Trick or Deceit Page 23

  “Well, he should.”

  “Yes, well. You should accept his apology.”

  “I might, when I’m not so mad at him. Now, I really have to go.”

  “We’ll take care of Whiskey.”

  “Thanks. I’ll see you later.”

  “Liv, angry people are not always wise.”

  Liv nodded and kept walking.

  When she reached the museum, she stopped to catch her breath. Angry people don’t remember to breathe, she thought, paraphrasing Ida’s aphorism.

  She walked up the steps to the porch. A new sign hung over the entranceway. A good omen. She knocked, then stepped inside.

  The place was already busy. She wandered through, taking it all in, thankful for Amanda Marlton-Crosby’s donation and hoping she wouldn’t rescind it in a fit of pique.

  The actors were back, along with half the quilting club and a few others Liv recognized from around town. Barry was rushing from one room to the other, but he stopped when he saw Liv.

  “Almost there,” he said. There were bags under his eyes and his face looked thinner.

  “Are you getting enough sleep?” she asked.

  Barry waved the question away. “I can sleep in November.”

  She laughed. She would be getting ready for the Pilgrim Dinner for Thanksgiving, the scene of way too many people last year. They’d had to move it to the basement of two downtown churches. Then there was Christmas . . .

  “We’re on track to open Saturday.”

  “That’s great.” One less thing for her to worry about. “Are you going to take time to go to the zombie parade?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it. I’ll be the zombie wearing a sandwich board that announces the grand opening of the Museum of Yankee Horrors.”

  Liv gave him a thumbs-up, waved at the seamstresses, said hi to a couple of the actors, and started to leave. Just as she reached the door, a hand grabbed her arm.

  She turned around.

  Marla Jean Higgins, dressed in a bloody wedding dress, her face made nearly white with makeup and deep red lips, pouted at Liv.

  “Wow, Marla Jean. You look great.”

  “You got me in trouble,” Marla Jean said. Her voice was flat and Liv wondered if she was in her zombie persona or if maybe she was actually clinically disturbed.

  “I’m sorry. Over the shoes?”

  Marla Jean nodded.

  “How were you to know?” Liv asked. “You found them in your yard, didn’t you?”

  Marla Jean nodded again. “The sheriff came back later and asked me a bunch of questions.”

  “And could you help him out with your information?” Liv edged toward the door.

  Marla Jean frowned. “I dunno. I guess so. Dad was upset.”

  “Well, he’s had a rough week. Why don’t you cut him some slack?”

  “I guess.”

  Liv smiled and headed for the door.

  On her way toward town, she called Fred Hunnicutt for an update on traffic.

  “It’s fine,” he said. “I just told Ted the same thing.”

  “Oh.”

  “Are the two of you going to do two of everything today?”

  “Did he tell you what happened?” Liv stopped at the corner then crossed the street.

  “Yes.” Fred chuckled. “I sure would have liked to have been there. I bet you were mad as a wet hen.”

  “I was,” she agreed. “I still am.”

  “Well, I hope you two make up soon. Doing double the work will get old fast.”

  Liv knew he was right. But she really didn’t want to see any of the culprits.

  She could avoid Chaz with no problem. She should call A.K. to double-check that the extra security people were in place along the parade route. But she still couldn’t believe A.K. had been a part of the nonsense last night.

  Besides, Ted would call him. Ted was totally reliable. He wouldn’t be walking around town holding a grudge.

  Then again, Liv would never have spied on him on a date. She didn’t even know if he ever dated.

  Still, she was being irresponsible. She turned toward town. Called Jon at the hotel only to be told he was out. Hopefully, not on his way to jail.

  She bypassed the bakery and the Coffee Exchange and went straight to town hall. Better to get it over with.

  She walked into the office. Ted looked up from his desk. He didn’t say anything, just lifted one eyebrow in question.

  “You’re not forgiven.” Liv walked into her office and shut the door.

