by Sandi Scott
“Yeah for PH. Isn’t his wife’s name Charlotte?”
Aleta froze and stared at Georgie.
“Xabat Slute loves PH,” Georgie tapped her chin with one hand while she reached up and picked a perfect apple with just the right amount of pistachio green and cherry red on either side of its smooth surface.
“No!” Aleta gasped then ran to her sister. “You don’t think it could be Paula Hemmingsworth?” She whispered the words then clapped her hand over her mouth.
Georgie slapped her hand to her forehead.
“Georgie, we could be totally wrong. These could be anyone’s initials. People carve their names and stuff on trees all the time. There could be a boy in the house named after his father who we’ve never seen before.”
“There could be,” Georgie clicked her tongue. “I think we might want to talk to the property manager again, don’t you?”
“She’s not going to admit to anything, if it’s even her that we are talking about here. This could be a totally random, weird coincidence. You do realize that, right?”
Georgie adjusted her hat and fixed her shawl.
“I can count on one hand the number of people in my life who I’ve met whose names begin with “X”. That doesn’t change the fact that whoever he loves, her name isn’t Charlotte.”
“Maybe he has a pet name for her?” Aleta was trying to be hopeful.
“The last initial should be “S” then, right?”
“Okay, say you are right. What do you think Paula is going to say? She’s not going to admit to anything. Plus, she was a little batty when we spoke to her. Maybe she’s got some weird fantasy about Xabat Slute going on and he doesn’t even know this tree has their love carved into it.”
“That’s completely possible. It also explains why there was such a discrepancy in their stories. So, you see why we need to check it out?”
Aleta nodded and the women, forsaking their apple picking again, headed towards the gift shop.
Along the way, they crossed paths with a few of the outdoor staff members and asked where they could find Paula Hemmingsworth.
“Who?” most of the staff replied.
“The Property Supervisor, Paula Hemmingsworth,” Georgie repeated to half a dozen Apple Harvest Orchard employees.
“I’m not sure who that is,” one of the groundskeepers said.
“Oh, uhm, I think she works in the office,” an older woman working in the gift shop replied, in response to their query about Ms. Hemmingsworth. A pretty cashier nearby chimed in, “She’s Mr. Slute’s secretary, I think.”
“I don’t know her,” a young man tending the barn shook his head.
The janitor, who was cleaning the courtyard in a haphazard fashion, had just scratched his head and looked puzzled. “The orchard has a property supervisor?”
“Now this is getting weird,” Aleta said as they walked into the gift shop. “None of the people who tend the property know who the supervisor is? That doesn’t make any sense. She said she worked here since March, right?”
“That’s what she said. Do you think your friend Marvin might know something about it?” Georgie nodded toward the concession stand.
“He can’t know less than the people we just spoke to.”
Georgie hung back as Aleta spoke with Marvin. It must have been very interesting since she leaned down on her elbow, stretching one leg behind her. After a few minutes, she came back with some coffee, her eyes wider than saucers.
“What? Tell me?” Georgie gushed.
“Marvin said that he has heard of this mysterious creature called Paula Hemmingsworth. He said that Bigfoot is seen more than she is. But yes, she does work here, and has some fancy title like Property Administrator or Property Manager. According to Marvin, all she does is march around every couple of days to yell at a few people and then she retreats to her office.”
“Where is her office?”
“Right next to Xabat’s office,” Aleta smirked.
“Okay, we know what we are dealing with here,” Georgie took a sip of her coffee. “This is good coffee. It tastes like they cooked it over a campfire.”
Aleta took a sip and almost choked. “Smooth,” she joked.
Just as Georgie was about to suggest that they go hunt down Xabat’s office, she saw a flash of bleached blond hair out of the corner of her eye. It was Paula, and she was hurrying outside while mumbling into a walkie-talkie.
“Can you keep up?” Georgie asked.
“You know I can.”
They ditched their strong coffee and followed Paula as she darted off into the orchard at a soldier’s pace.
“Is something on fire?” Aleta asked, starting to puff a little.
