But Wilma was a sweetheart, too, in spite of her reputation, and Jenny kind of felt bad for her. “Well, you are a volunteer, so it’s not like we’re going to dock your pay.”
“We haven’t been busy, anyway,” Sissy piped up. “It’s fine.”
Wilma smiled and wrapped her hand around Jenny’s wrist. “I hope I didn’t hurt you.”
Jenny shook her head. “I’m just peachy. Now that you’re here, though, I’m going to go find some more cookies.”
“Ooh, bring me some,” Sissy called.
“I thought you were on a diet?” Jenny asked.
Sissy raised an eyebrow. “No...that was you.”
“Oh.”
“Did you see the reindeer yet?” Wilma asked. “I passed them on my way over. They are ugly, ugly creatures.”
This was the first Jenny had heard about it. “What reindeer?”
“For the petting zoo,” Sissy said. “I told you about it a week ago. Remember? To raise money for the After School Club?”
A vague memory of Sissy saying something about that floated through Jenny’s mind, but she shrugged it off. “I’m going to go see.”
“Bring us cookies!” Sissy called after her, just as Wilma spotted the bottle of rum on the shelf under the table and headed that way.
Jenny stepped out onto the path that ran past their booth and started walking toward the center of the fairgrounds. There was a nice crowd tonight, and the lights and music made everything feel festive.
The fairground was a wide open field, ringed with a wagon wheel pattern of pathways along the perimeter and a huge log clubhouse on the far side for indoor events. There was a small park set up beside that, complete with swings and slides and monkey bars for the kids. A little father away, there was a softball field. When something was happening in Cooper, it usually happened here. Livestock shows, horse races, carnivals, weddings...anything.
Tonight, Jenny couldn’t see the clubhouse because the town had set up a carnival for the kids, dead center in the field. A small Ferris wheel was the main attraction, but there were other rides and games, too. Best of all, there was a Christmas train - driven by Santa himself - travelling a circle around the whole carnival.
Everyone seemed to be having a great time, and Jenny thought that she might be able to relax and have some fun after all, now that Wilma was here to help Sissy.
Regardless of her grumbling, she would have helped if she was needed. Sissy wasn’t just her sister - she was Jenny’s best friend and business partner. Those kinds of ties ran deep. Sissy knew it, and was fully prepared to take advantage. Jenny smiled to herself.
The booths were pretty this year, too. Each structure was basically the same - a back and roof, with two posts supporting the front. That left three sides open to the weather. Sissy had gone for the rustic look, with real tree limbs covering the posts, miles of lighted pine garland hanging down, and wood-burned signage. She’d even found some thick red and black checkered flannel to use for tablecloths. It seemed like a lot of work, but Sissy loved doing it and spent half the year planning her theme.
Other folks had gotten just as creative with theirs, too. She passed the apple cider booth, with red velvet curtains and candy cane striped posts everywhere. On the table closest to Jenny, she spotted pans of caramel apples, sitting pretty in red and green muffin cup liners to keep them from dripping everywhere. The Buttered Buns Bakery had a Christmas cupcake booth decked out like a gingerbread house, with glassy-looking gumdrops and white paint for icing. On the corner of one table, near some donuts with sprinkles, sat a heavy-looking stack of fruitcakes, free for the taking. It didn’t look like there were many takers.
Jenny figured Dorothy, the Buttered Buns owner, would win the booth-decorating contest this year. The gingerbread theme really was cute.
Next was an empty space, but people had put it to good use - she paused to watch a few old couples in beautiful western outfits, square dancing inside a circle of clapping onlookers. Someone had set up a small stereo system, and they were playing bluegrass Christmas music. Jenny didn’t know anything about square dancing, but the dancers looked so happy that she couldn’t help but clap along with their footsteps, too.
One man, with a giant silver moustache and a tall cowboy hat, looked up from his steps and winked at her as he swung by with his partner. Jenny waved and laughed, then turned and went on her way.
