Howloween Murder Page 4

  “How was school today?” Sam asked me. He was wearing a faded blue chambray shirt, and its color matched his eyes. The shirt’s cuffs were rolled back to reveal the dusting of blond hair on his forearms. He helped himself to string beans while he waited for me to answer.

  The question sounded simple, but something in his voice made me suspicious. Sam had been scheduled to spend most of the day in his home office. So there should have been no way he could know about what had happened at Howard Academy.

  “It was fine,” I replied smoothly. All my fingers were visible above the table, so I crossed my legs beneath it. Surely that was close to the same thing? “Why do you ask?”

  “Just curious.” When he smiled, grooves bracketed the corners of his mouth. “Fine, you say?”

  I scooped a dollop of mashed potatoes onto my plate and nodded. “You know how it is at HA. Same old, same old.”

  “Funny thing.” Sam’s tone remained casual. “That’s not what I heard.”

  “Good one, Mom.” Davey sputtered out a laugh. He was a good kid, but he was still a teenager. So he loved poking fun at his parents. “I think he caught you red-handed.”

  Maybe. Or maybe I could still brazen this out.

  “Really?” I batted my eyelashes innocently. “What did you hear?”

  “That the police were called to the school this morning. Beyond that, Peg was a little light on the details.”

  Of course he’d been talking to Aunt Peg. I should have known.

  Aunt Peg was a relative by marriage, but that had never stopped her from insinuating herself into every aspect of my life. She was nosier and had more sources of information than the CIA. A year earlier, she’d hit her seventies at a dead run, and she had no patience for anyone who couldn’t keep up. If there was trouble brewing anywhere in the vicinity, chances were Aunt Peg wanted to get in on it.

  She was also a Howard Academy alumna. I knew Mr. Hanover would have made every effort to keep news of Harriet’s difficulties under wraps. So how did Aunt Peg know about it already? She must have gotten a report virtually live. I wondered who her snitch was.

  “There isn’t much more than that to tell,” I said.

  Pointedly I let my gaze drift to Kev’s place at the side of the table. His plate was looking suspiciously empty, but now I had bigger things to worry about. Fortunately, Sam got the message. We’d discuss the rest after the kids went to bed.

  “Good,” he replied. “I’m glad to hear that.”

  Davey smirked at me and rolled his eyes. I was half-tempted to kick him under the table, but I was afraid I’d hit a Poodle.

  “Guess what?” Kevin cried. All eyes turned his way. “I’m going to be a Transformer for Halloween.”

  “Good choice,” Davey approved. The two of them high-fived across the tabletop.

  “Since when?” I wanted to know. That sounded like a hard costume to make.

  “I just thought of it,” Kev replied happily. “I’m finished with my dinner. Can I be excused?”

  Sam frowned at Kevin’s plate. “Did you eat all that food or did Bud?”

  Kev just shrugged. He was already sliding down off his chair. “What’s the difference as long as it’s gone?”

  Just what I needed, a five-year-old philosopher.

  * * *

  I wasn’t surprised when my phone rang as soon as we were finished with dinner. As usual, Aunt Peg’s timing was impeccable. I supposed it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility that she had a spy inside my house too. Where Aunt Peg was concerned, no idea was too outlandish to consider.

  “Well?” she demanded as an opening salvo.

  “Hello to you, too.” I sat down on the couch and Faith jumped up to join me. I settled her warm body across my lap and curled my fingers into the plush hair on the back of her neck.

  “It’s Aunt Peg,” I whispered.

  “I know who I am!” she retorted.

  “I was talking to Faith.”

  “Oh.” Aunt Peg sounded slightly mollified. “Tell her I said hello.”

  There was a pause in the conversation while I relayed her message. Aunt Peg also lives with five Standard Poodles. They’re all related to mine too. Be glad I didn’t have to pass along felicitations from all of them.

  I’d been caught skirting around the truth with Sam. So with Aunt Peg, I got straight to the point. “How much do you know?”

  “Not nearly enough. Thank goodness I have a handy source at the scene.”

