Honeybee Cozy Mysteries Box Set

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Honeybee Cozy Mysteries Box Set Page 11

by Katherine Hayton


  Again, the children laughed, and Alice’s mind flicked back to the day before. Sally had been like the wasp, while she was like the honey bee, just trying to sort out her business.

  “Now, my talk today is all about bees, but feel free to ask me any questions if there’s something further you want to know.” Alice shifted on the chair, about to start the recitation from memory, when a hand shot straight up. Lucky she’d abandoned her plan, then. “Yes?”

  “You said honey bees are collecting stuff to feed their hive. Does that mean, when you collect honey from them, they all starve?”

  “That’s a good question.” Alice put her hands down on the chair and gripped it tightly, like she was in a boat upon the waves. “Bees work very hard to collect pollen and nectar to take back to the hive. Then, they turn it into honey and store it in wax so the colony has enough food to see it through the long winters. However, they’re very hard workers, so there’s always far more honey produced than they need. I only ever take the extra honey they make and leave enough for them to eat as much as they want.”

  “What if you take their honey and then they can’t make any more?”

  “I keep an eye on the hives and if production goes down, I top them up with some sugar syrup. That happens sometimes if it rains before they can collect pollen, or if we get strong winds that blow all the flowers away before they get ahold of enough nectar.”

  Another hand shot up, and Alice mentally waved bye-bye to her prepared speech. “Yes?”

  “My dad said bees are the only reason we have fruit. Is that true?”

  “It is, and it isn’t,” Alice said, rocking back and forth gently as she warmed to the subject. “Bees pollinate the flowers so they produce fruit because they carry the pollen in their leg sacks. When they travel from one tree or bush to another, some of that rubs off on the new plant, and that tells the flowers to produce fruit. But other trees don’t need that. They can produce fruit all on their own.”

  “How do the bees tell the difference?”

  “They don’t. The pollination happens as a by-product of them going about their usual business.” Alice sat back and tried to think of an equivalent in human terms, but couldn’t. People just weren’t as helpful to the environment as bees, but then again, nothing was.

  “The trees requiring pollination have adapted to grow flowers more rewarding to bees,” she explained. “So the bees flock to those plants more than the others.”

  Another hand. Another question. “What do you mean, ‘rewarding to bees?’”

  “The flowers are easier to get nectar and pollen from or have it in greater quantities. It’s like the difference between going to a fast-food restaurant instead of cooking up your own meal. They both feed you but one is quick and easy and perfect for a hard worker with a lot to fit in their day. Time is honey.”

  Alice’s nerves had dissipated and she settled into the routine of answering questions until she lost track of the time. When the principal tapped his watch, she gave a start. “Goodness. It seems my time is up, but thank you all for your questions. It’s been wonderful.”

  The children thanked Alice in return, then filed out of the assembly. As they passed by the door, a teacher handed each child a small collection of raffle tickets. While Alex Dunbar was in quiet discussions by the door, Alice overheard a teacher complaining behind her. “Another raffle, for goodness’ sake, and this on top of the auditors combing through the books. Why doesn’t he just beg the ministry for more money?”

  “An auditor?” Alice turned at the shock in the woman’s voice, seeing a redhead with tight ginger curls chewing at her lip.

  The man next to her seemed unperturbed, continuing on his tirade without seeming to realize the woman beside him was upset. “It’s ridiculous. We’ve got enough to do, teaching the children and making up the lessons without checking in every day to make sure they’re selling tickets.”

  “Why on earth does he feel the need to get in an auditor?” the woman asked, tugging on the man’s sleeve.

  He shook her off with a frown of annoyance. “How would I know? Because the books don’t balance? Why else would he do it? He’s only been here a year, and already the school has gone to pot.”

  Then a child near the door fell over, and the man sprang into action, running to the girl’s side and commiserating with her over what might turn into a spectacular bruise.

