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Sour Cherry Turnover

Page 14

by P. D. Workman


  “He already has her name from the accident forms,” Vic pointed out. “He’s the one who isn’t sharing information.”

  “Oh, yeah. Well… he can’t, really.”

  “But we’ve got her name, so at least let’s do an internet search. She’s bound to have social media accounts that say something about who she is and what she does.”

  “You think if she’s involved with one of the clans she’s going to say that on Facebook?”

  “Well, maybe not that,” Vic said, “but she said she’s a hunter, which would make me think she isn’t with the clans.”

  “That could have been misdirection. Or she might be… hunting people.” Erin remembered Beaver chewing her gum, clearly enjoying winding up the drug dealer, and then later grinning away as Erin and Vic tried to figure out what she meant by saying she was a hunter. She shuddered.

  “A hit man?” Vic said skeptically, “I wouldn’t think so. Those kind of people don’t generally go around announcing what they are. Let’s just look.”

  Erin couldn’t see any harm in looking the woman up, especially if Terry already knew who she was. “Okay, fine. Let’s see who she is.”

  Vic eagerly pulled out her tablet and tapped in a search. “I’m going to assume that Rohilda is spelled just the way it sounds…”

  “I don’t have any idea. It should give a suggestion if not.” Erin waited for the results.

  “There are some news articles,” Vic announced. She tapped on one, and her eyes skimmed back and forth as she read the page. She started to laugh.

  Erin relaxed. Not a hit man, then. At least they didn’t have to worry about that.

  “She’s a treasure hunter. She’s not hunting animals or people. She’s hunting for treasure or artifacts.”

  “The little scamp. Why didn’t she just tell us that?”

  “Because it was more fun to keep us guessing, obviously.”

  Erin shook her head. “What a brat!”

  Vic was chuckling. “Well, it made our evening more entertaining.” She scrolled down the article, her eyes wandering over it. “So… what do you think she’s doing in Bald Eagle Falls?”

  Erin considered. “Good question… but you get them in this area sometimes, don’t you? With all of the mines and the possibility of Confederate gold. I remember talking about that when I first opened up the bakery. Remember the map of Clementine’s that we found in the recycling?”

  Vic nodded. “Yeah, that’s right. That’s one of the fun things about spelunking around here, the idea that one day you might run across a treasure that no one else has seen in a hundred years. That there is still a big haul just sitting out there somewhere, untouched. I guess that must be what Beaver is here looking for.” Vic grimaced. “I really don’t like calling her that. It seems disrespectful.”

  “It’s what she wanted to be called. You’ve had experience with people who won’t call you by the name you want to be called.”

  “I do at that,” Vic admitted.

  “I think she enjoys making people uncomfortable, don’t you? The way she was acting when she rear-ended that drug dealer. Making us try to figure out what kind of a hunter she is. She likes stirring the pot and then sitting back to see how people react.”

  “Do you think she did rear-end him on purpose?” Vic asked.

  “I don’t know. It certainly makes me wonder.”

  “That’s crazy.” Vic grinned. “She’s quite the woman.”

  “I don’t think she’s as crazy as she would like us to think.”

  “No. I agree with you there. It seems very calculated.”

  “With all of these new people around town, I thought she was one of the clans. I really did. It’s a relief that she’s just a regular person. Or however much of a regular person she can be as a treasure hunter. I think all of those people are a little bit crazy.”

  “Maybe you have to be in order to believe there’s some wonderful treasure buried around here, that if you can just find it, you’ll be set for the rest of your life. It’s exciting if you believe it. If you don’t believe it, then it’s just a dream and there’s really no point. Unless you really just like crawling around in caves.”

  Erin’s goosebumps returned. She shivered from deep down in her stomach and tried to force her mind away from her cave experiences and pretend that she was only thinking about Beaver.

  “Sorry,” Vic said.

  “I’m fine,” Erin brushed off her concern. “That’s all in the past. I don’t ever have to go into another cave again if I don’t want to.”

  “No. I just wish… you hadn’t been through all of that and you were interested in going spelunking with me. I think it’s really interesting.”

  “That’s fine. You can go with Willie to any cave you want. I’m just not interested.”

  “When he took us together, you did okay at that.”

  Erin had gone with Vic, with Willie as her guide, back when she was trying to prove to herself that she could and wanting to impress Willie. Now that Willie and Vic were together… she didn’t have anything to prove to him. He couldn’t care less whether she wanted to crawl around in the caves. He could take Vic into his mine or exploring other caves and it didn’t bother her one bit. In fact, she enjoyed it.

  “I guess we’d better be getting to bed,” Erin looked at the time on her phone. “In spite of all of the potential excitement tonight, nothing actually happened, and we need to be up as usual tomorrow morning.”

  “I’ll just go say goodnight to Jeremy, then I’ll head out.”

  Erin nodded. Vic knocked softly on Jeremy’s door and then poked her head in.

  “Hey, Jeremy. I’m just knocking off.”

  Erin couldn’t make out his murmured reply. She looked over her lists for the next day and carefully layered them into a pile. Whatever was going on in Bald Eagle Falls, she certainly wasn’t going to solve all of its problems. She would leave the detecting to Terry and the police department.

