“A quandary, to be sure. But considering her car was found downtown, she must’ve gone off in someone else’s car.”
“Or someplace within walking distance,” Liv said.
They looked at each other. “Like the Museum of Yankee Horrors.”
Liv moved back to her side of the desk and sat down. “Maybe we should be asking where Barry was all night.”
“I’m sure Bill has. And I’m sure he’ll apprehend the murderer sooner or later.”
“Me, too,” Liv said. “Preferably sooner.”
• • •
But Bill hadn’t found either the murderer or the doomsday man by the next morning. There were too many loose ends, questions, unsolved crimes. And into this mess, Liv had to lead Jon Preston. No wonder she was feeling a little stressed by the time she climbed the steps to town hall the next morning.
It hadn’t helped that as she was reaching for the door, a hand opened it for her, and Chaz Bristow said, “After you.”
Chaz was never up this early, unless he was coming home from an overnight fishing trip—or some other dalliance. And he avoided town hall like the plague.
He smiled at her and ran ahead to open her office door.
Ted’s expression was so bland, Liv immediately suspected a plot.
She eyed both men suspiciously.
Ted stood. “Where’s my favorite dawg today?”
“I’m giving Jonathon Preston a tour of town today, as I’m sure you know. I wasn’t sure what you had on the agenda today, so I thought it would be better to leave him with Ida and Edna.”
“Hmmm.” Ted took their morning drinks and pastries from Liv.
Liv hung her jacket up.
“Well, don’t you look nice this morning,” he said.
Liv gritted her teeth. She was wearing black slacks and a soft gray nubby silk jacket that would fit right in on the streets of Manhattan, but that was perhaps a tad overdressed for the sidewalks of Celebration Bay. She’d even traded her ponytail for a messy bun and added a little extra to her makeup.
Well, of course she’d made a special effort; their grant money depended on it. Besides, she didn’t want Jon to think she’d let herself go just because she’d moved to the . . . the . . . boonies? The country? To one of the most popular destination towns on the east coast. And I’d better not forget it. “Thank you. I try.”
Ted grinned.
Chaz just frowned at her.
“What? You never saw a business suit before?” she said at her driest. “What a silly question. You don’t do business.”
“Ouch,” Chaz said, and he followed uninvited into Liv’s office.
Ted set the breakfast tray on Liv’s desk, and sat in his usual chair.
Chaz pulled up one of the extra chairs they kept for visitors. He sat down next to Ted. “Do you guys eat like this every morning?”
“Would you like some cinnamon swirl bread?” Ted asked.
“God, no. I’ve only had two cups of coffee this morning. Totally not ready for food.”
“Well, I’m not sharing my latte,” Liv said.
“I never drink those girly drinks.”
Liv looked at the ceiling and flipped the top of her latte, before booting up her computer. “Okay, what’s up?”
“Nothing,” Chaz said. “Anything up with you, Ted?”
“Not with me.” Ted bit into a thick slice of cinnamon bread.
Liv looked from one man to the other. Obviously they were either waiting for her to leave so they could talk about something they didn’t want her to know about, or she was imagining things, which was possible since she was short on sleep. Trying to come up with scenarios that would miraculously catch a killer and put him away before Jon picked her up at ten was exhausting.
She opened the file on the zombie parade.
“Have you cleared the parade route with Fred and the traffic committee?” she asked Ted, ignoring Chaz.
“Yes. All vehicular traffic will be rerouted away from the square from five to approximately nine o’clock. The zombies will gather at the post office and walk around the park to gather at the band shell for costume judging.”
“Trampling the grass and flower beds and creating job security for the public works department,” Chaz said.
Liv cut him a look.
He raised his eyebrows.
“Are you going to march in the parade?” she asked conversationally.
“Nah, this zombie’s hired someone to cover it for me and take a few choice photos so a certain event coordinator won’t read my beads until next week over something else.”
“Oh, I’m sure if pressed she could think of something,” Liv said sweetly and turned her attention back to work.
They were still sitting around her desk when Jon came in forty-five minutes later and understanding dawned.
Chaz popped out of his chair with more enthusiasm than Liv had ever seen from him. “Chaz Bristow, editor of the Celebration Bay Clarion.” He pumped Jon’s hand.
“This is Jonathon Preston of the VanderHauw Foundation,” Liv said.
Jon withdrew his hand. Nodded to Ted and looked at Liv. “Shall we go?” he asked, barely suppressing a laugh.
Liv blushed. What the heck was going on? She was missing a whole lot of subtext. Which was probably just as well. Right now she just wanted to get Jon out of the office as quickly as possible.
“Yes.” She reached for her messenger bag and slipped her iPad mini inside.
“Never without her electronics,” Chaz said.
Liv cut him a look that could have sliced bread. Jon turned toward the door. Thank goodness it’s Jon, Liv thought. He had a sense of humor. Some other representatives would not look kindly on Chaz’s attitude.
Jon held the office door for her and she went through without looking back.
They were on the sidewalk before Jon said, “Should I look up and see if they’re watching from the window?”
