Liz Marvin - Betty Crawford 03 - Too Long at the Fair (12 page)

“I saw him get sick.” Betty said. “He ran from the competition.”

“Well he didn’t run here.  I just hope he didn’t eat too much.”

The barbecue chef harrumphed. “Henry was tasting everything too.  Has a hollow leg like most boys his age.”

“If he ate a lot…”

“I can call it in, have somebody check with his dad,” Wes offered, “maybe run by their store and let folks know to keep an eye out for him.”

“That’s great but can you start with Walter?” Gladys pleaded “This is enough of a scene and we don’t need him adding to it.”

“Will do.” Wes promised “He was probably the last person to see Henry.”

Wes was off and Clarise followed him.  Betty turned to Gladys.  “Could I speak to Achmed and Thelma?  It’s about the cooking competition.”

“Visiting hours are over and in their condition only family is allowed in to see them.”

“Only family.”  Betty repeated and Gladys gave up.

“Fine.  Just keep it short and don’t upset them.”

Betty slipped down the hall toward the patients’ ward, reading the names on the door.  She came to Thelma’s room first.

Thelma was a small woman but in her present state she looked even smaller.  Betty slipped inside and sat down beside her.  Thelma opened her eyes and smiled weakly.

“What are you doing here?”

“Just wanted to check in and see if you’re okay.   I think Ira has gone home.  Edna is still here and so is Achmed.”

“So you’re the sole judge now.”

“No.  I have an idea but I need your approval.”

Thelma looked away.  “Nobody needs my approval.”

Betty looked at the woman who had hectored and embarrassed her and countless others around town for years and finally understood her.  “Approval wasn’t the right word.  I need your help.  I have an idea.  Half an idea, really and I don’t know if it will work.”

Betty stood up.  “You know it was the water from Addie’s pie recipe that made you and everyone sick?  Thelma nodded.  “I want her to wear a dress from a century ago and explain her recipe and tell the story of her great grandmother and the history of the food.  Maybe surround her with the Confederate re-enactors.”

Thelma tried to sit up.  Betty helped her.  “Would she be declared the winner?” 

“How can she be?”

“There has to be a contest and there has to be a winner.”

“Then give it to Marlee May posthumously.  Nobody will argue with that.”

Thelma lay down, thinking.  “Then why have the cooking demonstration at all?”

Betty gestured at the hospital room.  “To explain all this.”

Thelma thought for a while.  “And maybe to set up Walter’s big movie announcement?  It would get people in a historical mood I suppose.  Addie needs the prize money to pay off a tax lien. Oh don’t look surprised I still know something about what goes on in Lofton.  Why not give her the money?    Danbey Johnson doesn’t need it and he won’t mind.”

“Would you ask him if he would accept the award for Marlee May?”

“Why me?”

“You were Marlee May’s best friend.  You know him and all he knows about me is that I beat him in the pie eating contest!”

Thelma covered her smile with her hand.

Betty planted her hands on her hips and grinned. “Oh go ahead and laugh.  I deserve it.”

“Well you did make quite a spectacle of yourself.  Then again it’s been a year since you’ve eaten any of your aunt’s pastries.”

“Do you notice everything?”

Betty slipped from the room.

She heard Achmed from the hall.  He was on the phone.  “The competition is over.  It’s a disaster.  If you ever hear me saying I want to judge another cooking competition lock me in a room until I promise not to!”

Betty stepped into his room.

Achmed was propped up in bed by a half dozen pillows.  A laptop computer was open and he was typing while he talked into his bluetooth headset.  He noticed Betty. “Gotta go.”

“You’re looking much better.”

“Thanks, umm, how much did you hear?”

“Do you mean your rant about Middle Eastern assassins trying to kill you and the rest of us at the fair or your comments about the Lofton cooking competition in particular and cooking competitions in general?”

Achmed slid down his pillow.  “Oh lord.  Did you bring any poison cornbread?”

