CHAPTER TEN

“You leave my son out of this,” Hope fired back.

Before the fingers became fists, I decided to step in. “We won’t bother your son, Hope, but we need to follow up on any leads, so I suggest you talk it out with us, not threaten us.”

Hope dropped her finger and sat back. “Who told you about Chip?”

“Is that your son?” Abby asked.

“Yes. And I want to know who told you he was expelled.”

“Let’s just say it was gossip and move on,” Abby told her. “Gossip seems to spread like wildfire around here, doesn’t it?”

Hope crossed her arms over her chest and looked away. “We’re done here. Don’t bother coming back. And don’t expect any more help from me.”

Abby glanced at me. “Do you have any other questions?”

I read over the answers I’d typed in. “I can’t think of any.”

Abby rose, and so did I. “Then I think that will do it for now.”

Hope didn’t say a word, so we left.

On our way back to Abby’s ’Vette, I said, “Hope was really defensive about her son.”

Abby agreed. “If Carly was indeed behind Hope’s son’s expulsion,” she said, “and it seems like she was, then Hope has a motive for murder.”

“It’s hard to imagine a woman killing another woman because her son was expelled,” I said.

“I’ve seen people kill for less.” Abby slid into the driver’s seat, and I climbed into the passenger seat. “Look at it this way,” she said, starting the engine, “Hope’s a teacher at the school, and her husband is the chief of police. It would be awfully embarrassing for them to have their son get into that kind of trouble.”

“The question in my mind,” I said as I put the hair tie back in, “is whether Hope was alone backstage long enough to poison Carly’s water bottle.”

“If I remember correctly,” Abby said, “Hope’s dressing room was right next Carly’s. It wouldn’t take long for Hope to steal the bottle while Carly was out, bring it into her dressing room, poison the water, and slip the bottle back into Carly’s room, especially if nobody was really paying that much attention.”

“It would take a lot of nerve,” I said. “And by the way, you handled yourself pretty well when Hope put her finger in your face.”

“I don’t take well to bullies, and Hope’s actions definitely fall into that category. And thank you for throwing water onto the fire. That could’ve gotten ugly.”

“Did you notice how eager Hope was to throw everyone else under the bus?” I asked.

Abby nodded. “My inner radar was going off like crazy.”

“Your inner radar?”

She smiled. “It’s just a gut feeling I get. Like the way Hope used her husband as a shield, and the way she gossiped about everyone. There’s more to that story, and I think it warrants further investigation.”

“Hope said something about Carly’s son being a liar,” I said. “What do you think she was talking about?”

Abby turned the corner. “Probably about the bullying. Unfortunately, Carly isn’t around to defend the accusation.”

“But Donald is,” I said. “Maybe he can enlighten us.”

“That’s what I wanted to remember,” Abby exclaimed. “Hope confirmed that Donald was at the show. That’s something I need to share with Detective Walters. I’ll give him a call today, and hopefully he’ll follow up on it. In the meantime, we need to write up a list of questions for Donald.”

I pulled my iPad out of my purse. “I’ll start that list right now.”

“When do you want to go see him?” Abby asked.

“Let’s check with Case.”

When we got back to the office, Case was working on his computer. “How did the interview go?” he asked, looking up.

“Hope wasn’t very helpful,” I told him. “We heard a lot of gossip, especially about the mayor. According to her, he was having an affair with Carly when she died.”

“Does the info ring true?” he asked.

“Nothing about Hope rang true.” Abby sat down in front of Case’s desk. “I don’t trust her word on anything.”

“It’s hard to believe her,” I agreed and took a seat beside her. “If Charles Sloan had been seeing other women, it would’ve been all over the local news.”

“However,” Abby said, “there is such a thing as hush money. He might have paid the other women to keep quiet.”

“Let’s suppose that’s true,” Case said. “What if Carly threatened to expose their affair anyway?”

“For what reason?” I asked.

“Maybe to force him to leave his wife,” Case said. “Maybe to blackmail him. Who knows? But we have to consider it as a possibility.”

“Have we considered the security guard?” Abby asked. “He was backstage twice—once before the show, according to reports. And we know he works for the mayor.”

“Then you’re saying he could’ve poisoned Carly’s water for the mayor,” I said.

“We can’t rule out that possibility,” Abby answered.

