Candy Coated Murder Read online

  As we stood there, the tall blond police officer looked in our direction. He said something to one of the other policemen and headed in our direction. I kept my eyes on him, unsure of what I should do in a situation like this. I was having trouble taking in what had happened.

  “Good evening,” the officer said, nodding at my mother and then at me. He smiled. “Mia Jordan?”

  I squinted, trying to place him. Then it hit me. “Ethan Banks?”

  He nodded. “It’s been a long time.”

  “It has,” I said, not knowing what to do with this information. Ethan was taller and had broader shoulders than I remembered. His face had also matured. Gone was the baby face, now replaced by a man’s face. A handsome man’s face. Not that I noticed.

  Ethan and I had gone to school together. With his blond hair, blue eyes and boy-band good looks, he had been the cutest and most popular boy throughout junior high and high school. When he walked by, girls swooned. He was a teenage girl’s dream come true. Except for this teenage girl. Ethan Banks had been a bit of a jerk as I recalled. I had never liked him after he teased me about having spiders in my hair in the seventh grade. It wouldn’t have been so bad, but he did it in front of thirty other kids and I spent the rest of the year having kids flip my hair and yell “Spider!” when they walked by. It had been traumatizing.

  “How have you been?” he asked. “I haven’t seen you since graduation.”

  "I’m good. I’ve been away to college in Michigan,” I answered. I really didn’t want to get reacquainted, but I wasn’t sure I would have a choice in the matter.

  “College? Still?” he asked. His brows furrowed in confusion.

  Yeah, I got that all the time.

  I shrugged. “Slow learner.” It was easier than trying to explain that I still had no idea what I wanted to be when I grew up.

  “Oh,” he said, nodding. “Did the two of you find the victim?”

  I nodded.

  “Mia did. I was standing at my door, unlocking it when she screamed,” Mom said. “We called 911 right away.”

  “I see,” he said and took a small notebook out of his pocket. “Can you tell me what happened?”

  “We had just gotten home from work and I noticed the scare-, um, Hazel, on the bench. I mean, I didn’t know it was Hazel, but when I walked up to the scarecrow and took its hat off, I realized it was her. And then my mother called 911.”

  I wondered if any of that made sense. Why was he making me nervous? He was just Ethan Banks from high school. Except that now he was also a cop and the sight of a police uniform always made me nervous.

  “I see. Do you normally check up on your neighbor when you get home from work?”

  “What? No, I don’t, it’s just that it seemed odd she had a scarecrow on her front porch,” I said, glancing at the ambulance as it drove off.

  Ethan looked up from his notebook. “Why did it seem odd she had a scarecrow on her front porch? I mean, this is a Halloween town and all.”

  “Are you kidding? Did you know Hazel? She’s an obsessive neat freak and she would never have anything like that on her front porch. Was. Was an obsessive neat freak, I mean. And she never decorated for Halloween. Not ever.”

  Ethan made a note and nodded. “I didn’t know her, but I’ll admit to taking a few calls for this neighborhood with reports of disturbing the peace and vehicles parked too far away from the curb. The calls originated with her.”

  “Doesn’t surprise me,” I said.

  “Did you notice anything unusual? Have there been any strangers in the neighborhood?”

  “No, but we work during the day and we haven’t noticed anyone new in the neighborhood,” I said.

  “What kind of relationship did you have with your neighbor?” he asked.

  “What? What do you mean?” I asked.

  Was he trying to infer something?

  He looked from me to my mom and back. “She seemed like she might not have been the greatest neighbor if she was that picky about things. Did you get along?”

  “We got along fine,” Mom said. “She complained about things, but we tried our best to ignore her. It was just the way she was and arguing with her wouldn't change things.”

  “Some neighbors are tough to get along with,” Ethan agreed. “Do you own the candy shop over on Spooky Lane?”

  Mom nodded. “Yes, we’ve owned it for over thirty years. We inherited it from my parents. We love this town.”

