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Authors: Shelley Freydont

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BOOK: Trick or Deceit
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“Anyway,” Jon said. “I didn't want you to see me in town and think I was here early to spy on you.

“Of course not,” Liv said, though they both knew that surprise visits could make or break an event or a fund-raising campaign.

“You don't mind if I borrow him for the morning, Liv?” Amanda posed it as a question, but Liv read it as a fait accompli.

“Not at all. I was just running out on an errand. Why don't I walk out with you?”

Liv needed to talk to A.K. about the permit for the soapbox orator. But Ted could bring him up to speed. If he wasn't already. A.K. Pierce seemed to have eyes everywhere. But right now she needed to make sure Amanda and Jon weren't accosted by the doom and gloom man.

“Let me just tell Ted I'm leaving.”

She went quickly into the other room, where Ted and A.K. were talking quietly, their heads bent.

“Change of schedule, it seems. I'm going to walk out with Jon and Amanda. I don't want them running into the eyesore on the corner on their own.”

“He's got a permit,” A.K. said. “Or I would have had someone see him to the county line.”

“Yes. Ted, could you talk to the mayor about that?”

Ted nodded.

“And then make sure he does something about it?”

“Check and check.”

“Great, thank you.” She started to go back into her office but turned to Ted. “Do I look okay?”

“Divine,” Ted said.

A.K. nodded brusquely.

Liv grabbed her coat and went to get the others.

Ted waylaid the mayor as they left the office, and Liv and Jon and Amanda made their way outside.

Walking down the steps of town hall, Jon slipped his arm around Liv's waist and leaned over until his mouth was close to her ear. “You look like a real country girl.”

Just what she had feared; she was losing her edge. “Fits the venue.”

“Now there's my Liv. Though I must say, there's something really appealing about you in corduroy and Fair Isle knit.”

“And totally out of place standing next to you.”

“Oh, I brought my casual weekend clothes. I just wanted to wow you on my first day here.”

Liv laughed. If he only knew—and she was sure he did—that he was the one they hoped to wow.

They crossed the street to the park where a man was leaning against the hood of a dark green Land Rover. He saw them coming and stood up. He was tall and well-built, with dark wavy hair and a chiseled chin and cheeks. Amanda's husband, Rod Crosby.

“Oh, there you are, Rod,” Amanda said. “Did you have trouble parking?”

“Just had to go round the block a couple of times.” He leaned over and kissed Amanda's cheek.

Jon gave Liv his most sardonic look before he leaned close and said, “A real piece of work, that one.”

Oh,
thought Liv. Jonathon Preston, international philanthropist and distributor of charity and goodwill, did not like Rod Crosby—at all. She wondered why.

Rod was good looking but didn't hold a candle to Jon, if you like a more refined look. And Jon in his Savile Row bespoke suit and Armani loafers actually managed to look less out of place than Rod in his khakis and polo sweater. And infinitely more interesting.

Amanda took her husband's arm and the four of them struck off toward Yolanda's store.

It was a clear, crisp day after the rain. A perfect fall day in Celebration Bay. But Liv wasn't conscious of the weather. As they strolled down the sidewalk, she kept her eyes open for the prophet who was no longer standing on the corner.

Maybe she could get them to Yolanda's store without being accosted.

They were walking past the Corner Café, and Liv was thinking they were home free, when the doomsday prophet jumped out of the alley, waving his hands. He was dressed all in black and his face was thin and pale and his eyes were bloodshot. Liv thought he must be drunk.

“Save yourselves, flee Sodom and Gomorrah before it's too late. End to all devil worshippers!”

Liv gritted her teeth and kept the others moving.

“Is this part of the entertainment?” Jon asked.

“No, he just showed up on Friday. Evidently someone gave him a permit to stand there. We're working on having it rescinded. Not the family-friendly Halloween we celebrate here.”

Jonathon chuckled. “He's not nearly as good as the ones on Thirty-fourth Street.”

