not like some other people I could name.” Felicity frowned.

“So what happened?” Bernie asked.

“She went out the window. I was the one that found her.” Felicity’s voice trembled slightly. “Terrible. Truly terrible. The windows were very low. Almost French windows. All you’d have to do is lean out of them to fall. One push and there you’d go. It wouldn’t even take much. Of course, some people say she jumped. Others say she fell, that what happened was an accident. But I don’t believe that for a moment. I didn’t then, and I don’t now. I think she was killed. I think she was killed out of spite and jealousy.”

As Bernie leaned forward to better hear what Felicity was saying, she caught Felicity’s musty scent: dry, brittle paper mixed with the aroma of lavender water.

“So you know who killed her?” she asked.

Felicity put her hand up and coughed into it. “I know, but I never told anyone.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” she said when she was done coughing, “I could have lost my job.”

“How so?” Bernie asked.

“Well, I didn’t have any proof, you see. And the girl’s family was very rich, very powerful.” Felicity paused for a moment. “I needed that job. If I had lost it, I don’t think I could have gotten another one. Some people think that Zinnia was the one, but even if she was, it was Amethyst that put her up to it. She was a bad seed. I know it’s not fashionable to use that expression anymore, but it’s true. That’s why she was there,
you know. Because her parents were afraid of her. Her mother told me that in one of her visits. Sweet woman, too. Imagine being afraid of your own child. But things happened when Amethyst was around. Bad things.”