Mayhem in Miniature by Mayhem in Miniature (v5.0) (pdf)

Author:Mayhem in Miniature (v5.0) (pdf) [Miniature, Mayhem in]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

§

Two hours later my car was full of lace, velvet, fake fur,

and one little drummer boy, complete with a red- and- green

drum. We headed south on Springfield Boulevard toward

city hall, rum- pa- pa- pum blaring out of my car’s tinny

speakers. Maddie sat rigidly, as if the tiny bit of makeup

Beverly had dusted on her face had turned her whole body

stiff.

It was nice to go to an affair where I had very little to do

besides show up and have a good time. I’d delivered room

scenes around town and helped with the items for the silent

auction for the Mary Todd ball, but those were minor activi-

ties and hardly any work, compared to times when I was in

charge of fund- raisers and crafts fairs. Skip had arranged for

our tickets, so even the logistics of ordering were taken care

of.

The downside was that we arrived with all the other

guests and jockeyed for parking rather than pulling into a

prime spot hours earlier than anyone else.

I followed a line of cars into the civic center’s semicircular

Mayhem in Miniature

141

driveway and to the left into a special lot the police depart-

ment had made available for the eve ning. I lowered my win-

dow and turned down the volume of the Christmas music so

we could chat with the people in the parking lot—the lucky

ones who’d already found a spot and were now walking to-

ward the hall.

Gail Musgrave, our newest city council member and ex-

cellent crafter (a master at the split- level ranch) leaned in on

Beverly’s side.

“Did you see the article in yesterday’s paper about Steve

Talley’s newest proposal? I’ll be circulating a petition

against it,” Gail said. The po liti cal pitch was incongruous

with Gail’s lovely white, square- necked gown. One of her

puffy sleeves brushed against my side mirror and I dreaded

seeing the smudge of dirt it most certainly deposited on the

lace.

“I read the piece. On restoring the Nolin Creek Pines

neighborhood, right?” I said.

“Doesn’t matter what you call it. Upgrading, restoring,

what ever. The point is that no one who lives there now will

be able to afford to stay once Steve brings in his crew to . . .

ahem . . . improve the quality of life there.”

“Having just visited the area, I have to say the neighbor-

hood could use improving, Gail.”

Gail leaned in closer. “Not the kind he has in mind. What

those buildings need is someone to clean them up, repair the

basics—and police them.” Shades of Dolores’s pitch. I was

glad Dolores had someone on her side. “What ever he tells

you, Steve’s plan is to level the buildings. He’s been itching

to do that and put in upscale condos and chichi shops.”

Beep beep. Gentle but firm taps on horns from the cars

behind me. “We should discuss this later, Gail,” I said.

“Merry Christmas, by the way,” Beverly said, getting a

laugh from Gail. “I guess politics never sleeps.”

“Are you kidding? This is the kind of event where most of

it gets done.” Gail walked away fanning herself with a lovely

lacy number I recognized from Lori Leigh’s collection.

Though the chilly eve

ning hardly required an additional

breeze, her gesture made for great theater.

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