Death Rides a Pony, page 17
‘What won’t I hear?’ Amelia asked.
They turned toward her in surprise. The speed and agility with which Amelia had managed to thread her way through the ever-growing assembly inside the tent were impressive. Similar to the day before, husband and wife were a matched set, except Amelia’s shorts had no stains, and her yellow shirt was a touch faded, making it more lemon than mustard. As Stanley had told them, one of her hands was heavily bandaged. In her free hand, Amelia carried two fresh bottles of beer.
Stanley promptly took a full bottle to replace his empty one. Considering the peculiarity of some of his remarks, Hope wasn’t so sure that Stanley needed another beer. She was increasingly glad that she hadn’t shared any details about Sean with him.
‘What won’t I hear?’ Amelia asked again.
Having had sufficient time to come up with a believable response, Summer answered, ‘You won’t hear anything. None of us will hear anything. It’s getting so loud and crowded in this place that I’m starting to have trouble hearing myself think.’
‘Isn’t it wonderful?’ Amelia exclaimed. She took a hefty drink from the remaining bottle. ‘All the people, all the noise, all the excitement! It’s fantastic! Makes me feel thirty years younger!’
‘That isn’t possible,’ Stanley protested. ‘If you were thirty years younger, you’d be a babe in arms, and I would get arrested for calling you my wife.’
Amelia burst out laughing – and immediately took another drink. ‘What a shameless flatterer you are! May I remind you that we are celebrating our fortieth wedding anniversary next March?’
‘You’re still as beautiful as the day we were married,’ Stanley responded gallantly. And in one slightly clumsy but unhesitating movement, he swept Amelia into his arms and planted a big, wet kiss on her lips.
Both Hope and Summer smiled in amusement at the display of affection. They both also expected it to end with more laughing and drinking from the couple. When the kissing continued instead and grew ever sloppier, the sisters looked at each other.
‘Time to exit?’ Summer said.
‘Time to exit,’ Hope agreed.
Turning away from the Palmers and their sustained smooching, they headed toward the rear of the tent where it was quieter and less congested. The rows of folding chairs in front of the speaker’s stage were no longer neat and unoccupied, but the corner of the stage nearest to the side flap was empty. Hope and Summer seated themselves on it, making sure to keep far away from any potential prying ears.
Without preamble, Summer jumped straight to the crux of the matter. ‘They’ve all got injuries.’
‘And aside from Rosemarie,’ Hope replied, ‘they’ve all got unverifiable accounts of how they obtained those injuries.’
Summer nodded. ‘When Stanley was telling us that ladder story, it reminded me of how he almost fell from the ladder in our booth yesterday. Do you remember? You were explaining to Gram that Rosemarie had a new boyfriend, and I said Davis Scott’s name. Amelia cried out, and Stanley nearly tumbled to the ground. Even at the time, I thought that it was an awfully strong reaction to the mere mention of the man.’
Hope nodded back at her. ‘It could have been a sign of a guilty conscience, except the murder wasn’t premeditated.’
‘Just because it wasn’t premeditated,’ Summer countered, ‘doesn’t mean it wasn’t contemplated. One or both of the Palmers could have thought about killing Davis without having put any specific plans into place. Their consciences might have been very guilty, hence their strong reactions to his name.’
‘Speaking of strong reactions, I’m glad that Gram can’t hear us right now. She wouldn’t be happy if she knew that we were discussing the possibility of her good friends Stanley and Amelia being murderers.’
‘And her good friend Jocelyn,’ Summer added.
‘Jocelyn?’ Hope said in surprise.
‘Jocelyn Frost. Drapery expert and seamstress extraordinaire. She’s the one responsible for the burgundy curtains in our booth.’
‘Yes, I know who she is. But I don’t know why you think that she’s connected to any of this.’
‘Because she also reacted strongly to Davis’s name. It wasn’t only Amelia who cried out. Jocelyn did, too.’
Recalling the incident, Hope gave a little gasp. ‘And Jocelyn pricked her finger! It was bleeding!’
