by Sonia Parin
“Did she have a bag with her on the boat?” Abby didn’t remember seeing one.
“No.”
That’s odd, Abby thought. If she knew she had an allergy, she would take precautions and carry an adrenaline shot everywhere she went. “So, are you saying this is a death by natural causes?”
Joshua didn’t answer straight away. He finished his coffee and when Joyce offered him another one, he nodded. “Yes, for the time being,” he finally said under his breath.
Abby slumped back on her chair. “Have the next of kin been notified?”
“She didn’t have any parents. We found a cousin and her husband. He’s making the funeral arrangements.”
“Wait, did you say husband?” Abby hadn’t found any mention of a husband. When had she married William Matthews?
“Yes. He’s a merchant banker.”
“William Matthews?”
“You must be the only person in town who knows his name,” Joshua remarked. “I spoke with Miranda’s neighbors and none of them ever met him.”
“I’ve been trawling the internet looking for information about Miranda,” she admitted. “There was mention of an engagement but nothing about a marriage.”
Joshua stirred some sugar into his coffee. “According to him, they’d set a date for twelve month’s time but Miranda then suggested they elope. Apparently they were arguing about all the details,” Joshua shrugged. “Venue, flowers, cakes, number of guests. It all got a bit too much so they opted for an easy solution.”
“How did you find out about him?”
“We have easy access to the births and deaths registry as well as the marriages registry.”
He’d sat on that information for a whole day…
Abby was about to tell him off for not sharing when his phone rang. Excusing himself, he left.
A bee sting, Abby mouthed. “Just as well I didn’t run that story about the extinction of bees. It would have been too macabre.”
After breakfast, they finally made their way to the Gazette. Abby and Faith worked in silence while Doyle used the opportunity to curl up on his doggie bed to enjoy a morning nap.
A few locals dropped by to confirm what they’d heard. No one made any further comments. As far as everyone was concerned, Miranda Hoppers had run into some serious bad luck.
Abby got busy writing a brief summary of events and a death announcement but hit a wall when she tried to find a positive spin for the article. With such a somber and delicate subject, she had to tread with care and not put people off the lake. She knew it would be a while before the incident receded into a distant memory, but the lake wouldn’t go away. Somehow, she had to find a way to cleanse it. Maybe not straight away…
She stretched her arms over her head and yawned. “There’s a downside to having such a hearty breakfast. It makes me sleepy. I want to curl up with Doyle.” She looked around the office. “Hey, why don’t we have a couch?”
Faith laughed. “Why? Because you’d probably spend the day curled up on it. I did an office management course online. Efficiency and productivity drops after lunch. People become sluggish.”
Only on a slow news day, Abby thought. “Businesses and stores in some European countries close their doors in the early afternoon for siesta time. It makes sense.”
Faith agreed. “That’s one civilized practice I wish would be adopted by everyone. If only it still meant finishing work at five, but I’m guessing you have to work until later.”
“Yeah, there’s always a catch.” Abby looked out the window and toward the pub. “At least I don’t have far to go to hit the hay.”
“Are you going to make the pub your permanent home?” Faith asked.
“I don’t see why not. The apartment is roomy and comfortable. The service is excellent. Doyle gets the royal treatment and the staff are super friendly.”
“It sounds like an ideal bachelor existence. Surely you want more,” Faith remarked.
“Maybe.” Abby leaned back in her office chair and swung from side to side. She still hadn’t shared the woeful experience she’d had with her ex and she preferred to keep it that way.
“What’s wrong? Why are you frowning?”
“Am I?” Abby ran her finger across her forehead.
“There’s a deep wedge between your eyebrows.”
Swinging around, Abby sat up. “Did Joshua sound odd when he said Miranda had died of a bee sting?”
Faith shrugged. “I didn’t notice. He’s always so hard to read.”
“Yes, Sebastian said he did the inscrutable look really well.” After his grandfather’s funeral, the new Eden Rise Gazette owner had returned to the city but had phoned at least once a week for updates. He’d actually offered her the keys to his grandfather’s cottage in town, but Abby had felt odd about accepting. She knew there were no strings attached, but it was still too soon after discovering a body there… Also, for the time being at least, she wanted to stay on at the pub. Abby thought it would give her an advantage to be so close to the hive of activity and gossip.
Abby surged to her feet. “Did Joshua actually say Miranda had died of natural causes?”
“Let me think.” Faith tapped a pen on her desk. “He said, for now. No, wait… For the time being, that’s what he said.”
Meaning what?
Faith lowered her voice. “There’s just cause for suspicion and he’s going to hold his cards close to his chest and try to flush out the bee responsible for stinging Miranda.”
Abby shook her head. “Bees actually die after stinging someone or something.”
“Really? That’s like having a booby-trapped revolver. You shoot someone and the revolver then explodes in your face.”
Abby strode to the window. “Also, while I’m sure everyone in the café heard him, he left it up to us to spread the word. Maybe you’re right. He’s suspicious and wants the perpetrator to make a false move.” If someone died from a bee sting, why would Joshua be suspicious?
“Then again, you might be reading too much into it,” Faith suggested.
“You’re right.”
