“I did hear he’s starting to get a fair amount of supporters, but I’m betting he’ll never have an office in townhall.”

  “Okay. I’ll do it. It’ll have to be after the Oktoberfest, though. There’s too much to do to get ready for that.”

  “Sure. That’s fine. He can’t do much damage in two weeks.” She gave a reassuring smile to Daisy, thinking, Hopefully.

  Fifteen

  Honesty is a very expensive gift. Do not expect it from cheap people. –Warren Buffet

  The morning of Oktoberfest, two weeks before Dead Virgil

  The third Saturday in October dawned full of sunshine and promise. Caledonia was up and dressed quickly, opting to let the boys sleep in and stay out of her hair. She wanted to make a pound cake and a peanut butter pie for the baking contest, and she needed to finish the costumes for herself and the boys.

  She took the pie crust from the oven and slid the Bundt cake in. The crust would need to cool before she added the filling, so she got to work on the costumes.

  Pickle was going to wear an outfit that resembled Dora the Explorer, complete with a Dora wig, but he’d also bought a five-foot-long grey beard. She laid out everything to make sure it was all there: the orange shorts and pink T-shirt, the page-boy wig, the beard, backpack, and tennis shoes with crew socks. Check. Pickle was ready to become Dumbledora the Explorer.

  Next she looked at Peanut’s costume. She’d painted a purple lightning bolt on a blue T-shirt and glued cotton balls all over a wide-brimmed hat so it looked like a cloud. She only had to sew on some four-foot strings of beads to hang from the hat to make it look like a rain cloud, and his Brain Storm costume would be complete.

  When she’d finished that, she got out her T-shirt with the word LIFE painted on it. It wasn’t fancy or complicated, but she figured it was appropriate for her life at the moment. She’d bought a big bag of lemons and would carry them in a basket. She planned to hand them out and say, “When life gives you lemons . . .”

  She glanced at the time. It was almost noon. She needed to finish the pie, get the boys up and fed, dressed, and out the door to watch the Hot Dog Parade.

  Her text tone rang. It was Virgil saying he would see her in town. She thought of the conversation with Paprika. It had bothered her. She knew Paprika was right, but she couldn’t help herself. He was so affectionate and complimentary and fun to be with. He made her feel so good when she was with him.

  Her inner voice spoke up. “Yeah, but when you’re not with him, your guts are screaming, at you.”

  She let out a sigh and decided for the time being to quietly answer the inner voice with: “Shush.”

  “Mom, we need to get a dachshund,” Peanut pleaded as they left the Hot Dog Parade.

  “I think Goose Pimple Junction has an abnormal amount of that particular breed, son. It amazes me how every year they can have a whole parade full of dachshunds dressed in Halloween costumes.”

  “When we get one, I’m going to make a hot dog bun out of foam, and glue red and yellow crepe paper to it for ketchup and mustard. He’ll be a real live hot dog. Get it?”

  “Yeah, I get it. But we’re not getting a dog.”

  Paprika caught up to them and joined the conversation. “I’d dress mine up like a martini.”

  “A martini?” Caledonia said.

  “Yeah. I’d get one of those cones they put on dogs’ heads after surgery. And I’d put some big fake olives on a stick and attach it to the cone. Voila, a martini.”

  Peanut tugged on Caledonia’s hand. “Where are we going now, Mama?”

  “To the mayoral debate.”

  He groaned. “Do I have to go?”

  Paprika piped up. “Three and Henry are going over to the Cheeto contest. It starts in about ten minutes.”

  “Ooh! I heard about that. You wear a shower cap, and they spray shaving cream all over it. Then your partner throws Cheetos at you. The one who catches the most Cheetos wins. Can I go, Mama? Can I?”

  “I guess so. But how are you going to participate in the contest with that rain cloud on your head?”

  “Duh. I’ll take it off.”

  “Don’t get smart with me, young man. Besides, if Three and Henry are going to be partners, who will be your partner?”

  “I’ll find Charlie. Please? Can I go?”

  “All right. But get somebody to take your picture. I want to see my son, the Cheeto Head.”

  “I have to say, Mayor Buck, I nominate you for the best costume for art imitating life.”

