Fatal Festival Days

by Jamie M. Blair

  “Okay, so it’s commonplace for everyone else around here, but not for me,” I said in my defense. “And Ben wouldn’t approve.”

  “He’s never hauled his daddy into the hoosegow for buying ’shine,” Roy said. “I can remember him and Jason stealing their dads’ bottles and hiding out in the woods getting blitzed.”

  “Set a few trees on fire one time,” Johnna said, pointing at Roy with a needle. “Remember that?”

  He laughed and slapped his knee. “Bonfire got out of control on ’em.”

  “They were good friends then,” I said, musing over the new information. “Wait, Ben set the woods on fire?”

  “Just once,” Johnna said, going back to her knitting.

  “Most cops have an interesting past,” Roy said. “The good ones can think like a bad guy.”

  “Ben doesn’t think like a bad guy,” I said. “I mean, if he does, it’s not because he is or ever was a bad guy.”

  “No, no, of course not,” Johnna said. “He just had some fun in his younger years is all.”

  “Like most kids do,” Roy added. “That Jason was trouble with a capital T. Ran up a list of offenses against people in town a mile long.”

  “Like what?” I asked.

  “Let’s see, there was the time he fired up Butch Landow’s tractor in the middle of the night and ended up running it through his barn door. Put himself in the hospital that time.”

  Johnna lifted her needle. “Don’t forget the time he broke into Soapy’s and spiked the latte milk with ’shine. Half the town was sauced the next morning.”

  “He was in college then,” Roy said. “Took that boy a long time to grow out of his ornery streak.”

  “What happened with him and Ben?”

  “Ben became a cop, didn’t he?” Roy said. “Can’t be a delinquent and have a cop for a best friend.”

  “Their paths divided,” Johnna said. “Then he arrested Jason for assault.”

  “Wait. What?” I said. “Assault? Who did he assault?”

  “Richard,” Roy said. “Popped his uncle right in the mouth. Took out a couple of teeth.”

  “So he’s violent?”

  “If you call punching a guy in the mouth violent, then I suppose he is.”

  “You don’t?” I asked.

  Roy shrugged. “Sometimes a man has to sock another fella in the nose. Happens.”

  But I wasn’t sure. If Jason had a proclivity for assaulting people, then maybe he could’ve killed Dixon. “Did he ever assault anyone else?”

  “Jason?” Johnna said, “Of course he did. That kid was getting in fights from the time he could make a fist.”

  “Only got arrested the once, though,” Roy added.

  “Interesting,” I said, one piece of the puzzle coming together. “So that’s what went on between them. How long ago was this?”

  Roy leaned his head back, thinking. “Probably twenty years or so now. Ben was living in Columbus. Soapy gave him rights to police the town when he came home for visits. It was more a gesture from the town than a real thing, like a key to the city type of deal, but they honored Jason’s arrest anyway.”

  “Wow,” I said. “He wasn’t even living here, or working as a cop in Brookville where they have jurisdiction over Metamora.”

  “That was Jason’s legal argument,” Johnna said. “Got him out of jail, too.”

  My mind reeled. “Okay, so why did Jason punch Richard?”

  “Nobody knows,” Johnna said. “Neither of them would tell anyone.”

  “I wonder if Jason somehow found out that Richard stole Robin from his dad,” I said. “It makes sense. Jason, who was prone to that type of reaction, would’ve … well, reacted that way. He could’ve just pretended to me that he didn’t know. Right?”

  “Could’ve been that,” Roy said.

  Johnna nodded, resuming knitting a teapot cozy in the shape of a ski cap. It had a hole for the spout on one side, one for the handle on the other, one for the lid on the top, and the bottom was open to slide it over the pot. “Do those really work?” I asked her. It had to be the most useless thing in the world if it didn’t. They were cute though, I’d give her that. This one had yellow daisy appliqués that she was knitting on.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “They’re more a collectible item for people who collect teapots.”

