Frosted on the Ferris Wheel (5 page)

Chip. Millicent’s date from the other night, but he also fit Charlene’s description of the man she hassled at the crime scene. Gruff appearance. Five o’clock shadow. Muscular build.
 

Curious, she sat on the steps of the gazebo. If he had been at the crime scene—why?

She studied him, observed, as he worked, talked. The workers welcomed the rain. He took a phone call and walked toward her but just out of reach of hearing. Holly crept through the wet grass, trying to listen. She caught the tail end of the conversation.

“I took care of it. Just like you said. I expect to be paid.” Chip listened, his face turning into a frown as dark as the clouds overhead. “I’m not gonna take care of the next one until I see an increased bank account.”

Holly couldn’t jump to conclusions. He could be talking about anything. It could be a complete coincidence that he was holding a heated conversation about money owed and taking care of it. It could be complete coincidence that he had possibly been at the crime scene this morning. He was an out-of-towner with no connection to the murder...unless this was the job he was talking about. Charlene had said the killer was probably at the scene. At the time, she had in mind family or a close friend playing the part, grieving at the loss of life.
 

“What’re you doing?”

The question caught Holly off guard. Chip studied her, suspicious, because she was standing in the middle of the green, getting soaked, in a fancy dress, close enough to eavesdrop.

Maybe another time, when she was thinking clearly, she would have found a convenient answer and walked back home. But she was tired from the long day, discouraged at her failed date, and doubting her relationship with Trent.

Instead, she said, “You guys work so hard. Thought you might want a drink.” The light rain was now running down her back. She shivered. “Get in out of the rain. I know you are paid, but it’s nice to get to know newcomers. Even if they’re here just for the festival.”

His face relaxed. “Sure. Why not? The day’s over.”

They walked to the nearby bar and grill. Holly laughed at her lame attempt to shake dry. Her hair was plastered to her head, makeup smeared. At this point, who cared?

At the bar, she ordered a hard drink and bought him a beer. Holly rarely drank, but tonight, in honor of amateur sleuths everywhere, why not? The place was packed, everyone seeking shelter from the rain. She loved this place, the medieval-type feel, everything, the bar and the tables made from dark wood. Full of charm and character.

“So what’s your name?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“Chip.”

“And...” She smiled. “Where you from?”

“Maine. Been working this summer job for five years.” He guzzled about half his beer. “Good money.”

But not enough. Because he had to take side jobs. They talked and joked until the last drop of her drink was gone. Feeling brave, she asked, “Do you ever have to take any side jobs? There probably isn’t enough time. Seems like a long day.”

His back stiffened and he peered at her, his eyes dark and cold and suspicious. He took another pull of his beer. “Why do you ask?”
 

“Oh. No reason. Just making conversation. We can talk about something else.” She spoke fast, the words shooting out.

He stood, knocking his stool over. It hit the floor with a slam. Hushed whispers surrounded them as conversation stopped with the rising tension. “I get it. Here to check up on me? Make sure I’m doing my job.” He ran a calloused hand through his hair. “And they send a pretty woman? Smart. But I see right through it.” He took a step closer to her. He suddenly seemed bigger and broader than before.

Holly sucked in a breath. “No, really. I don’t know...I mean...”

“Excuse me. Is there a problem here?”

It was Trent. He kept his eye on Chip and flashed his badge.

“No, Sir.” Without a glance back, Chip walked out.

Trent sat at the bar next to her and ordered a beer. Holly felt stupid, like she was caught with her hand in the cookie jar. She traced the grain of wood on the bar, her gaze flickering to Trent’s set jaw and the muscle that kept pulsing.
 

Except she didn’t feel like explaining a thing.
 

She didn’t owe him anything but a thank you for stepping in. Not that she couldn’t have handled Chip. A quick elbow to his nose would’ve told him not to mess with her. Who was she kidding? She was relieved that Trent showed up but didn’t want to admit it.

“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 Street 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.”