by Maddie Day
I set down the paper a few minutes later. That was the most nebulous article I’d ever read.
“Indiana University graduate student Marcus Vandemere is being suspected of the recent homicide in South Lick. Sources say he had expressed animosity toward the victim and was a well-known antagonist in the community.”
And more. It almost sounded like a gossip column, right down to the passive voice, “is being suspected.” By whom? If it wasn’t the police, who cared? And Jamie made a living as a journalist? Hard to believe. It was a wonder he hadn’t been sued for libel. I shot off a text to Buck.
Read the Democrat article about Marcus being suspect. Did that info come from you or O?
Somehow I didn’t think Jamie had gotten it from either of the officers. And Jamie hated Geller, so it wouldn’t have been the doctor’s accusations that fueled the words. I hit Send before picking up my tablet. Birdy moseyed into the living room. He paused near the couch and proceeded to bathe, showing off his best foot-over-shoulder yoga pose.
First I searched the news for a police press conference, whether led by the South Lick department or the Brown County sheriff’s office. Zip. Where had Jamie come up with saying Marcus was a suspect? As far as I knew, that was a more official designation than simply a person of interest.
I leaned back. I’d been successful at restraining Danna from accosting Jamie. He’d paid and left without incident. After we’d closed and cleaned up, Danna had said she was going to call Marcus as soon as she got home. I would call him myself, but I didn’t have his number. Anyway, she could handle it. And if she didn’t show at the tree lighting in an hour, I could text her about what she found out.
I checked the time. Ugh. Barely an hour until Abe and Sean arrived at a quarter past five to walk to the gazebo together. I took another sip of beer and slid open a search window on the tablet. I typed, “Csik Columbus Indiana.” Bingo. A Tibor Csik appeared to live in a retirement community there and in fact led the historical fiction book group. I texted the address to myself so I’d have it tomorrow. I could try to find a phone number and call ahead, but if Shirley was there, I didn’t want to spook her.
Sipping my beer, I laid down the tablet, thinking about what Clive had said when he saw Octavia. Why would he say she was “bad news?” Because she’d questioned him, the husband of a homicide victim? As far as I knew, that was standard practice. Of course it would be a shock to be suspected of murder even while he grieved Toni’s death. But if he was innocent, he didn’t have anything to worry about.
The washing machine in my back hall started thumping its spin cycle. The load of store napkins, aprons, and dish clothes must be off-balance. I was going to have to try to remedy that. But tomorrow, not today. It was probably out of level, and most machines had adjustable feet.
The rhythmic thump knocked at my brain. Was there something I was forgetting about Toni’s death? About Kristina’s? I wished I had time to sketch out a crossword puzzle as I had in the past. Sheesh, I hadn’t even worked on one all week, or cycled, either. Two things I could look forward to doing tomorrow on my day off.
Right now it was time to finish this beer, grab a handful of almonds, and change into my warm boots and red sweater before the menfolk showed up.
Chapter Forty-Two
The snow had stopped falling during the afternoon, and the town had sent out the little sidewalk snow plow to clear the walkways before the tree lighting. Everywhere except the roads and sidewalks was coated with five inches of fluffy white, making it truly look like a Hoosier Christmas. It wasn’t a sight I’d ever seen growing up in Santa Barbara, of course, but children’s holiday books had been full of snowy country lanes and white-bedecked trees. I walked with my arm tucked through Abe’s along the final block to the town square, with Sean on his other side. We weren’t alone. It appeared all of South Lick was converging on the tall conifer the fire department had erected the day before, a tree now perfectly decorated with soft-looking clumps of snow.
White lights festooned the gazebo and Christmas carols played from a speaker somewhere behind the buzz of excited conversation. The decorative red and gold bells hanging from the lampposts were festive, too.
“Robbie, Abe!” Adele called out from a few yards away, waving at us.