  “A collection for your collection,” Roy said, shaking his head.

  “You’ll be shaking your head when I’m rolling in the dough after I sell them at Canal Days next year,” she said to him.

  “People’s bad tastes are no business of mine,” he said.

  The back sliding door opened and the dogs jumped up from their napping spots on the floor around the table. Ben came inside and patted their heads wading through the masses of wriggling fur and wagging tails to let them outside. “What’s on the agenda today?” he asked, saying hello to Roy and Johnna and kissing me on the cheek.

  “Telling tales about your younger years,” Roy said.

  “There can’t be that many,” Ben said, opening the refrigerator door.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Setting trees on fire is a pretty good story.”

  “It was one time,” he said, smiling at the memory. “Teenage boys aren’t the smartest people on Earth.” He let out a chuckle. “My mom wanted to kill me for that. She grounded me for the rest of the summer. Dad talked her down to three weeks.”

  “I can imagine Irene was devastated about what it would do to her reputation,” I said.

  “She was mortified.”

  “It was good ammunition,” Johnna said. “Every time she got high and mighty on us, we’d remind her whose son set the woods on fire.”

  I could use some of that ammunition to get her to back down. Too bad Mia was the annoying-teenage type and not the delinquent-teenage type.

  Who was I kidding? I’d take annoying over delinquent any day, even if I didn’t have anything to hold over Irene.

  “Speaking of Irene,” Johnna said. “She still wants her cat competition to be held even if the rest of the Winter Festival doesn’t get rescheduled.”

  “Oh, good gravy. First the dog sled guy and now her. Are the Daughters going to start picketing my house with their cat ear headbands on?”

  Roy snickered.

  “Don’t worry,” Ben said. “If they do, I’ll turn my new snowblower on them.”

  “Good to know it has dual purposes,” I said.

  I couldn’t see Ben turning his mother into a snowman, but it was nice to think about.

  He made a ham sandwich, grabbed a bag of potato chips. “Anybody want anything to eat while I’m in here?” he asked. I’d told him about Roy and his food situation. “Roy? Sandwich?”

  “I’m good, thanks,” Roy said. “Actually, you got a baggie? I might take some of these cookies with me.”

  “You didn’t like the cookies,” I said.

  “So they’ll grow on me.”

  Ben got a plastic bag out of the drawer and handed it to Roy. “Johnna? Anything?”

  “No thanks, Ben. I had one of Soapy and Theresa’s breakfast sandwiches this morning.”

  “Okay then, I’ll leave you to your Action Agency work.” He grabbed a soda and headed into the family room to eat his lunch and watch the afternoon news.

  Roy took a break for stashing cookies in his baggie, leaned across the table, and whispered. “Did you see his eye twitch when he thought about the fire? It brought Jason to mind. Bad blood there. Bad blood.”

  I hadn’t noticed, but Johnna nodded. “Those two hate each other’s guts,” she said. “They used to be like brothers. Now they can’t be in the same room.”

  If they’d been so close, I wondered why he’d never mentioned Jason to me before. All the memories he had of him seemed to be locked away tight. Inaccessib
le. Like he never wanted to revisit them.

  But he had smiled when the memory first came to him, so maybe—despite the eye twitch—I could reunite my husband and his old best friend. Death had a way of bringing people together and making them put aside their differences.

  Of course, if Jason really was a killer, I didn’t want to rekindle the friendship he and Ben once had. Tomorrow after Dixon’s service, I’d be one step closer to the truth.

  • Sixteen •

  Making a bright orange cast look somber for a memorial service was a challenge. A T-shirt wasn’t appropriate, and none of my long-sleeved shirts fit over the cast. I had to cut off the arm of a black sweatshirt of Ben’s and dress it up somehow.

  “Wrap a scarf around it,” Monica said, pulling a mottled black and grey one out of my closet. She wound it around my cast and tied it in a bow at my wrist. “There. Very nice.”

