Did you tell Emmett?
Bessie blushed. Well, I didn’t want to say anything, partly because I could be wrong and partly because I probably shouldn’t have let Mrs. Reed in there. She paused then pointed to Devon’s phone. Can you find a picture of a stun gun injury on there? she asked.
Sure. But if you’d let Mom get you a smartphone, you could do that for yourself, he quipped.
Bessie had taken a while to embrace mobile technology. Although she adored her iPad and never left home without her e-reader, she wasn’t quite ready to take on a smartphone. She’d read that people could spy on you through those things and she was not quite ready to give up her privacy just to be able to play Sudoku or solitaire while on the go.
My dumb phone is fine for me, thank you very much. Now, where’s that picture?
Devon pulled up his browser and typed at lightning speed. In just a few seconds the small screen was filled with images of people who’d been injured--and worse--by stun guns.
Oh, my! she gasped. I was right. That man was zapped by a stun gun! Her lips formed a grim line and for forehead furrowed. They just took the body away. I’ll have to tell Emmett to have them look at his chest.
And why would I have to look at his chest? Emmett’s voice made her jump as though she’d been doing something wrong and had been caught in the act.
Oh, Emmett, you shouldn’t sneak up on me like that, she scolded him.
Emmett sat down beside her. Why would I need to look at his chest? he asked again, ignoring her statement.
How much did you hear? she queried right back.
Enough. And yes, I did look at his chest. I can’t be sure, but your guess is probably right. The marks on Frank’s body did look like taser marks, though we can’t be sure until the coroner looks at him.
Oh, this is bad! Bessie exclaimed, shaking her head to emphasize her point. Emmett, did you know that Frank had a bad heart? Emmett shook his head. Well, he did. Dorothy told me that she thought he must have had another heart attack. He had one a couple of years ago and had to have a pacemaker put in.
Emmett stared at her in disbelief. You learned all this in the twenty minutes or so that I left you alone with Dorothy Reed? Bessie nodded. Well, I guess I’ll just let you interrogate all my suspects from now on, he said,
only half-jokingly.
Suspects? She’s a grieving widow, Bessie protested.
Who found her husband’s body after he happened to award his mistress the grand prize for the pie contest. And there’s something else. I found an earring in Frank’s hand--it was a big, pearly-looking thing. He must have been holding onto it when he died, but I can’t imagine why.
Bessie thought this over. Maybe he just found it on the ground? Or, maybe it belonged to his wife. Could it have been hers?
Emmett shook his head. I don’t think so. Dorothy’s earrings were small and golden, very simple. The earring I found was bigger and had silver, not gold, around the pearly part.
Bessie narrowed her eyes. You noticed her earrings? Is that all you noticed about Mrs. Grieving Widow?
Emmett put his arm around Bessie and gave her a quick embrace. Bessie, I don’t notice any other woman when you’re in the room, he assured her. But, I do have to pay attention to details. It’s part of my job, after all.
Satisfied with his answer, Bessie rewarded him with a quick peck on the cheek. I forgive you, she chirped. Now, about this murder…
Emmett put his hands up in a whoa gesture. Hold on there. Nobody said this was murder.
Oh, really? So he used a stun gun on himself and then hid the evidence? Or do you think it was self-defense? Somebody around here decided that Frank Reed was dangerous and took him out before he could overcharge them on the interest of their loan, hmmm?
Maybe it was a bank robbery, Devon suggested. Emmett and Bessie looked confused. So, like, that was the bank’s tent, right? And Mr. Reed told that lady who won the prize at the pie competition that she’d have to go to the bank’s tent to get her money. Maybe someone thought there was a lot more money being stored in there, he suggested.
Oh, that’s a good point, Bessie agreed. Can you ask one of the other bank employees about where they kept the proceeds from today’s events? You would think that they’d keep them protected by an armed guard or something, wouldn’t you?
Emmett frowned. Yeah, you would. Okay, let me go and talk to the bank employees and I guess I’d better talk to Dianne Masterson, too. After all, it looks like she was one of the last people to see Frank alive.
