In passing Vicky saw that families eating hamburgers and ice cream had taken all benches near the community center. There was also a group in front of the community center’s doors.
A vague suspicion began to form in the back of her mind. Were these people here for the One-Mile Book Market or for the book signing and the additional scavenger hunt to win the tickets to London?
She managed to find a spot for Marge’s car near the harbor and walked back to Main Street where she spotted two deputies directing traffic. Cash himself was talking to an elderly man through the rolled-down window of the man’s car. As she walked by, she could just hear the man saying that his wife walked with a cane and she couldn’t make it from the harbor back into town on foot.
Cash pulled his hat off his head and raked a hand through his curls, his well-known gesture when he was uncertain what to do next. Vicky bet he was torn between his strict policy of ‘a ticket for every violation’ and the inner conviction strictness might not be the way to go right now.
She waited until he was done with the driver and hurried to say, “As you can see, these visitors are spending a lot of money in our town. At the Joneses’, the hardware store, the bakery. And with all the stalls of the book market. Some booksellers have been coming here for years. They need their clientele. If you spoil the good impression of our town with a steep ticket, people might never come back. Or even say nasty things about Glen Cove online.”
Cash sighed again. “I see your point. But next time you organize anything like this,” he groused, “you should also arrange for public transportation from the outskirts of town where people can leave their cars. A nice red double-decker bus or something?”
“Most people must be here for the book market,” Vicky said innocently.
But Cash nodded in the direction of the community center where the diehards were lined up for admittance. “I think they are here for your book signing event.”
Vicky swallowed. He was just putting into words what she feared herself. “Well, then I will ask the PR people to do an announcement, along with the details of the scavenger hunt, to convince people that the next time they come they have to park out at the harbor right away. I will ask them to emphasize there were no tickets given this time around but there might be if people keep ignoring the no parking areas along Main Street. That should prevent a similar problem next week.”
“Next week?” Cash queried suspiciously. “I thought this was a one-time occasion.”
“I understood from Bella the hunt will be on for several days.” Vicky flashed another apologetic smile. “I really had no idea something like this would happen. If I had, I would have come over to the station to talk it over with you in advance.”
“I told you the posters were all over the area.” Michael stood beside Vicky. In a casual short-sleeved shirt his tan stood out even more. On his left arm was an angry reddish mark all the way from his elbow to his wrist.
“What did you do to yourself?” Vicky asked, nodding at his arm.
“Huh? Oh, that.” Michael glanced over it as if he was seeing it for the first time. “Just a little accident while sailing. Nothing serious. Look, you don’t have to wait until three o’clock with opening the doors. Let the people in early and offer them some free drink or something to keep them distracted.”
“Good idea.” Vicky nodded thoughtfully. “We could ask the Joneses to deliver some juice and soda.”
Michael pointed in the direction of the general store. “On my way. You go see if the room inside is ready.”
“I suppose Lisa Coombs is there. I think Ms. Tennings’ friend Agatha was helping too.”
“I’ll come round back with the goods.” Michael winked at her.
“Don’t forget paper cups,” Vicky called after him as he walked away. She didn’t suppose the community center had enough glasses for everyone.
Cash said to her in a low voice, “You didn’t tell him about the murder, did you?”
“Of course not. Just Marge and Ms. Tennings like we agreed on this morning.”
“Good,” Cash said. “I don’t want him involved.”
“But Michael might be able to find out more about this crime the guard accused Bella of.”
“I can find out about that on my own. I bet there will be notes on it somewhere in the phone, computer and other stuff we took from the hotel room he stayed in. Seems the other guards were transferred to and from the party by company van but he had said he’d come by his own means.”
“So they never noticed his absence when they left.”
Cash nodded. “Exactly. I got all that from Deke. I’m doing fine. I’ll wait until Monday with a move on Bella Brookes, provided you stick to your end of the deal. So just keep Danning out of things.”
And he stalked off in the direction of his deputies.
Vicky exhaled slowly. She felt bad keeping Michael out of it, but she needed Cash’s cooperation to protect Bella from hasty accusations. The items found in the guard’s hotel room might offer some new perspective. A solution before Monday morning.
Vicky quickly walked past the church, then around the bell tower to where a yard with cobbled stones led to the back entrance of the community center. The door was locked, and Vicky knocked at it, peeking in to see if anybody was near enough to hear her. Immediately Ms. Tennings popped up and let her in.
“We locked the door to prevent people from sneaking in that way,” Ms. Tennings explained. “Agatha said it would be better. She expected a run for the tickets to London. I was skeptical, but when I count the people out there…”
She checked her watch. “It isn’t even two o’clock yet! A whole hour to go until we start. I wonder what we’re going to do with all of these people.”
“Yes, is Paul… I mean, DuBree, Bella Brookes’ PR man, here already?” Vicky asked. “He will know what to do. He has handled this before.”
“I haven’t seen him yet,” Ms. Tennings said. “There are only locals here. We intended to give people coffee, but with this turnout…”
“Michael is on his way with juice and soda. I’ll wait for him here.” Vicky hovered near the back door.