‘Correct,’ Summer confirmed. ‘Jocelyn claimed that her attention had wandered and the needle had simply slipped, but what are the chances of that happening at the exact moment I mentioned Davis? Plus, Jocelyn was terribly flushed. We assumed that she was overheated from having those heavy layers of velvet in her lap, but looking back on it, I think it was all about Davis Scott.’
‘With Jocelyn’s finger, we have another bloody wound to add to the list—’ Hope stopped and shook her head. ‘But there’s the premeditation problem again, and it’s especially true regarding Jocelyn. She’s the one who made the cords for the curtains, and Nate said that with the way they’re stitched and the thickness of the fabric, the cords would have been a much better murder weapon than the silk scarf.’
‘Except maybe Jocelyn was too clever to use her own cords,’ Summer argued. ‘Maybe she deliberately chose the scarf so that no one would connect her with the crime.’
‘But we aren’t even sure if Jocelyn knew Davis.’
‘From what we’ve learned over the past two days, it’s pretty clear that everyone knew Davis. Or perhaps more accurately, everyone was in some way a victim of Davis.’
Hope sighed. ‘So where does that leave us?’
‘That leaves us with one dead body and far too many suspects. The upside is that there’s no reason to believe anybody else will be killed.’
Hope sighed again. On that point, she wasn’t nearly as confident as her sister.
EIGHTEEN
Summer flinched. ‘Did you see that?’
‘See what?’ Hope asked.
They were still sitting on the corner of the stage. Voices and figures moved around them, but Hope had taken little notice, lost in her own thoughts.
‘The person,’ Summer said.
By Hope’s estimation, there were close to fifty people within shouting distance. ‘You’re going to have to be a bit more specific.’
‘Over there.’ Summer pointed at the side flap.
The side flap of the tent had been pulled back, leaving a narrow opening. It was presently empty.
‘Did you see the person?’ Summer pressed her.
Hope shook her head. ‘No. Nobody is leaving. The party is too popular.’
‘I don’t mean inside the tent,’ Summer responded impatiently. ‘Outside.’
Shifting her focus, Hope looked through the opening. Night had fallen over the festival grounds. There were a few flickering spots of light in the distance but no discernible people.
‘There it is again!’ Summer exclaimed.
Hope squinted into the darkness.
‘It’s only visible for a couple of seconds. The shadow appears. It moves closer. And then it fades away again.’
Although she squinted harder, Hope still didn’t see anyone.
‘It’s him,’ Summer declared. ‘I’m certain of it.’
‘Who?’ Hope said.
‘Gary, of course!’
Hope turned to her sister in surprise.
‘It’s Gary,’ Summer told her emphatically. ‘This is the second time tonight that I’ve seen him.’
‘You have?’ Hope asked, even more surprised. ‘When was the first time?’
‘When I was talking to Sean on the folding chairs. All of a sudden, I had this strange feeling that I was being watched. I looked over at the main entrance to the tent, and there he was! His body was mostly hidden behind the flap doors, but I clearly saw his face. Gary was staring straight at me! It startled me enough that I almost fell from my seat. I must have turned awfully pale, because Sean said he was worried I might faint.’
That explained to Hope why Summer had looked so grim and grave during her conversation with Sean. But Sean had looked grim and grave also, far too much to be due solely to concern over her sister’s pallor. Hope was about to ask her about it, but Summer didn’t give her the chance.
‘This proves that Melody was telling us the truth at her booth. Gary did see me yesterday and this morning, even though I didn’t see him. It wasn’t a coincidence. Gary has been following me!’
Hope was momentarily silent, remembering how she had seen Gary in a similar manner that afternoon, partially concealed beneath the floppy purple awning at the back of Amethyst’s booth. At the time, she had wondered whether it might be an optical illusion. Now she wondered whether it was confirmation that Gary was indeed following Summer. Could there be an innocent explanation?
‘I don’t understand why he’s doing it,’ Summer continued. ‘It must be what you said before. The divorce proceedings have been dragging on for too long, and that’s starting to affect him. It’s Gary’s own fault, because he was the one who selected Davis and has caused all the delay with the sale of the house. So I can’t feel much sympathy for him, especially now that he’s decided to creep about and spy on me.’
