Silent Knife (A Celebration Bay Mystery) (12 page)

“Order,” Mayor Worley cried over the din. “Jeremiah, do you want to address that question?”

Jeremiah Atkins stood and leaned over Rufus to glower at Roscoe. “Thank you, Mayor Worley. That particular property had sat vacant since the Newlands closed down last summer. The current enterprise would not have been my first choice as a tenant. I would gladly welcome a new business on the site. However, I don’t see how I can legally evict the present tenants.”

“Easy,” someone called out. “A murder was committed there. It’s bad for the community.”

“And they didn’t abide by the town’s ordinances.”

“I really don’t have control over that as a property owner,” Jeremiah said. “Any business wishing to do business in Celebration Bay signs a separate document agreeing to certain terms. It is a town ordinance.”

“We’ve never had more than one Santa.”

“And they didn’t abide by it.”

“No, they didn’t.”

“There’s your out.”

Ted leaned over to whisper in Liv’s ear. “Except Jeremiah doesn’t want to lose out on the income.”

“I don’t think it would really hold up in a court of law,” Jeremiah said unhappily. “It’s more of a good-faith document.”

“But they signed it, didn’t they?”

All eyes turned from Jeremiah to Janine Tudor, who had been uncharacteristically quiet during the last few questions.

“Well, I gave it to them,” she said haughtily.

“Oh boy,” Liv said under her breath.

“Yeah, but did they sign it?”

“Really,” she said. “It’s my busy season. How can I be expected to remember every little piece of paper that comes across my desk?”

“Well, did they or didn’t they?” Roscoe craned to see Janine at the end of the table.

The mayor banged his gavel. “Whether they did or not, it’s beside the point.”

“And the translation of that is,” Ted whispered,
“
Get Janine off the hot seat.
”

“I don’t know why he’s always sticking up for her,” Liv said.

“Lack of backbone I suspect, but you didn’t hear it from me,” Chaz said in her ear. His breath sent shivers down
her
backbone, but not in a fun way.

Miriam Krause stood. “Well, what are we gonna do until this gets straightened out? We’ll be overrun by morbid gawkers and news folks when this gets out. It’ll scare away the shoppers.”

“Don’t know how you’re going to keep the curious away.”

“That’s right.”

“We just gotta make sure they’re buying and not just gawking.”

Rufus stood, smoothed his mustache. “I for one am impressed with the job Bayside Security performed. Liv, do we have funds for hiring this team of yours for a few more days until things settle down?”

“They should do it for free, useless waste of money if you ask me.”

“Nobody asked you.”

“They diffused a fight in the pub before anybody had a chance to break anything, including their heads. I say we hire them.”

“Right and they helped out with crowd control at the end of the ceremony,” Fred Hunnicutt added. “I say if we can, we should consider keeping them at least for the next two weeks through the
Messiah
sing-along and the Christmas pageant.”

“Now, let’s not get carried away,” the mayor said.

“He’s looking a little apoplectic,” Liv said.

“Probably worrying how the expenses will look in the next election,” said Chaz.

She turned her back on him. “Mr. Mayor, in my initial study of the efficacy of hiring a security firm . . .”

“The party of the first part, the hambone connected to the—”

“Shush,” she said and stood to look at the audience, all owners or managers of local stores.

All the businesses on the west side of the park where Trim a Tree was located were represented except for BeBe, who didn’t have anyone to watch the coffee bar while she was gone. Dolly and Fred were sitting together next to Quincy Hinks from the Bookworm. Nancy Pyne sat with her hands held in her lap. She smiled slightly as Liv caught her eye. Miriam Krause gave Liv a nod of encouragement.

“When I first began vetting companies for the job of security, I ran a comparative spreadsheet of the various packages the firms offered and their costs. I also prepared a specialized package for Celebration Bay’s security needs, one for intensive high-traffic events and one for daily maintenance in case we decided to go that route. I’d be happy to present that data to the committee. If I may?”

“Certainly,” the mayor said, but he looked apprehensive.

Beside him, Janine rolled her eyes and began to study her nails.

Liv clicked on the spreadsheet, which appeared projected on the wall behind the trustees. “On this first page are the basic proposals.” She waited for a minute to give them time to study it, then continued. “This second page breaks these down further to show individual a la carte services.”

