Frosted on the Ferris Wheel

by Laura Pauling

  “Thank you.” She sounded curt but polite. Then she walked toward the exit.

  “Holly,” Trent said.

  But she kept on walking out the door and into the driving sheet of rain. Once on the sidewalk she sprinted home. Not looking back.

  The wet, thick liquid hit her feet first. It pooled along her back and then inch-by-inch went from her lower back to her sides to her shoulders, already drying, hardening.

  A silent scream filled her chest with nowhere to go as the cement covered her mouth, choking her. It went into her nose and ears. Everything went dark. Black. Silent. She would die. There was no time for regrets as her body, starved for oxygen, shut down.

  A voice rose above the fear and panic. “Holly!”

  It took several times before she awoke. Tears wet her cheeks. Her breath was ragged, shooting in and out, like she couldn’t get enough air. She pressed her hand to her face, mouth, and chest. It was just a dream. It was just a dream. She had to keep telling herself that.

  “Holly?”

  Holly peered at her friends, Kitty and Ann, who stood above her bed. Their faces etched with worry.

  Kitty clasped her hands. “Sorry to intrude. We knew where you kept the spare key and you’re never late for a meeting of the mystery club and it was getting late.” Her voice softened. “We were worried.”

  Everything flooded back to Holly, the day before, all the clues and mishaps, warnings and overheard conversations. Bits and pieces of information that didn’t seem to fit together well. She rolled out of bed.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. I overslept.” She stared at Muffins who usually got her up in the morning, so lately she’d not set her alarm. Even he had overslept.

  “I’m glad we came,” Ann said. “You were thrashing around something terrible. Moaning. Whimpering.”

  Holly shuddered. “Just a nightmare. Nothing that could happen in real life.” Then she thought about the glare Chip flashed her last night before Trent interrupted. She had effectively put herself on Chip’s radar by questioning him and spying.

  Ann smiled. “Breakfast is all ready to go for you.”

  “Yes.” Kitty smiled, her eyes brightening. “Dress and meet us over at the shop. But don’t take too long, because we’ve only heard snippets of this new investigation. We’re dying to talk about it.”

  Laughing at Kitty’s pun, Holly’s friends headed back to the hallway.

  “Where’s Charlene?”

  Kitty turned at the door and shrugged. “She texted and said she couldn’t make it.”

  The door to her apartment clicked shut as her friends headed back to Just Cheesecake. Charlene never went this long without wanting to strategize about the murder and plan their next move. Holly hated to admit it but she missed her ornery friend, her sarcastic remarks, and her teasing comments about Trent.

  Enough of her time-wasting pity party. Quickly, she got dressed, fed Muffins, and walked over to her shop. Oodles, the restaurant next to her shop, sold the daily newspaper where Millicent’s newest article about this new murder was sure to be. She didn’t even want to know.

  Back in the kitchen of Just Cheesecake, she laid out their work plan and the cheesecake desserts she wanted ready by the festival. Just the basics. Her mind foggy, a slight headache appearing, she couldn’t talk about the investigation yet, even though her friends were anxious to hear about it.

  Two hours later, the desserts cooling, Holly hung her apron on a hook. “Okay, let’s do this.”

  Fisting her first cup of coffee for the day, Holly sat at a table with her friends. She explained all the pieces of the puzzle. The death by cement. The nameless man, Gary Schilling’s partner at Sunny Side Realty, who didn’t seem to know about Dave’s property investments but was very interested and questioned Judy, Gary’s wife about it.

  “I can solve that part of the mystery,” Ann piped up. “The nameless man is Joel Atherton, one of the most charming but creepy men around. I went to high school with him. A snake.”

  Holly sipped her coffee. Hmm. “Would he murder someone?”

  “Given the right opportunity, anyone has the hidden potential for murder,” said Kitty.

  Millicent’s face popped into Holly’s mind at the thought of murder. The thought scared her. Could she? Would she? Given the right situation? She redirected her line of thinking. “Well, to bury a person in cement requires planning. So I’d say this was more than a hidden potential rising to the surface because of rage. This had to be a deep-seated resentment.”

