“I don’t know if it was planned or not. The point is, no matter how much we plan and how many people we hire—”
“Stuff happens.”
Liv acknowledged Chaz as formally as she could, and she had to admit, gratefully. “Well, yes, Mr. Bristow. Stuff does happen.” She addressed the others. “Last night’s festivities drew over a thousand people. Over fifty people made use of the first aid stations, mainly minor injuries and upset stomachs. The ambulance service reported two sprained ankles, a broken arm, several dizzy spells, and two possible heart attacks that necessitated the use of the ambulance. I’m happy to say, all with a positive outcome.”
“What did she say?” asked a voice from the back.
“Except for the murder, there were no casualties.”
“Shoulda never rented the place to Clarence Thornsby.”
“That wife of his would be enough to drive any man to murder.”
There was a smattering of laughter.
The mayor banged his gavel. “Now, folks, this is not time for talk like that.”
“Well, that part’s all water under the bridge,” Roscoe Jackson, the third trustee said. “What we should be talking about is what we’re going to do about the future. That Trim a Tree place is a nuisance. They mighta just brought their problems with them.”
“Yeah. And where is Clarence Thornsby? He sure seems to be taking a jaded lack of interest in what’s going on at his store.”
“And where is his wife?” Quincy Hinks asked. “If you ask me, there’s something havey-cavey going on over there.”
“Quincy is absolutely right.” Miriam Krause stood and gestured to the mayor. “We do need to deal with this. Putting paper over the windows is okay for a day or two. But we need a viable business in there and quick.”
Roscoe Jackson rose from his chair to his full five foot six. “Miriam’s right. An empty store front at the height of the shopping year makes all of us look bad. And I have to admit that so far, business at my general store has been better than it has been in years.” He nodded to Liv.
“Thank you, Roscoe,” the mayor said. “When Bill Gunnison gets here, you can ask him about how soon they can get back in.”
“Not them,” Roscoe said. “Something more in keeping with our town image.”
“You tell them, Roscoe,” someone shouted from the back of the room, setting off an avalanche of opinions.
“We can’t let them open back up with all that folderol in the window.”
“Well, we can’t let the business lie idle. A Christmas store at the peak of the Christmas season?”
Roscoe jumped to his feet. “I think Jeremiah should evict them and let someone put a new business in there pronto.”
“And just who do you suggest? Yourself?” Jeremiah shot back.
“Not me, I’m doing just fine at my present location. But hell, if you hadn’t raised the rents, we might still have the Newlands’ gift store in there instead of some hoochie-koo business.”
The room erupted in opinions.
“Order,” Mayor Worley cried over the din. “Jeremiah, do you want to address that question?”
Jeremiah Atkins stood and leaned over Rufus to glower at Roscoe. “Thank you, Mayor Worley. That particular property had sat vacant since the Newlands closed down last summer. The current enterprise would not have been my first choice as a tenant. I would gladly welcome a new business on the site. However, I don’t see how I can legally evict the present tenants.”
“Easy,” someone called out. “A murder was committed there. It’s bad for the community.”
“And they didn’t abide by the town’s ordinances.”
“I really don’t have control over that as a property owner,” Jeremiah said. “Any business wishing to do business in Celebration Bay signs a separate document agreeing to certain terms. It is a town ordinance.”
“We’ve never had more than one Santa.”
“And they didn’t abide by it.”
“No, they didn’t.”
“There’s your out.”
Ted leaned over to whisper in Liv’s ear. “Except Jeremiah doesn’t want to lose out on the income.”
“I don’t think it would really hold up in a court of law,” Jeremiah said unhappily. “It’s more of a good-faith document.”
“But they signed it, didn’t they?”
All eyes turned from Jeremiah to Janine Tudor, who had been uncharacteristically quiet during the last few questions.
“Well, I gave it to them,” she said haughtily.
“Oh boy,” Liv said under her breath.
“Yeah, but did they sign it?”