  I glanced at Mom. She seemed a little nervous. We both were. The last thing we needed was for the police to think we had something to do with Hazel’s death.

  “I love the pralines there,” he said and smiled. He had a million dollar smile. Not that I noticed things like that.

  “With the nuts?” I asked. I couldn’t help myself. It was out before I realized what I was saying.

  “Yeah, the nuts are the best part. Why? Do you make them without nuts?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “Nope. Pralines have to have nuts.”

  Ethan smiled at me like we were sharing an inside joke. I didn’t like his friendliness. I wasn’t over the spider incident.

  “How long have you been back in town?” he asked, sounding chummy.

  “A week.” I looked at him without saying anything more. We hadn’t been friends in high school. In fact, our paths had rarely crossed. There was no reason for him to be friendly to me now.

  “Are you going to keep working at the candy store? Or put your education to work?”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. It wasn’t his business what I did with my education. I guess you could say I was too sensitive, but I felt a little like a failure. Each time I had entered a master’s program, I had sworn I was on the right track. And now I was back working at my parents’ candy shop. I could have saved myself the trouble and stayed home.

  “I haven’t decided. There’s an awful lot of people across the street you might want to interview,” I said pointing out the neighbors on their lawn chairs.

  He glanced across the street and then nodded. “Right. I was just making my way over there. Well, I’ll be in touch. If you can think of anything, you’ll give me a call, right?” he handed us both a business card.

  “Sure,” I said without looking at him.

  When he left, mom turned to me. “You weren’t very friendly to him.”

  I shrugged. “So? Was I supposed to be?”

  “It just seemed odd is all.”

  I looked at her. “Don’t you think he asked pointed questions? I don’t like feeling like I’m a suspect in a murder. I was doing a good deed by going over there to check on Hazel.”

  “Mia, he didn’t ask pointed questions and I’m sure all he was doing was trying to find out what happened. He seems like a nice young man.”

  “Mom, he is not a nice young man. In seventh grade, he told everyone I had spiders in my hair. A week later he told them I smelled, and that was why the spiders liked living in my hair.”

  She looked at me, giving me the eye. “Mia, how long ago was that? In seventh grade, boys are still being mean to girls they like. They don’t know how to express themselves.”

  I gasped. “No, he did not like me. He was just mean. And kids called me spider girl for months afterward.”

  “I think you need to get over it,” she said, turning toward the house. “I’m going to get dinner started. Your father will be home any minute.”

  I snorted. She didn’t know what she was talking about. Ethan Banks was a jerk then, and he was a jerk now. She needed to open her eyes and see what was really going on here.

  --4--

  I was placing a pound of caramels into a box for a customer when the shop door swung open.

  “Mia!”

  I looked up to see Amanda Krigbaum, my best friend from high school. “Amanda!” I said. “Hold on, I’ll be right with you.”

  I took the box of candy to the cash register and rang up my customer. I thanked her and tucked a pumpkin lollipop into the bag for her fo
ur-year-old daughter who had spent the last ten minutes eyeing them.

  “Come back soon,” I said as she left.

  “Mia!” Amanda said again when the customer left and came around behind the counter, giving me a hug. “I missed you!”

  “I missed you, too,” I said. “It’s been too long.” She looked the same as she had in high school, tall, blond hair, and piercing green eyes. She wore black-framed glasses and had a turned up nose. She was a sight for sore eyes.

  “I know. Has it been six years?” she asked, holding me at arm’s length. “Let me get a look at you. You’re still just as pretty as ever."

  “I can say the same about you. I don't know why we let so much time pass without seeing each other,” I said. Amanda and I had been inseparable in school. But once school was out, we had gone our separate ways. I went to Michigan, and she went to Texas for college. After college, she moved back home, but her job as a drug sales rep kept her traveling and we kept missing one another when I came home to visit. “How’s work?”

  “I quit,” she said. “I hated all the traveling. I’m engaged, and I didn’t want to be away from Brian for long stretches.”

