The Christmas Fair Killer

by Amy Patricia Meade

  ‘Is that why you left?’

  ‘I didn’t want to leave Frances, I really didn’t, but I couldn’t stand to look at her – not because of what she’d done, but because of what I did to push her there. Looking at Frances reminded me of the woman I married and was now gone. The hopeful, feisty, strong young actress I’d fallen in love with was now a desperate, bitter person begging for my attention and lashing out at a young woman she thought had stolen my heart. And Jenny had stolen it, in a way,’ Ted went on to concede. ‘Until … well, until I finally realized that she didn’t care for me at all. She was playing me the same way she’d played the rest of them.’

  As Ted threw his hands over his eyes, Tish ventured into the kitchenette and put on a kettle of water. For reasons unknown, she had stashed a bunch of tea bags in her coat pockets that had now proven to come in handy.

  Ted sank deeper into the recliner. ‘I was such a fool. Such a fool. I love Frances. I’ve always loved Frances. We just fell into a rut. A rut I propagated with my personal obsessions with guns and historic battles and the group’s marketing. Marketing,’ he scoffed. ‘Whatever that means.’

  The kettle, bearing just one mug’s worth of water, quickly came to a boil. Tish poured its contents into the first clean vessel she could find – a circa-1980s’ Walt Disney World mug with a handle shaped like Mickey Mouse’s ears – plopped in a tea bag, and presented it to Ted.

  ‘The past is past, Ted. What matters is the future,’ Tish advised as she leaned against the wall near the recliner and folded her arms across her chest.

  ‘What future? I doubt Frances ever wants to see me again.’

  ‘I don’t think that’s true. It’s all too fresh for decisions like that. Now, drink some tea and eat something,’ she insisted.

  A pouting Ted capitulated and, setting the mug of tea on a nearby table, opened the lid of his breakfast and helped himself to a bite of hash browns. ‘Mmm, these are really good. Frances always tries to make them, but she adds too much onion for my liking. Not that I’ve told her. I’ve always been afraid of hurting her feelings.’

  ‘Well, I certainly wouldn’t tell her now,’ Tish noted, eliciting a vague smile from Ted.

  ‘No, I suppose not,’ he chuckled.

  ‘When do you plan on talking to Frances?’

  ‘I don’t know. I thought maybe I should wait until she talks to me. I don’t want to upset her any more than I’ve already done.’

  Tish shook her head in disapproval. ‘It’s your decision, of course, but I think you should make the first move. You said yourself you’ve been absent from your relationship.’

  ‘And neglectful,’ Ted added.

  ‘That’s why you need to talk to her as soon as possible. Apologize for the past. Let her know you recognize what you’ve done. Then talk about the future and what you plan to do to ensure her happiness.’

  ‘Do you think it will work? Do you think I can make it up to her?’

  ‘I honestly don’t know. I don’t have a say in this. It’s completely between the two of you. However, I will say that with the end of the fair in sight, and the group breaking for the holidays, it might be a good time to work on resolutions for the New Year.’

  ‘You’re right, and we’re stuck here for a little while longer, according to your sheriff,’ Ted stated as he munched pensively on his breakfast. ‘A few extra days in our Winnebago, with no shows to perform, would give us plenty of time to try to hash things out.’

  Tish was uncertain that a few days spent camping out at the Hobson Glen Recreation Park was sufficient time to address years’ worth of marital issues, but she said nothing. Ted was hopeful and determined to save his and Frances’s marriage and that, in itself, was enough.

  TWENTY-TWO

  Tish walked back to her booth only to find Schuyler, zipped into his suede jacket and jeans, seated on the hood of her car. In his right hand, he held a cup of coffee. In his left, he clutched a wax paper bag.

  ‘Hey, you,’ she greeted.

  ‘Hey, yourself.’

  Tish threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

  ‘Was that for me or the coffee I brought you?’ he asked.

  ‘Both.’ She grinned as she took the insulated cup off his hands and drew a sip.

  ‘Just wait until you see what else I have for you,’ he teased.

  ‘I already know what you have,’ she smirked before kissing him again.

  ‘Oh, yeah, well there is that, but there’s also this.’ He opened the bag to reveal a heap of golden scrambled eggs and sliced avocado wedged between two slices of multigrain sourdough bread.

