by Maria Geraci
“This is a disaster,” Doreen said. “It’s like someone or something is against us.”
Someone was against them, all right. Two someones as a matter of fact. Only Mimi couldn’t prove that Bruce and Doug had conspired to make her look bad. Plus, there was her own involvement to be considered. She wondered if Bettina knew the check Doug had promised her had fallen through. If she did, she wasn’t letting on in any way that Mimi could see.
“I say we relax and not get too worked up yet,” Viola said. “It’s only ten in the morning and this is Florida, which means the rain will more than likely blow over by this afternoon and all will be well.”
“True,” Doreen said.
They all turned to look at Bettina. “Viola’s right. The rain is definitely going to let up.”
“I agree!” Sherry said.
“Yes! I agree as well,” Wendy added hastily.
Good grief. It was the Pollyanna brigade at work.
They all set their watches to meet back up in two hours, then scattered to the ends of the festival to take care of their respective responsibilities.
Mimi was on her way to make another phone call to Harry Tuba to ask him to reconsider performing tonight (yes, she had no pride left whatsoever), when she ran into Zeke. Normally, he would have participated in this morning’s run, but he was part of the pro-bono security team, for which Mimi was grateful. She’d only seen him once since that night she’d gone to the cabin. He’d come over to pick up Cameron for a game and had been chillingly polite. It had taken everything Mimi had to not throw herself in his arms.
Today he seemed all business. Dressed in his police uniform and looking every inch the cop. He smiled at everyone he came across and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he hadn’t a care in the world.
“Hey,” he said. “How’s everything going?”
By everything, she knew he meant the festival. “All right.”
He frowned. “What’s wrong?”
The temptation to tell him exactly what was wrong was overwhelming. But there was nothing Zeke could do about the band. If she told him now he would only get angry at Doug and think she was foolish. He’d find out tonight, along with the rest of the town, what a loser she was.
“Nothing,” she said.
“Well, if it isn’t Whispering Bay’s number one power couple,” came an unwelcome voice from behind. Mimi whipped around to find Doug grinning (or rather sneering) at them. Zeke hadn’t trusted Doug from the start. Why hadn’t she listened to him?
“Wentworth,” Zeke said tightly.
“Wow. This weather sure is something. I really hope it doesn’t interfere with the concert tonight,” Doug said.
He sounded innocent enough, but Mimi knew better. Good thing she didn’t have a weapon handy…
“The rain will probably blow over by this afternoon,” Zeke said. “After all, this is Florida.”
“So true!” Doug said with false cheerfulness. “I know I’m looking forward to hearing Fatback Bubba tonight.” He turned to Mimi. “How about you?”
Mimi grit her teeth. “Of course. Isn’t everyone?”
Zeke waited till Doug walked away to mutter under his breath. “What a dick.”
“Yeah.”
He snapped his head around to look at her. “I thought you liked the guy.”
Mimi didn’t trust herself to say anything without raising Zeke’s suspicions, so she just shrugged. She wanted to stay to talk to him but she really needed to make that call to Harry Tuba.
“I need to go check on something,” she said. “And in case I haven’t already said this a thousand times, thanks for all your help. The department has been great, volunteering and all.”
“Sure.” She sensed that he wanted to say something else, but held back.
As luck would have it, by mid-morning, the rain had tamped down to a light drizzle (damn it) and a couple of hours later the sun came out full force.
Cameron was walking the festival grounds with Henry, both of them with their dogs in tow. Henry’s little dachshund-Chihuahua mix, Hector, and Toby were semi-friends (except when one of them tried to sniff the other one’s butt, then the sparks began to fly).
Even Claire was at the festival. Since their “talk” the other night, their relationship had reverted back to their awkward mother-daughter exchanges of before. Not that Mimi regretted confronting Claire. Momma was right. Her only regret would have been if she’d played ostrich and buried her head in the ground. Eventually, Claire would come around. Or at least, Mimi hoped she would.
