Part 22 (2/2)
”Oh, I don't think that's accurate,” she said. ”I don't think you know me well enough to know how I react when I'm upset about something.”
”Well, Matilda was there and, even though I didn't know they were a couple, she was upset. I could tell that, then, about her.”
”Maybe she'd just stepped on a scale,” Susan said, frowning. ”Or forgotten her lunch.”
I didn't think that Susan's bitterness was solely because she was a nasty person. That certainly played into it, but I thought there was more behind her snarky comments.
”But I was upset,” Susan said. ”I had to keep my cool, though. For 4-H.”
”Right,” I said. ”So why'd you tell me about George and Matilda then?”
Her face colored and she dropped her sungla.s.ses from the top of her head to her eyes. ”I thought that might be valuable information for you. Like you said. You need a clear picture.”
”Or did you want me to think she had something to do with his death?” I asked.
Her mouth twisted like a pretzel. ”Maybe she did.”
”She didn't.”
Susan turned and walked backward for a moment, keeping her eyes on the 4-H marchers behind us. ”You know that for sure?”
”Yeah, pretty sure.”
”She have some sort of alibi or something?”
”Or something.” Technically, Matilda didn't have an alibi. But she'd convinced me that she wasn't capable of killing the man she loved. And I didn't think that was any of Susan's business.
”Do you?” I asked.
”Do I what?”
”Have an alibi?”
She turned around so she was walking forward again. ”Of course.”
”Okay. What were you doing?”
We continued walking, but she didn't say anything.
”Susan.”
She looked at me. ”What?”
”Your alibi. What is it?”
She ran a hand through her hair, smoothing it down. ”We're getting close to the judges' stand. I need to make sure we're ready. We do not want to blow this opportunity in front of the judges. We have an excellent chance to win the float compet.i.tion this year, I think.”
”We've got a few minutes,” I said.
She stopped abruptly and jammed her hands on her hips. ”Deuce Winters, I am trying to coordinate this event and I don't appreciate getting the third degree from you right now. I'll be happy to talk to you at the end of the parade. But right now I have a group to organize so we don't look like fools in front of the judges.”
She stomped off to the front of our float.
44.
Main Street was lined with people and lawn chairs and pets and signs. The denizens of Rose Petal lived for the fair parade and despite the unG.o.dly heat, they had turned out in full force to line the route, cheer for the floats, and collect candy.
I was struck for a moment that all of this was going to change. The parade would be elsewhere next year. And the year after that. Would it ever come back? Maybe. But for the next couple of years, the parade would be different and the people lining the streets would be different. The folks who lived in the tiny houses on Main Street and set their lawn chairs at the curb wouldn't be able to do so anymore. Would they travel to the new site and find spots on the new parade route? Or would they just let it go, disappointed that the tradition was gone? It made me sad for them and for the town.
I'd let Susan go and had moved over to the other side of the float with Julianne and Carly. Carly was busy tossing candy and Julianne was busy trying not to get sick.
”What were you talking to Susan about?” she asked with a grimace.
”Don't worry about it,” I said. ”But I think we need to get you home.”
”I'm fine.”
”No, you're not. You look like you're about to throw up.”
Her face was flushed and sweat was pouring down her cheeks. Her walking was labored and I could tell that the heat had swelled her ankles to twice their size. She was breathing hard and every few steps she'd cringe.
”Well, if I do, just step out of the way and keep walking,” she said, forcing a smile.
”It's too hot out here for you. Come on. This is ridiculous.”
”Deuce, I'm not leaving,” she said, glaring at me. ”I refuse to play the delicate pregnant woman here.”
”No one thinks you are.”
”Exactly. All the more reason for me not to play it.”
Her stubbornness could be incredible at times. ”If you pa.s.s out, should I just put you on the float?”
”I'm not going to pa.s.s out.”
”I just want to be prepared. If you won't go home, I feel like I need to be prepared for any possible scenario.”
We turned a corner and the judges' tower near the fire station was in view. The cheers were getting louder as each float pa.s.sed by and did its best to impress Mama and her gang on the tower. Everyone liked to play down the importance of the parade, but there was no mistaking it. Winning the parade was the crowning achievement of fair week, and allowed the winners to brag for a year. It mattered.
”Yes, just put me on the float,” Julianne said, then winced. ”But not near the p.e.n.i.ses.”
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