Death of a Blueberry Tart

by Lee Hollis

  But apparently, despite that fact, Julio preferred the company of women much older than himself.

  Chapter 31

  A woman’s blood-curdling scream stopped Hayley and Bruce in their tracks as they approached Julio’s Salon on Rodick Street. Hayley grabbed Bruce’s arm and they both gaped at each other in shock before Bruce bolted forward and charged his way toward the shop to rescue whatever damsel was in distress. Hayley followed on his heels.

  An elderly woman in her mid to late seventies, her wet hair still in curlers and a black nylon cape tied around her neck, flew out of the shop, nearly colliding with Bruce and Hayley as she scrambled down the wooden steps that led into the salon. It was Gretchen Maxwell, who worked at a local insurance company and handled Hayley’s home and auto policies. “Hayley, you better call the cops before somebody gets killed in there!”

  Hayley stared blankly at Gretchen as she pushed her way past them and ran for her car, which was parked in the lot across the street.

  Hayley and Bruce exchanged another wary look, not sure they should enter the salon without police backup, but then another scream and something crashing on the floor propelled them forward and they raced inside, stopping near the reception desk. The entire salon had emptied out of customers, leaving Julio, who was ducking behind one of his hydraulic black leather salon chairs. Across the room, brandishing a curling iron in her fist, was his wife, Jeanette, her face flushed with anger and her eyes blazing.

  It didn’t take Hayley more than a few seconds to size up the situation. Apparently Liddy wasn’t the only one who had heard the latest hot gossip. Word had already spread around town about Julio’s possible affair with the late Regina Knoxville. And the news had obviously landed on Jeanette’s doorstep.

  “Would you please just calm down, Jeanette?” Julio pleaded, peeking out from behind the salon chair.

  “Don’t tell me what to do, you two-timing fink lothario!” Jeanette cried, hurling the curling iron at him. It flew over him and smacked into the wall mirror, cracking it slightly.

  Julio peered up at the crack, aghast. “Look what you did! Do you know how much that’s going to cost me to replace?”

  “I don’t care!” Jeanette wailed. “I just know it won’t be coming out of my alimony check!”

  Hayley was not completely surprised by the bitter scene unfolding in front of them between Julio and Jeanette. In fact, she had never really expected the marriage to last as long as it had. Jeanette was from a wealthy family who owned a lot of local real estate, and was very spoiled and used to getting what she wanted. She had dated a lot of local boys during her younger years. However, it turned out most of them were more interested in her daddy’s money than Jeanette herself. Being rich was her curse. It didn’t help that she had a grating personality that put off most people. Still, when the handsome Argentinean hairdresser Julio first arrived in town, Jeanette had set her sights on him immediately. It took a while for her to wear him down, but finally he agreed to go out on a date with her. A lot of locals were skeptical because Julio was such a handsome man, and Jeanette was, well, rather plain to put it politely. It also didn’t help that they started dating around the time Julio was looking for a business loan to start his own salon, and Jeanette was happy to gift the twenty grand he needed to get started as an engagement present. The flirty, impossibly sexy Julio was loyal and faithful to his wife for about a year, but then, according to word on the street, he couldn’t resist some of the temptations that came waltzing into his shop looking for a cut and dry. Although Julio had successfully kept his suspected dalliances on the down low, his purported exploits kept the gossips in town buzzing on a regular basis, mostly because a lot of his customers relished picturing themselves as “the other woman.” Everyone just assumed Jeanette knew what was going on and had accepted it, that perhaps they had some kind of arrangement, but now it was crystal clear the poor little rich girl, now an embittered, betrayed older woman, had been kept in the dark, totally ignorant.

  Until now.

  Bruce, trying to tamp down the escalating tensions, stepped forward cautiously just as Jeanette scooped up a purple hairbrush off the counter. “Jeanette, why don’t you put down the hairbrush, and we will all take a deep breath and talk about whatever is going on here rationally, like adults . . .”

  Jeanette flared up like a sudden brush fire. “Nobody asked you to butt into this, Bruce Linney! Get the hell out of here!” She pitched the hairbrush directly at him, and Bruce practically had to dive out of the way to avoid getting beaned in the forehead.

