I hit his listing on my phone and waited. “Ethan,” I whispered into the phone when he mumbled hello.
“Mia?” he mumbled.
“Ethan,” I whispered again. “You need to come down to the carousel. Suzanne Wilson is dead.”
“Mia,” he said, sounding more alert now. “What do you mean Suzanne is dead? At the carousel? What are you doing there? What time is it?”
“It’s just after four o’clock. I decided to drive down this way, and I saw the carousel lights still on. I stopped to see why they were left on and Suzanne was slumped over on one of the carousel benches. Dead.”
“Are you sure she’s dead?” he asked. I could hear him fumbling about on the other end of the line and I thought he must have gotten out of bed and stumbled over something.
“If she’s not, she soon will be. She hasn’t moved and hasn’t responded to me calling her name. There’s blood on her costume.”
“Costume? What costume?”
“She played the part of Santa’s elf last night, remember?”
“I forgot. Did you check for a pulse?” he asked.
“No, I really think she’s dead. Please don’t asked me to check for a pulse.”
“Mia, please check for a pulse. I’m going to hang up and dial 911 and have an ambulance sent. Check for her pulse and if she’s alive, place something over the wound. I’ll be right there.”
I nodded, forgetting he couldn’t see that. My phone went dead, and I stared at it, trying to figure out what I was supposed to do. Then I remembered he wanted me to check for a pulse. I glanced back at Suzanne and shuddered. Her eyes stared lifelessly at the ground, and I reached for her wrist. She wore white velvet gloves, and I slid my fingers under the cuff, but her skin was cold. There was no pulse.
I let her arm drop, turned away, and walked down off the carousel. I moved around to the side so that I couldn’t see Suzanne anymore and I waited.
Within a few minutes I heard sirens and I shivered in the cold. I should have headed straight to the candy store. I didn’t have any business being here. Someone else would have found her eventually. It was selfish, but I didn’t want to see another dead body.
Ethan beat the ambulance, but only by about a minute and a half. He parked his car and jogged over to where I stood with my arms wrapped around myself.
“Where is she?”
I pointed, and he hurried up the carousel steps and around the side. I followed after him and watched as he knelt beside Suzanne and checked for a pulse.
“I did that. I checked for a pulse just like you told me too,” I said numbly. “She’s dead.”
He nodded without looking at me and then sat back on his heels. “She’s gone all right. She won’t be handing out any more presents this year.” He turned and looked at me. “What were you doing over here?”
“I don’t know. I was thinking about all the fun we had last night and decided to drive past the carousel on my way to work. I know it’s out of the way, but I just suddenly had a desire to see the carousel. When I saw the lights on, I stopped, thinking maybe I could turn them off if I could find the power switch. It seemed odd that they were left on all night.”
He stood up and came over to me. Placing his hands on my upper arms he looked into my eyes. “Are you okay?”
I nodded. “I’m fine. Really, it just shocked me. Who would kill Santa’s elf?”
“I don’t know, but I intend to find out.”
I nodded again. “I wonder why the lights were left on the carousel? You would have thought Sam would have turned them off when he left last night.”
“That’s a great question. Why don’t you go to work and I’ll take care of things from here?”
“You might need some help,” I said. “Don’t you need some help?” I probably wouldn’t be much help to him, but I offered anyway. Ethan was the acting police detective in Pumpkin Hollow, and he had handled his share of murders. He knew what he was doing. But I usually assisted, unofficially of course, by asking around town. Sometimes people would talk to me who wouldn’t want to talk to the police.
He chuckled softly. “Mia, I don’t need any help. Your mother is expecting you at work, and she will worry when you don’t show up. Why don’t you go now?”
I sighed, my breath hanging in the air between us in a white fog. “I guess you’re right. Why don’t I pick up some coffee for you? It’s cold out here,” I offered. My friend Amanda and her husband Brian own the Little Coffee Shop of Horrors, but I knew they wouldn’t be open until five o’clock.
“I doubt anything other than the gas stations are open right now. I’ll be fine. You go back to work before your mom worries.”
I groaned. He was right. I glanced at my phone and saw that it was almost 4:30. “All right, I’m going. Let me know what you find out.”
He chuckled again as the guys from the ambulance hurried up the side of the carousel. “I’ll talk to you later.”
He turned away from me and I watched as the EMTs went to Suzanne’s body. I had had high hopes for the Christmas season, and they had just been dashed. Murdering an elf was about as low as you could get.
Chapter Three
I
