Read Liz Marvin - Betty Crawford 03 - Too Long at the Fair Online

Authors: Liz Marvin

Tags: #Mystery: Cozy - Diabetic Amateur Detective

Liz Marvin - Betty Crawford 03 - Too Long at the Fair (7 page)

BOOK: Liz Marvin - Betty Crawford 03 - Too Long at the Fair
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Thelma sighed as the girl disappeared. “I wish I had half her energy.”

 

“You and me both,” Betty agreed.  “But it would be wasted on me because I would never run eight miles through the dark for two buckets of creek water.”  Thelma laughed.  It was quiet, almost birdlike and delicate but it was genuine.  Betty took Thelma’s hand and led her to a bench, sitting down and never letting go.  Thelma looked into Betty’s face and read the truth.

 

“It was somebody I know.”  Not a question.  Betty nodded and squeezed her hands.  “Thelma I just don’t know how else to say it. It was Marlee May.”  Thelma didn’t react.  Betty took a deep breath and tried again “Marlee May Johnson is dead.”

 

Thelma pulled free and stood up.  “No!  She can’t be dead.  She has to bake …”   Thelma fainted.  Betty jumped up in time to catch her.  She lowered her to the dirt floor and held her in a sitting position and waited for her to regain consciousness.

 

Clarise arrived with Mrs. Livingston and Edna Rail “Betty this is all I could round up – oh!”

 

Clarise didn’t need to ask what happened.  She knew. Ira Livingston and Edna Rail clearly did not.  They rushed to gather up Thelma and care for her, sparing dirty looks for Betty who gladly relinquished her spot.

 

Betty sidled up to Clarise “How did you manage not telling them?”

 

“I’m an actress. I improvised.”

 

Thelma came around and immediately dissolved into tears.  She was unable to talk.  Ira and Edna quietly fought for the privilege of having Thelma’s head resting on her shoulder.  Thelma obliged them both slipping from one embrace to the other, sobbing uncontrollably all the while. 

 

Clarise pulled Betty away.  “Leave them their privacy.”  Betty snorted in disgust but allowed herself to be pulled to the back of the tent. “They’ll sort things out and comfort each other better without our help and besides you need a break.”

 

Betty and Clarise sat down together at the back of the tent.  “This is not how I pictured being a judge at the fair when I was a little girl.”

 

Clarise grinned. “You really dreamed of becoming a judge?”

 

Betty grinned back. “You’re the center of attention, people take your opinion seriously and all the great food you can eat.”

 

“And then the fair is attacked by a gang of thieves, the contest is vandalized and one of the contestants is murdered.”

 

“Do you think they’re all related?”

 

“Do you think it’s just coincidence?”

 

Betty rubbed her temples. “I don’t have to think.  I just have to smile and taste things.  Little tiny bites.”  Clarise gave her a hug and Betty just naturally hugged her back.  “We’ll get through this, Bill and Wes will catch the crooks and the murderer.”

 

“And you and Achmed and Gladys will get me through this cooking competition in one piece.”

 

Betty watched as Ira carried her purse to the stove.  She opened the bag and removed three tea bags.  Betty had always wondered what the gossiping grannies carried in their voluminous purses and now she knew.  Mrs. Livingston found three cups and dipped each into the water on the stove, adding a tea bag and setting it aside.  Glaring at Betty and Clarise she humphed and turned her back on them, returning to her friends still seated on the dirt floor.

 

Betty and Clarise waited until they had finished their tea and moved stiffly onto chairs before approaching them.  “I’m sorry -”

 

“You should be!  Keeping us in the dark while you terrorize poor Thelma!”  Ira Livingston was winding herself up.  Betty had to stop her.

 

“I’m sorry but we have to ask you some questions.  What kind of purse did Marlee May have with her today?”

 

“Well I never!  Of all the rude insensitive -”

 

“Because there was no purse with her.”

 

“Those teen agers probably took it.  Has your boyfriend arrested them yet?”

 

Betty felt her face flush not with embarrassment but anger.  “If you don’t know then perhaps one of the other gossiping grannies might.”