She made her way past the ornament painting booth and a wreath making booth before she stopped at Cora Castle’s Christmas Cookie Café. Cora was in the back of the booth, dressed in jeans and a red sweater with a frilly white apron over it. She was arranging brightly frosted cookies from a plastic tub on a platter that looked like it was made of stained glass. Off to the right was the “café” portion of her booth - Styrofoam cups stacked beside big carafes of tea, coffee, and cocoa.
Beside the cups was an old-timey candy jar, filled to the brim with random bills and change. Cora called it her Christmas fund.
Cora had been the crossing guard on Elm Street for fifty years before she retired. Four generations of Cooper Elementary students saw her every morning and every evening, throughout their entire childhood. She always had a smile for the orderly kids and a wagging finger for the hooligans. Every year, this booth was the most popular.
Tonight was no exception. The place was packed.
Jenny squeezed inside, grabbed a snowflake shaped Walnut Lace Cookie and headed for the cocoa. “It’s me again,” she called over the ruckus, and waved when Cora glanced up and started her way.
Jenny felt a tug on her sweater and turned around. A little boy, no more than six, stared up at her. His hair was streaked gray with what looked like powdered sugar and his teeth were stained blue when he spoke. “Did you just steal that cookie?” he asked, half whispering and looking around like they might get caught.
By now, Cora was standing close enough to hear.
“No, I didn’t.” Jenny whispered back. “Want to know a secret?”
Wide-eyed, the boy nodded.
Jenny leaned in close. “You know Mrs. Castle?” she asked.
He nodded again.
“She’s my mommy.”
The little boy gasped, his eyes growing huge in his face. “Really? That is so cool!”
“It is,” Jenny said, fighting back laughter. She glanced up at Cora, who was practically bursting with mirth. “I get cookies for breakfast, and lunch, and dinner. I even get a giant cookie - the size of that whole Ferris wheel - for my birthday.”
“Oh, wow,” the boy whispered. He looked up at Cora and grinned. “I wish you were my mommy, too!”
“Shh!” Jenny said. “Remember, it’s a secret.”
He nodded as seriously as he could, then ran off, probably to tell all his friends.
Jenny stood up and gave Cora a hug. Of course, Cora wasn’t her mother. Also, Jenny had slipped a twenty dollar bill into the bottom of the candy jar earlier to pay for all the cookies she knew she would eat. It was their ritual every year.
Cora was laughing so hard her shoulders shook. “You’re going to have people asking me to bake them Ferris wheel sized cookies, young lady!”
“Well, then, gigantic cookies can be your new business model. You’ll be rich.” Jenny grinned.
Cora groaned and reached for a cup, then filled it with rich hot cocoa and handed it to Jenny. In a way, she was everybody’s mom around here. “Scoot out of here,” she shooed with her hands, “Or I’ll put you to work.”
Jenny laughed and scooted, grabbing a few more cookies for Sissy and Wilma on her way out.
Back out on the path, she realized that her hands were too full of cookies and cocoa, so it would be crazy to try to hold it all and go to the petting zoo. That would have to wait.
Besides, hadn’t Wilma pointed the other direction when she mentioned it? Jenny thought so, which meant they’d set it up closer to the parking lot. She could swing by the eggnog booth, drop off the goodies, and then go to the zoo. Perfect.
>
Chapter Three
It was almost eight o’clock, and the crowd was really picking up. Jenny made it back to their booth, but had to weave between two lines to get to the back, where Sissy and Wilma were working their behinds off, serving everyone. Chuck was pacing back and forth, supervising with an apprehensive eye. He was like that at home, too. Sissy was spoiling him.
Jenny stuck a finger through the cage bars and gave him a scratch on his neck. He leaned into it, and she thought that if he was a cat he’d purr. Instead he clucked.
Sissy walked over, holding out her sticky hands, and put her face to Jenny’s ear. “I know I promised that you wouldn’t have to do this...but can you man the front table for a few minutes?” she asked. “We’re swamped.”
Jenny pretended to pout, but she nodded. Sissy grinned at her and tossed her long, thick braid, then went back to beating her egg whites.
The front table had customers three across. Jenny greeted the people she knew and ladled out cups of thick, rich egg nog for every outstretched hand. She and Sissy had decided years ago that they wouldn’t charge a dime for their eggnog - they always had a surplus of eggs at the end of the year and besides - it was Christmas!
