“Pooh,” said her sister. “There’s rambunctious and there’s plain old troublemaking. And that fits Pete Waterbury to a T.”
“Maybe he had that attention deficit disorder, though we didn’t know about such things in those days.”
“Pooh. You’ve always made excuses for the misfits. Pete Waterbury didn’t have anything that couldn’t have been cured by a few whacks on his bottom. But that Dr. Spock came along telling everybody not to spank their children, and look where it got us.”
“Sister, you never spanked a child in your life.”
“Well, I didn’t have any, did I?” said Edna.
“No, you didn’t, but not because Albert Johannsen didn’t try.”
“Pooh. Albert Johannsen didn’t have two pennies to rub together.”
BeBe glanced at Liv through the rearview mirror, her eyes twinkling. This was obviously a running theme between the sisters.
Liv pulled them back on track. “What about Joss? Was he…rambunctious?”
“Lord, no,” Miss Ida said. “Joss was in my class four years before Pete. And those two boys were like night and day. Even though they both took after their father in looks, Joss was the stable one. He was quiet and attentive. Maybe he somehow knew he’d be having to take over the farm early on.”
“Seems like,” said Edna. “He won a town scholarship to go over to the aggie school at Cobleskill, but he had to come home after two years when Joss Senior starting failing. A darn shame, too. Joss Senior died two years later and Joss took over the running of the farm.”
Miss Ida clucked her tongue. “Poor boy. But he’s done a fine job with it. And he married Amanda Pitts from over in Elizabethville. Such a nice girl.”
“By then Pete was really acting out,” Miss Edna said. “A big bully. Stealing and fighting. Then what he did to that unfortunate—”
“Here we are,” Miss Ida said as BeBe turned into the drive in front of the Waterbury store. Already it was filled with cars. BeBe offered to drive the sisters up to the house and then find a place to park.
“Good heavens, no,” said Miss Ida. “The exercise will do us good.”
But a young Latino man was standing in the yard and motioned them ahead. BeBe stopped by him and unrolled her window.
“Hi, Marco,” BeBe said. “Sad occasion.”
“Yes, miss. Mr. Joss, he saved you a place for your car by the house. I’ll show you.” He took off toward the private driveway.
“That Joss. So considerate, even in bereavement.” Miss Ida sighed.
Her sister gave her a look but refrained from comment, and they went inside with Liv wondering what Pete had done to that “unfortunate” somebody Miss Edna had been about to tell them about.
The living room was packed with people. Liv followed BeBe and the sisters to deposit their food offerings among the already heavily laden dining table. Then they wove through the crowd to where Amanda and Joss stood.
Joss stood like a sentinel, but Amanda smiled warmly and took each sister’s hand. “Thank you so much for coming. Joss?”
“What?”
“The Zimmerman sisters and BeBe and Liv are here.”
He looked at them as if he’d never seen them before but thanked them for coming. They all murmured something and moved on.
Ted stood across the room, talking with a man whose back was turned. He saw Liv and motioned her over. “I wondered if you’d come. I meant to call you.”
“BeBe said I would be remiss not to, but I feel a little out of place.”
The other man turned, and Liv did a double take worthy of a Saturday morning cartoon. Chaz Bristow, hair neatly combed, fingernails clean, wearing a dark gray, impeccably tailored suit, grinned down at her.
“Go on. Say it. I clean up real nice.”
Liv couldn’t keep from returning that megawatt grin in spite of the solemn occasion. “I’m just surprised—”
“That I bestirred myself to make an appearance.” His eyes flashed and for a second she thought she saw something that wasn’t boredom. “Joss is a good man and he doesn’t deserve this—” He caught himself but they both knew what he’d been about to say. “Unfortunate situation,” he finished.
“No. It’s really awful.”
“Oh hell, here comes Janine. Is no place sacred? See you later.” He disappeared into the crowd like vapor, not an easy feat for someone over six feet tall.
Janine didn’t slow down as she passed Liv and Ted.
“The woman is an indefatigable hunter, but it’s really a bit gauche at a funeral,” Ted said under his breath.
