Killer Halloween Cookies: Book 2 in The Killer Cookie Cozy Mysteries Read online

  “I don’t think it’s that bad. It’s better than roasting under the sun,” Lilah said.

  “Well, that’s because you’re covered from shoulder to toe in burlap and straw,” her friend said. “You’re wearing a quality costume. This witch dress is thin. And the makeup makes my face feel weird.”

  The scarecrow eyed her friend’s green face paint and grinned. “Playing the part of a witch suits you pretty well, Val. You look good in green.”

  “Oh, hush. I only volunteered because I didn’t want you to have to be alone out here, you know.”

  “I know. Thanks,” Lilah said more solemnly. “I really do appreciate it.”

  The owners of the Granger Farm had finally managed to get around enough of the legal loopholes and bad press to get the corn maze and hayride running again. Those were the two big money-makers for the season, and Lilah supposed they couldn’t stay shut down forever. Still, she had felt a cold dread seep into her bones when she got the call from Mrs. Perry asking her to come back to work as a scarecrow. The killer was still out there, and she didn’t necessarily feel that the farm’s new no-mask rule did much to keep them safe. Besides, she had been reluctant to close her little cookie stand down. It had been doing so well the past few days. Still, she had made a commitment when she took the job at the farm, it didn’t feel right to back out now, not when she knew that so many of the other employees had already left. Besides, playing the part of a scarecrow paid better than her little cookie stand did, and her new resolution to try to make a business out of cookies made her even more eager to make some extra cash when she could.

  “I’m not sure why the owners thought this was a good idea,” Val said, shifting on her feet and peering down the path as she waited for the tractor and trailer to appear. “Who’s even going to show up to a haunted hayride where someone died a week ago?”

  “I’m sure plenty of people will show up,” Lilah said. “Probably not as many families with kids. But it’s Halloween. People want to be scared. There will probably be a lot of teens, hoping to see a glimpse of real blood.”

  “Maybe some real life ghost hunters, too,” Val said. She pursed her lips, eying the dark stretch of forest across from them where Mark had breathed his last. “Do you believe in ghosts, Lilah? Real ones, not women walking around in sheer dresses stained with fake blood.”

  “I’m not sure. I’ve never seen one, but my father’s office building used to have this one meeting room in which the door kept opening for no reason that anybody could find. I was there alone one night, working late, and I heard it creak open down the hall. It was the creepiest thing that has ever happened to me. We always latched that door, there was no reason it would have opened like that.”

  “What did you do?” her friend asked.

  “I called the building janitor up to have him look at it, then followed him downstairs and left. I never stayed at the office alone at night after that,” Lilah said. She shivered as she relived the memory, feeling the horror that she had felt all those years ago when she had heard that slow creak coming from behind her in a building that she knew to be empty.

  “Ugh, maybe telling horror stories isn’t a good idea right now,” Val said with a shudder. “Even if ghosts aren’t real, Mark’s killer is still on the loose, and we have no idea who it is.”

  “Actually,” Lilah said. “I do have an idea of who may have done it.” She told her friend about her run-in with Gabby and her theory that Mark Perry had been having an affair. To her surprise, Val nodded sagely when she was done.

  “Oh, everybody knows that,” her friend said. “I’ve been volunteering here for years, remember? Anyone who has worked here for long enough would have stumbled across them at some point. Even his wife knew. From what I’ve heard, she was on the verge of divorcing him, but wanted to keep their public image good for the business. Everyone in town likes to think of them as the sweet couple that runs the Granger Farm. A separation would wreck that image.”

  “Well then, what do you think about Mrs. Perry as a murder suspect?” Lilah asked.

  Val snorted. “I don’t see it. I mean, maybe when she first found out years ago, but this has been going on for so long… why would she snap now? They’ve been acting more like business partners than husband and wife lately. I think she’s past the point of caring. Besides, that mummy moved pretty well, and Mrs. Perry has arthritis in her knees. She wouldn’t have been able to run away so fast after she did it.”

  “I suppose you’re right. Come to think of it, she’s shorter than you, isn’t she? And you said the mummy was a little bit taller.”

  Her friend nodded. “You’re right.” She frowned slightly, considering. “But, now that you mention it, Mark’s girlfriend’s pretty tall, isn’t she? I’ve never spoken to her, but I’ve seen her around a few times.”

  “She’s tall,” Lilah said, “but I don’t see why she would kill him. She seemed really upset about losing him, and she kept asking me if I knew who the killer was, or if I recognized anything about the mummy.”

  “Well, Mark’s been visiting with her on the side for years, hasn’t he?” Val asked. “Maybe she didn’t like the fact that after all that time, he was still with his wife. Or maybe he tried to break it off with her, who knows. Johnny said that he heard them arguing a while back, but I don’t remember about what. I never liked Mark very much, but I wish I had paid more attention now.”