“Really,” she said. “It’s my busy season. How can I be expected to remember every little piece of paper that comes across my desk?”
“Well, did they or didn’t they?” Roscoe craned to see Janine at the end of the table.
The mayor banged his gavel. “Whether they did or not, it’s beside the point.”
“And the translation of that is,” Ted whispered, “Get Janine off the hot seat.”
“I don’t know why he’s always sticking up for her,” Liv said.
“Lack of backbone I suspect, but you didn’t hear it from me,” Chaz said in her ear. His breath sent shivers down her backbone, but not in a fun way.
Miriam Krause stood. “Well, what are we gonna do until this gets straightened out? We’ll be overrun by morbid gawkers and news folks when this gets out. It’ll scare away the shoppers.”
“Don’t know how you’re going to keep the curious away.”
“That’s right.”
“We just gotta make sure they’re buying and not just gawking.”
Rufus stood, smoothed his mustache. “I for one am impressed with the job Bayside Security performed. Liv, do we have funds for hiring this team of yours for a few more days until things settle down?”
“They should do it for free, useless waste of money if you ask me.”
“Nobody asked you.”
“They diffused a fight in the pub before anybody had a chance to break anything, including their heads. I say we hire them.”
“Right and they helped out with crowd control at the end of the ceremony,” Fred Hunnicutt added. “I say if we can, we should consider keeping them at least for the next two weeks through the Messiah sing-along and the Christmas pageant.”
“Now, let’s not get carried away,” the mayor said.
“He’s looking a little apoplectic,” Liv said.
“Probably worrying how the expenses will look in the next election,” said Chaz.
She turned her back on him. “Mr. Mayor, in my initial study of the efficacy of hiring a security firm . . .”
“The party of the first part, the hambone connected to the—”
“Shush,” she said and stood to look at the audience, all owners or managers of local stores.
All the businesses on the west side of the park where Trim a Tree was located were represented except for BeBe, who didn’t have anyone to watch the coffee bar while she was gone. Dolly and Fred were sitting together next to Quincy Hinks from the Bookworm. Nancy Pyne sat with her hands held in her lap. She smiled slightly as Liv caught her eye. Miriam Krause gave Liv a nod of encouragement.
“When I first began vetting companies for the job of security, I ran a comparative spreadsheet of the various packages the firms offered and their costs. I also prepared a specialized package for Celebration Bay’s security needs, one for intensive high-traffic events and one for daily maintenance in case we decided to go that route. I’d be happy to present that data to the committee. If I may?”
“Certainly,” the mayor said, but he looked apprehensive.
Beside him, Janine rolled her eyes and began to study her nails.
Liv clicked on the spreadsheet, which appeared projected on the wall behind the trustees. “On this first page are the basic proposals.” She waited for a minute to give them time to study it, then continued. “This second page bre
aks these down further to show individual a la carte services.”
“To be served with a dry burgundy,” Chaz said under his breath.
Liv refused to be baited. “I also have a comparison of incidents per capita from the last three tree lightings with this year’s preliminary reports, if the council is interested.”
“Of course we are,” Jeremiah said.
Liv pulled up the next graph, color coded. It drove her point home. Crime and accidents were down across the grid.
“I say we just let Liv do what she needs to do,” Roscoe said. “She obviously knows how to do it.”
Janine cut him a look but kept her mouth shut.
“Thank you for your input, Liv,” Mayor Worley said. “The trustees will take this into consideration when making a decision about continuing to use Bayside Security in the future.”
Janine shot Liv a smug look. Would she really leave the town underprotected just to get back at Liv? Maybe it was time to have a little talk with the woman.
“Well, I say we vote to keep them,” said Roscoe.
“At a later, closed meeting,” the mayor said.
“And I second Roscoe’s motion,” Rufus said.
“Not now,” the mayor urged.
“Chaz?” Roscoe asked.
“Sure.”