  Buck and Virgil were standing on the gazebo stage, and both had just been introduced. Buck was dressed in a tux with a long white tie with the letters S-O-R-R-Y scrawled down it. He was a “formal apology.”

  Virgil continued. “I mean, I think it’s awfully big of you to admit that you owe the citizens of Goose Pimple Junction an apology. Sorry. You’re sorry all right. I couldn’t agree more.”

  A murmur spread over the crowd along with a few chuckles.

  Caledonia leaned over and whispered into Paprika’s ear. “Gotta admit, Buck walked flat into that one.”

  Buck shot back, “It’s merely a costume, Mr. Pepper. What I think the townsfolk don’t want is a sugary soft drink for a mayor.”

  The crowd applauded, as Virgil, dressed in scrubs with a stethoscope slung around his neck, turned red.

  Buck added, “You’re no doctor. Instead of empty calories, you’re more like an empty suit.”

  Virgil quickly recovered and shot back, “Well, I think it’s going to take a doctor to fix what ails this town. And this Dr Pepper is just the man to do it.”

  Some hearty applause rang out, but Louetta stomped her foot. “Ooooh, I can’t stand that man.”

  Paprika turned to Lou. “Maybe you could give him an, ahem, brush with death.” She was referring to Louetta’s costume. She was dressed in the classic Death costume, and she carried a giant-sized tooth brush.

  “It would be my pleasure,” Brush with Death said through her skeleton mask.

  Virgil had been working hard at gaining a base. He was making back-door deals with the business community as well as making promises he had no intention of keeping. His lies had managed to turn the tide, and there was a strong faction of citizens for him.

  Buck boomed into the microphone. “What I think folks don’t want is another town where you can't swing a dead cat without hitting a Walmart, which is what Goose Pimple Junction will turn into if you’re elected.”

  “I’m not saying we need a Walmart. I am saying we need progress. When it comes to bringing progress to this town, you’re slower than a Sunday afternoon.”

  Buck shot back, “And your heart is blacker than the inside of a coal miner’s nose.”

  Paprika signaled to Caledonia. “I’m going to go find Victor. I can’t stand to listen to another minute of those two grown men bickering.”

  Paprika left the debate and walked toward the gazebo in the center of town, taking in the decorations. She loved this time of year. And the town always did such an exceptional job fixing up the town square for the Oktoberfest celebration. Pumpkins, squash, and mums dotted the landscape, mixing with the trees in full color.

  She was perusing the jack-o-lantern carving entries and scowling at the one with “Virgil for Mayor” carved into it when a big rubber butcher knife came around her shoulder and stopped against her neck. A voice behind her said, “Don’t make a fuss. Just come with me, nice and easy like.”

  She whirled around to see Victor wearing a Cheerios T-shirt. “Toothpick—I mean Victor. You about scared the living daylights out of me.” She took in his bright yellow T-shirt and said, “You decided not to dress in costume?”

  “What do you mean?” He held up the fake butcher knife. “I’m a Cereal Killer.” He pointed to his shirt and then the knife. “Cereal. Killer. Get it?”

  “Oh, you.” She swatted his arm. “Clever. Very clever.”

  Victor looked Paprika up and down, taking in the ball cap with the word CEILING written on it, her T-shirt that said CEILING, and the felt pendant she was carrying that said CEILING.

  His toothpick bobbed up and down when he said, “You’re a ceiling?”

  Paprika held up the pendant and shouted, “Go, Ceiling!” Victor still looked confused, so she added, “Ceiling Fan. I’m a Ceiling Fan. Get it?”

  “Of course.” He hit his palm against his forehead. “I’m a little dense sometimes. But I like it. Say, want to go for a hayride?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  They walked toward the hay wagon and saw Paprika’s daughter, Tallulah, and her friends Carrie and Maddie Mack. “Look, Victor, there are the girls. Aren’t they cute?”

  The three girls all had on white T-shirts with a letter P screen printed on them. A black ring was drawn around one of their eyes, giving each of them a “black eye.”

  Victor squinted. “I give up. What are they supposed to be?”

  Paprika feigned a shocked expression. “Black-eyed peas, of course.”