Through the glass in the door she saw Michael coming, pushing a hand trolley with three cardboard boxes on it. She opened the door for him, and he maneuvered in. “There you go. There is something for everybody in there.”
“And paper cups?”
“Plenty. Better to have some spare ones than run out, right? Where do you want all of this?”
“Follow me.”
Michael said as he piloted the load, “It was so busy in the General Store I could barely get in. Mrs. Jones was on the phone to order new supplies but as it’s a Saturday I don’t see her getting very far. There we are.”
He picked the top box off the trolley, put it on a long table and folded the flaps open.
Ms. Tennings, Agatha and two other elderly ladies helped to take out all the cartons with juice and bottles with soda and fill up the paper cups.
Agatha kept saying it was a pity Bob couldn’t help them as well. “But he can’t leave his Aunt Emma of course with a till full of money and so many strangers around who might get an idea.”
Michael grimaced. “Has nobody figured out yet that the amiable Bob has an ulterior motive for his work here? I bet he wants the store.”
Agatha’s friendly face flushed. “That’s a mean thing to say. Bob is a wonderful young man, kind and attentive. He likes people. And people like him. So you can’t turn us against him.”
Michael raised both hands to ward off her anger. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt any feelings. I just wondered what’s in it for him. A meager salary working his head off at a store where the owners nag at him all day? There are better ways to spend your summer vacation, you know.”
“Bob cares about family. He never knew his father, and his mother died.” Agatha’s voice trembled. “Poor boy. He never had any stability, you know. He was just looking for a place to belong. And he
found it here. With us.”
Michael made a placating gesture again. “I understand. I didn’t know about his parents and all. I’m sorry, OK?”
Agatha raised her chin. “You shouldn’t judge so fast, Mr. Danning. Look for the story behind the first thing you see. As a newspaper man you should know that.”
“Touché,” Michael muttered.
Vicky suppressed a grin. It amused her how soft-spoken Agatha Wells flared up when anybody tried to criticize her dear Bob. She considered him like a grandson and a breath of fresh air in her life.
At two-thirty on the dot they opened the community center’s doors, and people streamed in, talking excitedly and getting their free drinks. Children were playing, and a toddler waddled around, offering his teddy to everyone who wanted a closer look at it.
The excited buzz of voices filled the air.
Vicky spotted her mother with the dogs and her mother’s close friend Marjorie from the B&B. Like a lot of other people present, Marjorie was carrying a bag with books and other purchases from the One-Mile Book Market. The two events really seemed to support one another.
Maybe Vicky could make it into a tradition to ask an author to sign and have a promotional activity coinciding with the book market every year?
If this year’s tryout worked well, she might have authors offering to come out here of their own accord.
A cough resounded behind her back, and as she turned, DuBree was there in another expensive suit, carrying a legal-looking briefcase.
“Where is Bella?” DuBree spat with a frown. He checked his watch. “I sat down and discussed things with her just an hour ago. Now it’s ten minutes to the start of the signing and she isn’t even here yet. I covered the distance faster than she, and she’s in that sports car of hers. Where is she?”
“I have no idea.” Vicky felt a familiar wriggle of nerves in her stomach. Last night as she had seen the guard talking to Cash, and she had noticed his resemblance to the snooping ‘Giverny’ her gut feeling had been right. It had been the same man, and he had been after Bella.
Now her gut feeling told her it was odd, very odd indeed, that someone who collected speeding tickets would be late for an important book signing.
At that moment Marge came in with Lisa Coombs. The assistant was dressed in a dark brown sweater and dark jeans, and also carried a briefcase.
DuBree went for her like a heat-seeking missile. Their arguing voices resounded in the almost empty hallway. Lisa said defensively, “You told Bella you wanted her to make a big entrance. I suppose she is stalling because she wants to make that entrance. She’s just doing what you asked her to.”
Marge made a face at Vicky and whispered, “You tell him, girl.”
Vicky suppressed laughter.
Marge said, “I closed the store and put a card on the door inviting people to come over here for the book signing and scavenger hunt. I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Oh, there is Diane with her daughter. See you later.”
Vicky nodded and walked to the open doors to see how it was outside.
Just as she was hesitating whether to go back in or stay outside to keep an eye out for Bella’s arrival, a mud-splattered pickup halted at the curb, and Bella climbed out. She waved at the man behind the wheel, calling out a quick thanks, and then ran for Vicky.
“I made it!” She gasped for air. “My car broke down, and I had to call a tow truck. As it’s Saturday, it took forever to arrive on the scene. Fortunately this guy passed by on some errand and wanted to take me along. I think he delivers cucumbers to farms. He told me this long story about how his family always had cows but they made a transfer to growing cucumbers and tomatoes. There seems to be more money in that. Phew.”
She rolled back her shoulders. “Now hurry up, inside. We’ve still got a minute to get me behind that table to sign books.”