“Were you able to set up an interview with the mayor?” I asked Case.

“I’ve called three times, and each time I was told I would be contacted with a date and time. I think we’re going to have to show up in person.”

“Maybe we can do that tomorrow,” I said.

“Okay, it’s on the calendar.” Case sat back in his chair. “What about a motive for Hope?”

“Hope and Carly were strongly at odds over their sons,” I said. “Hope was furious that Carly had managed to have her son expelled. She got very defensive when Abby pressed her on the issue. She jabbed her finger in Abby’s face and threatened her.”

“She threatened you?” Case asked.

“She threatened to send her husband to talk to us,” Abby said. “And I believe she would.”

“Then that’s something we should consider,” Case told us. “The last thing we need in this business is to have the police chief as an enemy.”

“We can’t back down from a bully,” Abby insisted. “That only gives Hope and her husband more power.”

“Then at least tread carefully,” he said. “For the sake of the agency.”

“We can do that,” I told him.

“So, what’s next on the schedule?” Case asked.

“We need to interview Donald Blackburn,” I said. “How do you recommend we go about doing that?”

“Donald has an office at his casino,” Case told us. “He walks the floor with the pit bosses in the evenings. We might have to catch him that way. I’ve called several times with no response, but I can keep trying.”

“I’d rather catch him off guard,” Abby said. “Why don’t we head over to the riverboat after supper?”

“We’re taking my son to the county fair this evening,” I said. “You’re welcome to join us.”

Abby pondered the offer for a moment. “I absolutely love the fair, but I have some more work to do. What about tomorrow evening?”

“I’ll put it on the calendar.” Case reached for the keyboard. “Let’s plan on going around eight.”

“I need to check with Delphi,” I told them. “I might have to close at Spencer’s.”

“Then let’s meet back here tomorrow afternoon,” he suggested. “We can solidify plans then. Athena, what time are we leaving for the fair tonight?”

“How about six o’clock?”

“Perfect. We can grab some fair food before we hit the rides.”

My stomach was already turning.

* * *

As we drove up to the fairgrounds that evening, Nicholas was practically jumping out of his seat with excitement. Through the relative darkness of the highway, the bright, shining Ferris wheel loomed over the midway like a beacon—or, in my view, like a giant bug zapper, beckoning the poor, unwitting insects to their doom. I tried to match my son’s enthusiasm but found myself compiling a list of reasons why we should leave the fair as early as possible.

“Look at that one, Mom!” Nicholas cried.

I turned around to find him sticking his head out of the Jeep’s rear door, pointing high into the sky as a teetering tangle of metal beams swung back and forth, reaching a dizzying height, leaving the patrons momentarily suspended upside down. I had to look away. “Nicholas, sit down. Is your seat belt still on?”

He sat back down. “Yeah, don’t worry.”

Case reached over, put his hand on my knee, and said very quietly, “Are you sure you can handle this? You seem rattled already.”

“It’s too late now,” I whispered, as Case followed a line of cars turning into the entrance. He had to use two hands to steer his way across the lumpy, grassy field surrounding the fairgrounds.

“It smells like the fertilizer at Spencer’s,” Nicholas said with a giggle, covering his nose. “Lots of fertilizer.”

I had to agree. The smells of the fair were wafting through the open Jeep doors. “That’s horse poop,” I said. “There’s a horse show tonight.” I looked back at my son. “Are you hungry yet?”

Case and Nicholas both laughed.

“I’m starving,” Case said. “How about you, Niko?”

“I want to go on rides!” Nicholas answered. “Where should we go first?”

I listened to the two talk as Case wove through the grassy field, looking for a spot to park. Afterward, as we made our way to the front gates, the grass transitioned to mud, which then turned into loose gravel, and finally, to blacktop. I swiped my shoes against the ground while Case paid our entrance fees, then I pulled out some cash and gave it to Nicholas so he could buy tickets at the first ticket booth we saw.

“Where to first?” Case asked me.

I motioned to the right, where a wide expanse of blacktop led past the exhibition halls, the source of the fertilizer smells. “I think we should avoid that area if we plan on keeping our appetite.”

Off to the left was the midway, where the terrified screams and loud-as-locomotive carnival rides competed with the hard-thumping music blaring over the loudspeakers. “Let’s save the rides for later, too.”