And she was having an affair with him, Bessie pointed out. You were right. I overheard that nice young woman from the bank--Kellyann, I think her name was--I overheard her talking to Dianne just before Mrs. Reed found the body. She told Dianne that she ought to stop seeing Frank and she said that she was tired of keeping his secrets from Mrs. Reed.
Good lord, woman, when did you hear this?
When we were standing over by the lemonade stand a little while ago. Should I have said something sooner? I mean, it’s not like I knew Frank was dead then, so would it have mattered?
Emmett sighed. Maybe, maybe not. Let me go and talk to some people. You and Devon can go on home if you want to. I’ll call you if I need anything.
Bessie crossed her arms and put her foot firmly on the ground. Oh, no, Emmett Barnes. I’m not going anywhere. Devon and I are going to stay close. You might just need our help, you know.
Emmett took a deep, calming breath. Fine. Guess I should have known better than to try and tell you to do anything, he grumbled, but Bessie simply smiled back at him.
Let me go and get you a nice, tall glass of lemonade. You need to stay hydrated if you’re going to be working out here in this heat.
She turned and headed for the lemonade stand before he could object. Someone had to look after that man’s health, and it may as well be her. And while she was at it, Bessie thought she just might find Dianne Masterson and have a little chat with her. After all, Emmett had told her that she was a natural at interrogation, and right at that moment, Bessie really wanted to find out what happened to Frank, But, more than that, she really wanted to know what had become of the remainder of her pecan pie.
5
As luck would have it, Bessie didn’t have to go far to find Dianne. She was sitting beneath the shelter of the awning that extended out from the funnel cake truck, working her way through a rather messy funnel cake piled high with ‘the works’.
Oh, hello, Bessie chirped as she approached the woman. Aren’t those just divine? I’d almost say they’re better than pie, she joked.
Dianne wiped her mouth with a paper napkin. Oh, yes, lordy! I know I shouldn’t be eating this--it’s going to drive my sugar up, I just know it--but I only ever eat them at the fair, so I guess it doesn’t count. She offered Bessie a seat beside her at the plastic picnic table, and Bessie accepted it. Would you like some? she asked, pushing the plate towards Bessie.
Oh, heavens, no! I’ve already had one of those today. Well, I shared one with my grandson, but still… She trailed off and smiled uneasily.
Dianne resumed eating, and for a moment, there was silence. Bessie watched the woman eat and wondered if she was capable of murder. Those are lovely earrings, she said at last. I do like that color.
Dianne instinctively put her hands up to her ears. Thank you, she began but stopped abruptly. Oh! Darn it...I seem to have lost one. She pulled the remaining earring off easily with one hand. They’re just clip-on earrings. I never could be bothered to get my ears pierced, she admitted. Still, these were my favorites. She cupped the remaining earring in one hand. It was pearl with a silver setting exactly like the one that Emmett described. Bessie watched as she dropped it into her purse and resumed picking at her funnel cake.
Maybe the other one will turn up, Bessie offered. In your dead lover’s hand no less.
Dianne shrugged. Normally I’d get all upset over something like this, but today, well, I guess I’m just having too good a day to
care.
Bessie smiled back. Well, I’d certainly say that winning the pie contest was a good thing. I forgot to congratulate you on that. I hope you don’t think I was being rude at the contest. There were too many people to speak to you properly, she said lamely.
Oh, no, that’s fine, Dianne assured her. And honestly, your pie was amazing. I’m not sure why the judges chose the way they did, but I just adored your entry. She hesitated for a moment, then added, I wouldn’t mind getting a copy of the recipe if you don’t mind.
Bessie blushed slightly. Oh, I don’t mind at all. I don’t have it committed to memory, but do your know where Rosewood Place is? The bed and breakfast? Well, it used to be a bed and breakfast, but it’s more like a hotel some days, she joked. I run that with my daughter. If you drop by there anytime I’ll be happy to copy it down for you.
Dianne smiled. I know the place. I’ll come by there one day soon and do just that. She put her fork down and wiped her mouth again. Can I tell you a secret?