The booths were all doing slow but steady business, and the entertainment stage had dried out enough that it was now currently besieged by a bevy of little tappers and little ballerinas. Everyone kept stopping her to congratulate her on what a success the whole thing was. Too bad it was all going to explode in her face. Luckily (ha!) Harry Tuba took pity on her. That, and the promise of a two-thousand dollar check had convinced him to “swallow his pride” and perform tonight. It was better than nothing, she supposed. At least the Gray Flamingos liked Harry Tuba. Most of them, anyway.
At four p.m., the committee met for one last time before the scheduled concert.
“I told you this weather would clear up!” Viola said.
Wendy pulled out her planner. “So, I have the volunteers ready to rope off the big grassy area in front of the stage. I figure it will hold around five hundred people. That’s five hundred tickets at twenty-five dollars a pop, which ensures we’ll break even with the band. And maybe we can fit even more.” Her eyes twinkled. “I have a big surprise, too! I managed to get that sweet Rusty and a couple of other police officers to go to a rental place in Destin to get one of those portable dance floors.”
“That’s brilliant!” Bettina squealed. Tofu barked in agreement.
“I know it wasn’t in our budget, and it was crazy expensive to get on such short notice, but when the sun came out I took it as a sign and I just had to do it. So I put it on my credit card.”
“You shouldn’t have,” Mimi said, trying her hardest not to faint.
“Oh, don’t worry! I know the festival committee will pay me back. Every single person I’ve run into today says they can’t wait to hear Fatback Bubba. Did you know they’re going on tour with Billy Brenton? That’s how good they are! The ticket sales will cover the band and the food and drink booths are going to make a killing, which means, we’ll make a killing. This festival is going to do go down in Whispering Bay history!”
It was going to go down in history, all right.
Everyone began talking at once. All happy and excited. Mimi should confess this instant. Except, if she did, then everyone on the committee would be forced to keep her secret. Announcing right now that Fatback Bubba and the Rattlesnakes would be replaced by Harry Tuba would be the kiss of death. The festival would fizzle faster than a wet firecracker and all those vendors and businesses would be out a few hours’ worth of revenue, which could make the difference between turning a profit or not.
No. She’d have to wait till just before they were scheduled to start selling tickets to make the announcement. Of course, no one would pay twenty-five bucks to see Harry Tuba, so they’d have to let everyone in for free. Maybe the festival would clear enough from the refreshment booths for the two grand she’d promised him. If not, then she was going to have to pay him out of her own pocket. Wouldn’t Zeke just love that?
*~*~*
Zeke took a good look at the backstage area to make sure everything was secure for the concert tonight. Electrical outlets had been brought in for the band’s equipment and there was a small trailer to the left where they could hang out until they went on stage. He supposed the band would bring their own people for set up. His job was strictly to make sure everyone stayed on their best behavior. So far, the festival had been going smoothly. Mimi had done a great job and he was proud of her.
He could see how stressed out she was, though. In just a few more hours the festival would be
over and that particular load would be lifted. But there was still the wedding, and all the worrying she was doing over Claire to get through. He hadn’t exactly done anything to help matters. Not when he’d been a total dick to her that night at the cabin. She’d asked him to come back home and he’d thrown it in her face. What was wrong with him? Mimi was right. He’d never dealt with Sam Grant’s desertion. It was like a sore that had never healed and was now infecting the rest of his life.
He went to the ticket booth and talked to the volunteer in charge. Tickets were going to be sold on a strictly cash basis, which made it a security risk for sure. Zeke had arranged for Rusty to be present in the booth at all times. He wasn’t too worried, though. In the history of the festival the worst thing that had ever happened was a traffic jam or a drunk or two having to be escorted off the festival grounds. But it only made sense to be careful.
Allie and Tom were eating turkey legs and checking out the arts and crafts booths. “Can you believe that by this time next week I’m going to be Mrs. Tom Donalan?” she gushed. She reached up and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
“It can’t be too soon for me,” Donalan said, in an obvious ploy to score points with Allie. The guy was unbelievable. Still. His sister did look happy. As long as she stayed that way, then Zeke wouldn’t have a problem with the guy. Maybe Mimi was right and Zeke should reach out. Try to be friends.