“Haven’t you heard?  Not cornbread.  Pokeberries.  The good news is the pie is ready and with any luck you’ll be well enough to taste it and assist in a public preparation of another one.”

“My hearing must still be bad.  What’s the good news?”

“I’ve tasted your food. You take mundane ingredients and make something truly magical but have you ever taken a poisonous weed and turned it into something exquisite?  Don’t you want to be a part of that and maybe see how it’s done?”

Achmed closed his eyes. “No mas.  I give up.”

“Addie will tell the story of her family and this recipe and how it fed them and saved their farm.  Clarise will find her a dress from the eighteen hundreds.”

“I’m not wearing a costume!”

“Don’t be silly.  All you need to do is wear a smile and an apron,” Betty promised, “and maybe one of those cute chef’s hats.  You ask questions and she’ll explain everything you could ever want to know about pokeberries and more.”

Achmed sat up, thinking.  He closed his laptop and reached for his phone.  “You know this would make an interesting documentary cooking show.  When does this happen?”

“Saturday’s the awards ceremonies and I have to get Addie out of jail.”

He set the phone down again. “What the hell is she doing in – no!  Never mind. I don’t want to know.  Just take care of it.  I’ll find a camera crew that doesn’t want to kill me and find a network to pick up the tab.”

“And maybe give Addie enough to pay off her back taxes?”  Betty practically bounced in anticipation.

“You never make things easy do you?” 

“Not if I can help it.”

Achmed nodded “Just tell her we start rehearsing tomorrow morning now get the hell out of here I need to make some more phone calls and get some rest!”

15. Chapter 14

Betty saw Mr. Johnson on her way out of the hospital.  He was with Clarise and Wes and clearly agitated.  He broke free from Wes and Clarise and ran to Betty. “Did you see Marlee May’s purse at Addie’s house?”

“Yes but I don’t think she took it.”

“I know she didn’t!  Was the photo; was there a photograph with the purse?”

“Yes it was her great-grandma - great great grandmother.”

He drew a framed photograph from his pocket. The frame was silver and beautiful.  The photograph was perfect and a perfect match for Addie’s.  “Did it look like this?”

“Her photograph was missing the frame and in much worse condition but yes.  Danbey what is this about?”

“This is my great great great aunt.  My branch of the family fell out with them after my great great-grandmother, married the son of a rich carpetbagger.  My mother was told that branch of the family died out and was gone and that’s what she told me.  No one ever spoke of them.  Now I know I have a relative. A cousin I never knew.”

“Who would do this?  Who would steal the frame and try to frame Adeline?”

Betty smiled at the unintentional pun.  “Clarise!”  Clarise and Wes joined them.  “Clarise did you see Addie’s frame?  Wasn’t it black?”

Clarise thought a moment then nodded. “Yes. Yes it was.”

Betty studied the frame, looking for a maker’s mark.  It was worn from polishing but she could just make out the name GLAZE.  “This is old.  More than a century and there was a silversmith named William Glaze who worked all through the civil war.  Whoever took the frame knew it was silver and worth a lot.”

“How much is a lot?” Wes asked.

“I’d have to check, Wesley but it’s worth thousands at least.  Somebody knows their antiques or knows how to find out about them. I wonder if I could check with some of my contacts.”

Betty bought and sold items on the web all the time but she was a generalist.  She purchased whatever she could whenever the opportunity arose; her motto being buy cheap and sell dear.  Over the past year she had learned where to look for bargains and who to take them to.   More important, she had befriended a number of experts who could help her identify and value items.  The only question she had was to whom should she turn with an antique silver frame made by a southern silversmith?

“Can I get a photograph of the picture?  Both sides and a close-up of the maker’s mark.”

“Get me copies too,” Wes chimed in “I’ll get the Staties in on the search.”

“No!” Betty practically yelled.  “I may be contacting somebody who’s in on the theft.”