  She booted up her computer, checked her voice mails. She heard the outer door close. Ted must have left.

  She pulled up the zombie parade plans.

  Twenty minutes later, the outer door opened. Footsteps sounded across the floor, and Liv braced herself. A knock, and her door opened. Ted walked in with a bakery bag and tea and coffee in cardboard cartons.

  Without a word he sat down, placed a latte in front of her, and handed her a jack-o’-lantern cookie on a napkin.

  She took the cookie.

  Both of Ted’s eyebrows lifted.

  “I’m thawing,” Liv said. “But it will take a while.”

  He nodded and bit into his cookie.

  Chapter Nineteen

  By midafternoon, Liv had forgotten her anger. She had her hands full. The parade was due to start at five, giving them at least a half hour before dark to walk to the band shell. The post office parking lot, where the parade was to begin, was overflowing with the undead, a good half hour before the parade. They had to put latecomers in the back parking lot of town hall.

  There were three large tents at the back of the lot: one for snacks and beverages to keep the waiting ghouls hydrated and hunger-free, a medic station, and a makeup tent, where less creative zombies could pay a couple of dollars to get goreyed up, all proceeds going to the community center fund.

  Liv radioed to A.K. to request more operatives in the holding area.

  He didn’t apologize or sound contrite. Just said, “Copy that.” And signed off. Back to normal, she thought. She still couldn’t believe that he had stooped to the antics of last night. She figured Chaz had been the instigator. It was just like something he would pull, just for the fun of it.

  As the time for the parade drew near, businesses either closed early or ran on a skeleton crew, in some cases literally since the merchants had been dressing in costume since the last zucchini in the Harvest Festival was carted away. Even the ones who stayed open left their counters to watch the parade.

  Yolanda had closed her store, though whether in protest of the zombies or to be able to enjoy the parade, Liv couldn’t begin to guess. Did witches have a sense of humor about Halloween?

  The sidewalks were filled with spectators, and everyone seemed to be in a festive mood. Everyone but Liv. And maybe the witches.

  Halloween was not Liv’s favorite holiday. Too many possibilities for tricks rather than treats. And tricks could easily turn fun into chaos. So today she was on a high state of alert, on the lookout for any problems. She thought she must be like a movie director or a novelist who could never look at other movies or novels without their internal editor clicking on.

  Liv didn’t think she would ever be able to enjoy a holiday without automatically powering up to orange alert.

  She would be keeping both eyes open, though from the looks of things so far, the parade would be a great success. And thankfully it was a short walk from the post office and around the square to the band shell, where costumes would be judged.

  But Chaz had been right about the grass. The paved area in front of the band shell would never accommodate the crowd.

  A trumpet blast alerted everyone to the beginning of the parade. Then a discordant non-tuning of instruments followed as the Celebration Bay Zombie Marching Band tuned up and staggered into po
sition.

  The undead crowded behind them. Pirates with gashes on their faces and hooks for hands; a cheerleader with rubber hatchets—Liv had checked to be sure—rising from each pompom like a flower. There were zombie rock stars, zombie dentists—Liv shivered at that one—zombie firemen, several army zombies. Liv wondered if any of them were A.K.’s men.

  Liv saw Barry as a zombie clown, complete with the sandwich board advertising the museum. Behind him Marla Jean was looking particularly undead in her wedding dress and black veil. At least Liv guessed it was Marla Jean beneath the thick netting. The spookiest participants though were the zombie children, each accompanied by a zombie adult. All of them seemed to be having great fun.

  And the band screeched and clanked as its members limped and dragged their way toward the starting point.

  Liv was contemplating earplugs when the undead drum major blew his whistle and the musicians straightened up; the drummers finally hit a discernible rhythm, and the band marched ahead to the beat of “Thriller,” much to Liv’s relief. The zombies surged forward and the parade “marched” into the street.

  They made it a half block before the band erupted into chaos again, until at the whistle they regrouped and continued on to “Ghostbusters.”

