Fete Worse Than Death (9781101595138) by Claudia Bishop Read Free Book Online Page B

embezzlement. Maybe.”
    “Holy crow.” Dina looked longingly at Marge’s beer, then at Quill, and then took a sip of her water. “Holy
crow
.”
    Quill shook her head. “That’s absurd. Adela as an embezzler? I don’t believe it for a minute.”
    “Maybe,” Marge said, “and maybe not. And maybe that’s the burr under my saddle. You three don’t realize how much money flows through the fete.”
    “I do, actually,” Quill said. “I mean, I didn’t before I agreed to be on the steering committee, but we’re talking several hundred thousand dollars here.”
    Miriam’s mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding me.”
    Marge looked grim. “I don’t kid about money. Think about it. The booth fee is two hundred a day, for three days. There are a hundred and twenty booths. That’s…”
    “Seventy-two thousand dollars,” Dina said.
    “Right.” Marge’s grim expression relaxed a little. She had a soft spot for quick minds. “Then there are advance ticket sales. Three-day pass is ninety bucks, the fete’s sold more than two thousand of those already and that’s…”
    “Nineteen thousand dollars. Holy
crow
.” Dina looked at Quill. “I think I need a beer.”
    Quill smiled. “I think not. Not until your shift’s over.”
    “Listen up, here.” Marge rapped her knuckles on the table. “What with this and that, Adela’s got a hundred k in that fete account, easy. A hundred grand is a powerful temptation.”
    Quill looked at the plate of chicken salad in front of herthat Nate just served, picked up her fork, and set it down again. “I don’t believe it.”
    Marge took a large bite of hamburger and said, rather thickly, “I don’t believe it, either.” Her face reddened a little. “On the other hand, there are those that find a hundred k kind of pocket money, so to say, and then there are those that see it as a substantial pile. I’d put the Henrys in the second category.”
    “That’s outrageous, Marge,” Miriam said furiously.
    “Hang on to your pigtails, Miriam. I’m not accusing Adela of a thing. All’s I’m saying is that there are some folks who’d be more tempted than others.”
    “I see Marge’s point, Miriam,” Quill said in as evenhanded a way as she could manage. “The mayor’s salary is what, forty thousand a year? And Adela doesn’t have an outside job. It’s not all that much to live on these days.” Quill leaned forward, controlling her voice with an effort. “What you’re overlooking, Marge, is the kind of dedication the Henrys have to the village. They’re the most…the best…” Quill floundered. “They’d never do a thing to harm us. What kind of proof did Carol Ann offer, anyway?”
    “Not a shred,” Miriam said promptly. “What she did is call for an investigation.”
    “Just like the Republicans plugging up the senate. That’s Carol Ann all over,” Dina said, with a surprisingly objective tone. “Mean as a snake.” She caught, too late, the scent of Prell shampoo, and clapped her hand over her mouth.
    “Thank you so much, Miss Dina Muir.”
    Carol Ann’s poisonously sweet voice came fromsomewhere behind Quill’s left shoulder. She turned around. “Hello, Carol Ann.”
    Carol Ann ignored her. “I see you ended that Chamber meeting pretty darn quick, Marge Schmidt. Is it maybe because you know something about Adela Henry? You want to let the rest of us in on your sneaky little secrets?”
    Quill discovered she was furious. “Sit down, please. There are a couple of things we’d like to discuss with you.”
    Carol Ann’s perfectly arched eyebrows rose. “Like what?”
    “Like what kind of proof you have Adela’s involved in anything at all.”
    “Love to, Quill. But I haven’t a minute. I came to fetch Marge and you, too, since you’re on the committee.”
    Quill took a moment to sort this through. She was on too many committees. Booth committee. The Furry Friends committee. The arts committee. And now this committee to keep the Craft