Murder Loves a Fair Read online

  Murder Loves a Fair

  Rooftop Garden Cozy Mysteries, Book 12

  Thea Cambert

  Summer Prescott Books Publishing

  Copyright 2021 Summer Prescott Books

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication nor any of the information herein may be quoted from, nor reproduced, in any form, including but not limited to: printing, scanning, photocopying, or any other printed, digital, or audio formats, without prior express written consent of the copyright holder.

  * * *

  **This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons, living or dead, places of business, or situations past or present, is completely unintentional.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Also by Thea Cambert

  Author’s Note

  Contact Summer Prescott Books Publishing

  Chapter 1

  “I’m having déjà vu,” said Alice Maguire as she and her two best friends, Owen James and Franny Brown-Maguire stepped out of the Blue Valley Community Center and into the summer evening. “Why am I the one in charge of the All’s Fair in Love Fair?”

  “Because it was your idea,” said Owen, patting Alice on the back as they walked down Main Street toward home. “Remember? Back in April when you and Luke returned from your honeymoon? You were so adorable—all inspired and starry-eyed.”

  “And the fair is a great idea,” added Franny. “You’re so clever, Alice.”

  “Hmph,” said Alice. “What was I thinking?”

  Owen snorted. “Well, you were probably thinking that June in Blue Valley is that happy season when we get an influx of destination-wedding couples and honeymooners—and good business woman that you are, you came up with a way for us all to capitalize on that fact while showing people a good time. Just think of all the romance novels you’ll sell at the bookshop.”

  “And books of true-life love stories,” said Franny. “And books for newlyweds about setting up house.”

  “Cookbooks!” added Owen.

  “Okay, okay,” said Alice, holding up her hands with a laugh. “You’re right. I am brilliant.”

  “And all of the Main Street Historic District businesses will have you to thank for the extra cashflow this weekend,” said Owen.

  “Not to mention the inns and hotels all over town,” said Franny. ”They’re all offering special romance packages. At the Blue Valley Inn, they’re adding a breakfast-in-bed option. And at the Cozy Bear Camp and Glamp, they’re doing petal-strewn campsites and evening love song karaoke by the lake!”

  “And don’t forget the Lodge!” said a voice from behind.

  “There you are!” said Owen, smiling at Michael Boyd, who was walking briskly to catch up to them.

  “I got stuck back at the Community Center, talking to Mayor Abercrombie about the arrangements for Saturday’s Midnight Renew-Your-Vows or Get-Hitched event.” Michael smiled at Alice. “It’s all set. The mayor is actually an ordained minister, so he, along with Father Amos from St. Helena’s will be there to perform the ceremonies.”

  “Perfect!” said Alice. “You’re the best, Michael. So what’s happening over at the Lodge this weekend?”

  The Lodge, as the locals called it, was actually the Great Granddaddy Mountain Preserve and Resort Lodge, a gorgeous and expansive hotel that sat in the shadow of the town’s beloved Great Granddaddy mountain. It boasted a beautiful hotel, which had been designed to look like a classic mountain lodge, along with a restaurant, a natural history library, cabins, and numerous scenic trails that led further out into the mountains.

  Michael was the Lodge’s excellent concierge, but the sensitive soul was also a gifted poet, who’d recently had a collection of his work published to high acclaim.

  “We’re doing bubble bath goodie baskets, and we have a team of masseuses coming in for the weekend to offer couples’ massages.”

  “Wow, can I get a room?” asked Owen.

  Michael laughed and linked arms with Owen. “Sorry. We’re booked solid, thanks to Alice here, and her excellent idea.”

  By this time, they were nearing The Paper Owl, Alice’s bookshop, which was housed in a beautiful, historic two-story building along with Owen’s bakery, Sourdough, on one side, and Franny’s coffee shop, Joe’s, on the other. Alice’s grandmother actually owned the building, and when Alice had opened the bookstore about ten years earlier, she’d been thrilled that it had a tiny but charming apartment on the second floor. On that first visit, when Alice had walked reverently through the building, she’d opened the French doors that led out of the diminutive, bookshelf-lined living room onto the flat, empty roof space, and had a vision of a garden there.

