by K E O'Connor
“Looks good,” Zara said.
“Are you interested in giving out balloons on the day?” I asked her, thinking about the hundreds of inflated balloons that would soon be arriving.
She nodded. “Probably be fine.” Zara turned and ambled to her desk.
I was always careful with Zara, not wanting to push her too hard. I remembered her before the uprising. She’d been a sweet woman and had worked at the nearby animal sanctuary. Sadly, zombies and animals didn’t mix well. Although, Stool seemed to like Zara.
I cleared away the pictures, printed the final details for the float participants, and handed them to Zara. “Can you take these to everyone taking part and get them signed? Everyone knows you’re coming, you just need to give them the form, get them to sign it, and make sure they give it back to you and return them here.”
“Can do that,” Zara said.
“It’s best to go early, so the tourists don’t get in your way.”
Zara’s gaze moved to the window, the street already busy with passers-by. “Go now.” She picked up the papers and left the office without another word.
Zara would be okay with this task. The people she’d visit were kind to placids. It did her good to get out of the office and interact. Sometimes, if a zombie became too isolated, they stopped functioning.
I spent the next two hours updating the tourism social media sites, announcing the floats and detailing the amazing businesses that would sell their goodies. My mouth watered as I typed about the tasty pasties, cider, and handmade chocolates. It all sounded delicious. The phone also kept me busy. It was mainly tourists asking about room availability, directions to the town, and parking.
After emptying my email box and sorting through the mail, I was ready for a break. Laura’s diner was calling to me.
Zara was still out delivering the forms, so I shut the office and walked to the diner. As usual, it was almost full. I grabbed a seat at the counter and gave Laura a wave when she spotted me.
“How are things going with the carnival?” Laura set a menu in front of me.
“Almost done,” I said.
“I can’t wait to see it.” Laura’s dark eyes grew concerned. “Is everything still on track? I know Bert was this year’s sponsor.”
“I’m going to double-check. Bert was more of an agreement in principle sort of guy. He never signed the sponsorship agreement. I’m sure his business partner, Johnny, will be okay about it. He knows Bert loved the carnival. He’d want to honor the agreement we made.”
“Did you see Sybil Figgins is in town?” Laura looked at a table at the back of the diner.
I swiveled in my seat and spotted two women sitting together. It was Sybil and Miriam. “Excellent! I want to speak to Sybil.”
“You do? I didn’t know you were friends,” Laura said.
“We’re not enemies.” I grinned at Laura.
“Be careful. She’s not said a kind word since she arrived.” Laura sighed. “When I took over the food a few minutes ago, I heard her mention something about the police. I wonder if they’ve been asking her about what Bert.”
“They have. I saw Alex going into Miriam’s house this morning.”
Laura raised her eyebrows. “What were you doing over there? You’re not rich enough to walk along that street.” She laughed as I tried to swat her with the menu.
“I thought I’d have a chat with Sybil and see if I could learn more about Bert. Strictly on a business basis, you understand. With Bert’s name linked to the carnival, I have to make sure there aren’t any problems.”
“Of course,” Laura said. “You weren’t being nosy.”
“I’m never nosy, just curious.” I grinned. “I should speak to Sybil. My curiosity aside, I want to see if she’d like anything added to the procession. Since Bert’s sponsoring the floats, it seems right to commemorate him in some way.”
“You could try that angle,” Laura said. “But don’t expect a warm welcome. Sybil sent back her coffee twice because it was bitter. My coffee’s never bitter.” Laura swiped a cloth over one shoulder and frowned.
I placed my order for spicy flat bread with hummus and a chili oil infused salad before hopping off my seat and walking over to Sybil.
She might be a scary dragon at times, but I had to know more about what happened to Bert, if only to stop Nick from pointing the finger at me or my zombies.
As I approached the table, Sybil and Miriam looked up and stopped talking.
“It’s nice to see you back in town, Sybil,” I said. “Are you looking forward to the carnival?” I could see her blue eyes were red-rimmed, as if she’d been crying.