  “Who?” I asked.

  Aunt Peg sighed. Then waited in silence long enough for me to get the point.

  Belatedly, I did. She wasn’t about to give up her secret mole. She was talking about me.

  “Harriet’s in trouble,” I said.

  There was a short delay while Aunt Peg worked to place the name. “Harriet is Russell’s assistant, right? The woman who sits at the desk in the front hall?”

  “You’re thinking of the right person—but Harriet’s responsibilities encompass much more than that. When it comes to the inner workings of Howard Academy, she’s the woman with her finger on the pulse. She’s the headmaster’s eyes and ears, and probably his right hand as well. There’s nothing that happens at HA that Harriet doesn’t know about.”

  “Hmmm.” I could tell Aunt Peg was smiling. Useful people were her favorite kind. “She sounds like a good woman to know. What kind of trouble is she in?”

  I spent the next ten minutes outlining the situation. Faith raised her head and pricked her ears while I talked. She was listening avidly too.

  “Harriet needs someone strong and capable on her side,” Aunt Peg said when I was finished.

  “Mr. Hanover’s already on it. He’s making arrangements to hire her an attorney.”

  “That’s good. But I was thinking of a capable woman.”

  “You?”

  “Don’t be silly. I’m not acquainted with Harriet, and I don’t work at the school. What possible use could I be? I’m volunteering you.”

  I had to admit, I’d seen that coming. When it came to poking around in other people’s problems, Aunt Peg was always encouraging me to get involved. If she ever needed a change of career, she would make a superb puppeteer.

  “Harriet’s a very private person—” I began.

  “Pffft!”

  “I’ve seen her at school nearly every day for the last ten years and I don’t even know her last name,” I pointed out.

  “Oh pish. That doesn’t mean anything. Have you ever asked?”

  “Well, no.”

  “Then I suggest you remedy that. Posthaste. Private person or not, Harriet needs someone in her corner. I see no reason why that person shouldn’t be you.”

  For a sneaky person, Aunt Peg could be remarkably unsubtle at times.

  “This isn’t about Harriet,” I said. “You want me to figure out who killed Ralph Penders.”

  “Two birds, one slingshot,” she replied. “And when you put your mind to it, you make a perfectly competent stone.”

  The fractured idiom made my head ache. I did, however, catch the implied insult. Perfectly competent indeed.

  “I’ll think about it,” I told her.

  “Think fast,” Aunt Peg retorted. “For Harriet’s sake. It sounds as though she needs answers quickly.”

  I disconnected the call and turned to Faith. “What do you think?”

  The Standard Poodle woofed her reply.

  “That sounds like a no to me,” I said.

  Faith’s tail thumped up and down on the duvet. She was just happy to be part of the conversation.

  “Maybe you meant yes?” I tried again.

  Her tail thumped once more. It looked like a split decision.

  Harriet probably didn’t need my help, I realized. Chances were, Mr. Hanover already had everything under control. Still, it couldn’t hurt to check in with her when I arrived at Howard Academy in the morning.

  You know, just in case.

  * * *

  The following morning
, I didn’t have to go far to find Harriet. She was sitting in my classroom when Faith and I rolled in. And we were half an hour early.

  I’d built in some extra time so I could cruise over to the front hall and see if Harriet was at her desk. Which she clearly wasn’t. Because she was seated behind mine.

  “You’re sitting in my spot,” I said.

  Harriet looked up and smiled. She’d clearly caught The Big Bang Theory reference. “I’d imagine it has a nice cross breeze and sits at just the right angle for viewing the room.” She stood up and walked around in front of the desk. “I brought Faith a biscuit. May I give it to her?”

  “Of course.”

  She held out her hand and Faith politely slid the peanut butter biscuit off her palm.

  At five foot six, I was average height, but I felt tall standing beside Harriet. Her pewter-gray hair was usually perfectly styled and sprayed, but today one side was crimped and flat. It looked as though she might have slept on it. Speaking of sleeping, Harriet didn’t appear to have done much of that since the last time I’d seen her. There were circles as dark as bruises beneath her eyes.

