Bear Witness to Murder

Home > Fiction > Bear Witness to Murder > Page 20
Bear Witness to Murder Page 20

by Meg Macy

“Wow.”

  I knew Holly had the same problem with Gina about borrowing. Cissy’s ringtone, a lively Italian tarantella, interrupted before we could continue our chat. She dodged behind the counter and snatched up her cell. No doubt Gus Antonini was on the line, since Cissy kept murmuring “mm-hmm” every so often. She ended the call within a few minutes.

  “Sorry about that. Gus is thrilled about the Maître D’Bear going up in front of Flambé. He wanted to make sure I’d be there Wednesday night. Now, what were we talking about?”

  “Gina Lawson.”

  “Oh. Isn’t it a shame what happened to her?” Cissy flipped aside her hair with a dramatic twist of her head. “I was surprised Holly hired her—for marketing at first, and then as a shop assistant. You must have heard Gina worked for Mayor Bloom on his re-election campaign. While she worked for me, in fact. Always making excuses about being on the phone or checking her laptop, another no-no.”

  “I don’t know much, but she filed a lawsuit against him,” I said.

  “Gina was mad he wouldn’t pay her. He insulted her in front of a lot of people, too,” Cissy added. “She’d posted social media stuff, on Twitter and Facebook, setting up events. That all takes time, which is why I wasn’t happy.”

  “Some people think the mayor killed her, to avoid scandal.”

  “Oh, brother. Cal Bloom’s as old-fashioned as the sauerkraut and horseradish sauce they’ll serve at the Oktobear Fest,” she said with a laugh. Cissy tapped her long fingernails on a display case’s glass surface. “That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about, though. Don’t take this the wrong way, Sasha. Okay?”

  The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. Her words sounded more ominous than what Lisa had shared yesterday morning. “What do you mean?”

  “I wanted to warn your sister, actually, but I haven’t seen her much.”

  Startled for the second time, I knocked over a jeweled trinket box shaped like a cluster of blackberries. Cissy set it aside on the counter. “Warn Maddie? What about?” I asked.

  “About the guy she’s dating.” She glanced toward the front window of the store. A few people had stopped on the street, perusing the Starry Night Bear, so she waited until they walked away. “Kip O’Sullivan used to live and work up in Traverse City, you know.”

  “Okay.” My sister hadn’t told me much about him, but I never asked about his past. “So why is that important?”

  “Gus saw him around the city when he worked at the Grand Traverse Resort and Spa.” She sounded proud of her fiancé, adding, “He moved on to work at the Capitol City Grille in Lansing. I’m only relating what Gus told me. About Kip.”

  I waited, impatient, and had to prompt her. “So what did he say?”

  “That Kip’s had financial troubles. He never finished some major commissions. Word got around, and his reputation tanked. Debbie took beekeeping classes at North Central, so she heard the same stories,” Cissy added. “Kip filed for bankruptcy, too.”

  “Wow. Then he must have known Holly Parker,” I said. “I think she lived there.”

  “She owned some shop up there, selling stationery. My sister witnessed a big fight, too, between Kip and Holly at one of his gallery shows.”

  “Really. What that was about?”

  “No idea. But Kip did well at first. Sold a lot of artwork, taught classes, and he even bought a big house with a studio out back.” Cissy plucked an imaginary thread from her jeans. “You ought to warn Maddie that Kip could be trouble.”

  I knew that would be tricky. When my sister took on a “cause”—either for charity or to help a friend—she remained stubborn in her loyalty. Maddie wouldn’t give up unless she chose to on her own. What a shame about Kip’s past. I really liked him, despite the troubles he and Maddie were having. Then again, maybe most of this was rumor and not fact. I’d rather ask my sister before believing any story. I thanked Cissy, nevertheless.

  “You’re welcome. Gus and I were surprised to hear that Kip walked away from his house and studio,” Cissy went on. “Packed up and let the property go into foreclosure. He didn’t pay back the commissions he’d taken on, either. I’m so afraid Maddie will be hurt. She’s got so much talent, and deserves better. I’ve always liked her.”

  I blinked in surprise. Her phone trilled again, so I turned toward the door. Since when had Cissy paid that much attention to either of us? Debbie was closer in age to Maddie. I gave up trying to reason it out and left the shop.