“Let’s grab a beer this week,” Zeke said to Tom.
“I’d like that.”
Zeke nodded. “I’ll give you a call.”
“Aw,” Allie said, linking an arm around both men so that she was in between them. “My two favorite guys in the whole world are making a date. Isn’t that sweet?”
Zeke ruffled her hair, making her squeak. “Don’t be a wiseacre.”
She laughed and took off to look at napkins or doilies or something like that. The good natured way Tom followed her scored him another point in Zeke’s book.
Zeke paused a moment to watch his sister as she weaved in and out of the booths. Allie had a big heart. If she found out Sam Grant was trying to contact her and that Zeke had known all along, she would not be happy with him. But the real kicker was this half-sibling thing. Mimi was right. Allie would want to know about that. Maybe after the wedding, or better yet, after she and Tom came back from their honeymoon, he’d approach her on the subject. See what she thought.
He’d tell Mimi his decision right after the festival. Which meant he was going home with his wife tonight.
“What are you so happy about?” someone yelled at him. He spotted Pilar Diaz-Rothman and Kitty Burke over by one of the food booths. They were eating corn dogs, which reminded him he hadn’t had lunch today. It was almost dinnertime. He should find Mimi and see if she could take a break to get a quick bite to eat.
“Ladies,” Zeke said, jogging over to them. “What’s not to be happy about?” He glanced around the festival grounds. Every inch of downtown Whispering Bay was packed. “Everything seems to be going great, doesn’t it?”
“You don’t know, do you?” Pilar said in a low voice.
“Know what?”
Kitty and Pilar exchanged a look. “We promised we wouldn’t tell, but Mimi’s about to be in big trouble,” Kitty said. “Fatback Bubba isn’t going to show up tonight.”
Zeke felt his jaw clench. “Tell me everything you know.”
Zeke got the address of Fatback Bubba’s studio from a friend on the Panama City police force. He used his siren the whole drive over. Not exactly ethical, but fuck ethics. Mimi was about to be lynched in front of the whole town, and if Kitty and Pilar got the story right, Doug Wentworth and Bruce Bailey had their slimy fingerprints all over the scheme. He’d deal with them later.
He pulled into the studio parking lot. He didn’t bother knocking on the door. The place was in the process of some kind of turnover. Cardboard boxes littered the floor, making it impossible to strike a clear path. Male voices, lots of them from the sound of it, drifted from a backroom.
A bald guy, early thirties, neck tattoo, approximately six foot tall and one hundred and ninety pounds (no other distinguishing marks), walked out of the room. He looked surprised to see a cop.
“Officer, what can I do for you?”
“I need to see whoever’s in charge of the band called Fatback Bubba and the Rattlesnakes.”
He swallowed hard. “Is there some kind of problem? Because I know the boys can get a little rowdy from time to time but I promise you, they haven’t done anything to warrant a visit from the police.”
“Who are you?”
The man extended his hand. Zeke hesitated just long enough before he shook it to make him sweat a little. “Keith Calloway. I’m the manager for the band.”
Ah. So this was the fucker who winked at Mimi after telling her he was keeping the deposit. It was too bad Zeke was short on time, otherwise he’d teach the guy (in a non-violent way, of course) how to properly talk to his wife.
“Zeke Grant, chief of police for Whispering Bay.” At the last name, Calloway’s eyes flickered in recognition. Yeah. Now you’re gonna deal with me, buddy. “I believe my wife came to see you the other day.”
“Listen, man, I know she was probably upset, but my hands are tied. A contract is a contract. Not much I can do about that.”
Laughter spilled from the back room, making both of them turn their heads toward the sound.
“Who’s back there?” he asked in his best what-the-fuck’s-going-on police voice. He wasn’t here in an official capacity. Calloway could tell him to get the hell out and Zeke would have no recourse but to do what the prick said. But there was no harm in using a little friendly intimidation here.
“It’s just the boys doing some celebrating. Last night they opened for Billy Brenton in Tallahassee. We’re gettin’ ready to hit the road tomorrow morning to go on a national tour with the guy. It’s our big break.”
