Utter silence. As I stood up again, I glanced around to see that all up and down the tent, people were staring at us with their mouths wide open and their hands protecting their ears.
“What did you have to do that for?” Genette was actually pouting.
“I’m afraid I agree that your music is in violation of the wine pavilion rules,” I said.
“And the county’s noise ordinances,” called a nearby winemaker.
“I want to challenge everyone’s conservative perceptions about wine.” It might have sounded plausible if she hadn’t said it in the whiny voice of a thwarted toddler—a tone that was becoming all too familiar to me lately. “I want people to stop thinking of wine as something that only staid, middle-aged, affluent people can buy.”
A well-dressed middle-aged woman who was in the process of buying several cases of wine at the next booth turned and glared at her briefly.
“That’s the whole idea behind my brand identity.” She indicated her booth with a sweeping gesture. “I hired an expensive, cutting-edge New York brand management firm to design it, because I wanted something edgy and urban and new! Not all this medieval Jefferson crap.” This time she waved vaguely at the rest of the tent. If looks could kill, Mother would already have felled her from across the aisle. “You need to bring wine into the twenty-first century!”
“We’ll certainly take your suggestions under advisement,” I said. “For next year. But we have neither the time nor the money to change the decor for this year’s fair. So we’d appreciate it if you’d try to work within this year’s guidelines.”
“So what am I supposed to do with the forty-thousand-dollar sound system I had made for my booth?” She pointed to the hulking speakers, now silent but still radiating potential menace.
“They make … interesting occasional tables,” I said. “But do keep them clear of the aisles—we wouldn’t want anyone to damage them.”
With that I went back to where Mother and Dorcas were waiting.
“That woman,” Mother said, shaking her head.
“If anyone kills her, I expect an alibi,” I said.
“If anyone’s planning to kill her, tell them to come see me,” Dorcas said. “I want to get in on it.”
I glanced back at Genette. She was tugging one of her hideous speakers back behind the booth line, glaring my way as she did. I’d probably made an enemy just now.
I didn’t much care.
“Let me know if she causes any trouble,” I said.
“I think I can handle any trouble she causes.” Mother sniffed slightly.
“Yes, but I can’t ban anyone from the fair for misbehavior unless someone tells me about the misbehavior,” I said. “So I want to hear chapter and verse.”
“Absolutely,” Mother said.
I strolled out of the wine pavilion feeling confident that at least one part of the fair was under control.
As I stepped out and looked around, I heard someone call my name. I turned to see a man following me out of the tent.
“Can I help you, Mr.—” I glanced through the tent opening at the booth I thought he’d emerged from. Stapleton Wineries. “Stapleton?”
He didn’t correct me. He glanced furtively in several directions, and then took a step closer.
“It’s about Genette,” he said, in a voice calculated not to carry very far. “You need to keep an eye on her. She’s sneaky.”
“I will,” I said. “Both eyes, and both ears. But don’t worry. I think if she turns on the stereo again, someone will notice, and we’ll have grounds to confiscate it. And maybe even kick her out.”
“I don’t mean the stereo.” He waved one hand dismissively. “Though I have to admit, even if I were a Glass fan, that would be annoying.”
“Glass fan?”
“Philip Glass,” he said. “The composer of that music she was trying to destroy your eardrums with. Not my favorite of his compositions, actually. The wife and I have been known to blast that piece out the window on Halloween, to set the mood. No, I mean the pranks.”
“Pranks?”
“The chicken thefts. The pumpkin. The quilt. She’s behind it all.”
“If you have evidence of this—” I began.
“I don’t have any evidence, but it stands to reason. She was after the chickens.”
“Seems to me she could afford to buy a few chickens,” I pointed out.
“She could afford to buy anything she wants,” he said. “But what if someone won’t sell to her? What if she doubles the price a couple of times and an animal’s owner just keeps saying no? It happened to me.”