  She’d started with a few potted plants, a couple of chairs, and a small café table. When Franny opened Joe’s and moved into the apartment next door, she pitched in, and a year later, when Owen opened Sourdough, he was crazy about the rooftop space, and brought his own creativity along as well. Now, the rooftop garden was a haven above Main Street. There were vine-covered archways, large potted trees, containers overflowing with flowers, and plenty of fresh herbs that Owen often snipped to use in the bakery and Franny and Alice clipped to use in their kitchens. Owen had added a small, burbling fountain to attract the birds that flew in to eat at the many feeders, and Alice had strung the whole place with her signature twinkle lights.

  And the rooftop garden idea had caught on. Now, up and down Main Street, many of the rooftops housed gardens. Some places, like the Smiling Hound pub, used their rooftop for outdoor business space, while others, like the rooftops above Crumpets baked goods and the Waxy Wick candle shop, allowed the upstairs apartment inhabitants to have their own little yards.

  “Alice! Wait up a second!” Barb Blake called from behind.

  Alice turned to see Barb and her husband, Doug, who owned the gourmet chocolate and candy store, Sugar Buzz, a couple of doors up Main Street from The Paper Owl. They were jogging along with Virginia Swanson and Marge Hartfield close behind. Virginia owned the Salad Stop Café, just down Main and around the corner, on Trillium Street, next door to the Blue Valley Heritage Museum, and Marge owned the Waxy Wick candle shop, across the street from The Paper Owl.

  “Hi, Barb,” Alice said, then smiled at the others. “Thanks again to all of you for your willingness to help with the fair.”

  “It’s going to be a blast,” said Barb. “What a great idea! Doug and I created a whole special line of romance-themed chocolates just for the occasion!”

  “And I have a collection of candles all dipped and drying,” said Marge. “Each one a different romantic scent.”

  “I’ll take a case or two of those to sell in the bookstore,” said Alice.

  “Great!” said Marge. “I’ll bring them over on Thursday.”

  “We just wanted to tell you again how excited we are about Cupid’s Post,” said Barb.

  “These three won’t stop talking about it,” said Doug with a roll of his eyes. “You’d think the God of Love himself had commissioned them!”

  “It’s going to be the best part of the weekend,” said Virginia. “We’re glad to volunteer.”

  Cupid’s Post had been one of Alice’s best ideas. Customers could stop by the Community Center, or call or use the specially designed website, to order customized love
notes which would be hand-delivered by Cupid himself. The proceeds would be donated to local charities.

  “We wanted to run an idea by you,” said Marge. “What do you think about adding gift cards to the love notes from local businesses? Lots of the Main Street shops would probably be willing to donate gift cards. Just think of all the customers that would bring in. That way, everyone wins—we raise even more money for charity, but we also get some extra foot traffic downtown.”

  “Doug and I will donate a dozen cards for three free chocolates apiece,” said Barb.

  “And I’ll throw in a dozen for a limited-edition candle,” said Marge.

  “And I’d be glad to give away a dozen of my Chef’s Special salads,” said Virginia, patting her hair into place—not that it was ever out of place. “Of course, when people come in with their vouchers, they’ll likely make additional purchases as well, so everyone benefits.”

  “I think that’s a wonderful idea,” said Alice.

  “I can offer gift cards for a free cookie,” said Owen.

  “And a free cup of coffee!” added Franny.

  “Let’s do it,” said Alice. “It’ll add a fun surprise to the love notes.”

  “Great,” said Barb. She turned to her two friends. “Ladies, we’ve only got two days until the fair opens. Let’s go beat the streets and see if we can drum up some more sponsors for Cupid’s Post!”

  “The three amigos,” said Owen with a laugh as the three women linked arms and walked off.

