Frosted on the Ferris Wheel

by Laura Pauling

  Holly made sure her mouth dropped open in innocent surprise. “You mean dogs aren’t allowed? I’m so sorry. I’m used to bringing him with me everywhere. I had no idea. And such a mess.” She turned her innocence onto Millicent. “What a beautiful blouse. Let me pay for it.”

  “Stay away from me!” Millicent practically leaped across the table into Trent’s arms. “She tried to kill me.”

  The manager spoke over the chaos. He sounded nervous. “Well, I wouldn’t say that. Dinner’s on the house.” When that didn’t earn a response from Millicent, he added. “And free meals the rest of the summer.”

  “I guess so,” Millicent said.

  The manager turned to Holly, a storm crossing his face, his lips trembling with rage. “And you. Out. Now.”

  Holly plucked Muffins from the mess. “I’m terribly sorry.” Without looking at Trent, not wanting to see his frown and disappointment, she left the restaurant, pride barely intact.

  Later that evening, the dinner hour almost over, Holly strolled down Main Street. After the excitement of Trent and Millicent’s sabotaged date, Holly had left Muffins snoozing on his doggie bed. She didn’t regret her earlier actions; the look of horror on Millicent’s face was priceless, but she felt bad for the manager and the waitress. She felt bad for lowering herself to Millicent’s level—sabotaging a date.

  And finally, she had to admit they were on a date. It hadn’t been her intention when disrupting their dinner, but she’d thought he’d storm after her and chase her down with his sirens wailing.

  But nothing.

  He hadn’t called or texted or shown up, even now, an hour later.

  Holly let out a sigh. Time to call it quits for the night and possibly, maybe, work on that smoothie recipe. She was running out of time.

  At the Fairview Inn and Restaurant, Holly turned to head back to her apartment. A sleek yellow convertible pulled up to the side of the road.

  Joel Atherton and Judy Schilling.

  Holly did a double take.

  Right in front of her was the couple she’d been chasing down all night. And now, after a night of disaster, they just appeared.

  Frozen on the sidewalk, she watched Joel climb from the driver’s seat of his sweet ride and walk over to open the door for Judy. He held out his hand, his smile dashing and debonair. She accepted it with grace, and together, looking like old friends, they headed toward the Inn.

  The promised dinner date. Where Joel would comfort and walk Judy through anything she needed done.

  For some reason their appearance bothered Holly, but she couldn’t figure out why. Of course, they were friends. Their husbands were—or had been—in business together. It made sense that the two people who probably knew him best would console each other.

  Holly didn’t need to think twice. She followed the couple into the Inn and peered beyond the front desk to see that Joel and Judy were led to a seat by the windows overlooking the green and the coming fairgrounds. With a pleasant smile, that showed nothing of the stress and strain of her evening so far, she asked for a window seat.

  The waitress told her it would be a wait.

  Ten minutes passed but it felt like hours. Holly tried not to nibble her nails as Joel and Judy ordered their food and talked. Conversation she was missing! Crucial evidence! Important clues!

  Finally, the hostess called her name. Holly followed the young woman, but instead of heading toward the window seats, near Joel and Judy, the hostess led her to the lone window seat on the other side of the restaurant.

  “Could I possibly sit on the other side? I love watching the fairgrounds in process.” Holly asked as nicely as possibly.

  “It would mean a much longer wait. We do accept reservations...”

  “Ah, I understand. This will be fine.” Holly sat, feeling completely foiled.

  “Your waiter will be with you shortly.”

  Holly held up the menu and peeked over it. Joel and Judy were deep in conversation and she was missing all of it! Holly glanced at the menu and everything made sense when she saw the exorbitant prices. Twenty dollars for a piece of steak? Of course Joel would take a date to the most expensive place in town.

  She tried to lip-read. She tried to read body language and facial expressions. But she was too far away to hear or see much of anything. Nothing looked suspicious.

