A bee buzzed Festus Dunston’s face as he wrangled the extension ladder into place against his two story colonial. He wasn’t a young man anymore, and he was carrying an extra forty pounds around his middle, but his determination carried the day.

The ladder creaked ominously as he climbed nearly all the way to the top of its reach.

“Son of a bitch,” he exclaimed, as he eyed the small trees that were growing out of the gutters. The overgrowth was even worse than he’d assumed when he’d been down on the ground, “This is going to take me all damn day!”

He began yanking the muck out of the gutter, throwing it angrily down to the lawn below him.

The ladder shook. Festus pulled his hand out of the sludge and clenched the ladder as he glared down at the figure at the base of the ladder.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Festus’ tone was furious, but the sudden beads of sweat sliding down his paunchy cheeks gave away his alarm.

“What’s wrong? Am I scaring you?”

“Absolutely not!” Festus said, even as he took a step down the ladder.

The ladder shook again, this time more violently.

Festus’ hands were damp as he clenched them tightly around the metal, “Stop doing that!” he bellowed down at the figure on the ground.

“You’re such a dick. You know that, don’t you?”

“Look, I can see that you’re upset, but, honestly, I’m just doing my job.” Festus furtively slipped his foot down onto the next rung. If he could just reach the ground, he would call the cops and have this person arrested immediately.

“No, I don’t think so. I think you just like being a dick. It feels good being the one that gets to make all the decisions, doesn’t it? Kind of like how I feel right now?”

The ladder swayed again, and Festus cried out as he wrapped his arms tightly around it. He desperately wanted to climb down, but he was afraid to loosen his grip. He looked around, but there was no one to save him.

“Listen, maybe I could work something out with you.” Of course, Festus had no intention of doing anything but call the cops on his agitator, but first, he needed to get the hell off of this damn ladder.

A chuckle drifted up to him.

Festus glanced down at the maniacal grin that was staring up at him. His heart suddenly started pounding furiously as the sudden sway of the ladder rocked him dizzyingly. His foot slipped off the rung just as the ladder was shook so forcefully that it pulled away from the house. Gravity took over, and Festus screamed as he felt the ladder begin to tip backwards, plunging him to the ground.

“What do you think happened here?” Luanna Finwith glanced over at Rodney Remus, Hudson Cove’s newly hired assistant detective.

“It looks pretty cut and dried, I would say,” Rodney shrugged, “He fell off of his ladder and cracked his head open,” Rodney gave a cursory look at the tall hedges that encircled the yard, effectively cutting off the view from the street that ran along the front of the house, “He was alone when it happened, and the neighbors didn’t see him fall. Poor bastard.”

“The poor bastard,” Luanna pursed her lips, “You know who he was?”

“Nope.”

“His name was Festus Dunston, Remus, and he was Hudson Cove’s city administrator,” Luanna squatted down, examining the ground around where she imagined the ladder had once been propped against the house. She stood up, “He issues the town permits and oversees the festivals, of which there are many.”

“Obviously, a very important man, then.” Rodney said, with a touch of snark that he wasn’t quite willing to hide.

Luanna looked him square in the eye until he broke and looked down at his feet. She deplored him. She really did. Why, after nearly twenty-five years as Hudson Cove’s sole detective, they’d decided she needed help, Luanna would never understand. At the very least, they could have offered her the right to choose her own assistant.

“I want all of the permit requests that have been filed for the past year, Remus.” Luanna informed him. She enjoyed the frown that appeared on his youthful face. She needed him out of the way so that the real work could get done, and, she considered it a bonus that he detested paperwork.

************************************************************************

“Finwith.” Luanna dropped her fork into her bowl of salad as she answered her cell.

“We got the reports back. Dunston died between 3 and 6 p.m. on Wednesday the 12th. Massive head trauma was the cause of death. They dusted the ladder. Someone had wiped it down, but they did find a partial print that didn’t match Dunston. They entered it into the database, but there wasn’t a hit.”

***********************************************************************

“Mrs. Hardy, did you see anything unusual on Wednesday, the 12th, in respect to Mr. Dunston’s house?” Luanna asked the harried housewife who lived across the road from Festus.

“No, I don’t think so,” Jean Hardy answered, as she adjusted her daughter on her hip and gave a toy to her whining son, “I was busy with the kids, of course, and it’s been so hot out that we don’t stay outside longer than it takes for them to run out some of their energy and for me to snap a few photos for the memory books. Summer goes by so quick, you know.”

