Boo Who (22 page)

When the mayor returned to the porch, with a fresh layer of sunscreen on his nose and two glasses of punch, Martin decided to try again at bringing up the strange new visitors he’d spotted.

“Probably tourists,” the mayor quipped. “You know they all look the same. Wide-eyed, cameras ready to take a picture of anything deemed interesting, fanny packs wrapped around their bulging waists.”

Martin wanted to retort, but it was useless. The mayor was only an echo of who he used to be, and though he didn’t want to ignore Dr. Hass’s advice, he also felt that the only way to truly get the mayor back on his feet was to figure out how to save this town. And figuring that out, he believed, meant getting back to the basics of what this town was originally about. He felt sure the town’s history was the answer to its future. In the back of his mind, he outlined a plan to call a town meeting in hopes of gaining more information.

But finding Skary’s history was going to be the trick.

There was one person in this town old enough to know and keen enough to remember. But a visit to her house was like walking under a ladder. Bad things were going to follow. First he was going to have to get some pants on.

“Come in, Marty,” Missy Peeple said, surprised by the visitor but nonetheless cordial.

“Martin,” he said. “Please, not Marty.”

“Why can’t I remember that?” she chuckled. “I guess I’ve always been a sucker for rhyme, Mr. Blarty.”

“I’m sorry for stopping by unannounced.” He entered, taking off his coat.

“You smell like sunscreen,” Missy said, raising a suspicious eyebrow. Marty always was a strange one.

His eyes darted away. He shrugged and took a seat on the couch. Only her curiosity about his visit made her decide to drop the sunscreen inquisition. “Coffee?”

“No, thank you. I’d like to get to the point of why I’m here.”

“All right.” Missy managed to make it to her chair without her cane. She covered her legs with her quilt and then put her attention on Marty, who looked anxious. “What is it?”

“As far as I know, you are the oldest resident of Skary.”

It is true.

“Well, as you know, the town is in trouble.”

Missy Peeple could not help the expression she knew tightened her skin and narrowed her eyes, drawing her mouth into a straight line. Of course she knew! It was because of this town’s sudden interest in conscience that she was not able to save it in the first place. Now, of course, he needed her help.

As far as she was concerned, she’d done all she could. Her life savings was gone, and she was still eagerly awaiting Skary’s transformation into a haven for cat lovers. Yet this town was all too willing to accept another fate. Why should she risk anything more to help save it?

“What about it? Shouldn’t you be talking with the one man who is responsible? Boo could’ve stopped all of this from happening if he’d had the sense not to fall in love. Have you heard the man is selling cars? What is wrong with him?”

Marty cleared his throat. “I don’t blame Boo. A lot of things have happened over the years to make Skary what it is and isn’t today. But I still think there is hope to save our town.”

An eternal optimist always prompted a lengthy sigh. “So why are you here?”

“I believe in the deepest part of my heart, Miss Peeple, that the key to our future lies within our past.”

“Is that so?”

“If we understood our roots, maybe we could find an identity again. Maybe we could understand why we were born, so to speak.”

Missy threw off the quilt and rose, gesturing for Martin to get her cane. After he did, she walked over to the table where she always kept a pitcher of water. Pouring herself a drink, she cleared her mind of anxieties, trying to convince herself she held the power in this situation. But that wasn’t exactly true anymore. In a desperate, perhaps noble, attempt to save Skary, Indiana, she may have made one fatal mistake.

She turned back to Marty, forcing calm into her voice. “Martin, do you really believe anybody cares why this town was born? People go about their day-to-day business, forgetting who is responsible for their well-being, mindless of who might help them in their future. All they know is how to get through the day.”

“I agree. But maybe knowing about this town could spark something, you know? Maybe it will cause a resurgence.”

“Every day more and more people leave. I noticed just yesterday that the fish and tackle shop is closing.”

“I know,” Marty sighed. “Tha’ts why I’m desperately seeking the truth. The trouble is, the truth does not seem to want to be found.”

“Oh?”

“Records, documents, everything related to Skary’s history seems to have vanished. Rather, it has been taken. I don’t know why, but I intend to find out. Right now, I was hoping you would know about this town, Miss Peeple. I was hoping you’d heard stories your forefathers had told, that perhaps you’d written something down, or maybe had a journal passed down through the generations. I know the basic history of Skary, like when it was founded and what was built where. But I need to know the heart, do you understand? I want to understand
why
it came into being.”

Missy shuffled over to a nearby window, staring out at her limited view of the town. People and cats scurried here and there. Marty wanted the truth. But the truth would mean everything she had worked a lifetime to achieve would suddenly be ripped from her. It meant a sacrifice she was not willing to make.

Besides, she reminded herself, she no longer held the keys to the truth. She’d entrusted those to Wolfe Boone. She wasn’t sure why. She only knew that perhaps the man who had wrecked their town should hold a new burden on his shoulders. Maybe that burden would be to find out the truth and then to decide what to do with it. Or maybe the burden would come in finding out the truth too late, and knowing he could’ve done something about it.