“You’ll need to make your search from the station then.” Wes answered.  He was serious.

“This isn’t worth fighting over.  We need to get Addie’s costume from the theater.” She smiled at Clarise “Something that matches the one in the photograph.”

Clarise rolled her eyes.  “What have you gotten me into?”

“A production.  You’ll love it.  The fair will have its biggest crowd ever, Walter will make his grand announcement, Addie will explain her pie and -”

Betty took Danbey’s hands.  “Marlee May will win this year’s cooking competition.  If it suits you we, that is Thelma and Marlee May’s friends, would like to present the award to you.”

His eyes welled up. “She would like that.  I’d like that.  I’d like that very much.”

“Could you look in on Thelma?  She’s resting down the hall but I know she’d appreciate seeing you.”

“I’d be happy to, thank you.”

After a quick hug Mr. Johnson headed down the hall and Betty linked arms with Wes and Clarise.  “Any news about our Mr. Witt?”

“Bill found him at his family’s store.  He was taking care of the shipping and receiving.”  Wes grinned.  “That boy hasn’t found a job he won’t do and does not know how to take a day off. Not that either of you are any better!”

Clarise and Betty both stuck their tongues out at him.

“Just for that you can help us find Addie’s dress.”

“And we’re terrible at making decisions about clothes.”

~

Wes could tell there was something wrong at the theater before his squad car rolled to a stop.  The front double doors were closed but didn’t line up correctly.  The chrome trim was bent and there was a hint of light from somewhere inside the theater.

“Wait here.”  Wes fished out his cell phone with one hand and his sidearm with the other.  “Bill?  We’re at the theater.  There’s been a break-in.  Front door forced and lights inside.  I’m going in.  Of course.”  He turned to Clarise and Betty.  “Bill says for you two to stay in the car and wait.  A whole lot of law enforcement is on its way and not all of them know you so promise me you will wait here inside the car.”

Betty looked to Clarise.  Both women nodded.  Wes jumped from the car and raced into the theater.

“You staying?”  Clarise asked.

“We should stay and watch.  If we see anybody come out we can follow them.”

Betty was seated in the back seat.  Clarise slid over to the driver’s seat “Fortunately Wes left the keys.  If we see anyone we can follow them.”

Betty took out her cellphone and set it up to take photographs.  “Or we could take their picture and send it the police.  I am pretty certain they don’t like civilians borrowing their cars even if it’s for a good cause and even if you’re dating a policeman.”

Clarise didn’t argue but she stayed behind the wheel.  Just in case.

Time passed and nobody came out.  Clarise fidgeted in her seat.  Betty tried to look out all the windows at once.  A faint flashing blue illuminated the street behind them and then suddenly they were surrounded by state and county squad cars.

The state policewoman who had questioned Betty was with them.  She held a pistol with both hands aimed at the ground as she approached their car.  Clarise put both hands at ten and two o’clock on the steering wheel and stared straight ahead.  “Betty if you love me please put your hands on my shoulders.”

“You need a massage?” Betty asked but she complied with her friend’s request.

“No but I am very eager to not get shot.”  Betty looked around.  Their car was surrounded by cops pointing weapons toward the ground.  Betty’s temper got the better of her.  She rolled down the window and stuck her head out.  “You idiots Wes is inside and he needs your help.  Did anyone go to the back door?”

The policewoman recognized her and holstered her weapon. “Hello Miss Crawford.”

“Nice to see you again too do you need help backing up Wesley because Clarise and I are happy to take over.”

Clarise didn’t move but she whispered “If they don’t shoot you and I survive this I am going to strangle you myself.”

Betty went back to massaging Clarise’s shoulders.  “Relax and get out of the car.”

Betty opened the door and stepped out and headed for the theater without looking back.

“Freeze!” 

Betty froze.  “Oh lord!” she thought, “I have severely misjudged this situation.”  She stood motionless for what seemed like eternity then she heard footsteps running.  She looked around.