Luanna nodded absently, “Did you get along with Mr. Dunston?” she asked her, her hand already on the doorknob.

“Well, honestly, the first few years after we moved here were a bit rough. He was a stickler for the rules, you know. He called us in for not keeping the lawn mowed short enough, or for leaving the kids’ toys outside, but then we finally figured out all the rules and we haven’t had a problem since.”

Luanna thanked her, told her to contact her if she remembered anything else, and left. She got into her car slowly. She’d already canvassed the entire neighborhood. From what she could tell, most of Festus Dunston’s neighbors had either not known him well, or hadn’t really cared for him. He’d lived alone since his divorce two years prior, and he had never had children. He had, however, taken an inordinate interest in his job.

Luanna pulled the visor down and fiddled with her short strands of graying hair. She didn’t want to think about the fact that, should she die, most people would probably say the same about her and her job, as well.

Her cell phone beeped and she grabbed it, “Finwith.”

“I have all of the requests.” Rodney said.

“Good. I’ll be right in,” Luanna flipped the visor up, “In the meantime, check up on Festus’ ex, Wanda. She might have remarried or moved out of town. Find out.”

************************************************************************

Luanna fell back in her office chair and closed her eyes. She’d been looking at all of the permit requests that Festus Dunston had turned down in the year leading up to his death. It seemed like a long shot, and it probably was, but she was struggling to find another angle. A tap on the door made her open her eyes.

“Wanda Dunston lives in Livingston,” Rodney said, “And, get this, according to one of her neighbors, Festus showed up at her apartment on the Saturday before his death, and they got into a heated argument that was,” he consulted a sheet of paper in his hand, “So loud that I almost called the cops. I didn’t, but only because I went over and knocked on her door, and they shut up, finally.”

************************************************************************

“I’m not buying anything, so go away.”

“I’m not selling anything, Ms. Dunston. My name is Luanna Finwith, chief detective with Hudson Cove. I need to ask you a few questions.”

The door opened.

Wanda Dunston did not look happy.

“So, ask.” she pursed her thin lips.

“May I come in?”

“I was just about to leave, so make it quick,” Wanda sighed as she stepped aside, allowing Luanna entry into her tidy apartment.

“Ms. Dunston, I assume you are aware of your ex-husband’s death?”

Wanda stared at her for a long moment, “Yes. The funeral home called me,” she sat down on the couch with a small groan, “We had bought plots together, you know, back when we were together, of course, and they still had me listed as next of kin. They wanted to know if I wanted to come in and go over the service that we’d selected.”

“And, did you?”

“Of course.”

“What was your relationship with Festus like, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Like our marriage,” Wanda lit a cigarette, “Could you sit down so that I don’t have to keep looking up at you?”

Luanna took a seat on the chair. She decided to get straight to the point, “Your neighbor said that Festus was over on the Saturday before he was found. She said that you got into a rather loud, heated argument. True?”

Wanda shrugged.

“Mind telling me what you were arguing about?”

“What we always argued about, I guess,” she drew on her cigarette and blew the smoke forcefully out in Luanna’s direction, “Look, Festus was an asshole, all right. He liked to lord it over people, including me. He paid me alimony. Two hundred a month. It wasn’t much, but it helped me pay the bills. He never got it to me on time, though,” she leaned forward, “You wanna know why? Because he was an asshole, that’s why. He knew that the only way I could force the issue was to take him to court, and I couldn’t afford that.”

“Can you tell me what you were doing on Wednesday, the 12th, between 3 and 6 p.m.?

“I was at work until 5, then I was here.”

“Where do you work?”

“Feller’s Insurance. I’m a claims adjuster.”

“And where is that?”

“In Hudson Cove.”

************************************************************************

The Fantastical Fried Pie food truck was painted a brilliant lime green, with an enormous rendition of a purple flying pig, spewing fried pies out of its mouth, painted across its side.

The smell of hot grease emanated from the open order window as Luanna approached.

A man leaned out of the window, his large frame filling the small space, “Can I help you?” he asked.

Luanna held her badge up for his inspection, “Luanna Finwith, chief detective. Are you the owner?”

The man drew back inside the window. A moment later, the door opened and he stepped outside.