“What does she want with him? When I went to the Clarion office, he said Janine knew how to hold a grudge. Is there something between them? I mean, will whatever happened in the past affect how we do business with the Clarion now?”
“It shouldn’t.” He looked over the crowd.
“You know, that’s so annoying.”
“What?”
“How you make me wheedle every detail out of you.”
He smiled. “Just my innate dramatic sense. Can’t help myself.”
“Were you an actor?”
“Me? Lord, no. But I come from a long line of storytellers.”
Liv frowned at him. “Is that a euphemism for liars?”
“Nope. It’s the honest-to-God truth. But I thought you wanted to know about Chaz.”
“Only because it’s good to know your colleagues. The feud?” she prodded.
“Oh, that. Not anything interesting. Janine’s been divorced for quite a few years now. When Chaz came back she showed some interest in him. He didn’t reciprocate. You’ve probably figured out by now, Janine likes to get her way. And she’s tenacious. Excuse me; I think Chaz needs help.”
Left alone, Liv took the opportunity to look around the room. It was a comfortable space with cushioned chairs and a plump couch. Extra chairs had been brought in but hardly anyone was sitting down. Most stood talking in small groups, holding plates of funeral foods, eating and chatting quietly, though as Liv looked around the room she saw that people were beginning to be a little more vocal and enjoying themselves more. Respectful, but not mournful. Pete Waterbury had had his fifteen minutes of fame.
Bill Gunnison stood on the far side of the room, looking uncomfortable and ignored by all. Feeling a little out of place herself, Liv turned to study the family pictures lined up across the shelf of a dark wood bookcase. A group shot of Joss and Amanda and all five children. Hank, the oldest, ran the cider mill, Ely had a farm in Vermont, and Elisabeth lived in Plattsburgh where she taught school.
Next to that was a picture of Roseanne and Donnie as young children standing in front of a huge white pine Christmas tree. One of Donnie in his football uniform. Roseanne, standing next to her father, smiling broadly and holding a soccer trophy. It had been taken several years ago. Roseanne’s red hair was held back in a ponytail and the smile showed a row of braces.
But it was the image of Joss that caught Liv’s attention. He looked just like his brother had looked only a few days before. It was so obvious that Liv knew anyone who had known Joss then must have recognized Pete. Now she was sure Ted had recognized him and had confronted him. And what about Dolly? Had she known who her Peeping Tom really was? A shiver rippled through her.
“That was eighth grade. We were the Essex Junior Champions.” Roseanne reached past Liv and picked up the photo.
“I never got to play soccer,” Liv said. “Did your dad come to all your games?”
“My dad?” Roseanne clutched the photo frame so tightly that her knuckles turned white. “Yeah, almost always, except if he got hung up at the mill. But most of them.” She placed the frame back on the shelf facing away from Liv.
Liv peered at Roseanne’s profile, trying to read her emotions.
She turned back to Liv so fast that Liv stepped back.
“Mom sent me over to tell you to get some food.” Roseanne rolled her eyes. “She’s always trying to get people to eat. Like that’s go
nna solve anything.”
“Does something need solving?” ventured Liv.
Roseanne gave her a look that only a teenager could manage, halfway between Are you blind, deaf, and dumb? and You know exactly what I’m talking about but are treating me like a child.
And she would be right. That was exactly what Liv was doing. And she imagined everyone else was, too. It was human nature to want to protect a child from all the ugliness in the world. But this child was no dummy. She hadn’t taken the photo in order to give Liv a better look; she’d carefully removed the picture from Liv’s view. On purpose, because she didn’t want Liv studying the photo. Because she, too, had seen the resemblance?
Except that Pete had always appeared in public in his clown white. And now it was painfully obvious why. When could Roseanne have seen Pete without his makeup? The night she and Joss had gone into the park looking for Donnie, Pete would have still been in costume. After he was dead? As far as Liv knew, there had been no viewing. And the casket had been closed for the funeral.
“Come on,” Roseanne said. “I’ll take you to get a plate.” She moved closer. “Take some of everything even if you don’t like it. It’ll hurt their feelings if you don’t eat.”
