Page 25 of Boo


  Mayor Wullisworth, of all people! That man could talk to a stump for hours! How was she going to get him to shoo?

  “Hi, Wolfe Boone.”

  “Glad to meet you.” The mayor sat down, and Melb noticed him stuff a stack of note cards into his jacket pocket. “I’d just like to say how thankful we all are here in Skary for the—how shall I put this?—economic advantage you’ve given us over the past few years. We wouldn’t be where we are without you.”

  Wolfe nodded but was silent.

  “I heard you were at church Sunday.”

  “I was.”

  “That’s good. Blessed are the churchgoers, for they shall go to church and give lots of money.”

  Wolfe glanced at Melb, who couldn’t recall ever hearing that beatitude.

  “I’m just kidding,” the mayor smiled. “Just testing your knowledge of Scripture.”

  “Do you attend Reverend Peck’s church?” Wolfe asked.

  “Well, Sunday is a very busy day for mayors. I work seven days a week, actually.”

  “Oh.”

  “And you know what the Bible says about laziness.”

  “Uh, no, not really.”

  The mayor cleared his throat. “Well, just that it’s bad. I think it might actually call it a sin.”

  “But aren’t we supposed to rest on the Sabbath?”

  “Well not if we’re going to be doing the Lord’s work!”

  Melb quickly understood that Wolfe’s attention had completely shifted from her to the mayor, that the mayor’s profound ignorance of the Bible was beginning to intrigue Wolfe, and that Wolfe was beginning to forget she was sitting there, so in a moment of complete desperation, Melb threw off her coat in order to be, at the least, shocking, and at the most, well, attractive. The air of the room offered relief to her very damp skin, and she closed her eyes, thankful to be cooling off just a little.

  But even with this very, very, very tight T-shirt on, no one seemed to notice her. Not even Wolfe and the mayor, who were right next to her. How could this be? Didn’t women in tight T-shirts always get noticed?

  Perhaps the subtle clearing-of-the-throat tactic might work. But before she got a chance, Garth walked by, and Melb got a whiff of his cologne, which he always wore way too strong. And cheap. It gagged her and then made her sneeze with such force that if she’d been pointed toward the fireplace, she just might have blown out the fire.

  “Bless you,” she heard from several people, including Wolfe and the mayor.

  The sneeze brought Melb a newfound sense of freedom that she couldn’t immediately identify. She could breathe, for one thing. And had someone left the door open? There seemed to be a breeze in the house. Then with utter terror she realized she’d blown out her T-shirt’s side seams and now wore what looked like a knit poncho, flapping in the breeze of the nearby conversation. She gasped, jumped up, threw her coat back on, and rushed down the hallway to the bathroom, tears of humiliation welling in her eyes.

  She ran smack dab into Ainsley Parker, throwing her against the wall.

  “Oh … sorry! So sorry!”

  Ainsley called out after Melb. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

  Melb could do nothing but burst into tears.

  Ainsley shut the door to her bedroom and turned to Melb, who was sitting quietly on the end of her bed, sniffling.

  “Melb, don’t worry. We’ll find you something to wear.”

  She saw Melb’s eyes study her figure and then she shook her head. “I doubt that.”

  “Listen, it was probably a very poorly made T-shirt. These days they never double-stitch a seam, and it shows, I tell you. It could’ve happened to anybody.”

  Melb blotted her eyes with a tissue. “It was Garth’s dumb idea to wear matching T-shirts.”

  Ainsley turned from sifting through the clothes in her closet. “Well, Garth can be demanding like that sometimes. You should stand your ground with him, don’t let him push you around. He thinks he always knows best, but he doesn’t.”

  “You’ve known Garth for a long time.”

  “Since we were children.” Ainsley moved hangers down the rack, trying to find anything that might work for Melb. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t say those things about Garth. I’m not trying to be rude. I know you really like him. And he really likes you.”

  “Yeah, we’re a dream come true,” she heard Melb say, though her tone sounded flat.

  “What made you two decide to date?”

  She turned to find Melb chewing furiously at a fingernail. Melb glanced up, startled to find Ainsley looking at her. “Oh … well, there’s always two versions to a story, I guess.”

