Overkilt

by Kaitlyn Dunnett

  “I felt at the time that she’d been browbeaten into staying. I should have done more to help her get away.”

  “Browbeaten? Or beaten?” Liss wouldn’t put it past Spinner to favor corporal punishment for infractions by his flock, and domestic violence was a way of life in far too many families.

  “I never saw any evidence of physical abuse, but she was definitely being manipulated by that bunch. She wanted to leave. After they coerced her into staying, she must have seen only one way out. When she drowned in the stock pond, it was ruled an accident, but I’ve always been convinced she took her own life.”

  Chapter Five

  Liss left home and walked to work earlier than usual on Saturday morning, hoping to avoid coming to the attention of the crowd already gathering in the town square. Thanks to Dan’s altercation with Hadley Spinner at Pilgrim Farm, Spinner’s followers knew exactly what she looked like.

  Her route took her along two sides of the square. When the volume of noise from the picketers suddenly dropped to near nothing, she knew she’d been recognized. Speeding up, she all but ran the last few feet to the Emporium. Catcalls followed her as she scurried up the porch steps, but at least no one shouted anything obscene.

  Once inside, Liss tried to go about business as usual, all too aware that in a few hours a bus full of potential customers would roll into town. The tour company, which specialized in scenic shopping adventures, had worked well with Moosetookalook’s Small Business Association for several years. The company scheduled five or six annual visits. All those who had shops on or near the town square had seen that same number of upticks in their profits.

  When the time came to unlock the door and flip the CLOSED sign to OPEN, Liss drew in a deep breath and risked taking her first good look at the activity on the opposite side of Pine Street. The breath came back out in a whoosh as she felt her eyes widen. So much for a small rally!

  The square was packed with placard-carrying demonstrators. Those in the distinctive black suits of the New Age Pilgrims were out in force, but they made up only a small fraction of the crowd. Sherri had warned them that there were people from away staying at the Day Lily Inn but Liss had never imagined there would be so many of them.

  She didn’t recognize anyone among those faces she could see clearly, but one thing was immediately obvious. There was not a single female among the demonstrators, nor were there any people of color.

  “Bigots,” Liss muttered as she released the dead bolt and turned the sign around. “Chauvinists.”

  The first old white guy who told her she should be at home, barefoot and pregnant, instead of running her own business, was going to get an earful. Liss didn’t consider herself a feminist, but she had been raised by one.

  She spotted several uniformed officers stationed at the edges of the crowd. Two wore the blue of the Moosetookalook Police Department while the others sported the tan slacks and brown shirts worn by Carrabassett County sheriff’s deputies. The last thing Liss wanted was a clash between demonstrators and the police, but she was glad the cops were present to keep an eye on things. As long as the picketers stayed in the square, there was still a chance that shoppers would be able to visit Moosetookalook’s businesses in peace.

  Liss had been staring at the scene in the town square for several minutes before she realized that the protestors were not just milling about. The lines were a big scraggly, but they were moving in an orderly fashion along the paths, following a route that brought each individual close enough to the Emporium for her to read the sign he carried.

  Several placards referenced Bible verses. Liss wasn’t enough of a churchgoer to know what Genesis 13:13 said, or Matthew 19:4:4, or Hebrews 13:4, but she could make an educated guess based upon the messages printed on other signs. One said PROTECT FAMILY VALUES and another, DO NOT LIVE IN SIN. Bold black letters on one large placard proclaimed: DIVORCE, REMARRIAGE, AND SAME SEX MARRIAGE ARE ALL SIN.

  Such narrow-mindedness is the real sin, Liss thought.

  She was about to abandon her post and try to get some work done when she caught sight of a sign with a slightly different message. It read: PREVERTS WILL GO TO HELL. The man who carried it wore a black suit and a derby.

  Liss fished her cell phone out of her pocket and used speed dial to contact the chief of police. “How common do you think it is to misspell pervert?” she asked when Sherri answered.

  “Not common enough to ignore. I’m on the corner by Angie’s Books.”