“So do I,” said Jeremiah. “And since Janine doesn’t have a vote, I say the vote carries.”
“Here, here.”
The room broke into a noisy gaggle of voices. Mayor Worley pounded his gavel to no avail. Only the door opening and Bill Gunnison walking in brought the room back to relative quiet. Two people were with him. One was Grace Thornsby; the other one had to be her husband, Clarence.
“Now maybe we’ll get some real answers,” Rufus said, and began chewing his mustache in anticipation.
“Sheriff,” the mayor said, his voice dropping half an octave. “Thank you for coming. Now, if you’ll all sit down, Sheriff Gunnison will apprise us of this ignominious occurrence.”
“Oh God, it’s catching,” said the voice behind Liv.
She didn’t bother to turn around. The mayor was sounding a little silly all of a sudden. Did she sound like that? She didn’t think so. She knew what she was doing. She fit her language to the situation. She knew how to persuade and it worked, she reminded herself. Chaz was just a . . . jerk who took delight in baiting her.
Bill motioned the Thornsbys to chairs at the side of the room. And Liv took the opportunity to get a good look at Grace’s husband. Middle-aged, wearing a suede jacket over a checked shirt, open at the collar. Tallish with a stomach that hung over his belt. He nodded his way to his chair and sat. Liv could imagine him doing his own boat commercials.
Bill stepped up to the podium, displacing the mayor, who moved down to occupy Chaz’s empty seat.
“Let me first thank everyone for keeping clear heads and cooperating with the investigation.” Bill gave the room the gist of what had happened, the barest details on the status of the case, and asked anyone who might have seen or heard something to please come forward, anonymously if they preferred. All information would be confidential.
He didn’t say anything that Liv hadn’t heard or seen before. And he left one big detail out altogether. The fact that Phillip Cosgrove was a private investigator.
One that followed cheating spouses. Liv glanced at Grace. Did she have a lover? Was that where she was when Cosgrove was being killed? Or had she found out about him and decided to kill him?
Don’t be absurd. But who? And why?
“The police have finished their preliminary investigation, and the Trim a Tree space has been cleared to reopen.”
The room erupted with angry voices.
“No. Haven’t they caused enough trouble?”
“Close down the Trim a Tree.”
“Quiet, let’s have some order here.” Bill looked at the mayor, who threw up his hands. Bill picked up the gavel and whacked it on the table once.
Everybody shut up.
Damn, thought Liv. He might be slow, he might have sciatica, but people listened to him.
“The Thornsbys did not come here to be badgered by your questions. Clarence asked to come and make a statement.”
Clarence nodded to the sheriff and stood. “I just want to let the people of Celebration Bay know how sorry both my wife and I are about the events of last night.”
“A man was murdered in your store.”
“I realize that. And it is unfortunate. But I don’t see that there was a way that I could have prevented it.”
Liv watched him speculatively. Where was he going with this? He should have given his goodwill speech before tragedy struck. Now he was in danger of throwing gasoline on the fire.
Several questions flew at once.
“Please let him finish,” Bill commanded.
There was some grumbling, but they quieted down.
“Thank you, Sheriff. That’s all I really have to say. Except, for everyone’s inconvenience, I’m offering a ten percent discount on all boating goods at any of my stores through the end of the month.”
There was a stunned silence.
It was the first time Liv had witnessed the entirety of the Celebration Bay business community at a loss for words.
Liv glanced at Ted, whose mouth had gone slack, and said, “I can’t believe he just used this tragedy as a promo op for his business.”
“What an ass,” Ted said.
Clarence gave the attendees a satisfied smile. “Thank you.” He turned toward his wife as if to leave.
“I have one question.”
The room stilled.
Liv couldn’t believe her ears. The laziest newspaperman in the state wanted to ask a question.
“Where was Ms. Thornsby during the tree lighting?”
Clarence glared at Chaz, glanced at his wife, and back to Chaz. “She was with me.”