 

There.  She had said it. She had called them the name that must not be spoken. Everyone knew the little clique of older women who made everyone else’s business their business but nobody called them the name to their faces.  A sign of deference and respect for their age and the fact that they were basically good hearted and harmless.  But not today.  If they wanted to hurt Betty she would hurt them right back.

 

Thelma regained her composure first.  “She had her Tony Salieri Italian leather pink paisley petite hobo.  Twelve and one half inch drop leather hoop handles and a zipper top.  She used to joke that the drop was a thousand dollars an inch only she wasn’t joking.”

 

“Do you know what she carried in it?”

 

The three women looked at Betty like she’d grown another head.

 

“No” they answered as one.

 

Clarise took Betty’s arm.  “Please don’t talk about this with anyone.” she said over her shoulder as she pulled Betty outside.  The three women, heads together, whispering, ignored her.

 

~

 

Bill and Wes were approaching just as the two women escaped the cook tent.  “I can’t believe you called them the gossiping grannies to their face!”  Clarise giggled.  “Well if the whole town knows about it by tomorrow morning I’ll know who to blame!” Betty laughed. 

 

“Someone want to let us in on the joke?”  Wes asked.  The two women turned to him and deadpanned “no” and the dissolved in infectious laughter but Wes and Bill weren’t laughing.  Clarise noticed first and calmed herself down.  “Tony Salieri paisley leather purse.”

 

“Pink” Betty added, smiling.  “I can download a photo from the web and send it to you.”

 

“We’ll take care of that.”  The Statie finally spoke up.  Are the friends of the deceased inside?”  He nodded toward the tent just as Thelma screamed.

 

10. Chapter 9

Thelma, Edna and Ira were each laid out on a cot at the nurse’s station.  Gladys made quick rounds between the three women, fluffing pillows, keeping them sitting up and sipping tea.

 

“Strangest thing I’ve seen in just about forever. Just plain strange.”  Gladys was talking to herself but also for the benefit of Bill, Clarise and Betty.

 

“All three of them have nausea, elevated heart rates and headaches and they can barely sit up let alone stand.  I’d blame it on stress but not with all three exhibiting the same symptoms. I just don’t know.”

 

“They all had some tea that Edna made.”

 

“And Edna drank.” Clarise pointed out. 

 

“Maybe something in the creek water that Addie was using?”  Betty suggested.

 

“The water was boiling.  That would sterilize anything unless, maybe there’s a busted septic system upstream or somebody dumped some solvents in the stream…”

 

“All hypothetical. The Statie took a water sample.  They’ll figure it out.”

 

“I should tell Addie.”  Clarise said and Betty nodded, wishing she’d thought of it.  Bill nodded too and gave Betty a squeeze.

 

“Will they be all right?”  Bill asked.

 

Gladys leaned over and whispered to them “I’d have kicked them out half an hour ago if it was anybody else but these three; what with the loss they all had tonight I’ll fuss over them a bit longer.  You two go on home.”

 

“I am surrounded by good women.” Bill answered.  “Thank you.”

 

“You get this one home and get a glass of red wine in her.”

 

Bill grinned “I don’t know where that came from but I like where it’s going.”

 

“Oh hush.  She needs her rest and so do you though I don’t know why I’m wasting my breath lecturing you youngsters you’ll do whatever you aim to do anyway just get going and leave this poor old woman alone to tend to her piteous charges.”

 

Just then Wes showed up. “Lipstick cams are up and running.  The Staties will be watching all night.  I’ll take over tomorrow morning.”

 

Clarise immediately attached herself to Wes “give me a ride home?”

 

I really hope I don’t look that goofy when I smile at Bill Betty thought, knowing full well she probably looked worse.  Bill took her arm.  “Looks like you’re giving me a ride home.”    Betty fished the keys out of her pocket and handed them to Bill “I don’t like to drive while I’m preparing to drink.”

 

“One glass!” Gladys added.

 

“Take the keys, Bill.” Clarise chimed in “She turns into Miss Hyde behind the wheel.”

 

“Oh please!” Betty said but Bill took the keys and gave her a kiss and her heart only skipped a little bit of a beat. 

 

“Come on.  Let’s leave these rubes to the carnival.”

 

Betty took him by the arm, stuck her tongue out at Clarise who, smiling, responded in kind and the couples left together.