I pointed forward, where food stands lined the thoroughfare. A woman holding a cotton candy bag the size of a small child knocked into me as she passed. She turned to glare at me, as if my slender frame was the problem. I glared back.

“Mom,” Nicholas said excitedly, “I got twenty tickets!” His infectious smile stifled my sour mood.

“Let’s get some food first and then play some games on the midway,” I said.

Nicholas caught sight of a pirate ship practically sailing straight over our heads. “Pirate ship first!” he called out.

Case and I followed him through the gates onto the midway, then I held the tickets and Case’s phone while they waited in line. Across from the ride was an empty bench, so I quickly snatched a spot away from the crowd to wait. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of something surprisingly familiar—a thick crop of long black curls bouncing through the crowd. Then I caught a glimpse of a bright pink-and-white tie-dyed skirt and knew it had to be Delphi.

Yep. The matching pink flip-flops gave it away. Without thinking, I followed my sister, whom I noticed was holding hands with her beau, Bob Maguire. I struggled to catch up, continually interrupted by clusters of people who seemed to pop up out of nowhere. When I did finally catch another glimpse of Delphi, I saw the couple walk into a big brown brick building near the fairground’s back entrance.

I caught up with Delphi inside the building. She was bent over a desk filling out a form. “Delphi!”

Hearing her name, she turned. Bob turned, as well, both giving me a startled look. Delphi spoke first. “Athena. Hi.”

“Athena,” Bob said with a grin.

“Delph, you’re supposed to be helping Pops at the store. What are you doing here?”

“We just came to”—she paused and turned to Bob, stuttering a bit before answering. “We—we aren’t staying long. Besides, Dad and Drew are closing the store early. There were no customers. Everyone’s here.”

I glanced up at a sign posted above her head in big, old-fashioned letters that read COUNTY FAIR DANCE CONTEST. My eyebrows drew together in confusion.

Delphi noticed my expression. “Okay, yes, we’re entering a dance contest,” she fired at me, “and I was hoping to keep it a secret from the family.”

“Wait a minute,” I said. “This is your big secret?”

“What are you talking about?” Delphi asked.

“I heard you with a young couple in the conference room yesterday. You were talking about engagement rings, and, well, I just thought . . .”

“Oh. My. God. Athena. I knew you were spying on me outside of the conference room! Is that why Mom has been pestering me so much lately? Does she think Bob and I are getting engaged?”

Bob lifted his collar with one finger and stretched his chin uncomfortably. Poor Bob always did fluster easily.

“I was just admiring their ring!” Delphi continued frantically. “You have to tell Mama I’m not engaged.”

“Delphi, relax,” I said. “All she wants to know is why you’re taking dance lessons.”

“Don’t tell Mama about the contest, Athena. She’ll give me the third degree if I bring it up.”

Bob put his arm around my sister’s shoulders. “It’ll be okay, Delph. Athena will handle it.”

“When’s the dance contest?” I asked.

“On the closing night of the fair,” Bob answered.

“That sounds like fun,” I said. “But why don’t you want the family to know, Delph?”

“I don’t want them to know yet,” she insisted. “I’ll tell them the day before the contest. That way Mama will leave me alone.”

“I think you’re worrying for nothing,” I replied.

“For nothing?” Delphi cried. “Have you met our mother?”

“I get your point,” I said. “If you’re finished here, we can go find Niko and Case. Niko will be so excited to see you.”

We exited the building and headed back toward the midway. As we drew near the giant pirate ship, Nicholas came rushing out of the gate followed by Case at a much slower pace.

“That was fun!” Nicholas cried, while Case took a seat on the empty bench and looked at me with a wan face.

“And that wasn’t even a spinner,” I said to Case. “Just wait.”

“Thea Delphi!” Nicholas cried. He practically jumped into her arms. “Want to go on the Tilt-a-Whirl with me? I have tickets.”

“After dinner, Niko,” my sister said. “Thea Delphi needs some food.”

After a few minutes of chatting, we all decided to head over to the food tent, where they were serving pulled pork and sweet, buttered corn on the cob. We loaded our plates with food, and then, as we sat at a picnic table and ate, the conversation shifted to the murder investigation.

