A Murder In Milburn Book 2 Death Of A Deputy REVAMPED June 2016 SCRIVENER (3 page)

Harvey’s eyes lingered on Nora for just a second more, then he nodded, and walked away.

*****

Chapter 5

In no time, the celebrations had begun in full swing, and soon Nora had too much work on her hands to even raise her head and look about her. The hungry crowd milled in front of her, demanding everything from crepes, to kebabs, to coke. Nora handed these out, with a smile on her face, while Tina worked the cash register, and Mrs. Mullally helped by sitting in the corner and occasionally handing out ingredients as needed.
 

Nora appreciated both their help, though at the back of her mind, she still missed Raquel. Her best friend would have worked in perfect sync with Nora at a time like this. Afterwards, the two of them would have shared the day’s events over a cup of peppermint tea.

Still, this was nice too. The weather was hot for September, touching the 70s, and Nora soon removed her turtleneck and wore a simple white t-shirt as she worked.
 

She had positioned her stall well, right in front of the arena for competitions. The crowd that gathered around to watch various feats of strength like the throwing of logs and lifting of boulders also smelled her wares and came running back to her for seconds and thirds. Quite a few of the customers assured her that she had made some of the best crepes they’d ever tasted, and each time she was complimented, Nora felt a golden glow in the pit of her stomach. True contentment.

This was what she was born to do, to feed people, and make them happy. What better way to spend a life? Surely, there were people out there, who thought it was far nobler to be a scientist, or an explorer, or a CEO, but to Nora, there had only ever been one purpose in life, and she’d found it on a distant summer day when her father had first allowed her to handle the barbeque with him.

She remembered that day now, a garden party with balloons and jugs of pink lemonade, and her turning over the sausages carefully, as her father talked to her about how important it was that the meat be done just right. Not too well done, not too rare.

He would be proud of me now
, she thought and smiled to herself.

May Almand wandered by the stall once and bought a crepe, though she threw it away after a bite, with a little exclamation of, “A little
too
sweet for me.” Nora didn’t let this distract her in any way though Tina was quite livid.
 

“Horrible woman,” Tina said. “The worst part is that she’s the only writer for the
Milburn Report
. So she’s sure to be the one doing your review. I bet she’ll have some nasty words to say.”

“Oh, never mind her,” Nora said. “The people love it and that’s what counts.”

“The people have short memories,” Tina said, slightly depressed. “It’s what’s in print that counts.”

“Don’t be sad, dear,” Mrs. Mullally said. “Cheer up. The archers are coming in for the finals.”

There was a cheer from the crowd, and Nora declared a fifteen minute break for them to watch the archery finals.

The first heat of the archery competition had been a simple target shot, with ten winners moving on to the next round. The next round had consisted of rings suspended with cables in mid-air, with the competitors aiming to shoot the fruits that were suspended within the rings.

There were cries of applause as apples and watermelons fell to the ground, and a few of the triumphant archers raised their hands to work the crowd up.

The final heat was the most challenging, named
“Pluck the rose”.
The competition had artificial roses placed far from the archers, with their task being to cut the rose as close to the bud as possible. Of the five who had advanced from the round before, only one successfully “plucked the rose”, that is, cut its stem. The other arrows fell to the side, and the audience booed and sighed each time.

A cheer went up, and the winner was lifted on the crowd’s shoulders, then tossed up once, twice, three times, as people laughed and sang.

Nora, too, clapped in glee, enthralled by the events.

Eventually, the crowd drifted away to the concert, where JJ Johnson and the Jackhammer Squad began their songs. Far from being a Viking playlist, JJ Johnson and his squad had instead chosen to honor classic rock and metal bands. Soon, Nora could hear the crowd screaming and singing along to classics by The Scorpions, AC/DC and The Eagles.

She could hear JJ, that is, Wallis, scream quite clearly over the microphone. Harvey wasn’t wrong. Wallis was a charming rockstar on stage. Effortlessly, he roused the crowd to near hysteria with his crooning voice and his snake-like dance steps. Energy seemed to float in waves off his body, infecting the others till they screamed his name hoarsely.

The crowd had thinned out now, and Nora was taking a break, as her customers had all vanished. Tina and Mrs. Mullally vanished too, and Nora manned the stall, secure that they would come back once the dinner rush started.
 

“He’s quite something, isn’t he?” Sean asked, coming up and leaning on a pole. “Wallis. He always had a flair for drama in his work as deputy, but in his defense he was always an excellent interrogator. He’s very good with people. I hate to say this, but he’ll make an excellent sheriff.”

“Now that’s talk I don’t like to hear,” Nora said heatedly. “A finer sheriff than you I haven’t met on this continent.”

Sean laughed. “You didn’t let me finish my sentence, Nora. He’ll make an excellent sheriff, someday. But not this day.”

Nora could tell Sean was being brave, but the truth was, Harvey’s words had shaken him. She could see it in his eyes. Sean believed what Harvey had said, that he might be out of his office soon.
 

But knowing Sean, he wouldn’t go without a fight.

*****

Chapter 6

The concert ended with spectacular pyrotechnics, sparkles and flames erupting on stage as the crowd oohed and aahed.

Wallis bowed to everyone, and after a final strumming of his guitar, he raised his hands in the air and walked offstage.

“Brilliant!” Mrs. Mullally said, appearing quite star-struck. “What a star he is! What personality! It’s like seeing my old blue suede shoes superstars.”

Tina only harrumphed. “Oh, he’s all right. He’s good enough for the small town circuit, and he does play his gigs off and on in Jackson Hole. But I don’t think he’s good enough to quit his day job yet.”

“Talent shines wherever it’s kept,” Mrs. Mullally said. “What’s important is that he cares about what he’s doing, and treats his audience with a basic respect. That’s what differentiates the greats from the brats. That guitar wasn’t the only instrument Wallis was playing. He was playing the audience too.”

