Shelley Freydont - Celebration Bay 03 - Independence Slay

by Shelley Freydont

  “Well… Ted noticed something off about the signal and went to see if something was wrong. I just followed him.”

  “Well, let us know if there’s anything Fred or I can do, though I’m sure you and Chaz will get to the bottom of it.”

  “Chaz isn’t here, Dolly.”

  “Oh, are you sure? Fred said he thought he’d seen his SUV in the Quickie Mart parking lot.”

  “I don’t know,” Liv said. “I’d better get going.”

  Dolly hurried back to the bakery, and Liv went next door to the Buttercup Coffee Exchange. The sign for today’s special advertised the YankeeSnickerDoodle blend.

  “How do you come up with these names?” Liv asked BeBe.

  “It’s a knack,” BeBe told her. “And too sweet for you. You won’t like it. But, the One if by Land is a double shot of espresso with a dollop of whipped cream and cinnamon. It’s pretty good.”

  “I’ll have—”

  “I know, a double-shot latte, plain.” BeBe made her latte, then placed a tall cardboard cup on the counter. “Ted came in earlier for his tea.” BeBe sighed. “He wouldn’t try the Boston Tea Party brew, either.”

  Liv took her coffee. “Hey, I tried the Jingle Bell Jamaican last December.”

  “Once. That’s okay. You have other good qualities.”

  “Thanks,” Liv said. “Well, I’d better get going. A line is forming behind me.”

  She nodded to several women she sort of recognized and continued to the door, where she stopped with her hand on the knob.

  “They say Bill Gunnison has taken that Morgan boy into custody. Always thought there was something wrong with him. Now we know,” one of the women said as Liv passed.

  “I wonder how they caught him so fast?”

  “They must have gotten a tip.”

  The gossip was starting already. And this bunch had it all wrong.

  “Well, I don’t believe it. He’s a little slow, but he’s always seemed so nice. Oh, good morning, BeBe, did you hear… ?”

  Liv let herself out and hurried down the sidewalk. They’d had a tip all right. An SOS. But if Rundle had bled out immediately like A.K. said, who gave the signal of alarm?

  Chapter Six

  Liv was a little unnerved from that whole encounter. She sure hoped people didn’t assume Leo was guilty just because he was a little different. Though people tended to do just that. What did that one woman say? He always seemed so nice.

  Of course, that’s what they always said about psychopaths that went on killing sprees. Not funny, Liv. Leo was just a kid in the wrong place when something bad had happened. She was sure Bill had let him go by now.

  But what really worried her was that she hadn’t thought to ask Ted who he thought had signaled the SOS.

  She stepped up the pace, hoping to catch Ted before he left the office for parade duty.

  Some kids saw Whiskey and came over to pat him. Then others joined them. Whiskey preened and licked hands and made himself adorable. Liv finally managed to pull him away, but this was just the beginning.

  While they were standing there, Quincy Hinks came out of the Bookworm. “Just heard about Rundle. Heart attack?”

  Liv shrugged and held up her hands, pulled Whiskey away from the kids, and kept walking, right past Bay-Berry Candles. Now if she could just—

  But everyone she passed wanted to stop and chat. Ask questions about what had happened the night before. Most didn’t know exactly what had gone on other than there had been a lot of cop cars around the Gallantine estate and that someone thought they’d seen the coroner’s van.

  Liv just nodded, shrugged, and kept walking.

  “Yoo-hoo, Liv?” Miriam Krause, the owner of A Stitch in Time fabric-and-quilting store, stuck her head out the front door and motioned Liv over. “I was talking to Mr. Valenski at the newsstand earlier this morning, and he said that Hildy Ingersoll came in for Henry’s newspaper, and she told him that Leo Morgan killed Jacob Rundle last night.”

  Liv did not want to be drawn into any gossip this morning and had meant to keep walking. But this stopped her. “She went in for Mr. Gallantine’s newspaper? But I thought he had left for the summer.”

  Miriam flipped her hand. “Should have. He usually has the car packed and waiting. As soon as he plays the ghost in the reenactment, he drives out of town.”