“I am,” he peeled a food grade white glove off and reached out for her hand, “Name’s Abe Lardy, but I guess you already know that.”

Luanna shook his hand, trying not to wince in disgust at how wet and sweaty his hand was, “You were turned down for a spot at the fair coming up?”

“Yeah. So?” Abe glared down at her as he crossed his arms across his chest.

“Where were you on the afternoon of Wednesday, the 12th?”

“I was here, I guess. I’m always here. Got to keep hustling, you know?”

A woman and a young boy approached the truck, and Abe called, “Be with you in one sec.”

“The art fair is a big deal. Must be a lot of money in it for the lucky ones that get to park along Main Street, I would surmise.”

“Oh, sure. Sure. I was bummed that I didn’t get a spot, but I’ll try again next year.” Abe eyed his customers, impatiently.

“I’ll let you get back to your business then. Thanks for your time.”

************************************************************************

“Are you ready to put paid to the Festus Dunston case, boss?” Rodney asked Luanna, as he joined her at her desk.

Rodney said the word, ‘boss,’ in such a way that left no doubt that he didn’t see her that way at all, and it grated on her last nerve. She rubbed her aching forehead, wishing the pain reliever that she’d recently taken would kick the fuck in, “No, I’m not, Remus. It wasn’t an accident. He was murdered.”

“I don’t know, boss. That print could be from anyone. And no one saw anyone on his property at the time of death. The man fell off his ladder. Happens all the time. Simple. Case solved.”

Luanna stood up, “I’m going into the city to talk to,” she paused and picked up a sheet of paper with a few names and addresses scribbled on it, “Merritt Sumner. In the meantime, I need you to go check out the last two names on this list.”

Merritt Sumner had submitted a request for a booth at the art show, and, according to the notation that Festus had written on the submission form, had been rejected for her work being too avant garde for a family art fair.

Luanna had to circle the block four times before she found a parking spot in front of the apartment building that she had listed as her address. She was stopped by a locked door and a buzzer. She punched the button next to Merritt’s name.

“Yes?” a female voice responded.

“Merritt Sumner?”

“Yes.”

“I’m detective Luanna Finwith, from Hudson Cove police. Can I come up and have a quick chat with you?”

The door unlatched. Luanna went up two flights and down a long hallway. She tapped on the door and it opened on its own. She had to hold back an astonished gasp as she stepped into an artist’s studio. Painted canvases covered every wall, and more were propped against the furniture. She could see immediately why Festus had turned Merritt down. All of the work featured nudes in very suggestive poses.

“I’m in the middle of a session,” a woman said, drawing Luanna’s attention to her left, where a dark haired woman stood at an easel in front of three enormous, bare windows. With the light that spilled into the room from the windows almost blinding her, Luanna didn’t immediately see the naked couple that were entwined on a velvet couch, “I pay them by the hour, so …”

“I’ll be quick,” Luanna glanced awkwardly at the couple, “But I would prefer to talk to you alone.”

“Five minute break.” Merritt told the couple.

The man and woman got up, buck naked, and sauntered slowly across the living room and into a bedroom.

Luanna waited until the door closed, “Our records show that you were turned down for a booth at the Hudson Cove Art Fair later this month.”

Merritt pulled a face, “Oh yeah, that. I was pretty pissed off, honestly. The man said that my work was too ‘out there’ for the type of thing they put on. I even told him that I would be willing to spring for a covered tent with a warning sign out front, so kids couldn’t even see anything, right? But, the damn asshole still rejected me.”

“That man was murdered.” Luanna informed her.

Shock skittered quickly across Merritt’s thin face, “Really? Wow. Sorry to hear that,” then, “Wait. You think that I killed him?”

“Where were you between 3 and 6 p.m. on Wednesday, the 12th?”

“I go to yoga on Wednesday,” Merritt dropped a brush into a cup of solvent, “Hot yoga. The class meets at 4:30.”

“What’s the name of the place?”

“Lotus. It’s over on Vine Street.”

“Thanks for your time.” Luanna let herself out, already deciding that she would put Remus to task on checking up with Merritt’s alibi.

**********************************************************************

“I’ll have turkey on wheat. No mayo. A very, very thin smear of Dijon on one slice of bread only. Two tomato slices, thin, not thick, or I will send it back, a layer of baby spinach, two, equally thin slices of red onion, and a slice of baby swiss, cut on the diagonal.”

