The Christmas Fair Killer

by Amy Patricia Meade

  ‘Then it wasn’t a completely unreasonable request,’ Tish assessed.

  ‘Not completely. As I said, the timing was poor, but I don’t think less of someone with ambition. I might have even negotiated a pay raise – without the partnership – for next season, had she not said what she said next.’

  Tish raised a questioning eyebrow.

  Rolly accommodated. ‘When I tried to put Jenny off a pay increase by saying I didn’t have enough cash in the budget, she suggested I get rid of Justin Dange.’

  ‘Justin?’ Tish was genuinely surprised.

  ‘Yeah, I was surprised, too. I knew they’d broken up and all, but he was the one who got her the spot here. He also defended Jenny against Frances and anyone else who badmouthed her.’

  ‘Did Jenny give a reason for wanting Justin gone?’

  ‘She said he made her feel uncomfortable.’

  ‘Because they were exes?’

  ‘She didn’t elaborate, but I got the feeling it went deeper than that.’

  ‘Deeper?’

  ‘Yeah, just from the way she said it. What she meant, specifically, I have no idea.’

  ‘Do you think perhaps Jenny wanted to get back at Justin?’

  ‘Maybe, but why? She broke up with him, not the other way around. And as far as I could see, Justin had accepted that.’

  ‘So he wasn’t at all hostile?’

  ‘Hostile? Justin? Nah. You saw how he defended Jenny just the other night. No, never Justin. I’ve known him since he was a scrawny college kid. We all have. There’s no way he would have done anything to harm Jenny. No way in hell. It was one of the primary reasons I hired Justin. He was a decent actor, of course, and good-looking, but what really appealed to me was his good nature and earnestness. He wanted to learn everything we could teach him about theater, and so I started him at the bottom and let him work his way up. Didn’t matter what task we gave him, he never complained. He’s still the same way – a true gentleman.’ Rolly sighed. ‘Jenny. I hired Jenny because she had the gift – that innate theatrical sense that merely needs a bit of guidance to find its true course. It was like an answer to a prayer. I was desperate to give a jolt to ticket sales and, suddenly, there she was. Someone young, talented, and beautiful. The perfect thing to breathe new life into our performances and our box office.’

  ‘Was business slow at the time?’

  ‘No, on the contrary, we were doing quite well. We’d built ourselves up to the point where each of us would bring home between forty and forty-five thousand dollars a year. Not a salary that will allow for cruises and vacations, but not shabby for an independent theater company.’

  ‘Not shabby at all, considering we’re in the digital age.’

  ‘We’ve had to be both flexible and creative in order to navigate that one. No doubt about it, art is highly devalued in our current world. Free music streaming, YouTube, audience members filming your performance with their phones and sharing it on social media. It’s difficult to earn a decent living while trying to provide families with reasonably priced live entertainment, but we’ve managed so far. Keeping our fees low, cutting them completely for small events and venues and, instead, taking a cut of the gate. It’s been a tough climb, but we’ve done it. Even with that success, I wanted to do better.’ Rolly went on to explain. ‘I wanted to give us all a cushion; a little extra cash after paying the bills and the health insurance premiums.’ He tucked into his stew and added quietly, ‘I also wanted to set some money aside so I could finally marry Edie.’

  ‘Congratulations,’ Tish extended.

  ‘Thanks, but I haven’t asked her yet. I wanted enough money in the bank to give her the wedding and life of her dreams. A designer wedding gown, a honeymoon in Paris, and the assurance that she could focus her attention on her designs instead of being the group’s resident dam-plugger.’

  ‘So you know,’ she asserted.

  ‘Know what? That Edie’s happiest when in front of her sketchbook and sewing machine? Yes, I’ve known that all along. I’ve always loved her for it. Her artistry, her focus, her generosity in giving her time to the group when she’d much rather be doing something else.’ Rolly jolted to life. ‘Have you seen the dressmaker dummies?’

  Tish laughed. ‘Yes. Yes, the designs are wonderful but …’

  ‘But not exactly a mood-enhancing addition to a bedroom.’

  ‘No, I wouldn’t want to wake up to them at three in the morning.’