“To be served with a dry burgundy,” Chaz said under his breath.

Liv refused to be baited. “I also have a comparison of incidents per capita from the last three tree lightings with this year’s preliminary reports, if the council is interested.”

“Of course we are,” Jeremiah said.

Liv pulled up the next graph, color coded. It drove her point home. Crime and accidents were down across the grid.

“I say we just let Liv do what she needs to do,” Roscoe said. “She obviously knows how to do it.”

Janine cut him a look but kept her mouth shut.

“Thank you for your input, Liv,” Mayor Worley said. “The trustees will take this into consideration when making a decision about continuing to use Bayside Security in the future.”

Janine shot Liv a smug look. Would she really leave the town underprotected just to get back at Liv? Maybe it was time to have a little talk with the woman.

“Well, I say we vote to keep them,” said Roscoe.

“At a later, closed meeting,” the mayor said.

“And I second Roscoe’s motion,” Rufus said.

“Not now,” the mayor urged.

“Chaz?” Roscoe asked.

“Sure.”

“So do I,” said Jeremiah. “And since Janine doesn’t have a vote, I say the vote carries.”

“Here, here.”

The room broke into a noisy gaggle of voices. Mayor Worley pounded his gavel to no avail. Only the door opening and Bill Gunnison walking in brought the room back to relative quiet. Two people were with him. One was Grace Thornsby; the other one had to be her husband, Clarence.

“Now maybe we’ll get some real answers,” Rufus said, and began chewing his mustache in anticipation.

“Sheriff,” the mayor said, his voice dropping half an octave. “Thank you for coming. Now, if you’ll all sit down, Sheriff Gunnison will apprise us of this ignominious occurrence.”

“Oh God, it’s catching,” said the voice behind Liv.

She didn’t bother to turn around. The mayor
was
sounding a little silly all of a sudden. Did she sound like that? She didn’t think so. She knew what she was doing. She fit her language to the situation. She knew how to persuade and it worked, she reminded herself. Chaz was just a . . . jerk who took delight in baiting her.

Bill motioned the Thornsbys to chairs at the side of the room. And Liv took the opportunity to get a good look at Grace’s husband. Middle-aged, wearing a suede jacket over a checked shirt, open at the collar. Tallish with a stomach that hung over his belt. He nodded his way to his chair and sat. Liv could imagine him doing his own boat commercials.

Bill stepped up to the podium, displacing the mayor, who moved down to occupy Chaz’s empty seat.

“Let me first thank everyone for keeping clear heads and cooperating with the investigation.” Bill gave the room the gist of what had happened, the barest details on the status of the case, and asked anyone who might have seen or heard something to please come forward, anonymously if they preferred. All information would be confidential.

He didn’t say anything that Liv hadn’t heard or seen before. And he left one big detail out altogether. The fact that Phillip Cosgrove was a private investigator.

One that followed cheating spouses. Liv glanced at Grace. Did she have a lover? Was that where she was when Cosgrove was being killed? Or had she found out about him and decided to kill him?

Don’t be absurd.
But who? And why?

“The police have finished their preliminary investigation, and the Trim a Tree space has been cleared to reopen.”

The room erupted with angry voices.

“No. Haven’t they caused enough trouble?”

“Close down the Trim a Tree.”

“Quiet, let’s have some order here.” Bill looked at the mayor, who threw up his hands. Bill picked up the gavel and whacked it on the table once.

Everybody shut up.

Damn
, thought Liv. He might be slow, he might have sciatica, but people listened to him.

“The Thornsbys did not come here to be badgered by your questions. Clarence asked to come and make a statement.”

Clarence nodded to the sheriff and stood. “I just want to let the people of Celebration Bay know how sorry both my wife and I are about the events of last night.”

“A man was murdered in your store.”

“I realize that. And it is unfortunate. But I don’t see that there was a way that I could have prevented it.”

Liv watched him speculatively. Where was he going with this? He should have given his goodwill speech
before
tragedy struck. Now he was in danger of throwing gasoline on the fire.

Several questions flew at once.

“Please let him finish,” Bill commanded.