Bessie glanced around nervously. As long as you aren’t going to tell me you’ve murdered somebody, she said only half-jokingly.
Dianne laughed. Oh, lordy, no! But I do believe that I’m about to get engaged. Can you believe that? At my age? She put her hand to her chest and took a deep breath. I’ve been seeing this very wonderful man, but we’ve had to keep things a secret, you see. He’s married, but he and his wife have not been close in a very long time. I think he feels sorry for her, you see, and she manipulates him. But today he told me that he is going to talk to her tonight and explain that it’s over between them.
Bessie thought the woman would never stop talking. When she finally paused for a breath, Bessie replied. Oh, well, that’s good news, I guess. I mean, it’s unfortunate that he couldn’t work things out with his wife, but if he really loves you, then I suppose that it’s for the best. It caused a physical discomfort in her stomach to lie to Dianne, but she knew that she couldn’t just come out and tell her that her lover was dead. She tried to find a different way to approach the subject.
Did you get your prize money alright?
Oh, yes, why wouldn’t I?
Well, I couldn’t help but notice that the paramedics were over by the bank tent a little while ago. They had someone on a stretcher loading them up in the ambulance. I saw the security people around there, too. I wondered if someone had been hurt, she lied.
Dianne’s face shifted immediately. What? Oh, my goodness! I hope nobody was hurt badly. Did they say who it might have been?
Bessie shrugged. I didn’t hear anybody say anything, I’m afraid. Dianne’s face was pale and tense. She looked as though she wanted to bolt out of her seat and take off running. I know this is off subject, she added, but when I went to see if my pie had sold well at the charity sale, nobody had seen it. Do you know what Mr. Reed might have done with it?
What? Your pie? No, I’m sorry, Dianne replied. I was just too excited about winning the prize to notice what he did with it. She glanced at her watch. I think I’d better get going. I wanted to see who wins the quilt block contest this year. She rose and started to walk away, but turned abruptly before she did so. Bye, Mrs. Purdy. It was really good talking to you--I’ll try and get by your place soon to get that recipe.
Bessie thought that the woman was trying awfully hard--trying not to panic, or maybe trying not to get upset--but the restraint showed on her tense face. The easy smile was gone, and as she walked away, Dianne’s clipped gait was one of a woman who was desperate to get somewhere else, fast.
Bessie sat at the picnic table by herself for a few minutes, considering the conversation that she’d just had with Dianne. On the whole, the woman seemed likeable, if a bit dim. After all, wasn’t that the oldest line in the books--’I’ll leave my wife for you’--and did the woman really think a man like Frank Reed would give two hoots about anybody’s feelings but his own?
While she was sitting, someone tapped her on the shoulder from behind. Surprised, she turned to find one of the judges from the pie contest.
I’m so sorry to bother you, the man said, but I really did just want to compliment you on that pecan pie. He wore a nametag that read MATT LANE and he looked awfully hot in his button up shirt and long pants. Bessie assumed that the bank’s employees had been instructed to dress in bank attire for the fair, which seemed preposterous to her.
Well, thank you very much, Mr. Lane, she replied, smiling back warmly at him. Can I get you something to drink? You look like you’re about to melt in this heat.
He laughed gently. Oh, I’m fine. I’m almost finished with the judging for the day and then I can change into my civilian clothes and enjoy the fair like everyone else.
Do you have many more events to judge? she asked.
Just the barbecue, he answered with a frown. Normally I love barbecue, but seeing as how I’ve tasted pie, jam, cake, and muffins already today, barbecue’s gonna be a little hard for me to stomach. He rubbed his abdomen to stress his point, and Bessie began digging around inside her purse.
Here you go, she said in a moment, and she held up a pack of antacids triumphantly. I always carry these with me for those days when my eyes are bigger than my stomach, she confided. These should make you feel as right as rain again in no time.
Matt took two of the antacids gratefully. You were robbed, Mrs. Purdy, he confided to her. We all voted for your pie as the winner, but Frank was having none of it. He’s so darned hard-headed, he just won’t listen to anybody else. I’ll bet he’s holed up somewhere now, sipping a cold drink and making us all wait for him to come down and start the last food contest, he complained before popping the chewable tablets in his mouth.
