Foul Play at the Fair (12 page)

“Then Anton came and introduced himself and Pete disappeared. Pete never said he was a brother, but he certainly wanted me to think he was.”

“Hmm,” Bill said rubbing his back. “Anything else?”

Liv shook her head. “Another two brothers showed up and I got the hell out. But I stopped to look back. Pete was juggling those scarves and grinning like he’d just heard a good joke.” She sat back. “I guess that doesn’t really help. Just kind of substantiates Anton’s statement.”

“Of course, he could have lied to both of us.”

“To protect himself?” Liv asked.

Bill shrugged. “Maybe, but I couldn’t get anything else out of him. And I’m not gonna let them leave until I do. You didn’t happen to see when they left the green Saturday night?”

Liv thought back. “They were still there at ten. They couldn’t pack out their gear until after closing when the traffic crew let vehicles back in. But I didn’t notice if Pete was there or not. Sorry.”

“Doesn’t really matter. He wasn’t killed till after midnight at least.”

“I did think that maybe Dolly’s Peeping Tom might have been Pete made up in his white greasepaint.”

Bill jumped to his feet, wincing.

“That was probably one of the hill kids; they all get rambunctious this time of year. Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

Surprised, Liv stood up. The mention of Dolly had galvanized him into trying to get rid of her. Which meant she wouldn’t tell him about Ted’s confrontation with Pete, or about Fred saying that Joss was looking weird the night of Pete’s murder.

It was all just speculation, and it was obvious from Bill’s reaction that he didn’t want to hear anything that would point to one of his friends.

He drove her home, but they didn’t discuss the murder or much of anything. But before she got out of the car, she said, “Bill I know this is awful, but you have to help me. The town is depending on it.”

“I know. But I’m damned if I do and I’m damned if I don’t.”

“Why?”

“The state is already threatening to send in investigators.”

“That would be good, wouldn’t it? I mean, they have access to better equipment and faster results.”

“They don’t know the area or the people. They’ll come in stirring up all sorts of nonsense, rub people the wrong way, accuse people who might have a motive but have never broken the law in their lives, sow distrust and suspicion, because they’ll be working with a clean slate. They have no vested interest in us, just in upholding the law.

“I’ve seen it happen before, Liv. They might apprehend the killer, but they’ll destroy this town in the process.”

Peter Jacobsen Waterbury’s funeral was held on Wednesday morning at the First Presbyterian Church. The place was packed, as Ted had predicted. Most of the worshippers came to pay their respects to the Waterbury family. At least a few came out of pure curiosity.

A simple casket was placed at the front of the church with a profusion of wreaths and flower arrangements surrounding it. The mood was solemn and silent, which was unusual for the local inhabitants. Dolly and Fred were sitting near the front, their heads bowed. Andy Miller sat with Ted, though they seemed unaware of each other.

Bill Gunnison, dressed in a dark suit, stood at the back of the church, hands clasped behind his back, either acting as a greeter or looking for a killer; it was hard to tell. His expression was somber, almost angry. No one spoke to him as they passed.

Ida Zimmerman sat on the aisle next to her sister, Edna. She nodded to Liv and indicated an empty spot between
them and BeBe Ford. Liv smiled and sidestepped her way to the empty place.

“Nice turnout,” BeBe said, moving her folded coat to her other side. She was dressed in a muted gray dress.

Liv was glad she hadn’t worn black. She wasn’t sure about local funeral fashion and had opted for a brown wool skirt and tailored tweed jacket, one of her moving-to-the-country purchases, and it was subdued enough not to stand out at the funeral.

The back doors opened and Joss Waterbury guided his wife, Amanda, down the aisle to the front pew. Donnie and Roseanne followed, their eyes cast down at the floor. Roseanne wore a black skirt and sweater and looked very young compared to the hip seventeen-year-old of a few days ago. Donnie wore a black suit like his father. Dressed alike they bore a striking resemblance to each other…and to Pete Waterbury.

When they were seated, the Reverend Phillip Schorr climbed to the pulpit. The pastor was a young man who had moved to town a few years before. Liv wondered what he would find to say about the man no one liked.

Not much, as it turned out. After the usual introduction and a hymn, he read a few Bible verses and turned the floor over to Joss Waterbury.

Joss rose ponderously to his feet, as if his dark suit were made of lead. He seemed out of place without his overalls and flannel shirt. Older, tired, and ill at ease.

