Foul Play at the Fair

by Shelley Freydont

  “Nothing, nothing at all. I just don’t know whether I’m coming or going this morning. This whole thing has just got me discombobulated.”

  It looked like more than discombobulation to Liv, but she couldn’t force Dolly’s confidence. She wasn’t a close friend, though she’d thought until this week that they might become good friends. And she certainly had no authority to prod her for information. It wasn’t any of her business.

  The hell it wasn’t. This was her new life, her new friends, her new home. “Dolly, if you ever want to talk about anything…Just somebody to listen.”

  “No, I’m fine. Just fine. It’s just—” She looked around and then leaned over the counter. “Joss would never hurt anyone, especially not his own brother, even if Pete was no good. I just don’t understand why Bill let that happen. It’s not like him.”

  “I think it was taken out of his hands.”

  Dolly’s voice lowered to a whisper. “He should have arrested the Zoldoskys like everyone told him to do. No, I don’t mean that. It’s just—I better get back to these sticky buns before they harden.” She turned away. “Have a nice day,” she said as an afterthought and began to ruthlessly scrape the sticky buns onto a doily-covered platter.

  Deep in thought, Liv went next door for coffee.

  “Yikes,” said BeBe, frowning at Liv and giving her the once-over. “You look like you were up all night. Please tell me you were reading a page-turning thriller or out at a wild party, and not getting involved with Joss’s arrest.”

  Liv shrugged.

  “Oh Lord. I knew it. It’s the talk of the town, those state cops arresting Joss.”

  Liv started to tell her that he hadn’t been arrested, but maybe that had changed. She’d have to ask Ted.

  “Well?”

  “It’s a long story and I have to get to work. I’ll tell you later. When I know more.” Liv took her carton of drinks and headed to her office, wondering if Ted would already be there.

  He was. And not looking happy. “Where’ s—”

  “I left him at home.” Liv’s stomach burned. She should probably have gotten decaf. She handed him the bakery box and drinks and went into her office without a word.

  Ted came in a few minutes later, put the tray on her desk like every day, but Liv knew that today would be the pivotal point in their relationship.

  And where would her loyalties lie?

  She jumped in with both feet. “Do they still have Joss?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did Roseanne tell you why she came?”

  “No. She fell asleep before we’d gone half a block.”

  Liv nodded. “Catharsis.”

  “Possum.”

  “Maybe. Listen, Ted—”

  “I know. She made you promise, and you won’t break that promise.”

  “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. She’ll need a friend she can trust.”

  Liv was reaching for her coffee, mainly to have something to do, but she stopped, looked at him. Ted, as only Ted could, reached for his tea and took a sip.

  “Now more than any other time?”

  Ted handed her a fork across the desk. “Use this on the sticky bun. They’re a mess to eat, but worth it.”

  “Ted.” She drew out the word and gave him her most intimidating raised eyebrow.

  He gave her a half smile, no a quarter smile, in return. “Her father’s a suspect in a murder case. The sheriff who has known him for his entire life has been shoved aside by state detectives, and from what Bill told me, the detectives sent here are not happy about it and want it wrapped up yesterday.”

  “Then why are they here? Is murder their jurisdiction? I thought the county could do that.”

  “Ordinarily they would handle it first. If it isn’t a cut-and-dried case, they’ll bring in the state to coordinate with them.”

  “But according to everyone and their uncle, the state has taken over and pushed Bill out.”

  Ted shrugged. “Evidently.”

  “But it’s only been a few days.”

  “Which means they probably got nudged into taking over.”

  “By whom? Wouldn’t it take someone with influence?”

  “Probably.”

  “Any ideas?”

  The door to the outer office opened and two men walked in.

  “Speak of the devil.” Ted stood up, wiping his hands on a napkin, and went out to meet them. “Gentlemen, how can I be of service?”

  It had to be the state police. Both were of medium height, middle-aged, and wore dark suits.