There was some grumbling, but they quieted down.

“Thank you, Sheriff. That’s all I really have to say. Except, for everyone’s inconvenience, I’m offering a ten percent discount on all boating goods at any of my stores through the end of the month.”

There was a stunned silence.

It was the first time Liv had witnessed the entirety of the Celebration Bay business community at a loss for words.

Liv glanced at Ted, whose mouth had gone slack, and said, “I can’t believe he just used this tragedy as a promo op for his business.”

“What an ass,” Ted said.

Clarence gave the attendees a satisfied smile. “Thank you.” He turned toward his wife as if to leave.

“I have one question.”

The room stilled.

Liv couldn’t believe her ears. The laziest newspaperman in the state wanted to ask a question.

“Where was Ms. Thornsby during the tree lighting?”

Clarence glared at Chaz, glanced at his wife, and back to Chaz. “She was with me.”

A sigh of disappointment seemed to go out of the room. Celebration Bay liked their intrigue. But a wife spending an evening with her husband was nothing to get excited about.

The only person who looked shocked was Grace Thornsby.

“He’s lying,” Chaz said under his breath but loud enough for Liv to hear him.

She slowly turned her head. Of course he was slouched in his chair with his eyes closed.

“No kidding,” she said. “Did you see Grace’s expression?”

A faint brief smile followed by a deep, slow breath. Liv didn’t get him at all. He was lazy, apathetic, and refused to get involved. So what was the point of dropping her a tidbit if he wasn’t going to follow up?

“Okay, everyone,” said Bill. “I didn’t bring the Thornsbys here to be chastised or questioned. Clarence asked to come to show his goodwill.”

Taking his cue, the mayor jumped up. “Thank you all for coming. And Merry Christmas.”

Merry Christmas? A man was dead. His murder was unsolved, and Clarence Thornsby had turned the meeting into a sales pitch.

The Thornsbys were the first to leave. Grace’s hand was tucked in Clarence’s. The room began to empty while Liv put away her laptop and shut off the projector. She was hoping to wait around until everyone was gone and talk to Bill. But the mayor and Bill left together.

Ted carried the projector back to the office. Liv slipped her computer bag over her shoulder and went to the door.

Only Chaz Bristow was left, snoring gently in his chair.

Liv gritted her teeth. “Good night,” she said and flicked off the lights.

The hallway was empty as Liv made her way back to her office. Usually after a meeting people stood outside chatting or complaining or planning trips to the pub, but not tonight. Liv yawned. They were probably already home getting ready for bed.

The majority of them would go to church the next morning, then head for their various businesses. Not even on Sunday did they get a day of rest when it was festival season, though the stores didn’t open until after noon.

Ted was putting on his coat when Liv got to the office. Whiskey was sitting at his feet. Considering he’d been sleeping most of the day, he was ready for adventure.

“Want a ride?” Ted asked.

“Thanks, but no. It’s not late. I thought I’d drop by the Buttercup and see if BeBe wanted to go out for a drink or something.”

“Well, you girls have fun.” Ted threw his scarf around his neck with a flourish, setting off the jingle bells attached to the fringed ends.

Whiskey jumped up and wagged his tail.

“Sorry, fella, you’re stuck with the girls tonight. You want me to wait for you to finish here?”

“No, I’m just getting my coat and leaving, too.”

“Good night, then. Good night, dawg.” Ted left and closed the door. Whiskey barked. Ted stuck his head back in. “For we like sheep . . .”

“Aar-roo-roo-roo.”

Ted grinned at Liv. “I think we’re almost ready to start on the ‘Hallelujah Chorus.’”

Liv rolled her eyes; Ted closed the door. She could hear him humming as he walked down the hall to the front door. Liv grabbed her coat and clipped on Whiskey’s leash, then slid her laptop case over her shoulder—she probably wouldn’t be doing any work at home that night, but you never knew.

The cold hit her with a vengeance, and Liv shivered in spite of her coat. She pulled up the collar, pulled down her hat, and looked down at Whiskey. “Aren’t you the least little bit cold?”

He yipped and started down the steps.

She crossed the street and had to pull him past the Corner Café, which was just closing for the night. He was hungry and so was she, but she needed to satisfy one question. How dark was the alley?