“No, but he's just as persistent. Hopefully he'll be gone by this afternoon. Please try just ignore him.” Liv looked over her shoulder. He was gaining on them.

“They shall fall like—”

Ahead of them, the door to the Mystic Eye opened and Yolanda Nestor stepped out. Today she was wearing harem pants and an ankle-length, flowing vest over a burgundy scoop-necked blouse. The outfit made her look quite exotic, which Liv assumed lent ambience to the store and was probably good for business. Yolanda saw them and hurried over.

“Amanda! I didn't know if you would make it in today. The girls just called and they're only a block away.” The two women hugged.

“The girls?” Rod said.

“Members of my . . . ?” Yolanda lowered her voice. “Co-o-o-o-ven.”

Her tone ran goose bumps up Liv's arm.

“You'll love them,” she said in her normal voice.

“Witch, witch, burn in hell!” the protester yelled, but Liv noticed he was keeping his distance from Yolanda.

“Okay, that's enough.” Liv pulled out her phone and speed-dialed A.K., who she bet was still upstairs with Ted. “We have a situation down here on the street.”

“We saw it and we're on our way.” On his words the door to town hall opened and A.K. came running down the steps, followed by Ted.

“Go back to Hades, you witch!” The man shook his fist at Yolanda. Today he seemed more menacing than annoying.

“You know, I'm getting awfully tired of you,” Yolanda said.

A.K. was already at the corner when a maroon, soccer-mom minivan pulled up in front of the store.

Liv fervently hoped there would be no violence to scare the tourists away.

All four doors opened at once, and four women who looked just like suburban housewives got out of the car and swept forward like avenging angels.

The Four Soccer Moms of the Apocalypse,
Liv thought.
Go for it, girls.

They surrounded the heckler and began to chant, and with the chant they grasped hands and began to circle. Not widdershins, Liv was glad to note.

Across the street, A.K. and Ted had stopped in their tracks and were staring in fascination.

“Back, you Devil's handmaids—!” His words ended in a gurgle. The circle opened in between two of the women and the protester fell backward. A.K. was there to cart him away.

“Well,” said Jonathon. “You certainly know how to entertain a guy.”

Yolanda stretched out her arms. “Perfect timing as always, girls. Let me introduce you all to four of my sisters. Maddie, Gilda, Susanna, and Christie. Welcome to Celebration Bay and the Mystic Eye.”

“Hi,” Liv said.
Always something new in Celebration Bay.

Yolanda introduced everyone, including Ted, who had joined them. There was some squealing and laughing as the women all crowded into the store, leaving Rod, Jonathon, Ted, and Liv on the sidewalk.

“Whew,” Rod said. “What a bunch of crazy women.”

Jonathon raised an eyebrow. “I really wouldn't say things like that in front of Yolanda,” he said. “She's bound to take offense.”

“I'm sure I don't care. If Amanda hadn't insisted on opening up the fish camp cabins so they could do their hocus-pocus on our property, we'd be in Miami by now.”

Jon's jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

Rod shrugged. “I'll wait by the car.” He strode off, hands in his trouser pockets.

Liv saw A.K. coming toward them, empty-handed.

“What happened to the, uh . . .”

“Handed him off to a couple of my operatives. They've taken him to the mayor. Let him deal with the man.”

Ted snorted politely behind his fist. A.K. looked completely bland.

“But will he—? Maybe I should go see.”

“A.K. and I will take care of it,” Ted said. But he and A.K. just stood there.

“Listen,” Jonathon said, slightly amused. “I didn't come early to throw your schedule off. Go take care of what you need to and meet us over at the inn at one. Will that work for you?”

Liv glanced at Ted. “Absolutely. See you then.”

“I think I'll go move Amanda along or she'll be in there all day. Until lunch then.” He gave Liv his most charming smile.

Ted and A.K. watched as Jon walked to the door. He stopped on the threshold, turned back, and winked at Liv, then nodded to both Ted and A.K. and shut the door.

Liv turned to face Ted and A.K. They were both still staring at the door.

One look at their solemn faces and Liv tried not to smile. “We're just friends.”