We made our way to stand beside her and Samuel. Phil was with them, accompanied by his redheaded girlfriend, hands clasped. I surveyed the crowd, but didn’t spy Danna anywhere. She was probably still annoyed with Josie for trying to hide the article from her. I hadn’t heard back from Buck about where Jamie had gotten his information. The lieutenant would no doubt be around here somewhere.
A girl about Sean’s age came up to him and elbowed him in the arm. “We’ve been waiting for you, dude. Hi, Mr. O’Neill,” she added to Abe. A red and green South American knitted cap with pointed earflaps and knitted tassels adorned her head, with two long blond braids stretching from it nearly to her waist. “We’re all over there. Come on.” She took his elbow.
Sean glanced at his dad.
“Six-thirty at the gazebo,” Abe instructed. “Have fun.”
After they hurried off together, Abe said, “Math team social, from what I can gather. And my boy has the biggest crush on that girl. He could do worse—she’s team captain.” He gazed fondly in the direction the youth had gone.
“And cute, too,” I added.
“They’re good kids, no doubt about it,” Adele said.
Corrine, her red scarf flying, bounded onto a platform that had been set up near the gazebo. Red velvet ropes connected by stanchions delineated a path to two steps. A three-foot-high painted wooden gingerbread man sporting a garish grin—which bordered on a grimace—and a green elf’s hat decorated each post at the start of the ropes. The steps led up to the platform, which had a big cushy armchair positioned in the middle of it lit by floodlights on stands. An aide handed the mayor a microphone.
“Hey, South Lick!” Corrine’s voice blared. “How are all y’all tonight?”
A murmur of “hey” and “fine” arose.
“I can’t HEAR you,” Corrine pressed. “Merry Christmas!”
This time the crowd joined in unison, calling out the greeting. A little boy in a too-big Santa hat chimed in late, shouting “Mewwy Chwithmuth!” Everybody nearby laughed, and his dad hoisted him onto his shoulders.
“Now, for them who don’t know who I am, I’m honored to serve as your mayor, but I know you’re not here to see me. The man in red will be along in half a jiff, so sit tight.”
I spied my Muslim B&B guests standing in silence across the way, not smiling. I felt bad for them. Jewish families lived in town, too. Corrine could have slanted the celebration in a more secular direction. Too late now. It was probably a good thing Danna hadn’t brought Marcus. Beyond where Tanesha and Bashir stood, Buck strolled the periphery of the crowd, eyes alert.
I hadn’t seen Geller or his relatives, or Jamie. Octavia didn’t seem to be around, either. Good. The community didn’t need a homicide investigator to butt her head into a happy occasion like this. The sound of a siren started up in the distance, and a bell clanged. I looked up at Abe in alarm. Another murder?
He smoothed back my hair. “Did you forget about Santa?” he asked softly.
Santa. Coming on an antique fire truck with a full escort of contemporary fire and police vehicles. I’d been at this very celebration a year ago. I shook my head, but a smile eluded me.
“I must be really spooked by what’s been going on,” I said. “I had a vision of a new disaster, a fresh tragedy.” That woo-woo feeling of foreboding rose up again right along with the hairs on my arms.
The sirens grew closer. Children hopped up and down in excitement. Bunches of them now rode on parents’ shoulders. Buck ambled into the center of the circle that surrounded the platform. He put his palms together, then spread them apart in an opening gesture with his hands to Corrine, who still held the mike.
“Santa Claus is almost here,” she announced. “P
lease stand back and keep control of the young ones. Don’t block the aisle. Santa’s a big fella, remember, and he needs room. Everybody who wants one will get a turn to sit on his lap.”
Buck and a deputy walked the inside perimeter of the circle, gently encouraging people to move back. Finally two statie cruisers appeared at a crawl, sirens wailing, escorting the vintage wagon to the square. The vehicle was resplendent with polished chrome and a big brass tank on the back, also brightly polished. Mrs. Claus was in the driver’s seat, smiling and waving. Two green-clad elves perched on the back. Santa sat in the passenger seat, pulling the rope that clanged the bell. He waved his other white-gloved hand. “Merry Christmas!” The crowd roared their approval.
