Dropping Like Pies (Apple Orchard Cozy Mystery Book 11)

by Chelsea Thomas

  Big Dan groaned. Teeny spun to look at him. “What was that groan? Who were you talking to? Explain yourself and they’ll leave you alone.”

  “It was nothing,” said Big Dan. “Really. A whole, big, stinking pile of nothing.”

  “Forgive me, Dan,” said Miss May. “But that phone call did not sound like nothing. It sounded like you were upset.”

  “And it also seemed like you were hiding from us and from everyone else when you were on the call,” I said. “The fact is, I don’t think anyone in this room really thinks you committed the murder… But we need you to help us understand what was going on. Who are you talking to on the phone? And why are you still hiding it?”

  Teeny crossed her arms. “You don’t have to answer any of those questions if you don’t want to. Although, I would like to know. You can tell me. But only if you want to.”

  “If you don’t talk to us you’re going to find yourself talking to the police sooner rather than later,” said Miss May. “They’re not as quick as we are, but they usually find their way to the same clues, eventually. So you should talk to us now so we can get ahead of this.”

  Teeny gave Big Dan a strong nod. “Miss May is right, you know. As always. If you’ve got nothing to hide you might as well come out with it now!”

  Big Dan closed his eyes for a few seconds to steady himself. Then he opened them. “Fine. It’s true. I had a suspicious phone call.”

  Teeny gasped.

  “It wasn’t a big deal,” said Big Dan. “I just—I didn’t want anyone to hear what I was talking about.”

  “Don’t say anymore if you’re gonna incriminate yourself,” said Teeny. “What if I have to testify against you in court? I would be willing to lie for you, I think. But I’m a terrible liar. I get the Chelsea-sweats and start blabbing like a fool.”

  “Let him talk,” said Miss May. “Go ahead, Dan.”

  “Right. Talk. I can do that.” Big Dan took a deep breath, then he launched into it. “Coach Thornton was a bully. You all know that, right? He was a mean guy. It’s no secret he cut me from the team. And I’ll admit I never quite forgave him for that. The man didn’t give any reason. He just said ‘bye Dan,’ and shut the door in my face. He seemed to take pleasure in my misery and confusion. Maybe that was his style of leadership or something. It left a bad taste on my taste buds. And it kept everyone on the team scared that they were going to be cut at all times.”

  “But you got cut from that team decades ago,” I said. “Whatever you were discussing on that phone call sounded so present and so urgent. It didn’t sound like an old, festering wound.”

  Big Dan nodded. “Coach Thornton was announced as the winner of a lifetime achievement award a couple months ago. Apparently, the people who run the sports stuff in the whole county decided that Thornton should get the award because he won all those championships back in the day. A bunch of us former players thought it was ridiculous when they announced the award. The guy was a nightmare. He didn’t deserve his championships and he hurt a lot of kids.”

  “I’m sorry he was such a terror,” said Miss May.

  “That’s a good word for it,” said Big Dan. “Coach Thornton was a terror. And I hated the idea that he won a lifetime achievement award for it. It bothered me for two weeks, solid. But eventually, I was able to forget about it, thanks to my meditation. Then, a couple of weeks ago, the county announced that they were going to have a big ceremony to honor Coach Thornton and to officially present him with his trophy.” Big Dan shook his head. “When I got that invitation I thought I could punch through steel. I was so mad. A lot of people in town thought that the award was a wonderful honor for a wonderful man. They didn’t know any better. The people who really knew Coach Thornton, players, other coaches, teachers at Pine Grove High School? We all hated the idea of that overgrown stink bug being honored in front of the whole town. It was ridiculous!”

  “I get that,” said Teeny. “There’s nothing I hate more than watching my enemies succeed.”

  “Exactly,” said Big Dan. “Anyway, a few days after I got the invitation to the ceremony, I ran into my old English teacher at the Brown Cow and we started talking.”

  “Which teacher?” asked Miss May.

  “Mrs. Wimple,” said Big Dan.

  I straightened See Saws blanket, trying to keep my composure. Teeny and Miss May had spoken with Mrs. Wimple at Thornton’s impromptu memorial at the orchard. They told me Wimple had seemed angry. But I remembered the teacher fondly. And I didn’t like that she was somehow wrapped up in Big Dan’s tale.