‘Are you sure?’ Hope asked her.
Summer scrunched up her nose indignantly. ‘Yes, I’m sure! Do you think my eyes are playing tricks like Rosemarie’s? I’m imagining that Gary is lurking around corners and skulking in the dark?’
‘That isn’t what I meant—’
‘And I’m not mistaking him for someone else,’ Summer added irritably. ‘I lived with the man for enough years to know what he looks like. Just because Gary is concealing himself behind doors doesn’t make it so I can’t recognize him.’
‘That isn’t what I meant,’ Hope said again. ‘Of course I don’t think you’re imagining it, and of course you can recognize Gary. I was just wondering if maybe he wasn’t actually spying on you.’
Her nose remained scrunched. ‘Do you have another way to explain his prowling and peering?’
Hope replied with some hesitancy, not wanting to upset her sister further. ‘Well, I don’t know about the other occasions, but as to earlier this evening, when you saw Gary at the main entrance to the tent, it’s possible he wasn’t following you at all. He might have come here because he had heard about the party.’
Summer frowned at her.
‘Maybe when he arrived, Gary saw you sitting on the folding chairs. He stayed by the flap doors, debating whether to go in, and then decided against it. Did you happen to catch a glimpse of Aaron or Melody? They might have been with him.’
The frown deepened, and Hope figured that it was best to shift the subject.
‘Speaking of Melody,’ she said, ‘we had intended to go back to check that she was all right and hadn’t collapsed in a charred heap. But I suppose it’s too late for us to do that now. The booths closed a long time ago.’
‘I have no doubt that Melody is fine,’ Summer responded dryly. ‘And even if she ended up a little woozy from too much sun and heat, Aaron can revive her with a cup of mead and some soothing aloe vera lotion. It’s the least he can do considering that the teeny-weeny bikini was his idea.’
Hope smiled.
‘My sympathy is no greater for Melody than it is for Gary,’ Summer went on. ‘She knows perfectly well that her husband is a cheat just like mine. That might be acceptable to her, but it’s not acceptable to me. I find it infuriating that she keeps talking about my imminent reunion with Gary and the two of us miraculously patching things up. She’s probably been saying the same things to him.’
‘She probably has,’ Hope agreed.
‘I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s even gone so far as to encourage Gary to follow me, telling him that it would promote intimacy, or reconciliation, or some other bunch of nonsense. The more I think about it, the madder I get—’ Summer cut herself off abruptly. ‘And there he is again!’
Although Hope quickly followed her sister’s gaze toward the side flap, she found it as empty as before. The few flickering spots of light in the distance were still visible through the opening, but there was no sign of Gary – or anybody else, for that matter.
‘I’m tired of it, and I’m going to bring it to an end,’ Summer resolved. ‘Once and for all. There’s no sense in prolonging the agony, either for him or me.’
‘But what if—’ Hope began.
Summer paid no attention, brushing aside any question or doubt. She sprang up from her seat on the stage, gave her sister a distracted nod in parting, and marched with determined steps out of the tent.
Unsure how to react, Hope watched her leave. Summer didn’t appear to encounter anyone immediately upon her exit. After a few feet, she turned left and disappeared into the night. Hope debated for a moment whether she should go after her. But then she decided that it was a situation Summer was better off handling alone. Hope wasn’t convinced that Gary was even out there.
She remained on the stage for another minute or two. The party held no interest for her, and now that so many people had come inside, the tent was beginning to feel rather stuffy and warm. With less urgency than her sister, Hope stood up and headed toward the side flap. While not truly cool, the air outside was fresher and less humid than it had been during the day. There was a hint of a breeze, which – when combined with the lack of blazing sun – made for a much more pleasant evening than Asheville had experienced in quite a while.