  ‘Neither would I, but I would if I absolutely had to, just to be near Edie. Those dummies were in my plan, too. A bigger apartment back home and a larger camper so she could have her own workspace. All of those things require cash.’

  ‘And what about Jenny?’

  ‘What about her?’

  ‘Not to cause trouble between you and Edie, but she just told me that she thought – and still thinks – that you were in love with Jenny.’

  ‘I was appreciative of Jenny’s talent and, yes, she was young and pretty, but my heart never once wavered from Edie. There was, I admit, a time when I enjoyed Jenny’s flattery and sharing knowledge about our craft, but when I saw the divisiveness she sowed, that all faded away. Pretty soon, I began to wish that Jenny had never joined our little group. I began to wish that we’d never met her at all.’

  SIXTEEN

  ‘You look like a landlady who’s come to collect the rent,’ Justin Dange noted as Tish entered his trailer bearing her insulated food delivery bag.

  ‘Hmm? Oh, it’s been a long day,’ she remarked as she extracted a cardboard container and a wax paper parcel from the bag and handed them to Justin. ‘Jacob Marley’s bean and barley, and a turkey and cheddar sandwich.’

  ‘Thanks for letting me order from the lunch menu.’ He grabbed the food containers and placed them on the foldaway kitchenette table before taking a seat. He was wrapped in a heavy fleece robe over a white T-shirt and a pair of track pants. ‘I couldn’t stomach a big portion of beef stew before tonight’s show. But maybe afterwards?’

  ‘I’ll save you some,’ she promised. ‘So, how are you doing?’

  ‘As long as I’m busy on stage, I’m fine. Waiting around here for the next curtain call is difficult. My mind automatically goes to Jenny. I’m sorry I ever brought her to Williamsburg. Sorry I suggested she join the group. If I hadn’t, Jenny might still be alive, and our group wouldn’t have become so divided.’

  Justin’s words of regret were startlingly similar to Rolly’s. ‘You did what you thought was right at the time.’

  ‘Did I? Or did I do what was right for me?’ he sneered. ‘Did I bring Jenny back because I couldn’t bear to leave her on the street? Or because I simply couldn’t leave her?’

  Something about the line of questioning harkened back to Opal Schaeffer’s words about men wanting to possess beautiful women. Had Justin been clinging and controlling? Was that why Jenny wanted him out of the group? ‘Justin, Rolly told me that Jenny tried to get you fired.’

  ‘What? That’s a lie. That’s an utter and complete lie!’

  ‘What reason would Rolly have to lie?’ she challenged.

  Justin fell silent.

  ‘Jenny told Rolly that being around you made her feel uncomfortable. Why would she say that?’ Tish asked.

  He burst into nervous laughter. ‘I was her ex. Of course things were awkward.’

  ‘Rolly believes she meant something other than simple awkwardness.’

  ‘He would, wouldn’t he? He’s always been suspicious.’

  ‘He actually spoke out on your behalf.’

  ‘OK,’ he capitulated after a drawn-out sigh. ‘Things between Jenny and me got a little heated last week. I lost my temper, which I rarely do. I wasn’t thinking straight and made a scene and grabbed her by the wrist. I didn’t grab her tightly, but it was wrong. Entirely wrong and I hated myself immediately for doing it, but … there it is.’

  ‘You became angry because Jenny had broken up with you,’ Tish surmised.

  ‘N
o, not at all. I’d accepted the breakup months ago. I realized, for starters, that Jenny should have been with someone younger. I also understood Jenny had difficulties maintaining close relationships, so I did what I could to maintain a friendship. What I was angry about was Jenny leaving the group.’

  ‘Jenny was leaving?’ Tish feigned ignorance.

  ‘Yes, she had an audition booked for over the Christmas break. I was furious. She’d only been here eight months and she was already looking to cut ties and, in her words, move on to bigger things. Bigger things,’ he scoffed. ‘She was finally earning a decent wage, could afford decent clothes, and had a roof of her own over her head, rather than a shelter. Most of all, she was safe here. Or so I thought.’

  ‘Was there something in particular Jenny needed to be safe from?’

  ‘The world. Life on the streets. Her own past. I’d intended this to be a new life for Jenny, but she treated it, me, us, as mere stepping stones.’

  ‘How did you find out she was leaving?’ Tish asked.

