pointed. “There’s Mom and Dad.”
May and Jed were just taking their seats at the table. On one side of them were May’s sister, Minnie; Minnie’s husband, Emmett; and their twin daughters, Ginger and Gillian. Skye wasn’t surprised to see that the twins’ husbands weren’t with them. They were nearly always working, hunting, or fishing and rarely attended social events.
Vince and Skye said hi to all their relatives and sat down.
Skye’s assigned seat was next to her father. She leaned close to him and said, “It looks like a Leofanti family reunion around here.”
“Yep,” Jed confirmed.
May overheard her and nodded. “It sure does. My brother and his family are here, too.”
Suddenly the loudspeaker squealed to life and they all looked to the front of the room. A short, rotund, older man dressed in a red suit stood behind the podium gripping the microphone with one hand and running his fingers through thick white hair with the other. He had a full beard and a sizeable belly. What was Santa Claus doing in Scumble River?
He smiled and said, “Welcome. My name is Moss Gibson, and I have a dream.”
The crowd quieted. Skye narrowed her eyes. This guy didn’t look like Martin Luther King, and she’d bet his dream had nothing to do with peace and brotherhood.
Moss Gibson waited a beat before continuing. “I invited you all here today because you have the power to not only make my dream come true but also to share in the reward.”
Skye tensed. This was definitely some pyramid scheme. She leaned behind her parents and said to Vince in a low voice, “We need to get the family out of here ASAP.”
He grinned. “Let them enjoy the show. We won’t let them sign anything.”
Skye wasn’t as confident of their abilities to talk any one of their relatives out of something once they were mesmerized by a con man.
People were buzzing after Moss Gibson’s opening statements. He allowed the excitement to build, then said, “But before I tell you all about my dream, please help yourself to brunch.”
Before Gibson’s last word stopped echoing, chairs were pushed back and a line began to form at the food tables.
Gibson spoke above the hubbub. “And since I want all of my new friends to have a good time, the bar will stay open.”
A general cheer went up.
Owing to the clever way the buffet lines had been set up, waiting was minimal and everyone was quickly back at their tables and eating.
Emmett took a slug of his beer and said, “This guy’s slick. We need to be careful.”
Skye piped up, “Uncle Emmett’s right. Don’t sign anything today. Even if it looks good, run it by your lawyer first.”
Ginger leaned past her father and a wave of gin-breath washed over Skye. “Let’s keep an open mind. I don’t know why everyone is always so paranoid.”
“Being careful is not paranoia.” Now Skye was really worried. Neither twin was the quickest horse on the racetrack.
But from the expressions on the rest of the family’s faces, it was clear that they agreed with Skye and Emmett.
Ginger must have noticed, because her voice took on a cajoling tone. “Well, I don’t want to ruin the surprise, but let’s just say I’ve met Moss Gibson and what he has planned could really improve our lives.” She finished her drink and looked toward the bar. “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”
As soon as her cousin left, Skye caught Vince’s eye. He shrugged. They would just have to wait and see what was going on.
Skye got up, saying she was getting dessert. As she walked slowly toward the serving table, she overheard snatches of conversation.
The owner of the real estate agency was saying to the people around him, “Listen, I’ve talked to this guy. He’s going to revive Scumble River.”
A little farther down, Ace Cramer said to his dining companions, “Right now the economy stinks, but Gibson’s plan can bail us all out.”
Skye pursed her lips. What was Gibson’s plan? She put a few
May and Jed were just taking their seats at the table. On one side of them were May’s sister, Minnie; Minnie’s husband, Emmett; and their twin daughters, Ginger and Gillian. Skye wasn’t surprised to see that the twins’ husbands weren’t with them. They were nearly always working, hunting, or fishing and rarely attended social events.
Vince and Skye said hi to all their relatives and sat down.
Skye’s assigned seat was next to her father. She leaned close to him and said, “It looks like a Leofanti family reunion around here.”
“Yep,” Jed confirmed.
May overheard her and nodded. “It sure does. My brother and his family are here, too.”
Suddenly the loudspeaker squealed to life and they all looked to the front of the room. A short, rotund, older man dressed in a red suit stood behind the podium gripping the microphone with one hand and running his fingers through thick white hair with the other. He had a full beard and a sizeable belly. What was Santa Claus doing in Scumble River?
He smiled and said, “Welcome. My name is Moss Gibson, and I have a dream.”
The crowd quieted. Skye narrowed her eyes. This guy didn’t look like Martin Luther King, and she’d bet his dream had nothing to do with peace and brotherhood.
Moss Gibson waited a beat before continuing. “I invited you all here today because you have the power to not only make my dream come true but also to share in the reward.”
Skye tensed. This was definitely some pyramid scheme. She leaned behind her parents and said to Vince in a low voice, “We need to get the family out of here ASAP.”
He grinned. “Let them enjoy the show. We won’t let them sign anything.”
Skye wasn’t as confident of their abilities to talk any one of their relatives out of something once they were mesmerized by a con man.
People were buzzing after Moss Gibson’s opening statements. He allowed the excitement to build, then said, “But before I tell you all about my dream, please help yourself to brunch.”
Before Gibson’s last word stopped echoing, chairs were pushed back and a line began to form at the food tables.
Gibson spoke above the hubbub. “And since I want all of my new friends to have a good time, the bar will stay open.”
A general cheer went up.
Owing to the clever way the buffet lines had been set up, waiting was minimal and everyone was quickly back at their tables and eating.
Emmett took a slug of his beer and said, “This guy’s slick. We need to be careful.”
Skye piped up, “Uncle Emmett’s right. Don’t sign anything today. Even if it looks good, run it by your lawyer first.”
Ginger leaned past her father and a wave of gin-breath washed over Skye. “Let’s keep an open mind. I don’t know why everyone is always so paranoid.”
“Being careful is not paranoia.” Now Skye was really worried. Neither twin was the quickest horse on the racetrack.
But from the expressions on the rest of the family’s faces, it was clear that they agreed with Skye and Emmett.
Ginger must have noticed, because her voice took on a cajoling tone. “Well, I don’t want to ruin the surprise, but let’s just say I’ve met Moss Gibson and what he has planned could really improve our lives.” She finished her drink and looked toward the bar. “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”
As soon as her cousin left, Skye caught Vince’s eye. He shrugged. They would just have to wait and see what was going on.
Skye got up, saying she was getting dessert. As she walked slowly toward the serving table, she overheard snatches of conversation.
The owner of the real estate agency was saying to the people around him, “Listen, I’ve talked to this guy. He’s going to revive Scumble River.”
A little farther down, Ace Cramer said to his dining companions, “Right now the economy stinks, but Gibson’s plan can bail us all out.”
Skye pursed her lips. What was Gibson’s plan? She put a few
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