Bee sting…
Something didn’t smell right about that.
Faith sat opposite Abby at what had become their regular table at the pub, right by the windows with a view of the mountains.
“I think Joyce might have been onto something when she said you were stress eating.”
“It’s lunch time,” Abby murmured. “Everyone stops for lunch.”
“Yes, but… you’ve been studying the menu for longer than you usually do. That means you’re going to order something other than a burgher.”
Abby bobbed her head from side to side. “I might want to try something new. Variety is the spice of life and I’m trying to avoid becoming predictable and falling into a rut.”
Doyle thumped his tail against her foot.
“I think Doyle agrees with me.”
“Okay. For a moment there I thought you might have been lost in thought and might be pursuing the possibility that there’s more to Miranda’s death.”
Abby picked up a breadstick and wagged it at Faith. “That would be asking for trouble.”
Faith ignored her and continued, “Either that or you’re answering the call of the inner reporter. You’ve been quiet because you’re entertaining a barrage of thoughts and you can sniff a scoop in the making.”
Admittedly, Abby had been playing around with a few thoughts but they refused to take full shape or make sense.
“Ready to order?” Mitch asked.
The co-owner of the Gloriana flipped open his order book and tapped his pen against it. His bright blue eyes smiled back at her. Since meeting him, Abby hadn’t seen any other look on Mitch Faydon, which boded well for all the customers coming to the pub. The same couldn’t be said for his brother Markus who rather enjoyed scowling. Abby knew there was a third brother, but she hadn’t met him yet because he was still away on a long vacation.
Abby sat back and gave Mitch a head to toe swe
ep. “Aren’t you going to ask?”
“If I do, will you give me a straight answer?”
Abby grinned. “Try me.”
“Is the bee sting story a cover up?” Mitch asked.
Abby looked at Faith. “See, it’s not just me.”
Faith laughed. “Are you actually admitting you’ve been thinking about it?”
Mitch looked around and lowered his voice. “What’s going on?”
Abby gestured for him to pull up a chair. “When Joshua told us about the medical examiner’s findings—”
“We call them coroners here,” Mitch said.
“M.E. Coroner. Same thing. They cut bodies up. Anyhow, Joshua’s general tone suggested he might not be convinced it was a death by natural causes.”
“So the bee didn’t do it?” Mitch asked.
“I believe there are suspicious circumstances.” Abby tapped her finger on the table. “Mark my word, the truth is out there.”
Mitch laughed. “I thought you were strictly a lifestyle reporter. What’s come over you?”
“It might be a case of wanting to check my facts. After all, it’s my by-line. My name is my reputation and once I print the report on the picnic incident, that’ll be it.” At the same time, she didn’t want to be responsible for causing civil unrest in the community. The locals had already been uneasy about the lack of information. What would happen if she suggested Miranda’s death needed to be investigated further?
“Forget I said anything.” Abby picked up the menu again. “I need to have something nourishing and filling but not too filling. What would you recommend?”
“Hannah can whip you up a quinoa and wild rice salad,” Mitch suggested.
“That sounds… healthy.”
“You can always have a steak with the lot.”
Abby patted her stomach. “I pigged out at breakfast so I need to take it down a notch for lunch.”
“Quinoa and rice salad it is then.” He turned to Faith. “The usual for you?”
“Yes, please.”
Abby leaned in. “What’s that?”
Faith grinned. “A burgher with the lot, of course.”
Abby threw her head back and groaned. “You’re going to eat that in front of me?”
“Moderation is the key to a full and healthy life,” Faith declared.
“Well, as the saying goes, breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince and dine like a pauper.” Abby looked over her shoulder but Mitch had already disappeared. “Darn it. I’m sure princes don’t eat quinoa and rice salad for lunch.”
Distracting herself with another breadstick, she wondered if she should have a test for bee stings. “How does one know?”
“Do you expect an answer or are you talking to yourself?” Faith asked.
“Do you know if you’re allergic to bee stings?”
Faith shook her head. “I have no idea.”
“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to know.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much about the humble bee,” Faith said. “We have more deadly critters than any other country in the world.”
Abby laughed. “You say that with so much pride, but I guess you’re right. I read about them on my flight over. Just as well I’m not really into swimming. The beaches here are too crowded for my liking. There’s stinging stonefish...”
Faith grinned. “Yeah, the pain of a sting from one of those can be lethal. It produces such mind-blowing agony that the body goes into shock and the person dies. Then there’s the pretty blue-ringed octopus. They’re quite small but they have one of the most toxic venoms on the planet and a bite causes paralysis within minutes. That leads to respiratory issues and then heart failure. I’m sure you’ll find more if you research it.”
Doing a search on her cell phone, Abby found an article listing seventy-two deadly creatures. They discussed each one with Faith providing a few stories about her close encounters with spiders.
“Redback spiders are everywhere. They’re only small but the red blotch on their backs is quite distinctive. You just have to be careful in the garden and sheds. And they’re not exclusive to the countryside.” Faith shook her head. “I once visited a cousin who’d moved to the city to study. There I was, waiting to cross a street, when I looked down and saw a redback waiting right alongside me.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“And yet it happened.”