  ‘She told me. Bragged about it even. Well, “brag” might not be the most accurate term. She taunted me with the fact she was leaving. That she was getting out and moving on, while I was still stuck here. As if I ever felt stuck. The group nurtured me when I was younger, and they continue to do so every day. I admit I wouldn’t mind branching out now and then, spending a few weeks playing with a group that puts on less family-friendly fare, but there’s a way to do so without burning bridges. Jenny wasn’t even going to give Rolly notice. After all he did for her, she was just going to vanish without a word.’

  ‘Is that when you lost your temper and grabbed her?’

  ‘No. I was angry, but I still managed to hold myself together. It was when Jenny started trashing other members of the group. The things she said were so cruel. So vile.’

  ‘What did she say?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter now. It’s over,’ he sulked.

  ‘It’s far from over. Jenny’s killer is still roaming free.’

  ‘Jenny trashed the group. Called it third-rate. Then she went on to say that she owed nothing to Rolly because he didn’t want to make her a partner in the group, and probably only hired her because she was hot.’ Justin looked Tish in the eye. ‘I can assure you, that wasn’t the case. Rolly’s not that type of guy. And Jenny was genuinely talented, so she didn’t need a hand-out.’

  ‘And that infuriated you?’ Tish posed.

  ‘No, she—’ Justin took a moment to compose himself. ‘After calling Ted Fenton boring and Frances Fenton a busybody – fair assessments, but not her place to say anything about – she went after Lucinda. Jenny called her a has-been and a whore who’d slept her way into the group. She even went as far as to say Lucinda had a secret child somewhere. Lucinda! So kind, so beautiful, so graceful. She’d never been anything less than kind to Jenny and that’s how Jenny repaid her. That’s when I grabbed Jenny by the wrist in a stupid attempt to snap some sense into her. I shouldn’t have done it. I’m ashamed that it happened, but you have to understand that Lucinda didn’t deserve that. None of it. Not a single word.’

  SEVENTEEN

  In the short time Tish had been gone, the sun had set and the fairgrounds had transformed into a magical fairyland of holiday lights and old-fashioned gas lanterns. As Santa arrived on stage, accompanied by the Hobson Glen Fire Department, Tish returned to the booth to find a small crowd of people huddled at the counter, ordering hot drinks, cakes, and the odd sandwich. The dinner rush was still an hour away.

  ‘I’m back, girls,’ she announced to Celestine and Mary Jo. ‘Which of you would like to take a break first?’

  ‘Break?’ Mary Jo questioned.

  ‘Yes, you should both take a breather before the dinner crowd gets here. I’ll cover for you.’

  Celestine laughed. ‘Darlin’, that ain’t happenin’. You’re needed elsewhere.’ She jabbed an index finger toward the area just beyond the front of the booth where Jules, his elf’s hat pinned securely to his head and Biscuit, in his Santa suit, tucked beneath one arm, was conducting a sound check with the Channel Ten news camera crew.

  ‘What? Is it time for that already?’

  Celestine and Mary Jo nodded in unison.

  ‘Tish,’ Jules shouted. ‘Get over here. You’re on in ten minutes.’

  ‘But I can’t do that now,’ Tish protested to Celestine and Mary Jo. ‘There’s too much going on. You both need your breaks and I need to get ready for the dinner rush.’

  ‘You can’t back out. Do you know what this might mean for your business?’ Mary Jo urged.

  ‘You have to do it, sugar,’ Celestine cajoled. ‘You don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. My uncle Clyde did once, and it kicked him in the head.’

  ‘OK, but when I get back, you’re both taking a break,’ she vowed before joining Jules.

  ‘Oh, honey. You look plumb tuckered out,’ Jules lamented upon her arrival.

  ‘It’s been a hectic day.’ She combed her hair with her fingers self-consciously.

  ‘No worries. I have a solution. Destiny,’ he summoned.

  An impeccably made-up dark-skinned woman in her mid-twenties answered his call.

  ‘You know what to do. Work your magic,’ he instructed.

  Destiny pulled a series of cosmetic palettes and brushes from a blue train case and began utilizing them on Tish’s face.

  Tish was caught off guard. ‘You have a makeup artist on staff?’