There were lots of new faces here tonight, which was a nice surprise. Cooper was a small town, but it had a lot to offer, and Jenny had always wished it got the credit it deserved.
One new face in particular was very handsome. Jenny noticed him because he kept waving money after he took his cup. He was about her own age - meaning early fifties - and he had kind blue eyes and a close-cropped, silvering beard that looked nice against his deeply tanned face. That, along with the heavy boots and duster he wore, told Jenny that he was an outdoorsman.
Not that she was on the market. She wasn’t. Ever since she and Sissy had inherited their parents’ chicken farm, she spent all her time hosing out barns, feeding the hens, and doing general farm things. Thank goodness she loved it so much.
The man caught her eye and held out some bills. She waved away his money and tried to explain to him about the eggs, but other people kept interrupting her. Finally, after three tries she just said, “Free!” and gave him a smile. He nodded understanding, smiled back, and stepped away from the table. She lost sight of him in the sea of faces, so she got back to work.
Ten long minutes later, things had calmed down. Jenny turned to Sissy. “You owe me one,” she said, fanning her face with a napkin from the table.
“I know,” Sissy said, just as Wilma growled.
Jenny and Sissy both turned to look at her and then at each other. And then at her again.
“Did you just...” Sissy started to ask, but then both sisters noticed that she was staring at something in the distance, and she looked ready to throw a punch.
“Wilma?” Jenny asked gently, coming around the table. She was afraid to touch the woman. She’d never heard a human being growl like that before...“Are you all right?”
“No,” Wilma said through gritted teeth. She was still staring at something outside of the booth. “I’m not.”
“Uh-oh,” Sissy said softly.
Jenny turned and followed Wilma’s line of sight. She was staring away from the carnival, toward the gravel parking lot over near the fairground entrance. “What? I don’t...”
She was going to say that she didn’t see anything, but then she figured it out. “Uh-oh,” she echoed.
Margaret van Winklet was walking toward them, chin high and looking for all the world like she was invited to visit the queen of England. She wore an ankle-length fur coat and sturdy, modest black heels that probably cost as much as Jenny’s pickup truck. Her private nurse, a twenty-something young woman named Josie, trailed along behind and carrying three or four heavy-looking, very fancy leather bags.
Out in front, tugging at a rhinestone leash that sparkled in the lights, was Margaret’s most prized possession - her pet fox, Napoleon.
“What in the great blue sky is she doing here?” Wilma said. Her voice was ragged and deep. Jenny wasn’t sure if she was talking to herself.
“Oh,” Sissy said, “I overheard a lady at the grocery store saying that Ms. Van Winklet was bringing Napoleon for the petting zoo...”
Her voice trailed off as Wilma swiveled around to glare at her. “You didn’t tell me?”
“I forgot” Sissy whispered. There was a spark of real alarm in her eyes and Jenny thought her lip trembled.
Anger flared in Jenny. She stepped between Wilma and Sissy and looked dead in Wilma’s brown eyes. “Hey! You don’t speak to her that way, Wilma. Maybe you should go home.”
Some emotion flickered in Wilma’s gaze at the word home, but Jenny held the stare. She might give Sissy a hard time, but nobody else was going to, not if she was in the vicinity.
Of course, Wilma was twenty years younger and thirty pounds lighter. That could be a problem.
“Young lady! Wilma Marionetta van Winklet!”
By now, Margaret had reached the front of the eggnog booth. Jenny, Sissy, and Wilma all turned to face her.
“Mother.” Wilma’s voice was raspy. Jenny noticed that her hands were balled into hard, white fists.
The two women looked each other up and down. Somewhere behind Jenny, the familiar strains of Winter Wonderland floated through the air.
Margaret was standing in the path now, facing the open booth. Her arms were crossed over her admittedly generous bosom, and her usual frown had deepened considerably. “What in the name of all that is holy are you wearing? You look like a tramp.”