Police were crouched behind cars aiming down the street.  Others were running down the street.  No one was looking at her except for Clarise who was still seated in the car, hands at ten and two o’clock but she was shaking with silent laughter.   Betty felt herself turning red.  Probably bright red.

Just as Wes came running out the front door of the theater and slamming into her.  They both fell to the ground with Wes on top.  The impact knocked the wind out of Betty. 

“I told you to stay in the car!”

“Can’t… breath” Betty managed to squeeze out.  She glanced over and saw Bill standing over them, his hands on his hips.  “What are you two doing?”  Clarise joined them.  “I can explain!” She promised but she couldn’t.  She couldn’t stop laughing.

~

Wes, Bill and Mary and Chet, Betty’s parents were seated around the Crawford kitchen table laughing.  Betty was pouring coffee for everyone while Clarise was re-enacting with considerable and unnecessary embellishments.  At least Betty considered them unnecessary.  Everyone else was holding their sides and wiping their eyes and laughing like there was no tomorrow.

“Do “the freeze” again.  I didn’t get to see it in real time.”   Wes said.

Clarise froze, eyes wide, shoulders hunched up around her ears, mouth in a big O.  Bill nearly fell off his seat laughing.  Betty passed around coffee mugs.  “Very funny Clarise. You should be in theater.”

“Oh honey we only laugh because we love you.”  Her dad stood up and gave her a hug which, until that moment, Betty hadn’t realized she needed.  She hugged him back.  “And because you’re so darn funny.”  She slapped him playfully and pushed him away.

Bill stood up and hugged Betty and she only struggled a little bit.  “I’m glad you’re all right and I’m sorry you’ve had to go through all this.  The theater is locked up and we’ve got extra patrols watching it. Clarise, you and Wes can go through it tomorrow and see what, if anything, is missing.”

He held Betty at arm’s length and continued “I’ve heard you’ve already made plans for Addie to speak at the closing ceremonies.”

Betty nodded “Guilty as charged but only because she is innocent -”
 

“She shot at a police officer. Me.”

“- she is innocent of Marlee May’s murder.  And the gun went off accidentally.  I’d bet anything if she was shooting at you, you’d have been hit.”

“All the  Beureys were crack shots.” Chet piped in “Back in the day we’d hunt geese with her daddy. We’d use shotguns and he’d use a twenty two long barrel rifle and kill more birds with fewer shots than any of us.  Took ‘em all on the fly too and not crop dusting either.”

“I think we’ve seen that gun” Betty held Bill’s gaze, daring him to contradict her father.  He faltered “Oh all right I’ll let her go in the morning but I’m keeping her gun.”

Betty jumped and kissed him lightly on the nose.  “Just tell the press you have a new lead on the Marlee May murder.”

“You have a lead?”

“Not tonight.”

“What have you got in mind?”  Bill folded his arms.

“Please don’t do anything dangerous or rash!” Her mother’s voice trembled.

“Please just promise it doesn’t involve me!” Clarise jumped in and Betty answered her first.  “Of course you’re involved, and mother I promise I will be as prudent as ever.”

“Why is that not reassuring?” Her mother answered.

Betty hugged Bill.  He was unmoved. “You still haven’t answered me.”

“If I did you might laugh and say I’m crazy or worse, try and stop me. I’ll see you in the morning.  Wes made me promise to come to the station and use your computer.  Come on Clarise, you can spend the night and be up early.  We have to find clothes for Addie.”

“She’s about your mother’s size.” Clarise observed.

“Oh no. I’m long past letting you two raid my closet.”

Chet stood up silently and gestured for Bill and Wes to follow.  They did, stopping when they reached the front door.  “Leave now while you still can. Don’t worry about me.”

The three men grinned.  Bill opened the door.  Come on, Wes. You can tell me what you know about Betty’s plans.”  Chet turned to face the three women standing around the table, arguing.