  Alice filed out behind the children, wondering if raffles were just annoying ventures in and of themselves, and that was why Sally had been so disagreeable the day before. She should check with Doug when she got home. He’d know and, best of all, he wouldn’t make her feel silly for asking.

  Chapter Four

  Alice helped Sally pull a fresh tray of biscuits out of the oven. The scent of baking honey and spice filled the small kitchen of the cafe, overwhelming all the other delicious smells already crammed into the space.

  “I think it went really well,” she repeated, her first comment having been lost in the ding of the oven timer. “The children seemed really interested and Alex asked if he could call me later to arrange another session.” She smiled at the memory. “He said since I’d survived the first unscathed, everyone would be happy to see me back again.”

  “That’s great,” Sally said curtly, pushing some strands of hair out of her eyes with the back of her hand.

  Alice frowned, then looked down at her fingers, tapping wildly in a gesture of self-comfort. Something was still very wrong with her friend. Instead of a smile, she currently wore a harried expression and everything Alice said seemed to strike the wrong chord.

  “Do you want me to clear some tables?” she asked, peering through into the main room of the cafe. Only three of them were occupied, but the regular waitress was nowhere to be seen and the other tables needed to be bussed.

  “I’ll get to them. Harriet’s just gone down the road to fetch some milk, we’ve run low. The delivery this morning didn’t come in.”

  “What?” Alice’s general sense of unease spiked into panic. “Why wouldn’t they deliver? There isn’t a strike, is there?”

  Many years before, there’d been a strike on deliveries from their wholesale grocery supplier while a company battled out a staffing dispute. It had been sorted in a day, but the fallout from the industrial action left a large stain on Alice’s memory. Back then, her mind had been far more rigid, and the obliteration of her plans drove her close to a meltdown.

  “I didn’t get the order in on time,” Sally grumbled. “It happens. I’m sorting it.”

  To Alice, the unkempt tables didn’t look like Sally was sorting it out, but she kept her mouth shut. If good news was greeted with curtness, a criticism might invite open hostility.

  Once again, her friend’s appearance was unkempt, and her breath smelled funny. Sharp with a sour tang. It reminded Alice of wine, but she knew Sally didn’t touch alcohol so that must be wrong.

  “If I can’t help out here, I might head on home, then,” Alice suggested, and for the first time, Sally seemed happy.

  “See you tomorrow,” Sally said with a wave, picking up a bag stuffed full of royal icing. Then, just as Alice reached the door, her friend popped into the cafe to call out, “Where’s the tray from the honey?”

  Alice looked back, puzzled for a moment before the penny dropped. “It’s still at the school. I’ll drop by tomorrow and pick it up.”

  “No, don’t worry.” Sally’s face clouded over and she shook her head. “I’ll go out there again on my afternoon break and get it. Don’t you lift a finger.”

  She walked back through to the back room, hitting one hip against the side of a table hard enough to jolt it an inch across the floor. Alice blushed as the few patrons in the cafe stared at her with open interest. She backed out, the heat in her cheeks quite the opposite of the cold chill invading her heart.

  What on earth have I done wrong?

  Halfway to home, Alice thought about dropping by Tashmore Primary and collecting the tray, a
nyway. She was closer to the school than Sally, and all the chores sitting at home could wait.

  Then she thought of the possibility of crossing paths with Sally, so they both made the journey, but her friend might arrive to be told the job was already done. Alice would’ve dismissed the thought as silly on another day, but right now, it seemed possible the action might initiate a complete breakdown in their relationship.

  Miserable and with her stomach twisting into knots, Alice stuck to the road home and arrived there a few minutes later. When she lay down on the porch next to Chester to give him a hug, she couldn’t tell if she was offering the dog comfort, or selfishly taking it for herself.

  “People get in bad moods from time to time, and you just have to let it run its course.” Doug raised his snips up into the tree and checked Alice was clear before clipping off the branch. “You’re just noticing it more with Sally because she’s usually so cheerful and you’re so close.”

