Catching Fireflies. Sherryl Woods

“How about demonstrations? As long as we have that stage set up for the band, are we going to be able to keep it busy the rest of the day?”

      “The garden club’s talking about planting for fall color,” she said, consulting her papers. “I lined up a local chef for a cooking demonstration. That would be my mom, in case you were wondering.” She gave them a triumphant look. “And, ta-da, Ty says he and a couple of the other Braves players will come in to sign autographs for an hour in the morning and again in the afternoon.” She turned to Sarah. “Can you get the word out about that? Is there still time?”

      “Absolutely,” Sarah said eagerly.

      “This is going to be such a success!” Raylene enthused. “Laura, you’re amazing.”

      “Not me. You all have had these incredible ideas and pulled it together.”

      “Only because you encouraged us to think outside the box,” Sarah said. “Too bad we don’t have those margaritas, because this deserves a toast.”

      “Let’s save any toasting until after we’ve pulled this off on Saturday,” Laura cautioned, but even she couldn’t contain a grin. “I am so excited.”

      “Can I change the subject for a minute?” Annie asked. “I know we’re all figuratively jumping up and down now, but when we got here, Laura, you looked like you were a million miles away. Maybe it’s none of our business, but is everything okay? With you, I mean, not the festival?”

      Laura flushed guiltily. “Sorry, just a problem at school. I haven’t been able to keep it off my mind for long.”

      “Misty Dawson,” Annie said at once.

      Laura stared at her in shock. “What on earth have you heard?”

      “I just know Cal’s worried about her. He mentioned it when Ty and I were over there for dinner the other night.”

      “Is the whole town talking about this?” Laura asked worriedly.

      “For once, no,” Sarah said with confidence. “If they were, I’d have heard something from Grace Wharton. She’s the front line of my gossip patrol.”

      “Thank goodness it hasn’t spread to her, then,” Laura said.

      Sarah’s expression turned thoughtful. “Although, now that I think about it, she did mention she found it odd that Misty and Katie were in Wharton’s instead of at the football game on Friday night last week.”

      “But that’s it?” Laura pressed.

      Sarah nodded. “Grace was actually at the game herself. She only heard about it from the waitress who was giving her a rundown of who’d been in earlier in the evening. Otherwise, if Grace had been there, she’d have a whole lot more information. I don’t think the woman intentionally eavesdrops, but I swear she could hear a pin drop in the next county.”

      “Which makes Wharton’s the very worst place ever to tell anyone a secret or do anything you don’t want the whole town to know about,” Annie concluded. “She’s observant, too. I swear Grace knew before anyone when I was struggling with anorexia as a teenager. She picked up on the way I’d just push food around on my plate.”

      “She spotted the same thing with Carrie,” Raylene said. “Carter and I are both grateful that she noticed.”

      Laura listened to them in amazement. “I’m afraid I’d just dismissed her as a bit of a busybody.”

      “Oh, she is that,” Sarah said with a laugh, “but she is a very well-meaning one and I, for one, love her to pieces.”

      “For all our grumbling, all of us do,” Annie said. “Wharton’s is the heart and soul of this town in a lot of ways, and Grace has made it that way for a couple of generations now.”

      “Thanks for the perspective,” Laura said sincerely. She was also grateful that the talk of Grace had managed to steer the conversation away from Misty. As much as she would love input from these women, she wasn’t comfortable with drawing even more people into the middle of what could turn into an explosive situation, if her increasingly strong hunch that Annabelle Litchfield was somehow involved proved to be correct.

      * * *

      J.C. usually avoided participating in town events other than the high school games. Though he liked what things like fall festival said about Serenity’s town spirit and sense of community, he preferred to keep his volunteer efforts for some of the sports leagues that Cal Maddox, Ronnie Sullivan and others had organized.

      This year, though, Ronnie Sullivan had leaned on him to get involved. “My daughter Annie is on the committee. I’ve promised her I’ll be there to help with vendor registration and setup. I need more muscle.”

      J.C. regarded him warily. “This isn’t one of those things that will lead to an even bigger role next year, right?”

      Ronnie had merely grinned. “You never know. It’s entirely possible you’ll have such a good time, you’ll be eager to do more.”

      “Doubtful,” J.C. had said at the time.

      But when he arrived at the football field at dawn and spotted Laura Reed running around with her hair mussed, a clipboard in hand and a frantic expression, he realized that Ronnie had definitely had a hidden agenda. He turned to the traitor. “So, does Laura have anything to do with your sudden determination to get me involved in town activities?”

      Ronnie actually managed to pull off an innocent look. “No idea what you mean,” he said. “I thought you two had a thing going. I figured you’d be hanging around all day, anyway. I thought I might as well take advantage of that and put you to work.”