Vicky was still processing the provided information. “You left your car by the side of the road? It must be worth…”
“Rental.” Bella waved a dismissive hand. “It will be insured. And I have insurance myself. Never mind. Whatever happens to it, it will be good. We must not keep the people waiting.”
Inside Lisa came for Bella at once and handed her a sheet with pertinent information about events. She asked her if she could get her anything to freshen up before she had to go up in front of the people. Bella shook her head. “There’s no time. I’m fine. Let’s get this thing done.”
People whispered as they came in, pointed, then shouted Bella’s name. Cameras flashed, and Bella posed with eager readers armed with stacks of her books. She had a kind word for everybody, and people who had come solely for the competition got a little impatient, asking each other when something about that would be announced.
Paul DuBree got up beside Bella and told people that in order to participate they had to have a copy of Bella’s latest book. As devoted fans they of course had it already, but in case they did not, they could purchase it now.
Vicky saw that Lisa Coombs had come in almost unnoticed with several boxes of books on a small pushcart and people ran forward to buy and ensure their chance to participate in the scavenger hunt.
Bella said something to Paul at his ear. Vicky had the impression she was angry, and he tried to hush her without much effect.
Bella resumed signing books with a smile, but the look in her eyes as she glanced at Paul was murderous. Vicky wondered why Bella had hired a PR person with whom she obviously had a strained relationship.
But to be honest, Vicky didn’t know how much influence an author had over her own decisions. Maybe the bigger your fame got, the less about your life and career you yourself could control?
The signing went well, apart from a few people complaining about the delay. At last Paul DuBree took out his briefcase and held it up. “In this briefcase I have the rules and regulations for participation in the scavenger hunt. You can all get a sheet with the rules and a form to enter. You hand in the entry form with your personal information here.”
He pointed at Lisa. “We will then give the official first clue.”
People pushed forward to get the sheets. Not everybody had a pen on them, and there was a scramble to get the pens that Ms. Tennings produced from the back office of the community center. People mumbled and grumbled about the information asked for, and others complained about the rules. But Paul DuBree said that participation implied agreement to everything, so…take it or leave it.
Vicky didn’t see anybody leave. After Lisa had accepted all entry forms and put them in her own briefcase, Paul DuBree explained that everybody who had entered would receive a message by email with a link to a site where they could enter their resolution for the first clue. Those who gave the right answer would continue in the hunt, those who entered a wrong answer would be notified they were out of the competition. “Now Bella Brookes will give the first clue.”
Bella rose and smiled at the eager crowd. “I’m so happy you are all here to participate. And that you are all such big fans of my books. Normally my books are set in the UK, of course, but for this special occasion our murder took place right here in Glen Cove.”
Vicky winced as the words sounded a bit odd under the circumstances.
Bella continued, “So clues and riddles provided are connected with the town’s history and layout. I trust you are all familiar with it or will find ways to dig up the facts you need.”
The audience hung on to her every word.
Bella said, “You all know that in an investigation a police officer or a private detective can follow up several leads. In advance you can’t know what leads will prove valuable and which will not. So you have to make a choice and go with your gut feeling. Now we’re going to do the same thing. You will receive a scenario on paper and four descriptions of possible leads you can go after. You have to choose two to pursue and enter your choice via the site. You will receive an email with information related to the leads you have chosen and then you can again choose to pursue the le
ads in a certain way. It’s just like a multiple-choice quiz. The answers will take you to a suspect who will then be your source of information for the next phase that will start on Monday. Lots of luck to all of you as you push on. Here are the sheets.”
They were passed around quickly, and everybody was reading, oohing and aahing.
People were leaving right away as if time was of the essence. There were empty paper cups left everywhere, and the floor was splattered in places with drinks spilled by kids.
Agatha made a gesture as of handling a broom or mop and disappeared, apparently to get some.
In the now suddenly quiet room Bella turned to Vicky. “I like this twist. They did it better than they did the other time. Then it was the same thing all along, clues and riddles with a single answer. People got tired of it and even bowed out, because they lost interest. This is much better.”
She glanced over the scenario on the sheet in her hand. Then her eyes widened. “Oh, dear… This could be painful.”
“What are you talking about?” Vicky leaned closer.
“Well, I haven’t been involved in the creation of the scavenger hunt. Paul and his team did it all. I only get the information from them on a…” Bella smiled cynically “…need to know basis. But this is rather disturbing in view of what you mentioned to me this morning.”
Vicky accepted the sheet and read.
It described a situation much like a Bella Brookes cozy where a company of tourists visiting Maine attends a play at the Glen Cove community center one night and an actor turns up murdered in his dressing room. The possible suspects are: the actor’s wife who suspected him of betraying her with the female lead in the play, another actor who coveted the lead part, the director of the play who wanted to get rid of the actor because of his frequent bad behavior toward the press and…
The cozy mystery author on whose book the play was based.
She was unhappy with the actor’s free exchange of his own impromptu texts for the lines that were in the actual play and with his rude behavior when she had addressed the actor about it.
Grand Prize: Murder! Page 8