  Kitty and Ann nodded in agreement.

  Holly went on to explain that Gary Schilling had purchased the abandoned property the month before and had secretly been buying up property without telling his wife or partner, Joel.

  “That right there can cause all sorts of problems,” Kitty stated like she knew something about this from experience. “Secrets between loved ones never come to any good. They breed suspicion and doubt. And that can lead to mistrust, a growing jealousy, and then, well, the imagination takes over.”

  Kitty’s statement pierced Holly’s heart. She had secrets from all of them, her past, the reasons she moved to Fairview, but she didn’t want to revisit that, never mind talk about it. Maybe at some point.

  Ann cleared her throat and glanced at Kitty, like they’d had previous conversations.

  Kitty nodded, and said, “Now, tell us what’s going on with Trent. Charlene’s not here so you can be honest. Heartbreak is written all over your face. To the discerning eye, which we have.”

  Holly sighed. She couldn’t talk about Millicent’s theories and observations that predicted Trent tiring of her soon. That Holly was boring and not good or flashy enough to keep his attention. That was too private, too painful. “We were doing fine until yesterday.”

  She didn’t need to say anything else. Kitty and Ann were well aware of the fact that Trent disliked their amateur attempts at solving murder mysteries. They shook their heads and tsked. They didn’t have to say their thoughts out loud. Possibly, or most likely definitely, Trent and Holly were careening toward a major break up. Before even really getting a chance at love.

  Holly placed her hand in the center of the table. “Ready for the cheer?” When her question led to silent and nervous glances at the door as if Charlene would enter any second, Holly said, “Yeah. I agree. Doesn’t feel right.”

  ***

  Her friends gone, Holly sat in the silence of her shop. Once the festival started, hopefully this place would be hopping. Holly would be manning her booth every day. Ann had volunteered to stay back in the shop. The festival still seemed days away though. Right now, Holly couldn’t see past the curtain of discouragement that had fallen over her. Between Charlene, Trent, and Millicent, Holly teetered on the edge of a breakdown. Or that’s what it felt like.

  Shaking off her morose thoughts, Holly locked up the shop. She bought an iced-coffee at Oodles then found herself walking down Main Street toward the fairgrounds. Not that she wanted to be reminded of her failed plans last night. She was curious. Would Chip be there?

  The air was cooler and the grass was still damp from the rainstorm. The ground squished beneath her feet, soaking into her sneakers. Charlene’s yellow boots would come in handy. Holly pulled out her phone. No missed calls or texts.

  She pictured the festival, the mass of people, hungry and thirsty, scrambling to purchase a cool smoothie. Then she pictured the people turning away, shaking their heads, and heading over to The Tasty Bite. Anger toward Millicent simmered, ready to surface with the smallest provocation. Holly was uneasy with the feeling, the rage.

  Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice the man walk up beside her until he gripped her arm. “You seem to be nosing around an awful lot. The festival hasn’t even started yet.” Chip sneered at her, his face lined with suspicion. And was that fear?

  Chip was definitely hiding something.

  He led her around to the back of the gazebo where they were mostly hidden from Main St
reet and the other workers. Fear prickled her scalp.

  “So,” he hissed, his breath reeking of cigarettes. “Someone sent you to follow up on me, eh? Check me out. Make sure I’m doing my job.”

  Holly was about to stammer out a lame excuse that she didn’t know what he was talking about. But this was opportunity. “That’s right.” She jerked her arm from his grip. “Is everything in order?”

  He scoffed. “Of course.”

  She straightened up, taking on an air of authority. Inside, she floundered with what to say next. He must’ve seen her doubt and desperation.

  He leaned in closer. “You’d better not be playing games with me. I’ve done everything as instructed. When I get paid, I’ll take care of the rest.”

  “The rest?” Holly knew she was taking a risk by asking. “I was told to check up on you. I don’t know everything either. Do you remember the rest?” she tested.