“Detective Walters is watching me like a hawk,” Bob said. “He knows I help you, and he hates it. Especially now, when he just wants this case closed.”

“We have got to find out what kind of poison was used,” I told Bob. “We have several suspects, but without that information, we’ll have a hard time going much further.”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Bob said. “You could try calling the state lab. See if you can find someone willing to talk.”

Case laughed. “I tried that already. Everyone seems insistent on keeping their jobs.”

“Yeah,” Bob said. “So do I.”

“Enough murder talk,” Delphi insisted. “Let’s go win a goldfish.”

“Tilt-a-Whirl,” Nicholas exclaimed. “Then goldfish.”

“No goldfish!” I said. “You have Oscar. That’s enough.”

“Come on!” Nicholas said to Case. “Before the crowd gets too big.”

Case finished his last bite of corn and wiped the butter from his mouth. “You and Delphi might have to take this one, Officer Maguire.”

“Let’s go, Niko,” Bob said. “Luckily for you, I have an iron stomach.”

We had just walked out of the big tent when I heard my name, then Case’s. We turned to find Lila Talbot strutting through the crowd, waving her clutch purse at us. She was dressed in an off-white linen dress pulled tight at the waist by a dark blue belt, finished off by bright-red high heels. Her hair was tied back with a red polka-dot scarf. Resting above her left breast was a large, round red, white, and blue button with Mayor Sloan’s smiling face on it.

“You’re just in time,” she said, threading her arm through Case’s. “Come with me.”

“Wait a minute,” I said. “Just in time for what?”

“The speech,” she said. “Mayor Sloan is giving a speech before the concert tonight. I’m on my way over to the bandstand right now.”

Case politely pulled himself free from Lila’s clutches and said to me quietly, “We might be able to talk to the mayor after his speech and pin him down on an interview time.”

“Good idea.” I turned to my sister and said, “Delphi, we’re going to the bandstand to hear the mayor. Would you and Bob watch Niko for a while?”

“Sure,” Delphi said. “We’ll take Niko and catch up with you later.”

Nicholas took a firm grip of her hand, then Bob’s, and bounced up and down. “Come on! Let’s go on the Tilt-a-Whirl.”

“I don’t do fast rides,” Delphi said.

“You’re in luck again, bud,” Maguire told him, “because the Tilt-a-Whirl just happens to be my favorite. And your aunt promised that if I took dance lessons with her, she would go on rides with me. Remember that, Delphi?”

Delphi scowled. “Not that I can recall.”

“Come on,” Nicholas called. “Follow me.”

“Thank you, both of you,” I told them. “Let’s meet up afterward, and I’ll buy you all a cotton candy.”

“Elephant ears!” Nicholas said.

“I’ll take the cotton candy,” Delphi said. And then, as Nicholas bounded ahead, she pointed her finger at me. “You owe me.”

* * *

The grandstand was filled to the brim with revelers waving flags and voters holding signs that read Vote for Mayor Sloan and Keep Sequoia Small. Lila led us past the crowd through a side entrance protected by security. She flashed her plastic ID and was let into a fenced walkway that circled the stage. “This is so exciting,” she said over the noisy crowd.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“You can stand with me in the VIP section,” she answered.

The roped-off area had a great side view of the stage and a firsthand view of the massive crowd. I was perfectly fine being away from the chaos and felt quite comfortable in our own private section. Up on the stage, the big-band musicians had already settled into position, each one tuning his instrument, preparing for the show. Front and center was a podium, complete with microphone, ready for the mayor’s speech.

Case joined me next to Lila. “It looks like the mayor welcomed you into his inner circle,” he said.

“With open arms,” Lila answered. “I didn’t even have to pressure him. Charles knew I would be an asset.” She looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “And I didn’t have to flirt, either.”

“Have you learned anything yet?” Case asked. “Has he mentioned Carly or the fashion show?”

“He hasn’t mentioned Carly’s name, but I can tell you Carly was instrumental in running his campaign. Charles seems lost without her. He put me to work right away.”

The lights on stage went dark, and the crowd grew silent in anticipation. From behind the stage a security guard headed our way. He was dressed in a black suit with dark hair trimmed close to the scalp. His head was on a swivel as he passed by our private area, his eyes scanning in all directions, pausing briefly on me, his stony expression sending shivers up my spine. He stopped at the stairs leading up to the stage and spoke into his cuff, his suit pulling taut across his broad chest and shoulders.