  “And they have been for forty years,” said Doug, watching them go.

  “Forty years!” said Franny. “They must’ve all gone to high school together.”

  “Yep,” said Doug. “Right here at Blue Valley High.”

  “Just like us,” said Franny, nudging Alice.

  Franny and Alice had met at age twelve, right in the thick of middle school, and had been fast friends ever since. Owen, a relative newcomer to Blue Valley at less than a decade in town, might as well have lived there forever. He was practically part of Alice’s family—and indeed, sometimes Alice felt he was the favorite. Owen and Alice’s dad, Martin, went birdwatching together; he and her mother, Bea, baked cookies together; and Owen had even taken ballroom dancing lessons with Granny Maguire.

  Meanwhile, Franny had officially become part of the Maguire family when she’d married Alice’s brother, Blue Valley Police Captain Ben Maguire.

  “I think those three are going to make Cupid’s Post a huge success,” said Alice. “And I’m even more excited about the outdoor workshops you’ve all agreed to teach.”

  “It’ll be fun,” said Doug. “We’re looking forward to it.”

  On Saturday, Doug and Barb would be teaching a Chocolate-Dipped Fun workshop out on Trillium Street. Marge, along with the help of her assistant, young Koi Butler—who was also a yoga instructor—were teaching a Make Your Own Candle workshop. And Virginia would be sharing her wisdom about Edible Flowers and How to Use Them.

  As they walked up alongside Sugar Buzz, Doug said his goodbyes and went into his shop.

  “You know, it always strikes me as funny that Virginia Swanson never married,” said Franny. “She’s such a lovely woman.”

  “She really is,” said Owen. “Sort of genteel, don’t you think?”

  “Mom says she still lives just outside of town, on the Swanson family farm, where she grew up,” said Alice. “Did you know she actually uses her own homegrown produce in her salads at the café?”

  “Maybe that’s why they taste so good,” said Owen.

  “Well, I know just the fella for her,” said Franny, a twinkle in her eye.

  “Look who’s playing Cupid now!” said Owen, giving Franny a high-five. “Who’s Virginia’s perfect match?”

  “Abner Vordenbaum,” Franny announced. “I was at the Salad Stop Café the other day, having lunch with Ben, and Abner came in. The man was clearly smitten. We should encourage him to send one of those love notes to Virginia.”

  “Ooh—a secret admirer note!” said Owen.

  “Great idea,” said Franny.

  “We’ll run it past Abner,” said Alice. “Maybe he’ll even want to chip in a little extra money and send Virginia a singing Cupid love note!”

  Owen stopped walking. “Are you saying that the sucker you got to play Cupid is going to have to break into song and dance, wearing a diaper, out on Main Street?”

  Alice paused. “When you put it like that, you take all the regal dignity out of it.”

  “And who, pray tell, is playing Cupid?” asked Owen.

  “Stanley Schmidt.”

  “Bless him.” Owen chuckled. “Stanley Schmuck is more like it.”

  Chapter 2

  “So, who all has signed up for the Vow-Renewal/Get-Hitched event so far?” asked Owen on Thursday, as he, Alice, and Franny sipped their morning coffee in the rooftop garden.

  “A long list of people,” said Alice, taking out her binder and flipping it open. Alice’s cat, Poppy, jumped up and sat down right in the middle of the page. “Poppy, what has gotten into you lately?” Alice picked up the fluffy feline and set her in her lap, where Poppy could swat a playful paw at Alice and Luke’s little border collie, Finn, who lay curled up at Alice’s feet. “Let’s see, so far we have—well, of course, Luke and I and Franny and Ben are all renewing our vows. Mom and Dad, Franny’s parents, Granny and Chester . . . Norman and Pearl Ann, the Watsons, Patrick and Sophie Sullivan. Oh—and Taya and Ralph are tying the knot!”