  ‘Ooh! With wholegrain mustard?’ she asked excitedly.

  ‘Enough to make your eyes water. Just the way you like it.’ He passed the bag to her and they stepped into the booth. Tish switched on the electric generator that powered Jules’s tiny space heater and set her sandwich down on the counter.

  ‘What a nice surprise. How did you know I hadn’t eaten breakfast?’

  ‘I looked for you at the café. MJ told me you’d already left and that you hadn’t eaten anything. She made me promise I’d bring that to you.’

  ‘I’m grateful. For the sandwich and the messenger.’ She sunk her teeth into her breakfast. ‘Mmm. Was there a reason you stopped by the café?’

  ‘Missed you, that’s all. I wish you could have stayed with me last night, but I also understand how much work you have on your hands right now.’

  ‘I wish I could have stayed with you, too.’ Tish embraced him and buried her head in his shoulder.

  ‘Everything OK?’ he asked.

  ‘Yeah, I just got a little unnerved last night and turned on every single light in the building.’ She laughed at herself and wandered back to her sandwich.

  ‘Did something happen?’

  ‘No, I’m just overtired. Sheriff Reade had cautioned me against investigating the Inkpen case a few days ago, and I let my imagination build on it.’ She took another bite of sandwich.

  ‘He may be right, you know. His job is to protect the public. He wouldn’t say something like that to scare you.’

  ‘I know,’ Tish acknowledged. ‘It’s all been fine, though. And, as of right now, I’m officially done with the case. Breakfast has been delivered and, with the exception of serving members of the group some afternoon and evening refreshments right here at the booth, I’ll have little to no contact with any of them.’

  ‘And tonight you’re home with me,’ he added as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer.

  ‘I can’t wait.’ She placed her hands on the back of his shoulders. ‘Oh, I do have to come back for a bit tomorrow to empty this place and bring my gear back to the shop.’

  ‘I’ll come with you to help. After we drop everything off at the café, we’ll go hunting for that Christmas tree. I did some Googling and there’s a farm a few miles outside of town where you can cut down your own.’

  ‘I would love that.’

  ‘Good. I’ll bring my saw. I was also thinking about that indoor picnic we talked about. You’ll be tired and hungry after the fair, so why don’t we move it to tonight? Then, tomorrow, I can cook you up that salmon and couscous dish you like so much.’

  ‘How could I resist an invitation like that?’

  ‘Well, you could, but I’m glad you didn’t.’

  ‘Never. I’m looking at tonight and tomorrow as a romantic getaway, even though we’re not really getting away.’

  ‘Hey, I’m totally down with a stay-cation, especially when that stay-cation is spent preparing for our first Christmas together.’

  ‘First Christmas,’ Tish repeated. ‘After my divorce, I never dreamed I’d spend a “first Christmas” with anyone ever again. The crazy part is, I was fine with that. I enjoyed the decorating and the baking for friends and coworkers, but the day itself had always felt a bit anticlimactic, so I didn’t mind spending it on my own. Not that I always was alone, mind you. One year, Mary Jo’s parents flew in
from California, so I was invited to Christmas dinner. And another year, I accompanied Jules to his mother’s house in West Virginia. That was a trip!’

  ‘Is Jules like his mother?’

  ‘A complete chip off the block. Sassy, energetic, sweet, and an utter hoot.’

  ‘Sounds like you had some fun holidays.’

  ‘I did.’ She smiled as she stared off into the distance. ‘But I’m excited about our holiday. Spending some quiet cozy time with you before Christmas, decorating the tree, enjoying the glow of the lights, taking stock of all the good things that happened to me this year. And I’m actually excited for Christmas itself. I feel badly about Mary Jo and the kids being without Glen this year, but I’m glad to have my makeshift family around me. I’m going to spoil the kids while they’re still technically kids, revel in every swear word Jules utters while losing at charades, guide Mary Jo into her new life, and take every opportunity to kiss you under the mistletoe.’

  ‘There’s mistletoe hanging at the café?’

  ‘Not yet, but there will be.’ She bit into her sandwich.

  ‘Let’s make that our first stop after clearing out the booth tomorrow,’ Schuyler directed.

  ‘Sure.’ Tish laughed. ‘I’m even excited about bringing Enid Kemper a turkey dinner.’

  ‘She still won’t join us?’

