by Thea Cambert
Just then, Michael jogged up. “I came to help you with your afternoon deliveries,” he said, grinning at Owen.
“Oh, thank heaven,” said Owen. “It’s been so boring without you!”
“What’s in the box?” asked Michael, looking down at Owen’s Picnic Patty’s lunch, which he hadn’t gotten around to eating yet.
“Lunch,” said Owen. “Want half a caprese sandwich on rosemary focaccia? Oh—and half a GHB from Picnic Patty’s?”
“You got a Giant Honkin’ Brownie? Absolutely, I’ll split that with you!”
Owen opened the box and handed Michael half the brownie—a thick, chocolatey brick of a brownie.
“Any news on the case?” asked Michael, taking a big bite. “News travels slowly out to the Lodge.”
“I’ll fill you in on our way to our first stop,” said Owen. He gave Alice and Franny a salute. “Call us if anything interesting happens.”
“You do the same,” said Alice. “And we’ll see you tonight at the dance!”
Chapter 11
Blue Valley’s all-time favorite local band, the Gothic Trolls—best known for their music at the annual medieval faire—were just getting warmed up when Alice and Luke stepped out onto Main Street.
“Did I mention how beautiful you look tonight?” asked Luke, taking Alice’s hand.
“It’s possible you’re biased because you love me,” said Alice with a smile.
“Nope.” Luke reached up and tucked a stray red curl behind Alice’s ear. “I thought you were beautiful the first time I saw you, and I didn’t even know you then.”
“That was right over there,” said Alice, pointing across the street to the place where she and Luke had first—literally—run into each other.
Luke chuckled at the memory. “When I knocked you down.”
“No, I was entirely at fault. I ran right into you.”
Luke kissed her hand. “I’m glad you did.”
“Alice! Luke! Over here!” called Owen, who was standing next to a long table covered with desserts.
“Wow.” Alice looked at the array of tiny decorated cakes, shimmering truffles, and cookies in the shapes of x’s and o’s, all centered around a giant, multi-tiered chocolate fondue fountain. There were bowls of everything from pretzel sticks to cubes of pound cake to fresh fruit set out to dip into the glistening, warm river of fudgy goodness. “Did you two do all of this?” Alice looked at Owen and Faith Lindor, who owned Crumpets bakery down the street. The two of them had been in charge of planning the dessert table for the evening’s dance.
“We had a little help from Sugar Buzz,” said Owen, pointing toward Doug and Barb Blake, who were standing nearby visiting with Virginia and Marge. “They brought out this awesome chocolate fountain.”
“Smells like heaven!” said Franny, walking up with Ben.
“You look gorgeous, Franny,” said Alice, admiring Franny’s sea blue dress which set off her blue eyes.
“So do you!” said Franny. “Are you feeling better?”
“Much,” said Alice. “I might’ve had a little brush with that stomach flu, but it seems to have passed.” She grabbed a skewer and stabbed it into a square of cake, then let the melted chocolate drip down over it. She put the whole bite into her mouth and smiled. “So good.”
Just then, Dante Johansen, lead singer of the Gothic Trolls, announced that the band would be kicking off their first set with a new song they’d recently composed: The Ballad of Hilda the Troll of Norn.
“Good old Hilda,” said Owen, linking arms with Michael, who had just arrived and was looking very dapper in his denim shirt and tweed blazer.
“Ready to cut a rug?” he asked the group.
“Absolutely,” said Franny. “Theo’s with my parents for the next few hours, so Ben and I are footloose and fancy-free.”
Just then, Luke’s phone rang, and when he stepped aside to take the call, everyone waited. When he returned, they all looked at him expectantly, hoping for news.
“Okay, okay,” he said. “None of this is classified information, so I’ll tell you. That was Doc. Good news—Martin is doing better. He still has a bit of a fever and he’s chilled, but he seems to be on the mend. Doc thinks he has the stomach bug, but he’s going to be running a few tests, just to be sure there’s no poison involved.”
“Wonderful!” said Franny.
“I’ll go check on him first thing tomorrow,” said Owen. “I’ll take him the latest issue of Birders’ Paradise to cheer him up.”