Okay, two questions. Was it really dark enough for someone to steal the Santa suit, change into it, and go into TAT without being seen? Unless they had stolen the suit earlier and sneaked back through the parking lot after dark. Either way, she rationalized, she would need to do something about enhancing the lighting. And the only way she would know was to look.

This would be a perfect time, while things were still open and people were about. She wouldn’t walk down it alone, just stand at the entrance and take a recce.

She walked to the alley entrance. As she stood there, the lights in the Pyne Bough went dark. Nancy had been at the meeting; maybe she had come back to finish locking up. There was still light coming from the two side windows of the storeroom where Hank changed.

Liv looked down the rest of the alley. The lampposts were set at intervals of about fifty feet, bright enough to cast cones of light over most of the area. She could see the brighter lights of the walk-through two-thirds of the way down. Though the middle of the alley was fairly well lit, the sides were not. There were plenty of places to hide in the shadows against the fence and the buildings.

The front of the Dumpster where Hank had found his Santa suit was lit. Liv could see it quite clearly, but the back half was cloaked in total darkness. Enough so that someone could dress and undress quickly without being seen.

A shiver prickled up her spine. She would assign an extra security guard to the area to supplement the police patrol. She didn’t think the trustees would begrudge her spending a little extra on something that might prevent further crime.

But they really needed to make a concerted effort to upgrade safety. The festivals were growing exponentially, and they didn’t have enough permanent security measures in place. She’d prob—

There was movement ahead. Liv peered down the alley. Whiskey stood at attention. Legs set, head erect, ears pitched forward.

The Trim a Tree delivery door opened and cast a rectangle of light on the pavement.

Liv was inclined to run, but her feet wouldn’t move. She dropped to a crouch, fumbled in her bag, pulled out a dog biscuit, and gave it to Whiskey. She put her finger to her lips. “Shh.”

She eased forward.

Clarence Thornsby stepped into the alley. Was Grace still inside? Clarence hadn’t bothered to turn out the lights.

Liv couldn’t seem to move away. Curiosity, nosiness. Call it whatever, Liv had known without Chaz having to tell her, that Clarence was lying about Grace being with him during the time of the murder. Why would he do that?

And what were they up to?

Maybe neither of them had hired Phil Cosgrove. Maybe someone had hired him to investigate the Thornsbys. And if that was the case, they might have conspired to murder him.

Liv took a deep breath, slowly let it out, watching the puff of fog it caused. Too much imagination. There was nothing at all—not much anyway—that made their actions suspicious. If they were planning to open the next day, they of course would want to check out the condition of their store. She should mind her own business.

Clarence strode away from the door. He was carrying a folded newspaper under his arm.

“Wait just a minute.” Grace’s voice shot out of the shadows and sliced through the clear night air.

Clarence stopped, turned. Grace came out of the store, and they faced each other in the rectangle of light, silhouetted like an old Victorian Christmas card.

An old, menacing Christmas card
, Liv amended silently.

“Don’t”—Clarence poked his finger at Grace’s nose—“start with me again. You’ve made me look like a fool. These people are my potential customers, their friends are my potential customers. They want to deal with someone they can trust. And look what you’ve done.”

“Me? I haven’t done anything.”

“Ha.” The sound cracked like a gun, making Liv jump. Whiskey yipped in return, and Liv reached over and scooped him up into her arms as she ducked into the shadows.

She held Whiskey close to her, whispered in his ear. “Quiet.” His ear twitched and tickled her nose. She had to quell the urge to laugh. It was absurd, skulking in the shadows with her dog, listening to a husband and wife argue.

A husband and wife who may have committed murder, she reminded herself.

In which case you should get the heck away.

Keeping to the shadows, she maneuvered to the back of the Dumpster. She squatted down, put Whiskey on the ground next to her. Keeping a restraining hand on his back, Liv crab-walked to the edge of the Dumpster and peered out.

“If you had been at the store, none of this would have happened.”

“What you mean is, he might have killed me instead,” she cried hysterically. “You wish I were dead.”

“You’re crazy. I just want to know why you weren’t here for the tree lighting. It’s the biggest night of the season. And you took the night off? Where were you, Grace?”