“Congratulations,” Zeke said. “So, they’re free tonight?”
Calloway immediately saw his error. “Technically, yes, but we got a whole lot of packing to do before tomorrow.”
Zeke made a show of slowly perusing all the sealed up cardboard boxes. “What’s in all these boxes?”
“Just a bunch of promotional stuff. And some personal stuff, too.”
“Musical equipment?”
“Ah, hell no. We wouldn’t box that. That goes in the tour bus with the boys.”
“I see. So, technically,” Zeke said, using Calloway’s own expression back at him, “The boys are free tonight.”
“Look,” Calloway said, starting to grow a pair, “I know what you’re getting at, but it’s impossible. We can’t do the festival and that’s that.”
“Calloway! Get your ass back here before the wings get cold!” someone shouted from the back room. A few seconds later, two men came out to investigate.
One of them, a big guy with a beer belly and a handlebar mustache stilled for a moment when he saw the uniform. “What’s going on?” he asked Calloway.
“This guy’s wife is Mimi Grant. She’s the one who hired us to play at the festival tonight in Whispering Bay.”
The guy put out his hand. Once again, Zeke hesitated before shaking it. “Bubba Collins. Sorry about the misunderstanding, but I’m sure you know the contract was breached. Not much we can do about that.”
“Yeah, I seem to be hearing that a lot lately.”
Bubba aka “Fatback” tugged on his strained belt buckle. “Look, do you have like a warrant or anything? Because if you don’t, we’d like to get back to our party.”
“Is there a reason I need a warrant?” Zeke asked mildly.
“Look, man, we get it. Your wife is pissed because—”
“My wife is not pissed. Nor does she know that I’m even here. I, on the other hand, am very unhappy. Do you fuckers have any idea how hard she worked on this festival? This is her first year as mayor and this festival is a make it or break it for her. She’s running around right now t
rying to figure out how to keep the town from going into riot mode when they discover in,” he stopped to glance at his watch, “about one hour and sixteen minutes, that Fatback Bubba and the Rattlesnakes are a no-show. I get why you don’t need to play this festival. You boys have just made it big. Good for you. But even if your word means shit, think about all those fans of yours who drove out today to see you. I hope they’re still fans when I get on that stage and tell them what assholes you are.”
“Hey, you can’t talk to us that way!” Calloway said.
Bubba jumped in to agree. “Yeah, who the hell do you think—”
“Boys, boys, let’s all calm down here,” said the other man, who up to now hadn’t said anything. He was tall like Bubba, but lean with curly brown hair that poked out from the edges of the baseball cap he wore on his head. “Let me get this straight.” He glanced between Calloway and Bubba. “You boys promised to play at a festival tonight?”
“It’s like thirty minutes from here in some little nowhere town no one cares about,” Calloway said.
“Aw, I like little nowhere towns. Came from one myself.”
Zeke frowned at the guy. Something about him seemed familiar.
Calloway went pale. “Sure, I love little towns, too. Doesn’t everyone? It’s just—”
“I don’t know about going on the road with someone who doesn’t keep their word,” said the guy with the baseball cap. “Seems like bad mojo to me.”
“But, they didn’t pay us the rest of the money they owed! What were we supposed to do?” Bubba said.
“Sounds to me like this fine officer’s wife was counting on you and you let her down. Let the whole town down. I sure hope all that bad publicity doesn’t rub off on me.”
Calloway was sweating now. “Maybe we can swing by?” he said to Zeke. “Play for like thirty minutes or something?”
“Oh, I think we can do better than that.” The man turned to Zeke and put out his hand. This time, Zeke didn’t hesitate to take it.
*~*~*
Mimi ran into the nearest porta potty and threw up. After an entire day of not eating, she’d grabbed a hot dog and was now paying the price. But most likely anything she ate right now would go down wrong. In exactly five minutes, tickets would go on sale for Fatback Bubba and the Rattlesnakes and she couldn’t let that happen. Which meant she needed to make her announcement now.