  “Oh, my gosh,” I said. “Congratulations! Brian who?”

  “Uh,” she said and hesitated. “Brian Shoate.” She tilted her head and looked at me.

  I sobered. “Oh. That’s great.” Brian had been my boyfriend for over a year in high school.

  “I’m sorry, Mia. I wanted to tell you but every time I sat down to call you, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Does it bother you?”

  I’ll admit I was a little stunned. I shook my head. “No. Not a bit. I’m so happy for you.” And I was. It had been a shock when his name came out of her mouth along with the word "engaged", but Brian was a good guy and she was my best friend. They would make a cute couple.

  “Are you sure?” she asked.

  “Amanda, you’re engaged. It’s been over ten years ago that Brian and I dated. I assure you, I’m fine with it. You’re engaged and I’m happy for you.”

  “I’m so glad. I worried it would hurt your feelings. Brian owns the Little Coffee Shop of Horrors. I quit my drug rep job and went to work for him. I love being able to spend so much time with him.”

  “Really? I didn’t realize he owned the coffee shop. I’ve been away much too long.”

  “What about you? Anyone special?” she asked.

  “Nope. I dated a couple of good ones, but I’m not seeing anyone right now. Next time I need to tie them up so they can’t get away,” I said, and picked up a cloth and ran it across the top of the display case. There had been two men in the past ten years that I thought were perfect for me. But things happened, and we parted ways. No drama, no cheating. It just didn’t work out. Afterward, I had looked back and regretted letting them go. I didn’t seem to be very good at careers or men.

  "Well, we may have to do something about that," she said.

  "We'll see about that," I said with a laugh. I was fine on my own. Not that I'd turn down the right guy.

  “Hey, I heard your neighbor was killed last night. Was it the nosy one that told your mom when we sneaked out of the house to meet those boys when we were in the ninth grade?” she asked, leaning against the display case.

  “That was the one,” I said and smiled at the memory. I had lost my phone privileges and been grounded for a month over that incident. “It was weird. Someone dressed her up as a scarecrow and sat her on the bench on her porch.”

  “That is weird,” she agreed. “How did she die?”

  “I don’t know. It didn’t seem obvious when I found her.”

  “You found her? How horrible!”

  I nodded. “It was kind of freaky. I didn’t know Ethan Bates was a policeman. He questioned my mom and me about her murder.”

  “He’s been an officer for years. As soon as he was old enough, he went through the police academy. In school I would have sworn he would have become a lawyer,” she said.

  “I thought so, too. I bet his parents weren’t thrilled with that choice. They always seemed like high maintenance people.”

  She nodded. “They were kind of intense. He was a straight-A student. Law school seemed imminent.”

  “Do you want to take a break with me? I could use a donut or something,” I said. There weren’t any customers in the shop and now was a good time to take a break.

  “Sure,” she said. “I’m always up for a donut.”

  “Mom, I’m going down the street for a donut. I’ll be back,” I called to my mother.

  “Okay,” she said and stood in the doorway to the back room. “Hi, Amanda.”

  “Hi, Mrs. Jordan.”

  We headed out the door and down the street toward the bakery. The great thing about a small town is that most things are within walking distance.

  “Hazel was in the shop yesterday morning and she said she had had an argument with Stella Moretti at the bakery,” I said as we walked. The bakery was famous for its chocolate donuts with orange icing and Halloween cutout sugar cookies. Stella Moretti could be a pain to deal with, but she made the best donuts in the county.

  “I’d bet Hazel had lots of arguments with almost everyone in town.”

  “That’s true,” I said. “It’s kind of scary having a murderer on the loose.”

  She nodded. “I hope they find the killer soon.”

  I pushed open the bakery door and the scent of sweet yummy donuts hit me. I inhaled. “Hi, Stella,” I said. She was behind the counter, sitting on a stool and reading the newspaper.