  “Then this guy is marching toward you. He’s one of Spinner’s lot.”

  “Not Spinner himself?”

  “I don’t think so, but you know how much they all look alike, especially at a distance.”

  Once she broke the connection, Liss craned her neck, hoping to see what happened on the far side of the square. Standing on tiptoe didn’t help, either. The trees weren’t an obstacle now that most of the branches were bare, but there were dozens of people between her vantage point and the spot where Sherri was most likely to intercept the Pilgrim who did not know how to spell.

  What she could see was the tour bus. It had just passed Patsy’s Coffee House and was about to stop in front of the municipal building. Before any of the passengers could disembark, a great shout went up from the demonstrators.

  Liss ground her teeth together as she watched the protestors swarm the vehicle, waving their signs and shouting at the people inside. She’d been worried that shoppers would have to cross a picket line, but this was far worse. Anyone who exited the bus would be obliged to wade through the middle of a frenzied mob.

  On leaden feet, Liss went out onto the Emporium’s porch. Ignoring the chill in the air, she clenched the smooth wood of the railing so hard that it made her hands ache, and she leaned out in an effort to see more of what was going on.

  Sherri and the other officers attempted to bring order to the chaos but their efforts met with little success. Spinner had amassed too many bodies. The demonstrators gave way only when the bus began to inch forward. Parting to let it through, they cheered when it drove away, taking potential customers for Moosetookalook’s businesses with it.

  * * *

  “Before you ask,” Sherri said as she stalked into the Emporium a couple of hours later, “I was not able to question the guy with the PREVERT sign.”

  She passed Liss and headed straight for the stockroom, emerging after a few minutes with a mug of coffee in one hand. She’d calmed down, but only a little. There was still an angry glint in her eyes.

  Liss sent a sympathetic smile her way. “I know you did your best to find him.”

  It had taken Liss at least an hour to regain her equilibrium after watching Spinner’s mob drive the tour bus away. Sherri hadn’t had the privacy—a dubious advantage under the circumstances—to let off steam and come to terms with the wretched turn events had taken.

  Picking up her own half-full mug from atop the sales counter, Liss joined Sherri in the cozy corner. “Are things quieting down any out there? I haven’t dared look.”

  “Not so you’d notice.” Sherri leaned her head against the back of the armchair and closed her eyes. “Those people are nuts, Liss. Complete and total loony tunes. The only thing they have going for them is that they aren’t violent. Spinner’s got them marching in a nice, organized formation.”

  “And chanting.” Although she couldn’t make out the words with her door and windows closed, Liss had been able to tell that much.

  “And chanting,” Sherri agreed. “They have a permit to demonstrate until dusk and it’s obvious they mean to stay till the bitter end.”

  “Who are they trying to impress? There hasn’t been any news coverage. Thank goodness!”

  Sitting up straight again, Sherri grimaced. “As near as I can tell, their aim is to convince nearby shopkeepers to blame you for driving their business away.”

  Liss gave an unladylike snort. “Does he really think they’re that stupid?”

  “He knows they’re upset. He’s hoping
they’ll take it out on you and Dan and Sam and Joe.”

  “It won’t work.” She wanted to believe that was true, but she’d been wrong before. “And Spinner certainly isn’t winning any friends by attacking Patsy. That PREVERT sign wasn’t the only one expressing anti-LGBTQ sentiments.”

  Sherri drained the last of the coffee from her mug before speaking. “I was closing in on the guy with the sign when the bus arrived. His back was to me, so I couldn’t get a look at his face. I don’t know which of the Pilgrims it was and, unfortunately, Spinner himself caught sight of where I was headed. I could all but see the light bulb go on over his head. While I was distracted by the mob scene around the tour bus, he must have warned his follower to ditch the sign. A while later, I found it behind a bush. It was pretty well trampled, but I may still be able to lift an identifiable fingerprint or two. Until I have time to get to it, I’ve locked it in my office for safekeeping.”

