A Festival of Murder by Tricia Hendricks Read Free Book Online Page A

clutched at his chest.
    Dennis
blushed, although his eyes greedily soaked up the pages of the opened album in
Nicholas’s hand. “I came back because I’d forgotten to tell you that Kevin
wanted you to know that he talked to that Detective Canberry this morning. I
guess he wanted you to have the heads-up.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Didn’t
mean to make it look like I was snooping. I couldn’t find you in the kitchen
and so I, um . . . .”
    “Went
snooping. Yes, perfectly understandable.” Nicholas contemplated murder but
discarded the idea as being very incriminating. “Get out.”
    Wincing,
Dennis danced backward. “I’m already out the door. Consider me gone, Mr.
Trilby!”
    “I’ll
consider you a nuisance,” Nicholas said. He collapsed against the wall and
listened for the sound of the front door shutting. He must have forgotten to
lock it. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. He’d had his fill of unexpected
visitors.
    He
tossed the album atop the sweaters and slammed the closet door behind him. Two
minutes later he returned to the closet and tucked the album carefully beneath
the Rudolph sweater.

4
     
     
    “The
UFO-eating contest is at eleven.” Emma pointed a feather duster at him. “You’re
announcing the start and crowning the winner.”
    “Why
does it have to be me?” Nicholas’s fingers rat-a-tat-tat’ed on the counter
while his right foot jiggled against one leg of the stool on which he sat. “I
bet Charles would love to do it. He made those pies. It would raise his
self-esteem to witness someone eating one without having been dared to.”
    “You,”
Emma said, “are a very bad man.”
    Nicholas
shrugged, unable able to refute that.
    After
an unexpectedly profitable morning rush, no doubt spurred by his hot, new
status as Suspect Number One, the shop was quiet again, leaving just him and
the twins inside Alien Artifacts.
    Emma
and Bea weren’t really twins as far as he knew. They had different last names
and they simply looked different. Emma was tall and thin, withered like
an old stalk of corn but with the sharp eyes of a crow. Bea was the opposite: a
good foot shorter than Emma with rounded shoulders that made her appear even
smaller and sort of curled up like a pill bug. One day the two elderly women
had walked into Alien Artifacts, Emma leading the charge, and declared they
were going to be Nicholas’s new volunteers. Only somehow “volunteers” had
turned into “permanent staff” and at no point did Nicholas recall ever saying
he was okay with any of it.
    “Your
presence at the contest will make the visitors very excited,” Bea told him.
Like Emma, she sported her own duster. The two women appeared to be trying
their best to create a dust storm within the small shop. “You’re an inspiration
to them, Nicholas.”
    “Why?
Because I went only partially insane after having contact with aliens?”
    “Oh,
honey, you’re not insane at all. Just a bit . . . twitchy.”
    “Don’t
coddle him! He’s going to act like an even bigger baby about this.”
    “Having
no interest in watching grown men vomit up green pies isn’t me being a baby,”
Nicholas shot back.
    The
storm that was promised through the weekend seemed to have taken a breather.
The snow fell in heavy sheets but the wind had settled, so tourists and locals
were making the most of the break and sledding through the center of town,
doing their best to bruise as many unprotected shins and ankles as possible. A
snow-alien-making contest was being held across the street in front of the
General Store. The audience’s cheers of encouragement occasionally slipped
beneath the door of Alien Artifacts like unsolicited flyers for pizza.
    The
business brought in by the festival was a boon. He couldn’t argue the register
receipts. But he also couldn’t help wishing for a better Internet connection in
Hightop so he could close the shop and sell his junk solely online. If he never
had to meet another fan