Heading to the spot where Summer had turned left, Hope found a slim alley that ran alongside the tent up toward a row of booths. The passage was filled with various pieces of equipment that presumably had some purpose in relation to the festival but were mostly unidentifiable in the dim light. Neither Summer nor anyone else was there. Hope started to weave her way through the gear in the direction of the booths. When she came to a large wooden packing crate, she halted and leaned against it, taking advantage of the momentary peace and quiet. Voices and laughter could be heard from inside the tent, but they were no more than a background hum. She looked up at the sky. Only one edge of the crescent moon and a smattering of stars were observable tonight. The remainder had been blotted out by the leading edge of a long line of encroaching clouds. She wondered if the weather might at long last be changing. Could the storm that Summer had been wishing for, with its thunder and lightning and torrential downpour, finally be in the offing?
Realizing that she was still holding a half-empty bottle of beer dating back to when she had been sitting in the tent with Megan, Hope took a sip from it. She grimaced at the taste. The liquid was warm and flat.
‘So this is where you’ve decided to hide,’ said a voice suddenly.
Hope jumped in surprise and nearly dropped the bottle.
‘Didn’t your grandmother ever teach you that it’s a bad idea to drink alone in back alleyways in the dark of night?’
‘Good lord, Dylan.’ Hope took a deep breath to steady herself. ‘Don’t sneak up on someone like that. You nearly made my heart stop.’
‘It serves you right. You shouldn’t be out here by yourself.’
‘I was enjoying the serenity of solitude,’ she replied dryly.
‘May I enjoy it with you?’
Not waiting for her answer, Dylan walked over to the packing crate and leaned against it next to her. This time, instead of almost stopping, Hope’s heart responded with a slight flutter.
After a moment, Dylan said, ‘Your grandmother should have also taught you that it isn’t polite to issue an invitation and then rescind it without informing the person.’
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’
‘The Green Goat. You and Summer invited Nate and me to join you at the Green Goat this evening.’
‘Oh, yes. I had forgotten about that. The plan sort of fell by the wayside. You can blame it on Megan.’
‘Megan doesn’t like the Green Goat?’ Dylan asked.
‘She likes it too much. Or more accurately, she likes its owner – whom she met this afternoon – too much.’ Hope smiled, remembering Megan’s comments regarding Daniel Drexler. ‘According to her, the man is eye candy, and instead of going to the Green Goat tonight, she wanted to stay here and further her acquaintance with him.’ She didn’t add that Megan was also using Daniel to avoid being questioned by Nate.
‘So it’s the eye candy’s fault that I’ve lost out on my complimentary cocktail?’
Hope’s smile grew. ‘The complimentary cocktail was for Nate, not you,’ she corrected him.
‘That isn’t how I recall it.’
‘Then your memory is faulty. But if you feel that strongly about it, you can have this.’ She offered him the half-empty bottle of warm beer in her hand.
He made no move to take it. ‘Your generosity is overwhelming, but I prefer my beverages chilled.’
‘I can’t argue with you on that.’ Hope set down the rejected bottle behind her on the packing crate. ‘Dinner and an icy cocktail in an air-conditioned restaurant would have been nice.’
‘It’s still an option,’ Dylan proposed. ‘A late dinner is much better than no dinner.’
‘Again, I can’t argue with you. But I’m afraid that Summer’s evening is fully booked. She went to confront her shifty husband. Gary has taken up following her around the festival grounds. At least, it’s possible that he has,’ Hope amended. ‘I’m not really certain.’
‘Nate will be disappointed about the Green Goat. He was looking forward to it.’
‘Was he? I’ll tell Summer. It will offer her some much-needed encouragement.’
‘I was looking forward to it, too,’ Dylan added.
His voice held enough meaning that Hope’s heart responded with another slight flutter.
‘There are always other evenings,’ she said, offering her own encouragement. ‘Where is Nate, by the way? I hope he wasn’t required to go back to work at this hour.’
‘No. He’s inside the tent with Larkin and Janice.’
This time there was no fluttering or encouragement. Hope’s reply was crisp. ‘Then you and Nate can still go to the Green Goat tonight. I’m sure that Larkin and her friend would love to accompany you.’