  “Maybe she was asking me if I had any idea who the mummy was to see if I recognized her,” Lilah said, beginning to see that Gabby made a pretty good suspect. “Oh my goodness, Val, do you think she would have killed me if I’d said the wrong thing? Maybe she was there that afternoon to cover her tracks.”

  “It could be,” her friend said. “I mean, anyone who’s willing to have an affair with someone else’s spouse can’t be a very good person, can they? Hold on — I think the tractor’s coming.”

  The two women took a break from their conversation and hid in the shadows. As the trailer passed, Lilah did her usual routine, staggering out of the shadows and reaching for the people on the trailer, while Val ran out in front of it, cackling in a very witch-like way.

  “It was definitely an older crowd tonight,” her friend said after the trailer had passed out of sight. “No one wants to bring their kids to a murder scene.”

  “I don’t blame them,” Lilah said. “But listen, there’s another suspect. Reid and I were talking about this the other day. I don’t think I ever told you, but I overheard Mark and this guy named Don talking…”

  Val listened while she relayed the story, a frown appearing on her face that only deepened as Lilah got further in. She ended with the last time she had seen him, and the encounter between him and Mrs. Perry.

  “Now that’s something you should be telling to the police,” her friend said. “Are you the only one that overheard those conversations?”

  “Reid was with me when Don and Mark were arguing for the last time,” Lilah said. “The first time I heard them speaking, I was the only one there. Then when Don came to collect his deposit, it was just me and Mrs. Perry.”

  “Then the police may not know about this guy at all,” Val pointed out. “He sounds like he’s an angry person, and potentially dangerous. I mean, who threatens a woman for money just a week after her husband’s death?”

  “To be fair, Mrs. Perry hasn’t exactly been too broken up about losing him.” Something occurred to her. “Val, you said the Perry’s were considering a divorce, right?”

  “It’s what I picked up on, but I never spoke to either of them about it directly. I didn’t think it was my business to get involved in their relationship.”

  “I know you said you don’t think Mrs. Perry could have killed him, but what if she was going to lose this job at the farm, or lose their house? Maybe she killed him before the divorce so she wouldn’t be cut off from whatever benefits they get as a married couple.”

  “I’m not saying it isn’t a motive, but I still don’t thin
k she could have physically done it.” Val sighed. “This conversation hasn’t been exactly comforting. I started off the evening having no idea who the killer might be. The fact that there’s three suspects doesn’t exactly make me feel much better. And where is that next tractor, anyway? It’s been way too long.”

  As she spoke, Lilah’s radio crackled to life. It was Johnny, telling them that the farm was closing early and they were free to go home — not enough people had shown up for the haunted hayride for them to be able to keep running it that night.

  “After all we went through to save it, and it’s just getting shut down anyway,” Lilah said with a sigh. “Come on, let’s go. I think you’re right — I do need to tell the police what I know about Don. I can swing by the station on my way home.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  * * *

  An hour after Lilah got home that night, her cell phone rang. At first she was reluctant to answer it, certain that whoever it was couldn’t have good news, not after a day as stressful and depressing as the one that she had just had. Still, she dragged herself off of the couch and over to the kitchen counter where she had left her purse, and was glad that she did when she saw who was calling. It was Margie, and what her neighbor said over the phone warmed her right up.

  “Thanks for inviting me over for dinner, Margie,” Lilah said after making the short walk over to the older woman’s house. “It’s been a crazy couple of weeks. I could use the company.”

  “Well, I figured you might be a bit down when I saw you come home from work so early. I got a wonderful deal on Cornish game hens from the butcher today, and my first thought was to make something nice to celebrate your success with your cookies. I was going to do it tomorrow night, but tonight will work just as well.”

  “It’s been a pretty bad evening,” Lilah admitted. “The haunted hayride got closed down after only one group of people went through. I guess no one wanted to take the chance that they would be the next victim. I don’t think they’re going to bother reopening it again until the killer is caught. And to make matters worse, I stopped at the police station on the way home to tell the officer in charge of the investigation about a couple of suspects that Val and I were discussing, and he pretty much just told me that the police had already questioned the people that I mentioned, and that they were perfectly capable of doing their job without my help.” She sighed. “He told me that it was dangerous for everyone involved when civilians got mixed up in police work, and basically said that I should keep my nose out of it.”

  “Oh, don’t pay any mind to him. His dad was the old chief of police, and he’s very sensitive to people telling him how to do his job. He thinks it means he’s not good enough, I’m guessing. Come on into the kitchen, and I’ll put the finishing touches on dinner.”

  Lilah followed her friend into her kitchen and helped her prepare the mashed potatoes as they continued talking. “Maybe I’ll be able to keep selling cookies in the farm store, now that Johnny’s saying they probably won’t run the haunted hayride again this season. That will give some time to sell extra cookies, at least.”

  “I think that’s a good idea. From what Val said, those cookies of yours are quite the hit.”

  “Did she call you?”

  “She did. She thought you were selling cookies for me, so she called to congratulate me. She said the cookies were more popular than ever.” Her friend chuckled. “She was quite surprised when I told her that you made each and every cookie on your own.”

