Death of a Pumpkin Carver (10 page)

“Half the town has been to the Cross House of Horrors,” Sergio said, stabbing at a generous piece of Hayley's pumpkin cheesecake with his fork. “It's not so unusual that Otis Pearson might go there at some point for punts.”

“Punts?” Dustin asked, confused.

“Kicks,” Randy said, smiling. “He means Otis might have gone there for kicks.”

“Why does everyone insist on correcting me all the time? It's not like you don't understand me!” Sergio barked, wiping some cream cheese off his mustache with his finger and licking it off.

Everyone continued eating their dessert in silence in Hayley's dining room, choosing to let the moment float by without further comment.

Finally, after scraping the last bits of cheesecake off her plate with her fork, Hayley said, “Well, I, for one, think it's rather strange that Otis went to make a moonshine delivery to Norman Cross on the night he died, and then somehow mysteriously ended up next door at the Cross House of Horrors where he picked up that green goo on the bottom of his boot, and then later was found dead in the cemetery. The only person who may be able to shine some light on what really happened is Norman Cross.”

“Are you saying Cross might have had something to do with Otis's murder?” Randy asked, sipping a glass of Chardonnay.

“No. I honestly don't know what I'm saying. None of this makes any sense,” Hayley said, frustrated.

Dustin perked up. “Hey! I know what happened! Maybe Otis decided to go to the House of Horrors after his delivery and it was there that one of the actors playing a serial killer got a little too into his role and bopped him over the head by accident or something! Then he panicked after realizing what he had done and so he dragged Otis's body to the cemetery to fool the police into thinking he was killed there!”

“That' s not a bad theory,” Sergio admitted before wiping his mouth with a napkin. “I've got a list of the actors employed by Norman Cross at the House of Horrors so I'm going to question them all thoroughly tomorrow.”

Dustin grinned from ear to ear, proud of himself for coming up with a plausible solution to the crime.

The front door burst open and Danny breezed in, looking a bit harried. “Sorry I missed dinner. I got tied up.”

“That's okay, because I never invited you,” Hayley remarked, standing up to clear the dessert plates off the table.

“I invited him, Mom,” Gemma said.

Danny spotted the half-eaten cheesecake in the middle of the table. He scooped up a knife and cut himself a generous piece before plopping down in Hayley's vacant chair to chow down.

Randy jumped up from the table. “Can I make you a drink, Danny?”

Danny took Randy's hand and squeezed it. “You spoil me, Randy-boy.”

Randy giggled and blushed.

Sergio raised an eyebrow.

Gemma and Dustin tried hard not to laugh.

“How about a whiskey and soda?” Danny said, winking.

“Coming right up,” Randy said, bumping into a chair as he smiled and backed out of the room.

Sergio watched him go, fascinated.

As if he could not believe Randy was susceptible to this two-bit con artist's charms.

Hayley stacked the dirty plates, picked them up, and followed Randy into the kitchen where they could still overhear the conversation going on in the dining room.

“So what are we talking about?” Danny asked with a mouthful of cheesecake.

“Otis Pearson's murder,” Sergio said, sitting back in his chair and glaring at him.

“Not exactly my first choice for dinner conversation,” Danny said.

“Dinner's over,” Hayley said, returning to the table after depositing the dirty dishes in the sink.

“Any suspects, Chief?” Danny asked casually.

Sergio never took his eyes off Danny, working hard to intimidate him. “I have a few persons of interest.”

Danny nodded and cracked a half smile. “Well, with any luck, you'll find the piece of crap who knocked off poor old Uncle Otis and we can finally be done with all this messy business.”

“I will. Believe me,” Sergio said quietly and forcefully enough to cause Danny to shift in his seat uncomfortably.

“A bit cold in here, isn't it, Hayley? Want me to start a fire?” Danny said in an effort to change the subject.

“I'm perfectly comfortable, but thank you, Danny,” Hayley said.

“Really? Nobody else is a little chilly?”

The kids shook their heads.

Sergio just shrugged and gave him a look that said,
You're on your own, buddy
.

Randy appeared with a cocktail and set it down in front of Danny.

“Thank you, handsome,” Danny said, and then gulped down his drink to avoid any further discussion about his uncle Otis.

“Well, this has been fun but I have a long day ahead tomorrow,” Sergio said, signaling Randy that it was time to hit the road.

Hayley wrapped the leftover cheesecake in Saran Wrap and put it in the refrigerator as Randy and Sergio gave the kids hugs good night. Then Hayley led them to the door and gave them both kisses on the cheek.

“I'll call you tomorrow,” Randy said before following Sergio to the car.

As they drove away, Hayley stood in the doorway watching them go.

Danny sauntered up behind her and put his cold hands on her warm shoulders.

Her body shook slightly from his touch.

“See? You
are
cold,” Danny said, leaning forward and whispering in her ear.