  “Is there something I can do for you?” I asked.

  “I hope so. Because otherwise I’m going to lose my job.”

  “No, you’re not.” My answer was quick and resolute. Harriet couldn’t lose her job at Howard Academy. The mere thought was inconceivable.

  “I am.” She sighed. “It’s going to happen.”

  We both pulled out chairs at the table and sat down. Faith was still crunching. She walked over to her bed to finish her prize.

  “Why?” I asked. “How? I thought Mr. Hanover was hiring you a lawyer.”

  “He is. But he also wants to put me on administrative leave. He thinks it’s for the best.”

  “Best for the school, you mean.”

  Harriet nodded. “He said it was for my own good, but I know better. He’s afraid I’ll become an embarrassment to Howard Academy. This is his way of easing me out.”

  “No,” I said. “You can’t let him do that.”

  Her gaze lifted to mine. “I can’t afford for him to do that. I love my job, Melanie, but I also need it. I refused to go.”

  “Good for you,” I said roundly.

  “I have to fight for my place here. I don’t have a choice.” Harriet’s lips curved in a small smile. “Besides, it’s not as if he could manage without me.”

  I smiled back at her. “None of us could manage without you.”

  “I’m glad you feel that way.” She reached over and placed a hand on my arm. Her fingers were smooth and slender. “I know you have a reputation for solving people’s problems. The only way I’m going to keep my job is if Ralph’s murder gets solved quickly and quietly. And I want you to help me do it.”

  Chapter Six

  “Help you?” I repeated. I hadn’t expected that.

  “Like we both work together?”

  “Why not?” she asked. “I have a good brain on my shoulders. Plus, I bet I’m already acquainted with most of the suspects. That gives me a head start. What I don’t have is spare time. I need someone to do the legwork.”

  “Spare time,” I said faintly. It wasn’t as if I had an abundance of that either.

  “I thought we could make a deal.”

  “What kind of deal?” I stared at Harriet across the table. She was turning out to be full of surprises.

  “I like Cheryl Feeney. She’s a good kid. Good at her job too.”

  Kid. I almost laughed. Cheryl was in her midtwenties. “I agree.”

  Harriet nodded as if that was a given. “Here’s what I’m proposing. I’ll do your bit, working on the Halloween party with Cheryl. That will free you up to find out what went wrong with Ralph’s marshmallow puffs.”

  Her idea had immediate appeal. For one thing, planning school events was the pits. The affairs always had too many moving parts, people who volunteered to help but never showed up, and work that didn’t get done until the last minute. By which time, I had either stress hives or indigestion.

  Plus, teaming up with Harriet would get Aunt Peg off my back. And a happy Aunt Peg was always preferable to the alternative.

  “You’re sure you want to take over the party?” I asked. “Cheryl and I still have a lot to do.”

  My question didn’t faze Harriet at all. Instead she looked relieved. “I’ve thrown together dozens of events here at HA, some with hardly any advance warning. This shindig will be a piece of cake. I could knock it out with my eyes closed.”

  I wasn’t about to argue with that logic. Especially since it aligned so neatly with my own self-interests. I was off the hook. Even better, I had nothing to feel guilty about.

  “You’ve got a deal,” I said before she could change her mind. “Do you want to shake on it?”

  Harriet gazed at my outstretched hand. “Is that how you usually do business?”

  “Umm . . . no.” I pulled my hand back. “I just thought it wouldn’t hurt to make things official.”

  “Like when you have real clients?”

  That made me stop and think. “I don’t have clients.”

  “Who are all those people you help, then?”

  “I guess they’re my friends.” Harriet and I looked at each other for several seconds. Then I said, “Like you.”

  Harriet blinked slowly, then nodded in affirmation. This time, she was the one who held out her hand across the table.

  Abruptly we both seemed to realize that our friendship had been building for years, without either one of us noticing it. Now the relationship was real. Our handshake ratified it.

  “Good,” she said firmly. “Now let me tell you my plan. After that, all you have to do is execute it.”