  ‘We do now. Just hired her last week at my prompting. I told my boss that we may be small-town, but we shouldn’t be that small-town.’

  As the cosmetologist applied a layer of ivory foundation, Tish assessed the outfit she had selected for the day. ‘I wish I was slightly better dressed.’

  ‘You look fine. The apron advertises your business and your coat and hat make you look chic, yet approachable. And if there are a couple of splotches on that apron, that’s good. You’ve been dishing up scrummy food all day.’

  ‘Maybe, but I would have prepared more for my first television appearance. A haircut, a new outfit, or maybe a different coat, or I might have visited that new brow bar that opened at the back of the nail salon. I hear a lot of women talking about it.’

  ‘Brow bar? Oh, no, honey. Why would you do that? First off, you’re blonde. You have no eyebrows.’

  Tish wrinkled her forehead and cast her eyes heavenward to ensure her eyebrows hadn’t suddenly disappeared. She couldn’t see them, of course, but she was reasonably certain that they did, indeed, exist, even if in some vague form.

  ‘Second,’ Jules continued, ‘their stylists’ mission is to try to make your brows thicker and stand out from your face, so you have a menu of shapes to choose from, but all of them leave you looking either like a Kardashian or Ernest Borgnine. There’s not much middle ground.’

  Tish frowned. An eyebrow menu? The most she ever did was use a pencil to cover a few random gray hairs. Apart from that, she didn’t give her brows much thought apart from their biological usefulness in protecting the eyes from sweat or dirt.

  ‘And third, even though the word “bar” is in the title, I was horrified to learn that not a single drop of booze is available on the premises. Not a single drop. That’s false advertising.’

  ‘You mean you’ve been to the new brow bar?’

  ‘Yes, I took Mrs Wilkes there the other day. She wanted to treat herself for Christmas, but I’m not sure about the results. She’s happy with them, but I think they’re arched too severely. Every time I look at her, I think she’s asking me a question that I somehow didn’t hear.’ Jules looked at his phone. ‘Almost show time. A little “jhooze” to her hair and I think we’re good to go, Destiny.’

  Destiny pulled a bottle of golden oil from her train case and rubbed a few drops between her hands. ‘You have a bit of frizz,’ she said as she massaged the oil through Tish’s hair with her fingers. ‘Don’t worry. That’s normal for women your age. It means your hair is drying out and turning gr
ay.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Tish replied. In twenty years her transformation to poodle-headed crone would be complete, but it was comforting to know it was ‘normal.’

  ‘Tish,’ a man’s voice shouted from the crowd that had gathered around the news crew. It was Schuyler, dressed in a casual Saturday ensemble of jeans, a fleece-lined tan suede jacket, tan work boots, and burgundy scarf. ‘Break a leg,’ he wished as he moved to the front of the crowd and blew her a kiss.

  Tish returned the kiss with one of her own and stepped on to the spot Jules had designated for their interview. Blinded by the lights, Tish listened as the camera operator counted down from ten and shouted, ‘Action!’

  Tish smiled and watched as Jules gave his introduction, bracing herself for her first interview question. Oh, how she hated public speaking.

  ‘The Twentieth Annual Hobson Glen Holiday Fair is in full swing. It’s been three days of fun, festivities, theater, and food, but it’s not over yet! There’s still one more day to go before this year’s fair is one for the books.’

  The pom-pom on Jules’s hat bobbed to and fro as its owner spoke animatedly. ‘Speaking of books,’ Jules segued, ‘I’m here with Tish Tarragon, owner of Cookin’ the Books Café. Tish has brought her literary-inspired recipes to the fair for an extremely worthy cause: literacy.’

  At the word ‘literacy,’ the pom-pom on Jules’s green elf’s hat swung into the flame of a nearby gas lantern and ignited.

  Jules, however, was blissfully unaware of the fire burning at the top of his head. ‘Tish, tell us about your program to promote proper nutrition and healthy reading habits.’ He thrust the microphone in Tish’s face.

  ‘I–I–I,’ Tish stuttered, temporarily hypnotized by the flames. ‘Jules, your hat is on fire.’

  Jules glanced at the camera and chuckled. ‘That’s just the reflection of the camera light in the gas lamp. Now, let’s get back to the library initiative.’