  So where was he? And why was Hildy getting his paper if he wasn’t here? Did Hildy know where he was?

  “What else did Mr. Valenski—”

  Unfortunately, the same Westie who would have sat and played with the children just a few minutes ago suddenly realized they were near the office, where he would be given his star biscuit, and he pulled at the leash.

  “Heel,” Liv said. Whiskey barked and pulled harder. “Sorry. Too much excitement.”

  “Don’t you worry about it. He’s cute as can be. I tell you, I don’t believe it for a minute.”

  It took a beat before Liv realized she was back to talking about the murder and not Whiskey.

  “Poor boy, he never did anybody any harm, and you tell Bill Gunnison not to be too quick to judge.”

  “Will do,” Liv called back as Whiskey took off down the sidewalk. “Sorry, Miriam, gotta run.”

  Liv and Whiskey practically ran the rest of the way to Town Hall. Liv didn’t even reprimand him. She needed to see Ted before he left for the parade.

  Ted was just coming out the door as they reached the Events Office.

  “Who’s my favorite dawg?” Ted crooned.

  “Aroo-roo-roo.”

  Ted laughed. “Yankee doodle…”

  “Arroo-roo-roo.”

  “Ted, come inside, now.”

  Song forgotten, Ted followed her back inside. “What’s up?”

  She told him about the women at the Buttercup.

  “Bunch of old—well, never mind, there’s always a few.”

  “So, have you heard from Bill this morning?”

  “Yes, and don’t worry. Leo is a witness, not a suspect.”

  Liv let out a huge pent-up sigh. “Bill won’t charge him?”

  “No. Not unless he gets some real evidence.” He eased Liv’s latte out of the tray, flipped the tab of the cup top back. “Drink. We’ve got a parade to attend.”

  “In a minute,” Liv said. “Who signaled the SOS?”

  Ted frowned. “I assume Rundle must have.”

  “A.K. said he bled out almost immediately. So he couldn’t have.”

  “Maybe he… I don’t know, Liv. Let Bill figure it out. Now, I’ve got to get over to the parade start.”

  “Okay, but listen to this.”

  Ted tilted his head and looked at her. “Yes?” he said patiently.

  “Miriam Krause was at the newsstand this morning and Mr. Valenski said Hildy picked up Henry Gallantine’s newspaper this morning. Why would she do that?”

  Ted’s eyes widened slightly. “A creature of habit, maybe.”

  “Or she knows where Henry is.”

  “Or she knows where Henry is. I’ll call Bill on my way over. Unless you want to.”

  “Not me.”

  Ted grinned. “Want me to be the one who gets in trouble?”

  “Hey, I didn’t ask any questions. I was just walking to work like I do every day, minding my own business…”

  “Uh-huh. Now, you sit down at your desk and drink your coffee and then go get a good seat for the parade.”

  “I was thinking of maybe watching from my office window.”

  Ted raised an eyebrow. “This is not the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. It’s more fun down in the thick of it.”

  “I wasn’t worried so much about the fun, as I thought it would give me a good bird’s-eye view.”

  “So you can see any snafus as they occur? And what on earth would you be able
to do from up here?”

  “Call you?”

  “I’m turning off my cell. See you on the sidelines.” He slipped out the door before she could answer.

  She gave Whiskey his biscuit and went to her office to look out the window. She could see Ted striding down the street.

  “He wouldn’t really turn off his phone, would he?”

  “Arf,” said Whiskey and curled up on his pillow where he proceeded to demolish the doggie star.

  • • •

  Liv found a place for herself near the grandstand. The crowd was three deep in some places, children sitting on the curb in front of the lawn chairs, people standing behind.

  The parade was everything Liv had expected from a small-town celebration. It was led by Mayor Worley, smiling and waving from the front of a vintage Cadillac convertible, his brilliantined hair catching the light and shining from sea to sea. He was followed by the reenactment army, looking a little bleary-eyed from their battle and, Liv suspected, an after-reenactment party at McCready’s Pub the night before.

