deep blow to all of us in the Festival family.â She pausedto collect herself. âHarrison Lee will be sworn in as Festival president. He will be taking over JimmyâsâI mean, Mr. Steptoeâsâduties immediately.â She stared, glassy-eyed, at some invisible point over our heads. I could tell she was fighting to keep her emotions under control, but her lower lip trembled.
Grace turned to me, looking as sick as I felt. It didnât seem possible. Jim Steptoeâjolly, lively Mr. Steptoe, king of corny puns and knock-knock jokesâhad been wandering around Luna Vistaâs Root Beer float just the day before, laughing his deep belly laugh as he joked around with Grace and me. âAh, Young and Yang,â heâd called out. âThe too-wise two Y s!â Heâd winked and slipped us each a piece of gum, even though he probably knew that, under the Floatatorship, gum chewing by anyone other than the Grand Pooh-Bear herself was an offense punishable by roughly eighty-two years of hard labor. Then heâd gone back to remembering the âgood old daysâ that heâd spent with Rodâs dad as middle-school float volunteers. They were still good friends. Or had been . A lump swelled in my throat.
It wasnât hard to see why the Festival hired Lauren Sparrow to train the Royal Court each yearâor why Harrison Lee had chosen her to deliver the bad news that day. As a CEO of a company, she was used to giving speeches. Her voicecracked occasionally, but she gave matter-of-fact replies to each questionâno matter how ridiculous they sounded. Kendra had discovered Mr. Steptoe lying hidden from view behind the fake logs stacked around the Girl Scout floatâs campfire feature. The morningâs pyrotechnics misfire was unrelated and âdid not affect the victim at any time.â From what they could tell, he had been struck in the head by the fake marshmallow in a giant animatronic, dancing sâmore that had swung down unexpectedly. A full police report would be made available when it was ready. Counselors were on-site if we needed to talk to anyone. We should contact our parents right away.
When Trent Spinner asked whether someone was more likely to be killed by a ginormous fake marshmallow or a velociraptor, Lauren Sparrow wisely wrapped up the Q&A and announced that all Festival activitiesâincluding the Royal Court announcementsâwould be on hold until further notice.
âIâm so sorry.â Ms. Sparrow blinked at us, her voice catching. âIf we do return to normal operations, I ask that you all be very careful. The floats are complicated, heavy machines with a lot of moving parts.â She looked pointedly at Ms. Lund and cleared her throat. âItâs important that you be properly supervised at all times. You never know whenan accident might occur.â
The gas flames flickered against the ceramic logs in the fireplace behind her. I shuddered and looked away. Maybe supervision could protect us from accidents, but what could protect us from a killer? Something told me the Winter Sun Festival was going to be more dangerous than anyone could have ever imagined.
Chapter Five
Suspicious Minds
T he mansion living room burst into a nervous buzz as soon as Ms. Sparrow left. Kids sprang for their cell phones. A few grabbed their uneaten bag lunches and headed for the door. Others huddled in corners with friends, as if they might be able to erase the terrible news by sticking together and hiding from it.
âThis is messed up,â Trista said once sheâd finally pushed her way through the maze of fancy antique furniture and upset volunteers. âMajorly messed up.â She fumbled in her cargo jacket pockets for her asthma inhaler and drew in a quick puff, then squinted at us. âYou two found out something, didnât you?â
âShh. Not here.â Graceâs eyes swept the crowd. Through the French doors I