  Relieved to be outside, Rosie shook her curly fur. I breathed in the fresh air, just as glad. After a few laps around the Village Green, stopping by each of her favorite trees, Rosie led the way toward home. A car’s blaring horn startled me. I’d been thinking about Kip and his troubles, and nearly tripped over the cement curb in a scramble to get out of the way. Holly’s blue MINI Cooper sped down Kermit Street. I picked up my trembling dog and hugged her.

  “What a witch,” I muttered aloud. “Come on, baby.”

  The wind blew dry leaves past us, I shivered in the chill air, wondering if Holly would have dared run me down. I couldn’t be sure given what Lisa Blake had said. Rosie wriggled free of my arms and tugged at her leash, eager for supper. I felt better once we rounded the corner and passed the toy and book store. Too bad I couldn’t snoop around inside, since Holly had gone on an errand. I’d have loved to dig up more secret trophies.

  I surveyed the Dumpster behind the shop. Had Holly painted the graffiti herself? Maybe I’d find a can of spray paint. I walked over to the hulking metal bin, lifted the rubberized lid with a grunt—ugh. I jumped back, holding my nose, and winced from the strong stench.

  After I caught a few deep breaths, I stood on tiptoes to peer over the side. Flattened cardboard boxes, some with crushed sides. Loose papers. Metal pipes. Junk food wrappers, milk cartons, and plenty of other trash. No paint cans, spray or gallon-sized.

  What a shame.

  Chapter 20

  Wednesday after work, I changed into a deep green dress and my knee-high leather boots. Jewelry? Hmm—layered chains would have to do, plus big hoop earrings. I grabbed a pair of sunglasses and a leather jacket, then headed to the village.

  Officer Hillerman braced himself against a car parked on Kermit Street, writing out a ticket. Another good reason to walk. Jay had texted earlier about meeting on River Street, past the bank and the market. I enjoyed the sunshine, the cool breeze, and the drifts of colorful leaves underfoot. Autumn was fading fast. November’s gray skies and bone-chilling wind would soon arrive. Halloween in Michigan was always a toss-up in terms of weather, from balmy warm to rain-soaked, or even a blanket of light snow.

  “Sasha! Over here,” Jay called.

  I rushed to meet him. “Nice tie, Kirby. A carrot-chomping Bugs Bunny. You’ve also got a kinship with bears, the way they look so real.”

  He laughed. “So I guess you like this carving?”

  Mounted on wheels, the sign had huge carved wooden letters spelling out OKTOBEAR above the much larger FEST on the bottom. Two realistic bears on either side were poised in the act of climbing onto the top. One had a mischievous grin, reminding me of something.

  “Hmm. I wonder where Yogi’s hat is,” I said. Jay looked sheepish.

  “You nailed it. Does that bear really resemble the cartoon?”

  “There’s a slight similarity in the expression. I admit I loved watching old cartoons on VCR tapes and DVDs when I was a kid. But how often did you go camping at Jellystone Park in Frankenmuth? Or maybe the one near Grayling.”

  “South Haven, actually.” He grinned and drew me into a hug. “So we both love Looney Tunes, good. I’m glad you’re early. Remember how Holly tore off the accordion strap on Maddie’s Polka Bear?”

  “We didn’t actually see her do it, though.”

  “She hasn’t been the only one fooling around with the sculptures. Lauren heard someone was hanging around Jack Pine Bear. When a police car drove by, they took off on a bicycle. I didn’t think vandalism was possible in a
small town. Everyone knows everyone else.”

  “And people are always looking for fresh gossip—”

  I stopped, since Amy Evans, Mayor Bloom, and the rest of the Oktobear Fest committee walked toward us. Barbara Davison, my mother’s best friend, and Mary Monroe, who owned the flower shop, crowed in delight at the sign; Tom Richardson, plus Mary Walsh of Ham Heaven, all chimed in with praise as well. Amy, wearing her trademark navy suit and flats, this time with a navy and gold scarf, spread her arms wide.

  “That sign is so worth the money we spent.”

  “Absolutely,” the mayor boomed. He shook Jay’s hand with enthusiasm, and grabbed mine next. My teeth rattled. “Congratulations! We hope to see many other successful events for our future Oktobear Fests. Don’t forget to vote next month.”

  Dave Fox suddenly ambled over to the group. “Get around the sign, all of you. This is going on the front page of the Herald, all about the Oktobear Fest.”

  “Wait, wait.” Cal Bloom adjusted his suit jacket and tie. Some of the women fluffed their hair before Dave snapped several photos, checked his viewfinder, and then waved.