No change in their expressions.

“Really, guys. He's just amusing himself.”

Nothing.

“Really. That wink? He's playing you.”

She just hoped he wasn't playing her.

Chapter Ten

A.K. and Ted waited for Liv to walk past them and then they fell in step beside her.

She glanced from one to the other. “What?”

“Nothing,” A.K. said.

She switched her focus to Ted.

He shrugged. “Nothing.”

Liv wondered what was up. Had they expected trouble? But why?

She stopped. They stopped. “How did you guys get here so quick?”

Ted shrugged. A.K. didn't even twitch.

“You were already leaving the building when I called you.” Liv glanced up to her office window, down to the corner where the protester had stood. “You were watching us from the window.”

No answer from either of the men.

“You were, weren't you? I know you were. That is so . . . Well, thank you.” She didn't know whether to be amused, annoyed, or flattered. They'd been watching her—or Jon or Amanda—from the window.

“Why?”

Ted looked confused. “No reason.”

They walked in silence back to the office. She hoped the witches weren't cause for alarm; they seemed like normal people. Though they had done that circle thing. But Liv knew the power of suggestion: The protester feared evil, equated them with evil, so was cowed when confronted.

“Simple psychology,” she said, mainly to herself, as they walked up the steps to town hall.

“What is?” asked Ted.

“Oh, just that ranter and his fear of witchcraft.”

“The women did seem rather sweet.” Ted sounded relieved. He held the door open. “I would like to see their Samhain ritual.”

“Are outsiders invited?”

“Don't even think about adding that as an event,” A.K. said.

Ted and Liv both stared at him.

“They wouldn't like the commercialization, and there are more where that street corner howler comes from.”

“Volatile situation,” Liv said.

“Volatile.”

Ted and A.K. followed Liv into her office. Liv sat and riffled through the folders on her desk for the one marked
Security
.

“Did you know they were friends?” A.K. asked.

“Amanda and Yolanda? No. I really only met Amanda recently and Yolanda briefly on Saturday.”

“I think he means Jonathon Preston and Amanda.” Ted looked particularly bland-faced.

“No, he never mentioned it. Why?”

Neither of the men spoke.

“What? You think we're on the grant list because of Amanda? That would be a case of overkill, wouldn't you say? She already donated ten K to the winner. Though from what people say, she could finance the entire center if she wanted to.” Liv paused.

“She could, but I can't imagine why she would want to,” Ted said. “It's not like she's ever in town or shown an interest in what goes on here. Strange that she should come forward now. Perhaps this guy Preston suggested it.”

Liv narrowed her eyes. “Because he isn't going to approve the grant request and he's trying to soften the blow?”

“It's a possibility.”

Liv hadn't allowed herself to wonder what would happen if they didn't receive the grant money. She knew it was a crowded market, everyone working on shoestring budgets. And friends didn't get priority. Which was why she'd hired a professional grant writer to help her draft a proposal.

She pushed it out of her mind and opened the security folder. For the next few minutes they discussed the usual points in crowd safety.

“Bill has assigned extra patrol cars for the weekends, especially the actual Halloween weekend,” A.K. said. “I'd like to add at least eight more operatives on foot. And four additional sets of two operatives at each major event location within the town limits.”

“Do you have any specific locations in mind?” Liv knew it was a stupid question. Of course he did. He was a man in control. “What I mean is—”

“At the Lindquist site, at each quadrant of the park during the zombie parade, and outside the movie house before and after the play.”

“You think there might be problems at the theater?”

“That play
Little Shop of Horrors
has a cult following, and any time you have passionate people, things are easily ignited.” He looked seriously at Liv.

Over a man-eating plant?
Still, Liv's mouth went a little dry. “Well, yes. I see how they could. And how much will this cost me?”

He reached in his briefcase. Handed hard copies to Ted and her. Kept one for himself.

It had a hefty price tag. But not nearly as hefty as the fallout from too little security might be. The town had insurance that they paid an exorbitant premium for. It was one of the few things the trustees all agreed on. No one wanted to get sued for negligence. Or anything else.