“Well, a liar’s pants are often on fire,” Georgie replied making her sister chuckle.
“We don’t know if she’s a liar or not, yet.”
“Get ready to find out,” Georgie said, looking behind her to see how far they were from the gift shop.
“What are you doing?”
“Just trust your big sister, Aleta, and follow me,” Georgie stepped off the main path Paula was walking down and onto a parallel path. Hurrying to pass Paula without being noticed, Georgie then started to yell.
“Help! Oh, hello! Anyone! Please help.” Georgie and Aleta waited. They heard mumbling, and as they kept calling every couple of seconds, finally it produced one Paula Hemmingsworth.
“Can I help you?” she looked at Georgie and Aleta like they were covered in some kind of catchy fungus.
“Oh, thanks goodness it’s you. Paula, right?” Georgie said as she tried to catch her breath.
“Yes,” Paula wrinkled her nose.
“Georgie Kaye. My sister Aleta. This is so embarrassing, Paula. We must have gotten completely turned around. We are lost. Can you point us towards the gift shop?”
“It’s just past down this road,” Paula said with a quick, unemotional smile.
“You’re kidding. Just down this row?” Aleta put her hand to her cheek.
“That’s it,” Paula replied.
“It’s tough getting old, Paula,” Georgie laughed loudly. “Hey, how are the Slutes feeling today? Have they heard anything from the police?”
“Oh, uhm, well Xabat is just so devastated. He and Tony were very close.”
“They were? I thought you said that Tony was abusive,” Georgie went right for the jugular.
“I never said that. Why would I ever say such a thing?” Paula snapped.
“I’m sorry. But you did. Yesterday,” Georgie shrugged.
Paula narrowed her eyes and for a minute. Aleta was sure Paula was going to let loose with a couple of punches in Georgie’s direction.
“Paula, we were wondering where we might find Mrs. Slute. She wasn’t at the house yesterday and we are hoping to talk to her today.”
“I told you she wasn’t there. I don’t know what she’s doing today. She never tells anyone her plans.” Paula flipped her hair behind her for the tenth time. “I don’t think she’s at home today.”
“That’s too bad. At times like this, it is very important to talk to people,” Georgie watched Paula who was fidgeting even more than she had been the day before. “Don’t you think so, Paula? You spoke with us yesterday.”
“And I told you that everything was fine with Tony and Xabat. They were so close, it was like father and son. It really was. But, that’s all I know.”
“I can’t help but think that is a little different from what you’d said yesterday. How come?” Georgie asked.
“I was upset. This is all so unfair to Xabat and me. I mean, to the whole staff. It has really devastated everyone. Tony was a good man. Really good. Xabat loved him.”
“I’m very confused,” Georgie kept prodding. “Were Tony and Xabat as close as you and Xabat?”
Aleta smacked her own head with the palm of her hand. This interview was over and there was going to be no coming back from it. Georgie had pressed the wrong button, and now Paula was goin
g to be on to them.
“I don’t know who you ladies are, but I do know that Xabat loved that boy no matter what. I wish you reporters and photographers would just get off the property and leave Xabat in peace. He hasn’t done anything.”
“We aren’t reporters,” Georgie tried to soothe the woman. The more Paula flipped her hair, the more Georgie was sure it was the equivalent of a spring being wound to the breaking point.
“Well, if you aren’t reporters, then you are some really sick old ladies to be snooping around after a man that experienced such a tragedy,” Paula huffed. “I’d suggest you get your apples and get out of here before I call security.”
Paula stomped off down the row and off into the distance, leaving Georgie and Aleta there with their mouths hanging open.
Suddenly, Georgie started to cough and pat her chest. “A fly just buzzed in my mouth,” she hacked.
“Did you see that? That was a guilty woman, if I ever saw one.”
“Didn’t you hear what I said?” Georgie cleared her throat. “I swallowed a fly.”
“That’s what you get for letting your mouth just hang open,” Aleta teased. “Now, what are we going to do? She’s hiding something.”