  She was surprised to see slings and bandages and even one guy on crutches. Daniel Haynes led the cadre on horseback, and Liv couldn’t blame the soldiers for keeping a good distance behind the horse. Haynes didn’t look extremely happy to be there, but at least he didn’t have to march. Those uniforms had to be sweltering in the sun.

  Liv just hoped they were staying hydrated.

  “So, what do you think so far?” Ted asked, slipping in behind her.

  “It’s great. The army has even bandaged itself up like they have been in a real battle.”

  Ted snorted a laugh. “Those are real and mostly self-inflicted. It’s the same every year. Scrapes and cuts and whatnot. I was just talking to Rufus and Roscoe at the starting location. Winston Carew tripped over a root and knocked his tooth out. He spent most of the battle at the dentist’s office. Clarence Moffat broke his collarbone jumping from a rock. One of the new guys had five stitches where he walked into a Do Not Enter sign in the parking lot. A few miscellaneous cuts and bruises. Surely the original patriots were more coordinated than these guys.” He chuckled. “Even Daniel Haynes sprained his ankle when his foot caught in his stirrup as he tried to dismount. Almost missed the whole thing taking a call of nature right before the signal sounded.” He laughed. “And a good time was had by all. You gotta love them.”

  “I don’t suppose they get workmen’s comp.”

  “No. But they do have to sign a waiver form so that the Reenactment Committee is not held responsible for acts of stupidity. All right, I’ve got to make sure the floats are fanning off at the end and not blocking traffic in front of the post office. See you later.”

  His last words were drowned out as the high school marching band stopped in front of the grandstand. They were followed by several antique cars, a fire engine, and a police bagpipe-and-drum corps. There was a group of young girls twirling batons and wearing sequined outfits and another group of tap dancers from a nearby dance school.

  Two trucks of veterans came next, one filled with young men and women returned home from the current fighting around the globe, and another where five wizened old men, survivors of World War II, sat in one corner, holding on for dear life. Liv thought they should have gotten a smaller, more comfortable vehicle. They looked very lonely up there by themselves. But they were cheered just as enthusiastically as everything and everyone else.

  Floats were sponsored by local businesses, churches, service organizations, and schools. And in between came clowns, Boy and Girl Scouts carrying banners, parents pulling their children or pets in wagons decorated with crepe paper, convertibles carrying dignitaries.

  Kids from the community center pushed shopping carts along the parade route for people to fill with canned foodstuffs for the food pantry. Liv saw Roseanne Waterbury, but Leo wasn’t there, and she thought how much he would have liked to walk in the parade.

  An Uncle Sam walking on stilts bowed and doffed his top hat to the crowd. Celebration Bay was nothing if not patriotic, and on July Fourth they outdid themselves.

  Every fire engine in the area must have been in attendance, honking their horns to the delight of the children. Liv shuddered to think what would happen if there were a fire somewhere. Would they just pull out of the parade and rush to put it out?

  Ida and Edna, riding on the DAR float, spotted Liv and waved. The flatbed was crowded with people who could trace their ancestors back to the War for Independence. All standing or sitting in front of a giant depiction of the original thirteen states made from crepe-paper flowers. The float stopped in front of the grandstand to be adjudicated by a panel of judges before moving on.

  Next came clowns stuffed into an old VW bug, which stopped every few yards for the clowns to jump out and perform a Chinese fire drill.

  The Garden Club’s “Where Democracy Found Fertile Ground” float followed the clowns and also stopped at the grandstand. Liv thought it looked like Dexter Kent’s nursery had been transferred to the flatbed. The members sat on bales of hay in their patriotic outfits.

  Liv enjoyed it immensely. The only thing she missed was Chaz Bristow making snarky comments.

  She couldn’t imagine where he was or what he was doing, but she could be sure it involved sleeping and fishing… and really, couldn’t he just do that here?

  Someone nudged her.

  “Forget something?” she asked, turning around. But it wasn’t Ted.

  Roseanne Waterbury, who must have finished the march, looked serious and worried.

  “Can I talk to you?” she asked.

