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Perhaps money wasn 't the only thing making Elliot testy. She decided to backtrack onto safer terrain. "Thank you for listening to and considering my ideas."
    He dumped the contents of another pink packet into his coffee, but didn 't bother to stir it before taking a drink. The bagel was still untouched. "You're welcome. By the way, you'll have a chance to start your collection this evening. We're having all of the competitors come to the hall en masse to pick up the pies, now that they are no longer considered a component of a crime scene. We'll conduct a short meeting then." He stood. "I need to return to my bakery to consult with my wife about a suitable time. Someone from my staff will call you this afternoon to convey the finalized meeting information."
     
    *  *  *
     
    The town hall parking lot was packed with cars when Amy pulled in. The meeting called by the Maxsons wasn't due to start for twenty minutes, but plenty of people must have decided to arrive early. Even though the newspapers and television station had only reported that a body was found, the whole town had been buzzing, the rumor mills cranking out the correct assumption that Mandy Jo had been murdered. Twenty nine year old women generally didn't just drop dead and conveniently roll themselves under a table, out of the way. People were smart enough to figure that out.
    Amy squeezed into what appeared to be the last available parking space. Fitting a full load of groceries into the compact Mini Cooper she nicknamed Mimi was often frustrating, but parking the tiny car was a breeze even when the other vehicles were over the border lines on both sides. As she approached the hall she pulled a basket out of the tote bag slung over her shoulder. The wicker basket was lined with pink paisley fabric, so change wouldn 't fall through. She had written "Mandy Jo Pierce Memorial Fund" in fancy, swirling script on a piece of cardstock and tied the placard to the handle with white satin ribbon. Elliot may, or may not, be still considering renaming the contest, so she had decided to continue with the idea to get a memorial bench.
    Groups of people were congregated everywhere around the room when she entered the hall. The dividers that hung from tracks on the ceiling had been pushed back, turning the area into one, large room, but it was still packed. Since she had placed the number 51 under her pie, there should have been only 50 other people present at the meeting. There seemed to be at least twice that many people jostling for prime gossip tidbits. There was nothing like morbid curiosity to draw a crowd.
    The l inen covered tables full of pies were lined up along the back wall, barely visible through all of the people. A small, wooden podium sat near the industrial kitchen pass-through. Amy couldn't see either one of the Maxsons, but that didn't mean they weren't present. Finding people in a crowd was always a challenge for her. Her 12-year old nephew was already taller than she was. Locating someone in a throng of normal sized people was difficult, especially if she was in the thick of the mass of humanity. She worked her way toward the back of the hall, squeezing through small crevices of free space and eavesdropping. Speculation as to who hated Mandy Jo enough to kill her was the hot topic in the room. Stories about unpleasant encounters with the dead woman were also being discussed. Amy overheard several not so quiet whispers about the fact that she, of all people, had found the body. There were also a few sputters about Amy competing in the pie contest for the first time. Apparently the pie-baking contingent wasn't happy about her making an appearance in their contest.
    Many of the pies were already gone when she finally reached the tables. People may have taken their pies, but they wouldn't be quick to leave the hive of gossip buzzing in the town hall. Alicia Smolks ambushed Amy from behind, locking her in a bear hug. Luckily Amy hadn't been facing Alicia or her