“I’m not usually a big matcha fan, but it turned out great,” I admit. “The base recipe is my mom’s, and Nadine added the matcha. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“Thank you for donating it for the event,” Gideon says. “We’ll be sure to let people know that it came from your tea shop.”
The mayor looks somewhat casual today in tan trousers, a white button-up he’s rolled up to his elbows, and jaunty suspenders that would look out-of-place anywhere but in Moss Hollow. He’s about forty years old and very handsome. The family resemblance between Ash and him is strong.
“Thank you,” I say, and then I get down to business. “You guys don’t happen to know where I might find Ash, do you?”
Anna stacks paper bowls on one of the counters. They’re red, white, and blue, festive for the kickoff of the town’s week-long Independence Day celebration. “The last time we saw him, he was off to argue with Perry.”
“Uh oh,” I say, glad it’s him and not me. Ryder’s adoptive father, the brownie who owns the cafe, has a reputation for being easily offended and fond of drama. “What happened?”
“He’s trying to sell gelato,” Gideon says, “even though we reminded everyone that we’d be in charge of the ice cream for the event.”
“Can’t he give you the gelato to distribute?”
“He can, and it would be great marketing for the cafe. But he doesn’t want to give it away, and we announced that all oftoday’s ice cream will be free. We don’t want people showing up, only making it as far as Perry’s stand, and leaving thinking we lied in our advertising.”
“Oh, look.” Anna’s attention moves behind me. “Ash is on his way back.”
The councilman joins us a few moments later. To Gideon, he says, “Perry tried to tell me gelato isn’t ice cream and is therefore outside the boundary of the rules we established.”
“Please tell me you didn’t let him get away with that,” Gideon groans.
“I did not. He’s carting the gelato back to the cafe and threatening to move to Miami.”
“What’s in Miami?” Anna laughs.
“Who knows?” Ash says, and then he turns to me. “Hello, Kit. Is your stand ready? We open the gates to the public in fifteen minutes.”
“We’re ready. But I need to talk to you. Do you have a minute?”
He glances toward the rest of the stands. “As long as it won’t take long.”
“It shouldn’t.”
Nodding, he leads me to a quiet corner by the rose garden, away from the main tent. “All right. What can I help you with?”
I tell him about the strange conversation with Theodosia, and then I shrug. “What do you think?”
He frowns, thoughtful. “I haven’t heard of the town having any other gnome issues.”
“The Eastwildens have been around a lot longer than we have,” I say. “Rowan said Mr. Eastwilden is over a hundred years old.”
Looking across the fairgrounds, Ash strokes his chin. “He is, yes.”
“Do you think there’s a chance he’s involved in all this?” I ask hesitantly, not wanting to jump to conclusions.
“I’m not sure. I would like to believe he’s above such behavior, but I wouldn’t put it past him.”
The thought of it makes me a little sick. The idea of someone purposely trying to get rid of me… Well, it doesn’t feel good.
“What do we do?”
“I’ll look into it, but for now…” He jerks his chin toward my stand.
“Right. Get to work.”
“Correct.”
