Thrown Off: A Cozy Mystery (Brenna Battle Book 3) (17 page)

“Well,” I said smugly, “I know you can’t discuss the investigation with us, so maybe we should just keep our thoughts about Gunter Hatton to ourselves.”

“What does Gunter Hatton have to do with the investigation?”

“He just might have a very compelling motive, that’s all.”

“Really? Maybe you could tell me about that, off the record.”

So I told Will everything Ken had blabbed about.

“I can’t believe it,” Will said. “I can’t believe you did that.”

“So she needed a haircut, Will.” Blythe grabbed my arm protectively.

“No, I can’t believe she got all that information out of him.” He turned to me with a sharper look. “And didn’t tell me.”

“Can you blame me for that? You don’t exactly take it well when you think I’ve been snooping.”

“You should’ve told me.”

Yes, I should’ve. Dang it, it was the Fourth of July. Everybody was happy. I just wanted it to stay that way. Well, everybody was happy except Carlos and Lourdes. And that’s why I couldn’t stop trying to unravel this mystery, even today. Even with Will here, wanting nothing more than to enjoy the day with me and my sister.

“I’ll look into it, Brenna. I’ll find out if he has an alibi.”

I nodded. I almost thanked him, but I knew that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “I know,” I said instead. “Are those candied walnuts I smell?”

The sweet, hot scent of roasted candied nuts wafted toward us, overpowering the spicy, fried smells from the taco truck we’d just passed. It brought back memories of Germany. The perfect comfort food, and the perfect change of subject.

“Yep. Right there.” Will pointed out a pink awning a few yards away. “They always have hazelnuts, almonds, pecans, and walnuts.”

“Ooh, I want some hazelnuts,” Blythe said.

“I love roasted walnuts, but I’ve never had roasted pecans.” I turned to Will. “Which one should I get?”

“Well, if we’re going to eat dessert first, we might as well get all three.”

Will insisted on treating us. He handed me a reck-checked paper cone full of pecans. I inhaled, smiled, and almost said,
Danke
—
thank you
in German.

“Sensei Brenna! Sensei Blythe!”

We pivoted around, and there was Sammi, with Katie by her side. Katie held a big bag of cotton candy, and Sammi had a tuft of blue fluff in her hand, ready to eat.

“Hi, girls!” I said.

Blythe and I gave them hugs. Will said hello, and Katie was polite, but Sammi gave him her usual look. Will was unfazed.
 

I held my paper cone of nuts out. “Here, Katie. You have to try these.”

“Thanks.” Katie took a few.

Will held his out for Sammi. She hesitated, gave him a reproachful look, then took some.

“They’re good,” Sammi said. “Almost as good as cotton candy.”

I just shook my head. “Cotton candy? There’s no comparison!”
 

Katie put a candied nut in her mouth, then a piece of cotton candy. “They’re good
with
cotton candy!”

Sammi made a gagging sound.

“Let me try that.” Will plucked a piece of cotton candy from their bag and put it in his mouth with a couple of nuts. “Not bad.”

“Just the thought of that makes me—”

“Want to puke?” Sammi said.

“Thirsty,” I said. “I was going to say
thirsty
.”

“I saw water for a dollar back on that corner,” Blythe said.

We found a handful of kids with a cooler selling water for a dollar. On the grassy hill above the street, a live band played “Born in the USA.” The clouds were light and fluffy and the sky was getting bluer by the minute.

“What are your moms up to, girls?” Blythe asked.

“Mine’s working, and then she’s going to be too tired for the fireworks,” Sammi said. She kept her eyes focused on the nuts in her hand.

Katie added, “My mom wants to go to a party with some of her friends and then watch the fireworks from their house.”

“Maybe you should go with her,” I said. “It’s important to be with your family on holidays.”

Blythe nodded. “Yes, as long as we have you for the parade, you should go with your mom, Katie.”

Katie shook her head. “She won’t even notice I’m there. I’m just going to hang out with Sammi until the parade.”

“And then, later, we’re going to watch the fireworks with you guys and the other kids.”

“Well, I guess if it’s okay with your mom,” Blythe said. She was concerned, just as I was. That was a long time for two young girls to wander around Bonney Bay. Especially between the parade and the fireworks.