“I was,” Sybil sniffed, dabbing at her nose with a hanky. “Then this dreadful business with Bert happened. He was an awful husband, but this isn’t what I wanted for him. Bitten by zombies.”
“It’s sad news,” I said. “What do the police think happened?”
“Sybil doesn’t want to talk about it,” Miriam said, her bright pink painted lips pressing together in a thin line. “The police were most unkind when they spoke to her today.”
“They’ve been speaking with you?” I asked, keeping my focus on Sybil and ignoring Miriam’s death stare.
“Some new officer I’ve never met before, and one who’s young enough to be my son, asked if I had any reason to harm Bert.” Sybil sniffed again.
“He did cheat on you, repeatedly,” Miriam muttered. “That’s a pretty good reason.”
“I know that! I’d still never kill him.” Sybil shot her sister a glare.
“I would if he was my lousy husband.” Miriam stabbed at a curly fry on her plate.
Perhaps I should add Miriam to the suspect list for Bert’s murder. She clearly didn’t like him and knew how to wield a fork with a ruthless efficiency.
“Did you know that Bert was sponsoring the carnival procession this year?” I said to Sybil.
“Are you worried you won’t get your money?” Miriam’s eyes narrowed. “Is that why you’re here?”
“Bert was an honorable man, I’m sure Figgins Golf Supplies will be happy to keep supporting us.” At least, I hoped they would. “I was thinking we should do something nice to commemorate Bert after the procession is over. Maybe a stand where people can leave comments in a book and pictures of him. Would you be interested in helping to organize that?” I said to Sybil.
“Bert Figgins was a cheating swine,” Miriam said. “Sybil doesn’t want anything to do with this memorial plan.”
Sybil frowned. “Wait a moment, Miriam, that’s not true. Bert wasn’t a good husband, but I should commemorate him. It’s only proper. The town loved him.”
Miriam shook her head and dug into the plate of food in front of her.
I needed to get Sybil away from Miriam so I could learn more about Bert without her poisoned jibes influencing her sister. “Why don’t we meet for coffee later today and talk about it?”
“What a waste of time,” Miriam muttered.
“I’d like that. Thank you, dear,” Sybil said. She reached over and patted my arm.
Laura waved at me, letting me know my lunch order was ready. “Drop by the tourism office about three o’clock and we can chat about the memorial.”
“I’ll do that,” she said. “Thank you for thinking about Bert. It’s kind of you.”
I headed back to the counter to collect my food, feeling a little guilty that my motives weren’t selfless.
“How are the wicked witches of Zee Town?” Laura asked.
“Miriam’s her usual charming self. Sybil seems upset about Bert’s death. We’re meeting later for coffee. I’ll find out more, then.”
“You’re moving up in the world if you’re having coffee with Sybil Figgins.”
“She didn’t invite me to the house,” I said with a grin. “She’s slumming it in my office.”
“Make sure to take some of my homemade cookies,” Laura said. “That might get her to loosen up and tell you all she knows about Bert.”
“Good thinking. I’ll have a dozen.” I dug into my food. The chili infused dressing on the salad gave it the perfect bite. It didn’t take me long before I’d finished.
Laura tidied away my dish, and I settled the bill. She leaned over the counter, her voice low. “You know, I heard it wasn’t only Bert who had a special friend on the side.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Sybil had a boyfriend while she was married to Bert?”
“So I heard,” Laura said. “And someone close to home.”
“Who?”
She grinned, unable to suppress the gossip any longer. “Bert’s business partner.”
“Johnny Catt and Sybil?” I couldn’t imagine a stranger couple. While Bert was a traditional old school golfer type, happy in slacks and a diamond print sweater, Johnny Catt played on the similarity of his name to the old time country singer Johnny Cash. He strutted around in a cowboy hat and too tight jeans.
“I heard that Johnny even wrote Sybil a love song,” Laura said.
My eyes were wide with disbelief. “Are you being serious?”