At any rate, she’d wiped her hands clean of it. She had told him that the key to the town was inside the pages of his book. Whether he wanted to find the truth or not was up to him.

Missy turned to Marty. “I’m sorry, dear. I don’t know anything. My family did not share any secrets, if that’s what you are after.”

“Not secrets. Just truth.”

Missy shook her head. Her body told her to sit back down. “I have no stories to tell. Only the story of my own life, which may come to an end very soon.”

Marty’s perpetually dull eyes lit with interest. “Why would you say that?”

Missy dismissed the thought of drawing sympathy … more like pity … from Marty. “I am old, after all. That is why you’re here, isn’t it?” She smiled.

Martin rose and went to the front door. “Thank you for your time.” Heavy disappointment rang in his tone.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help more.”

Her visitor nodded and then left quietly. Missy could not identify the emotion that strained her throat. Remorse? Relief? Whatever the case, it was nothing a good hard peppermint couldn’t cure.

CHAPTER 19

W
OLFE HAD TO WORK LATE
, and Ainsley’s father had decided to take Thief to a therapist, so she found herself alone in the house. Which was probably a good thing. She’d spent the day running around the town trying to play catch-up on all the wedding plans she’d failed to make in the earlier weeks. She’d accomplished only half of what she needed to do.

By the afternoon, she found herself trembling from anxiety, and exhausted. She took an hour nap before getting up and realizing she hadn’t even planned dinner yet. She threw together a simple casserole and then sat in the living room, sketching out her ideas for flower arrangements.

The Nativity set caught her eye. She observed it, trying to find a way to reconcile herself to the fact of the missing Wise Men. After all, the most important figure of the entire set was there: Baby Jesus. Mary and Joseph didn’t seem bothered by it. The shepherds were probably happy about it, no rivaling porcelain figures on the other side of the mantel.

As she stared at the scene, she found herself observing the fact that everybody up on that mantel knew all they should about themselves. The shepherds had their role. The angels had theirs. The animals knew where to stand. Mary and Joseph’s whole life had been defined for them. And Baby Jesus … his whole life’s work was to help others define themselves as children loved by God.

And Ainsley Parker knew what hers was too. It certainly wasn’t as noble as being the mother of the Savior of the world, but nevertheless, it gave her an identity all her own. And according to Alfred, she would be doing it on a much larger scale very soon. It was nice to have some-one
believe in everything you’d suspected about yourself for years but didn’t have the courage to articulate. Nobody would’ve believed in her talents. Not even herself! She just knew what she was good at, and she’d tried really hard to be even better. Now it was paying off.

She walked over to the mantel and gently picked up Jesus. The mystery of how a little Baby Boy could hold her in His hands was tucked deep into her heart.

A knock came at her door, and she gently set the figure back where it belonged. At the door, she was surprised to see Alfred.

“Hi.” She smiled.

“May I come in?”

“Of course.”

Alfred led the way into the living room. “I have good news,” he said.

“What?”

“Harper Jones is very interested in seeing more of you.”

“Really!” She reminded herself that jumping up and down like a schoolgirl was not going to portray the right image. She clasped her hands and smiled graciously.

“It’s true. But he needs to see you in action.”

“What does that mean? Should I have him over for dinner?”

“No. More like we need to find that big event you can be in charge of. We’ll bring a TV crew out to tape it. We’ll edit it up and format it like we would a TV show. It would be a sort of pilot. If they like what they see, Ainsley, you could be on your way to stardom.”

Ainsley shook her head. She could hardly believe it. Looking at Alfred she said, “But what kind of event?”

“I don’t know,” Alfred admitted. “We’re going to have to find something. I’ll be thinking about it.” Alfred took her hands and smiled warmly. “This is it, kiddo. This is your moment. Time for you to shine. All these years you’ve been in that kitchen working your tail off, probably for the most part underappreciated. But it has all paid off now. Thanks to Martha’s little downfall, my friend, you may be rising faster than a loaf of basil-tomato bread.”

Ainsley nodded, but she couldn’t help but feel a little grief. It was
hard to take the place of someone so great. Alfred squeezed her hands. “don’t fret, Ainsley. This is what you were born to do.”

Thoughts of big kitchens, fancy serving dishes, and gourmet foods were interrupted by Alfred looking up at the mantel and saying, “Hey. Where are the Wise Men?”

Wolfe was trying his hardest to control his emotions. But right now all he wanted to do was berate this impossibly indecisive customer. For five hours now this man, Mr. Hyatt, had been on the car lot. The Road to the Sale had taken an hour. Since then, they’d been haggling over pennies. And it wasn’t just Mr. Hyatt, though he was a penny pincher if there ever was one. But it was also Oliver, who refused to consent or even meet halfway. Sure, they weren’t going to make a ton of money off the deal, but wasn’t a little money better than nothing? Looked as if they could bring in about four hundred dollars.