“But now for the bad news,” said Luke.
“Norman?” asked Alice, suddenly feeling sick again.
“Now don’t worry—Norman is going to be okay,” said Luke. “But it’s confirmed—he was poisoned.”
Alice grabbed Luke’s arm. “The same poison as Stanley?”
“We don’t know the answer to that question yet,” said Luke.
“Did he inhale it? Ingest it?” asked Ben.
“They’re not certain yet,” said Luke. “And it’s no good to speculate. But it doesn’t appear to be cyanide.”
“Which was what Stanley inhaled,” said Owen.
“Right,” said Luke.
“So there’s no way to positively connect the two incidents—Norman and Stanley getting poisoned,” said Ben.
“Not yet,” said Luke.
“But if my hunch is right, those flowers were intended for Norman,” said Alice. “Maybe the culprit tried to get Norman with the flowers, and when that didn’t work, tried a second time with a different poison.”
“If that’s true,” said Owen, “all we need to do is figure out who would want to kill Norman.”
“Only problem is,” said Michael, “everyone loves Norman.”
“Well, someone clearly doesn’t,” said Owen.
“Let’s ask Pearl Ann,” said Alice, pointing across the street where Pearl Ann was just unlocking the door to the Blue Beauty Spa and going inside. “She must’ve just gotten back from the hospital.”
“Fine, but this is an official police investigation,” said Ben. “You’ll have to let us do the talking.”
“Fair enough,” said Alice. “But we want to hear what Pearl Ann says.”
Ben looked at Luke, who gave a small nod. “If you happen to be checking on Pearl Ann while we’re talking to her, so be it.”
“Okay,” Ben said. “We’ll ask questions first, dance later.”
Everyone agreed and walked across the street to the spa.
“Pearl Ann? Can we come in?” Luke called, sticking his head inside.
Pearl Ann appeared from the back room and waved them inside. “Of course you can. Come on in.”
Alice, Franny, and Owen immediately rushed up to their friend, asking if she was okay and whether she needed anything.
“No,” she assured them. “Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t cure. I wish it was that simple for my poor Norman.”
“We just heard,” said Alice, drawing a stern look from her brother. “Oh. Sorry. Ben and Luke have a question for you.”
Pearl Ann nodded and turned to Ben and Luke. “Of course,” she said. “Ask away. I’m exhausted, but I’ll do my best to answer.”
“Of course you’re exhausted!” said Owen. “I mean, between Norman getting poisoned and going to the hospital—you must be beside yourself!”
“And wondering who on earth would want to harm Norman!” added Franny.
“You three!” said Ben, stepping in front of Franny. “You were supposed to let us do the talking. Remember?”
“Oh. Right,” said Alice.
“Sorry,” said Owen.
“The words just spilled out accidentally,” whispered Franny from around Ben’s shoulder.
Luke sighed, then cleared his throat. “Pearl Ann, do you have any idea if there’s anyone—anyone you can think of—who might want to harm Norman?”
Pearl Ann surprised them all with her answer. “Absolutely yes!”
“What? Who?” asked Owen, stepping forw
ard. Then he glanced at Ben and Luke. “Oh. Sorry!”
“Who?” asked Ben, taking out his ever-present notepad.
“Carlotta Taylor.”
“Carlotta—the lady who volunteers at the library? That Carlotta Taylor?” asked Alice.
“That ninny hired Odd Job Bob to do some work at her house last week. While Norman was there, she approached him about a renovation she’s been itching to do. She wants to add a movie theater and media room to her house.”
“Doesn’t she live in that gorgeous historic house on Phlox Street?” asked Owen.
“Yep,” said Pearl Ann. “But remember, historic equals old. That place has been updated and modified who knows how many times through the decades. And the minute Norman started cutting into the wall, he found asbestos. I mean, it was in the walls, in the pipes, in the insulation.” Pearl Ann scoffed. “Carlotta should’ve thanked Norman for finding it, but instead, she was furious.”
“Why?” asked Luke.
“Because it costs a fortune to remove asbestos,” said Alice.