  Doug always knew exactly the right thing to say, both to cheer Alice up and to explain the world around her. Of course, people could get into bad moods, it happened all the time. If Sally felt off color for a couple of days, she was perfectly entitled. Goodness knows Alice had spent enough days sulking about the place as gruff as a Gila monster. Sally had weathered those moods and now it was Alice’s turn.

  “I still feel like I should contact her and apologize,” Alice said, wringing her hands together.

  “Just let it alone,” Doug responded. “How about you try to start out of each other’s way for the rest of the week? It’d have to be a shocking mood for it to outlast the weekend.”

  From Alice’s view so far, Sally’s emotional state definitely qualified as shocking. Staying out of her friend’s way did feel like the natural thing to do—perhaps that was why Alice questioned it again.

  “Are you sure? Usually, when I want to stay away from people, that’s when I need to get out and amongst them the most.”

  “But what applies for you, doesn’t necessarily follow for everyone else.” Doug checked behind him, then carefully made his way down the ladder. “If you spin too far inside yourself, we might never get you out. It’s not the same as Sally snapping at people for a few days.”

  “I’m so lucky you applied for the job as the gardener.” Alice stood back and hugged herself briefly as Doug folded up the ladder, ready to cart away. “If I didn’t have you to explain Sally—” she broke off and he laughed.

  “And Sally to explain Doug,” he finished for her, prompting a smile.

  “I don’t know how people cope with just one friend when they need another to explain everything the first is doing,” Alice agreed.

  “Speaking of friends—” Doug jerked his head toward the porch “—how’s our old mate Chester doing.”

  “He’s lazing away his days, just fine.” Alice fell into step beside Doug as he walked back to his truck. “I guess I’ll find out if it’s good or bad news, tomorrow.”

  “I’ll have my fingers crossed for the surgery.” Doug packed in his ladder, his clippers, and unwound the heavy belt full of tools from around his waist to toss into the back of the truck. “I’m up at the department of conservation cabins tomorrow, doing some tidying, so I won’t be back until late. Feel free to text me with any news though. You know I’ll be thinking of you both.”

  Alice nodded. She remembered Doug telling her about the job and had just about given up hope it would be canceled or postponed. Just about. “I’ll be out and about, trying to keep myself busy.” Or, sitting in the vet’s office the whole time, winding myself up.

  “Best of luck, Chester,” Doug called out and the old dog thumped his stubby tail on the porch. It was the most Alice had seen him move voluntarily all week. “I hope you enjoy the drugs when they put you under anesthesia.”

  “Just what I always wanted, a dog looking forward to drugs.”

  Doug laughed and gave her a wave goodbye, reversing quickly up the drive and honking as he turned and headed for home.

  Alice clapped her hands together and turned to Chester. “What do you feel like for your meal tonight? You can have anything, I promise.”

  Luckily, Chester indicated he wanted soft dog roll and since that was exactly what Alice had on hand, that was what he got.

  While the clock on the wall of the vet seemed to crawl backward, Alice sat in one of the waiting room chairs and sniffed her fingers. They smelled of Chester. She’d deliberately dug her fingers deep into the dog’s coat before the vet whisked him away, so she could keep the scent of him with her.

  The phone beeped in her pocket, and Alice pulled it out, expecting to see a message of support from Doug. Instead, there was a quick note from Sally.

  “Can you come down to Tashmore Primary School? I’m in a spot of bother.”

  Alice stared at it, her brow furrowing into deep wrinkles as she tried to work out what was going on. She felt reluctant to head on down there, considering Sally’s attitude at the school the other day. On the other hand, it wasn’t often her friend asked her for anything. To refuse to attend was unthinkable.

  “I’m just popping out for a few minutes,” Alice told the receptionist. “Do you have my number if you need to get in contact?”

  The woman gave a kind smile, not bothering to remind Alice she’d already checked it with her twice. She recited the mobile number back to her, and added, “It’ll probably be at least another hour before there’s any news.”