  “But what made you fall for him?”

  “I’ve always loved animals. So that was a start.”

  “Oh.”

  “How’s it coming over there in the closet?”

  Ainsley pulled out a green cardigan, big and boxy, that she wore mostly around the house. It was one of her favorite sweaters. She hoped with all her might that it would work for Melb. All the poor woman needed was more humiliation.

  “Try this. It should work. And it’s really warm, since I know you’re cold-natured.” She held it up for Melb to see.

  “I was hoping for a tank top soaked in ice water, but this will do,” Melb said, standing. She looked at Ainsley. “I’m not cold-natured. I was just embarrassed about the T-shirt. I think I about had a heat stroke.”

  Ainsley smiled and handed her the sweater. Melb closed the door to the bathroom, and when she came out, the sweater was on, fitting nicely.

  “It looks great on you! Green is definitely your color.”

  Melb turned to the nearby mirror. “Well, it does flatter my figure, I have to say.”

  “Very much so.”

  Melb turned back to her. “Thank you. I’ll get this back to you. And I’ll try not to drip gravy all over it.”

  Ainsley reached for her shoulder. “Melb, are you sure everything’s okay? I mean, are you and Garth doing okay?”

  Melb sniffled and said, “Couldn’t be happier.” And then she walked out.

  “Look, I don’t know what to say. I did the best I could.”

  “Are you trying to tell me that you talked to Boo for twenty minutes and came up with nothing better than ‘Thou shalt not steal’ to steer him away from the faith?”

  “First of all,” said the mayor, “I was a little taken aback by how much Scripture he already knows.”

  “So he outdid you, did he? Knew more than you did? Threw you for a loop? Why weren’t you prepared? You know how much is at stake here!” Missy Peeple leaned forward on her cane, staring at the mayor with harsh eyes.

  “I was prepared!” The mayor removed a stack of note cards from his pocket. “See? All kinds of scriptures here. I’ve got envy. Judging others. Adultery. Murder. Just fitting them into a conversation was a little awkward, that’s all. I mean, ‘Thou shalt not murder’ doesn’t really fit in with, ‘Have you tried the eggnog yet?’ ”

  Missy shook her head. “In this life you will have trouble.”

  “What?”

  “The Bible says that, you know. In fact, it’s a promise.”

  “Well that’s inspiring,” the mayor said blandly.

  Missy sighed. “Just go. Get back in the game. You’re not doing any good standing over here with your note cards. Just remember, sir, that if you don’t succeed, a certain somebody’s going to be writing a certain book about a certain scandal that I’m certain you’d rather not see in print.” The mayor was annoying in his ineptness, but he still had gorgeous eyes. She smiled. “But I trust you won’t fail.”

  Missy Peeple met Garth’s look from across the room. He was standing near the fireplace, staring at her.

  “Excuse me for a moment, will you?” Miss Peeple said. But the mayor grabbed her arm.

  “Not so fast, Missy,” he said. “You’re not going anywhere until I get a straight answer from you.”

  Missy stared into his glaring eyes. “An answe
r to what, Mayor?”

  “Why are you here with this Tennison fellow? Like he’s your date? What’s going on?”

  Miss Peeple smiled. “Does it concern you, my dear?”

  He frowned. “Only in that I think it’s a distraction to the task at hand.” He lowered his voice. “Do I have to remind you what is at stake here? My reputation at the very least.”

  “I’m hardly distracted.”

  “Oh? Then are you trying to tell me while you’re making ga-ga eyes over him, you’re remembering that Skary is at stake?”

  “Everything is under control. Don’t you worry your pretty little self over that, sir.”

  Mayor Wullisworth’s eyes showed surprise, and he stood up straighter, glancing around at the crowd. “I’m, um … I’m not worried. I just want to make sure you’re not distracted.”

  She watched his gaze land on Alfred, who was standing next to the snack plates, dripping ranch dressing down the front of his shirt as he attempted to bite into a carrot. Missy cleared her throat. “He is quite a looker, wouldn’t you say? But Mayor, I’ve always been able to do more than one thing at a time. And I assure you, though the attraction is quite intense between the two of us, Alfred is here for other reasons as well. Remember, he’s got a stake in this too.”