“No. Your hands are cold.”

He rubbed her shoulders.

She fought the urge to lean her head back and rest it on his chest like she used to do.

That's when she noticed a sedan, a Toyota Camry or a similar model, parked across the street.

The lights were off but she could see the silhouettes of two men sitting in the front seats.

“Danny, look. Who are those guys?”

Danny squinted to get a good look at them, but then shook his head dismissively.

“Beats me.”

“Why are they just sitting there?”

“Maybe they're on a date.”

Hayley gave him a skeptical look. “It looks like they're watching the house.”

“You're being paranoid, babe. It's nothing. And trust me. I've never seen those guys before. Come on, let's go watch TV with the kids,” he said, spinning around and disappearing back inside the house.

Hayley wanted to believe him.

She really did.

But how could he know for sure that he didn't know those men who appeared to be staking out her house from across the street?

There was no way he could possibly see their faces in the dark.

The car was parked away from the streetlight in the shadows.

Unless he was lying to her.

Again.

Hayley immediately spotted the slinky blonde in the tight baby blue sweater, even tighter jeans, and furry tan boots sitting on top of a stool at the far end of the bar when she walked through the door of Drinks Like A Fish.

Randy had called her at work earlier to let her know a young woman in her mid-twenties had shown up at his bar asking all kinds of questions about Hayley.

She inspected the girl who was sipping on a cosmopolitan and ignoring the stares of a group of fishermen at a table behind her ogling her perky breasts and round butt and long, wavy blond hair.

Randy raced out of the kitchen through the revolving doors with a steaming plate of fried clams and set it down in front of the girl, whose eyes widened with delight.

“Do you have tartar sauce?”

“Coming right up,” Randy said, catching Hayley out of the corner of his eye and signaling that this was the woman who seemed to be so curious about her.

Hayley gave her another once-over but couldn't place her.

She had no idea who this voluptuous young woman was.

The woman picked up a fried clam and blew on it with her luscious ruby red lips as the fishermen behind her froze in place watching her gently slip the clam into her mouth.

She was slowly chewing it, moaning with ecstasy over the taste when she looked up and saw Hayley taking a seat on the empty stool next to her.

“Hayley? Hayley Powell?”

Hayley pretended it was sheer coincidence that she had just strolled into the bar at that moment, and that her brother had not called her to hightail it over there just as soon as she could to see if she was familiar with this buxom girl who was so curious about her.

“Yes, I'm Hayley. And you are . . . ?”

“Becky . . .”

The name didn't ring a bell at first.

But then, when she repeated the name to herself, it suddenly dawned on her who it was that was sitting right in front of her.

“Becky?”

“Yes. Becky Cameron,” she said with a bright smile.

This was Danny's Becky.

His wispy, IQ-deprived sexpot of a girlfriend for the past two and a half years.

Here in Bar Harbor.

“You're much prettier in person,” Becky said, studying Hayley's face. “The pictures Danny has of you don't do you justice.”

The way Becky said it made it seem like this was bad news. She obviously had a much dowdier image of Hayley in her mind and she was clearly disappointed that Hayley actually surpassed her first impression.

“What brings you to town, Becky?”

“Really? Do you honestly not know? I'm here to see Danny. He is still here, isn't he?”

“Oh, yes. He's not allowed to go anywhere.”

Becky grimaced. “I see. What kind of trouble has he gotten himself into this time?”

“I better let Danny explain. I was sorry to hear about you two breaking up. Sometimes Danny can be a bit challenged in the commitment department.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, he told me he ended your relationship before he came here to see the kids.”

“Is
that
what he told you?” Becky sneered, before picking up another fried clam and taking a big bite, oblivious to the enraptured fishermen sitting directly behind her nudging each other like rascally schoolboys. “Well, just to set the record straight, Hayley. Danny didn't dump me. I was the one who broke it off with him.”

“I'm sorry. He told me . . .”

“I'm sure he said anything in order to avoid looking like the lame loser who lost the best thing that ever happened to him, but facts are facts.”

Hayley nodded, having no intention of arguing with Becky. “Okay. So where are you staying while you're in town?”

“I booked a room at a quiet little motel just outside of town. It has a fireplace!”

“How long will you be in Bar Harbor?”

Becky shrugged. “I haven't thought that far ahead yet. I booked a one-way ticket. I just had to get here as soon as possible.”

“It sounds like you're a woman on a mission.”

“I am, Hayley. I'm here to take Danny back.”

“Oh. So I guess you've forgiven him for . . . whatever it is he did to cause you to break up with him?”

“Yes. I had this romantic notion of being a single girl again and going out with my friends and letting cute guys buy me drinks like in the good old days . . . but the reality wasn't close to what I thought it was going to be like, and those cute guys aren't so cute when they're drunk and horny. So I thought it was time I gave Danny one more chance.”