  Miss May nodded. “OK. Go on.”

  “Right,” said Big Dan. “So I ran into Mrs. Wimple at the Brown Cow and we got started talking about how much we disliked Coach Thornton. Mrs. Wimple was even angrier about the whole award ceremony thing than I was. Apparently Thornton used to pick on Wimple for her silly last name. He called her the Big Wimp. Wimpy Baby. Wimple Stiltskin. Silly stuff but it hurt her.”

  Teeny turned to Miss May. “No wonder Wimple was so angry that day up at the farm. Thornton bullied her.”

  “She certainly…felt her feelings,” said Miss May.

  Big Dan let out a small laugh. “That sounds like Mrs. Wimple. She’s not the best at hiding her emotions. Anyway, we got to talking at the Brown Cow, and Mrs. Wimple and I decided that we should write a piece for the Pine Grove Gazette about why Coach Thornton didn’t deserve the lifetime achievement award. We met up a few times and wrote a scathing article that revealed the truth about Coach Thornton. Everyone knows I’m not a writer. But Wimple helped elevate the language. And I’m proud of the article. At least I was proud…until Coach Thornton died. After he died the whole thing felt petty. I was disappointed in myself for being so caught up in the past, and I regretted writing the article.”

  “You didn’t want to speak ill of the dead,” said Miss May.

  “Exactly,” said Big Dan. “I also didn’t want everyone to know how much I hated Thornton while the identity of his killer was unknown. You know how people in Pine Grove talk. I’d be deemed guilty in the court of public opinion as soon as the article was published.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I appreciate you sharing this with us. But what does it all have to do with that phone call we overheard?”

  “Who were you talking to?” asked Miss May.

  “I was talking to Liz, the editor of the Gazette. She sent me an email to let me know that she was going to publish the article despite Thornton’s death. I was trying to get her to pull the piece but she didn’t want to. So, I’ll admit, I got a little heated. Used my strong words.”

  Teeny pointed at Big Dan. “See? He had a great reason for having an angry phone call. Liz can be so frustrating!”

  “She’s dogged and honest,” said Miss May. “That’s good for the town.”

  Big Dan looked down and kicked the ground. “So do you still think I killed the coach?”

  “I don’t think you did it,” said Miss May. “But I do think you should work harder to find privacy next time you want to make an angry phone call about a murder victim. Especially when you’ve got three sleuths and a cop under the same roof.”

  Big Dan chuckled. “Point taken.”

  Teeny crossed to the barn door and looked outside. “We better get back up to the farmhouse. This snow is falling upside down and backwards. And I’m not trying to get buried alive.”

  “Good idea,” said Miss May, leading us out of the barn. “Let’s get home and get warm.”

  Miss May, Teeny and Big Dan headed out. I hung back to say goodbye to See-Saw. And to give her one more handful of hay.

  “Okie doke, See-Saw. Stay warm, OK?”

  See-Saw loved gossip and she’d been my most reliable confidante throughout my relationship drama. She stamped her feet. Then she let out a light neigh, which I interpreted as, “I heard you broke up with Germany.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “It’s been rough. Sometimes I forget about it. Then I notice this little piercing feeli
ng in my heart and I remember the relationship’s over. But, if I’m honest, when I see Wayne it all feels a bit better.”

  Miss May called my name from outside.

  “Sorry, See-Saw. Gotta run. Good talk.”

  See-Saw stamped her feet again and flicked her tail in a casual good-bye.

  I didn’t know how that tiny horse could be so calm with a murderer on the loose. But I made a mental note to emulate her as we forged ahead in the investigation. If experience was any indicator, things were about to get crazy. And I needed to be prepared.

  32

  Sleeping on the Job

  We entered the farmhouse to find the formidable Detective Wayne Hudson once again fast asleep on the couch by the fire with Kitty perched on his stomach. Wayne had his hands behind his head and a placid expression on his face. A soft purring emanated from the couch and I couldn’t tell if it came from the cat or the man.