He climbed the two steps to the chancel and stood at the head of the coffin.

He cleared his throat. “My brother, Pete, was an unfortunate man. He just didn’t fit in and he didn’t care. But he was my brother and I hope he’s goin’ to a place that welcomes him at last.” He rested his hand gently on the coffin and shook his head.

The organ started up. Five other men rose from their seats
and joined him, and Liv realized they were pallbearers. Andy, Fred, Ted, Dexter Kent, and Rufus Cobb.

At least Pete was going out in style.

Amanda, Roseanne, and Donnie followed behind. When they were gone, the mourners rose. Quiet talk broke out among them.

BeBe reached for her coat. “There’s going to be a graveside service just for the immediate family; then everyone will meet at the Waterbury farm for lunch. I know they’d want you to be there.”

“I don’t know,” Liv said. “It’s a pretty solemn occasion among people who’ve known each other for a long time, and besides, I didn’t make anything.”

“That’s okay,” Miss Ida said. “Edna and I made extra.”

“Besides,” BeBe added. “There will be so much food nobody will notice. I’m driving Miss Edna and Miss Ida out. Why don’t you come with us? Save us taking both cars.”

“Thanks,” Liv said. “I’d like that.”

They all climbed into BeBe’s Subaru, Ida up front with BeBe and Liv and Edna in back.

“Well,” Edna said as BeBe pulled out of the parking lot. “I hope for Joss’s sake the place Pete’s going welcomes him with harp music, but for my money, I think he’ll go straight the other way.” She nodded her head portentously.

“Now, Edna, I had him in fourth grade,” Miss Ida said from the front seat. “He was a rambunctious child, but not any worse than most of the farm boys. They were used to doing chores and playing out of doors. A lot of them found it hard to sit still for lessons.”

“Pooh,” said her sister. “There’s rambunctious and there’s plain old troublemaking. And that fits Pete Waterbury to a
T
.”

“Maybe he had that attention deficit disorder, though we didn’t know about such things in those days.”

“Pooh. You’ve always made excuses for the misfits. Pete
Waterbury didn’t have anything that couldn’t have been cured by a few whacks on his bottom. But that Dr. Spock came along telling everybody not to spank their children, and look where it got us.”

“Sister, you never spanked a child in your life.”

“Well, I didn’t have any, did I?” said Edna.

“No, you didn’t, but not because Albert Johannsen didn’t try.”

“Pooh. Albert Johannsen didn’t have two pennies to rub together.”

BeBe glanced at Liv through the rearview mirror, her eyes twinkling. This was obviously a running theme between the sisters.

Liv pulled them back on track. “What about Joss? Was he…rambunctious?”

“Lord, no,” Miss Ida said. “Joss was in my class four years before Pete. And those two boys were like night and day. Even though they both took after their father in looks, Joss was the stable one. He was quiet and attentive. Maybe he somehow knew he’d be having to take over the farm early on.”

“Seems like,” said Edna. “He won a town scholarship to go over to the aggie school at Cobleskill, but he had to come home after two years when Joss Senior starting failing. A darn shame, too. Joss Senior died two years later and Joss took over the running of the farm.”

Miss Ida clucked her tongue. “Poor boy. But he’s done a fine job with it. And he married Amanda Pitts from over in Elizabethville. Such a nice girl.”

“By then Pete was really acting out,” Miss Edna said. “A big bully. Stealing and fighting. Then what he did to that unfortunate—”

“Here we are,” Miss Ida said as BeBe turned into the drive in front of the Waterbury store. Already it was filled with cars. BeBe offered to drive the sisters up to the house and then find a place to park.

“Good heavens, no,” said Miss Ida. “The exercise will do us good.”

But a young Latino man was standing in the yard and motioned them ahead. BeBe stopped by him and unrolled her window.

“Hi, Marco,” BeBe said. “Sad occasion.”

“Yes, miss. Mr. Joss, he saved you a place for your car by the house. I’ll show you.” He took off toward the private driveway.

“That Joss. So considerate, even in bereavement.” Miss Ida sighed.

Her sister gave her a look but refrained from comment, and they went inside with Liv wondering what Pete had done to that “unfortunate” somebody Miss Edna had been about to tell them about.

The living room was packed with people. Liv followed BeBe and the sisters to deposit their food offerings among the already heavily laden dining table. Then they wove through the crowd to where Amanda and Joss stood.