  She carefully edged over to Garth.

  “Garth,” she said confidently, “if you stare at me with much more angst, you’re liable to have that handsome fellow over there on to you.”

  “Don’t give me that song and dance,” Garth said with narrowed eyes. “I know what you’re up to. I know Mr. Tennison is Wolfe’s editor, and you two have as much chemistry between you as two pieces of white bread. Now I want to know what’s going on. Have you made any progress?”

  “Progress is hard to measure, lad,” Miss Peeple said, “but if you must know, all is going as planned.”

  “What’s up your sleeve? I want to know.”

  “You don’t need details. It will just make you a liability. What you need to concentrate on is your assigned task. Have you or haven’t you?”

  Garth glanced around her to make sure they weren’t in earshot of anyone. “Not yet. The timing hasn’t been quite right.”

  “Well honey, the party’s not going to last all day. Get your act together.” She turned and saw Wolfe standing by himself near a shelf of books. He had been talking to Marlee Hampton, who was headed for the drink table for a refill. Ainsley was at the front door, greeting Oliver. “There’s your chance. What are you waiting for?”

  “Fine. I’ll do it.”

  But before Garth could even get around Miss Peeple, Ainsley entered the room and said, “All right everyone! It’s time to eat! Let’s gather in the dining room!”

  The crowd quickly filed out behind Ainsley, and Garth sighed in frustration.

  “Are you up for this or not?” Miss Peeple scowled at him.

  “I know what I’m doing.”

  “I hope so,” Miss Peeple said as she shuffled toward the dining room, “because if you don’t, Boo and Ainsley will most likely be sharing Thanksgiving dinner together again next year. And I feel certain you won’t be invited.”

  CHAPTER 26

  WOLFE FOLLOWED THE group into the lavishly decorated dining room. Ainsley had outdone herself. The long table had an exquisite runner down the middle with fall-colored leaves arrayed delicately around several votive candles. The dimly lit room glowed with a warmth that was both familiar and awe-inspiring.

  “Everyone has an assigned seat, just find your name,” Ainsley instructed, and so everyone obeyed, circling the table.

  “It’s snowing!” someone announced, and the crowd turned to look out the bay window. Sure enough, large white snowflakes poured to the ground en masse.

  “Well, they finally got it right!” Sheriff Parker said.

  “I heard it’s only gonna be flurries,” said Oliver.

  Wolfe moved to the window. He loved snow. It seemed to bring a peace down to earth straight from the heavens. But as he gazed out, he knew these were no small flurries. Already the snow had begun to accumulate, and the large flakes were falling fast. The clouds were dark blue, their bosoms bursting with moisture. He turned to find his seat.

  On the other side of the table, he found his name, surprised to be sitting next to Garth Twyne.

  “Hey, looks like we’re dinner partners,” Garth said with a seedy grin.

  “Garth, what are you doing there?” Ainsley said suddenly from behind Wolfe.

  “Sitting.”

  “But I’m sure I didn’t seat you there,” she said, examining his name tag at the top of his plate. “I seated you by Melb.”

  Wolfe looked up to find Melb across the table, two people down, sitting between Mayor Wullisworth and Reverend Peck. She gave a polite wave.

  “Well, listen, don’t go to any trouble. I’ll sit over here next to our resident celebrity. It’d be my pleasure.”

  “I know I sat Wolfe by Reverend Peck. And you should sit by Melb,” Ainsley insisted.

  “Trust me, we’ll get to spend plenty of time together later, right, my flaky little pastry?”

  Melb blushed, nodded, and glanced at Wolfe.

  Ainsley apologized. “I must’ve accidentally switched them when I was making room for Mr. Tennison.” She looked at Wolfe as she took her seat next to him on the other side. “Sorry,” she whispered.

  “It’s fine,” he assured her.

  Wolfe noticed an empty chair at the end of the table. “Your brother. Isn’t he coming?”