Luanna was amazed at the deli man’s patience as he took the woman’s order down. If it had been her, she would have told the woman to make the damn sandwich herself.

When the woman received her order and flounced off without so much as a thank you, Luanna gave the guy a sympathetic nod, “I’ll just have a number 5.” she told him.

“I swear, that woman’s going to be the death of me.” the man said, as he sliced down the length of bread.

“She come here often?”

“Every damn day. Sheila Ware. She owns the boutique next door. She’s been a thorn in my side ever since she moved in last year. Thinks because she gets the most business that she can flounce around lording over the rest of us.”

While she waited for him to finish her sandwich, Luanna spotted the flyers pasted on the front of the meat case, “You must get pretty good business during the art fair, at least.” she mused, aloud.

The man shrugged, “Not really. The tents go up right there along the street and they pretty much block us out. You should have heard Sheila when she heard about it.” he chuckled with a fair amount of glee.

“I can only imagine.” Luanna stepped down to the register and paid.

“Yeah, she actually went up and down the street, both sides, and insisted that all of us sign a petition to get the art fair moved to the city park.” he said, as he slid her sandwich across the counter.

Luanna decided to drop her sandwich off in her car. It seemed like a good time to pay a visit to Sheila Ware.

The boutique windows were a sight to behold. The scene was a cocktail party featuring lithe, long limbed mannequins fancily dressed, and draped in glittering jewels. Hoity toity, indeed, Luanna thought, as she opened the door and went inside. It was exactly the type of shop that made her feel like she didn’t belong there, but she pushed past the feeling and went to find the owner.

“Sheila Ware?” she asked, as she found the woman fluffing a pillow on a settee, near a shelf lined with delicate, strappy shoes.

The woman turned around and raised a thin brow in question.

“I’m Luanna Finwith, Hudson Cove police. I’d like to ask you a couple of questions, if you don’t mind.”

“Well, whatever about?” Sheila gestured for her to follow her into an office. She went behind a filigreed desk and took a seat.

Luanna perched on the edge of a tiny, black satin covered chair, “Ms. Ware, how long have you been here, on Main Street?”

“It’s coming up on a year, I believe, but, shouldn’t you tell me why you are asking?”

“I’m investigating a murder,” Luanna rather enjoyed the small mew of surprise that the snooty woman expressed, “Can you tell me of any interactions that you may have had with Festus Dunston, Ms. Ware?”

“Festus Dunston? Oh, you mean that man with the city. Awful man. Just awful. I’ll have you know that he refused, refused to honor my request to move the art fair, and all of those other fairs that this town insists on having, to the city park, which, quite honestly, is a brilliant plan that I came up with.”

“I would assume that having those fairs would actually help, not hinder, your business.”

Sheila glowered at her, “Of course not!” she exclaimed, “Those tents they set up will completely ruin the view of my window display, and I paid very good money to have that done. I hired the same team that does the windows for …”

Luanna held up her hand, “Just tell me about the interactions that you had with Mr. Dunston.”

“Fine. Well, I’ll admit that I was rather put out when I found out about the tents going up in the street right outside. I went to his office and offered up my idea to move the fairs to the park. He said no, of course. I left, but I decided to take up a petition of everyone here on Main Street.”

“Did everyone sign it?”

“Well, no. But several of us did, and again I went to pay him a visit, and do you know what he did? He actually took my petition out of my hands and he tore it up right in front of me. I was furious. I had every right to be.”

“Then what happened?”

“I suppose I might have yelled a bit, but he deserved it. The man was atrocious.”

“Where were you on Wednesday, the 12th, between 3 and 6 p.m.?”

“I was here.”

A tap on the door made both of them turn their attention to the man standing in the doorway.

“I finished unloading the furniture over at the house. Am I done for the day?” the man asked. He was wearing a tight t-shirt, and Luanna couldn’t help but notice his bulging biceps.

She looked back at Sheila Ware, who was staring at the man with open desire, “I was hoping you could help me unbox the rest of the summer dresses first?”

“Not a problem.” the man nodded in Luanna’s direction and then left.

“Who was that?” Luanna asked.

“Oh, that’s my boyfriend, Sean. It’s a new relationship. I know he’s a bit young for me, but, hey, if you can catch them, why not?”

“How new?”

“Oh, about two months now.”