Liv pulled up the budget file on her laptop. They were getting to the top of their security budget and there was still Thanksgiving and Christmas to get through before the new budget would be considered. “Ted?”

“I think A.K. is right. We can cut down some for the next two holidays, mainly keep security on shops and parking lots.”

Liv nodded. “Do you what you need to do.”

A.K. nodded and put his papers back in the briefcase.

“But keep me posted on the hours and services. I don't want to have to go to the board and beg for more money.”

The corner of A.K.'s mouth twitched.

She'd amused him. She smiled back at him and shrugged.

The phone rang and Ted went into his outer office to answer it, leaving A.K. and Liv half smiling at each other.

Ted was back a minute later. “They found Lucille Foster's car.”

“Where?” Liv asked.

Ted sat down. “In the parking lot over behind the bakery and the other stores.”

“And they're just finding it now?”

“Hidden in plain sight,” A.K. said, his deep voice rumbling.

“Do you think that was it? Was whoever killed her trying to hide the car? Why not dump it in a back alley or off a deserted road?”

“I'm sure that's what the police thought. They were looking for an abandoned car.” A.K. turned to Ted. “Did Bill say if they found any signs of struggle?”

“No, not on first inspection, but they're having it towed and will have a forensics team look over it.”

“Did they find her shoes?” Liv asked.

Ted shook his head. “But he's still on site.”

No one needed encouragement; the three stood simultaneously and headed for the door.

They retraced their steps past the Corner Café but turned into the alley before they reached Yolanda's store, the Mystic Eye.

“We were just here and didn't hear or see anything. Thank heaven,” Liv added. “That's all we need Jon to see.”

They hurried past the side of the Mystic Eye and went through the opening to one of the town's several parking lots. This one took up most of the interior of the block, stretching the length of the stores on the main square.

Lucille's Jaguar was already sitting on the bed of an Arlen Towing and Plowing flatbed truck. Several police cars were parked nearby, preventing anyone from entering the area, though they had attracted a fairly large crowd that huddled around the several pedestrian openings that led across the alley to the stores. The county crime scene van was just pulling away.

Bill saw them and walked over. He was moving slow.

Liv sent a quick prayer to the sciatica gods that he would make it through this investigation without pain.

Bill placed both hands in the small of his back and stretched.

“You okay?”

“Yep.”

“They're taking Lucille's car away already?” Liv asked.

“We've been here for a couple of hours.”

A.K. lifted his eyebrows toward the sheriff.

As if he'd asked the question, Bill said, “Doesn't look like it was used. But we're taking it in for a thorough forensic look.”

“What about her shoes?” Liv asked.

Bill shook his head. “We searched the vicinity, underneath cars, in the Dumpsters. Nothing. I'd better get back.”

“Bill,” Liv said quickly. “Is Ernie still in jail?”

“Had to let him out. There's nothing as yet to connect him to Lucille's death. He's still under suspicion of vandalism, but until we can prove it, we can't keep him. Not that I want to. What a dumb-ass thing to do.”

“If he did it,” Ted said.

“Who else would?” Liv asked.

Ted gave her a look. “You've been here a year. I bet if you set your mind to it, you could name a dozen possible candidates . . . without even thinking much.”

“You think the vandalism might just be coincidental to Ernie lashing out about losing to Barry?”

Ted threw up both hands. “Don't look at me. I don't know anything.”

And if Ted didn't know anything, it meant neither did anyone else. Because it didn't matter how hush-hush something was, how deep the secret, no matter how tight lips were over any bit of news, Ted always knew. He was Celebration Bay's Gossip Exchange Central. Yet Liv had hardly ever caught him actually gossiping. He just seemed to learn what was happening by some kind of osmosis.

“Well, let us know what and when you can,” Ted said. “We have to get back to the office. Liv has a lunch date.”

Bill eyebrows shot up. “A date or a meeting?”

