Part 2 (2/2)
”Guess that's as good a place as any,” he said, staring at it.
”Good enough,” I said. ”As long as the cord reaches the outlet, we can get to it right there.”
”You workin' in there today?” he asked.
”Yeah.”
”Score me a hot dog or somethin'?”
”We don't get free food. Sorry.”
He frowned and I got the distinct impression he thought I was an idiot.
”Can I ask why you're wearing a wig?” I asked.
He grinned, exposing yellowed teeth. ”It's tradition.”
”Tradition?”
”Every year, I wear it,” he explained. ”I had too many beers one year and put it on and wore it. Just took off. It's kinda become a thing. Plus, everyone knows who I am. Kinda hard to miss it.”
”I'll say. Are you on the fair board, too?”
He nodded. ”Yep.” He leaned against the freezer. ”That's why I'm doing all the heavy lifting.” He dissolved into laughter at his own joke.
”You know George?” I asked.
His laughter died out and he stared at me. ”Why?”
”Just asking.”
”You heard something?”
”No, I was just curious.”
”Hmm. Right.” He shrugged. ”Sure I knew him. Everyone knew him. He was always around here.” His mouth twitched. ”But we weren't like buddies or anything, all right? I mean, like, I'd wave at him and say what's up, but not like we went drinkin' together or anything like that.” He shook his head.
I started to respond, but he wasn't finished. ”So maybe I didn't really know him. I shouldn't say that. I was aware of him. Yeah. That sounds better.”
I was almost sorry I'd asked the question. ”Okay. Got it.”
”You hear anything different from anyone, you correct them, all right?” he asked, craning his neck at me.
”Sure. Yeah.” What an odd request, I thought.
He seemed satisfied with that answer. ”All right, then. I'm gonna go get me a beer over at the garden. Board members drink free over there.” He grinned. ”I'd invite ya, but I guess you gotta get back to cooking hamburgers or something.”
I nodded and headed for the stand. Anything was better than spending another moment talking to Bruce.
Leon Cotter was standing near the back of the stand, chewing on a toothpick and adjusting his Rose Petal Sheriff's Department hat on his flat, wide head.
He nodded at me. ”Deuce.”
”Sheriff,” I said. ”Busy morning, eh?”
The toothpick s.h.i.+fted from the left side of his mouth to the right. ”Could say that.”
Leon had just stepped into the sheriff's role in town and no one really knew how to take him. He was quiet and tended to keep to himself. Tall and lanky with a ruddy complexion, he was completely bald beneath the hat. He wasn't seen out and about very often and, given that Rose Petal didn't have a whole lot of crime, that was okay.
”You thinking about looking into Mr. Spellman's death?” he asked, casting a sideways glance at me.
”I don't think so, no,” I said, unsure of how to answer after my meet-up with Mama Biggs.
”Good,” he said, nodding. ”We probably won't get the ball rolling on this until the fair ends.”
”Really?”
”We don't want anything getting in the way of the fair,” he said. ”It'll be fine. He'll still be dead.”
”But don't you think letting the investigation sit still might put you at a disadvantage?” I asked. ”I'd think you'd want to act quickly.”
”Which is why I'm the sheriff and you're not,” he said, half a grin settling on his mouth. ”This fair is the most important thing in town. We'll preserve evidence. We'll begin the preliminaries. But the biggest crime would be letting something like this overshadow the entire fair week.”
The fair might have brought in a lot of money for Rose Petal and community organizations, but I couldn't have disagreed more. Letting a crime investigation sit idle seemed criminal in and of itself. If Victor had taught me anything, it was that once you found a trail of evidence, you didn't let it grow cold. Letting George Spellman's death go unlooked at for several days almost a.s.sured that the trail wouldn't just go cold. It would ice over.
”So if you do decide to do some of your own investigating or whatever it is you and that short fella do, I'd appreciate it if you two wait until the fair is over,” he said. He tipped his hat in my direction. ”And I'd be mighty appreciative if I didn't have to tell you a second time.”
6.
The stand was busier than before the discovery of George's body, a combination of hungry people and curious onlookers. Pete and I couldn't keep enough meat on the grill, as the orders came fast and furious. When our relief showed up, I had to double-check my watch to make sure the four-hour s.h.i.+ft was over.
”Well, that may have been the most exciting food-stand s.h.i.+ft ever,” Pete said, collapsing on a wooden bench outside the stand. ”My goodness.”
”You can say that again,” I said, sitting down next to him and wiping down my forehead with a paper towel.
The fair was in full swing now. The grounds were overrun with fairgoers, most clutching mammoth-size lemonades or waving cardboard fans in their pitiful attempt to escape the heat. Lines for the Tilt-A-Whirl and Kamikaze snaked sideways, kids whining as they waited their turn to defy death on the rickety rides.
”Not often we lose an hour to a corpse and still do more business than normal,” he said, a sly grin on his face.
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