  We showed Big Dan to a bedroom at the back of the house. Then Teeny and I got ready for bed at the double sinks in the bathroom adjacent to Miss May’s bedroom.

  Teeny had an elaborate bedtime routine that involved a variety of creams, lotions, and cotton pads. My bedtime routine, on the other hand, consisted only of brushing my teeth and putting my hair back in a ponytail.

  I traipsed out of the bathroom after completing my quick routine. Teeny turned and followed me out. “Chelsea. We can share the bathroom. You don’t have to hurry out.”

  “Oh it’s OK,” I said. “I’m done. I’m all ready for bed.”

  Teeny gave me an incredulous smile. “You’re kidding.”

  I shrugged. “No. I’m serious.”

  “But all you did was brush your teeth and put your hair back. You didn’t even wash your face.”

  “I washed my face earlier today so I think I’m still good.”

  Teeny blinked and looked flabbergasted. “Get back in here. Let me teach you about my creams and what they do. You might be able to get away with your lazy beauty routine while you’re young. But you’re not going to stay young unless you work at it.”

  I laughed. “I’m not going to stay young no matter what.”

  “Just put a little anti-wrinkle cream on your forehead.”

  “But my forehead doesn’t have wrinkles,” I said.

  “Don’t take your looks for granted, Chelsea. Your beauty is constantly trying to escape the prison of your face. Every day it digs its hole under the fence a centimeter deeper, planning its escape. Then, one day, all you will be left with is a pile of dirt and no more stunning good looks.”

  “I think you’d be pretty with or without all the creams,” I said.

  “Thank you,” said Teeny. “But you’re wrong.”

  A few moments later, I heard Miss May’s heavy footsteps climbing the stairs and plodding toward the bedroom. Then the bedroom door swung open and Miss May entered with a sigh. “We haven’t had so many guests at the farmhouse in a long time. I forgot how exhausting it can be. Are you ready for bed?”

  I nodded. “Brushed my teeth and put my hair in a ponytail. But I’m not sure how far along Teeny is.”

  “Quit making fun of me.” Teeny emerged from the bathroom with a green beauty mask plastered on her face. “This beauty routine is time tested and it works. May, would you like a mask?”

  Miss May laughed. “Not tonight, thank you. But I think you look wonderful in that shade of green.”

  Teeny sat down and began rubbing cream on her feet. Miss May disappeared into her walk-in closet to get dressed. I climbed into the bed and pulled the covers up over my knees.

  “OK. Let’s double back to this case,” I said. “Who should we talk to next?”

  “That’s a great question,” said Miss May, calling out from the closet. “We have lots of information. Now we need to decide what to do with it.”

  “As long as we all agree Big Dan is not a killer, I don’t care what we do next,” said Teeny.

  Miss May emerged from the closet wearing a fresh set of apple themed pajamas. “I’m sorry again that we pursued Big Dan as a suspect without checking in with you.”

  Teeny waved Miss May away. “It’s fine. I would’ve done the same thing. I know it’s important to follow every clue, no matter where it points. I was just a little upset in the moment.”

  “OK so who do we still have as suspects ?” I asked. “There’s James, the former basketball player, but he has an alibi. So I don’t think we can count him anymore.”

  “Our conversation with Big Dan left me with a renewed interest in Coach Sheila,” said Miss May.

  “Me too,” said Teeny. “That Sheila has a sneaky little rat face. If she knew about Thornton’s lifetime achievement award, that might have made her jealous. And she clearly has issues with all those championships Thornton won.”

  “Good point,” I said.

  “About the sneaky little rat face?” asked Teeny.

  I laughed. “No. About the award. The mere existence of the award introduces a whole new slew of possible motives. Sheila is a competitive woman. Maybe when Thornton won that award, it finally pushed her over the edge.”

  “One more victory that Thornton stole from Sheila’s hands,” said Miss May. “Good theory.”

  “What about that Mrs. Wimple?” asked Teeny, moving on to lather her opposite foot. “That teacher hated Thornton and she didn’t hide it. And now we find out that she worked with Big Dan to write that piece for the Gazette.”

  “I don’t know,” said Miss May. “Does Wimple seem like the type to chop up a body and bury it on the orchard?”