“Absolutely! It seems that Sybil fell for his good old cowboy charm.”
I glanced at Sybil. She was so prim and proper, with her knee-length shift dress in dark navy and a set of pearls around her neck. Sybil and Johnny Catt? Impossible.
“Maybe she’ll tell you about Johnny when you meet later.” Laura winked at me as she passed me my change and the bag of cookies.
My thoughts tumbled over themselves as I headed to the office. My lunch break had been much more productive than I’d expected.
Maybe Sybil and Johnny had got rid of Bert so they could start a new life together? Bert had refused to let Sybil go, so she got rid of him to be free to marry Johnny?
I chuckled to myself as I walked along the sunny street. That was a crazy idea. I couldn’t believe that Sybil and Johnny were an item, let alone that they’d conspired to bump off Bert and make it look like the zombies had eaten him for lunch.
Still, it would be interesting to see how Sybil reacted when I dropped Johnny’s name into the conversation.
And then there was mean Miriam. Did she despise Bert so much that she killed him?
I now had more suspects on my list for Bert’s murder, and I have happy that none of them were zombies.
A human had to be behind this murder. I just needed to figure out if it was Sybil, Miriam, or Johnny.
Chapter 11
I spent the next few hours focused on carnival events. Tourist numbers looked amazing, and I didn’t have a single empty stall for carnival day. Everything was going perfectly.
I took a break for a few minutes to do a swift Internet search on Johnny Catt. It wouldn’t hurt to discover a bit of background about Sybil’s secret boyfriend.
My eyes widened when a newspaper report popped up detailing a fraud case Johnny was implicated in. I skimmed through the article, noting that he hadn’t been charged. From the tone of the article, everyone thought he was guilty, but couldn’t prove it.
The bell over the office door rang abruptly. Nick barged in, Stool hop-walking behind him. “What would make a placid zombie bite a human?”
“Good afternoon to you, Officer Morton,” I said. “Why do you ask?”
“There must be a reason a zombie attacked Bert.” Nick ran a hand through his dark hair.
“Nothing would make a placid zombie bite a human. A zombie didn’t kill Bert. You’ve made a mistake.”
“I’m still waiting for your statement.” Nick frowned as he pulled up a chair and sat in front of my desk without an invitation.
“About that. I’m not only innocent, but I’m really busy.”
“Poking about in this murder.”
“No! Arranging the carnival and making sure no innocent names get dragged into your investigation.”
“Exactly what I said. You’re getting involved when they need to stay clear.”
Stool limped over and sat at my feet, his gaze going from my face to the plate on the desk where two cookies sat.
“Have you not been feeding Stool?” I asked.
Nick gave me a dark look. “He gets fed well enough. And I know he gets extras at yours. I’ve seen the dog biscuits in your shopping basket.”
I raised my eyebrows, surprised to know that Nick had noticed me when I was doing my weekly shopping. I hoped he hadn’t spotted the cakes I liked to sneak into the bottom of my trolley, underneath the vegetables.
I broke apart a cookie and fed it to Stool, who chomped on it happily. I looked at the other one and ate it. I couldn’t imagine Nick liked cookies. Even if he did, he didn’t deserve this one.
Nick’s pale blue eyes narrowed slightly as he watched me finish the cookie. “There’s no chance a rabid zombie has slipped in. I’ve checked with our patrols around Zee Town’s perimeter and did a check with my team just yesterday, too. There are no signs of any intruders or damage to the fencing.”
“That’s good to know.” Our town had an unusual geography, with a wide expanse of sea to our back and hills in front. We were well-protected and easy to defend. Add to this a crack team of border patrol officers, run by Archer Rhinehart, and we were as secure as could be. It was how we’d stopped zombies overrunning Zee Town and why we were considered one of the safest refuges in the world for placid zombies.
“It doesn’t help me figure out what happened to Bert.” Nick sighed and looked at the empty cookie plate.