“You guys are all going to watch the fireworks together? That’s great.” Will popped a walnut into his mouth. “Make sure you find a good spot early.”

“Jill Rowe said the park is the best place, right by the bandstand. She’s going to reserve us some good spots for the fireworks.”

Will smiled. “She puts a couple of pop-up tents up there every year. When it starts to get dark, she takes them down and covers the space with blankets.”

“Wow,” I said. “She’s a real pro.”

Will nodded and munched some more.

I felt just a little bit of that old twinge of jealousy. Will and Jill Rowe were friendly. But I admired and genuinely liked Jill too much for it to last. Not to mention she was happily married.

“We’re gonna go get some chili dogs. Come on, Sammi,” Katie said.

It was nice to see her taking charge once in a while. Even though I suspected she was only doing it this time so they wouldn’t be a bother to us adults having our grown-up time. Katie was thoughtful like that.

“Are you sure you don’t want to hang out with us?”

“No,” Katie said, “we’re fine.”

“Maybe after the parade,” Sammi said.

“Stay together!” warned Blythe.

“No boys!” Will added.

Sammi gave him a killer glare.

Blythe snickered. “You sounded just like Brenna,” she whispered to Will.

Will winked at me. “I thought you’d want to say that. I just saved you from being the bad guy.”

I watched the girls walk away and melt into the crowd with mixed feelings. It was a small town. People were supposed to feel safe here. And there was something to be said for letting kids learn how to be independent. But it still made me sad, because I knew that wasn’t what this was about for these girls. Their moms weren’t trying to give them their independence; their moms were trying to keep their own independence. Independence, even, from spending the holiday with their girls.

And of course, there was one teensy little detail that made sending kids out to spend this particular Independence Day on their own a very bad idea. There was a murderer on the loose. A murderer who knew I was trying to expose them. Did they know that Sammi had helped me solve crimes before? Would they target her?

I reassured myself that there were police everywhere. Not to mention Bonney Bay-ans and good-hearted people from all over the county and beyond. The kind of people looking for an old-fashioned Fourth of July with their families. They were probably safer in the crowd than they were at home.

28

Families had already started lining the streets. Little ones sat on the curb, waiting for the parade to begin. Some of the adults unfolded camping chairs on the sidewalks behind their kids. The Congregational Church parking lot was full of out-of-towners’ cars. Outside the church, a sign marked the parking lot entrance:
Support our mission trip! Parking $10 all day!
Not a bad deal, not to mention a really smart move. Every parking lot in town was packed, including the church’s.

Blythe and I hurried to the staging area, a couple of blocks away from the beginning of the parade route, behind Town Hall. We’d brought the rented flatbed around this morning and fitted it with a small mat area.

Jill Rowe and her boys were already there, waiting by the truck. “Don’t worry,” Jill said with a wave, “You’re not late. I’m early. Gary teases me about it all the time.”

“Where is Gary?” I asked as Blythe and I high-fived the boys.

“He’s watching our spot down at the park for the fireworks.” She pointed toward the water. “He’s going to come up to watch the parade, though.”

Jill’s usual ponytail was wrapped in a bunch of red and blue metallic star garland—the kind you bought at the dollar store and wrapped around centerpieces. She sported a Captain America tank top and her boys had matching Captain America T-shirts. I wore my Olympic podium shirt. Blythe had insisted. The
USA
on the front was done in a kind of reflective ink that appeared to glow in photos. It had driven the photographers at the last Olympics crazy every time an American made it onto the podium. Too bad I didn’t get a chance to be one of those annoying Americans messing up the podium shots.

An old-school bike bell dinged, and a small voice called out, “Coming through!” A little girl with blond pigtails adorned with red, white, and blue ribbons pedaled by. Her wheels flashed with red, white, and blue bling, and matching streamers were wrapped around her handlebars. A dozen or so kids on decorated bikes, scooters, and wagons gathered, some of the younger ones with moms and dads jogging along.

“Helen!” I spotted my favorite librarian and gave her a hug, then regarded the curious row of library book carts behind her. The shelves of each cart were filled with hardcover books, all held securely in place with black, seatbelt-like straps.

“Brenna!”

“What are you going to do with those?” I indicated the carts.

Helen winked. “Wait and see. I think we’re right next to you in the parade line-up. You’ll get to watch.”