  “Thanks, all.”

  “Time to head over to the vet clinic,” Amy said, and checked her wristwatch. “First up is Pet the Bear, and then the Bling Bear over on Kermit Street near the ice cream shop.”

  “What about Kip’s bear?” I hissed at Jay before we followed everyone. “Isn’t it on the schedule for tonight? In between the vet and the Silver Scoop?”

  “Not finished.” He pressed me closer and whispered that in my ear. “Pet the Bear’s artist was supposed to be up last Saturday, remember. Amy told Kip he’d better get the Hippie Bear here by tomorrow night. Don’t say a word to your sister. She’s—”

  “I know. Ready to blow a gasket.”

  “Something wrong, you two?”

  We whirled around to see Cal Bloom, his tanned face a mass of wrinkles when he smiled. Almost a constant occurrence when he met people, although he acted somber at the funeral home he owned. David Richardson, Tom’s son, managed it for him along with his wife Leah; visitors and newcomers to Silver Hollow had trouble understanding the tangled connections between families and friends in the various businesses.

  “Hope you’re not gossiping about the election,” the mayor joked.

  I didn’t laugh. “We’re heading off to see the next bear.”

  “Like I said, Kirby, you did a great job on that sign.”

  “Thanks.”

  Cal Bloom glanced at me and then clapped Jay on the shoulder. “Alex told me he’s hiring you to redo the Silver Bear Shop’s sign next. Nice to have an in with the family.”

  I winced at that obvious hint. “My sister and I hired Jay. Not my dad.”

  “Right.”

  His condescending manner rankled me worse. “By the way, what’s going to happen to that lawsuit regarding your marketing campaign?”

  “Listen, Sasha,” he said. “I’ll set the record straight. I had nothing to do with that young woman’s murder. We each had our own version of the story, and I was willing to abide by what the judge ruled in court. I didn’t expect Gina to take it that far. She should have come to me in private. We could have settled it on our own, without lawyers.”

  “Do you think it’s going to hurt your re-election?” Jay asked.

  “I hope not. But people are wrong if they think I’d hurt any woman. Or man, for that matter.” Bloom let out a long sigh. “It is what it is, or what it will be. My hands are tied, but I’m not giving up until the last vote’s counted.”

  “Where were you the night she was killed?” I asked, and watched for any change in his facial expression. The mayor didn’t bat an eye.

  “Home with the wife, where I belong. Linda told the police that.” He cocked his head to one side. “Your mother promised that you’ll help clear my name. Is that true?”

  “Are you a suspect?”

  “That detective has me on his list, along with Matt Cooper, and heaven knows who else. Neither of us would have any reason to murder anyone. We grew up here, people know us. It’s downright ridiculous, if you ask me. But the police don’t seem to care.”

  Bloom lumbered off down the street. I glanced at Jay. “I wonder if he’s going to lose this time. Who’s running against him? Some farmer?”

  “Tony Crocker. He bought out my parents’ farmland. Quiet, doesn’t say much. And he’s too cheap to put up lawn signs or send flyers around.”

  “So maybe if I do clear Mayor Bloom, he’ll win again,” I said.

  Jay shrugged. “Good chance of it. Let’s go.”

  While we walked, I pondered what Mayor Bloom had said. “Hey. Does everyone around here think my dad’s in charge at the factory?”

  “Don’t let his remarks bother you, Sasha,” Jay said. “The mayor’s old-school. Look how Gil Thompson still lords it over Fresh Grounds. Even though Garrett and Mary Kate do all the work, and own half of the business.”

  “It’s true the mayor doesn’t give women much credit. A lot of women own businesses in Silver Hollow.” I started counting. “Cissy Davison. Mary Monroe. Abby Pozniak. Vivian Grant. Lisa Blake. Holly Parker—and Chief Ross’s café is managed by his wife. Oh, and the hair salon owner, Karen Olsen.”

  “His daughter owns the Silver Scoop, remember.”

  “Kristen co-owns it with Isabel French. That leaves Quinn’s Pub, Fresh Grounds, Ham Heaven, and the Queen Bess Tea Room run by couples. Only Blake’s Pharmacy, Flambé, and Jackson’s Market are owned by men alone.”

  Jay smiled. “Don’t forget the hotel, the bank, and the Quick Mix Factory.”

  “But even so, Cal Bloom needs to update his thinking. Maybe that’s another reason why he’s not a shoo-in for re-election this year. Younger voters and women don’t like him.”