  Ainsley laughed. “Don’t worry. He’s never early but rarely late.”

  Sheriff Parker clinked his fork against his water glass. “Good afternoon, everyone, and welcome to the Parker residence. Happy Thanksgiving!” The table erupted in quiet applause. “Some of you have been here before on Thanksgiving. Others are new. We welcome you all. First of all, as is tradition here every Thanksgiving, we go around the table before we eat and say something we’re thankful for. Now—”

  Just then, as if a light and a string quartet had announced him, a tall blond man in his thirties with tanned skin and dazzling eyes walked through the door. Everyone at the table sensed his presence before he walked in, and when he did appear, there were gasps and cheering and clapping as if a prince had entered.

  “Butch!”

  Some stood, others just smiled happily. Wolfe studied the man as he greeted everyone warmly. He resembled Ainsley in many ways, as he did Sheriff Parker. The name “Butch” did him some justice, as he had a very athletic build, but his features and expressions also reflected intelligence, and the obvious charisma he carried pretty much rounded him out to be the perfect male, not to mention he was about the best looking man Wolfe had ever seen. Wolfe swallowed three sips of water and watched as Butch finally made his way around the table to his father, whom he hugged warmly, and then to Ainsley. He messed up her hair and then hugged her, too.

  “Am I late?” he said.

  “Just on time, as always,” Sheriff Parker said proudly. “Good to see you, son. You’re looking fit. How’s the Delta Force?” Sheriff Parker glanced around the table, his face unashamedly preened.

  “Dad, nobody wants to hear about that,” Butch said, and everyone naturally protested. He smiled humbly and winked, for no apparent reason, at Marlee, who blushed and giggled like she was fourteen. Butch’s attention suddenly shifted to Wolfe. “I thought I knew everyone here, but I don’t believe we’ve met.”

  Wolfe stood, glad he was as tall as Butch. Butch flashed a killer grin and held out his hand. “I’m Butch Parker.”

  “This is Wolfe. Boone.” Ainsley stood quickly, nervously.

  Butch’s eyebrows rose. “Oh? No kidding.” The room quieted as the two shook hands. “Well, nice to meet you! And have you to our home for Thanksgiving!”

  Wolfe relaxed. Butch’s charisma was contagious, his smile genuine. Wolfe felt truly welcome. Butch slapped him on the back and went to the other end of the table to sit down. “We
ll? What are we waiting for? Let’s eat! I wait all year for this kind of meal!”

  “Huh-uh, not yet,” Sheriff Parker said, standing again. “Not before we do my favorite tradition, which is to go around and tell what you’re thankful for.” Sheriff Parker looked to his left. “Miss Peeple, why don’t you start?”

  Miss Peeple nodded her head and said, “Of course. I’m thankful for”—she paused, as if thinking deeply—“Skary, Indiana. And all that it is.” She smiled decisively and then looked toward Alfred Tennison on her left.

  Alfred cleared his throat nervously and shrugged. “I, uh … I guess I’m thankful for the food. It’s been a long time since I had a turkey for Thanksgiving.”

  Reverend Peck, a certain sadness still lingering in his eyes, said, “I’m thankful for Thanksgiving. It always reminds me of how much we have.”

  Melb was next, and she stared oddly across the table at Garth before saying, “I’m thankful for Garth Twyne.” She punctuated this statement with a small smile. “The love of my life.”

  Garth grinned at her and then glanced, for no reason, at Ainsley, who just smiled back at him approvingly.

  Mayor Wullisworth said, “I’m thankful that God hates tattletales but favors plagues for those who are so inclined.” He glanced at Alfred Tennison and then gave a stiff chuckle. “Just being humorous. No, I’m glad to be the mayor of Skary, Indiana, the greatest place to live in the world.”

  The crowd offered an apprehensive laugh.

  Marlee Hampton said, “I’m thankful for Mary Kay, the woman and the company, and especially their new line of eye shadows that are guaranteed to stay on through the longest of dates.” She batted her eyes at Butch.

  Butch was next and he said, “I’m thankful to be alive. I can’t give you details, but I had some close calls this year.”