Jamie, with a green scarf wrapped around his neck, appeared out of nowhere and began snapping pictures of Santa with an actual camera, not a phone. To illustrate another freelance article for the Democrat, I expected. He’d better get his facts straight on this one.
Buck lent a hand to the portly Santa, who looked a lot like the Nashville one from the day before. Once off the high seat, Corrine led him along the roped-off aisle and up the steps to his chair, with Mrs. Santa and the elves following. Corrine handed Santa the mike.
“Have you all been good girls and boys?” he asked.
“Yes!” came a chorus of high-pitched voices.
“Who wants to see some lights?” he asked.
“We do!” was the resounding reply.
Jamie was now snapping photo after photo of the crowd. Had he gotten Marcus’s permission to take the picture of him for the article? Somehow I doubted it. There must be parents in the gathering who didn’t want their children’s photos used, either.
The elves positioned themselves at the base of the steps, each holding a huge basket of small candy canes to give out. I didn’t see an official picture taker, unlike in Nashville, but as Geller had mentioned, all the parents would be taking their own photographs, anyway.
Santa held up a hand. “Three. Two. One. Merry Christmas!” He dropped his arm.
The perfectly shaped conical tree, which had to be thirty feet tall, came to life with strings of lights stretching from top to bottom. Multicolored plastic globes dotting the branches were lit from the inside, and boxes wrapped in brightly hued plastic paper nestled under the tree. The lights glowed against the night sky. A chorus of oohs and aahs filled the air. Abe threw his arm around my shoulders and squeezed. I happily leaned into him, all thoughts of murder vanquished for the moment.
Corrine regained the microphone. “All righty, people. Children who want a visit with our special guest, please line up nicely. Parents, kindly don’t leave their sides. The Chamber has generously provided refreshments under the tent, and the beer garden is open to those with appropriate identification. Have yourselves a fun old time, now, and enjoy a safe holiday season.”
“Beer garden sounds fun,” Abe said. “Shall we?” He included the oldsters as well as Phil and his girlfriend.
“We’re headed to a party,” Phil said. “Catch you later. Oh, and I’ll bring in desserts Tuesday morning, Robbie.”
“Thanks, and have fun,” I said.
Adele pulled a Four Roses flask from her coat pocket. “Heck, I didn’t know they was going to have a beer garden. Never did before. I brought this to add to my hot cider.”
Samuel laughed fondly. “I think I’ll stick to plain cider, my love.”
“Beer sounds good to me,” I told Abe. “And whatever the Chamber has for snacks. I just realized how hungry I am.”
After Abe proffered his elbow, I threaded my arm through, and off we went. Before we got there, I saw Danna’s signature rainbow-colored hat. She was talking intently to someone even taller, and it looked a lot like Marcus. I tugged Abe in that direction.
“Where are we . . .” He spied Danna, too. “Oh. But not for too long. I’m ready for that beer.”
“Me too,” I murmured, then, “Hey, Marcus. How did you like the tree lighting? Isn’t it pretty?”
He nodded once without smiling. “It is. Danna insisted I come see it.”
“Hey, man.” Abe extended his hand to Marcus.
Marcus shook it, then stuck his hand back in his jacket pocket. “Listen, Danna, I need to get out of here. This place is toxic for me.”
“Don’t you want to confront him?” Danna said softly.
She must be talking about Jamie. A public confrontation was not going to go well.
“No. I told you I didn’t. I still don’t.” He kept his voice low, too. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you, when you were growing up, about turning the other cheek?”
Huh. It sounded like he was taking his anger management therapy to heart, a wise choice.
“Of course. It doesn’t mean it’s always the right thing to do.” Danna’s words were clipped, fast.
Abe nudged me and looked pointedly in the direction of the beer tent.
“Okay,” I whispered, then spoke in a normal voice. “See you around, Marcus. Tuesday, Dan.”
She gave a little wave without looking at us. We started to make our way through the crowd, which was thick. We’d only walked a couple of yards when I heard Danna’s voice.