“You’re an odd one, Mrs. Mullally,” Tina laughed.

“I was a backup singer in the ‘60s,” Mrs. Mullally said. “I once went on tour with a lot of the big stars.”

“Like who?” Tina asked.

“Fleetwood Mac, Jimi Hendrix… a few others, like Zany Motts.” Mrs. Mullally sighed. “Well,
he
was a great one. Off-stage, he was all right, but onstage, he was nothing short of a god. He even stopped in at our little ol’ Milburn once, way back then. The town was all aflame.”

“Zany Motts? Mrs. Mullally!” Sean said, excited. “Here I thought you’d been a science teacher all your life! Zany Motts is a legend! My father used to play his records all the time. I loved his sound. Still play it when I want to get in a rock and roll mood.”

“It was last year that he died, wasn’t it?” Tina asked. “Found him two days later in his apartment, with his cats licking his face.” she shuddered at the thought.
 

“Poor man,” Mrs. Mullally said, with genuine pity in her voice. “He lived a superstar, but died alone and broke.”

“The funny thing is, it sparked a revival of his music,” Sean said. “One of his guitars even broke records when it sold for a little less than a million soon after. But it was no use to him, was it? Money’s all we think of when we’re alive, and it matters not at all when we’re dead.”

Nora nodded, feeling tired, and suddenly sleepy. She’d been on her feet since 5am, and the weariness hit her in a wave. She stretched and yawned, and Mrs. Mullally, noticing, suddenly said in a stern voice, “Nora Newberry. I declare. You haven’t taken more than fifteen minutes off all day. Enough is enough. Tina and I will handle things here for an hour, and you’re going to go watch the burning boat.”

“Oh, I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Nora protested.

“You don’t have to ask,” Tina said. “That’s what friendship is all about.”

Mrs. Mullally nodded.
 
“Now off with you. Go enjoy yourself thoroughly, and don’t come back.”

Nora protested a little more until Tina and Mrs. Mullally bodily ejected her and refused to let her back into the stall.
 

Laughing, she thanked them and moved to the bank of the lake where the crowd was now gathering, waiting for the fireworks and the burning of the boat to begin.
 

Sean had vanished, and Nora looked all around her, wondering where he could be.
 

“Looking for Sean?” a voice said at her elbow.

She jumped, and whirled around to see Harvey standing there. His sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, and tiny bits of leaves and debris were stuck to his messy hair.
 

“Harvey. What are you… where’s Missy?”

“Milly,” he said.

“Same thing,” Nora said. “Shouldn’t you be with your new girlfriend?”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Harvey said, defensively. “I’m just entertaining her while she tours the area. Her--”

“Sure you are,” Nora interrupted. “It’s not my business anyhow. You’re welcome to do as you please.”

“Am I?” Harvey asked. “You don’t care at all, do you? You’d be perfectly fine if I were dating her?”

“Yes,” she said, setting her jaw. “I would. I only wish happiness for you, Harvey. If she’s what makes you happy, go for it.”

His expression was unreadable as he stared at her. “So that’s how it’ll be? No rancor after the breakup? No bad feelings?”

“None at all,” she said.

“Well, I’ve got bad feelings.” Harvey declared, passion rising in his voice. “I’ve got very bad feelings about whatever’s going on between you and that Sean. Though I suppose you’ll tell me it’s not my business.”

“It’s not,” Nora said, blushing. “Sean’s just a friend.”

“A friend who gave you flowers,” Harvey pointed out. “A friend who wants to be more.”
 

“Well, it’s not your business. You’re the one who walked out, six months ago, back when I needed you so much.”

“I walked out because you didn’t need me at all,” Harvey said, his voice growing hoarse and thick. “Or have you twisted events around in your mind to blame me for it?”

“I haven’t--”

A roar of approval rose from the crowd, and Nora turned around to watch as eight men emerged from a covered shed, carrying the “Viking” boat on their shoulders. The crowd parted as they walked toward the lake, each member of the crowd cheering wildly. Flashes of light went off as people photographed the procession, and Nora couldn’t help but feel proud of Milburn.

It was beautifully done, each element just right. The men who carried it were all tall, with thick necks and forearms that were muscled and veined with years of hard work. It was entirely possible that they had some Viking blood in them. Dressed as they were, they certainly looked like the ancients. Nora found herself wondering if, in a distant past, in a distant land, a procession like this had laid some tribal chieftain to his final watery grave in a Viking burial.
 

Of course, there was to be no burial here, instead, the boat was filled with mementos of remembrance for those who had passed, or of items of memory that the audience wished to let go of.

Nora herself had contributed with two yellow high heels of Raquel’s. It felt bittersweet to her, but it also felt right.

Perhaps, she would have found closure too, if the proceedings had gone as expected. Instead, the events of the night shattered each person who witnessed it.

*****

Chapter 7

It happened so quickly. One moment, the crowd was alive and chanting hoorays. The boat was set on the water, and one of the bearers climbed up and set the fuse, before pushing the boat in the water.

That was when there was a piercing scream from the crowd, a scream that quickly became infectious. A woman pointed to the ground. A trail of dark blood had splattered the grass between the shed and the boat.
 

Horrific confusion followed.

Harvey, who had been entirely focused on Nora, now turned around and saw that the crowd was panicking. He squeezed her hand and commanded her to stay put. Then he ran right into the fracas.

Nora, stunned, remained rooted where she was for a moment, before running after Harvey.
 

“Where’s Sean?” Harvey was saying. “Sean or Wallis? We need them to control the crowd before someone gets hurt.”

“I don’t know.” The man Harvey spoke to was a new deputy, a nervous boy in his early twenties named Dean Elbert.