  The least expensive item on the menu was the garden salad for thirteen dollars. Holly ordered it and waited, thinking of all the juicy information she was missing. Somehow, if Charlene had been there, they’d be sitting right next to Joel and Judy.

  She asked for the bill when her meal was served and then crunched on carrots and lettuce. The size was barely enough for an appetizer. She paid and tipped generously then left. It wasn’t until she was outside that she realized her golden opportunity. The one thing about convertibles is that the top stayed down. The car somewhat vulnerable.

  It had black leather seats, smooth and polished. There wasn’t one piece of trash or a crumb or stain anywhere. They had their wallets and purses with them. Without checking to see if anyone was watching, Holly slid over the car door and sat in the driver’s seat. Like the car was hers.

  Casually, she felt under the seat. Nothing. She leaned over and checked under the passenger’s seat. Nothing. Then, she opened the glove compartment. Only the typical registration and car information. This guy was good.

  As she sat back up, preparing to leave, her head hit the visor. A card fluttered down and landed in her lap.

  A business card.

  Excited and hoping for this fated clue, she read the name on it and slumped with disappointment. It was for the local counseling services associated with the hospital. Nothing unusual after a death.

  Enough. Holly was ready to chalk up this night, this day, as a big failure.

  ***

  It was midnight. Holly sat at her kitchen table and stared at the blender. The strawberry cheesecake smoothie wouldn’t perfect itself. The basic ingredients were in the fridge and freezer: strawberries, cream cheese, sugar, vanilla, milk. But would this be enough? What secret ingredient could she add to give the recipe an extra boost? Almond flavoring? Lemon juice for a zing?

  Worries of the festival and the baking contest plagued her. Would her business survive this next murder mystery? Her ongoing competition with The Tasty Bite lingered at the edge of her thoughts.

  And of course, there was Trent. His date with Millicent. Maybe all her dropped hints had sparks of truth. Maybe Millicent could see—before Holly—that Trent was losing interest. She would know him well enough to see it. And Holly wanted to know what happened at prom that made it so memorable. She shouldn’t care. That was high school. That was history.

  Someone knocked on the door.

  “Yes?” Holly asked. A couple days ago she would’ve assumed it was Trent, but tonight, she knew it wasn’t.

  “Are you going to make me stand out here all night?”

  Holly whipped open the door, excited to see her friend, yet confused at the same time. How had Charlene been spending her time? When would be the right time to ask?

  With a grunt, Charlene forged her way inside and sat at the table. “See you’re working hard.”

  “Hardly. Though that was the plan.”

  Charlene huffed. “I knew that. Don’t you recognize sarcasm when you hear it?”

  Normally, the conversation would flow, especially during a mystery. They would chat about clues, talk about suspects, and be making plans for the next day. But as they took seats at the table, Holly hated the tension-filled silence filled with unspoken thoughts and truths.

  “So what do you think?” Holly asked.

  “About what?”

  Holly wanted to smack her friend with the obvious. Like the murder. Like the fact that the day before, Charlene had been the one to pull her down to the crime scene and give her tech spy glasses. Maybe she’d been poking around in Trent’s office.

  “Any news from Trent?” Holly asked.
r />   “Why?” Charlene raised an eyebrow. “Trouble in paradise?”

  “Well...no.”

  “I knew it,” Charlene complained. “I knew things would be great if you dated my son, but I also knew what would happen when things got rocky. You’d want answers from me. Well, trust me. I’m no Dr. Ruth.”

  “Who?” Holly asked.

  “Dr. Ruth—the sex therapist?” She shook her head. “Never mind.”

  “I asked for news from Trent concerning the current murder investigation. Or have you forgotten?” Holly hated the hint of accusation in her tone of voice.

  “Pfft. Have I forgotten.” Charlene stated it like it was a rhetorical question, the answer obvious.

  Holly stifled a frustrated sigh. She admitted a truth. “My relationship with Trent always gets rocky during an investigation. Conflict of interest.”

  “Maybe you should give up on the investigation, then.”

