33
Night had fallen as the parade began to line up. The tourism center was closed, so there was no touring the birthplace of Tennessee Williams. But some wiseacre down the street was bellowing “Stella! Stella!” as an homage to Williams’s brilliant Streetcar Named Desire.
“Where are our men?” Cece asked. She and Millie had found us with ease. The four of us were huddled in a clump at the head of the parade. It would take another thirty minutes for the line of floats, pickup trucks, marching bands, and the fire truck holding Santa and Mrs. Claus to organize into a line. At the very front was a convertible with Clarissa Olson, dressed as a sexy elf, standing in the back seat. She was ordering people around, per usual.
“Clarissa, you should rethink this,” I said. “Someone is out to kill you.”
“Piddle posh. Let them try.”
She was either stubborn or stupid or both, and I was tired. “Okay. We’ve been paid and you’ve been warned. Now it’s on you.”
“Sarah Booth!” Coleman was coming straight at me, along with Oscar, Jaytee, and Harold. Each man was holding a black cloth in his hand. “Come with us.”
Coleman didn’t give me a chance to refuse. He tied the black bandanna around my eyes and hustled me down the street. Behind me I could hear Tinkie, Millie, and Cece complaining about not being able to see.
We stopped, and Coleman removed the blindfold. I couldn’t believe what was in front of me. It was a float, a grand float covered in blinking lights, poinsettias, a big decorated Christmas tree, and four rocking chairs around a fake fireplace. It was the perfect Christmas scene with a big sign: THE ZINNIA QUEEN BEES DO CHRISTMAS RIGHT. Beside each chair was a huge box of beads, Christmas decorations, trinkets, and candy for us to toss.
“All aboard,” Oscar said as he handed Tinkie up onto the float. “Ladies, Merry Christmas!”
“This is what you’ve been doing all this week? Building a float?” Cece gave Jaytee a huge kiss right in front of everyone. People in the crowd applauded.
“There’s even a microphone for Cece to sing,” Jaytee said when he could talk. “I’ll be up there to play the harmonica for her.”
“Don’t let Sarah Booth near that microphone,” Coleman said as he swung me up onto the platform.
“Very funny.” I had no intention of singing anyway. I was already calculating that the float was the perfect vantage point to watch the crowd for any would-be archers. Clarissa in her convertible was only one marching band ahead of our float. I looked around the float at all the great decorating and hard work the men had done. It was phenomenal. I leaned down to whisper in Coleman’s ear. “Thank you. This is the best Christmas present ever.”
“Better than Ireland?”
“Different better. You do have a knack for giving great gifts.”
“Do I get a present tonight?” he asked wickedly.
“Santa will just have to see about that.” I kissed his cheek.
“Line up, line up. We’re starting to move.” The man organizing the parade came by with a bullhorn trying to get the unruly participants into shape.
Luckily the four Zinnia Queens were seated in the rockers when the float lurched forward, and then we were off. The men had gone to find a good location on the street to watch the parade. Their work was done! Now it was up to us to fling the trinkets and candy and celebrate the Christmas season.
We’d made it a half-dozen blocks when the band in front of us began to play “Rocking Around the Christmas Tree” and Clarissa stepped onto the back of the car to dance. She had exceptional balance. I had to give her that. And she was also dumber than a rock. She was a perfect target if anyone cared to shoot an arrow, or something more deadly, at her. With a shotgun, the assailant didn’t even need great aim.
Tinkie, Millie, and Cece were having a blast hurling prizes at the crowd, who seemed to really love our float. And when Jaytee stepped forward and began to blow the harmonica and Cece picked up the song, the crowd was riveted. A group of young people who knew the song followed behind, singing the chorus. It was wonderful and crazy and thrilling. I looked at my friends, and they were glowing with happiness. In each one, I could see the child that had always believed in Christmas miracles. This float and the parade and just the sheer insanity of the surprise our men had sprung on us made this a Christmas to remember.
Up ahead, the band switched to “Frosty the Snowman” and Clarissa was going to town shaking her booty. I tossed a handful of red and green necklaces to the crowd as I watched her gyrate. She did have a body to be proud of.
I saw her stumble at the same time I heard a scream in the crowd. Clarissa staggered on top of the car as the crowd hushed for a split second before it roared back to life and several people ran forward to catch Clarissa before she hit the pavement.
I couldn’t see what had happened and I hadn’t heard a shot. The parade ground to a halt, and Coleman and Officer Goode rushed to the car where Clarissa had been dancing. Coleman turned back to face me as sirens began to wail and the throng of Christmas celebrants dispersed in all directions.
“What happened?” I asked Coleman when he was close enough to hear me.
“Clarissa was shot.”
“Gunshot?”
He shook his head. “Arrow. Exactly like the one the other night. Not fatal, but she was hit in her gut.”
Up at the lead car, Tulla Tarbutton had rushed to help Clarissa. Too late I saw movement across from the car. A woman stepped out from behind a tree