  “You never know,” said Teeny. “Maybe she has a strange cousin who was in love with her. And maybe she used the cousin to do all of her dirty work. That’s always possible. But you better be careful. Because if she’s not prepared to run away with that cousin he might snap and use everything she’s taught him against her.”

  “North Port Diaries?” I asked, referencing one of Teeny’s favorite television mysteries.

  “Maybe,” said Teeny. “But just because I learned about a mystery on television does not mean that it’s not a viable theory in our investigations.”

  “Mrs. Wimple was a tough teacher,” I said. “And I think I remember her sparring with Coach Thornton a bit. Thornton would always pull players out of Wimple’s classes for extra practice or team meetings. Wimple hated it. But I thought she was sweet, deep down. Or if not sweet, at least…moral. Not a killer.”

  “You might have been wrong,” said Miss May. “We should keep her on the list.”

  “I suppose,” I said. “But we also need to remember that mysterious figure from the sports museum. That person has to be connected to Thornton’s murder. And they moved like they were young and spry.”

  “True,” said Miss May. “Wimple may be a great teacher but she’s anything but spry.”

  “Maybe there were two killers,” said Teeny. “I don’t think the existence of that sports museum ninja should exclude anyone from our list of suspects.”

  “Is that everyone?” I asked. “Sheila, Wimple, and mystery museum ninja?”

  “I think so,” said Teeny.

  “Not so fast,” said Miss May. “There’s someone we haven’t discussed at all and he’s been right under our noses this whole time.”

  “Not Big Dan!” Teeny said.

  “No,” Miss May said.

  I scratched my nose. “Who?”

  Miss May smirked. “Think about it. Out of all our suspects, who had the most contact with Coach Thornton in recent years?”

  “None of them,” I said. “All our suspects are somehow tied to Coach Thornton’s past. They don’t have much to do with his present.”

  “Brian was his next-door neighbor,” said Teeny. “But I thought we agreed he didn’t do it.”

  “That’s right,” said Miss May. “But…”

  I sat straight up. “Mr. Brian! Brian’s husband had all the same motives as Brian. They were both neighbors with Thornton, after all. Plus, Mr. Brian w
orks at the high school. I think he’s an aide or a safety officer or something.”

  Miss May nodded. “From the sound of it, it’s unlikely the two of them got along.”

  “So let’s get to Pine Grove High School as soon as possible,” said Teeny. “Between Wimple and Mr. Brian, we’ve got a few good suspects running those halls. Maybe we can get a two-for-one deal.”

  “We will.” Miss May crossed the room and looked out the window. “As soon as it’s safe to go.”

  33

  A Shred of Evidence

  I woke up the next morning to the smell of bacon, coffee, and eggs. A small smile passed over my face. Those were the smells of my childhood in the farmhouse. And the scent of the cooking, mixed with the sounds of banging pots and pans and voices talking, made me feel all warm and nostalgic.

  I slid my feet over the edge of the bed and stood. Warm sunlight hit my toes and warmed my legs. I stood and looked out the window.

  It was the most wonderful winter wonderland I had seen in my entire adult life. The sky was a calming, slate blue. And the ground was pure and white.

  The snow reached halfway up the trunk of my favorite apple tree. And a large icicle drooped from the roof down in front of my windowpane. Water dripped off the end of the icicle like it was running through a leaky faucet. I could tell from how fast the water dripped that the temperature had warmed. So I slid my window up, shoved my torso outside, and snapped the icicle off the roof. It broke off so clean in my hand. The sound was satisfying and so was the cold. I tossed the icicle down to the ground and watched it spear into the snow.

  The air was crisp but I didn’t feel cold. I laughed and screamed out in celebration. As far as I’m concerned, snow is always a miracle. I was grateful that it brought me a brief break from the murder investigation. And I was hungry for a big plate of Miss May’s famous scrambled eggs.

  Everyone was already at the table eating when I arrived in the kitchen. Big Dan and Wayne sat at opposite ends, chowing down. Teeny sat near Big Dan, holding her coffee cup with two hands and smiling. Miss May bustled about near the stove, flipping French toast, scrambling more eggs, and patting grease off a big pile of bacon.