  What? Holly couldn’t believe those blasphemous words left Charlene’s mouth. Her friend would never suggest backing down from sleuthing for a guy, even if it were her son. She could only sit and stare at Charlene.

  “Depends on much you care about Trent. What you’re willing to let go of. Relationships are all about being flexible. Give and take.”

  “Okay, where is Charlene and what have you done with her?”

  This brought a slight smile. “People change.”

  Yes, people did change, but usually, something happened to trigger a one-eighty turnabout. Holly couldn’t think of a thing. “Are your cats okay?”

  “Yup.”

  “Have you been to the doctor lately?”

  “Yup.” Charlene hesitated, then said, “I’ve been thinking that we should invite Millicent back to book club. She does love mysteries. Her writing might be hopeless but she has a keen eye and she’s resourceful.”

  “Sure thing.” This time it was Holly who resorted to sarcasm. She didn’t know how else to respond to the odd request, so she stood, on automatic, and pulled out supplies to make that smoothie. She softened the cream cheese and sliced it directly into the blender. She added the milk, vanilla, and frozen strawberries.

  Without answering or letting Charlene sing Millicent’s praises anymore, Holly pressed Blend, finding great satisfaction in the grinding noise. There was so much, besides Millicent, she needed to share with Charlene. All the clues were piling up but not adding up. The murder victim purchasing land without telling his wife or business partner was hardly motivation for murder. What about Chip? His threats. And how he didn’t seem to have any connection to the Schillings. The fact Holly had gotten nowhere in the investigation.

  She poured the thick pink smoothie into two glasses and put them on the table. She’d make three more batches if she had the supplies.

  Charlene tasted it and forced a smile. “Needs work.” She wiped the pink mustache from her upper lip. “And, the girls and I agree that since you were the one who brought conflict into the mystery club, which led to Millicent’s dishonorable discharge, that you should be the one to invite her to the next meeting of the secret society.”

  Holly was flabbergasted. Charlene wanted Millicent not only back in the book club but wanted Holly to invite her to the secret meetings where they discussed strategy?

  “I know. It won’t be easy for you.” Charlene stood and pushed the chair back under the table. “I’m sure you’ll find a way.” She walked over to the door. “The next meeting is tomorrow. Noon. At The Tasty Bite, if Millicent will have us.

  Holly’s jaw dropped.

  Charlene shrugged. “Might be a good way to show her we mean it. And that we’re sorry. She’s really not that bad. Maybe you should give her a chance.” Then she left.

  It took several minutes before Holly’s brain would work, the gears slowly turning, trying to comprehend all that Charlene was asking of her. Clearly, Charlene hadn’t been on the receiving end of Millicent’s so-called stunning personality. Oh, that girl had a keen eye, all right. Holly didn’t want to know the extent of her manipulation.

  She tasted the smoothie and almost spit it back out.

  She forgot the sugar.

  The following morning, Holly kept to her daily routine when all she wanted to do was sink into her bed and never leave. She ate breakfast. She walked Muffins at a brisk pace, returned home, and showered.

  Her mother had taught her many things. The biggest lesson was to never let them see you sweat. She stated over and over that when you feel down and discouraged, those are the days when you dress in your brightest clothes and wear the biggest smile. Desperate, Holly was willing to follow that advice today.

  After flipping through the clothes in her closet, she chose a bright pink sundress. It fell at her knees, and when she whirled around, the bottom of the dress fanned out.

  She applied makeup and added a matching pink lipstick. At the door, Muffins whimpered behind her.

  She crouched. “I know, bud. I know you want to be part of the action. But considering last night, I think you’d better stay home or I’ll never get a chance to talk to Millicent.” And there was the fact that Millicent would probably stab her dog with a pen or anything else readily available. “I’ll give you the full report later.”

  Feeling bad but knowing she made the right decision, Holly put on her brave face and walked across the street. She planned to bring coffee to the home of the Fairview News, where Millicent was probably planning her next big scheme to ruin Holly’s reputation.

