Apple of My Eye (Tiger's Eye Mystery #7) - Alyssa Day Page 0,61

off on her.

"This is not Christmas, Aunt Ruby. I am not Santa Claus. I am an unhappy person dressed up like a cabbage. No children will be harmed by seeing my real head."

"Tess." She tapped her foot, and I sighed.

"Fine."

I put on the head.

"Thank you, dear."

Aunt Ruby bustled off toward the jams booth, but I started to trudge over to the spot in front of Dead End Hardware where the parade floats—if you could call them that—were lining up.

The definition of "float" in a small town is very flexible.

The Peterson brothers always drove riding lawn mowers. A few people rode horses. Wolf Construction drove one of their bulldozers. John Luke Arnold had even walked an alligator on a leash right down Main Street one year.

That had been epic.

On the way there, I passed a lot of people I knew, but I didn't have to stop to talk, because nobody knew the giant green fungus tree was me in disguise. I saw Yasmine at her Tarot booth and waved and she waved back, because she probably knew who I was.

It was a magic thing.

Granny Josephine and Sue-Ellen Bishop were chatting by the lemonade tent, and Mr. and Mrs. Frost were talking to Mr. and Mrs. Quindlen in line for the Tilt-a-Whirl, which seemed like a bad idea to me, but they only had a YOU MUST BE THIS TALL sign up, not a YOU MUST BE THIS AGE sign. I hoped they didn't tilt and whirl their old bones too much.

I passed the funnel cake place and paused to inhale all the delicious, deep-fried goodness, but then I kept walking, right past the start of the parade line and on back toward the end. Hopefully everybody would go home before it was my turn to take a bow.

"If I bow at all, my head will probably fall off," I muttered glumly to myself and then flinched at the muffled, echo-chamber effect.

Great. I probably sounded like a dying tree, too.

At the end of the line, Rooster Jenkins was standing patiently, waiting with one of his many goats tied to a string. He'd cornered Mellie's cousin Vern, who looked like he'd been trying to get away for a while.

They both gave me wide-eyed stares when I walked by and then turned back to their conversation, because they didn't know who I was.

"I really need to get going, Rooster," Vern said. "I—"

Rooster nodded. "Sure, I just wanted to tell you that I was sorry. I heard about Ann Feeney. You two used to be an item, didn't you? I remember you brought her out to go fishing that one time."

Vern's head whipped around and he aimed a cold stare at Rooster. "No, you're mistaken. That was my friend Brenda Sweeney. You should be careful what you say when you don't know what you're talking about, old man."

With that, he turned and strode off so fast he was almost running, leaving both of us staring.

"Well, that was rude," I said.

"Yes, it was, Swamp Cabbage," Rooster rumbled. "That's not like him, is it?"

I shook my leaf.

No.

No, it was not.

Jack darted out from behind the bulldozer and headed toward me, making an odd face when he passed Vern on the way.

"Nice!" he said when he reached us. "You're the best swamp cabbage I've ever seen."

"Jack," I said slowly. "Why did you make that face when you walked past Mellie's cousin Vern?"

He shrugged and glanced over his shoulder. "Was that who it was? He smelled like he'd taken a bath in peppermint oil. The scent makes me gag."

Rooster stepped over to us. He was nearly seven feet tall and almost as broad as he was tall, so it took a minute. "Nah. He was eating those little candy cane candies two at a time."

Jack's real eyes met my googly eyes, or at least I think so, because my actual eyes were hidden behind a mesh panel in the cabbage's clown mouth.

"Peppermint," I said. "And Rooster says Vern was dating Ann Feeney."

"Yep. Saw 'em going fishing," Rooster confirmed.

"And he lied at the bakery and said he didn't know her," I continued, thinking hard.

"We need to call Susan," Jack said, pulling out his phone.

I nodded my leaf and then waved my stalks around. "Oh, no. Jack. The jelly donuts."

Jack and Rooster both looked at me. "What?"

"He said Mellie told him to especially be sure to bring me jelly donuts. Jack, Mellie knows I hate jelly donuts. It's like a running joke with us. What if she was trying to send