Well, it wasn’t that bad, Jenny thought, glancing at Wilma’s stocking-covered legs. Kind of short. The shoes made it look tackier than it was...Jenny looked from mother to daughter. The resemblance was easy to spot - thin lips, high cheekbones...there was even a hint of Wilma’s red in Margaret’s gray bun. Also, both of them looked ready to wring the other one’s neck.
“I’m pretty sure that’s none of your cotton-pickin’ business, Mother.” Wilma’s eyes blazed.
Margaret raised a perfectly thin, manicured eyebrow. “I’m trying to keep our reputation afloat, child, and you can destroy all my effort with one ludicrous outfit.”
The fox had his nose in the air, snuffling. When he ventured farther into the booth, he spotted Chuck the Cluck and froze. His eyes narrowed. Jenny thought it was a good thing that he was on a leash, because Chuck had noticed what was going on, too. He was pecking nervously at the hay in the bottom of his cage and purdling - Sissy’s word for that noise - softly.
“Ms. Van Winklet...” Jenny started, taking a step to her left so that she was between Napoleon and Chuck. Just as she did, the fox lunged for the cage, hit the end of his leash, and let out a sharp little yip. In the process, he managed to yank Margaret forward so fast that Jenny thought she might fall.
As Jenny watched, open-mouthed, Margaret dropped immediately to one knee and gathered him up. That wasn’t an easy task in such a bulky coat, because the fox was just about the size of a cocker spaniel. “There, there, sweet-pie, I’m sorry.”
The fox, deep red with a white throat, snuggled into the fur coat and hid his face. Margaret stood up - with Josie’s help - and took a step toward Wilma. “How dare you upset him, you little brat!” she whispered harshly.
Wilma didn’t answer, but her cheeks flushed red as stop signs. “I didn’t upset him, Mother. I hate that stupid animal, but I’m not going to kill it. You were choking him.”
Jenny glanced at Wilma. Who had said anything about killing it?
“I would not do that. I love him.” She turned on Jenny, her eyes blazing. “Did you hurt him? Kick him? You did, didn’t you?”
Jenny sighed. She’d heard that Margaret treated the fox like a child, but she’d never actually seen it happen before. It was kind of amazing. “No, ma’am, but I need to ask you to leave now. We’re serving food in here, and he’s unsanitary.”
Margaret looked her up and down, then huffed. “He’s cleaner that you are, I promise you that.�
�
Who did this old bat think she was? Jenny started to ask her exactly that, but just then a family with a couple of younger children stepped into the booth. She served them with a smile, but kept an ear on the drama out front. Sissy had gone to the back to soothe poor Chuck. She still looked a little upset. Jenny made a mental note to steer both of the well clear of the van Winklet family next Christmas.
“You need to go home and change your clothes right now, young lady!” Margaret snapped.
Jenny almost laughed at that. Wilma was a in her thirties and lived in her own home.
“Mother, please shut up,” Wilma snapped. “You’re embarrassing yourself - I don’t have to lift a finger. Go do whatever you came here to do and stay away from me.” Wilma leaned forward and whispered so that Jenny almost missed it. “Or I promise - you’ll be sorry.”
Pure hatred dripped from her voice. Jenny shivered.
Chapter Four
Josie the nurse had backed away. She was young, maybe twenty-two or three, just a skinny little thing. Looking pale as fog, she watched the argument between mother and daughter. She wore a large leather satchel over each shoulder, plus a smaller one in each hand. Jenny waited until the young family left and walked over to her.
Sissy was right behind her. “Here,” she said, handing Josie a cup of eggnog before going back to Chuck.
Josie looked at Jenny, shifted her bags to one hand and took it, but she didn’t smile. Her blonde hair was swept up in a frazzled bun, but it was starting to fall down a little. Or maybe she did it that way on purpose - Jenny couldn’t tell. Either way, the look on her face said that she’d rather be anywhere than here with these two.
“You must be exhausted by the time you get home, carrying around all that stuff,” Jenny said, motioning toward the bags.
Josie sighed. “I don’t mind that part. I mind her, though. She’s such an angry old woman.”
Fireside Homicide Cozy Mystery Bundle Page 13