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microphone. She went to the front of the kitchen set, smiled up at the audience, and said into the microphone, “Hello, everyone!”
    That greeting quieted the crowd. Still smiling, the young woman went on, “Hi, I’m Bailey, Joye’s assistant, and I want to welcome all of you to our first live broadcast from the State Fair of Texas!”
    Whooping and clapping surged from the audience.
    â€œWe’re very glad to be here for the world’s biggest and best state fair!” Bailey continued, and that drew an even more enthusiastic response. Phyllis didn’t know if that “biggest” claim was true, and “best” was certainly a subjective judgment, but clearly the audience was in full agreement on both counts and that was really all that mattered right now.
    â€œThe show will be starting in a few minutes,” Bailey said, “and there are a few things you need to know. We don’t insist on absolute silence, but you’ll need to be quiet while the broadcast is going on, except when the applause signs are lit up.” She pointed to portable signs on both sides of the stage, out of view of the cameras. “I want you to understand, no matter what you might think, the purpose of those signs is
not
to order you to applaud. They’re just there to let you know that it’s all right to clap, that it won’t interfere with what we’re doing during the broadcast. But Joye wants me to make it clear that these are just general guidelines. If she or one of the guests says something, or if something happens that makes you want to applaud, you go right ahead, whether those signs are lit up or not.
You’re
the reason we’re all here, and the real purpose of this is for all of
you
to have
fun
!”
    She was good at warming up the crowd, Phyllis thought as more applause followed Bailey’s words, even though she had sort of contradicted herself about the applause signs. Phyllis took it to mean that the people involved with the show wanted the audience to be spontaneous, but they wanted it to be a controlled spontaneity.
    â€œNow, if you’ll just sit back, it’ll only be a few more minutes before we get started,” Bailey concluded. “And don’t forget to have a great time!”
    Smiling, she waved to the crowd as she moved back through the set and disappeared through the door at the rear. Reed Hayes followed her. The members of the crew stood around the set waiting, and the feeling of anticipation in the air grew stronger.
    Sam leaned over to her and whispered, “This is where somebody screams because they’ve just found a dead body backstage.”
    â€œYou hush!” Phyllis told him in an emphatic whisper. “Nothing of the sort is going to happen.”
    But she had to admit, that worrisome thought had crossed her mind, prompted by Carolyn’s comment earlier. Sometimes it really did seem like trouble followed her around. And not just run-of-the-mill trouble, either.
    Murder.
    From the Peach Festival to an elementary school carnival to Christmas and Thanksgiving celebrations, over the past few years Phyllis had been involved with enough murder cases to make her wonder if she was an out-and-out jinx. She had seen her friends accused of being killers, and once she had even wound up behind bars herself. It certainly hadn’t been the peaceful life she’d envisioned for herself when she retired. How was it possible that she’d been able to live for almost seven decades with very few encounters with crime, even of the most trivial sort, only to find herself stumbling over bodies and chasing murderers at her advanced age?
    She had no answer for that other than sheer happenstance, but there was no denying that the events of recent years had had an effect on her. She was more alert than ever for potential trouble, and she paid close attention to everything that went on around her. There was no telling when some