  One stepped ahead of the other and pulled out an ID card. “I’m Lieutenant Devoti and this is Sergeant Pollack. Are you Theodore Driscoll?”

  “Yes, I am,” Ted said and shut Liv’s door, shutting Liv out of the conversation.

  She heard the muffled scrape of chairs, low-pitched voices. She was so tempted to tiptoe to the door and eavesdrop, but she sat there thinking furiously. If they wanted to question Ted, they might want to question her. After all, she was the third person—that she knew of—on the scene.

  Unfortunately, she was also the keeper of Roseanne’s confidences. Was it withholding information if she kept her promise? Would she be culpable? Was she willing to sic the police on a young and naive girl?

  Was that why Ted shut the door? So the detectives wouldn’t question her and she wouldn’t betray Roseanne? How could he think that? She wouldn’t obstruct the law and she wouldn’t lie. But she would convince Roseanne to tell Bill everything she knew, and Bill could deal with the information as he saw fit.

  She was a resident of Celebration Bay. And it was time she started acting like one.

  She pushed herself out of her chair and carefully made her way to the door. She knelt down and stretched her ear to the keyhole.

  “And what did you see when…” The voice trailed off so that she couldn’t hear the end of the question.

  “Well, Detective.” Ted’s voice was not loud but it carried right through the keyhole. “I told him not to touch anything and wait for me by the front door of the store.”

  “And did…”

  Liv made a face at the door. Couldn’t the man just ask a question without winding down to a whisper?

  “Yes. Joss was very upset, as you can imagine. He took me to the back room where the apple press exhibit was set up. And there was the body in the apple press.”

  “And did you…”

  “I think any situation in which a murder has been committed an odd one.”

  Bless you, Ted, Liv thought. He had excluded her from the interview, but he knew she’d be listening and he’d couched each question in his answer. He was unruffled but vague in his answers. He was keeping her up to speed and she’d take the cue to do the same; then she’d insist on calling Roseanne and Bill.

  “Can you think of…”

  “Pete Waterbury has not returned here that I know of for nigh thirty years. No one liked him then, but a lot can be forgotten in thirty years.”

  The detective pounced. “Like what?”

  “Whatever I suppose you would consider motives for murder. I wouldn’t know.”

  “Isn’t it true…”

  Liv was getting really annoyed at the way the detective’s sentences invariably trailed off, but at least she was receiving Ted loud and clear.

  “Yes, but it was never proven.”

  They were asking him about Victor’s death. Trying to make a case for Ted as the murderer? Don’t get too excited, fellas. There were plenty of people who might have a motive for murder. Ted was only one of them.

  Liv missed the next question.

  “I phoned her after I alerted the sheriff, Bill Gunnison.” A slight accusatory pause. Ted was good. He must have had speech classes in school. Debate club? Concentrate, Liv.

  “Because she’s the town’s event coordinator. Contingency plans had to be put in place immediately before a horde of tourists trampled all over the crime scene.”

 
“And what makes…”

  “Detective, the man was bleeding from a wound above his ear. And really, no one would climb into an apple press to die.”

  Liv could swear someone chuckled.

  She was sure of it when the detective snapped, “This is hardly funny, Pollack.”

  A mumbled, “No, sir.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Driscoll. Now we’d like to ask Ms. Mon—”

  Liv hurried away from the door, all those karate lessons making her light on her feet. She was seated at her desk when a strange buzzing sounded in her ear. Not her cell, but the intercom. They never used the intercom. Ted was giving her time to compose herself. She fumbled with the old-fashioned buttons.

  “Yes, Ted?”

  “Detectives Devoti and Pollack would like to ask you a few questions.”

  “Certainly. Send them in.”

  She pushed the tea tray aside and replaced it with her laptop. Her document on Chaz Bristow was open, and she clicked out of it just as the door opened and Ted ushered the two detectives in.

  Liv half rose to greet them. “Won’t you sit down?”

  Ted pulled up an extra chair, catching Liv’s eye before he placed it next to the one he’d been sitting in.