  “Hey,” she said, glancing at me, then going back to her reading. Stella was middle-aged with short dark curly hair. She was what my grandmother would call pleasingly plump, and she wore bright red lipstick every day.

  “Can I get some donuts, please?” I asked when she didn’t get up.

  “Sure,” she said, folding the newspaper in half and getting to her feet.

  “Did you hear what happened yesterday?” I asked her.

  “What? About that Hazel Martin?” she snorted. “Good riddance. She was a pest. She was always coming in here and arguing about how many donuts are in a dozen.”

  “It’s a shame though,” I said. “Ending up dead like that and then being used as a Halloween prop.”

  She went to the sink on the wall and turned the water on. “Yeah, sure. But it’s not like the town is losing anything. She lived to make people’s lives miserable. Who’s going to miss that?”

  I glanced at Amanda.

  “She was still a person, Stella,” Amanda pointed out. “You have to feel bad about her murder on that basis alone.”

  “No, I really don’t,” Stella said. “What do you want?”

  “Three of the chocolate and orange ones,” I said. “I’ll bring one back to my mother. She loves your donuts.”

  “You know what I think?” Stella asked.

  “What?” I replied.

  She finished washing, pulled out three paper towels from the dispenser on the wall, and dried her hands before continuing. “Hazel’s killer should be celebrated. We should put up a stone monument dedicated to him or her.” She slipped on some vinyl gloves and went to the display case.

  “That’s terrible. How can you say that?” Amanda asked. Her eyes went wide, and she looked at me. “How can she say that?”

  “She complained about me to the health department. She said I wasn’t washing my hands before serving people. You just saw me do it, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, we did,” I said, nodding. “And since your customers know you wash your hands, her complaints are untrue, and I’m sure the health department knows that.”

  “Stupid woman,” she said. “I am impeccably clean. She hated that I collect garden gnomes and display them in my front yard. She said they were trashy. Garden gnomes are not trashy. They’re cute. I don’t know what her problem was, but she kept turning me into the homeowners association.”

  “She had a thing for neat yards,” I said.
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  Stella lived three blocks away from my parent’s house and it was true about the gnomes. She probably had more than thirty of the colorful little things on her porch and along her fence line. Sometimes the grass wasn’t cut, and the house needed a coat of paint, but I had never thought Stella was dirty. Hazel had impossible standards.

  Stella rang up the donuts and put them in a white paper bag.

  “Thanks, Stella,” I said and took the bag from her.

  “Tell your mom I said hi. And tell her to let me know when she makes the pumpkin fudge again. I love that stuff.”

  “I will,” I said as we left the bakery. After Labor Day, all the shops would have pumpkin flavored everything. I loved pumpkin spice, but I wasn’t sure about the pumpkin burgers that Diner of the Dead served. The burgers had pumpkin butter on them. That was going a little too far for my tastes.

  “Stella sure isn’t going to miss Hazel,” Amanda said as we walked down the street. Most of the shops had Halloween characters, pumpkins, and fall leaves painted on the borders of their windows, ready for the start of the season. They had also set their best decorations and merchandise in displays in front of the windows. It made me feel nostalgic and giddy with anticipation. I handed Amanda a donut and took one out for myself.

  “No, there’s no love lost between Stella and Hazel. I don’t know how she could be so cold about it though. I know what a pain Hazel was; I lived next door to her all my life. But I still feel bad she died.”

  “And in such a bizarre manner. Who would dress her up as a scarecrow?”

  “I don’t know. But I don’t like that Ethan Banks is looking in my direction. He might be looking at my mom, too.”

  “Do you really think he is?” she asked.

  “It sure seems that way,” I said and took a bite of my donut.

  “I don’t blame you for worrying about it, then,” Amanda said and took a bite of her donut.

  I wondered if my mother and I were really suspects or if Ethan was just doing his job. Maybe he asked everyone the kinds of questions he had asked us. I could have been a little paranoid, or I could be right that he was suspicious of my mom and I. I just didn’t know for sure.