  All?

  “The execution is the hard part,” I commented.

  “Don’t worry, you’ll do great. Like I told you yesterday, the marshmallow puffs I brought here, and the ones that ended up with Ralph, weren’t the only batches I made. Not by a long shot. Some years, I bake more than a thousand of those things.”

  “You said you hand them out on Halloween and also give some to your neighbors, right?”

  Harriet nodded.

  “The police took the puffs we had here,” I said. “Will they be gathering up the others too?”

  “I highly doubt it.”

  “Why not?” That seemed like a no-brainer to me.

  Harriet folded her arms over her chest. “Because I didn’t tell them about the other batches.”

  “You . . . What?”

  “Think about it, Melanie. I’m in enough trouble, as it is. The authorities are already looking at me sideways. My job here is hanging by a thread. On top of all that, there was no way I was going to subject half my neighborhood to a police search.”

  “But the people who have marshmallow puffs need to know—”

  “Of course they do.” Her breath escaped on a huff of annoyance. “And those stupid treats have to be grabbed back before the holiday gets here and people put them to use. But the retrieval process needs to be handled quietly. Like, you know, undercover. That’s where you come in.”

  Harriet didn’t know me as well as she thought she did. Doing things quietly had never been one of my strengths.

  “Believe me, I’ve thought this through,” she continued. “I’m busy here all day. You go home at one o’clock. That gives you plenty of extra time to go traipsing around my neighborhood. I’ll give you the names and addresses you need, so you can get right to work.”

  Harriet made it sound so easy. I wasn’t convinced for a minute.

  “Your neighbors don’t know me,” I pointed out. “Maybe they won’t even answer their doors.”

  “They will. It’s a friendly block.”

  “They’re friendly with you. You live there. Maybe you should call them in advance and tell them what’s going on.”

  “No way.” Harriet gave her head a definite shake. “Not happening. If you think I’m going to tell my neighb
ors over the phone that I was involved in Ralph’s death—and that the marshmallow puffs sitting in their freezers might be filled with poison—you need to get your head on straight. News like that has to be delivered in person. And that will work out perfectly, because then you can pick up the puffs at the same time.”

  No wonder Harriet had wanted to switch jobs with me. Compared to walking around her neighborhood like an angel of doom, planning a Halloween party suddenly didn’t seem like such a bad gig.

  “Even if I start this afternoon, there’s no way I can visit everyone today,” I pointed out. “What if before I’m finished, someone else eats one of your puffs?”

  Harriet stared at me across the table. Her expression was grim. “Tell me something. Do you believe that I poisoned Ralph Penders?”

  “No. Of course not.”

  “All right, then you can believe this too. I’m positive there was no cyanide in any of those marshmallow puffs when they left my house. I don’t even know exactly what cyanide is, much less where to get it or how to go about using it. So unless two of my neighbors are in the unfortunate position of having someone wish them ill—and frankly, the very idea strains credibility—I’m certain that the remaining batches are fine. This is just a sensible precaution.”

  That was Harriet all over. The woman was nothing if not sensible.

  “Besides,” she said as she pushed back her chair and stood up, “this will give you the opportunity to get the lay of the land. And ask some questions. Isn’t that how you usually operate?”

  I opened my mouth to reply, but Harriet wasn’t finished.

  “I’m damned uncomfortable—pardon my French—being the only suspect the police have their eyes on. Go drum up some more leads. Give the police another direction to look in. You’ll be doing us all a favor.”

  She gave Faith a three-fingered wave, then headed for the classroom door. “I’m glad that’s settled. Now I need to get to work. I should be at my desk already. Mr. Hanover will be wondering what’s keeping me.”

  Harriet had settled things to her satisfaction. But she hadn’t given me a chance to agree or disagree with her plan. Possibly on purpose.

  This wasn’t the first time I’d seen Harriet riled up. She was like a mother hen, calmly and quietly looking after everyone in her nest—until someone disturbed one of her chicks. Then she turned into a Pit Bull.