  ‘Nope. Mary Jo’s asking her again today, but so far she hasn’t wavered. Not much else I can do except pretend we have too much food and bring her a plate.’

  Tish and Schuyler were interrupted by the arrival of Jules’s Mini Cooper. Bringing the vehicle to a stop alongside Tish’s Matrix, Jules turned off the motor and emerged from the driver’s door. Although he was dressed in his customary parka, a pair of oversized sunglasses obscured his face, and his hair – Jules’s pride and glory – was uncharacte‌ristically tucked under a Fair Isle knit stocking hat and topped with the parka hood. He grabbed Biscuit in his ugly Christmas sweater and stepped into the booth.

  ‘Morning, Jules,’ Schuyler greeted.

  ‘That’s an interesting look,’ Tish noted. ‘Did you dress yourself according to your conflicting weather reports?’

  ‘Cute,’ he deadpanned. ‘I have more to worry about than a few weather-reporting gaffes. I’ve gone viral.’

  ‘Do you need a ride to Henrico Doctors’ Hospital?’ Schuyler offered. ‘I’m headed that way to do some shopping.’

  ‘Y’all are too funny,’ Jules complained. ‘Listen, this is a legitimate crisis. That YouTube video of my hat catching on fire has over fifty thousand views. It’s on Facebook and Twitter and even Snapchat. Actually, I don’t do Snapchat, so I’m not sure about that one, but I’m willing to bet it’s there.’

  ‘But that’s good news, isn’t it?’ Tish asked. ‘That means publicity for you and the station.’

  ‘Too much publicity. I never thought I’d say such a thing, but it’s true. I’ve gotten so many calls and texts from news agencies requesting comment that I’ve had to shut off my phone.’

  ‘And wear a disguise?’

  ‘Yes. I’m here to serve drinks, not talk to curiosity-seekers. The only way to do that is to obscure my natural good looks.’

  Tish was going to make a snide remark, but she thought she’d given Jules enough teasing. ‘Well, if you need to answer some of those calls, I don’t mind you taking some time off.’

  ‘Thanks, but I really don’t have the energy to wade through all those messages. Besides, I called my boss and they’re assigning someone to handle media requests on my behalf.’

  ‘That should help ease some pressure,’ Schuyler stated.

  ‘It already has,’ Jules explained. ‘But I still need to keep a low profile. Otherwise, this booth will be overrun with locals wanting my autograph.’

  ‘Do people collect autographs of internet celebrities?’ Tish challenged. ‘Wouldn’t they just take a selfie with them?’

  ‘Selfies, autographs – does it really matter?’ Jules waved his left hand wildly. In his right he still cradled Biscuit. ‘Now, my crew will be here again tonight at five.’

  ‘Oh, Jules, I really don’t think that’s such a good idea. As much as I appreciate you trying to help my business, between your coverage of the murder and now your viral video, I think you have enough going on without doing a segment on me and the café.’

  ‘You? Oh, no, honey. The crew isn’t here to cover you. Your story got bumped so that they can cover me.’

  ‘You? But you already work for Channel Ten. What’s there for them to cover?’

  ‘My meteoric rise in YouTube fame, of course. Since Channel Ten is my home, they have the exclusive.’

  Even though Tish hadn’t actually wanted to be on camera, the thought that her story had been bumped still nettled. ‘I’ve been bumped?’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Jules reassured her. ‘Stories get bumped all the time. It all depends upon what our station manager thinks people will find most interesting.’

  ‘We live in a town of ten thousand people. How many interesting stories can there be?’

  Jules shrugged.

  ‘Oh, come on now, Jules,’ Schuyler jumped into the fray. ‘You’re not really going to serve customers in that get-up, are you?’

  ‘Schuyler has a point,’ Tish agreed. ‘You look like some sort of Yuletide Uni-bomber.’

  ‘You’re just jealous,’ Jules replied cattily.

  ‘I’m not jealous,’ she insisted, even though a tiny part of her was. ‘You just look a bit … creepy.’

  ‘I admit, the look is a bit off-putting, but I have no choice. It would be bedlam otherwise.’

  ‘Are people really that dazzled by internet stars?’ Tish questioned.

