Foul Play at the Fair Page 8
Ted snorted.
Janine glared at him.
Next to Liv, Chaz Bristow seemed to have fallen asleep.
“I just hope she hasn’t caused irrevocable harm. How do we even know she’ll stick it out—providing we allow her to stay on.”
They all looked toward Liv.
“Signed a contract,” Chaz said without opening his eyes.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Janine said. “Anyone can break a contract. She’s created a mess and she’ll leave us high and dry. You mark my words. She won’t last until Christmas. Then where will we be?”
Chaz sat up. “I for one will be glad for the peace and quiet. Are we going to vote on something? Because if we’re here just to listen to Janine rant, I’ve got a paper to put out.”
“Actually, there is another reason I asked you all here,” the mayor said.
“Bet he didn’t invite Janine,” Chaz said under his breath.
Liv glanced at him, but his eyes were closed.
“I know he didn’t,” Ted answered on her other side.
Liv twisted her head toward Ted, but he was looking straight ahead, the picture of the attentive assistant.
Great, thought Liv. She was getting a play-by-play commentary in stereo.
The mayor cleared his throat. “Bill Gunnison has asked to speak at the committee meeting this evening.” His Adam’s apple jumped as he swallowed. “He’s going to ask that anyone with information about the, uh, incident come forward.”
“Meaning he don’t have a clue.” Roscoe nodded wisely.
“It was probably one of the itinerants,” Rufus added. “Don’t see how we can stop things like that from happening.”
“If I may,” said Liv at her most formal.
Beside her, Chaz mumbled something about hambones.
She ignored him. “I will be adjusting the current contracts to include a section for background. We will vet everyone who signs a contract with the town.”
“And just how do you propose to do that?” Janine shot her a don’t-get-comfy-in-your-desk-chair look.
“Can you do that?” asked the mayor.
“We don’t have the means to do a thorough background check on everyone,” Liv began.
“I didn’t think so.” Janine sat back, satisfied.
“But I have access to search engines that can red-flag anyone who might have a questionable past, or if any of their statements that don’t ring true. An arrest record, financial difficulties, incorrect address. For example, we might have had warning that something was amiss when the Zoldosky brothers showed up with five brothers instead of four.”
“Isn’t it illegal for a regular person to do that?” Roscoe asked.
“Not for what we’d be looking for,” Liv said. “It’s all public information.”
“That’s just spooky,” said Rufus. “You can really look all that stuff up?”
“Yes, and I’m surprised that you haven’t instituted this before.” Take that, Janine. “I can find out when you were born, where you live, when you bought your house, if you own one, how much your taxes are, your phone number. I can even see what’s growing in your backyard. It’s all public record if you know how to look.”
“That just ain’t right,” Rufus said.
“We, of course, would not abuse the ability, but only use it to insure that we won’t be harboring any felons or other”—she paused to glance at Chaz—“lowlifes in our midst. It isn’t fail-safe but it will help.”
“That sounds like an excellent idea,” the mayor said, looking a lot happier.
“At least now you’ll know how many Zoldosky brothers there are,” Chaz mumbled.
“I’m going to sic Janine on you,” Liv whispered back. She just caught the hint of his smile in her peripheral vision.
“It does sound good,” Jeremiah said. “I think Liv should start now and see what she can find out about Anton Zoldosky and his brothers. It seems mighty suspicious, them allowing Pete Waterbury to pose as one of them in order to sneak back into town to do God knows what.”
Holy moly. Were they going to ask her to “nudge” justice toward the Zoldoskys to prevent anyone in town from being charged with murder?
She took a breath. “I’m sure the police are already running background checks on all the Zoldoskys, and they have much more sophisticated means to do it.”
“Don’t mean they’re gonna look.”
“Of course they will,” Ted said. “Bill Gunnison wants to catch the murderer as much as anyone.”
“Just so he catches the right one,” Roscoe said.
“Oh, he will,” Jeremiah said.
Liv wondered whether he was right. Bill Gunnison didn’t want it to be a local person any more than the rest of them. But would he go so far as to try to railroad the Zoldoskys?
“What do you think Pete was up to?” Rufus asked, pulling on his mustache.
“Up to no good,” Roscoe said. “Caught him more times than I can count helping himself to whatever he wanted in my store. I was just starting out and couldn’t afford to lose that much to theft. Fortunately Joss Senior was willing to pay for it. Kept Pete from getting arrested as a juvenile. Now I think maybe we shoulda just let him take his punishment. Maybe he would’ve turned over a new leaf and not be lying dead today.”
Jeremiah shook his head. “Not your fault or Joss Senior’s. The boy was just bad. It sometimes happens, even in families like the Waterburys. I’m just glad Joss Senior didn’t live to see what finally happened, but it’s a sorry shame that Joss had to deal with it on his own. Just a sad business all around.”
“Well, I say Bill Gunnison oughta take a good look at the Zoldoskys. They were probably in on it together,” Roscoe said.
“On what?” Ted asked.
“On whatever it was they were planning.”
Chaz rose to his feet. “Well, if that’s settled, I have things to do.” Without waiting for an answer, he headed for the door.