  Ted radioed to Liv that the last of the town hall undead contingent had joined the end of the parade. Behind them a fire engine sounded its siren and took up the rear, all of its zombie firemen waving and throwing candy to the crowds.

  Liv followed along on the far side of the street to make sure they all made it to the band shell.

  At that point, the zombie band would take its place on the stage and play a few Halloween-themed tunes while the judges picked the winners.

  Fortunately tonight no money was involved and there would be plenty of winners.

  As the fire engine passed, kids ran into the street to pick up the extra candy, until they were gathered up and the spectators turned toward the park. It was a mass migration as everyone crowded toward the band shell, pressing forward.

  The band broke into an incongruous “When the Saints Go Marching In.” Someone started singing “when the zombies go marching in.” Pretty soon the whole crowd was singing along. Liv wondered if any of the churches would take umbrage at the new words. All for a good cause, she thought.

  She looked around and didn’t see any uniformed police or recognize any of A.K.’s people, but she knew Bill and A.K. must be somewhere nearby. Fred Hunnicutt’s traffic volunteers were out in full regalia, with Day-Glo vests worn over their zombie costumes.

  Liv had to hand it to her town. They knew how to throw a party and they were generous with their time and their money. And even though she was still angry at three of them, she felt a swell of pride.

  She looked around to see if Jon was anywhere in the crowd. She’d hoped he would enter into the spirit of things, witness firsthand the town’s enthusiasm. But maybe he was sick to death of Celebration Bay. Maybe he was just waiting for his car to be returned before he left town.

  The seven zombie judges with red sashes tied across their chests squeezed through the crowd, picking out winners to stand in front of the band on the stage. Liv looked for Ernie and Barry. She found Barry right away, his sandwich board wedging him into the crowd. Marla Jean and others from the theater group were standing around him.

  But she didn’t see Ernie.

  A figure moving through the crowd caught her eye, dressed all in black. Something seemed familiar about him. And then she recognized him. The Doomsday Man, participating in the zombie parade? What was he doing here? He should be in jail.

  Liv watched him weave through the crowd, lost him for a minute, then saw him emerge from the edge of the crowd. He was moving fairly fast.

  A hundred disasters ran through her head. He’d planted a bomb in one of the trash cans. Or maybe just shoved a bunch of pamphlets at people.

  But it definitely looked like he was leaving in a hurry. Keeping her eye on the man, she pulled out her radio.

  “Bill, come in.” She started after the Doomsday Man.

  Static, then, “Bill here. Over.”

  “I’ve sighted the Doomsday Man moving east out of the crowd. It looks like he’s heading toward the river. No. He’s going past the cemetery. Tell A.K. to look out for anything suspicious he may have left behind.”

  Liv began to run.

  “Liv, where are you?”

  “I’m in pursuit.”

  “Stay put.”

  “No way. I’m sick of this guy. He just turned at the corner.”

  “Which way?”

  “Left. Gotta go.”

  “Liv. Cease and desist. I’m putting some men on it.”

  She reached the corner and saw the man turn again. He must be headed toward Ernie’s. Planning to do a little vandalizing while everyone else is in the square, you jerk? “He’s headed toward Ernie’s.”

  Liv shoved the radio in her messenger bag and turned on the speed.

  Sure enough, when she got to the next corner she saw him standing in Ernie’s yard, fumbling with something in his pocket.

  Liv sprinted toward him.

  He ran up the steps and lifted his arm.

  She was close enough to hear the shatter of glass. And then flames lick out of the window. Damn, what if one of the Boltons was in there?

  He reached in his bag again.

  “Stop! Fire!!” Liv yelled at the top of her lungs, but she didn’t stop running.

  He was trying to light the second device when she reached the yard.

  “Stop!”

  He didn’t stop and Liv bounded up the steps. He threw the device at her, but she managed to duck aside. He lunged past her, knocking her down the steps and onto the sidewalk.