  “Ah.” Victor nodded.

  They got on the wagon and sat across from Johnny and Martha Maye. Johnny took one look at Victor and said jokingly, “I guess I’m gonna have to run you in.”

  “It’s a little hard to take you seriously, dressed as a battery and all.”

  Johnny hitched his head at Martha Maye, who was dressed up like a Morton’s salt box. “Not just any battery.” He pointed to his wife and then to himself. “A salt and battery.” He smacked his thigh and laughed. “I’m not on duty anyway, but Officers Bubble Rapper and Maroon 5 are.” He pointed to the officers, Hank and Skeeter, standing on the sidewalk. Hank was wearing dark sunglasses, his GPJPD ball cap on backward, a big thick gold chain around his neck, and he’d wrapped bubble wrap around his uniform. Skeeter wore a maroon sweater over his police uniform with a sign around his neck with the number 5 on it.

  “Sorry, but Bubble Rapper and Maroon 5 don’t look very official. A cereal killer could get away with murder in this town.”

  “Just try us.” Johnny’s expression looked menacing.

  Victor raised his hands. “Hey, just joking.”

  As the wagon neared A Blue Million Books, the riders asked the driver to let them off so they could go to Jack’s book launch.

  Inside, Tess was handing out cups of hot mulled cider. She was dressed all in green with a T-shirt that said, “I’m with Envy” with an arrow pointing to Jack, who stood next to her and was wearing a green T-shirt with “Envy” printed on the front.

  Paprika hugged Tess. “I get it. You’re green with envy. Good job, y’all.”

  Just then, Daisy and Kaye walked in. Daisy was wearing a plastic bag painted to look like a giant bread bag, and she wore a medal around her neck. Kaye was dressed with bunny ears and carried a broom and feather duster.

  As everybody stared at them, Kaye blurted out, “What are y’all staring at? You never seen a Breadwinner and a Dust Bunny before?”

  Louetta came in from the back room, telling everyone she passed to have a seat or gather around. She went to the area set up with chairs and stomped her giant toothbrush against the floor to attract attention. “Y’all, come on, have a seat. There’s no tricks here today. Just one big treat–Jack’s gonna read from his new book, Murder Creek. Y’all know this is one that means a lot to me. It tells the story of my daddy’s murder. And so, without further ado, Mr. Jackson Wright.”

  Jack had read two pages of his book when someone burst through the bookstore’s door hollering, “Chief Butterfield, come quick! There’s a dead body in the alley!”

  Sixteen

  He was a man of many words but never a man of his word.

  –K. Sierra

  Late afternoon of Oktoberfest, two weeks before Dead Virgil

  Johnny, Hank, and Skeeter had shed their costumes and now stood looking at the dead body of a woman in her late thirties who’d been left near the dumpster in the alley behind Killer Cupcakes.

  Johnny scratched his head. “She got any ID on her?”

  “No, sir. Nothing in her pockets and no purse anywhere around.”

  Velveeta Witherspoon was on the scene, taking photographs of the victim, who was lying face up, arms splayed to her sides, legs bent; she had on one shoe, and her other foot was bare. An empty Mason jar lay beside her.

  Johnny leaned next to the victim, straining his neck to examine the body without disturbing it. “I want to wait for the medical examiner to get here before we move her, but from what I can see, there aren’t any marks on her body. But what’s this orange substance around her mouth?”

  Over Johnny’s shoulder, Virgil spoke up. “It’s orange icing from Killer Cupcakes. I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say maybe the town shouldn’t have any more Oktoberfests. This is the second one where a murder has occurred amidst all the frivolity.”

  Johnny stood up. “Let’s don’t go getting ahead of ourselves. I don’t see how one thing has to do with another. It’s just a coincidence. Lenny’s murder didn’t have a thing to do with Oktoberfest, and we don’t know that this one did either. From the looks of it, she’s another victim of Goose Juice gone bad.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t like coincidences,” Virgil grumped.

  Mayor Buck had been quietly watching the goings-on but finally spoke up. “I don’t like outsiders casting aspersions against our town. Just remember, y’all, never approach a bull from the front, a horse from the rear, or a fool from any direction.” Both candidates glared at each other and stomped off in different directions.