“Sensei Brenna!” Katie came up to me, breathing hard. Sammi was close behind.

“See, Katie, I told you we weren’t late,” Sammi said.

“I didn’t want you and Sensei Blythe to worry,” Katie said.

I gave her a squeeze. “Sammi should listen to you. You’re a good influence.”

I got an eye-roll from Sammi for that. Blythe poked me before I could roll my eyes back. Soon we had a cluster of Battlers gathered around us, all dressed in red, white, and blue. Sammi, Katie, Anthony, and Charles pulled their judo gis on over their shorts and T-shirts.

“Everyone’s going to be watching us,” Charles told me quietly.

“Just focus on your judo. You’ll be fine. Remember what I told you guys to do if you mess up.”

“Just take a good fall.”

“That’s right. Your job is to make each other look good today. If you mess up, chances are that crowd won’t even know the difference.”

“Hi, Sensei Blythe and Sensei Brenna!” Ellie arrived with her Dad. She waved enthusiastically while he attacked her ice-cream-stained face with a wet wipe.

More Battlers came running to our makeshift float. “Two, four, five…” Blythe stood on her tip-toes and started pointing and counting heads. “All Battlers accounted for!”

We reviewed the safety rules and made sure each Battler remembered his or her place. Martin’s Dad, James, was about to check the sound system, when a police siren let out a short series of blips. A sixty-something man in a crisp, short-sleeved button-up shirt stood at the front of the parade participants, next to Will’s cruiser. “Hello everyone, and happy Independence Day!”

Everyone clapped and cheered, and he smiled even wider. He had the kind of broad mouth that always seems to be smiling.

“As most of you know, I’m Jeff Gainsborough, Bonney Bay’s Town Administrator. It’s tradition for the mayor to head the parade, right after the lead police car. Sadly, we’re temporarily without a mayor, and we’ll hold a special election to fill that office soon. The citizen of the year usually follows the mayor, but he’ll go first this time, followed by the volunteer of the year and teacher of the year. Then our wonderful Patriots on Wheels.” He gestured at the kids with their decorated bikes, scooters, and wagons.

It hit me then, how sad and unusual it must be for Bonney Bay, to be dealing with serious crimes like this. They didn’t even have their mayor to ride in their traditional Independence Day parade because of a murder case that had hit the town hard, right when we arrived from Arizona.

Will stepped out of the cruiser and I caught his eye. My heart fluttered. I may have started to daydream just a little. Hopefully I didn’t miss anything important from Jeff Gainsborough while I imagined romping through the surf in Rio with Will’s hand in mine.

Before I knew it, it was time to load up and start moving. The parade was on. Martin’s Dad, James, drove our truck. As it slowly rolled forward, Sammi, Katie, Anthony, Charles, and I sat against the back of the cab, waving and holding up signs. We tossed lollipops to the kids in the crowd. Blythe and the other Battlers did the same from the ground, at the rear of the truck.
 

The librarians were in front of us, and behind us, the Bonney Bay Historical Museum’s Pioneer Society marched proudly in their calico dresses and bonnets, followed by the local chapter of Daughters of the American Revolution. One of the Pioneer Society ladies pulled a covered wagon—a classic Radio Flyer fitted with a Conestoga-style top. Two little ones in costume rode inside, eating candy and throwing a fistful to the spectators every now and then, too.

Stilt-walkers, like giant, larger-than-life puppets, lurched along both sides of the parade. Their three-foot-long papier-mâché heads and big hands were attached to the ends of their cloth bodies, which concealed people on stilts. They were cool, but their swaying bodies, combined with their painted papier-mâché faces, had a somber, creepy feel to me.

Something pinged me in the back of the head. A grown woman with gleaming teeth gave me a garish smile. It was Rebecca Hayes! Over her dark, curly hair, she wore a sun visor emblazoned with the bright purple logo of a dentist’s office. She carried a big cloth bag filled with treats. Rebecca’s daughter had been one of Miss Ruth’s ballerinas. And Rebecca was convinced Ruth’s retirement was all my fault. I was not only responsible for the end of her daughter’s time with her beloved teacher and her fellow dancers, I’d brought a decidedly un-classy activity into Bonney Bay to take its place. I’d heard that Rebecca had started working as an orthodontist’s assistant. I guess she got some new braces along with the job.