  Everything went black for a moment.

  “Liv! Liv?”

  Liv opened her eyes and Barry Lindquist’s face came into view.

  “Barry?”

  “Are you all right?”

  “That’s it, Mack.” Barry was lifted to his feet. A.K. had him by both arms and looked like he was tempted to break them.

  Liv tried to get up. “It wasn’t Barry. It was the Doomsday Guy. You’re letting him get away!”

  A.K. dropped Barry and reached for his belt, spoke into a cell phone, shoved it back on his belt. “He won’t get far. Are you okay?”

  Liv had made it to a sitting position as several people rushed past her and up the stairs. “I think so.”

  Sirens filled the air. And to think she had questioned letting the firemen be in the parade.

  “See if you can stand.” A.K. offered his hand and stood hovering until she was on both feet.

  “Right as rain,” she said. Her knees were wobbly but she was pretty sure it was from adrenaline.

  The fire engine arrived and the firemen moved everyone out of the way as they pulled a hose up to the porch and began to extinguish the fires.

  The front door opened and Ernie came out. He was carrying a fire extinguisher and his face and clothes were covered in soot.

  One of the firemen helped him down the stairs to the street.

  His face was blank, then it twisted in anger. “You son of a—” Ernie dropped the fire extinguisher and threw himself at Barry, who staggered back. But he was the larger man and he kept his feet until two of the bystanders pulled them apart.

  “You crazy idiot. It wasn’t me.”

  “You thought you’d get back at me, did ya? Well, I didn’t wreck your place.”

  “And I didn’t torch yours. I saw Liv take off like a bat outta hell and thought I better go after her. Then I saw this guy on the porch, then the fire, so I came to help.”

  Ernie scowled at him.

  “That’s the God’s honest truth.”

  “Leave it, Ernie. I think we know who did the vandalizing,�
�� Ted said.

  Liv looked around. “Ted. When did you get here?”

  Actually Ted, A.K., Chaz, and Fred Hunnicutt were all standing in a line watching her. For a second she was completely taken aback. A.K. was the only one not in zombie gear, and to tell the truth, he was frightening enough without the blood and gore.

  Ted was wearing a tuxedo and top hat with bandages wrapped around his head and a butcher knife sticking out of his back. Fred was a zombie farmer with a red kerchief and overalls showing beneath his orange traffic vest. Even Chaz had risen to the occasion, looking a bit like surfer zombie in his normal clothes but with some well-placed splatters of blood, compliments of the makeup tent in the parking lot.

  “What are you all doing here? Who’s looking after the zombies?”

  Chaz broke into a grin. “That’s our girl. All business.”

  “Well, someone has to be. Why are you dressed as a zombie? You said the parade was a stupid idea.”

  “I went undercover.”

  She heard Ted snicker, but when she turned on him, he shook his head and put up his hand.

  “She’s right,” Ted said, gasping for breath between suppressed laughter. “You may have found your calling.”

  Liv rolled her eyes, picked up her bag, and started back up the street, just as the sheriff’s cruiser pulled to the curb and Bill got out.

  “Hey? Where are you going?”

  “Well, somebody has to make sure they’re not rioting in the street.”

  “A.K. and my people have it under control,” Bill said. “Can you answer a few questions?”

  Liv frowned. “Depends.”

  Bill’s eyebrows quirked.

  “On whether the questions are along the line of ‘What the heck did you think you were doing?’ or ‘Could you give us an account of what happened?’”

  “Ah.” Bill looked around the group. “The latter.” He fought a smile but gave in. “And a little of the former.”

  “What happened? I’ll tell you what happened,” Ernie snapped. “Someone tried to torch my haunted house.” He took a threatening step toward Barry.

  “Cut it out, Ernie. It wasn’t me,” Barry said. “Bill, when we were all at the band shell, I stepped out of the crowd to get rid of this dang sandwich board and I see Liv here start running down the street. Then I get that she’s chasing someone.”