“I was busy. Penny Newland was supposed to do it. The Newlands have been doing it for years. She knew exactly what to do. But she cut out on me. You can’t trust anybody these days. And I’m not hiring her back.”

“Where were you?”

“None of your business.”

Liv shifted position, trying to ease a cramp in her hamstring.

“The hell it isn’t.” His voice dropped. “I lied for you. Tell me, or I’ll—” He grabbed her arm.

Liv leaned forward to hear better. Her hamstring spasmed and she pushed to her feet, standing with her weight on one leg while trying to relax the cramp in the other.

“What? Kill me? Do you think anybody will buy any of your stupid boats if they think you tried to kill your wife?”

“Dammit, keep your voice down. Do you want the whole town to hear?”

“That you tried to kill your wife?”

“You’re insane.” Clarence turned away.

Grace grabbed at his sleeve. Clarence jerked his arm away; the folded newspaper he’d been holding under his arm fell to the ground. He stepped over it and crowded Grace until she stumbled backward.

Liv hoped to hell they didn’t start hitting each other or she’d feel compelled to intervene. And what good could she do? And she would blow her cover.

She balanced on one leg, and holding her computer case behind her, Liv leaned farther out from behind the Dumpster to get a better look. She never made it. A hand clamped over her mouth and yanked her back.

Liv froze. She’d survived how long in Manhattan without being mugged? This couldn’t be happening.

“Do not stomp on my foot,” a voice whispered in her ear.

Liv’s breath came out in a whoosh, or it would have if he hadn’t covered her nose with his palm.

She pushed the hand away. “Dammit, Chaz. Shh.”

She peered around the Dumpster. Chaz came with her, looking over her shoulder, so close that it was distracting.

“What are we watching?” he whispered in her ear. It sent vibrations all the way down to her toes.

“The Thornsbys.”

“Oh.” He moved closer until her back was molded to his front.

“You’re trying to distract me.”

“Is it working?”

“This is serious.”

“I’m feeling a little serious. What are they doing?”

Liv leaned out just in time to see Grace stalk into the store. As soon as she was gone, Clarence bent over to scoop up the newspaper and something else. A rectangular something, a book or a bag of some sort, maybe a bank deposit bag. He slipped it into the folded newspaper, looked quickly around, and shoved it inside his coat.

Liv didn’t blame him. Even though most of the locals refused to patronize the store and it had been closed on the first big shopping night because of the murder, it had still been open for a week or so. He could be carrying a substantial amount of cash and checks.

“I think the show is over,” Chaz whispered and pulled her even closer.

“Stop it.”

Grace reappeared in the alley and turned to lock the door.

The Pyne Bough door opened, and Nancy Pyne stepped out.

Chaz yanked Liv behind the Dumpster. Liv nearly tripped over Whiskey as Chaz pulled her into the shadows.

“Did she see us?” Liv whispered.

“I don’t know, are we hiding from her, too?”

Liv growled, so did Whiskey. “No, shh, shh, I was just kidding.” Liv clamped her hand over Whiskey’s mouth.

She could see Chaz grinning in the half light.

“Shit, she’s coming to take out the garbage.” He pulled Liv down, where they crouched against the side of the Dumpster. Hopefully out of sight.

Liv held her breath. Feeling stupid. And wishing Nancy would hurry and get back inside before the Thornsbys left.

She heard the squeak of the Dumpster lid, the sound of a bag being shoved in and the lid closing. Then nothing. Nancy didn’t move away or move at all. What was she doing? Why wasn’t she going back to the Pyne Bough? Liv cut her eyes toward Chaz. He shrugged.

It seemed like eons with Liv, Chaz, Whiskey, and Nancy suspended in time. Nancy must have been watching the Thornsbys, too. But what were they doing? Liv strained her ears but heard nothing; then finally Nancy’s footsteps moved away.

Liv and Chaz let out their collective breaths. Whiskey licked both their faces. Liv started to stand, but Chaz pulled her back. “Wait.”

Liv watched Nancy start back across the alley. She was taking her time. Finally she opened the door, but before she got inside, something orange streaked past her feet and into the alley.