  “It’s kind of strange looking,” I said, waving my arm around. The ends of the bow fluttered.

  “It’s not traffic cone orange,” she said. “Besides, it makes the sweatshirt look less … like a sweatshirt.”

  “True. Help me find some jewelry.”

  “Come in my room. I have something that will work.”

  I followed her across the hall. She pulled a chunky silver necklace out of a drawer full of costume jewelry and hooked it around my neck. It had big, glittery gems studded through the fat squares of silver. “It’s a bit much,” I said.

  “It dresses things up.”

  Next she wrapped a silver studded belt around my waist, cinching in the sweatshirt. “I really don’t want to attract attention to my waistline,” I said.

  “It actually thins you out. This sweatshirt is shaped like a big box.”

  I let her go, making me up like a Christmas tree full of tinsel.

  “There,” she said, standing back to take a look at her handiwork. “You look nice. Nice enough for a memorial service at least.” She strode back out of her room and into mine.

  “Was that a compliment? I couldn’t tell,” I said, following her.

  “Sit down and let me do something with your hair.”

  “I can do my own hair,” I said, taking my hairbrush from her.

  “One-handed brushing isn’t doing your hair. Sit.” She grabbed the brush again and pointed to the bed.

  I sat on the end and waited while she retrieved the curling iron from the bathroom and plugged it in behind my dresser.

  “I really have to crack this case today,” I said, as she tugged at my hair with the brush. “I need a break. Something big that I can use to say, ‘This is what happened.’ ”

  “Want me to go with you? I’m pretty good at being the Daphne to your Velma.”

  “Why am I Velma?”

  “Oh, please. Like you’d be Daphne.”

  “Gus is Scooby,” I said.

  “Which actually makes you Shaggy,” she said, laughing.

  “Your car’s green. You own the Mystery Machine.”

  “In miniature.”

  We were both laughing like loons, more than the ridiculous conversation warranted, but Monica and I had a way of being silly together that only sisters could be. As an only child, Ben missed out on that connection between siblings. But, growing up he’d had Jason. I really wanted to prove Jason was innocent and bring them back together.

  “You can come with me if you want,” I told her. “Roy and Johnna will be there, so it’ll be good to have another levelheaded person helping me.”

  “Those two know a lot, but sometimes I think they don’t realize what they know can help. To them it’s common town knowledge, but to you it could be the key to solving a murder.”

  “They are great resources. They know everybody. But you’re right, they don’t always use what they know.”

  “I’ll finish up your hair and get ready. Quinn’s running the store today. He said I deserved a day off. Isn’t that sweet?”

  “So sweet it gives me a toothache.”

  “He’s going to teach me how to train dogs, so we can do it together and merge our businesses. Isn’t that a perfect plan?”

  “Treats and training go together like a hand and a glove.”

  “Dog Diggity Training and Treats! I love that!”

  “It has a ring to it. Which location will you keep?”

  “Both, but we’ll offer training here and treats in Connersville at his location, too.”

  “Is this after you come back from Ireland as married newlyweds?”

  “I’m not getting married in Ireland! At least not without my matron of honor at my wedding. So if you get a call from me that I’m flying you across the Atlantic, I guess you’ll know why. But, it’s not going to happen. We want to take our time. We’re talking about moving in together sometime in the spring maybe.”

  “You’re leaving me? My kitchen will be lonely without you in it cooking every day.”

  “It was only temporary, Cam. I need to find a place of my own eventually, don’t I? Especially now that Ben’s back home.”

  “Ben doesn’t mind you being here.”

  “I know, but it’s your house, you and Ben and Mia. You need time for your own little family.”

  “You know you can stay as long as you want.”

  “I know.” She wrapped the last section of my hair around the curling iron. “That reminds me. Mom’s coming to stay next weekend.”

  “What?” I said, jerking my head to look at her and nearly getting burned with the curling iron. “Why am I the last to know about this?”

