Read Online Foul Play at the Fair by Shelley Freydont - Free Book Online
Authors: Shelley Freydont
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right after high school, that he and Joss had fought over Dolly. How would Dolly feel if she knew he was back and that he’d been murdered here?
She came to an abrupt stop, and coffee spurted through the container opening. What if the Peeping Tom had been Pete Waterbury? She thought back to that night, and Dolly saying that he didn’t look human. Black holes for eyes and mouth.
Not a teenager up to mischief, but Pete Waterbury in whiteface. Up to his old pranks? Surely Dolly hadn’t recognized him. Or had she? And told Fred, who told Joss when they were standing in front of the church waiting for Roseanne and Donnie.
Ridiculous. Her mind was running away with too little information and too much imagination. She had a festival to run and visitors to keep safe from a possible psychopath.
Everything looked as bucolic and festive as it had the day before. Of course, it was still early. Hopefully everyone was too busy getting ready this morning to have time to listen to their police scanners. And what was it with that? Liv sometimes listened to music on the radio in the mornings, but she didn’t really get the appeal of starting your day with the snap, crackle, and pop of police communications.
She studied the park where the vendors were unpacking their wares. She wondered if the Zoldosky brothers had been told yet. And what was their story? Why was Pete Waterbury impersonating a Zoldosky and why were the real Zoldoskys letting him use their name?
Too many loose ends. Liv hated loose ends. They could sabotage a party or event with the snap of your fingers. Some things were out of her hands, but she could make sure everything else was secure.
Usually Ted opened the office, but today Liv walked into a dark, chilly room. She kept her jacket on while she drank her latte and organized her paperwork. She wondered whenTed would be showing up and caught herself listening for the sound of footsteps in the outer office, but no one came.
She reviewed the contracts and invoices for the weekend, made sure all accounts were paid to date and no vendors were in arrears. She got out the checkbook to write the final checks to the entertainers, who were paid half on arrival and the second half at the end of the weekend.
She opened the checkbook to the last page of stubs. The bottom check was gone but nothing was written on the stub—no payee name, no date. Liv thought back. The last check she remembered writing was the one above the missing check, for additional garbage pickup. She checked the next page. All three checks were there with Ted’s signature.
Maybe Ted had taken one for emergencies, but since both of them had to sign for it to be negotiable, that seemed unlikely. She’d have to ask him when he came back from the farm.
She was just finishing up when church bells began ringing, calling worshippers to nine o’clock services. She went to the window and looked out. A steady stream of people was entering the two churches on the square.
The people in Celebration took their celebrations, their families, their friends, and their religion seriously. Liv knew she would have to make an appearance in one of the churches soon if she were ever to be really accepted.
She had never been a consistent churchgoer. She never seemed to have the time, except, she realized now, in her busiest party seasons. Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter, when she really didn’t have time to go but couldn’t resist the music and the message those holidays brought. Maybe there was a nascent churchgoer hidden inside her.
But for now, she had a festival to run. She put her cell phone and wallet in one pocket of her jacket and her walkie-talkie in the other. She shoved a stack of survey sheets into her canvas bag. She’d hand them out to the vendors later this morning and pick them up at the end of the day. Thequestions were posed to give the committees a better idea of the efficiency and convenience of the facilities. There was a Web page where the surveys
She came to an abrupt stop, and coffee spurted through the container opening. What if the Peeping Tom had been Pete Waterbury? She thought back to that night, and Dolly saying that he didn’t look human. Black holes for eyes and mouth.
Not a teenager up to mischief, but Pete Waterbury in whiteface. Up to his old pranks? Surely Dolly hadn’t recognized him. Or had she? And told Fred, who told Joss when they were standing in front of the church waiting for Roseanne and Donnie.
Ridiculous. Her mind was running away with too little information and too much imagination. She had a festival to run and visitors to keep safe from a possible psychopath.
Everything looked as bucolic and festive as it had the day before. Of course, it was still early. Hopefully everyone was too busy getting ready this morning to have time to listen to their police scanners. And what was it with that? Liv sometimes listened to music on the radio in the mornings, but she didn’t really get the appeal of starting your day with the snap, crackle, and pop of police communications.
She studied the park where the vendors were unpacking their wares. She wondered if the Zoldosky brothers had been told yet. And what was their story? Why was Pete Waterbury impersonating a Zoldosky and why were the real Zoldoskys letting him use their name?
Too many loose ends. Liv hated loose ends. They could sabotage a party or event with the snap of your fingers. Some things were out of her hands, but she could make sure everything else was secure.
Usually Ted opened the office, but today Liv walked into a dark, chilly room. She kept her jacket on while she drank her latte and organized her paperwork. She wondered whenTed would be showing up and caught herself listening for the sound of footsteps in the outer office, but no one came.
She reviewed the contracts and invoices for the weekend, made sure all accounts were paid to date and no vendors were in arrears. She got out the checkbook to write the final checks to the entertainers, who were paid half on arrival and the second half at the end of the weekend.
She opened the checkbook to the last page of stubs. The bottom check was gone but nothing was written on the stub—no payee name, no date. Liv thought back. The last check she remembered writing was the one above the missing check, for additional garbage pickup. She checked the next page. All three checks were there with Ted’s signature.
Maybe Ted had taken one for emergencies, but since both of them had to sign for it to be negotiable, that seemed unlikely. She’d have to ask him when he came back from the farm.
She was just finishing up when church bells began ringing, calling worshippers to nine o’clock services. She went to the window and looked out. A steady stream of people was entering the two churches on the square.
The people in Celebration took their celebrations, their families, their friends, and their religion seriously. Liv knew she would have to make an appearance in one of the churches soon if she were ever to be really accepted.
She had never been a consistent churchgoer. She never seemed to have the time, except, she realized now, in her busiest party seasons. Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter, when she really didn’t have time to go but couldn’t resist the music and the message those holidays brought. Maybe there was a nascent churchgoer hidden inside her.
But for now, she had a festival to run. She put her cell phone and wallet in one pocket of her jacket and her walkie-talkie in the other. She shoved a stack of survey sheets into her canvas bag. She’d hand them out to the vendors later this morning and pick them up at the end of the day. Thequestions were posed to give the committees a better idea of the efficiency and convenience of the facilities. There was a Web page where the surveys
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