  “Bruce, maybe we should go . . .” Hayley quietly suggested.

  “No! Don’t leave me alone with her! She’s a raging lunatic!” Julio yelled.

  Jeanette whipped her head back around toward her husband and stood silently for a moment, processing what he had just said to her. Then she burst into tears, ran to the bathroom in the back of the salon, and locked herself inside.

  “You can stay in there all night for all I care!” Julio bellowed before jumping up from his crouching position behind the chair and marching over to Bruce and Hayley, who stood tentatively near the reception desk.

  “I am so sorry you had to see that,” he said, trying to regain some sense of professionalism. “Sometimes she gets these crazy ideas into her head and I have to talk her down from the ledge.”

  “I guess somebody told her about you and Regina Knoxville,” Hayley said pointedly, anticipating a reaction.

  She got one.

  Julio bristled and his face darkened. “I do not know what you are talking about. I have never cheated on my wife, if that was what you were implying.”

  The denial was almost laughable.

  “Especially with someone as old . . . I mean as mature as Regina. She was my client here at the salon, that’s all.”

  He was so obviously lying.

  Hayley considered presenting him with what Liddy had told her about Ginny O’Conner delivering mail to the Knoxville house and what she had witnessed, but decided against it. Why rile him up even more?

  “You okay, buddy? Your head’s bleeding,” Bruce noticed.

  A trickle of blood was slowly rolling down the left side of Julio’s face. He picked up a towel and wiped it off. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. She got me in the temple with some thinning shears.”

  “Ouch,” Hayley said, grimacing.

  Julio suddenly snapped back to his jovial self, slapping a friendly smile on his face “All this unpleasantness will pass, believe me. Once Jeanette realizes she overreacted and has nothing to worry about, she’ll be fine.”

  “I’m happy to hear that,” Hayley said, not buying it.

  “Hayley, why don’t you call here tomorrow and I’ll give you a free shampoo and style, on the house for your inconvenience. You too, Bruce. You could use a trim.”

  Bruce ran his fingers through his hair. “Really?” “You just need a little cleanup,” Julio said, leading them to the door. It was clear he wanted them to get out of his shop.

  Hayley took Bruce’s hand. “Let’s go, Bruce. Julio, please tell Jeanette I hope she feels better.”

  “Will do,” Julio said with a thin smile.

  And then they left. As they headed down the wooden steps, Hayley heard Julio locking the door behind them to prevent anyone else from entering the salon until he had fully regained control of his emotional mess of a wife.

  Hayley and Bruce were still talking about what had happened at the salon as they arrived at home and were in the kitchen. Bruce grabbed a beer from the fridge as Hayley opened the oven to see a chicken potpie bubbling on the rack.

  “Mom made dinner,” she said gratefully.

  Bruce popped the top off his Bud Light with a bottle opener. “That was nice of her.”

  “I’m going to make us a salad,” Hayley said, opening the fridge and perusing the vegetable bin. She settled on a head of romaine lettuce, a couple of Persian cucumbers, and some grape tomatoes. As she began chopping the lettuce, Bruce leaned agains
t the counter and said, “So what do you think?”

  “You mean do I think Jeanette was the one who planted the hive full of bees that stung Regina Knoxville to death?”

  “Makes sense. The vengeful wife going after the woman out to destroy her marriage.”

  “Well, if the gossips in town are right, there would be about twenty other women in town that Jeanette would have to go after for sleeping with her husband too. What makes Regina so special?”

  “Maybe with the others she was totally clueless. You saw how angry she was. This could be the first one she actually found out about.”

  “It’s possible, but improbable. Julio is such a flirt it’s hard to imagine she didn’t suspect something at some point,” Hayley said.

  They both heard a creaking sound.

  Bruce opened his mouth to say something but Hayley raised her hand, stopping him. She knew that creak. She heard it every time she went up the stairs and her foot hit a certain point on the second to top step.

  Bruce mouthed, “What?”

  Hayley leaned in and whispered in Bruce’s ear. “Somebody is eavesdropping on our conversation.”

  They waited a few seconds.

  “Mom, is that you?”

  No answer.

  Hayley tiptoed from the kitchen to the hallway and peered up through the railing to see a foot in a slipper perched on the second step. It was definitely Sheila. Leroy was sniffing the slipper and then began licking her bare ankle.