  Oodles oozed warmth and comfort, the familiar clatter of cups and plates and the friendly chatter. Lindsey, the owner, stood behind the counter. Big hair. Big personality. Big everything. Her blonde hair, slick with gel, poofed from her head. Almost like a Mohawk.

  “Hi, Lindsey.” Holly slid onto a stool at the bar.

  Lindsey placed a hand on her hip and studied Holly. “Hi, yourself. What’ll it be today?”

  “Coffee, please. Hazelnut.” She’d order one to go for Millicent later. Right now, she needed to build up her determination and figure out what to say.

  A man, dressed in suit and tie, left the stool next to her empty and a copy of the Daily News.

  At first, Holly refused to even look at it. Two minutes later, she slid copy in front of her, bracing for the worst.

  From my Heart to Yours

  I’ve lived in this town for a long time. I grew up here. I attended high school. As you know, my father owns the best bakery in town and the only one worth visiting, The Tasty Bite. I’ve seen people come and I’ve seen people leave this town. I’ve covered news stories to entertainment to breaking current events. I’ve done my best to keep my honesty and integrity in everything I write.

  That’s why, dear citizens of Fairview. I come to you today with a heavy heart. In my dealings and investigative reporting, I’ve seen my share of heartache. I’ve seen people make classic mistakes in relationships and social etiquette. I’ve seen people, through poor choices and misguided advice, hurt the people they love, and then lose everything.

  I care about this town too much to let it continue. That’s why with great pleasure, I’m introducing a new column, called, you guessed it. My heart to yours. Send in your questions, dear readers, and let the guru of relationships answer them. A big thank you to the inspiration of this new column. You know who you are.

  My first tip in maintaining a healthy relationship is forgiveness. Take that today and apply it to your life and your loved ones.

  Quietly and with great restraint, Holly slid the paper to the spot next to her. She sipped her coffee and forced herself to take pleasure in the small things: the nutty scent, the comfort of the warmth, and the fact that later she’d buy a copy of the Daily Paper and burn it.

  Lindsey leaned across the bar, taking a break from her work. “Darling, I can see you’re troubled. Now, as owner of this restaurant, I see and hear a lot. I don’t want to know the details. I don’t want to know the truth.” She patted Holly’s arm. “You’re in a tough spot, opening a
new business. That takes courage. That takes spirit. I would know. So keep your head high. Be the better person. And you’ll make it out alright in the end.”

  As Lindsey rushed away to fill orders, Holly appreciated her friend. Be the better person.

  That’s what she had to do.

  ***

  Coffee in-hand, hoping Millicent liked cream and sugar, Holly strolled down Main Street to The Daily News. So many conflicting thoughts, hard thoughts that made no sense whirled through her head. From Charlene’s abrupt turnabout to Millicent’s article filled with subtle slams only Holly would catch, to Lindsey’s advice to be the better person.

  That’s what Holly chose to do.

  She pushed through the glass doors and into the waiting room. Laughter sounded from the hall from Millicent’s office. Seconds later, Millicent exited, followed by a mother and child.

  “This will make a great first article, spotlighting heroic acts in Fairview. Can I take your picture outside?” she asked to the young boy.

  He nodded.

  Millicent cast Holly a suspicious look and went outside with the mother and son. Why was Millicent trying so hard to come across as this loving, good-hearted person? Was it to win Trent back? To earn her spot back in the book club by proving herself? Holly suspected it was both.

  Or maybe she’d truly experienced a change of heart, and Holly had left no room for her to show it.

  Normally, Holly would’ve used this time to wander into Millicent’s office and poke around. But she didn’t have the heart, or the motivation. If Millicent were going to attend the secret club at lunch, then she’d share any information at that time.

  “Why Holly, what a nice surprise. Are you here to talk with me?”

  “Yes, I am.” Head up. Be the better person, Holly reminded herself.

  “Follow me.” Millicent took a seat behind her desk. “It must be about my article this morning. I’ve received emails from readers, responding to my article about relationships. I have enough questions for the next year.”