“Don’t egg them on,” Liv said.
“I’m really having trouble picturing you living and working here. I mean, it’s a lovely town . . .” He stopped by a silver Mercedes and beeped it open, then held the passenger door for Liv. She hesitated, as a thought crossed her mind. She let it pass. Silver Mercedes were pretty common during the town’s busy seasons.
“I’m sure no one else in Celebration Bay locks their car, but I confess to being an uptight New Yorker.”
“That’s perfectly fine,” Liv said. “It took me months before I stopped locking my car, and it isn’t nearly as nice as this.”
She got in; Jon closed the door and went around to get in the driver’s side.
“Now I hardly ever use my car.”
Jon sighed. “Sounds bucolic.” He started the engine and backed out of the parking space. “Where to first?”
“Well, I thought we’d take a look at the current community center. There’s a retirement planning course for seniors this morning. But make a left at the corner and I’ll give you the Cook’s tour of downtown Celebration Bay on our way.”
Jon drove slowly as Liv pointed out the Corner Café: “Delicious home-style Italian.” A Stitch in Time: “The sewing circle stayed up all night to sew a replacement Santa suit for last year’s Santa parade.”
“Newlands Gifts just reopened this past year. An old Celebration Bay family who have been in business for years.” She refrained from telling him they’d almost lost their store the year before.
Bay-Berry Candles, the Bookworm. Buttercup Coffee Exchange.
“Quaint.”
“As good a cup of coffee as you’ll find on the Upper East Side, and run by my best friend in town.”
“Ah,” said Jon, slowing down and glancing at BeBe’s storefront. “I’ll have to make sure to visit it before I leave.”
She didn’t like
to hear him talk about leaving; they had just gotten started. Liv warned herself not to start reading signs in everything that was said.
“The Apple of My Eye Bakery. I know, also quaint, and I guess Dolly Hunnicutt, the proprietress, is quaint, too. People here take their holidays seriously. And Dolly’s pastries could compete anywhere.”
“They certainly have an excellent advocate.” Jon leaned over and looked at the brightly colored bakery. The door opened and Dolly held it while Ruth Benedict carried a stack of pastries out to the sidewalk.
“They must be good,” Jon said.
“Garden Club brunch this morning,” Liv said distractedly.
Ruth saw Liv, but instead of nodding or smiling, her face went slack and she stared as the Mercedes passed on and made the next turn.
“Are we creating a scandal?” Jon asked.
“Good heavens, no. You just witnessed the town’s biggest gossip. Fortunately nobody listens to her.” Much, Liv added to herself.
They continued on their circuit around the square with Liv pointing out the various businesses and churches, while wondering why Ruth had looked so shocked to see her and Jon. The whole town was expecting him; maybe they just hadn’t expected him to be so good-looking, or urbane. Even Ruth would be hard put to conjure a scandal out of a daytime tour of the town.
They left the square and two minutes later were turning into the parking lot of the community center. Liv had wanted to have an organized day at the community for his drop in, all clean and filled with activity. But they didn’t have the funds for that much programming, and besides he would have seen through any subterfuge.
She and Jon were both savvy in the ways of business and entertainment. In the end it wouldn’t matter. If he thought they were a good prospect for the grant money, it would be based on criteria he’d been trained to recognize, not on manipulation by a country event planner, no matter how good her chops were.
“Your community center is in an old body shop?” he asked.
“Yes,” Liv said. “With inadequate heating, no insulation to speak of, and one bathroom that wasn’t great when it was put in. The kids don’t mind so much, but it’s hard on the seniors.
“And unfortunately it’s being sold. Besides, it’s too small to service our entire community. This will be a perfect time to establish a center that caters to the needs of all our citizens.”
Jon pulled to a stop near the pedestrian door of the building. Switched off the ignition and looked at her.
Liv grimaced. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to give you the pitch.”
“Occupational hazard,” Jon said. “I do it myself. Let’s try to avoid it today. You just tell me what you need, and I’ll take it to my people and see if they’re interested.”
With a recommendation—or not, Liv added. But she just nodded and they both got out of the car.
They’d both still be pitching, all right, just with more finesse. When you were negotiating, you could be honest—should be honest—but there was still a certain amount of positioning that went on.
They were both veterans of the game and had just advanced to level two; there would still be positioning, but using more subtle techniques.
A thrill of excitement caught Liv off guard. She’d missed this, and she was enjoying it.
Of course, Jon was good, a challenge, and at one level that would make for a lot of fun. But the outcome was deadly serious. Had already become deadly serious. Someone had died over this fund-raiser.
The whole town was counting on her to make it right.
Jon had turned to look out over the neglected parking lot and whistled. “You’d think a town this successful would have a decent place for seniors and students. Or maybe they didn’t think they needed one?”
“On the contrary. Celebration Bay was a depressed town for several decades. It pulled itself up by its own bootstraps and started this tourist business. But they’re just now getting out of the woods.”
“Thanks to you, I bet. If anybody could pull a whole town up by its bootstraps, as you so quaintly put it, it’s you.”
