Founders' Day Fiasco by London Lovett

Author:London Lovett [Lovett, London]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wild Fox Press

Chapter 19

The police had been conveniently parked near the parade route in case there was a problem. I doubted they expected the chaos that had erupted when the dragon rolled into the grandstand. The paramedics had been needed after all for a sprained ankle, a congresswoman's heel caught on the steps as she fled the stands. A small fight also broke out when the curious spectators grew too pushy and elbows started jabbing noses. I was thankful that the officers were able to clear the entire area without any other incidents.

I was also thankful to see the tall hunk of man I called honey and also Detective Jackson. He was shaking his head as he entered the float. He had to practically walk on his knees. "How do you do it, Miss Taylor? Parades aren't generally known for dead people but then you were here, so I guess it was a given."

Jackson pulled out his flashlight and shined it on Sylvia's face and arms. "That red mottled skin coloring is something we see with carbon monoxide poisoning. I don't see any signs of trauma." He swept the flashlight all around the inside of the box. "Looks pretty solid. I've never been inside one of these before. Where does the exhaust leave? And how on earth do they see what's going on outside?"

"I actually know the answers to both those questions." I walked to the front of the car and pointed out the peephole, a slim rectangle at the front of the base. Flower petals were blocking a lot of the opening.

Jackson peered through it. "That is a limited view."

"They can see the white line. That's what they follow to stay on course and away from crowds and grandstands. I noticed that Sylvia wasn't following the line. By the way, she wasn't supposed to be driving the car. Benny," I said to myself.

"What about Benny?" Jackson asked.

"He's the guy who was supposed to be driving the float. This is his Impala."

Jackson's flashlight beam reflected off the cherry red paint. "It's pretty sweet. Is Benny Sylvia's husband?"

"No, he's a custodian, a handyman for the event. Nice guy but he disappeared just before the floats were supposed to line up. Sylvia, who seemed to have been somewhat of a micromanager, decided she would drive the float to the starting point. Her dragon was first in line."

"Hold all that stuff you have for when we get out of here. I'm getting a crick in my back from stooping over. How does the exhaust get out of this coffin?"

"Gosh, you're right. It really is like a big coffin. Especially with a corpse in it." I shivered once. "It's starting to get to me."

"You can go. The coroner will be here soon I'm going to see if we can push the car out from this mess. But first—the exhaust."

"Right." I walked to the back of the float. "Within the larger flap that allowed the car to roll inside there's a small, far less visible flap that is left open for ventilation.

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