“Well,” Janine said as soon as the door closed behind him. “I don’t think we should hold another festival until Liv can assure us that she can create a safe environment for tourists. All we need is to get a reputation for being a town where people get murdered.”
Liv was stunned, and it took her a second to respond. When she did, she had to raise her voice to be heard over the others’ reactions.
“This town depends on the income from the festivals. And Halloween is a big moneymaker. Christmas and ski season are even bigger. It would be disastrous for our local economy, not to mention morale, if we have to cancel.”
“That’s right,” said Rufus. “We can’t just stop. People are expecting us to put on a good event. They’ve made plans. Corrine Anderson says the inn is booked solid for every weekend through February. And my B and B is filled up, too.”
“Well, it won’t be if one of your guests is murdered in their bed,” Janine said.
Liv stood up. “Janine, you’re not helping with this hysterical attitude. I may be a city girl in your mind, I may be young, but I was an established and respected professional in Manhattan. I’m now committed to my life in Celebration Bay. And I resent your casting aspersions on my intentions, my honesty, or my fortitude.”
“Well, really—”
“Unfortunate events happen everywhere. Hopefully, the Zoldoskys brought this trouble with them. But either way I’m here to stay and I’m sure the county police and Bill Gunnison have every intention of keeping us all safe.”
“Brava,” Ted said under his breath.
“Yeah,” said Rufus.
“Bill has the entire county to patrol,” Jeremiah pointed out.
“I realize that and I’ve already begun putting a proposal together to hire an outside security firm for the larger weekends that would coordinate with the county police.”
Ted raised his eyebrows at her.
Well, she would start on it tonight.
“How soon can you do this?” the mayor asked.
“I’ll
crunch some numbers, consult with the sheriff, and get back to you with some figures. In the meantime—”
“In the meantime,” Janine snapped, “I move to cancel all further activity.”
Ted cleared his throat and the others turned to look at him. “Janine, dear. You’re not a trustee. And only a trustee can make motions.”
Roscoe and Rufus nodded.
Janine shot him a look that could cool the Javits Center. She turned the glacier on the mayor.
“Well, perhaps Janine has the right idea,” Mayor Worley said. “There’s two weeks before the big Halloween weekend. If the murderer is caught by then, we’ll hold the events. If not…” He shrugged and looked apologetically at Liv. “We’ll have to rethink our position.”
Janine didn’t look totally satisfied. The mayor had left Liv wiggle room, but she had no doubt that Janine would do what she could to sour the rest of the inhabitants about Liv’s plans for the future. Liv just had to make sure they found the killer first.
Chapter Eight
“I can’t believe what just happened,” Liv said as she paced the small area in her office. “They hired me to grow the festivals, not cut back on them.”
“Not to worry,” Ted said.
“Don’t worry? You heard the mayor. He wants to cancel Halloween. You don’t do that and recover easily. And we have great momentum right now.”
“He doesn’t want to cancel Halloween or any other festival.”
“Then why—”
“He wanted Janine off his back. If he were serious, he would have called for a vote.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. Being soft on crime might not keep him from being reelected, but undermining the town’s major source of income will. And he knows it.”
“What is Janine’s problem? Is it just me she hates?”
“Mainly she feels humiliated.”
“She was a volunteer. You needed a professional. You advertised. There’s nothing to be humiliated about.”
“I know that, you know that, but Janine is a horse of another color.”
“A horse isn’t the animal I was thinking about to describe her.”
“She’s that, too.”
“Is there something I should know about her and Mayor Worley?”
“Nothing interesting. She’s best friends with his daughter, Caroline. And Caroline, at thirty-something, is still daddy’s little girl.”
“Does she live here? I don’t think I’ve met her.”
“In Albany. She visits occasionally for the Junior League and the Garden Club, but doesn’t generally mingle with the rest of us mere mortals—including her father.”
“Poor Gilbert.” Liv plopped down in her office chair. “So what do you suggest we do?”
“Carry on as usual.”
“In that case, since I can’t close out on the harvest festival until after tonight’s meeting, can you bring me the files on the Halloween vendors? I’ll start vetting them right away.”
“They’re already on your desk. And while you’re doing that, I’ll go get us lunch.”
At the word “lunch,” Whiskey appeared from under the desk and raced around the room.
“Pastrami?” Ted said in a singsong.
“Arr-roo-roo,” Whiskey answered.
“You ate already,” Liv said. “Pastrami’s fine.”
“I’ll take Whiskey with me,” Ted said.
Liv raised an eyebrow. “Do not feed him,” she said, and not expecting to be heeded in the least, she went back to the records.
Fortunately there were only ten outside vendors for Haunted October. And most of them were deliveries. The weekend food and drinks tents were manned by volunteers from Celebration Bay.
When all ten checked out, Liv clicked out of the search program, cleared the history, and hid the program. No way was she going to have people hacking into her research or using her computer to do background checks on their neighbors.
“No one comes up as an ax murderer,” Liv said when Ted returned with two giant Reuben sandwiches from Buddy’s Place, the diner on First Street.
“Good. Feel better?”
“Marginally, but this is as far as I go. So don’t worry; I won’t be looking you up.” She smiled slyly. “Though it is an intriguing idea.”