  Taya Helms, the bartender at the Smiling Hound, had met Ralph Woods when the annual medieval faire had come to town just over a year ago. Ralph, better known as Wamba the royal jester, had fallen in love with Taya, and was finally coming to settle down and stay in Blue Valley as Taya’s husband.

  “How wonderful!” said Franny, clapping. “Those two are such a cute couple.”

  “Hey look!” said Owen, peering over the building’s façade down onto Main Street. “Cupid’s already out making his rounds.”

  Alice set Poppy on the ground and she and Franny joined Owen.

  “Nice! Someone’s getting flowers!” said Franny.

  “Can you believe that getup Stanley’s wearing?” said Owen with a snicker.

  “Owen, he had to wear that,” said Alice. “He’s Cupid. Cupid wears . . . strappy little sandals, and—”

  “A diaper?” asked Owen.

  “They’re white shorts! It’s a sort of . . . toga,” said Alice.

  “I like his little bow and arrows,” said Franny.

  “Look, he’s stopping at Crumpet’s,” said Owen.

  They all watched as Stanley knocked on the door and waited until it opened, then announced that he had a delivery for one Faith Lindor. When Faith—who owned Crumpets—came to the door, Stanley did a little twirl and bowed humbly, presenting Faith with a large, white envelope which had been sealed with a bright red heart. Faith carefully opened the envelop, eyes bright with anticipation. By then, her fiancé, Beau Boswell, had joined her on the sidewalk. Faith read the note just as Beau dropped to one knee and opened a small velvet box, looking up at Faith with hopeful eyes.

  “Oh, my gosh!” said Owen, hands flying to his heart.

  A huge smile spread over Faith’s face, and she happily nodded and cried joyfully as Beau slipped the ring on her left ring finger, picked her up, and twirled her around.

  “This is like one of those Hallmark commercials. But it’s real!” said Owen, dabbing at the corners of his eyes.

  “How wonderful is that?” said Franny.

  “The only things is, I thought they were already engaged,” said Owen. “I mean, they’ve been engaged for forever, haven’t they?”

  “Yes,” said Alice. “But I think Beau just made it official. Oh—and he asked me to add them to the Getting-Hitched list for Saturday night.”

  “This is going to be so romantic!” said Franny dreamily. Just then, ten-month-old Theo could be heard gurgling over the baby monitor Franny had set on the café ta
ble. “Oops. Duty calls.” She hurried into her and Ben’s apartment.

  By the time she returned, Cupid had done a little celebratory jig, picked up his bag of love notes and his bouquet of flowers, and was headed to his next stop.

  “Hey Cupid! Good work!” Owen called down.

  Stanley looked up and gave them all a wave. “This is the best job ever!” he yelled.

  “I wonder who the flowers are for,” said Alice. “Flowers weren’t an option on the Cupid’s Post menu, but what a good idea.” She took out her pen. “I’ll make a note to offer flowers next year.”

  “Did I miss anything?” asked Franny, who had just returned with a groggy Theo in her arms.

  “Looks like Pearl Ann is getting the next note,” said Owen.

  Sure enough, Cupid stopped at Pearl Ann Dowry’s spa, Blue Beauty, next. He performed his ceremonial knock on the door, and presented Pearl Ann with her love note. Then Norman came outside as well, and Pearl Ann jumped into his arms and kissed him.

  “That Norman is a romantic fool. I bet the flowers are from him,” said Owen with a smile.

  Norman and Pearl Ann had been married for less than a year, and even though they were both in their late fifties, they acted like two kids in love.

  But, a few moments later, Stanley was off to his next stop, flowers still in hand. A short distance down Main, he took out his list of deliveries and stopped. Then he smiled, and turned back in the direction he’d come from. He grinned at the glorious bouquet of flowers and took a deep whiff of their fragrance, then coughed a little.

  “Looks like Stanley’s allergic to something in that bouquet,” said Owen.

  Stanley had stopped walking and set his bag of love notes on a bench. He was now bent over, coughing. A couple who were walking down the sidewalk stopped and checked with him.