Trick or Treat and Murder Read online

  Trick or Treat

  And

  Murder

  A Cozy Baked Murder

  by

  Kate Bell

  Copyright © 2016 by Kate Bell. All rights reserved. This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination, or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronically or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author or publisher.

  Other books by Kate Bell

  Apple Pie A La Murder,

  A Cozy Baked Murder, Book 1

  --1--

  When I got to the Halloween bazaar, I parked out front. We were using the United Methodist Church recreation hall because it was the largest building we could find available for tonight. Halloween was just over a week away, but it was on a school night, so the town council had decided we would hold the bazaar early.

  There were only two other cars in the parking lot when I got there. The sky was overcast, and I hoped we wouldn’t get rain. Rain would spoil the kid’s costumes. I opened the back driver’s side door and picked up the large envelope of vintage inspired cardboard cutouts I was going to decorate my booth with. I placed the envelope on the tray of candy apples and pumpkin hand pies I had made for the event. I could smell the cinnamon and cloves in the hand pies as I lifted the two boxes and inhaled, then slammed the car door shut with my hip. Fall was my favorite season, hands down. I loved pumpkin everything and the fall foliage in Maine was breath taking.

  I had spotted Diana Bowen’s SUV out front. She owned the flower shop that my friend Lucy Gray worked at, and she was also the bazaar organizer. Diana was nice enough, but she was one of those people that talked all the time and always took over conversations. Let’s just say, she got on my nerves sometimes.

  It was still early afternoon and I had arrived early to see if I could lend a hand with the decorations. I had to give Diana credit for having really good design ideas and I knew the recreation hall would be decked out nicely for this evening’s event.

  Most of the booths would be manned by local business owners. I didn’t own a business, but I had volunteered to bake pies and make my famous candy apples as a fundraiser. Vendors and contributors were responsible for decorating their own booths, so I had come prepared.

  I got to the hall door and tried to reach for the knob, but the boxes were too wide. I tried to maneuver them so I could get to the knob, but it didn’t work. I kicked the door with one boot clad foot and immediately did the ouchy wowy dance. That was a bad idea. I waited a minute to see if anyone had heard me.

  “I guess I have to do this myself,” I muttered and set the boxes gingerly down on the ground. I tried not to imagine germs jumping on the boxes and attaching themselves to the candy apples and hand pies.

  I opened the door and placed my hip against it, and bent to pick up the boxes. “There we go,” I said to myself and headed into the empty hall.

  I stopped and looked around. There were several bales of yellow straw and piles of pumpkins strategically placed around the hall. In one corner was a wooden painted picture of great big pumpkins and a scarecrow with a hole cut in the wood so people could stick their heads through it and have their pictures taken. On some of the booth tables there were red, gold and orange fall leaves scattered.

  A few black and orange streamers were hung along the ceiling and there was a helium tank with a bunch of black and orange balloons attached to it. A pile of unfilled balloons sat on the table next to the tank.

  The walls were lined with booths draped in either orange or black plastic table cloths with enough streamers to decorate each one stacked on top, ready for the booth’s occupant to get to work decorating.

  I had requested the booth near the front of the stage and was surprised when my request was granted. The one next to it was filled with fall flowers and trinkets that Diana sold in her shop, so I knew she had been here. But where was she now? I decided that she might have run back to the shop for something she had forgotten.

  The boxes were getting heavy and my arms were beginning to ache, so I made a beeline to my booth and set them down on the table. Picking up my streamers, I dug in my purse for the tape I knew I would need. Humming made me happy, and since I was alone, I indulged myself. Lucy said it was annoying, but what did she know?

  The steamers were cute as could be after I had them lightly twisted and draped around the top and front of the booth. I stood back to make sure they were draped evenly and was satisfied with my work.

  Next, I picked up the envelope of cutouts and worked on putting them on the front of the booth. I had ordered the cutouts online, and they gave me a warm feeling and reminded me of my childhood, going trick or treating back in Alabama. Each cutout had brightly colored orange and back characters. Kittens, puppies and a little witch and some pumpkins. It only took a few minutes, and I was done. I stepped back again, surveyed my work, and smiled. The cutouts were adorable and I decided I was going to have the cutest booth at the bazaar.

  With that done, I went around to the back of the booth and stepped through the opening that served as a door, and stopped. Someone was lying under the table of my booth. My first thought was, well, that’s an odd place to take a nap. Then I realized it was Diana. I froze, rooted to the spot. Her back was toward me, so I couldn’t see her face.

  With my heart pounding in my chest, I whispered, “Diana?” She didn’t make a move.

  I looked around to see if there was anyone else in the hall. I knew there wasn’t, but I could hope, right?

  “Diana?” I said louder.

  She still didn’t move. I felt in my pocket for my phone and pulled it out. Diana wasn’t taking a nap, and we needed an ambulance. She was lying very still. Maybe she had had a stroke? Or a heart attack?

  I took three steps toward her. I was getting a serious case of the heebie jeebies. She was lying so incredibly still. I knelt down near her and stretched my arm toward her, but I wasn’t close enough. I scooted my feet forward a few inches until I could touch the back of her neck. She was cold as ice.