A sigh of disappointment seemed to go out of the room. Celebration Bay liked their intrigue. But a wife spending an evening with her husband was nothing to get excited about.
The only person who looked shocked was Grace Thornsby.
Chapter Eleven
“He’s lying,” Chaz said under his breath but loud enough for Liv to hear him.
She slowly turned her head. Of course he was slouched in his chair with his eyes closed.
“No kidding,” she said. “Did you see Grace’s expression?”
A faint brief smile followed by a deep, slow breath. Liv didn’t get him at all. He was lazy, apathetic, and refused to get involved. So what was the point of dropping her a tidbit if he wasn’t going to follow up?
“Okay, everyone,” said Bill. “I didn’t bring the Thornsbys here to be chastised or questioned. Clarence asked to come to show his goodwill.”
Taking his cue, the mayor jumped up. “Thank you all for coming. And Merry Christmas.”
Merry Christmas? A man was dead. His murder was unsolved, and Clarence Thornsby had turned the meeting into a sales pitch.
The Thornsbys were the first to leave. Grace’s hand was tucked in Clarence’s. The room began to empty while Liv put away her laptop and shut off the projector. She was hoping to wait around until everyone was gone and talk to Bill. But the mayor and Bill left together.
Ted carried the projector back to the office. Liv slipped her computer bag over her shoulder and went to the door.
Only Chaz Bristow was left, snoring gently in his chair.
Liv gritted her teeth. “Good night,” she said and flicked off the lights.
The hallway was empty as Liv made her way back to her office. Usually after a meeting people stood outside chatting or complaining or planning trips to the pub, but not tonight. Liv yawned. They were probably already home getting ready for bed.
The majority of them would go to church the next morning, then head for their various businesses. Not even on Sunday did they get a day of rest when it was festival season, though the stores didn’t open until after noon.
“Want a ride?” Ted asked.
“Thanks, but no. It’s not late. I thought I’d drop by the Buttercup and see if BeBe wanted to go out for a drink or something.”
“Well, you girls have fun.” Ted threw his scarf around his neck with a flourish, setting off the jingle bells attached to the fringed ends.
Whiskey jumped up and wagged his tail.
“Sorry, fella, you’re stuck with the girls tonight. You want me to wait for you to finish here?”
“No, I’m just getting my coat and leaving, too.”
“Good night, then. Good night, dawg.” Ted left and closed the door. Whiskey barked. Ted stuck his head back in. “For we like sheep . . .”
“Aar-roo-roo-roo.”
Ted grinned at Liv. “I think we’re almost ready to start on the ‘Hallelujah Chorus.’”
Liv rolled her eyes; Ted closed the door. She could hear him humming as he walked down the hall to the front door. Liv grabbed her coat and clipped on Whiskey’s leash, then slid her laptop case over her shoulder—she probably wouldn’t be doing any work at home that night, but you never knew.
The cold hit her with a vengeance, and Liv shivered in spite of her coat. She pulled up the collar, pulled down her hat, and looked down at Whiskey. “Aren’t you the least little bit cold?”
He yipped and started down the steps.
She crossed the street and had to pull him past the Corner Café, which was just closing for the night. He was hungry and so was she, but she needed to satisfy one question. How dark was the alley?
Okay, two questions. Was it really dark enough for someone to steal the Santa suit, change into it, and go into TAT without being seen? Unless they had stolen the suit earlier and sneaked back through the parking lot after dark. Either way, she rationalized, she would need to do something about enhancing the lighting. And the only way she would know was to look.
This would be a perfect time, while things were still open and people were about. She wouldn’t walk down it alone, just stand at the entrance and take a recce.
She walked to the alley entrance. As she stood there, the lights in the Pyne Bough went dark. Nancy had been at the meeting; maybe she had come back to finish locking up. There was still light coming from the two side windows of the storeroom where Hank changed.
Silent Knife (A Celebration Bay Mystery) Page 12