  He jerked away. His gaze bore into her, traveling up and down her body before settling on her face, her eyes. His expression changed from suspicion to anger. “You. And that cop last night.” Holly could see the gears working in his brain, placing her and the cop in a relationship. He narrowed his eyes, his lips twisting into an ugly, mocking grin. “One thing I remember clearly. I was told to take care of any liars, anyone trying to get in on this deal. I’ve got my eye on you.” With that threat, he stalked away.

  Holly sank against the side of the gazebo, trembling. He might not have revealed everything, but if he didn’t want the cops involved, then that meant something illegal. Possibly murder.

  But what was his connection to the Schillings? One way to find out. Spy on Judy and Joel tonight on their innocent dinner together.

  Holly just didn’t know which restaurant.

  Holly spent the afternoon brooding, reading, and sleeping. Sometimes escape was the best way to avoid thinking. When she awoke, afternoon shadows cast their light across her living room. She jumped to her feet. Tonight was a big undercover night and she had to be ready. With a glance at her kitchen and her unfinished strawberry cheesecake smoothie recipe, she headed for the shower.

  An hour later, she stood in front of the mirror. “How do I look, Muffins? Ready to blend in with the crowds?” Her plan was to dress plainly, almost camouflaged so no one would notice her, so Judy Schilling and Joel Atherton wouldn’t give her a second glance. And if they did? They’d pass her over as a lonely single out to have dinner by herself.

  She fiddled with makeup and last minute touch-ups. She pulled out her mega purse from the back of the closet and filled it with a small notebook, pens, and a granola bar—for Charlene’s sake. Before leaving, she placed her purse on the floor. “Okay, in you go.”

  Muffins barked, hopefully in approval, and climbed into her purse as if he knew the seriousness of tonight’s mission.

  The only problem was that Holly didn’t know where Judy and Joel were dining, and she didn’t know what car they’d be driving. Her plans that night were laughable. She started her car and stayed in the small lot attached to her apartment building. She thought about Joel, and the charming snake Ann claimed him to be. Where would a guy like that take a date? A date he wanted to impress, to flatter, so she would spill information?

  She crossed out Oodles. Not expensive enough. She crossed out any restaurants that lacked character and depth even if the food was tasty. The Fairview Bar and Grille, even though often packed, offered lots of character. She didn’t want to return there not after last night but it seemed a good choice. Casual. Comfortable. A good place to draw information from an unsuspecting, grieving widow.

  With Muffins hidden safely in her bag—who said she was dateless?—she entered and took a corner table. On a sudden impulse, she ordered a glass of wine, something to sit and sip. When that was gone, she ordered an appetizer of mozzarella sticks. Eventually, they turned cold. The waitress subtly asked her if that was all, after glancing at the throngs of people waiting for a table.

  Holly ordered a cheeseburger and fries. Still no sign of Judy and Joel. Had Holly been wrong? She was just about to give up and check out a different restaurant when the waitress guided a couple over to the table directly behind Holly. Her heart sank, doubts flooding.

  Millicent giggled, her hand on Trent’s arm as they scooted into their seats.

  Trent and Millicent? Had he lost interest in Holly that fast? Thank God for the high-backed bench seats, which offered privacy, and kept her hidden. Should she stay and listen? Or leave for her own sanity?

  Muffins poked his nose out of the bag, and she fed him a piece of cheeseburger. Of course she would stay.

  “Trent, you must be so exhausted just thinking about the upcoming festival while in the middle of a big murder case.” Millicent sounded more like a dove cooing.

  “Oh, it’s part and parcel with the job. This time of summer, my job, with tourists and crowd management, is always busy.”

  At the sound of Trent’s familiar voice, Muffins yipped. Holly glanced around and fed him another piece of her dinner. Thankfully, the noise level in the restaurant had covered his bark.

  Holly whispered, “Shh. I know you hear a familiar voice. But not now.” That same familiar voice made Holly sad too.

  “And how are you dealing with your big bad bossy wossy?”

