Саманта Сильвер - Lipstick On A Pig

“Oh yeah?”

“Definitely. Apparently he’s trying to buy the building your vet clinic is in, Betty’s Café and the long building that houses that children’s clothing store, the swanky gift shop and the art gallery. Apparently, his plan with Betty’s Café was to modernize the whole thing. He wanted to put in floor-to-ceiling windows, change the façade out front to be sleek and modern and make Betty change the logo.”

“I hope she told him to pound sand,” I replied incredulously. Jason laughed.

“She did, definitely. Betty told me she’s owned that building since she started the café in the late nineties, and no young whipper-snapper with more money than business sense was going to ruin her business or this town, as far as she was concerned. She told me I could quote her on that.”

I laughed. “Wow, it must be serious. I rarely ever hear Betty say a bad thing about anyone.”

“Exactly. I wonder what other properties he’s thinking of buying that we haven’t heard about yet.”

“I don’t know, but I don’t like it.”

“Me neither. But, unfortunately, there’s not much we can do about it. When the festival is over I’ll write an article in the paper. Who knows. Maybe the people will be so outraged that my article will spur an open revolt. It’s every journalist’s dream.”

“Really? Inspiring a revolt against a business developer in small town Oregon is your dream?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, to start with. Eventually I hope to write an article that will inspire a populace to topple a fascist regime somewhere, but I figure this is a good start.”

“Start small and work your way up,” I laughed as I linked my arm in his. “Now, what do you say we forget about the fact that I tried to attack you, and let’s go enjoy this festival.”

“Oh, I’m not going to forget about that, or let you forget it... ever,” Jason teased, his eyes glimmering as he let me lead him down toward the beach.

Chapter 11

Arm in arm, I walked with Jason along the beach. Everywhere we went people were talking about the murder. It seemed that not only was it the talk of the Festival of Fun here in Willow Bay, but it had actually led to more people visiting than would have otherwise. It seemed a little macabre to me, to visit a place just to see the festival someone had been murdered at.

“The irony is, the murder has actually improved festival turnout,” Jason said, obviously thinking the same thing I was.

“It’s crazy, isn’t it? You’d think people would be afraid to come here, not clamoring to be here so they can tell all their friends they were here where the murder took place.”

A huge wave suddenly took out one of the surfers, and a loud cheer rose up from the crowd as they enjoyed the carnage. I turned to have a look. What? Half the fun of watching extreme sports was seeing the crashes.

“If you want we can head up to the stands on the other end of the beach,” Jason said, motioning to where a small set of bleachers had been installed to give VIPs a better view through the crowd.

“Aren’t those reserved for VIPs only though?” The VIP seats were sold for around three hundred dollars each. A number of prominent businessmen from the Portland area generally bought them every year, so they could say they came to the festival but didn’t have to mingle with the regular people on the beach. Jason grinned.

“You forget, I’ve spent three days now schmoozing people, and that includes the VIPs. We can go up there no problem, I guarantee it.”

“All right,” I replied, and we made our way over. However, just before we reached the bleachers, I saw someone I recognized. It was the man I had impersonated that morning! Lester Forrester. He was talking with a man I didn’t recognize; they were walking away from the bleachers, heads together like they were talking about something important.

I stopped and grabbed Jason’s arm.

“What is it?” he asked, and I pointed to the two men.

“That’s one of the partners at Jessica’s job. I don’t recognize the man he’s talking to, but what if they’re talking about the murder?”

“Then we definitely need to listen in,” Jason replied, understanding immediately. It was good, dating a journalist. I knew if Charlotte was here she’d complain that eavesdropping was terrible and we shouldn’t do it and a whole bunch of other nagging that I’d promptly ignore.

“Awesome,” I grinned as the two of us made our way as subtly as possible toward the two men. They made their way away from the crowd and behind the nearby taco truck. Continuing past it, they headed to the beach parking lot on the far side of the beach who’s sixty or so available spots had all long been taken up. They stopped, leaning against a late model white Porsche SUV and continued to talk.

Jason motioned for me to follow him. We swiftly ran to the other side of the parking lot, and made our way back to where the two men were, standing on the other side of the Porsche. It was a tall enough car that when Jason and I crouched down slightly, there was no way the two men on the other side of the car could see us.

“You’re going to have to take care of this, Les.”

“I know. I know, I’m taking care of it.”

“How? You’re a lawyer, for goodness sake. When one of your employees turns up dead, it’s not good for business.”

“Yeah, well, how the hell was I supposed to know that one of Jonathan’s playthings was going to turn up dead in some hick town?”

My face flamed red at hearing the man speak of Willow Bay like that. I had half a mind to throw myself out there and tell him just what I thought of him and his opinions, but Jason grabbed my arm firmly and shook his head. I realized he was right; we could get far better information by continuing to eavesdrop.

“Besides,” Lester continued. “It’s not like she was a high profile partner or anything. She was just an intern. It’s not going to be bad for business.”

“It had better not be, Les. Especially with what happened back in Chicago.”

“That was an accident too. Besides, the cops ruled Jonathan out of that murder. He had a rock solid alibi.”

“Well all I’m saying, is that when your partner has two employees that he just happens to be sleeping with turn up dead, it’s not a good thing.” My eyebrows rose. It looked like I had some Googling to do when we got home.

“It’s a coincidence, Gary. Nothing more.”

“I want to get out in front of this. We need to get out in front of this.”

“I know, I know. I said I’d handle it, ok?”

“Last time you handled it so well, you got driven out of town and had to move to Portland.”

“Look, I know you think that was all because of that girl being murdered, but I’m telling you, it wasn’t. We had planned on moving to Portland anyway.”

“That’s bull and we both know it. Besides, it doesn’t matter what the truth is. If the media figures this out, they’re going to run with what sells papers. And right now, the fact is, that two people working for your business have been murdered in the last ten years.”

I saw Lester Forrester throw his hands up in frustration.

“Fine. Whatever. You’re the public relations expert, Gary. If you think you’re so smart, you figure it out.”

“I’m just trying to keep you out of trouble Les. That’s what big brothers do. I told you years ago to stay the hell away from Jonathan Cork.”

“You always hated the guy. He’s never actually done anything though. The girl in Chicago, that was probably just some crazy guy looking for a thrill. I told you, the police looked at Jonathan then. He had an airtight alibi, there was no way he could have done it.”