Bessie knew that this wasn’t true, but she didn’t try to explain why. Instead, she simply nodded sympathetically and changed the subject.
I was wondering, do you know what happened to the rest of my pie after the contest? I saw Mr. Reed carry it away from the others when he was awarding Mrs. Masterson her prize money.
Matt harrumphed. It figures. I looked everywhere for that pie--I was going to buy a couple of pieces and eat them later but it was nowhere to be seen during the charity sale. I’ll bet Frank kept it all to himself, that greedy old fart. Suddenly Matt blushed. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t really be talking about my boss like this. I swear, it’s just the heat talking.
Bessie smiled and patted him on the arm. Oh, that’s okay. I’ve had a few Frank Reed type bosses in my day, too, and this heat does make our tempers just a little bit shorter, doesn’t it? She put the remaining antacids back in her purse and rose from her seat at the picnic table.
It was certainly a pleasure talking to you, Mr. Lane, but I think I’d better run along now. I’ve got to find my grandson and make sure he’s staying hydrated. You take care and do the same now, you hear?
She and the banker walked in opposite directions, but her path was just for show. As soon as he was out of sight, she doubled back and passed the food tent. It was filled with people and the scent of barbecue wafted out, making her mouth water. She ignored the sweet, meaty aroma and made her way around to the back of the food tent, where the police had cordoned off their small area using orange traffic cones and plastic decorative flag banners.
Bessie thought that their efforts made it look less like a crime scene and more like a circus construction zone, but she supposed that was the point. It was no good upsetting people if Frank’s death turned out to be nothing more than a plain old heart attack. Still, the memory of those marks on his chest made her think that there was something far more sinister going on at the County Fair.
Emmett met her at the entrance to the bank’s tent. He seemed happy to see her, despite having told her to go home earlier.
Well, she asked him without greeting him first, did you learn anything new?
He looked at her with eyes that wanted to laugh. The corners of his mouth turned up just a little. In the forty-five minutes that you were away from me? He forced his mouth into a line. We
ll, yes, actually, I did. It seems that there was supposed to be a security guard on duty here at all times but he wasn’t here when Frank died.
Bessie’s mouth formed an ‘O’. Do you think the security guard killed him?
No, Emmett replied bluntly. I also found out about your pie.
Bessie’s ‘O’ reappeared, wider than before. Well, what happened to it?
The guard told us that Frank gave him the pie and told him to go share it with the other guard down at the admissions gate. See, the bank had two guards, one at each location, and the one at the tent would go down and retrieve cash from the ticket sellers at the admission gate. The bank kept it locked up in a box in the bank tent. After the fair, the security guards were supposed to accompany two of the bank employees back to the bank to secure the money in the vault.
Bessie pursed her lips. Did you find any bank box in that tent, because I sure didn’t see one, she asked him. He shook his head.
Nope. I’m just about to question the bank employees now.
None of them know about Frank, I take it?
Not from me. I’ve spoken to Mrs. Reed quite extensively, though I haven’t learned much from her. She’s still pretty shaken up, I guess, so I sent her over to the First Aid tent to cool down and rest until I get a chance to talk to her again.
Well, I spoke with one of the nice young men from the bank just a few minutes ago. He didn’t know a thing about Frank--he just assumed that Frank was making them all wait for him so they could judge the barbecue. Apparently, he wasn’t a very good boss or a very nice person, she added. And he was a greedy pie thief.
Emmett raised an eyebrow. Barbecue, you say? In that tent right there? He scratched at his bushy mustache, which was a white as fresh snow. Maybe I’ll just go in there and fill in for Frank, he suggested half-jokingly.
Bessie watched him disappear into the tent. When he opened and closed the flap, a wave of barbecue aroma wafted out, making her stomach growl. How can you be talking to me? she asked her tummy. You should be full after all the junk food I’ve eaten today.
Pecan Pies & Alibis Page 3