 

“You’ll never guess who I ran into today and he wants to hire us both.”  Clarise said as they made their way through the empty fairgrounds.  “I don’t care I am not talking to you and the only reason I’ll invite you to stop in for a glass of wine is because Wes is such a gentleman.”

 

Ahead they spotted a Yankee civil war re-enactor apparently on guard duty, marching with his reproduction rifle on his shoulder.   Bill and Wes slowed in unison and the girls fell silent.  Bill let go of Betty and Wes did the same with Clarise.  Wes slipped into the shadows as Bill marched up to the pretend soldier.

 

Betty grabbed Clarise who returned the favor.  They moved as one into the shadows opposite Wes. 

 

“What are you up to?” Bill asked the re-enactor who immediately froze at some semblance of attention.

 

“We – well, I heard there was some trouble at the fair and well I thought maybe I would walk around like a guard sort of and maybe keep anybody from trying anything. Sir.”

 

Bill forced himself not to smile. He spoke a trifle louder than necessary, like he was trying to reach an unseen audience.   “I appreciate the thought but there are state patrolmen making rounds and unlike you they have real guns but they might not recognize yours as a reproduction in the dark.  I suggest you hurry on back to your bivouac and get some sleep.”

 

The faux soldier blinked rapidly. “Bivouac?”

 

“Camp!  He means campgrounds!” Clarise called from the shadows.  The man relaxed and lowered his prop gun to the ground, smiling.  “Miss Birdsong is that you?  I was wondering if I could give you my headshot -”

 

“Tomorrow.” Bill cut in.  “Give it to her tomorrow.  Now, back to camp.”

 

The soldier gave a crooked salute and left at a trot.  Wes, Betty and Clarise joined Bill. 

 

“There were two others behind the kettle corn stand.” Wes said, “They took off when you called out their sentry.” 

 

“They were sure quiet about it.”

 

“Probably just kids out larking about after hours.”

 

“Or pros casing the area.” 

 

“The Staties will see them on the video feeds and draw their own conclusions.  Ask them in the morning.”

 

“Will do” and with that Wes and Clarise disappeared into the night.  Clarise cast a worried glance back over her shoulder at her friend but Betty and Bill were already lost to the outside world.

 

“You are so … good” Betty observed “and good at your job too.”

 

Bill sighed “I like it a lot more when I don’t have to be.  Now with the county and state gendarmes crawling all over the place getting in each other’s way and carving out areas where they can be in charge instead of finding ways to work together and solve the crimes.  I miss the days when my biggest problem was opening the door for crew members who showed up late and staying late for crew members who worked late.”

 

Betty giggled.  “I used to show up late just so you would open the door for me.”

 

Bill spun her around and grabbed her by the shoulders holding her at arm’s length just to look at her.  “And I always hoped you’d be late.”  There were laugh lines at the corners of his eyes.  They made him even more handsome, thought Betty, if such a thing was even possible.  Some people would have seen stress lines but his laugh was so open and genuine and joyful she could only see the wrinkles as laugh lines.

 

His kiss still took her breath away.  “Come on, let’s get you home.”

 

~

 

They drove in silence, Betty’s head resting on Bill’s shoulder, Bill’s strong arm wrapped protectively around her.  A peaceful looking scene but inside Betty’s mind was racing.  So much had happened, so many threads spinning through the fair it seemed impossible to grasp them all and weave them into any semblance of order.

 

Murder, robberies, vandalism, all crimes, all unsolved.  Why here?  Why now?  Why all at once?  Were the crimes and criminals related or just coincidence?  Most important who were the criminals?  Not the gossiping grannies.  Not Clarise, Bill, Wes or herself.  That left ninety nine point nine percent of the fair-goers and workers.

 

Let the police handle it she told herself over and over again but she kept going over the events of the day searching for clues; something she missed.

 

Betty’s parents met them at the front door. “Chet, Mary” Bill accepted a handshake from her dad and a kiss on the cheek from her mom.  Her mother held a bottle of wine in one hand and a glass in the other.

 

“I’ve been told to have these ready for you.”  Mary said, speaking pointedly to her daughter.  Betty blushed.

