byThose of you familiar with Blossom City know that something untoward often happens during its celebrations.
Given the events on our small town’s June calendar, both Sergeant Courgette and I expected some degree of chaos, but the month also delivered threats, scandal, and, this being Blossom City, death.
In hindsight, as early as the second week of May, there were definite warnings Blossom City would see a spike in theatrics during June.
First, on a balmy Monday morning near mid-May, my niece Violet telephoned me. “Aunt Persie, I want to spend part of my semester break with you this summer.”
“Of course! Any time after the end of June.”
“No,” Violet said. “I was thinking of—isn’t there a music festival in June?”
A music festival. After a fashion, I suppose. If you ask me, Blossom Cit