  “Thank you. That will be all.”

  Ted gave her a look over the detective’s head and left the room.

  The detective sat down across from Liv, but the sergeant continued to stand by the door. Probably an intimidation factor. It didn’t intimidate Liv. She’d dealt with the housewives of New Jersey.

  “You are Olivia Montgomery.”

  Liv winced. “Yes.”

  “And you are…” He consulted his notes. “Event coordinator for the town of Celebration Bay.”

  “Yes. For nearly six weeks,” she said, anticipating his next question.

  “And before that you lived in New York City?”

  “Yes.”

  “On the morning in question, did you receive a call from Theodore Driscoll?”

  “Theodore? Oh, you mean Ted. Yes, I did.”

  “At what time?”

  “Five thirty.”

  “And are you certain about that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I was asleep and thought it was my alarm. I reached to shut it off and saw the time, then realized it was my phone.”

  “And what did Mr. Driscoll say?”

  “That there was a problem and could I come out to the Waterbury farm.”

  “And do you often get called with problems that would cause you to leave your residence in the middle of the night?”

  “All the time.”

  The detective looked taken aback.

  “In your occupation as event coordinator.”

  “Yes.”

  His expression said he didn’t quite believe her.

  “For instance, the month before I came here, I had to drive to the Bronx before sunrise to pick up a dozen ice sculptures when the refrigerated truck broke down en route to the Plaza. Once, I had to—”

  “Thank you,” he said, unimpressed. He continued through his list of questions; the sergeant shifted his weight as if his shoes hurt.

  No, she didn’t know any of the people at the scene well. No, she’d never heard of Pete Waterbury until that morning. “Sorry, Lieutenant Devoti, that I couldn’t be more help.”

  He got the idea that he was being dismissed, and he didn’t even resent it. He had about as much interest in this case as a turtle. He stood up.

  “Thank you for your time, Ms. Montgomery, and if you think of anything else, please contact either me or Sergeant Pollack at this number.” He handed her his card, dipped his chin, and left, followed by the sergeant, who had not said a word.

  She followed them to the door, mainly to calm the flutters in her stomach. And to make sure they didn’t sneak back in to catch her and Ted comparing notes. Not that she had anything to be nervous about; she had nothing to hide.

  Okay. Maybe she had a little to hide. But mainly she was annoyed at the detectives’ obvious lack of interest. Halfway through Devoti’s rote questioning, she decided not to mention Roseanne’s late-night visit, her Peeping Tom theories, or the altercation between Ted and Pete. If she needed to give information, she would give it to Bill Gunnison.

  The detectives had reached the outer door when Devoti turned around. “Oh, does either of you recognize this?” He reached into an inner pocket and pulled out a folded check.

  Liv knew even before she looked at it what it was. “May I?” she asked, holding out her hand.

  Devoti handed it to her but hovered over her, probably in case she tried to eat it. He was really beginning to make her mad.

  She perused the check, not believing what she saw. One thousand dollars made out to Pete Waterbury and signed by both of them, Ted Driscoll and Liv Montgomery. It was Ted’s signature, but it wasn’t hers. Someone had forged her signature.

  She turned to Ted. “Looks like we found our missing check.”

  Ted moved close to see it.

  Devoti moved even closer. “Is that your signature?”

  “Of course not,” Liv said. “Ted and I noticed there was a check missing a few days ago. I figured I had forgotten to write it down.”

  “Do you often forget to enter expenses?”

  “Never. The town hires an accounting firm to balance the monthly accounts, but I keep a running account of expenses and income.”

  “You must handle large amounts of income from the various events.”

  “Yes, Detective, that’s one of the reasons we require two signatures on each check.”

  He turned on Ted. “Is that your signature?”

  Ted looked at the check. “Yes.”

  Devoti looked back at Liv.

  “Ted often signs a block of checks for me to sign when he’s not here. Obviously someone came in and helped themselves to a check and signed my name themselves.”

