Murder in a Basket (An India Hayes Mystery) by Amanda Flower Read Free Book Online Page A

quieted down, her teacher persona was firmly in place. “Listen up!”
    I wondered if I ’d ever be able to hear out my right ear again.
    “ One of our fellow crafters was attacked,” Carmen said. Her announcement silenced them.
    I inwardly groaned.
    Knute awakened from his comatose state. “Ma’am, the detective didn’t say you could tell the public.”
    Carmen looked down at Knute as if she was inspecting the expiration date on a gallon of milk. “Nor did he say I couldn’t tell them. These people here are crafters and vendors who paid good money to be a part of this festival.”
    “ But ma’am—”
    “ What happened? Tell us,” Lynette said with a crochet hook clenched in her small fist.
    The crowd agreed.
    “I’m sorry to report that Tess Ross is dead.”
    There was collective intake of horrified breath.
    One woman with red-blond hair standing away from the crowd burst into tears. She covered her mouth, and before I could ask who she was she ran off. I wondered if she was going to be sick.
    A beader interrupted my thoughts. She was a small woman wearing a white puff -sleeved blouse and brown sprig-patterned skirt that fell all the way to her shoes, which I assumed were twins of my wretched granny boots. She gasped. “Dead?”
    “ She died here at the festival?” someone called out.
    “ How could that happen?” the weaver asked.
    Carmen clapped her hands. “We don’t know anything yet. The police are just beginning their investigation. But”—she paused—“It looks like she was murdered.”
    Knute moaned softly and shot me a look of loathing. Like it was my fault, I thought. Please, I never claimed any semblance of control over any of my family members.
    “Murdered!” the crowd responded aghast.
    “ I know this is a shock, but the festival must go on. Detective Mains promised the festival will open on time. The scheduled activities will continue as planned. Being a crafter and annual participant of the Stripling Founders’ Festival, I believe that Tess would have wanted us to keep the festival going.
    “ The food vendors are free to set up their booths and stations at their present locations. However, the crafters and artists will have to move their booths to this side of the field. I suggest you all get to work now. We don’t have much time. I’m sure if you have any questions, Officer Knute will be happy to assist you.”
    Knute glared at my sister. I think she just overthrew my throne on his loathsome list.
    “Now if you will excuse me, I have some calls to make.” Carmen walked away. I hurried after her, but not before I saw the crowd gathered around Knute. I didn’t feel a bit sorry for him.
    I caught up with Carmen at the concessions area. Still walking at a fast pace, she plucked her cell phone from her purse pocket and speed-dialed. “Chip. Call a babysitter. I need all hands at the festival to move everything on time.”
    Knowing my brother-in-law would be there soon, I left my sister to her damage control.
    The food booths were already cooking. I inhaled the artery-clogging but simply delicious smells of fair food, and I realized that I was hungry. Unfortunately, most of the concession booths were empty as their owners tried to sneak a peek at the crime scene.
    While I knew I should move my booth, the subtle growling in my stomach distracted me enough that I took a detour toward the parking lot. I might have a granola bar somewhere in my car. The age of the granola bar was debatable, but my quest for breakfast gave me an excuse to avoid the scene of the crime.
    In the parking lot, Jerry was unloading his truck. My appetite left me.
    What was he doing here? Didn’t he know of Tess’s murder? Wasn’t it Mains’ s job to tell family members these things? Where was Mains?
    “ Good morning,” he said in a cheerful voice. He didn’t know yet, that much was obvious. He shut the pickup’s door and walked toward the practice field. I hurried over to him.
    “ Jerry,