Page 65 of One Vote for Murder
I gritted my teeth. “Penelope has it in her head we can all be pals. I think she’s dreaming.”
“She’s loony.”
“She’s got her head in the clouds. I’m a nice guy, but I have my limits.”
His straw made a slurping sound. “Oops.”
“Oops indeed.”
He held up the bright yellow cup. “This was pretty good. Not too sweet.”
I laughed. “Is that right?”
“You want me to get you one? They’re free.” He gestured toward the tent behind him. “They only have one size.”
“Now, if I just had a shot of tequila, I could make a margarita.”
He lifted his brows. “Oh, there’s a margarita booth too.”
“How long have you been here? I get the feeling you could do a guided tour.”
“I haven’t been here that long, but Penelope ditched me the minute we got here. I had to explore on my own.” He hesitated. “They have a soft-pretzel tent too. I was thinking of getting one. Would you want one?”
I chuckled and put my arm around his shoulders. “What happened to my health-conscious boyfriend?”
He shrugged. “Maybe falling down that sinkhole knocked something loose in my head.”
I grimaced. “God. Don’t joke about that.”
“It’s either that or cry. I still can’t believe that really happened.”
“Me neither.” I rubbed his back.
He tossed his empty cup in the closest trash can. “Do you have to give a speech? I heard the other candidates were going to.”
Scowling, I said, “Penelope gave me no warning. Am I just supposed to come up with a speech off the top of my head?”
“Girdy was around here earlier. Maybe she could write it. She’s good with words.” As he spoke, he eyed the frozen-lemonade tent.
I laughed. “You want another one, don’t you? You’ve become a junk food junkie.”
“No.”
“I’ve never seen you drink a slushie before. It’s like watching a giraffe ride a bicycle.”
He lifted one shoulder. “It was the perfect blend of sweet and tart.”
I grinned. “I’m worried about you, Max.”
Ignoring me, he moved toward the tent. “I’ll get you one too. You’ll see how delicious they are.”
I watched him go, feeling lighthearted. He’d definitely cheered me up some. I glanced around, taking in the crowd, and I noticed Quinn and his daughter, Ivy, standing a few feet away. They seemed to be arguing. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Ivy’s cheeks were pink, and her eyes glittered with anger.
Councilman Glenn got down from the stage, and a confident-looking Liam James took his spot. Even with the microphone feeding back noisily, Liam looked poised. The cold breeze made his tanned cheeks ruddy, and it ruffled his silvery-blond hair.
He gave a charming smile. “How’s everybody doing today?”
Many people in the crowd clapped, but a few booed. I couldn’t deny the boos gave me satisfaction. Liam, however, seemed undaunted. He waved and pointed at the crowd, winking like a celebrity.