  “Not a very secure system.”

  “Perhaps not, but it’s the way we do things here.”

  The detective cleared his throat, letting her know what he thought of her business acumen. Behind him, Pollack was practically smirking.

  “And do you ever sign the check first and leave it for Mr. Driscoll to sign?”

  “Yes.” Liv turned the check over. “It hasn’t been endorsed or cashed.”

  “Apparently not.”

  “Well, that’s a relief.” She handed it back to him. “Is there anything else?”

  “Not at the moment.” Devoti nodded minutely and gave Liv a complacent smile that made her want to deliver a snap kick to his groin. “We’ll be around.”

  The sergeant quickly opened the door for him as he made his exit.

  Ted and Liv stood unmoving for a long minute after they left; then Liv turned to Ted. “Those were the dullest, most officious policemen I’ve ever met. And what was with the attitude? How on earth did they get assigned to this case?

  “Do you think they were trying to be stupid or are they just pissed to have to be working upstate?”

  “The detectives? Both, I imagine,” said Ted, and went into Liv’s office. Liv followed him in.

  “Did they think they were going to catch us off guard by waiting until they were leaving to pull out that check?”

  “This tea is cold.” Ted picked up the tray and carried everything back to his office.

  Liv followed after him. “But it is…” She groped for the right word. “Worrisome about the check.”

  Ted tossed cups and the remains of their sticky buns into the trash. “How about an early lunch.”

  “Fine,” she said, knowing that Ted would discuss this with her in his own time. “I’ll have a cup of butternut squash soup and a roast beef and Swiss wrap.”

  “Worked up an appetite, did you?”

  “Yes.” Liv sighed. “Answering police questions without volunteering information isn’t easy, and I don’t feel totally good about it.”

  “No
. I don’t feel so innocent myself.” But he looked innocent.

  “About the check.”

  “I didn’t forge your signature if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  “Of course not, but who do you think did?”

  “I have no idea, and I can’t think on an empty stomach.” He picked up the phone.

  The outer door flew open and crashed against the wall. Liv jumped. Ted dropped the phone.

  Donnie Waterbury rushed in, searching wildly around the room. “Where is she? What did they do with her?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Hey, where are your manners?” asked Ted.

  “Where is she?” Donnie’s fists clenched and he continued to look around the room.

  “I’m right behind you, butthead.” Roseanne appeared in the doorway, then slipped past Donnie to stand behind Liv.

  “Oh, for crying out loud.” Ted picked up the phone. “I guess that’s four for lunch.”

  “Where were you?” Donnie asked, trying to see Roseanne, who was using Liv as a buffer.

  “Why are you following me?”

  “Because I knew you were going to do something stupid.” He glared at his sister.

  “Who’s for roast beef and who wants turkey?” asked Ted over the yelling.

  “Well, I didn’t.”

  “They followed you in here.”

  “Make that two turkeys on wheat with lettuce and mayo, a roast beef and Swiss wrap, a butternut squash soup, and one pastrami on rye, extra pickles,” Ted said into the phone. “Delivery. Better throw in a couple of bags of chips, a couple of Cokes, and could you ask Henry to pick up our regular order from the Buttercup? Thanks, Genny. I’m sure it’s going to be fine. Yes, yes. Just the kids being rambunctious. Sure I will. Thanks a lot.” He hung up.

  “Now, who would like to go first?”

  “I told her not to come here. But no-o-o, she had to sneak off and talk to Miz-z-z Montgomery.” Donnie glared at Liv, his eyebrows knitted forbiddingly, dark curls tumbling over his forehead; Liv noticed he had the beginnings of a pimple in the crease of his nose.

  “Stay away from my sister. She’s just a kid and she doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

  “I do, too,” Roseanne answered around Liv’s shoulder. “So just shut up.”

  “Both of you,” Ted said. “Be quiet. And apologize to Ms. Montgomery for bursting in like you were raised in a stable.”