“A meeting and luncheon with Amanda Marlton-Crosby and her husband and the representative of the grant foundation.”

“Oh, well, have a nice lunch. I hope you get lots of money for the community center.” Bill nodded to them and went back to work.

“Well, we'd better get you back if you going to primp for your luncheon date.”

“Would you stop it? It's just business.” Liv glanced at her watch. No time to walk home and get to the inn in time. They'd just have to put up with her work clothes. Besides, Amanda and Rod were pretty casually dressed.

Liv headed for the town hall ladies' room and freshened up as best she could with the scant makeup she carried with her, then headed to the inn.

Jon was sitting in the foyer reading a newspaper when Liv arrived promptly at one. He saw her, folded the paper, and put it on the table next to him. It was a copy of the
Celebration Bay Clarion.

“Just catching up on the local news. You have a very active Four-H Club here.”

Liv couldn't tell if he was being serious or sarcastic. “It's their busy season,” she said, straight-faced.

He laughed, a friendly baritone sound that invited more laughter.

“You should see some of the pumpkins they've grown,” Liv continued. “Not to mention the animals. Unfortunately you missed the county fair.”

“Yes, most unfortunate.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Amanda and Rod will be here soon. She volunteered him to help move some boxes for Yolanda and company. She just called to say they were on their way and to get a table.”

He guided her into the dining room, a bright windowed room that overlooked the lake. The tables were covered with white linen tablecloths and napkins.

Liv rarely ate here, preferring the bar across the foyer, which had a low-key, casual environment couched in dark wood wainscoting and tall-backed booths.

The hostess showed them to a table set at a diagonal to the windows, giving all four diners a bit of view. Jon held a chair for Liv, then sat in the chair to her left.

“So fill me in,” Liv said as soon as the waitress had taken their drink orders, Liv's a seltzer with lime and Jon's a Pellegrino.

He smiled, his eyes crinkling in that same attractive way they had when they'd first met. She'd been coordinating a fund-raising weekend for several related charities. His smile had separated him from the other suits, though he was serious and questioned every line item on her budget.

In those days she didn't have to worry too much about tight budgets, thanks to well-heeled fathers of the bride, corporate executives with a seemingly unlimited entertainment business, or oil men visiting the city and inviting the crème de la crème of society for a weekend cruise.

One of Liv's great assets had been to recognize who would spend what and how far they were really willing or able to go.

“Are we talking business already?” Jon asked.

“No, well, not exactly. But last I heard you were in Bangkok or someplace until this coming weekend.”

“True. Is this a problem?”

“Of course not. I'm just surprised.”

“Well, I finished up early. The organization there has to have a total restructuring before we can funnel funds into it. Much too much waste. So I came back until they get it together. No one was pleased, not on our side or theirs. Nor me, I'm still jet-lagged.

“I meant to take a few days to get back on daylight savings time and catch up on some sleep before I came up here. But the best-laid plans and all that . . .”

“I didn't realize you knew Amanda.”

“Oh, we're old chums. Though I haven't seen her for ages. Our fathers are on some of the same boards and the families belong to those clubs you always made fun of.”

“I did not. It was just when you showed up to the Hart's meeting wearing that ridiculous-looking yachting outfit.”

“And I'll tell you what I told you then.”

“I remember.” Liv lowered her voice and said primly, “‘This is the official Yacht Club uniform.'” She bit back a laugh. “Though I have to admit you looked awfully cute.”

Jon rolled his eyes. “If my father heard that, he'd have an apoplectic fit. And I, of course, would never say that you look just as cute as a fresh-faced country girl.”

“Well, if I'd known you were going to show up out of the blue, I would have dressed accordingly.”

“No, no, I love the way you look.” He sighed heavily. “Actually I envy you the comfort factor.”

“So you decided to pay Amanda a visit before your official visit?”

“Yes, a rather delicate subject, which . . .” He looked toward the entrance doors, smiled, and waved. “I'll tell you later. Though I must say you wear country with much more panache than poor Amanda.”

BOOK: Trick or Deceit
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