  I jumped up and backpedaled until I was out the opening of the booth. My heart was pounding hard, and I took a deep breath. “Oh, my gosh,” I whispered. “Diana.”

  I dialed 911 and told the operator I thought there was a dead person at the Methodist Church recreation hall.

  After taking all of my information, she asked, “Did you check for a pulse?”

  “What? A pulse? No, she’s really cold. I don’t think there’s a pulse,” I said, biting my lip and keeping an eye on Diana. I didn’t want her to suddenly change her mind about being dead.

  “Is she breathing?” the operator asked.

  “Breathing? No. She’s dead,” I said, trying to keep my voice from cracking. My mind was spinning and I really just wanted someone to show up and handle things.

  “Are you certain?” she asked.

  “Listen lady, the only thing I’m certain of is that today is Saturday. Can you please send an ambulance? Or a policeman or something?” I said. I tried not to sound rude, but I didn’t want to touch Diana again and since she still hadn’t made a move or a sound, I was pretty sure she was still dead.

  The operator sighed loudly. “Fine, I’ll send the police and an ambulance. Don’t you move. You wait right there for them,” she ordered.

  “Fine, I’ll be right here,” I said and clicked my phone off before she could say anything else.

  Poor Diana, I thought.

  I backed farther away from her body and shivered. I looked around at the still e
mpty room. Why did I have to be the one that found her? Couldn’t there have at least been another witness somewhere nearby?

  I wandered over to Diana’s booth and took a look inside for something to do to keep from having to look at her body. Diana had the prettiest knick-knacks at her flower shop. She had brought several fresh flower arrangements for the raffle that would happen later that evening. If the bazaar was still on. Oh no, what if they canceled the Halloween bazaar?

  That would be a shame. Diana had brought a bowl of candy corn to give to the trick or treaters. I stepped all the way inside the booth and kicked something. What was that? I knelt down and reached under the table and pulled out a half eaten candy apple. Yuck. It was one of those cheap ones from the grocery store near the produce, with the super sweet red coating and finely chopped peanuts on it. I tossed it back on the floor. The red sticky coating had melted in the warmth of the room and I reached for a tissue from the box on Diana’s table and wiped my hands. Gross.

  I ran around to the front of my booth and got some hand sanitizer from my purse and squirted it onto my hands. The sound of sirens made me look toward the front door. Thank goodness.

  Before anyone could enter the building, I texted Lucy and told her to get over here, stat. She would be devastated. She had been very close to Diana.

  I heard the hall door swing open and I turned around to see who it was. Ellen Allen. Her green hair had been teased to stand on end and her nose ring twinkled under the lights of the recreation hall. It wasn’t a Halloween costume. Ellen always looked like that.

  “Hey Allie, I brought some cookies that my mom baked for the bazaar. That witch Diana isn’t around is she? I don’t want to run in to her,” she said and strode toward me with a huge platter of cookies stretched out toward me. She took long strides as she walked. Ellen was just over six feet tall and she could cover some ground when she needed to.

  I bit my bottom lip. Ellen had been fired by Diana a month earlier. Lucy told me it was because Diana had caught her stealing from the till. She would make a good murder suspect.

  “Uh, Ellen? I have some really bad news,” I started.

  “Do you hear all those sirens? Sounds like they’re getting closer,” she said, furrowing her forehead at me. She set the platter of cookies on my booth. “What bad news?”

  “Diana’s dead,” I said as the sirens got closer.

  Her eyebrows flew up, and I noticed a tiny stud on the end of one of them. “What?”

  “Dead. Diana’s dead,” I said. We both turned toward the door as the sirens stopped outside the building.

  She turned back toward me. “Stop foolin’ with me. I don’t want to run into her, so I have to get going.”

  “I’m serious,” I said, and pointed over the side of my booth.

  “Huh?” she said and leaned over the side of my booth to look. She was tall enough that she could see Diana without going around to the opening in back. “Wow. So she is.”

  She looked at me with just a hint of a smile on her lips.

  The hall door opened and Yancey Tucker and George Feeney walked through it.

  “We heard there was a body?” Yancey asked.

  “Yes, right over here,” I said, pointing to the general area where Diana was lying.

  Yancey stepped around the booth to the backside. He went into the booth and squatted down next to Diana’s body, and felt her neck for a pulse.

  I glanced over at Ellen.

  “Tragic,” she said.

  It was my turn for my eyebrows to fly up. I didn’t expect her to cry about it, but I thought she might show at least a little concern for her or her family.

  “Hey, Allie?” George asked as he peered over the side of my booth and watched Yancey.

  “Yes, George?”

  “Didn’t you discover Henry Hoffer’s body last month?” he asked, looking at me.

  “Uh, yeah, I guess I did,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him. He had better not get any ideas about me being involved.

  He stared at me without saying another word. I suddenly wanted to run away from that place. I felt bad about Diana, but I didn’t want to be a suspect again. The stress of it all was more than I could take. Ellen smirked at my obvious discomfort.

  The hall door opened again and Detective Alec Blanchard walked through it, taking long strides toward me. His mouth formed a hard line when he caught sight of me.