  “Mom?”

  Sheila knew she was caught and chirped, feigning surprise, “Hayley, I had no idea you were home. I didn’t hear you come in. Is Bruce with you?”

  “Yes, he is.”

  Sheila then bounded down the stairs, pretending she had been in her room reading a book or watching the news, but definitely not listening in on their conversation from the top of the staircase. “I cooked dinner. I hope Bruce likes chicken potpie.”

  “I love it,” Bruce said from the kitchen with a knowing smile.

  “Oh, good, now tell me all about your day,” Sheila said, grabbing the pot holders and opening the oven to check on her casserole.

  Julio Garcia was not the only unconvincing liar they had encountered today.

  Island Food & Spirits BY HAYLEY POWELL

  It is hardly a typical week in my life if my bestie Mona Barnes doesn’t call me with some sort of complaint about her mother, Jane, and last night was certainly no exception.

  Mona and her mother are so close that at times they sound just like each other. They tend to finish each other’s sentences and mimic the other’s mannerisms while in the midst of a conversation. However, when they happen to disagree with each other, boy howdy, watch out! Mona’s father once compared their fights to an atomic bomb going off! He would take shelter in the basement until all the screaming and stomping finally came to an end and a truce was called.

  No one would ever dispute the fact that Mona and Jane love each other, but that doesn’t stop most people from pussyfooting around those two, fearing a brand-new argument could erupt between them at a moment’s notice.

  Last night Mona called me and the first words out of her mouth after I answered with a cheery “Hello,” were “Holy crap! You will never guess what that woman did now!” I immediately made myself a Blueberry Jam Cocktail and settled in my chair out on the deck, getting comfortable for the latest mother-daughter drama.

  Mona recounted her harrowing story that had unfolded just hours ago when she was heading to the Shop ’n Save to do her weekly grocery shopping. She saw her mother walking to the store on the street, carrying an armful of her reusable bags. Mona thought it might be fun if she and Jane shopped together and shared a little bonding time. Well, that idea proved to be her fatal mistake. Because from the moment they entered the store and were rolling their carts side by side, laughing about something silly one of Mona’s kids had done that day in school, that’s when the trouble started.

  Every time Mona reached for a grocery item, in this case a bunch of Lunchables for her kids—a couple of Pizza Kabobbles, Mini Hotdogs, and Chicken Dunks, tossing them into her cart—Jane couldn’t help but snort her disapproval. Mona chose to ignore it at first. But then there was this annoying constant clicking of her mother’s tongue when Mona stockpiled her kids’ favorite breakfast cereals in her cart, including Cap’n Crunch, Lucky Charms, and Froot Loops. Jane was sending a clear signal that this was not acceptable breakfast food. But still, she refused to just come out and say it.

  After an eye roll from her mother in the bread aisle, when Mona was loading up on four loaves of Wonder Bread, Mona couldn’t stand it anymore and grabbed her cart and raced away from her mother, refusing to endure any more of her judgmental looks. In her haste to escape her mother, Mona nearly knocked over the nice lady handing out free cake samples near the snack aisle.

  Finally, it all came to a head. Jane caught up with her daughter just as Mona was grabbing box after box of Hostess processed desserts such as Ding Dongs, Suzy Q’s, and vanilla Zingers. Jane apparently had finally seen enough. “Oh, dear Lord, Mona, are you trying to give my grandchildren type two diabetes?”

  Mona was dumbfounded. This was so out of character for her mother, who never cared one whit about what Mona chowed down on as a kid. As long as she didn’t get sick, or have too many cavities at the dentist’s office, all was good. But now she had decided she was some kind of professional nutritionist?

  Still, Mona did not want to cause a scene.

  “Do we have to do this now?” Mona hissed.

  “No wonder those kids of yours just run around not listening to a word you say! They’re on a constant sugar high!”

  That was the proverbial last straw. It was one thing for Mona to complain about her children, but it was quite another for her own mother, the queen of spoiling her grandkids with candy, cakes, and ice cream, to dare suggest to Mona how she should parent her children.

