Caramel Killer: A Pumpkin Hollow Mystery, book 12 by Kathleen Suzette

Author:Kathleen Suzette [Suzette, Kathleen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-10-13T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

“Mia, I’m getting ready to go home for the day,” Carrie Green said. “Is there anything else you need me to do before I leave?”

I shook my head. “No, I think everything’s taken care of. You go on home and have a good day.”

She grinned. “Thanks, I will.”

I was putting a fresh batch of peanut butter fudge into the display case when Jeff Lukens walked into the shop. I smiled at him. He was exactly the person I wanted to talk to. Ever since Fagan’s wife had said he was the killer I had been looking for an opportunity to speak to him. The problem was that I didn’t know where he worked, and I’d had no luck in running into him around town.

“Hi Jeff,” I said as I set the tray inside the display case and closed the door. “How are you today?”

He nodded and grinned. “Hi Mia, I’m doing great,” he said, walking up to the display case. “I see you just put a fresh batch of my very favorite flavor of fudge into it.”

“Peanut butter is one of my favorites, too,” I said. “Especially when my mother makes it.”

“Is your mother still making pumpkin spice fudge?” he asked, one eyebrow raised. “That’s my second favorite. Or maybe peanut butter fudge is my favorite when there isn’t any pumpkin spice, and I don’t see any in there.”

“No, she stopped making it when the Halloween season ended. I have suggested to her that she keep making it year-round since Pumpkin Hollow is a Halloween themed town, but she thought it wouldn’t be as special if it was available every day. She has a point I guess, but I sure do miss it when it’s gone.” I leaned on the front counter as he looked into the display case.

“Well, I can’t argue with her there,” he said, looking over the offerings. “I love it too, but I guess I’ll have to wait until Pumpkin Hollow Days come around again. Why don’t you give me a quarter pound of the peanut butter fudge and four of the white chocolate truffles?”

“You got it,” I said and pulled out the tray of fudge. “It was a shame what happened to Fagan, wasn’t it? Aren’t you a friend of his?” I cut a piece of fudge and put it on the scale.

He frowned. “Yes, we were best friends nearly all our lives. We met in the fifth grade and immediately struck up a friendship. I just can’t get over it. Fagan was a good guy, everyone liked him.” He shook his head. “It still doesn’t seem real.”

“Fagan really was a nice guy,” I said and as I wrapped up his fudge. “I feel terrible for his wife. What a terrible thing to have to go through.”

He nodded. “I can’t imagine it. My wife died of cancer seven years ago, but that was different. It was after a lengthy illness and as terrible as it was, I expected it. But Fagan being murdered? No way was I expecting that.

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