I almost felt guilty that I hadn’t shared with him. “It wasn’t a zombie. We haven’t had a breach in the fence for years. Besides, a rabid zombie wouldn’t be able to keep hidden. Their hunting instinct would take over.”
“That’s what I figured,” Nick said. “And no one has reported anything strange.”
Since Nick wanted to talk about Bert, I’d take advantage. “What about the bite marks? Did they look like Bert was attacked or merely nibbled?” It was a gruesome topic of conversation, but most of us were blasé about talking bite marks and attack wounds. We’d lived with it for years.
Nick ran a hand through his hair again, messing it up. It made him look more approachable, even quite handsome when his hair was like that. “That’s the strange thing; the bite marks look almost strategic. There were some on Bert’s throat and on his arms, but not like an uncontrolled attack you’d see with a rabid zombie. That’s why I’m thinking it was one of our own.”
“But why? We feed them well. We look after them and make sure they have somewhere to stay. It makes no sense that one of our zombies would attack Bert. Besides, he liked them. He even employed a few in his store and had given a couple a trial as golf caddies.”
“Cassie, don’t be naïve. We’re still learning about the zombies,” Nick said. “I know the ones we have in Zee Town are supposed to be safe—”
“They are safe. You know that,” I said. “The only problem zombies give us is when their decay gets too advanced or someone roughs one up. Then we have the difficult job of patching them up.”
“You could be right,” Nick said with a sigh. “But the Council are on my back about getting a swift result in this case. Bert was well liked and brought in a lot of money to Zee Town.”
“That’s not an excuse to point the finger at just anybody, though,” I said.
“You’re right again,” Nick said, his gaze intent on mine. “When did you get so smart?”
“If you weren’t always snapping at me, you’d know I was clever enough.” I felt a shiver of surprise. Was this an alliance forming?
“You’re our regular zombie queen,” Nick said with a grin. “The font of all knowledge when it comes to our walking dead.”
“I’m what?” I blinked at him in surprise. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard him say that about me, but I still hated it.
“Come on, the way the zombies react around you. They follow you about and are always staring at you. You’re a zombie magnet.” He waved his fingers in the air. “Like their queen, giving them orders. Your will
ing subjects.”
“That’s rubbish.” I reached up and smoothed my hair. “You make me sound like a mutant.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.” Nick’s smile wavered. “It’s just the way you are with them, it’s like they look up to you. And you have pale skin, like a lot of the new zombies. Have you always been that pale?”
“Yes!” I sighed. Just when I was thinking Nick had a decent bone in his body, he insulted me.
“Are you sure? Jen showed me pictures of you when you were younger. You—”
“Hold on a minute. When have you been looking at pictures of me?”
Nick’s cheeks flushed. “I was at the salon. Jen was looking through some old photo albums. I’ve seen you with a tan. I’m guessing you don’t tan anymore. Not being so ghostly white.”
“So what if I don’t?” I glowered at Nick. I could sit in the sun for an hour and I just went red. Although, when I thought about it, he was right, I did used to tan more easily.
“Forget I said anything,” Nick said.
“Good thinking. It’s time you left. I’ve got work to do.” I stood and marched to the door.
“I’ve got more questions about the zombies,” Nick said, a startled look on his face. “I want a list of the top five zombies most likely to attack Bert. The ones you consider the most unstable.”
My eyes widened as I stared at him. “I’m not helping you pin Bert’s murder on a zombie. You come in here demanding to know about placids, then call me a zombie queen and make personal comments about the way I look. You’re lucky I don’t bite you myself.”
“Wait! Cassie, I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I’m not upset. I’m angry.” And I was. I shouldn’t care what Nick thought about me, and I hated the fact that I did.
Nick stood and stuffed his hands into his pants pockets. “I also didn’t mean for that to happen. You know about zombies, and I know this case interests you.”
My top lip curled. “I should speak to the Council about getting a replacement police sergeant. You don’t know the first thing about half the residents in this town.”
Stool whined and limped to the door. He always hated it when we argued. We seemed to do it a lot. There was something about Nick that got me hot under the collar.