“Thanks,” Liv said, feeling disproportionately gratified. She’d worked her butt off. “We’re getting there.” And everybody depended on her for their continued success. “It’s a pretty big responsibility.”
“Shall we?” he asked, and opened the door. They stood just inside while Jon slowly took in the circumference of the space. Liv tried to see it through his eyes. It was pretty bleak.
Pastor Schorr had promised to meet them at the center, and as they entered, he came out of the tiny kitchen area with a smile on his face. He immediately took over, guiding Jon through the scratched tables, mismatched folding chairs, and sagging furniture. They paused at the old pool table while the pastor told Jon of his plans for the center.
“A place for all ages, but especially teens and seniors, with programs for young families and accompanying day care while they’re in class.”
Jon nodded as he listened.
They stopped in the back corner of the room, where a space heater cut the chill in the air, and a dozen or so senior citizens were listening to a volunteer CPA guiding them through a PowerPoint explanation of estate planning.
Not that any of these seniors had much in the way of an estate. But they each had something they wanted to leave behind.
After a minute, the three of them moved back to the other side of the room.
“Do you have any questions?” Pastor Schorr asked.
“Not at this time,” Jon said. “You have a very good advocate in Ms. Montgomery.”
“Oh yes, Liv is indefatigable in her work for the people of Celebration Bay.”
Embarrassed, Liv pretended not to hear him. Fortunately the class broke up at that moment, and several of the participants came over to put in their “two cents.”
They spent a few minutes chatting with the seniors. Jon was his charming self. Even though Liv knew this was part of his job, and he’d honed his persona over years of meetings, galas, and openings, she still admired the way he seemed to really take an interest in the people he talked to.
A few minutes later they were back outside.
“Well, Mother Teresa, where to next?”
“I’m not. Pastor Schorr is just very complimentary to everyone.”
“Uh-huh.”
They walked across the street to look at the exterior of Ernie’s Monster Mansion, then got back in the car and drove to Barry’s museum.
A few minutes later they were pulling into the parking area. “This is the winner of the contest, the Museum of Yankee Horrors, and the recipient of Amanda’s ten-thousand-dollar donation. In addition, this year’s proceeds will go toward the community center fund. Actually, several business have promised a portion of their Halloween take.”
“How altruistic,” Jon said. “Insurance?” he asked, stopping at the bottom of the steps to the museum’s porch.
“Town wide, plus individual. That was one of the stipulations of the contest.”
Barry met them on the porch and Liv relaxed a bit as he gave a tour of the museum. Liv was pleased to see that most of the exhibits had been finished and many of the others were close enough to fire the imagination.
Jon seemed interested and in no hurry to end the tour.
“You live in perpetual holiday mode here?”
“Pretty much.” Except when dealing with murder, Liv added to herself.
“I would think that would get cloying pretty quickly.”
“We’re always planning something new or reworking something old. We’re having our First Annual Zombie Parade tomorrow.”
“This I have to see. But why midweek? You could get a lot more people on a weekend.”
“But I’m not sure what kind of people we would get, and how many. My security budget is stretched to the max.”
“The guy with the shaved head, right?”
“Yep. A.K. Pierce. Bayside Security. All of his staff have military experience or I’ll eat my hunting hat.”
“Please tell me you don’t really have a hunting hat.”
“Well, I do. But I drew the line at actual hunting.”
“Thank God for that.”
“Anything else you’d like to see? There’s the abandoned cannery, which will be another project for some day in the future. Great bones, but big.”
“I think I’ve gotten a good overview. What do you say I take another look over your prospectus this afternoon and we discuss this further over dinner at the inn? Say eight?”
Liv quickly ran through her schedule. “Sounds like a plan.”
They chatted on their way back to town hall, where Jon let Liv off. All in all a delightful time; now if he could just get his organization to come up with the grant money, life would be good.
Ted was at his desk when she came into the office.
“How did it go?”
“Good, I think.”
“It didn’t last very long.”
Liv glanced at her watch. “Two hours. We covered the major sights. We’re going to discuss it further over dinner.”
“Ah,” Ted said, cryptically.
“What do you mean, ah? Ah, you see, or ah, it’s what you expected?”
“Both.” He followed her into her office. But instead of sitting down, he stood on the other side of the desk. Placed his hands on the desktop and leaned toward her.
“How well do you know Jonathon Preston?” he asked.
Liv blinked. “Well enough, I suppose. We’ve worked on a couple of fund-raisers together. Well, not exactly together. He was on the money end and I was on the ‘get them all partied up so they’ll feel like donating’ side.”
“So you don’t really know him . . . personally.”
“Not terribly well. We met for drinks a couple of times, mainly work related. I mean fund-raisers can be twenty-four/seven kinds of affairs. You get to know people pretty well. Hang out together.” She hesitated. “Stuff like that. Why?”
Ted shrugged. “No reason.” Then he grinned. “Just want to make sure his intentions are honorable.”
Trick or Deceit Page 20