************************************************************************

“According to their records, Merritt Sumner was not at Lotus Yoga Studio on Wednesday, the 12th,” Rodney stated, “Should I go have a word with her?”

“That’s fine,” Luanna said, distractedly, “I’m going to head over to Festus Dunston’s, maybe canvas the neighborhood again.”

“Seems like a waste of time, but hey, it’s your call.” Rodney grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair and left.

Luanna was too tired to be annoyed with him. She’d barely slept the night before. It was always like this when a case was bugging her. There was something that she’d seen, something vital, but, like a word on the tip of her tongue, she couldn’t seem to capture it and hold it up to the light for examination. Somewhere around 4 in the morning, she’d finally decided that she needed to start at the top again. That meant going back to the neighborhood where Festus Dunston had died.

************************************************************************

“Mrs. Hardy, I’m afraid that I need to ask you a few more questions.”

“I really don’t have anything more to add,” she said, as she wrestled a shoe onto her daughter’s foot, “Like I said, I didn’t see anything unusual over at Mr. Dunston’s house.”

“Mommy, why is she here again?” her young son clung to her leg, “Can we still go outside?”

“Yes, Ryan, we can still go outside. Just give me a second, okay? I need to get your sister’s shoes on and then we’ll go,” she looked up at Luanna, “Sorry, but I promised them that I would take them out to play.”

Luanna’s eyes landed on the hall table, and her memory was jolted, “Mrs. Hardy, I remember the last time that I was here, there was a stack of photos on this table. Could I see them again?”

“Now?”

“Yes. I can put her shoe on, if you’d like.”

“Fine, I’ll go try to round them up,” she handed the small shoe to Luanna, “Oh, and she likes to curl her toes, so good luck getting that on her.”

After a few minutes of unsuccessful struggle, Luanna realized that she’d made a good choice not to have children.

“Here they are,” Jean handed the stack of pictures to Luanna, “Couldn’t do it, huh?” she smirked, as she took the shoe, and her daughter, back.

Luanna shuffled through the pictures, stopping when she came to the one that she remembered seeing on the top of the stack the last time that she’d been there. It was a picture of Jean’s kids playing in their front yard, but there was a sliver of a vehicle just on the edge of the photo, and the color had caught her eye. It was lime green. She looked down at Jean, who was still trying to wrestle the shoe onto her daughter’s foot, “Does a food truck do business on this street?” she asked.

“No, not usually,” Jean paused and looked up at her. She spotted the photo in Luanna’s hand, “Oh, that’s right. I remember now,” she handed the shoe to her little girl and stood up, “We were outside last week and this food truck, it had a pig on it …”

“A flying pig, Mommy. It was a flying pig!” Ryan exclaimed, excitedly.

“Yes, Ryan, it did have a flying pig on it. Anyway, we were outside, so I took them up to see it, but no one was in it at first. We were standing there looking at the side of the truck, and then the guy came rushing around the front of the truck, saw us there, and said that he was out of food and he drove off.”

Luanna flipped the photo around. The date it was taken was stamped on the back. The 12th, it said.

************************************************************************

The lunchtime crowd had thinned considerably by the time that Luanna reached the Fantastical Fried Pie truck. She stepped up to the window and watched Abe Lardy’s expression change as he recognized her, “I need you to come down to the station with me, please.” she informed him.

************************************************************************

“I wasn’t planning on doing it,” Abe Lardy said, so quietly that Luanna had to lean in closer, “I was just going to scare him. He was just such a dick, you know? Laughing at me when I tried to plead my case for a permit. Said nobody wanted my greasy crap.”

Luanna nodded encouragingly.

“I happened to see him out driving one day, so I closed up the truck and followed him. I was just planning on scaring him a little, but he was just such a …”

“You found him on the ladder?”

“Yes.” Abe dropped his head to the desk with a groan of despair.

“And you shook the ladder?”

“Yes.”

“Until he fell?”

“Yes.”

“And you left him there, on the ground?”

“Yes.”

Luanna stood up, “Abe Lardy, you are under arrest for the murder of Festus Dunston.” she said, as another officer approached him with handcuffs.

She stepped out of the interview room and started down the hallway. Rodney Remus came around the corner, “Hey, I was looking for you. Merritt Sumner doesn’t have an alibi for the 12th.”

“Doesn’t matter, Remus. The case has been solved.” Luanna winked at him and kept on walking.