  “You could be right. Is it true Holly Parker is running for a council seat? Imagine her speaking for the rest of us ‘slack-tivist’ people.”

  “Ugh. Besides, we’re not slacktivists. We’re involved in stuff.”

  “I’d love to see Holly battle it out with Cal Bloom over issues,” Jay said, “but I doubt I’ll have time to attend any meetings. If they’re open to the public. Maybe it’s just a rumor. Who knows if she missed the filing deadline to be a candidate.”

  The thought of Holly Parker taking part in decisions that affected Silver Hollow and its businesses disturbed me. Especially after Lisa’s warning. What kind of mischief could she cook up against the Silver Bear Shop as a council member?

  The weather soon reflected my mood’s downturn. A bank of dark clouds piled up in the northwest, so Jay and I rushed to join the crowd around the sculpture near Mark Fox’s vet clinic. We missed most of Amy Evans’s introduction. The images painted on the shiny fiberglass bear included cats, dogs, birds, and reptiles, along with ADOPT, DON’T SHOP! in bold letters.

  “Bring your pets to us, no matter how you get them,” Mark Fox added. Everyone laughed at his shameless plug. “What? We’re the best vet clinic in the area.”

  “You’re the only vet in the area,” Abby Pozniak said, to more laughter. I hadn’t noticed until now that Maddie stood beside Abby and her sister. “We don’t have a choice unless we want to drive all the way to Ann Arbor.”

  “That’s right—we save you money and gas mileage.” Mark grinned.

  Amy Evans waved a hand. “On to the next bear. We have a tight schedule tonight!”

  She headed across Roosevelt Street. Most of the crowd followed her over the Village Green to the shops farther away on Kermit. Jay and I linked arms with Maddie, whose face flushed deep red. We all slowed down, keeping our voices low.

  “I’m so angry at Kip, I could choke. He should have brought the Hippie Bear last night, and then put the sealer coat on after tonight’s unveiling,” she said. “It would have been fine. But no, he insisted on touching up a few spots first. Now Amy’s threatening to cut his bear from the event. I don’t blame her one bit.”

  “Not good.” Jay l
ooked uncomfortable. “Pet the Bear was done, but the artist couldn’t get it here on time due to a hauling problem.”

  “I know! Everyone knew the rules. And Kip promised me Sunday he’d finish.”

  “It’s not your fault, Mads,” I said.

  She turned to me, close to tears. “I shouldn’t have believed him. And now today, no bear. I’m so done with his excuses. And Kip. I told him it’s over. I mean it, too.”

  That surprised me. Now was not a good time to explain what Cissy had informed me, though, given her bad mood. It would have to wait, along with everything I’d learned from Lisa. What a crazy day. At least it was nearly over.

  Jay squeezed her arm. “Give him a second chance, Maddie. I’ll make sure we deliver it tomorrow at the latest. Okay?”

  “It’s got to be tomorrow. Friday won’t work,” she said, “because all the food vendors will be arriving to set up. It’s bound to be a madhouse.”

  “Got it. I’ll call Kip,” he said. “We’ll make it happen.”

  I caught sight of my cousin Matt with Elle and the girls. Cara and Celia both wore shirts with unicorns in a rainbow of colorful rhinestones. They had stopped a block away from the ice cream shop. Leaving Jay and Maddie behind, I hurried to catch up to them. Celia squealed in excitement and jumped into my arms.

  “Oof.”

  “We’re gonna see a bear tonight,” she yelled in my ear.

  “Settle down, baby, or we’ll have to go home,” Elle said in warning. “Tell Sasha you’re sorry for screaming, too.”

  “It’s okay.” I set her down and patted her pink bear. “The Bling Bear?”

  “Yeah! It’s pink, too.”

  “Does she know what the word means?” Jay had joined us and smiled at Elle and Matt.

  “Bling, bling, bling,” both girls chanted.

  “Oh, you bet they do,” I said. “They’re really into bedazzling all kinds of stuff. Glitter, sequins, sparkles, you name it. It’s a huge market trend. So how are you doing, Matt? Recovered from the weekend?”

  My cousin shifted on his feet, clearly embarrassed. “Sort of, yeah. People suspect me of painting that graffiti on Holly’s shop. Doesn’t seem to matter that I didn’t. And The Cat’s Cradle will close if we don’t get any customers. Bankruptcy might be the only solution.”

 

‹ Prev