  “She only told me last night. She said to let you know she’d give you a call later this week.”

  “Ugh, that means I have to put up with her and Carl and their canoodling around town.”

  “Canoodling? You’ve been hanging around Johnna too much. You’re starting to talk like her.”

  “Just go get ready to leave,” I said.

  “Mom coming shouldn’t put you in a bad mood.”

  “It doesn’t put me in a bad mood. It stresses me out. I need enough time to mentally prepare for her visits.”

  “I don’t see why.”

  I sighed. “Because she tells you things. I get bombs dropped on me after the fact, like about her and Dad splitting up. Who knows what she’ll tell me this time.”

  Monica glanced at her feet and turned to unplug the curling iron. “Give me twenty minutes and I’ll be ready to go.”

  “Wait,” I said, grasping her by the arm. “What do you know?”

  “Nothing,” she said, but she wouldn’t look at me.

  “Monica?”

  “It’s for Mom to tell you.”

  “Oh, good gravy. I don’t even want to know, do I?”

  “It’s not bad. I mean, you’ll see more of her now.”

  I stood up and gripped her shoulders to make her look at me. “She’s moving to Metamora, isn’t she?”

  “Well … ”

  “Is she moving in with Carl Finch?”

  “Uhhh … ”

  “Monica!”

  “Yes! Okay? She’s moving into Hilltop Castle.”

  “Is Carl going to be our new daddy?” This was a disaster.

  “No! I don’t think so. I mean, I don’t know. She hasn’t decided, but she accepted the ring while she’s thinking about it.”

  “Of course she did. I suppose it’s enormous.”

  “She said it’s two carats.”

  “She wouldn’t say no to that.”

  “I don’t think she’s going to say no.”

  “I thought she was just having a good time being single? What happened to that?”

  Monica shrugged. “You know Mom. She can change her mind on a dime.”

  “Great. Maybe you two can have a double wedding.”

  Monica
made a face. “No thanks.”

  The Cripps women all in one town again. Hold on to your hat, Metamora, you’re about to get turned upside down.

  Dixon’s house already had a for sale sign up in the front yard. Cars lined the street on both sides. The house was a small Cape Cod just outside of town heading in the direction of Connersville.

  Evelyn Lister, Dixon’s sister, welcomed us at the door, above which a pair of ski poles were anchored like a pediment. She looked like David, just female. I wondered briefly if they were twins.

  Everyone from town was gathered in the adjoining dining room and living room. The table was piled with casseroles, and fruit and vegetable trays. A card table off to one side held beverages of all varieties.

  I wandered around between the two rooms saying hello to people and taking in the framed photographs David had of himself in all of his Olympic glory. There were even framed newspaper articles, and a framed program from the Olympic trials featuring David on the cover. Every wall, every table, even the mantel over the fireplace was covered with his photos and memorabilia. I didn’t know if he had decorated his home this way or if Evelyn had done it for the memorial.

  Monica was chatting with Evelyn, hopefully getting some good information about who might have wanted to off her brother with an ice pick. Logic said that since the weapon was associated with ice and David competed in a winter sport, it had to be someone connected with the Olympics. One of his past competitors, maybe? But murder was seldom logical. At least the couple I’d solved in the past. I couldn’t count anyone out.

  Richard and Robin Banks stood in the corner of the dining room chatting with an older couple I didn’t know. I knew most of the two hundred residents of Metamora, and I didn’t recognize them as people from town. I peered into the kitchen and saw a doorway people were going in and out of, so I followed along.

  The doorway opened to a four-season room with windows on all sides. In every corner and mounted over each window were a pair of antique skis. David was definitely dedicated to his sport.

  Old Dan and Elaina sat on a wicker loveseat on the far side of the room. I waved and Dan gave me a thumbs-up. Elaina flicked her fingers in a wave and kissed Dan on the cheek.