 

“And I’ve cleared off space on the mantel for your new trophy.”  Her father chimed in.

 

“I swear gossip travels faster than the speed of sound or light in Lofton.”  Betty fumed “Violates all known laws of physics and propriety.”

 

“Oh hush!  The only reason people talk about you is because they love you.”  Mary ushered them into the living room.  A fresh veggie platter was laid out with lots of broccoli, cauliflower and celery coupled with a small platter of cooked shrimp. 

 

Betty felt sick.  “Does everyone know I have diabetes?”

 

Mary looked at her.  “No.  But it isn’t anything to be ashamed of and you shouldn’t be so set on keeping it a secret.”

 

“I’m just not ready to face everyone judging me and everything I eat.”

 

“You need not worry about that anymore!” Chet cheerfully piped in, “The pie eating contest pretty much settled your reputation on that front.  Brewster Haddock called and said you set a new fair record.”  

 

Betty studiously sipped her wine.  Bill stood up “And that was before she fought off a mugger and wound up unconscious in the first aid station.”

 

Mary stiffened.  “No one told me – us about that.”

 

Bill rested his hand on Betty’s shoulder.  “Don’t know if he knocked her out or she fainted.  Either way she was clutching her purse and nothing was missing so I’d bet on the former.  She’s just about the only person who was targeted who didn’t get the purse snatched or pocket picked including Clarise.  Add to that her single handed calming of the disgruntled tourists and saving the fair’s cook-off and I would say she’s had a pretty full day.”

 

Chet was leaning forward, hands clasped in front of him.  “What’s this about robberies at the fair?  We’ve never had any trouble.”

 

“If you don’t count a certain rambunctious teen aged boy who may have freed a few prize piglets back in the day.”  Mary added, patting her husband’s knee.

 

Chet leaned back in his chair. “Oh no one wants to hear those old rumors.”

 

Bill smiled “I am fairly certain that case is closed and the statute of limitations has run out and I – we have a very busy day tomorrow.”  He pulled Betty to her feet and kissed her lightly.  “Can I borrow your car?  I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning.”

 

“Can’t wait!”  She said, adding “Thank you.”

 

“I’ll have breakfast ready and waiting.”  Mary promised.  “High protein, high fiber, low fat and low carb.”

 

Bill laughed “Thanks for the warning!” and kissed Betty again.  Betty kissed him back and gave him a neck crushing hug for good measure – and he was gone.

 

She turned to her parents.  “I know you mean well but -”

 

“- But we might have pushed a few boundaries.  I know and we’re both sorry aren’t we Chet.”

 

“Course we are.  Now what’s this about you getting robbed?”

 

“I didn’t get robbed!”  Betty sat down and took a gulp of wine.  “I was heading for the cooking competition when somebody tried to grab my purse.  I held on with one hand and started hitting with the other, screaming at the top of my lungs.  He let go and I fell down.  Next thing I know I was in the nurse’s tent.  Do you know Gladys - Gladys McRorie?  She’s a nurse.  She’s the one who said I should have a glass of wine.”

 

“Then she’s the one who called us.”

 

“She told us you were fine and said we should pick up a bottle of red wine and ignore anything we heard from the gossiping grannies.” 

 

“She’s the best nurse in the world.”

 

“And you’re the best daughter in the world for understatement and exaggeration all in the same story but now it’s time for bed.  Bill will be here by sunrise and I promised him breakfast.”

 

Betty kissed her parents good night, poured herself another half glass of wine and went to her bedroom.  Her computer was on and there were more than a dozen email messages waiting for her.

 

Betty ran a web based business out of her bedroom.  She had several specialty retail websites plus she bought and sold items on auction sites and she had sorely neglected her business for the past week.  Sighing she sat down to try and catch up.

 

Suppliers had sent her a few ads for new products which she filed away for further study.  There were a few spam messages (which she dutifully cursed and reported to her spam filter service).  She was delighted to find two questions about products she had listed and she answered them quickly.  Even better were two orders which she was able to confirm for shipment early next week.  A pair of thank you notes capped off the day.  All in all a very good day’s work considering she hadn’t even been there to do anything. 

BOOK: Liz Marvin - Betty Crawford 03 - Too Long at the Fair
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