A Flock and a Fluke (Clucks and Clues Cozy Mysteries) by Hillary Avis

Author:Hillary Avis [Avis, Hillary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hilyard Press
Published: 2020-01-30T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Tuesday, Day 4

The next morning, I was waiting on the sidewalk when a freshly curled and pressed Margie Morrow unlocked the door to City Hall. She wore a royal purple skirt-suit with a huge silk peony quivering on her left lapel. “Mayor of Honeytree, OR” was embroidered in gold on the jacket’s breast pocket. Now that was confidence. She obviously wasn’t worried about needing a new wardrobe after next month’s election.

I tried to enter the building, but Margie moved to block the doorway, raising a drawn-on eyebrow at me. “I’m surprised to see you here, Leona.”

“Why’s that?” I raised my eyebrows right back. “Isn’t this the place to register for a table at the farmers market?”

She smiled, her fuchsia lipstick cracking at the edges, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m disappointed in you. I really am.”

I snorted and squeezed past her into the small lobby. Honeytree had apparently bought grim gray office furniture in bulk—the décor in here was the same as in Eli’s office. The only difference was the “Life is Sweet in Honeytree” banner that hung above the reception desk. I spun the circular rack of forms, scanning it for the farmers market application. “Sorry you feel that way.”

“I expected to hear more around town about Pastor Cal’s...situation,” she said behind me, with all the tact of a pig at a trough.

I spotted the form I was looking for and plucked it out of the rack before turning to face her. “I did a little investigation after we talked. Turns out, the situation wasn’t as simple as you made it out to be, Marge.”

She made a face at the nickname. “I haven’t the foggiest idea what you’re talking about.”

“You kind of left out the part where you were attempting to blackmail Cal to drop out of the race.” I grabbed a pen off the desk and sat down to fill out the form.

“I never did any such thing.” Margie sniffed. “I only suggested politely that he might want to avoid the scandal when the details of their marital situation came out. If my years in politics have taught me anything, it’s that things always come out eventually.”

“They do if you plan to announce them at the Easter Scramble.” I filled in the blanks for name and address on the farmers market form, then checked the box next to “small local farm” with a flourish. “I think you moved from ‘polite suggestion’ to ‘blackmail’ when you put a deadline on his decision.”

“People deserve to know,” she said indignantly. “You can’t have informed voters without information, right? And Cal came around to that opinion, too. He agreed to withdraw rather than tell people the truth.”

I signed the bottom of the form and handed it to her. “Is it still fifteen bucks?”

She put on a pair of purple reading glasses from the desk and scanned the paper. Then she gave it back to me. “You forgot to write down your egg handler’s license number.”

I flushed. “It’s not required.”

“It certainly is!”

“Check the code, Margie.

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