“Hey, don’t do that,” she yelled.
My heart sank. I whirled.
Jamie was walking up to Danna and Marcus, camera to his eye, his finger pressing the button repeatedly.
“Stop taking pictures, you liar,” Danna shouted at Jamie. “That story was all fabrication. Nothing was true in it. You didn’t even talk to the police.”
He lowered the camera. “I have my sources.”
“You don’t have my permission to take my picture.” She stepped toward him.
He stepped back, calmly raised his camera again, and snapped more pictures of her and Marcus.
“Stop it. Quit taking pictures.” She grabbed at the device and got a fistful of strap, too.
The strap around Jamie’s neck grew taut as he pulled back. He didn’t let go.
I hurried back, Abe at my side.
“Let’s chill, folks,” Abe said. Nobody listened.
“Danna, leave it. It’s his property.” Marcus grasped her shoulders from behind to pull her back.
“Let go of my camera or I’ll have you arrested,” Jamie snarled.
“You’re not publishing more dirt.” She didn’t release the camera or the strap. With one more tug, and Marcus’s weight behind her, Jamie toppled forward onto Danna. They all went down. Danna cried out. Marcus’s head hit the ground with a thud.
Chapter Forty-Three
Buck and the other deputy materialized. “What’s going on here?” Buck asked.
Jamie rolled free and stood, dusting himself off, and his camera, too. “This girl attacked me.”
Abe extended a hand to Danna, but she knelt, her face drawn in fear.
“He’s unconscious!” She patted her brother’s face. “Marcus, wake up.”
“Ambulance,” Buck said tersely to his deputy.
The deputy turned away and spoke into his radio. Jamie turned away, too, and took two steps toward the gazebo.
“Franklin, you’re not going anywhere,” Buck ordered. “You stay right here.”
Jamie obliged, but folded his arms and tapped his fingers on his bicep with impatience.
Abe, a former Army medic, knelt on the other side of Marcus. He felt for a pulse in Marcus’s neck. “Pulse is good.” He listened to the younger man’s breathing. “Respirations are, too.” Abe pulled a penlight out of somewhere and shone it in one eye, then the other. Marcus’s arm came up to shield his eyes.
“Quit it,” he mumbled.
I let out a long exhale. Marcus was alive, conscious, and coherent. He was going to be fine. Danna sank back onto her rear end, raised her knees, and buried her head in them. A crowd encircled us, watching with the universal curiosity about all things morbid.
“Nothing to see here, people.” Buck made a shooing gesture at them with both hands. “Young fella took a
fall, and he’s going to be fine. Move yourselves along, now.”
Octavia walked up. “What’s this about an altercation?” She kept her hands loose at her sides and her gaze on Jamie.
Marcus struggled to sit up.
Abe laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You rest there, young man. We’re going to get that head checked out by the professionals.”
Danna lifted her head. “First Mr. Franklin published a false and defamatory article about my brother, then he wouldn’t stop taking pictures of us when I asked him to. I told him he didn’t have my permission, but he kept taking them. So I grabbed his camera.”
“She attacked me,” Jamie said, glaring down at Danna.
“Is that so?” Octavia asked.
“Yes.” He lifted his chin. “I was exercising the rights of a free press.”
Corrine strode up as he was speaking. “What the hell you yapping about, Franklin? My girl wouldn’t attack a flea.”
The mayor had some learning to do about her daughter. Or maybe those words were bravado about the person she loved most in the world.
Buck held up both hands. “We are not solving this here. Everybody kindly shut your pieholes. We’ll resolve the dispute and level appropriate charges, if necessary. But not here and not now.”
Two black-clad EMTs hurried up, bag in hand. Abe started to stand to get out of their way. I held out a hand to help him up, leaning back to counterbalance his weight.
One EMT knelt and started checking out Marcus.
The other looked around at us. “Medical story, please?”
I stepped forward. They must specify “medical” so they didn’t elicit finger-pointing and blame slinging. “Abe and I saw the whole thing. They all fell down, but Marcus hit his head.”