  Mona suddenly snapped and tore open a box of Sno Balls and started firing them at her mother. Jane, who was as tough and ornery as her daughter, wasn’t about to retreat or surrender. Instead, she snatched a box of orange-flavored cupcakes off the shelf, ripped them open and began hurling them back at her daughter. It was an all-out war of flying snack cakes!

  The poor woman handing out cake samples had to duck underneath her cardboard table to protect herself from the sweet-tasting artillery flying over her. A few shoppers on both ends of the aisle began cheering them on, some rooting for Mona, others yelling and clapping for Jane.

  Luckily, before the shelves were empty, Officer Donnie appeared on the scene to restore order. The startled young policeman had just swung in to pick up a few ingredients for his girlfriend, who fancied herself a budding Martha Stewart. Officer Donnie shouted at Mona and her mother to cease fire as he pushed his way through the crowd.

  Unfortunately, due to the cheers and their own shouting, Mona and Jane didn’t hear him warning them to stop and he got pelted in the face with a few stray Ho Hos. By the time Officer Donnie had drawn his baton and was flashing his badge, mother and daughter finally decided it might be a good time to stop their public spat, although under their breath they continued blaming the other for starting the cake war.

  True to form, Mona and Jane did offer to stick around and clean up the mess after paying for everything, but the store manager politely declined their offer and begged Officer Donnie to just escort them out of the store as quickly as he could. Mona not only paid for all the destroyed snack cakes, but also sent over a case of fresh lobsters to the manager’s home as a peace offering (thus also insuring she would not be permanently banned from the Shop ’n Save).

  Mother and daughter were back on speaking terms, at least until about three days later, when Jane commented that Mona’s new haircut made her look like her cousin Ricky, who still sported a mullet.

  Speaking of Jane, I have a great Easy Blueberry Jam recipe today that goes beautifully on her blueberry scones recipe. I also have a fantastic cock
tail recipe, so I hope you try them both!

  When it is summertime and we are in the heart of blueberry season, you will love this blueberry jam slathered all over your morning toast, or even better, enjoy a blueberry jam cocktail. You can thank me later!

  BLUEBERRY JAM PROSECCO COCKTAIL

  INGREDIENTS

  1½ tablespoons blueberry jam

  1 ounce lemon juice

  2 ounces vodka

  3 ounces Prosecco

  Ice

  In a cocktail shaker, add the ice and all the ingredients except the Prosecco, shake until well chilled, then strain into an ice-filled cocktail glass, top with the Prosecco, and enjoy.

  EASY BREEZY BLUEBERRY JAM

  INGREDIENTS

  2 cups fresh blueberries

  ¼ cup honey

  ½ teaspoon cinnamon

  1 tablespoon lemon juice

  Put all your ingredients into a saucepan and mix together. Bring to a boil, then simmer for 30 to 35 minutes. When the mixture has a jam-like consistency, turn off the heat and store in ajar in the refrigerator until you are ready to enjoy!

  Chapter 32

  Bonnie Henkel was faced with unbridled skepticism when she first introduced a Zumba class to the YMCA gym. Many of the locals had trouble pronouncing the word, let alone drumming up the interest to actually attend the one-hour workout mixing high and low intensity moves with Latin and world rhythms. After recruiting a few brave souls to partake in her brand-new calorie-burning dance party, word slowly started to spread, and after a few months people were being turned away at the door because the studio could only hold so many people.

  Bonnie then expanded her classes, offering different versions including the immensely popular U-Jam Fitness, designed for all ages and fitness levels, a slight twist on Zumba that Bonnie promised would leave you dripping in sweat and glowing with smiles. And she managed to deliver every time. Bonnie herself was upbeat, energetic, and stunningly gorgeous, which would explain the number of men who decided to check her out, or rather check the class out. She had learned Zumba from her college roommate Kamala, who was born in Mumbai and incorporated a lot of songs from Bollywood movies, including her favorite, Desi Boyz, from 2011, featuring two men suffering from the recession who decide to make some money as male strippers. It was a giant hit in India, and one of the dance numbers, a rollicking, high energy song called “Make Some Noise for the Desi Boyz” was now a staple in her U-Jam Fitness class and it was blasting through the speakers when Hayley, Liddy, and Mona showed up fifteen minutes late for the class.