  Holly grimaced picturing Millicent stroking Trent’s hand or tracing her knuckles down his cheek. Again, she felt uncomfortable, at the rage, simmering.

  He chuckled. “It’s not that bad. She’s just doing her job. It’s a lot of stress to enter a new job in a small town which should be fairly quiet and then get hit with not one but two murders.”

  “Well, yes,” Millicent purred. “But don’t you think a strong, intelligent man who has lived in this town for years should be the one in charge?”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I’m still at the bottom of the totem pole so to speak.”

  She giggled. “Who said I was talking about you?”

  Trent stammered, then said, “Okay, you got me. Guess I need to check in that ego of mine.”

  “Trent, sweetie.” She laughed. “Just kidding. Of course I was talking about you.” She switched directions, her voice dream-like. “Remember that time the summer before our senior year? By the lake?”

  “How could I forget?” Trent asked.

  Millicent sighed. “We made so many dreams and promises that night. Do you think they’ll come true?”

  “Yes, I do. Some of them already have.”

  A part of Holly died inside. They sounded so comfortable with one another, the flirting and serious conversations all flowing together. She couldn’t miss the nostalgia in both their voices. They had a past together, a history that Holly was beginning to feel she couldn’t compete against. Then she thought about Charlene. Maybe Charlene had been avoiding her because she knew Trent didn’t want to date anymore? And Charlene wanted to avoid the awkward conversation?

  Muffins nipped at her hand. She fed him the last of the burger. She chewed on a cold fry. It tasted like cardboard.

  Her waitress showed up. “Will that be at all?”

  Holly nodded. She’d taken up enough time. She’d tip the waitress extra. Right now, she was ready to leave. Forget finding Judy and Joel. As she waited for the bill, Holly tried to block out Trent and Millicent’s trip down memory lane.

  “Do you mind if I ask you a possibly sensitive question?” Millicent asked.

  Holly perked up. She sensed the change in Millicent’s voice. It went from flirty to focused. The tone a reporter would take.

  “How much do we really know about Holly?”

  “Holly Hart?” Trent sounded surprised.

  “I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about it.”

  “What about Holly?” Trent pressed, playing into Millicent’s hands.

  “Don’t you find it odd that she’s so obsessed with murders? How much do we really know about her?”

  Hot tears burned Holly’s eyes. Trent wouldn’t be able
to answer that question because over the past few months, she had avoided talking about her past. She didn’t want lie to him, but she hadn’t been ready to share about her family, her past, and the ongoing investigation into her parents’ company and business partner.

  “Well—” Trent stopped talking as if he realized how little he knew about her past.

  Millicent gasped. “You mean you don’t know anything about her either?”

  “Of course I know her,” he said. But even Holly heard the waver in his voice.

  “I’m sorry. Why don’t we talk about something else.”

  Holly breathed slow and deep, fighting off the crushing heartbreak and the rising rage. Millicent had played Trent, leading him to this point in the conversation like a master. She walked him to the brink of the cliff and left him to doubt Holly and his relationship with her.

  Muffins looked up at her, questioning, growling.

  “What a brilliant idea, Muffins.” Holly plucked him out of her large bag. “You know I don’t normally condone this sort of behavior but you know what to do.”

  He barked in response just loud enough that several of the patrons looked over. Her waitress, behind the bar looked too, her gaze narrowing in on the dog.

  “Now or never.” Without regret, Holly gently tossed him over the top of her seat.

  She heard Millicent’s gasp and cry. She heard the clatter and shatter of glasses as they rolled to the floor. She heard Muffins growl.

  “He’s going to attack me!” Millicent cried.

  The waitress rushed over, the manager right behind her. Holly stood as they reached the scene. She stifled a giggle and the stain of purple on Millicent’s sleeveless white blouse, then said, gushing, “Oh, I’m so sorry. My dog must’ve smelled your food. Normally, he’s so obedient. He usually likes everyone.”

  The waitress eyed her. “You brought in a dog?”