“Well, she’s certainly not hiding it well. She’s obviously up to something with Xabat. Did you notice how she always talks about him but never mentions his wife? As if he’s the only one suffering.”
“Yes,” Aleta nodded. “But now, she’s going to tell Xabat about the crazy old ladies on the premises asking questions and have us promptly tossed out. You, with that crazy hat, are going to be impossible to overlook.”
“That’s right,” Georgie pulled the hat from her head and fluffed up her hair. She took off her shawl and folded it over her arm. “I saw that Paula was so mesmerized by my fantastic hat that she didn’t really pay any attention to you, or my face.”
“You don’t think she’s going to know it’s you?”
“Nope. Let’s go drop this off with Pablo and come right back. I want to talk to Charlotte and I’m not leaving until I do.”
Chapter 12
Just as Georgie got to Pablo, her vintage Volkswagen, another familiar vehicle pulled up not far from her. It was Stan’s undercover sedan. He emerged from the driver’s side and Maggie stepped out of the passenger side, looking at Georgie as if she’d just been assigned ten pages of algebra homework.
“Georgie,” Stan waved. Georgie waved back, smiling pleasantly.
“Hey, Stan,” Aleta went and gave him a hug and kiss on the cheek as she always did. “What’s shakin’?”
“We got the coroner’s report back,” he went right into business mode.
“What does it say?” Georgie stepped up after she slammed the door close on Pablo.
“Funny things. It says that Tony Beaumont died of blunt force trauma to the head. He did not die of asphyxiation.”
“I knew it,” Georgie said. “Those were restraint marks on his wrists, weren’t they?”
“It appears so,” Stan nodded.
“How did you know about those?” Maggie asked, harshly.
“I noticed them when they took down the body,” Georgie said, trying to smile a little. But Maggie’s sour face sucked the urge right out of her.
“Well, we’ve got some information, too,” Georgie started to say before Aleta stepped on her foot. “Yeow!”
“Sorry, Georgie. Your foot got in the way,” Aleta smirked. “Yeah, Georgie swallowed a fly just now.”
“Eww,” Maggie grimaced.
Stan reacted exactly the way Aleta knew he would. He started to laugh. “Georgie, did you ever think that maybe that’s God’s way of asking you to be quiet?” Stan teased.
“Maybe,” she looked at her sister who gave her a sly wink. “It was gross. I’ll say that.”
“I’ve never had anything like that happen to me,” Maggie boasted.
Georgie had a million things pop into her mind to say in reply, all of them harsh, brash, and hostile. She opted to say nothing.
“So, what is your next step, Stan?” Georgie asked, looking past Maggie to her ex-husband.
“I need to talk with Veronica. She’d mentioned something about some strange characters that they had to ask to leave the property a few weeks ago. I’m hoping to get a description or something. It’s a long shot, but we’ve got to try.”
“Do you think it could have been an inside job?” Georgie prodded a little more.
“I don’t know. I don’t see anyone with a motive, but we haven’t spoken to everyone who works on the grounds,” Stan cleared his throat. “That’s going to be a task on its own.”
“Well, good luck,” Georgie said.
Stan didn’t reply but looked at her with those sexy blue eyes. Was he giving her that same “come hither” look she’d known for so long? Georgie was certain that he was giving her exactly that look.
“Let’s go to the gift shop. We’ll start there,” Stan said, unexpectedly, to Maggie.
“I’ll catch up with you,” she replied as she fidgeted with her camera.
“Good luck today, Maggie,” Aleta started walking in the direction of the orchard and the Slute farmhouse.
“Yes. Good luck,” Georgie turned to leave with her sister.
“Georgie, can I talk to you for a second?” Maggie asked.
Aleta raised her eyebrows but continued to walk away out of earshot as Georgie turned and looked at Maggie.
“Of course,” she replied politely.
Maggie looked back at Stan who was already almost at the gift shop, then checked where Aleta was, narrowing her eyes for a split second.
“I just think it’s time we clear the air,” Maggie started.
“Uhm, okay?”
“I understand that you and Stan have a history. But that was a long time ago and you’ve made your decision that you don’t want to get back together with him. Right?”
