Murder Under the Covered Bridge by Elizabeth Perona Page B

made him clean up that neck beard. He’s starting to look handsome, especially when he’s not wearing all the piercings.”
    Toby spotted the women and hailed them with a desperate look in his eyes. “I think you’d better help Grandma. We’re so backed up, the crowd is starting to get unruly and it’s not even lunchtime yet.”
    â€œI thought we’d decided we weren’t going to offer lunchtime food,” Francine said.
    â€œWe’re not, but that doesn’t seem to have had an effect. We may want to start sedating them with samples.”
    Charlotte looked doubtful. “That might only create more customers.”
    Francine yanked her away. “I don’t think he needs to hear that right now,” she said sotto voce.
    Joy snatched a corn fritter donut out of the display case. “We’ll get right on it,” she assured him. “I love these things,” she told Francine and Charlotte as she took a bite into it.
    They had to go around the long line to enter the truck, but before they got there they heard Marcy. She was standing in front of a tent parked behind Mary Ruth’s place. She had changed into the red and navy-blue uniform of an old-fashioned carnival barker and was calling out in a shrill, high pitched voice, “Get your fortune told by the Great Merlina! Want to know your future? The Great Merlina sees all!”
    Joy acted like she was not surprised by this and went in to help Mary Ruth, but Charlotte tugged on Francine’s arm and pulled her over. “This is your other client?” Charlotte asked Marcy.
    Marcy rolled her eyes. “I agreed to help my niece publicize her fortune-telling business.” Then, as if she realized how rolling her eyes had come off, she added, “Not that she’s not good. She’s really good! She has THE GIFT.”
    That sounded ominous , Francine thought. “How nice,” she said. “It looks like she’s got a line so she certainly doesn’t need us.”
    â€œSpeak for yourself,” Charlotte said. “I want to get my fortune told.” She winked at Marcy. “Can you get me a discounted price?”
    â€œUh, sure.”
    Francine cleared her throat. “Charlotte, I think Mary Ruth might need you more. We need to get going.”
    Charlotte jerked her hand back. “Not until after I get my fortune told. What price was that again, Marcy?”
    â€œFor you, ten dollars. The Great Merlina usually charges thirty for a fifteen-minute reading. Better get in line now or it’ll be noon before she can see you.” She gave Charlotte a nudge toward the line, now about five persons deep. “I’ll be there in a minute to see you get the discount rate. I need to talk to Francine.”
    Charlotte made her way to the end of the line. The shadow of the Great Merlina’s tent absorbed her.
    â€œNow that I’ve got you alone,” Marcy said, “are you looking for any more television appearances? You did a great job back there at the Roseville Bridge, and I think I could get you on a couple of—”
    Francine was mad. Last night they’d worked together in the big mansion’s kitchen getting food ready for today and she thought she’d been pretty clear about this. “No. I don’t want to be on television.”
    â€œOkay, radio, then. I could get you some radio spots.”
    â€œNo!”
    Marcy exaggerated a sigh, though Francine could tell she had anticipated her response. “Look what happened when I finally succeeded in getting Mary Ruth on Chopped. If she hadn’t gotten to the dessert round, she would never have created the corn fritter donut.”
    â€œShe still didn’t win.”
    â€œWinning is relative. Would you look at her line? Mark my words, when the folks at Food Network hear about this, they’ll come around to putting her back on the air.”
    â€œI wasn’t aware you were still