  “Here’s hoping you’re successful.” Liss lifted her mug in a toast before draining the last of the lukewarm coffee. Neither of them spoke while Sherri finished her drink. The only sound in the quiet shop was the steady chanting that filtered in from outside.

  “I need to get back to work.” Despite her words, Sherri made no effort to leave the chair.

  “Take another five. You look like you need it.”

  “Oh, thank you very much.” She managed a smile, but it was a paltry effort.

  Too restless to sit still any longer, Liss rose and went to the window. Across the way, Patsy was watching the activity in the square from the small stoop at the front of the café. Liss took that as a sign that she didn’t have any customers.

  With a sigh, she shifted her attention back to the demonstrators and frowned. The crowd seemed larger than it had been earlier. After a moment, she realized why.

  “Oh-oh.”

  “What?” Sherri was on her feet, hearing the alarm in her friend’s voice.

  Liss heard her crossing the shop but didn’t take her eyes off the scene beyond the plate glass. “Some of the locals are facing off with Spinner’s lot.”

  She recognized the couple from the jewelry store and Angie from Angie’s Books and even Joe Ruskin, who should have been at the hotel. He had a decidedly hostile look on his face.

  Stu Burroughs had left the ski shop to cross Pine Street and stand glaring at the protestors from the sidewalk. She could almost feel anger radiating from him in red hot waves. Stu was like a bantam rooster, easily riled and aggressive. In the usual way of things, he never completely lost his temper. He tended to retreat into his man cave and brood rather than do anything more violent than shout at the person who’d upset him.

  Then again, Liss thought, she’d always believed Dan to be the epitome of self-control. She’d certainly been wrong there!

  “Huh,” Sherri said from beside her.

  When Liss shot her a questioning look, Sherri simply pointed.

  “I don’t see—oh.”

  There, on the Birch Street side of the town square, right in front of Liss’s house, were her parents. They appeared to be quarreling. Knowing her mother, Liss could guess that she wanted to wade into the fray and possibly beat Spinner over the head with his own placard. Her father, always more level-headed, would be arguing that to do so would only make things worse.

  A movement nearer at hand caught Liss’s attention as Margaret emerged from the side of the building. She had the two Scotties with her on their leashes. As if the picketers were beneath her notice, she crossed Pine Street and plunged into the swirling mass of humanity. The dogs, thinking this was a new game, darted this way and that, barking joyfully and causing more than one demonstrator to leap out of the way. After a moment, they were swallowed up by the crowd.

  “Is there anyone who isn’t out there?”

  Although it had been a rhetorical question, Sherri responded. “Dan had better not be.”

  Liss turned, ready to snap at her friend, but before she could get a word out, Sherri had opened the door. Liss followed her as far as the porch, where they both stopped dead.

  Demonstrators at the corner of Pine and Birch had scattered. The chanting had died away, replaced by shouts. It took Liss a moment to understand what had happened. Then she saw that two men were at the heart of the commotion. One was a figure in a black suit. The other was Stu Burroughs.

  Following Sherri, Liss ran toward them. She was concerned on her neighbor’s behalf. She had never known exactly how old Stu was, but Stu’s Ski Shop, with its purple shutters and its life-sized skier on the sign mounted on the roof of the front porch, had been in the same location for as long as she could remember. When Stu had stopped dying his hair to a flat black a few years earlier and started growing a beard, both had come in as a match for the salt and pepper coloring of his bushy eyebrows. Whatever his age, he wasn’t in good shape. He’d been roly-poly enough to play Santa Claus in the annual Christmas festivities for at least a decade and now his pudgy face had gone beet red and his breathing was ragged.

  As she closed the distance, Liss recognized Stu’s opponent. Hadley Spinner had clenched his right hand into a fist and drawn it back from his body, primed to throw a punch.

  “Break it up, you two!” Sherri shouted,

  Her command had no effect on either man, but with the help of another officer, she kept Stu and Spinner apart.

  Liss hung back while Sherri talked them down, but despite having to hug herself for warmth, she didn’t return to her shop. If Stu was marched off to the municipal building with its single small holding cell in the police station, she would have to bail him out.