  “Sure,” Liv said, wondering what on earth she could need to talk about. “Would you like to come to the office?”

  Roseanne nodded.

  “Fine. When would you like to come?”

  “Now. Please, it’s important.”

  “Of course.”

  They squeezed through the crowd that had bottlenecked around the grandstand and went inside. Whiskey, who had been left inside for the festivities, met them at the door. He saw Roseanne and began dancing at her feet. She crouched down to pet him.

  “Would you like a bottle of water?” Liv asked. “I’m afraid it’s all we have.”

  “No… thank you.” Roseanne bit her lip. She’d matured during the last school year. When Liv first met her, she’d been a tall, skinny girl with cinnamon-colored hair that she usually wore in a long braid down her back. Today her hair was pulled back into a high, messy bun. She was wearing jean shorts and a tight-knit white camisole with blue stars sprinkled across the front. She’d developed a few curves in the last few months.

  “Come on in and sit down.”

  Whiskey led the way into Liv’s office, and when Roseanne sat down, Whiskey sat down beside her chair.

  As soon as Liv pulled up a chair, Roseanne blurted out, “Everybody’s saying Leo killed Mr. Rundle.”

  Taken aback, it took Liv a second to recover. “Everyone?”

  “Well, no. But a bunch of kids were saying it this morning when we were waiting for the parade to begin.”

  And if kids are saying it, that means their parents are, too, thought Liv.

  “And one of the center kids took a punch at one of them and there was a big fight. It isn’t fair. Leo didn’t even get to be in the parade today because Bill Gunnison thought there might be trouble. And there was.”

  “How did you find this out, that Bill said there might be trouble?”

  “We were supposed to pick Leo up to go to the parade this morning. But when Dad got in the truck he said Leo wasn’t going. And when I asked why, he told me that Mr. Gunnison called to say Mr. Rundle had been killed and they’d taken Leo in for questioning.”

  Roseanne’s eyes were dark and intense, and Liv had an uncomfortable feeling she knew where this was going.

  “It’s just for questioning,” Liv ass
ured her. “As a witness.”

  Roseanne shook her head. “You have to help him.”

  “I’m sure Bill is investigating thoroughly.”

  “I know, but you helped my dad when he was accused. He might still be in jail if not for you.”

  Liv shook her head.

  “And everybody knows you’re the one who solved that murder at Christmas.”

  “Rosie, stop right there. I nearly got myself killed at Christmas because I was clueless. And your dad would never have been charged. And Leo won’t be either.” If he’s innocent, she wanted to add, but she didn’t. She also started to say that the sheriff was more concerned about Leo’s safety, but thought better of it. She didn’t want to give any false hope.

  “Please, just come. I told him you’d bring Whiskey. He’s good for when you’re feeling down, aren’t you, boy?” She reached down to scratch Whiskey’s head. “He’s at Pastor Schorr’s and I told him I’d bring you both. Maybe you could talk to him.”

  “Wait, why is he at Pastor Schorr’s? I thought you said he couldn’t come to the parade.”

  “He couldn’t. That’s why you have to come. I called his cell just to cheer him up, and he said someone threw a rock through the window of his house. His mother said she couldn’t keep him there. It was too dangerous for the younger children. She kicked him out. Can you believe that? He didn’t know what to do. So he went to the center but it was closed, so he went to the rectory. Pastor Schorr took him in. He’s there now. Please.”

  “Does Bill know?”

  “I don’t know. Leo’s really scared. Please say you’ll help him.”

  Roseanne looked like she was about to cry. And Liv remembered the fall night when Roseanne showed up at her door having driven her father’s truck into town, though she was only fifteen, just to talk to Liv.

  “Okay. I’ll come with you just to talk to him and let Whiskey work his magic.”

  “Thank you. Whiskey’s good when you’re feeling scared.”

  And isn’t that the truth, Liv thought. Or lonely, or sad, or depressed.

  It was only two blocks to the Presbyterian parsonage. The parade was just wrapping up, and Liv hurried them along the sidewalk before they had to fight the crowds going back to their cars, to restaurants, or to one of the park vendors.