  A crowd was forming, and Hank started trying to move them along, including the candidates. Waving his arms to get them to turn around and walk away, he said, “G’won, folks. Y’all g’won now. Nothing to see here.”

  Velveeta came up from behind him and took over. “Y’all, this isn’t an auction. So just turn your ugly selves around and g’won. We’ll take care of bidness here. We don’t need your help. Now, g’won! Get! Don’t make me shoot you.”

  Her loud voice and menacing expression did the trick, and folks began to disburse.

  Hank agreed to stay put to keep the lookie-loos away, and she rejoined Johnny. “What’s the word, Chief?”

  “Let’s bag this Mason jar as evidence. I want it to go to the lab ASAP. Tell them it’s a top priority.”

  “Yessir.”

  Johnny took a closeup picture of her with his phone. “I’ll send this picture out and see if we get any hits from the surrounding police departments.”

  “Somebody’s bound to make a missing person report sooner or later right?”

  Back in the bookstore, Jack’s reading had been interrupted and ruined. Most people had gone. The ones still there stood around talking about the dead body in the alley. His reading of murder had turned into real-life murder.

  Tess gave her husband a sad smile. “Well, if nothing else, maybe you can get a new book out of it.”

  Martha Maye patted Jack on the back. “Looks like the grave is in the water, Jackson.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Tess giggled, and they both stared at her. “I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you, Martha Maye. It’s just your expression–I think you got what your mother said a little mixed up.”

  Louetta was rushing around, pushing orange-iced cupcakes and apple- and pumpkin-shaped sugar cookies into everyone’s hands, trying to keep the party going. Jack grabbed her sleeve to stop her as she scurried past them. “What was it you told Martha Maye about a grave in water?”

  Louetta’s confused face turned to realization after a few moments. She patted her daughter’s arm. “I told her the book launch party was dead in the water.”

  Jack scrunched his mouth to make a goofy face. “Yep. It damn surely is.”

  “Just my luck to have a murder ruin a perfectly good book signing,” Louetta grumbled.

  “Yeah, well, that poor girl in the alley didn’t have very good luck today either, Mama,” Martha Maye said.

  “You’re right. I should be ashamed of myself. What am I thinking?”

  “Who told you to start doing that?” Jack teased, walking up behind her and giving her a squeeze around her shoulders.

  Louetta propped her hands on her ample hips. “You’re like a canon, Jackson.”

  “Yeah? How so?”

  “Always shooting your mouth off.”

  Jack patted her arm. “Lou, you know you’re the smartest person I know.”

  “Hey!” Tess blurted.

  “Aw, honey, I’m sure you’ll be that smart one day. But Lou’s got a few years on you.”

  “Hey!” Louetta blurted.

  Jack looked across the bookstore and pointed. “Oh yeah, there’s what’s-his-name. I better go talk to him about you-know-what.”

  “Chicken!” Tess yelled after him.

  “Baaaaaak baaak baaak!” Louetta sang to his back.

  Jack turned, walking backward. “There are two theories to arguing with a woman. Neither one works.”

  Louetta shot back, “Yellow-bellied coward.” She turned to Tess, looking hopeful. “So are y’all coming over Halloween night?”

  Tess clapped her hands together. “We wouldn’t miss it. What can I bring?”

  “Oh, darlin’, y’all being there is enough for me. We’ll have enough food to feed Pharaoh’s army. And if we run out, we can always open the canned goods Ima Jean wants to hand out to trick-or-treaters.”

  An amused expression crossed Tess’s face. “Canned goods instead of candy?”

  “Law, yes. That girl is getting squirrellier and squirellier every day. I’m gonna have to ask Pickle to stand around outside where Imy can’t see him and hand out candy.”

  “Great idea! Let me know if he can’t. I’ll be glad to help.” Tess side-hugged Martha Maye when she rejoined them.

  Louetta’s eyes scanned the bookstore. “Myyyylanta, would you look at that Patty St. James? Whatever kind of look she was going for, she missed.”

  “Mama! Don’t be ugly.” Martha Maye whispered. “God don’t like ugly.”