  Instead, Sherri released him. Liss watched Stu stomp back across Pine Street and up the steps to his shop. He went inside and slammed the door behind him. A moment later, the CLOSED sign appeared in the window.

  “Crisis averted,” Sherri said, returning to her friend’s side.

  Spinner had already disappeared into the crowd of demonstrators.

  “What was that all about? Beyond the obvious.”

  “I have no idea. Any suggestions? You know Stu better than I do.”

  Liss shook her head. “When Stu was dissing Spinner at my birthday party, Patsy hinted that the bad blood between them went way back, but no one mentioned any details.”

  “Tempers are short on both sides.” Sherri’s voice was grim.

  “I don’t know what the demonstrators have to complain about,” Liss said, “but the merchants who counted on the tourists on that bus spending money in Moosetookalook have every right to be upset.”

  “I’ve never seen Stu that angry. Maybe what’s happening here today isn’t the only thing he’s mad about.”

  Liss gazed thoughtfully at the ski shop. As she watched, a curtain in an upstairs window was drawn back. Stu must have gone straight up to his apartment above the store. He held a can of beer in one hand and was scowling as he stared at the scene in the town square. If looks could kill, Liss thought, Hadley Spinner would be dead right now.

  * * *

  It was like watching a train wreck, or a ten car pileup on the interstate. No matter how much Liss wanted to look away from what was happening across the street, her gaze kept returning to the demonstration.

  At some point during the early afternoon, every shopkeeper in the vicinity had come out to stare. Other townspeople, too, had gathered to watch and shake their heads. Liss had heard the occasional catcall, but there were no further confrontations. Hadley Spinner kept his troops under control, endlessly walking the paths in the town square and chanting. The altercation with Stu didn’t seem to have slowed him down in the least.

  Just when she thought that things might be winding down, the news van from Channel Six showed up. Liss watched in an agony of indecision as they interviewed Spinner. Should she go out and try to tell her side of the story, or hope Spinner would condemn himself by spouting his radical opinions? Close-up shots of a few of those placards ought to make it clear to viewers that he was just using his opposit
ion to the hotel’s Thanksgiving promotion to advance his own agenda.

  In the end, Liss decided she was likely to do more harm than good if she tried to talk to a reporter. As worked up as she was, she’d come off sounding defensive, or end up making accusations against Spinner and his people. Since the New Age Pilgrims were a church of sorts, her words could all too easily be misinterpreted as an attack on religion. That Spinner had no tolerance for views other than his own was beside the point.

  When the camera swung in her direction, she hastily backed away from the Emporium’s window. There were no customers in the shop. There hadn’t been a single one all day. As much to keep herself from going out as to prevent the camera crew from coming in, Liss locked the front door and flipped the OPEN sign around to read CLOSED. Then she retreated into the stockroom to focus on filling orders.

  It helped to remember that if Spinner had been hoping to hurt her online business with his social media campaign, he had failed rather spectacularly. Several customers had added notes to their shopping carts to say that they sympathized with her situation.

  Liss didn’t usually work to music, but on this occasion she was moved to dig out the iPod her part-time summer employee, Angie’s daughter Beth, had forgotten when she left for college in September. The earbuds effectively blocked out the chanting and most other sounds as well.

  Listening to loud but unfamiliar tunes, Liss got busy. It was some time later when real-life pounding on the door of the shop conflicted with the beat of a drum solo and caught her attention. She chose to ignore the summons. After a few minutes, whoever wanted to get in gave up and went away.

  Liss half expected the knocker to move on to the side door, which opened directly onto the driveway from the stockroom, and was glad she’d taken the precaution of locking it. Just to be on the safe side, she turned her back on the glass panel set into it and resumed unpacking new stock, but no one tried to get in that way. It was a bit later before it occurred to her that, from the street, the stockroom door was hidden from view by the stairs leading up to Margaret’s second-floor apartment. No one unfamiliar with the building would know it existed.