  “Well, considering that the only experience she has with my cooking was microwaved instant noodles back when we were in college, I don’t blame her. Honestly, I was surprised by how much people seemed to enjoy the cookies, too. I was expecting some success — I knew they tasted good, since I sampled every batch myself — but I didn’t expect so many repeat customers.”

  “You have a gift,” Margie said simply.

  “Too bad I’m only now discovering it,” Lilah said, sighing. “I could have spent the last ten years building up a cookie business, instead of wasting time at a job I didn’t enjoy.”

  “It’s not too late,” her friend said. “Don’t start acting like you’re too old to do anything useful with your life. Look at me; I’m nearly twice your age, and I still accomplish plenty. I don’t follow along with that ‘too old’ nonsense.”

  “It’s different for you. You’re…” she gestured helplessly, at a loss for the right words to describe her neighbor. “You’re Margie. Everyone in town knows you. I think you’ve helped everyone in town at least once. People know they can depend on you. But I’ve only been here for a couple of years, and I haven’t exactly got a great reputation. I haven’t held on to any job for more than a few weeks since I quit at my father’s company. I haven’t built anything with my life, Margie.”

  “You’re trying to follow your dreams and do what makes you happy,” her friend said. “Very few people are brave enough to do that. If you like making cookies, and you’re good at it — which you are — I think you should stick with it and make something for yourself out of it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, you could open a shop,” Margie said. She spooned the mashed potatoes into glass bowl, then added, “It’s something that I’ve always wanted to do.”

  “Why don’t you? I think that would be great. Everyone in town already loves your cookies. You’d hardly even have to advertise.”

  “Oh, I don’t have the time or energy for something like that anymore. I’ve looked into it just enough to know that starting up a new business like that would take up a lot of my time. I enjoy doing all of the things I do now, and running a business would take time away from my other interests. But I think that it would be an amazing idea for you.”

  “A lot of small businesses fail in the first year,” Lilah said as they sat down at the table. “I think almost half of them. I don’t know if a cookie shop in such a small town would ever be successful enough to be anything other than a hobby. Plus, where would I get the money for something like that?” She liked the idea; it would be amazing to spend her days baking instead of working in the diner’s greasy kitchen. She would be her own boss, she could set her own hours and she certainly knew how to run a business… Lilah shook her head, trying not to get ahead of herself. Even if it was possible for a cookie store to be profitable in a town like Vista, Alabama, she just didn’t have the money for start-up costs.

  “I think it would be more successful than you’d expect. Vista may be a small town, but there are quite a few other small towns within easy driving distance. And people drive through here all the time on their way to the coast. As for money, well, I’ve got some saved up.” Margie looked at her consideringly. “If you’re serious about baking, and think you might want to give this a try, I’d be happy to loan you the money if you come up with a good business plan.”

  Lilah gaped at her friend. “I couldn’t ask you to do that. It’s too risky, what if the business failed? You know I don’t exactly have the best track record when it comes to jobs. Val says I’m cursed.”

  Margie chuckled. “I may be old, but that doesn’t mean I’m superstitious. I don’t believe in curses. And you aren’t asking me for the loan. I’m offering. There isn’t enough good in this world, and I think a cookie store run by someone as kind-hearted as you are would bring smiles to a lot of faces.”

  Lilah spent the rest of dinner turning her friend’s proposition over in her mind. The prospect of having her very own store was tempting. Val ran her little boutique and seemed to do well enough. In fact, there were a lot of small businesses in town. It was certainly possible to keep a business afloat here. Without the issue of money, what was standing in her way? Nothing. Still, it didn’t feel like a decision that she should make without some serious thought. It would be a risky move for both her and Margie if she went through with it.

  Feeling conflicted, she thanked her friend for the delicious meal and helped clean up the dishes before going back to
her own house. She fed the dog and the cat and put a load of laundry in the washing machine, lost in thought the entire time. She was in the middle of a fantasy about running a thriving cookie store when her phone rang, making her jump. It was late, and once again she worried that the caller bore bad news. She glanced at the caller ID. Val.

  “Hello?”

  “Lilah, you have to get to the Granger Farm immediately. I was finishing up putting away some of the props, and saw Gabby pull into the lot and get out of her car. She was carrying something in her arms, I don’t know what, but whatever she’s doing here this late can’t be good. I tried calling Mrs. Perry’s home number, but she didn’t answer, and she’s not in the shop. She must be on the farm somewhere. What if Gabby’s here to kill her? We have to do something. I can’t leave without at least warning Mrs. Perry, but I’m terrified to go wandering around the farm on my own looking for her.”

  Reluctantly, Lilah agreed to head over, more about loyalty to her friend than concern that Gabby was the killer. The woman just hadn’t seemed dangerous to her, and the more she thought about it, the more certain she was that Don must have murdered Mark. Still, Val was her best friend, and she couldn’t just leave her hanging.