  “Allie,” he said, nodding at me. He glanced at Ellen, and then turned back to me.

  I pointed over the side of my booth and he leaned over just as Yancey popped up from his kneeling position. Detective Blanchard nearly jumped out of his skin and barely managed to suppress a girl-like scream.

  Ellen giggled and turned away. I’d like to say I didn’t laugh a little, but it would be a lie.

  The detective straightened his tie and ignored us. He cleared his throat and looked at Yancey pointedly.

  “Uh, sorry. Yeah, she’s dead. No pulse and her body’s cold.”

  I could hear an ambulance, siren blaring, arrive outside.

  “So, Allie, do you make it a habit of discovering bodies?” Detective Blanchard asked me.

  “No,” I said and shook my head. I had hoped we had developed enough of a friendship after the last murder for him to not assume that I might have had something to do with this one. It looked like I might have been wrong.

  --2--

  The church recreation hall door swung open and Lucy burst through it. “What did you want me down here for, Allie?” she asked, heading toward me.

  I sighed. It would have been nice if she could have been a little more subtle. I didn’t need Detective Blanchard thinking I had asked Lucy to come down here to help me do something crazy, like hide the body. Thankfully, I was the one that had called 911, so maybe that would work in my favor.

  “Ellen,” she said, wrinkling up her nose and pulling up short when she spotted her.

  “Lucy,” Ellen returned, with a curl of her lip.

  Lucy took the few remaining steps and stopped by my side and leaned over toward me. “What’s she doing here?” she whispered.

  I was pretty sure that Ellen was standing close enough to hear her. I saw her roll her eyes out of the corner of my eye.

  “Diana’s dead,” Ellen supplied. Then she gave Lucy a Cheshire cat grin.

  “What? What are you talking about?” Lucy asked, wide-eyed. She turned to me. “Allie, what is she saying? She’s lying, right?”

  “I’m afraid not,” I said and put a hand on her shoulder.

  “How do you know?” she asked with tears forming in her eyes.

  “She’s here in my booth,” I whispered.

  “Here? But that’s impossible! I saw her this morning! What happened to her? Oh, I can’t bear to look!” she said and fell into my arms.

  “I know, honey. I’m sorry,” I said and patted her back. Lucy had worked for Diana for nearly ten years and thought of her former boss as a sister.

  She sobbed on my shoulder and I looked at Alec, who was taking this all in. I hoped he realized there was no way I would kill someone so dear to my best friend.

  I caught Ellen rolling her eyes at Lucy again, and I wanted to kick her. She and Ellen had never gotten along and once Diana had caught Ellen stealing, Lucy completely washed her hands of her. I couldn’t blame her. Ellen was just a different sort of person. She was being so callous toward Diana’s death that it certainly had me wondering just how much she disliked Diana.

  Detective Blanchard turned to Ellen. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name?”

  “That’s because I didn’t give it,” she said and gave him a blank look. She was treading on thin ice. This was the man that could put her in an orange jumpsuit for a very long time.

  Alec narrowed his eyes at her and whipped out his trusty pen and notebook. “What is your name?”

  “Ellen Allen,” she said, blandly.

  “What? Ellen Ellen?” he asked, puzzled.

  “No!” She responded and h
uffed air out through her mouth. “Ellen Allen,” she said putting emphasis on her last name.

  Alec stared at her and I saw his jaw tighten. I didn’t think he liked Ellen much. That was fine, because not many people did.

  “Why don’t you come over to a nice quiet booth with me and answer some questions,” he said, tight lipped, and led the way.

  Surprisingly, Ellen followed without protest. That may have been a first for her.

  Lucy pulled back and looked me in the eye. “How did she die? She wasn’t in pain, was she?” Her voice trembled when she said it. The crying made her mascara look like Alice Cooper’s.

  “Oh, I don’t think so, honey,” I said and watched her dig in her purse for a tissue. The truth was, I had no idea. I hadn’t looked at her close enough to see if I could tell how she had died. I hoped it wasn’t violently. Diana may have been a big mouth, but she was a nice person.

  A vision of Henry Hoffer lying on his restaurant’s floor with a knife in his chest flashed in front of my eyes. I shuddered. Why did I have to be the one that found them?

  The EMT’s came in with a stretcher and stopped in front of my booth.

  “Too late fellas,” Yancey said. “We’ve called the coroner.”

  “Yeah?” Mel Toomey, one of the EMT’s asked.

  “Ayuh,” George said, nodding his head.

  “What happened?” Jack Staynor asked, peering over the side of my booth.

  “Dunno,” Yancey said. “Could be natural causes. Don’t see any signs of trauma, but then that would be for the medical examiner to decide.”

  “See?” I said to Lucy as she blew her nose on a used tissue she had finally fished out of her purse. “Natural causes.”

  “Oh, thank goodness!” she said, placing a hand over her chest. “I’m so glad.”

  “You and me, both,” I said. At least now no one could try to pin a murder on me. As long as the medical examiner verified it was natural causes, anyway.

  Mel and Jack leaned up against Diana’s booth and helped themselves to a handful of candy corn.