“That’s right,” said Pearl Ann. “And only certified contractors can do it. Carlotta asked Norman to close up the wall and forget the whole thing, but of course, he can’t do that. He’s obligated to report it. He’s required to!”
“So Carlotta was furious,” said Franny, nodding in understanding.
“If you want the truth, that woman has always had a little crush on Norman. And now, she’s got a big mess, a load of expense, and Norman can’t even do her renovation because he’s not state-certified for that kind of thing. But that asbestos is dangerous stuff—and in Carlotta’s house, it’s all cracked and crumbling. Something has to be done for Carlotta’s safety, not to mention the safety of anyone else who comes into her home.” Pearl Ann shook her head. “She got so mad she said she’d ruin Norman. Angry as a cat!”
When they left the spa, thanking Pearl Ann and wishing her a good night’s sleep, they all walked back across Main Street—which was crowded with dancers by then.
“Sounds like Carlotta wanted to teach Norman a lesson,” said Owen.
Alice nodded. “But I wonder how far she’d go to do it.”
“And crumbling asbestos . . .” Luke sighed. “It’s toxic.”
Chapter 12
After oversleeping, then rushing downstairs and checking on things in the bookstore, Alice left The Paper Owl in the capable hands of her assistant, Lacie Blake, and headed out to Main Street to oversee the big event of the morning: the decorating of the world’s largest conversation heart.
“Where have you been?” asked Owen when Alice hurried up. “You look . . .”
“Sleepy,” said Franny, picking up the teething ring Theo had just tossed out of his stroller and wiping it off. “You need coffee.”
“Tell me about it,” said Alice, rolling her eyes. “I never oversleep!” She gratefully took the cup of coffee Franny offered and took a sip. “I tossed and turned all night, worried about Dad and Norman and Stanley and Watson.” She shook her head and looked at her friends. “Do we have another killer in our midst in our little town?”
“Well thankfully, no one’s dead yet,” said Owen.
“Wait a second,” said Alice, looking at Owen. “Why are you not wearing your Cupid costume? Shouldn’t you be making the last of the love note deliveries this morning?”
Owen smiled. “Zack Spears agreed to take the job. My days as the winged son of Venus are over.”
“That Zack is a good kid,” said Franny.
Zack was the longtime boyfriend of Lacie Blake. The two were home for the summer from their nearby college, which suited Alice, since Lacie always worked at The Paper Owl when she was home.
“He’s not really a kid anymore,” said Owen. “He’s in his early twenties. And he’s not that good. I paid him fifty bucks. Virginia gave him the last batch of love notes and he’s on his merry way as we speak.”
“Good,” said Franny. “Now you can hang out with us all day.”
“And it’s going to be a fun one,” said Alice, patting her trusty red binder. “Lots going on.”
“Like this,” said Owen, pointing at the huge candy heart that had been set out on a grouping of large tables. “I thought conversation hearts were for Valentine’s Day.”
“They are, technically,” said Alice. “But I was trying to come up with original ideas. Glad I put Helen and her crew from the library in charge of this.”
Helen Hart, director of the Blue Valley Public Library, was overseeing the vote on what the giant conversation heart should say—and then she, along with her able-bodied assistants, library clerks Katie and Ann, would be painting the winning words on the heart.
“Did you vote yet?” asked Alice.
“Not yet,” said Owen.
They all walked to the ballot table and cast their votes.
When they’d stepped away, Alice asked, “What phrase did you vote for?”
“4Ever,” said Owen. “It’s the classic choice.”
“What? I voted for Cutie Pie,” said Franny, picking up Theo and giving him a kiss on the head.
“I picked Sweet Heart,” said Alice, yawning.
“I can see why you’re yawning,” said Owen. “That’s a boring choice. Sweet Heart? Really?” He looked at the giant piece of candy. “I mean, it is a sweet heart, though.”
“How big is this thing anyway?” asked Franny.
“Fifteen feet across. Twenty feet tall,” said Alice. “The folks at Sugar Buzz helped make it. I still can’t believe they managed this.”
“Look—Carlotta Taylor’s here,” said Owen in a loud whisper.