Joss stood like a sentinel, but Amanda smiled warmly and took each sister’s hand. “Thank you so much for coming. Joss?”

“What?”

“The Zimmerman sisters and BeBe and Liv are here.”

He looked at them as if he’d never seen them before but thanked them for coming. They all murmured something and moved on.

Ted stood across the room, talking with a man whose back was turned. He saw Liv and motioned her over. “I wondered if you’d come. I meant to call you.”

“BeBe said I would be remiss not to, but I feel a little out of place.”

The other man turned, and Liv did a double take worthy of a Saturday morning cartoon. Chaz Bristow, hair neatly combed, fingernails clean, wearing a dark gray, impeccably tailored suit, grinned down at her.

“Go on. Say it. I clean up real nice.”

Liv couldn’t keep from returning that megawatt grin in spite of the solemn occasion. “I’m just surprised—”

“That I bestirred myself to make an appearance.” His eyes flashed and for a second she thought she saw something that wasn’t boredom. “Joss is a good man and he doesn’t deserve this—” He caught himself but they both knew what he’d been about to say. “Unfortunate situation,” he finished.

“No. It’s really awful.”

“Oh hell, here comes Janine. Is no place sacred? See you later.” He disappeared into the crowd like vapor, not an easy feat for someone over six feet tall.

Janine didn’t slow down as she passed Liv and Ted.

“The woman is an indefatigable hunter, but it’s really a bit gauche at a funeral,” Ted said under his breath.

“What does she want with him? When I went to the
Clarion
office, he said Janine knew how to hold a grudge. Is there something between them? I mean, will whatever happened in the past affect how we do business with the
Clarion
now?”

“It shouldn’t.” He looked over the crowd.

“You know, that’s so annoying.”

“What?”

“How you make me wheedle every detail out of you.”

He smiled. “Just my innate dramatic sense. Can’t help myself.”

“Were you an actor?”

“Me? Lord, no. But I come from a long line of storytellers.”

Liv frowned at him. “Is that a euphemism for liars?”

“Nope. It’s the honest-to-God truth. But I thought you wanted to know about Chaz.”

“Only because it’s good to know your colleagues. The feud?” she prodded.

“Oh, that. Not anything interesting. Janine’s been divorced for quite a few years now. When Chaz came back she showed some interest in him. He didn’t reciprocate. You’ve probably
figured out by now, Janine likes to get her way. And she’s tenacious. Excuse me; I think Chaz needs help.”

Left alone, Liv took the opportunity to look around the room. It was a comfortable space with cushioned chairs and a plump couch. Extra chairs had been brought in but hardly anyone was sitting down. Most stood talking in small groups, holding plates of funeral foods, eating and chatting quietly, though as Liv looked around the room she saw that people were beginning to be a little more vocal and enjoying themselves more. Respectful, but not mournful. Pete Waterbury had had his fifteen minutes of fame.

Bill Gunnison stood on the far side of the room, looking uncomfortable and ignored by all. Feeling a little out of place herself, Liv turned to study the family pictures lined up across the shelf of a dark wood bookcase. A group shot of Joss and Amanda and all five children. Hank, the oldest, ran the cider mill, Ely had a farm in Vermont, and Elisabeth lived in Plattsburgh where she taught school.

Next to that was a picture of Roseanne and Donnie as young children standing in front of a huge white pine Christmas tree. One of Donnie in his football uniform. Roseanne, standing next to her father, smiling broadly and holding a soccer trophy. It had been taken several years ago. Roseanne’s red hair was held back in a ponytail and the smile showed a row of braces.

But it was the image of Joss that caught Liv’s attention. He looked just like his brother had looked only a few days before. It was so obvious that Liv knew anyone who had known Joss then must have recognized Pete. Now she was sure Ted had recognized him and had confronted him. And what about Dolly? Had she known who her Peeping Tom really was? A shiver rippled through her.

“That was eighth grade. We were the Essex Junior Champions.” Roseanne reached past Liv and picked up the photo.

“I never got to play soccer,” Liv said. “Did your dad come to all your games?”

“My dad?” Roseanne clutched the photo frame so tightly that her knuckles turned white. “Yeah, almost always, except if he got hung up at the mill. But most of them.” She placed the frame back on the shelf facing away from Liv.