“Thanks for the tip,” said Liv, walking with her to the dining room.
Roseanne hovered over her while she dabbed food onto her plate. It was an amazing array of choices. Jell-O salad, brisket, chicken, meatballs, ham, vegetable casseroles, fruit salad, pickles and relishes, rolls and biscuits. When Liv was finished, her plate was filled to the edges.
“You want something to drink?” Roseanne pointed over to the sideboard where a variety of liquids was displayed, as well as another table of desserts. Liv liked to eat, but she didn’t think she could do justice to all of this.
“Thanks, but I don’t think I can juggle the plate and a glass. I’m more comfortable with a glass and food that comes on a toothpick.”
“Is that how they eat in New York?”
“That’s how we generally eat standing up in a crowd.”
“Smart.”
“Have you ever been to New York?”
Roseanne shook her head. “But I want to go. We were supposed to go see the Rockettes last year, but Mom got really sick with pneumonia and we had to cancel. But I want to go someday. Is it safe?”
An odd question from a girl whose uncle was just murdered in her father’s store. “As safe as most places. You just have to have street smarts; don’t go anywhere that doesn’t look safe and don’t act like a tourist.”
“Do you know any Goths?”
“Um, I’m acquainted with a few.”
“Have you ever been to a mosh pit?”
“Once. Mainly I just worked.”
“But you met all kinds of fabulous people, right?”
“Right. Fabulous. And also a few not so fabulous.”
“Like the Real Housewives?”
“Oh yeah. A lot of those.”
“Did you ever see a murder?”
Liv nearly dropped her fork.
“I mean being from the big city and all. It probably happens all the time.”
“Not all the time.” Where was this going? Was the girl afraid that it would happen again? “And it usually happens over drug deals gone bad, or in a domestic dispute that got out of hand.”
“But it could be random, right?”
“Yes,” Liv said slowly. “But, Roseanne, it’s unlikely to happen here again.”
“I know. Bill will arrest the Zoldoskys and it’ll be over.”
“Most likely. Don’t worry.”
“I’m not worried. I’m just…curious. We’d better get back.” Without waiting for Liv, she took off toward the archway. By the time Liv reached the living room, Roseanne was gone.
Liv joined Dolly and Fred, who were standing with the mayor. Gilbert Worley was one of the last people she wanted to see, but at least she knew the man and wouldn’t have to meet and greet people she didn’t know while plowing through her plate of food.
“You’ll be popular with all the ladies,” Mayor Worley said, indicating her full plate.
“Roseanne showed me the ropes.”
“Such a sweet girl,” Dolly said.
“Terrible business,” the mayor said. “Amanda says Rosie was all cut up about Pete’s death.”
“Even though she’s seventeen, she’s still just a child,” Dolly said. “And to see something like that, her uncle all trussed up in the cider mill. No wonder she’s upset; they shouldn’t have let her inside.”
So the details were out, not that Liv thought they could keep it quiet.
“I just don’t know why they had to dump the body on Joss.”
“And who would they be?” asked Bill Gunnison, coming up behind Dolly.
Dolly let out a squeak. “Oh, Bill, the way you creep up on a person.”
Liv thought he’d approached more like a lame bear, but whatever.
“She’s talking about those Zoldoskys, of course.” Mayor Worley patted Dolly’s shoulder. “Everybody’ll feel a lot better once you’ve arrested them or sent them on their way.”
“I’m working on it,” Bill said. “But I don’t want people deciding it’s the Zoldoskys, until we have proof. I won’t have people getting all riled up and taking things into their own hands.”
“Bill Gunnison. We’re civilized, God-fearing Christians.”
“I’m sure you are, Dolly, but I wouldn’t attest to a lot of folks in this town.”
“How’s the investigation coming?” Fred asked. “If you’re at liberty to say?”
“It’s in progress.”
Jeremiah Atkins stepped up to the group. “Which means nothing much is happening.”