Hayley signaled Randy to bring her a Jack and Coke.

Becky stared at her for a long moment, making her supremely uncomfortable before saying, “I certainly hope Danny coming back here to see his children wasn't misconstrued or anything . . .”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you're not hoping you and Danny are going to get back together, are you? I really want us to be close gal pals, Hayley. But if you have designs on Danny, that's really going to squash our blossoming friendship.”

Hayley burst out laughing. “Designs on Danny . . . ? No . . . No, Becky . . . you have nothing to worry about . . .”

“What's so funny?”

“Just that you thought I was still interested in Danny and the idea of that is just so . . . so . . . crazy.”

“Why is that so crazy? You married him once.”

“Yes. And that's why it's so crazy. I would never make the same mistake twice. Especially a mistake that big!”

“Do you think I'm a fool for loving him? For giving him another chance to make me happy?”

Randy delivered the Jack and Coke, and Hayley gulped it down to give herself the strength to make it through this land mine–filled conversation.

“Absolutely not. Danny and I were like oil and water. But you two seem to complement each other,” Hayley blurted out, backpedaling as fast as she could. “It's an entirely different situation. But I want to assure you, Becky, and I am being one hundred percent honest here, I am
not
a threat to you. I have no interest in rekindling anything with Danny. He's all yours. Totally. I will never, ever, ever stand in the way of your relationship with him. I mean that with all my heart.”

Becky stared at her for almost a minute.

Hayley was confident she had finally gotten through to her.

But then, Becky said offhandedly, “I don't believe you.”

Hayley waved at Randy to bring her another Jack and Coke.

Pronto.

She was going to need it.

The door to the bar flew open and Danny plowed inside, panic-stricken. He took a deep breath at the sight of Hayley and Becky sitting side by side at the bar chatting away, and then marched over to them, plastering a big wide smile on his face.

“Becky, sweet pea, what are you doing here? I couldn't believe it when you texted me and said you were in town.”

Becky smiled like a Cheshire cat, grabbed his hand, and brushed it along the side of her cheek warmly. “I've missed you.”

She batted her eyes at him.

The fishermen watching melted.

They all pictured themselves as Danny getting stroked on the face by a hot, gorgeous blonde.

Danny just stood there awkwardly as she took his hand and kissed his fingers.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

And last but not least the pinkie.

“Hayley's been so sweet keeping me company until you showed up,” she said tracing the lifeline on the palm of his hand.

Danny slowly removed his hand and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

“Yes. She's been telling me all about how things ended between you two,” Hayley said pointedly.

Danny nodded, caught. “I need a beer.”

He waved at Randy, who went to the cooler for a bottle and brought it over to him.

Danny cleared his throat. “I guess she must have told you that I wasn't the one who ended things.”

“Yes, she may have mentioned that in passing,” Hayley said evenly.

“I didn't want you to think I had nowhere to go, and so that's why I came crawling back here. I wanted you to think I was in a good place, in charge of my life, had my act together.”

“Why, Danny? Why couldn't you just be up-front with me?” Hayley asked, exhausted from trying to decipher her husband's doublespeak.

“Because I want you back, Hayley,” Danny said.

It seemed to have just slipped out.

And as soon as the words rolled off his tongue, Danny sucked in air, hoping to pull them all back, but it was too late.

Becky's whole body tensed as she twisted around and stared at him. “
What
did you just say?”

“I . . . I still love her, Becky . . .”

Hayley wanted to bolt out the door.

But she was afraid to make any kind of sudden move.

“But I came all the way here to take you back . . . You can't do this to me . . .” Becky cried, quickly unraveling.

One fisherman at the table behind her pushed his chair back as if he was getting ready to take on the role of Prince Charming and swoop in to save this desperate damsel in distress, but his buddies quietly reminded him he smelled of fish bait and beer breath so he decided to stay put.

Becky slowly turned her head, her eyes boring into Hayley, who shuddered and winced.

“Seriously, I . . . I had no idea . . .” Hayley sputtered. “Really . . . What I told you is the truth . . . I have no intention of ever taking him back . . .”

Before she could finish, Becky picked up the plate of fried clams and hurled them at Danny, who ducked. The plate smashed on the floor, the fried clams scattering everywhere.

Then she went berserk, picking up bottles and glasses and throwing them everywhere.

The fishermen ducked underneath their table to avoid all the flying glass.

Randy raced out from behind the bar screaming at Becky, “Get out! Get out of my bar right now before I call the police!”

But Becky was in the zone.

There was no speaking to her rationally.

She was hell-bent on destroying everything in her path, upending tables and smashing beer mugs on the floor.

Randy plucked his cell phone out of the back pocket of his jeans and punched in 911.

Danny grabbed Hayley by the hand and yanked her toward the door.

“Come on, let's get the hell out of here before she kills us!”