Lila leaned in closer. “Wait until you hear what I came up with for the speech. The crowd is going to go wild.”

Charles Sloan came walking past us next with several people surrounding him, all talking, shuffling through papers and notecards. When he spotted me, he stopped and smiled, flashing bright white teeth and deep dimples, looking every bit like his campaign button. His thick hair was perfectly styled with a traditional part at the side, showing off a bit of gray above the ears—just enough aging to portray wisdom.

The smile, as well as his confident stride, seemed at odds with what Lila had said about him. He didn’t seem lost without Carly. In fact, he seemed more self-assured than I’d ever seen him.

“Athena Spencer,” he said confidently. He held out his arm. “Come! Join me on stage.”

The thought of being on stage in front of the huge throng made my palms sweat instantly. “No, thank you,” I said with a polite smile.

“Oh, come on! The people would love to hear from you.”

“I’m not good in front of crowds. I’m fine right here, thanks.”

Then the band started. The bass drum thrummed in the background as the trumpets began to play in harmony. More brass instruments joined in, playing a patriotic melody that swept through the crowd, bringing them to their feet, until the music reached a crescendo and the bright lights lit up the stage. The mayor made one last adjustment to the sleeves of his dark-blue pin-striped suit and trotted up the stairs, the crowd bursting with applause at the sight of him.

To say that Charles Sloan was well-liked seemed to be an extraordinary understatement at that moment. He moved from one side of the stage to the other, waving, pointing, and of course, flashing that brilliant smile. After taking his place behind the podium, he positioned the microphone and waited for the band to finish. The crowd quieted with the band.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” the mayor started. “It’s so great to see everyone here tonight. I can’t tell you how grateful I am, and with your unceasing support, we will continue to make Sequoia the best small town in America.”

More applause, which the mayor took in stride. “And when I say ‘small town,’ I’m not talking about size. Sequoia continues to grow. We continue to thrive. No, when I say ‘small town,’ I’m talking about community. I’m talking about the sense of ownership and pride that comes when the community stands together, when the community provides for one another.

“Look around you. Look at the faces of your neighbors and friends. These are the people that make Sequoia special. You won’t find that same sense of pride from some big corporation. You won’t see those same friendly faces when shopping at a mega-mall. Sure, you might save a few dollars in the short term, but I’m not thinking short term. We want to keep Sequoia thriving for years to come, and the only way to do that is to keep . . . Sequoia. . . small!”

He emphasized the last few words, pointing his hand at the crowd with each, and the crowd ate it up. They jumped to their feet and cheered.

The mayor continued. “I’d like to introduce someone who knows what it means to keep Sequoia small. Lila Talbot, join me onstage.”

Lila turned to us first, her palms together as though in prayer. “Wish me luck.”

She trotted up the stairs in her red heels and joined the mayor on stage, receiving a smattering of applause. Thanks to her ex-husband, now in prison, most of the people in town knew the Talbot name, but not many knew the woman. I held Case’s hand in mine, anxious about what she might say.

“Lila Talbot has been on a mission,” Charles Sloan started. “First, she was instrumental in fending off the Talbot Company from demolishing our beloved Little Greece.”

She was instrumental? That wasn’t right.

“Then she was on the front lines in the fight against Pete Harmon, when he threatened to turn our sacred dune land into a parking lot.”

Lila was on the front lines? That wasn’t right, either. I looked at Case, who was shaking his head. Leave it to Lila to take all the credit. Sure, she did help save the dunes, and she did help us put her husband, Sonny Talbot, in prison, but instrumental? On the front lines? I wondered if that’s what she came up with for the mayor’s speech, why she thought the crowd would go wild.

But to my complete surprise, the crowd did go wild. Lila stood proudly in the spotlight, smiling and waving. I couldn’t believe it.

Case turned to me and said, “You’re squeezing my hand, sweetheart.”

I apologized and let go.

“But that’s only the beginning,” Mayor Sloan continued. “Lila Talbot has also funded the creation of an organization dedicated to making sure these kinds of criminals will never get a foothold in our town. Speaking of which—” The mayor turned to face the VIP area.

I felt a cold chill wash over me as we locked eyes.