“Don’t expect I’m in there,” Ted said.
“Everybody is in here. I just wish I had thought to check out the Zoldoskys. God knows I ran background checks on everyone I employed in the city.”
“Well, don’t beat yourself up over this. No one has ever vetted the vendors before.”
“We will from here on out. Though you might say the horse is already out of the barn.”
Ted looked amused. “You’re beginning to sound like a real country girl.”
“And I’d like to stay one.”
“I wouldn’t worry. My guess is we made more on this harvest festival than we ever have. That alone should insure you a place in history.”
“Thanks, but I just want to make sure I don’t become history.”
“Eat your sandwich.”
“So what do you think?” Liv asked after swallowing a bite of the best Reuben she’d eaten north of Katz’s Delicatessen.
“About?”
“About the Zoldoskys as most favored felons.”
“Definitely a possibility. Not necessarily the way it actually happened.”
“Do you think it will get picked up on the wire?”
“A measly, small-town murder? I doubt it.”
“I suppose we should be thankful. What about the Clarion? Reporting it might give its sales a boost. I’d hoped to speak with Mr. Bristow after the meeting adjourned but no such luck. Though I guess it’s a good thing he left before the mayor made his threat to cancel the next event. From my brief contact with the less-than-energetic editor, he’d probably be happy to see it end.”
“Hmm,” Ted said, ruminating over a bite of his sandwich.
“How worrisome could he be? Surely he won’t report that two of the trustees practically asked me to find evidence that would point to one of the Zoldoskys as a murderer. Hopefully he won’t rouse himself to do any interviews about the murder.”
“I wouldn’t worry about Chaz.”
She didn’t want to worry about Chaz Bristow; she didn’t even want to think about him. She just wanted this murder to be solved quietly and quickly with the least amount of fanfare. But could she trust Chaz Bristow to sleep through the investigation?
“Hon, you’ll give yourself wrinkles if you keep scowling like that.”
“Should I salt the hills with some more arrowheads?”
“What on earth?”
“To distract the editor of the Clarion from too much speculation about who murdered Pete Waterbury?”
“Trust me. He’ll just bury it in the police blotter that takes up a corner of the third page on each fourth week of the month. In case you haven’t noticed, he takes life on his own terms.”
“I noticed, and I suppose I should be happy that he’s so lackadaisical. But I was hoping to get a little more enthusiasm from him on reporting the town’s events.”
“You write the copy and he’ll probably run it.”
“Why on earth did he ever agree to run the newspaper?”
“He was the last Bristow, so he inherited the paper and the job of editor.”
“Which reminds me,” Liv said. “Between the Peeping Tom and the murder, I forgot that we seem to owe Chaz Bristow for ads dating back to the spring. Is there any way we can check to see what we have paid him?”
“You can ask Janine.”
“Oh, thanks. You want to ask her?”
“Not me. That’s definitely one for the boss.”
“I assume he would have been paid out of the festival account? We should be able to go back and find the checks for what he was paid for. And we can look for that missing check while we’re at it.”
“I’ll get the checkbook.” He returned a minute
later with a blue canvas checkbook and handed it to Liv.
“This could take all afternoon.” Liv turned to the first page and looked at the first three check stubs. “Do we always advertise in the Clarion?”
“It depends on the date and if Janine was on her high horse or not. It might be easier to look at back issues to see where the ads occurred. Or just take Chaz’s word for it.”
“I don’t think so.”
“He’s honest. And he’s got a mind like a steel trap.”
“A fish trap, maybe.”
Ted chuckled. “Well, regardless, he won’t mind waiting for a few days.”
“Unlike the Zoldosky brothers. I assume they’re still here.”
“Oh yeah, and not happy about it.”
“Do you know if Bill found out anything besides the fact they never told anyone that Pete was a Zoldosky?”
“You mean if they were in on it with him, whatever it was, like Roscoe suggested?” Ted said in a deadpan.
Liv cringed. “Well, not exactly, but it does seem odd that he had just signed on with them when they were on their way to Celebration Bay. Maybe using them as a cover? To do what?”
“I’m sure Bill will get to the bottom of it.”
“Aren’t you the least bit curious? Or do you have insider information that you’re not allowed to share?”
“Neither. Shall we move on to the preparations for Haunted October?”
“If there is a Haunted October.” Liv wrapped up the remaining half of her sandwich and pushed it aside. She picked up a stack of invoices and glanced at the first one. “Okay. The tents are rented and guaranteed for weekend after next.”
“Andy said he’d have the corn maze open to the public by this Thursday and will have the Maze of Madness ready to go for the next three weekends.”
“I’m not sure how that works,” Liv said. “You walk through with a flashlight and things jump out at you?”
“Pretty much. The maze is not for the faint of heart. It only operates late at night and you have to be over twelve to go inside. We get a lot of college kids from the area. During the day you just get cornstalks and decorations, G-rated.
“The Fenways have already volunteered to do the hayrides this year if Joss decides it would be too much for him and Donnie and Roseanne. I thought I’d give them a few days to assimilate all this and get the funeral arranged before they have to decide.”