“Makes sense,” said Alice. “Helen got a lot of the library volunteers to come out.”
“Let’s go try to talk to her,” said Owen. “Maybe we can feel her out about Norman and the whole asbestos debacle.”
“Good idea,” said Franny. “But how will we get her to open up about her issue with Odd Job Bob?”
Alice thought for a moment. “Oh! I have an idea.” She led them over to where Carlotta was standing, helping collect votes for the conversation heart words. They stood by casually for a moment before Alice pretended she was just noticing Carlotta’s presence. “Hi, Carlotta,” she said with a surprised smile.
“Hi Alice,” said Carlotta. She nodded at the heart. “This has got to be one of your craziest ideas. But I like it.”
“Thanks! It’s great to see so many of the library staff and volunteers here.” Alice paused. “I hear the new children’s room renovation is going really well.”
“Oh yes, it’s going to be beautiful,” said Carlotta, lighting up. “There will be these huge wooden trees all around the room, with leaves hanging down, so the room looks like a big forest. And there will be murals of forest animals and plants on the walls. The children are going to love it!”
“Sounds amazing.” Alice cleared her throat. “Renovation can be a real challenge. I, um, sometimes think of updating a few things at the bookshop. I’m thinking of hiring Norman McKenzie . . . you know, Odd Job Bob?”
At these words, Carlotta’s face changed drastically. The smile was gone, and it was as though a storm cloud passed over her face. “I know all about Odd Job Bob, yes.”
“Oh, that’s right. Didn’t I hear you’d hired Norman to do some work at your house? Would you recommend him?”
“I wouldn’t recommend him to hammer a nail into a board—much less renovate anything!” Carlotta’s face was now turning red. “That man . . . is . . . Oh never mind!”
“Wow. I didn’t realize,” said Alice. “Did you hear he’s in the hospital?”
Carlotta froze, but she didn’t speak right away. “Is he?” she finally asked. She clenched her jaw. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Carlotta, can you bring that ballot box over here?” Helen called from the main table. “It’s time to tally the votes and get this heart painted!”
The crowd cheered, and Carlotta stomped off toward Helen without say
ing goodbye to Alice.
“Wow,” said Owen. “Let’s see: Do we really believe Carlotta is sorry Norman’s sick? Uh, nope.”
“Agreed,” said Franny. “She clearly hasn’t gotten over the whole asbestos fiasco.”
“Mad enough to kill him, though, do you think?” asked Alice, still watching Carlotta.
“Maybe not. But mad enough to try to make him sick,” said Owen.
Alice glanced at her watch. “I need to go check on our afternoon workshop leaders. Barb, Marge, and Virginia are all hosting. We can ask them if they’ve seen Carlotta around the Community Center. Maybe she’s the anonymous note-sender. Come on.”
They hurried down to Trillium Street, where the three special All’s Fair in Love Fair workshops were getting set up for their afternoon event. Virginia would be leading a class on the romance of edible flowers. Barb and Doug were teaching a workshop called Chocolate-Dipped Fun. And Marge, with the help of Koi Butler, would be teaching participants how to make their own candles at home.
“Hello everyone,” said Alice, opening her red binder to check her list. “Is everything almost set for this afternoon? Do you need anything?”
“I could use another tablecloth,” said Barb.
“No problem. I’ll give the Community Center a call and send a runner over here with one.”
“Alice, you’ve got the fair and festival planning down to a science!” said Marge. “This thing’s running like clockwork. And just look at all the visitors it brought to town. What a great way to kick off the summer season.”
“So far, so good,” said Alice.
“I’m headed back to my farm,” said Virginia, taking out her car keys. “I need to collect more flowers. My signup sheet is just about full!”
“She’s got the most glorious late-blooming azaleas,” said Marge.
“Thanks to her bees,” added Barb.
Alice turned to Virginia. “How wonderful. I didn’t know you were a beekeeper on top of everything else.”
“She’s even learning how to harvest the honey!” said Marge.
“Oh, wow,” said Alice. “Is that the honey you use in your house dressing? It’s amazing.” Alice felt her stomach growl just thinking about a giant salad with Virginia’s homemade dressing and crackers.