“Well, I don’t think we’ll get back together. But we have children, Maggie. We’ll always be together in a sense,” Georgie felt the same way she did about a year ago when she’d backed Pablo into a pole causing about two-hundred dollars worth of damage to his fender. That pole had just jumped out of nowhere, just like this conversation.
“Your children are grown. They don’t need to be clinging to some false hope that mommy and daddy are getting back together someday,” Maggie said, quietly. “If you are trying to prevent Stan from moving forward, well, I find that terribly selfish and just sad for someone your age.”
“Maggie, I’m not preventing Stan from doing anything. Just like I didn’t prevent him from leaving his three children and me to go off in search of prospecting. He made that decision all on his own,” Georgie could feel her blood pressure rising.
“That’s another thing. He’s told me all about it. He said you wouldn’t let him off the hook for it, even though he’s said he’s sorry a dozen times. Don’t you think it’s about time you let bygones be bygones?” Maggie spoke more loudly now, rolling her eyes at Georgie.
“I think this conversation is over, Maggie,” Georgie tugged at the puffy sleeves of her blouse.
“No, it isn’t. But you obviously don’t want to talk about it like grown women. Fine.” She slung her camera over her shoulder and flipped her plain, brown hair behind her. “I tried to let you bow out gracefully.”
“Bow out?”
“But you insist on being difficult,” Maggie folded her arms in front of her.
“Difficult?”
“Keep one thing in mind, Georgie. I’m not under your spell like Stan is. Your game won’t work on me.”
Before Georgie could reply, Maggie slammed the car door shut and quickly hurried away to catch up with Stan. Georgie stood there with her mouth hanging open for the second time that day.
“You better watch it or another fly is going to buzz in,” Aleta said as she inched her way back to Georgie’s side. “What was that all about?”
“I think I was just assaulted,” Geor
gie said.
“What?”
After repeating the conversation to Aleta, Georgie folded her arms and leaned against Pablo, not worrying if any of the rust from the swooshing tires would get transferred to her clothes.
“Now, I’m the one who is going to have a fly buzz into my mouth,” Aleta stared at her sister and then looked to see Maggie entering the gift shop.
“I’m not sure if I should laugh or cry,” Georgie said.
“Don’t cry. It isn’t worth crying over. But it is a head-scratcher, that’s for sure. Do you think Stan is feeding her some bad information?”
“You know Stan, Aleta. He’s not the kind of guy who likes drama,” Georgie started to walk towards the orchard but stopped. “I don’t feel like going in there. This is all too weird for me.”
“You want to give up? Don’t you think we are getting closer? We’ve got those initials carved in the tree to consider, and we still haven’t talked to Charlotte Slute.”
“I’m not sure, Aleta. This might be too much for me,” Georgie shook her head. “I’m shocked. That’s all I can say. Who does that? Who confronts a man’s ex-wife with the intention of causing problems? I might not be the easiest pill to swallow, but I don’t, intentionally, try to rub people the wrong way. Or do I?”
“You can’t be expected to act any differently than anyone else when it comes to seeing your ex-husband with someone else. This is the first time. You’d think that Stan would have explained that,” Aleta looked towards the gift shop and Georgie could read her mind.
“Don’t,” she stated, firmly. “Don’t even think about it.”
“She wanted to clear the air. Why didn’t she ask Stan to stick around for this little air-cleaning session?” Aleta huffed. “See, I knew there was something off about this woman. My gut told me so.”
“I’d like to get out of here. A change is as good as a rest,” Georgie said.
“I don’t blame you. Let’s go back to Betty’s and regroup. You’ll feel better after we get away from all this. You had Paula snap at you and now Maggie’s craziness. That’s a bit much to happen within half an hour,” Aleta soothed.
Back at the castle, Georgie decided she wanted a hot bath and some quiet. Aleta said she’d go see if she couldn’t scare up a couple more brownies from the diner and bring them back. But, even something as simple as a little quiet wasn’t going to evade Georgie for a few more minutes. The maid was making the bedroom.