“Okay. This is interesting.” Abby read through to the end of the article and gasped. “More deaths are caused by the European honey bee. This species doesn’t have a particularly potent venom, but the allergic reaction suffered by 1-2 per cent of the population coupled with the high incidence of bee stings make them second to snakes as the most deadly venomous animal in Australia.”
They both looked out the window.
“They’re out there,” Abby whispered. “I guess there’s no harm in making sure we’re not allergic.”
Faith nodded. “I’ll book us an appointment.”
Mitch approached and set their plates down.
Abby studied her wild rice salad. “This actually looks rather appetizing and colorful.” Mixed in with the wild rice, she could see red and green bell peppers, bright orange pumpkin, hard-boiled egg with happy looking yellow-orange yolks, spinach leaves and what looked like feta cheese. “Are these poppy seeds?”
“Black chia seeds and the white ones are the quinoa,” Mitch said. “It’s a super food. Eat up, it’s good for you.”
Faith took a bite of her burgher and gave a heavenly sigh.
Spooning a mouthful of her salad, Abby smiled. “Like the man said, it’s good for me.”
Mitch strode off saying, “But not as good as a burgher.”
Half an hour later, Abby couldn’t believe how full she felt. “I think I read something about chia seeds giving you a feeling of fullness. Maybe I should sprinkle some on all my meals.”
Faith chortled. “It’s not as if you have weight issues.”
“Not yet,” Abby murmured. “I’ve been told it sneaks up on you.”
“So what’s on for the rest of the day?”
“I need to have my picnic clothes dry cleaned before they go back to the wardrobe department. Also, I think it would help if we walk around a bit and try to pick up on the general vibe. People must be talking. Who knows what we’ll hear…”
“There’s a slight tear on the blouse. Are you able to fix it?” Abby asked.
Jacinta Smith, the owner of Pristine Dry Cleaners, hummed as she examined the delicate fabric. “I couldn’t get anyone to cover for me so I didn’t get to go to the picnic but I heard there was quite a commotion.” Jacinta looked up and pushed her glasses back. “Yes, this shouldn’t be a problem. We have several items requiring mending.”
Abby felt slightly less guilty. She remembered hearing the tear when she’d bent down to free her shoe. “Who else damaged their clothes?”
“Kitty Belmont lost a button on her skirt,” Jacinta said. “That might be hard to replace. It was a mother of pearl button. They don’t make them like they used to.” She handed Abby a receipt. “It’ll be ready in two days.”
“Thank you.” As they strode away, Abby turned to Faith. “I remember seeing Kitty fiddling with her skirt. Doyle and I had been strolling around and…” Abby tapped her chin. “And then we saw the rowboat.” Abby stopped. “Hang on. I need to get this right. My mind is swimming with information. I started taking photos when we arrived. Then Doyle and I went for a walk. We encountered Kitty and Gordon. He waved me over and offered me a glass of champagne. That’s when I saw Kitty adjusting her skirt.” And somewhere in-between she’d noticed the boat out in the middle of the lake. At the time, she hadn’t seen anyone on it.
“What?”
“I’m trying to remember something about the rowboat I saw. I think that’s when I noticed it out in the middle of the lake.” Had the current pushed it toward the shore? Was there a current on the lake? There had to be…
She looked down a
t Doyle and remembered she had booked him in for his bath. Laughing to herself, she imagined Doyle rolling his eyes at her and huffing. Of all the things to remember…
“I’d like to know what Kitty did to lose the button on her skirt.” Did she bend over to maybe haul something heavy? “We’ll have to go to the lake and have a look around. Let’s swing by the Gazette and grab the camera.”
“What if the police taped off the area?” Faith asked. “They tend to do that. At least, they do on the crime shows I’ve watched.”
“We’ll tackle that hurdle when we get to it.”
Chapter Seven
“That’s the fourth person we’ve heard talking about bees,” Faith said as they turned a corner and headed back to the Gazette.
“It might be a good idea to run an article about the possible extinction of bees after all.”
Faith’s eyebrows shot up. “You think people will find that comforting?”
“I guess not,” Abby said. “Without bees, we’d have no cross-pollination. They’re such productive little creatures, I hate to see them being put under such a negative spotlight.”
When Abby strode past the Gazette, Faith tugged her arm. “I thought we were going back to grab the camera.”
Abby pressed her finger to her lips and then mouthed the word ‘bath’. “Oh, I need to pop in next door.” She pointed toward the vet’s office. “I shouldn’t be long.” Abby got as far as the front door when Doyle pulled back on his leash.
Faith laughed. “He’s so smart.”
“It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy being clean. A couple of weeks ago, Katherine used a new shampoo and Doyle didn’t like the perfume. He spent an hour rolling around the rug. He’d then top and smell himself and go right back to rolling around.” Abby bent down and picked him up. “Katherine likes to pamper you, Doyle. Do you want me to hurt her feelings and tell her to use a more manly shampoo?” When Doyle quivered Abby hugged him against her. “You’re such a baby. Anyone would think you’re afraid… or cold…” Abby looked up and frowned. “Hey, wait a minute.”
“What?”
