Free The Pumpkin Muffin Murder by Livia J. Washburn Page A

one of the volunteers stamped the back of his hand. “Look, Gran’mama!” he said as he held it up so that Phyllis could see. “It’s a duck!”
    Indeed it was. The rubber stamp was made in the shape of a duck, like the ones who made the little lake their home for much of the year. There were no ducks swimming around on the water or waddling along the banks today, though. Even if any of them had been flying over and considered stopping in their southward migration, the commotion in the park would have scared them off. A local band set up in front of one of the log cabins was playing country music, and the sounds of talk and laughter and happy shouts of children filled the air as well. Phyllis loved events like this. They were so full of life.
    “I can take those muffins now, Bobby,” she offered as they walked between two of the bales of hay with scarecrows propped up on them and started toward the other log cabin, where the cooking contest would take place in the covered dogtrot.
    “I got ’em,” he said proudly. “No problem.”
    Phyllis smiled. “All right.”
    Eve touched her shoulder and said, “I’ll see you later, Phyllis. I’m going to check out the craft displays.”
    “All right.”
    When they reached the cabin, Carolyn was sitting behind a table at the front of the dogtrot with the other four judges. At the back of the dogtrot, under the connecting roof, was one of the hay bales, with a scarecrow leaned against the wall of the cabin. The other judges were the editor of the local newspaper, the owner of an auto dealership who was also the president of the chamber of commerce, a professor from the junior college, and the retired but still much-beloved superintendent of schools, Dolly Williamson. Phyllis knew all of them fairly well, especially Dolly, and they all greeted her with smiles.
    “Whatever you’ve got there, Phyllis, I know it’ll be delicious,” Dolly said.
    “It always is,” the editor agreed. “You’re one of the best contestants we have in these things, Phyllis.” He glanced over at Carolyn. “No offense to my distinguished fellow judge.”
    “Oh, I’m not worried about that,” Carolyn said with a casual wave of her hand. “Phyllis is one of the best bakers I’ve ever seen, no doubt about it.”
    “You can flatter me all you want,” Phyllis said, “but all that counts is right here.” She motioned for Bobby to put the containers of muffins on the table.
    The professor was handling the contest paperwork. “We’ll get these logged in for you, Phyllis.”
    “Thanks.” Phyllis put her hand on Bobby’s shoulder. “Now, I think I know someone who wants to see what else the festival has to offer.”
    “Yeah!” he said as he looked up at her.
    They turned to walk around the rest of the park, but Phyllis stopped short when she saw Dana Powell standing there with a frightened look on her face and tears shining in her eyes.

Chapter 10

    “D ana, what’s wrong?” Phyllis exclaimed. Then something occurred to her, and she went on. “Oh, no! Someone really did get hold of your keys and broke into your house!”
    “What?” Dana said. “No. No, that’s not it. Have you seen Logan?” She looked past Phyllis at the judges seated at the table. “Have any of you seen Logan?”
    “Come to think of it, I haven’t,” the president of the chamber of commerce responded. “And I figured he’d be here bright and early this morning.”
    The other judges shook their heads, and Phyllis said, “I just got here, but I don’t recall seeing him on the way into the park.”
    Carolyn stood up and came around the table. “I’m sure he’s fine, Dana. He’s bound to be around here somewhere. What time did he leave home this morning?”
    “That’s just it.” Dana drew in a deep, shaky breath. “He didn’t leave home this morning. He never came home last night.”
    Phyllis and Carolyn exchanged a glance. Then Carolyn suggested, “Why don’t we go somewhere a little quieter