  She’d probably be back in the waiting room by then!

  Alice thanked her and headed out the door, tapping the back of her hand in a rapid pattern, the stimming barely working on her emotional state at all. When she got behind the wheel, she took a few deep breaths, fighting for calm. The last thing anybody needed was Alice splattered over the highway.

  It was a ten-minute drive from the vet’s office to the primary school, but it took at least that long again for Alice to find a parking spot nearby. The road outside was full of vehicles, and it gave her pause when she recognized the black-and-white pattern of a police car amongst them.

  What did Sally do?

  With stern warnings to herself not to be silly, Alice jogged back to the school and made her way toward the principal’s office. She replied to Sally’s text—“I’m here at the school. Where are you?”—then stood aside, behind a crowd of people clustered in a loose group outside the building.

  “What’s happened?” Alice asked the redheaded woman she recognized from her talk the day before. “My friend told me to come down here, but I can’t see her.”

  The woman turned and nodded with recognition. “You’re the bee lady, right?” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Trish Clarkson. There’s been a horrible accident involving the principal.”

  Alice shook the offered hand quickly, then wiped off the sensation of touch surreptitiously on her jeans. “Alex Dunbar? Is he hurt?”

  “He’s dead,” Trish said, then gulped a few quick breaths. For the first time, Alice noticed the woman’s eyes were red-lidded and her cheeks were flushed. “A visitor found him this morning. He’s been murdered!”

  Chapter Five

  “Murdered?” Alice stared at Trish in horror, her mouth dropping open with shock. She looked back down at her phone where the text she’d sent was still awaiting a reply.

  Her thoughts wouldn’t form themselves into a reasonable order. Sally was in trouble at the school, and the principal had been murdered, but surely they didn’t join together in any way. She took a step back, fighting for control, as the wild ideas congregated.

  “Miss Townsend?”

  Alice turned back toward the building entrance at the sound of her name and saw a familiar figure standing there. Detective Sergeant Phillip Hogarth. She put a hand to her throat as her pulse jumped in her neck.

  He waved the crowd of people back, and Alice walked up the steps toward him, feeling the weight of dread push down on her shoulders as she did so. When she reached the top stair, two officers stood on either side
of the door through to the principal’s office. Alice’s eyes took a snapshot of Alex Dunbar lying prostrate on the floor, then the Sergeant indicated for her to move farther down the hall.

  “We’re holding your friend down here,” he said, slipping ahead of Alice to hold the next door open for her. “I imagine she’ll be pleased to see you.”

  “Sally?” Alice hesitated at the threshold, unsure of whether she should go any further. “Are you okay?”

  Her friend looked up, eyes swollen and red from crying and her nose flushed where she’d blown it repeatedly. Sally’s hair was falling out of its bun, stray locks poking in a dozen different directions. “Thank goodness, you’re here,” she called out in a croaky voice. “Something terrible has happened.”

  “Did you know the principal of this school, Alex Dunbar, very well?” the sergeant asked Alice.

  She turned to him with a puzzled expression, everything jostling in her head as she played catch-up. “I met him just last weekend, but we got on okay. He invited me to the school yesterday to give a talk.”

  “I’m afraid to say he’s been found dead, this morning.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  When the sergeant raised his eyebrows, Alice hastened to add, “A woman waiting outside told me. Trish Clarkson.”

  “I found his body,” Sally said in her cracked voice, before sobbing into a tissue. “I still can’t believe this is all happening.” She held out a hand that trembled violently in the air. “I’m shaking.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Alice said, crossing over to her and crouching down to be level. “It must have been a horrendous shock. What on earth were you doing here this morning?”

  “I forgot the tray last night. And after I was so mean to you about it, I wouldn’t have felt right calling you to ask you to get it. I thought I could get here and collect it and still make it to the cafe for the opening.” Sally’s eyes widened, and she clutched the tissue harder. “Oh, no! I completely forgot about the cafe.”

 

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