“Jeremiah, you know that’s the way the law works,” Bill said. “And let’s remember why we’re here.” He glanced over to Joss and Amanda, who were standing by the door and seeing a group out.
“You’re absolutely right,” Fred said. “It’s about time we were going, Dolly. I’ll get your coat.” Fred went off down the hall. Dolly said good-bye to Liv and she and Gilbert went to take leave of Amanda and Joss.
“I guess I’ll get going, too.” Jeremiah wandered off after Fred.
Which left Liv alone with Bill. A faint, dull red slashed his cheekbones. He was caught right in the middle and she didn’t envy him, and she couldn’t think of a thing to say. Fortunately BeBe, Ida, and Edna were ready to go.
As Liv stood behind Andy Miller waiting her turn to say good-bye to Amanda and Joss, she looked around for Donnie and Roseanne, but they were no longer there. She caught Bill’s eye for a split second before he turned and left the room. A few minutes later they were climbing back into BeBe’s Subaru.
“Well, that was a nice reception, wasn’t it,” Ida said as they followed Andy’s truck out of the Waterburys’ drive.
“More than Pete Waterbury deserved, and that’s a fact,” added her sister.
“I’m just glad it’s over,” BeBe said. She honked as Andy Miller turned into the lane to his farm. Liv couldn’t keep from looking into the field where the vendors had camped. In the distance, she could see the Zoldosky trailer and the gray truck parked next to it. It looked sad and lonely, and Liv felt a stab of empathy for the men who might or might not have killed Pete Waterbury.
BeBe slowed down and swung wide to avoid a man walking down the road. As they passed he looked toward them, then quickly looked away, hiding his battered face. It was the one they called Junior, the balloon maker.
“Poor boy,” said Ida. “What will he do if they send the older brother to jail? I’m sure he protects him from the cruelty of the world. And I’m not so sure the other brothers will take care of him.”
“Oh, Sister, you are a pushover for every stray dog, feral cat, and misfit in the world. They’ll do just fine with one less brother. And the farther away from here, the better.”
“Well, I’m not sure that one of them was the killer at all.”
�
��You think it was one of us?” Edna scoffed.
“Not us, but somebody just passing through, and Pete was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe he got into trouble out there at that Soapy’s place.”
“Wearing a clown outfit?”
Liv jerked. How did Edna know about the clown outfit? Surely Bill hadn’t released that detail. Who was she kidding? The whole town probably knew all the details.
“Clown outfit?” asked BeBe, horrified. “You mean he was still dressed in his costume?”
“Where did you hear this?” Liv asked.
Ida blushed and tried to look innocent.
“We’re not at liberty to say,” Edna said primly.
There it was again. They were shutting Liv out because she wasn’t one of them.
“You know, ladies, I’m here for good. This is my home now and I’m responsible for the success of the festivals that keep everyone employed. I wish you would trust me.”
BeBe glanced over her shoulder. “You should trust her.”
Edna sighed. “It was Susie Andrews over at the Bayview Diner out on Lakeside Road. She overheard two of the county cops talking about it at breakfast. Everybody knows.”
Ted was right about the Celebration Bay gossip. The whole town must know what was going on.
“So has everyone agreed that one of the Zoldoskys killed him?” Liv asked.
“Let’s just say everyone hopes it is,” Edna said. “Though it is possible that there is someone who recognized Pete and decided to put an end to his shenanigans.”
“Hush,” Ida said. “No one in Celebration Bay would commit murder.”
Liv studied the two sisters, wondering how two women who looked so alike, who had lived together forever, could be so different. Like Pollyanna and Eeyore.
She wanted to side with Miss Ida’s compassion toward the Zoldoskys, but she was afraid that Miss Edna was right.
“Well, I say good riddance to bad rubbish. He got what he deserved. An eye for an eye. Not that it will bring back poor Eleanor Gibson’s son, rest her soul.”
“Eleanor Gibson?” Liv asked. It was the first time she had ever heard the name.
“She was Ted Driscoll’s sister,” said Miss Ida. “Her boy, Victor, went out fishing one night and never came home.”
Foul Play at the Fair Page 10