  Before Jules could answer, a familiar voice called across the fairground lawn. ‘Mornin’, everybody. Mornin’, Jules,’ Celestine Rufus greeted as she wheeled a hand-truck bearing the day’s fresh cakes toward the booth. ‘You, sir, are in serious demand. All my grandbabies are askin’ for your autograph. And they want to stop by later to have their photos taken with you, if that’s OK.’

  ‘It would be my pleasure,’ Jules announced as he grabbed a pen and a pad of paper from Celestine and passed Biscuit to Tish in order to free up his writing hand.

  Tish clutched the dog close to her chest and stroked his silky white hair. ‘Don’t worry, Biscuit,’ she cooed into his ear. ‘You’re not the first child to be pushed aside by a celebrity parent. In a few years, when you’re older, we’ll write a tell-all book together and entitle it Doggy Daddy Dearest.’

  Jules was about to retaliate when the sound of a bicycle bell rang through the frosty air. Opal Schaeffer peddled toward the booth, coming to a stop beside Celestine. ‘Happy Sunday, everyone. Oh, that’s a perfect shot!’

  Hopping off the seat and leaning the bicycle against the side of the booth, Opal pulled her phone from her coat pocket and began snapping photos of Jules. ‘Absolutely perfect!’ she exclaimed. ‘I can picture the story now. Hot new celebrity hunk is seduced by the dark side of Hollywood until a bold, brave, gorgeous young woman comes along to tame the bad boy and help him to find his true self.’

  Jules wrinkled his nose. ‘Woman?’

  ‘That works even better. A bold, brave, handsome young man comes along to tame the bad boy and help him to find his true self.’

  ‘This handsome young man – is he also Italian and rich?’

  ‘I was thinking more in terms of a conflicted Scotsman.’

  ‘Does he wear a kilt?’

  ‘He might,’ Opal allowed.

  Jules looked up from his autographs. ‘Deal.’

  ‘Groovy,’ she declared and snapped away. Upon capturing the desired shot, Opal replaced her phone in her pocket and retrieved a heavy canvas bag from the front basket of her bicycle. ‘Tish, I have that produce I told you about.’

  ‘You needn’t have rushed,’ Tish said.

  ‘Oh, but I did. These were ready to harvest, and I needed to bring them in before last night’s free
ze. Fewer plants to cover that way,’ Opal explained. ‘Besides, I know how you like to tinker with recipes on your day off.’

  Opal loved when her produce was used in Tish’s recipe experiments, not least because those experiments were quite often vegetarian and she was typically one of the first taste-testers.

  ‘Come on back,’ Tish invited her inside the booth, prompting Schuyler to make his leave.

  ‘Do you need my help with anything?’ he asked.

  ‘No, there’s a fair amount to do before opening, but with Jules and Celestine here, I should be fine.’

  ‘I don’t mind pitching in, either,’ Opal offered as she scooted past Schuyler and warmed her hands over the space heater.

  ‘Thanks, Opal,’ Tish stated appreciatively.

  ‘Since it appears that you’re in good hands, this elf is heading into Richmond to pick up some treats for the next two days. Does anyone need anything while I’m there?’

  ‘Nope, all my shopping’s done, dusted, and wrapped, and my pocketbook’s empty,’ Celestine answered.

  ‘I made all my gifts this year,’ Opal announced.

  Tish winced slightly. She hoped she would not be receiving one of Opal’s homemade aphrodisiac bath bombs, dubbed “sex bombs” by the author, in her stocking this year.

  Jules beckoned to Schuyler. ‘There’s a cute little cosmetics shop on Huguenot Street that sells Kiehl’s products. Would you mind picking me up some of their ultra facial cream? This winter air is so harsh and drying, and I need to look good on camera.’

  ‘Sure,’ Schuyler agreed.

  ‘You’re a peach. I’ll give you my credit card for the cream and some cash for gas.’ He reached into the inside of his jacket for his wallet.

  ‘Um, I’m an attorney, Jules,’ he reminded. ‘I’m not signing your name for a credit card purchase. And I filled my car up only just yesterday, so how about we settle up later?’

  ‘That would be ideal. I’m simply up to my eyeballs at the moment.’

  ‘Yes, I understand. Well, bye, everyone. Have a good day.’ Schuyler turned to Tish, his eyes wide and unblinking.

  Tish nestled Biscuit into his heated dog bed and, linking her arm in Schuyler’s, escorted him to his BMW. ‘I’m sorry Jules treated you as a member of staff.’