  Melissa was at the bakery at opening the next morning, her curls practically bristling as she waited to gossip with Erin and Vic. She looked like she’d been waiting all night and could barely contain herself.

  “You were at the restaurant last night,” she said. “What do you think?”

  “Um… about what?”

  “About Adele and Rudolph, obviously,” Melissa said irritably. “They were together at the restaurant. You were there, so dish.”

  “There’s nothing to dish,” Erin said, raising her hands in a shrug. “We weren’t sitting with her. We couldn’t hear anything they discussed.”

  “They’re still married,” Melissa pointed out, as if Erin might have missed this point. “If they have been apart since before she moved into town, then why are they not divorced? Why isn’t he her ex-husband instead of her husband?”

  “Not everybody wants to rush right into divorce,” Erin said uncomfortably. “Some people do a trial separation… decide whether it’s really what they want, or whether they might want to get back together instead.”

  “And he does, doesn’t he? He wants to get back together, and Adele said she didn’t, but she was sitting with him at the restaurant. Just the two of them, holding hands. You don’t hold hands with your ex.”

  “He isn’t her ex, you just said that.”

  “I know that!” Melissa nodded emphatically, her dark curls bouncing all over. “That’s what I’m saying! They’re still married and they’re still holding hands. What have they been doing since they separated? It’s like… what if he’s been undercover and it was all just a hoax, being apart. What if he’s finished whatever he was doing, and now he wants to get back together again, because they didn’t really break up, it was just because of his job.”

  Erin tried to follow the convoluted logic. “You think… he’s an undercover cop? Is that what Terry said?”

  “No, no!” Melissa flushed red. “He didn’t tell me anything. I know he looked Rudolph up, but he wouldn’t tell me anything about
it and didn’t leave any reports to be filed. But why didn’t he? Is he trying to keep something from me?”

  Terry knew he had a couple of leaks in the department, and Erin figured he knew exactly who they were. He probably just didn’t want Melissa spreading the results of whatever searches he had done far and wide.

  “Well, if he didn’t tell you what the results were, you can’t assume that Rudolph is undercover. Maybe he’s just what he appears to be. Some bored playboy who thought he’d try to get back together with his wife.”

  “I don’t think so. I think he’s up to something. He must have been undercover. Otherwise, why would she just accept him back? I sure wouldn’t take my husband back if I thought he’d been fooling around on me. I’d want him out of my life for good.”

  “But we don’t know that’s what happened.”

  “Have you seen the guy? Of course that’s what happened. He’s fooling around, cheating on her, and then he expects her to take him back again. And instead of telling him to hit the road and not bother her, she’s holding hands with him!”

  “So, which do you think? That he’s a playboy or an undercover cop?”

  Melissa spread her hands wide, exasperated. “How am I supposed to know? Terry should have told me something.”

  Not if he wanted it kept quiet.

  “How about the other guy?” Erin asked, on a whim. “You know, the one that Rohilda Beaven rear-ended. Did you find anything out about him?”

  “Bo Biggles?” Melissa asked, then laughed. “I can’t believe that’s actually his name. Can you imagine walking around with a moniker like that?”

  “Bo Biggles?” Erin repeated. “Yeah, I would think he would have changed it!”

  “Well, Rohilda goes by Beaver, so what are you going to do with that?” Vic said.

  “Beaver?” Melissa apparently hadn’t heard this tidbit. “For a woman? I can’t imagine being taken seriously with a name like Beaver. She doesn’t use it for real life, right? Just for a silly nickname. I mean, you couldn’t rent a house with a name like Beaver. You’d be a laughingstock.”

  “This Bo Biggles,” Erin tried to redirect Melissa, “he’s a drug dealer?”

  “Terry told you that?” Melissa asked.

  Erin evaded the question. “It was pretty obvious.”

  “Is he with one of the clans?” Vic asked. “Is he with Dysons? It gives me the creeps, thinking that they’re in town.”

  Melissa shook her head. “No, I think he’s with your clan. Jacksons.”

  “Not my clan,” Vic countered. “I’m not part of that family anymore. Remember, they disowned me. I couldn’t be part of it if I wanted to.”

  “But it’s still your clan. They’re still your family, whether you stay with them or not.”

  Vic shook her head. “I got away from all of that when I left home.”

  Melissa sighed loudly. “Fine then, Bo is with the clan you used to belong to. The Jacksons. But really, you can never leave the clan,” Melissa said ominously. “It doesn’t matter if you want out, they’ll follow you and they’ll make sure—”

  “Melissa,” Erin interrupted. “What did you say you wanted to order? Are you looking for something for the department or for yourself?”

  Melissa looked at the display case, her mouth open. She looked at Vic as if she were going to continue the conversation, then apparently caught Erin’s warning look and decided she didn’t want to be thrown out with no one to gossip with and no baking.

  “Maybe a muffin for lunch,” Melissa said. “No turnovers today?”

  Erin had pulled a couple of batches of turnovers out of the freezer, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to make any more since Inglethorpe’s death. She remembered him asking her about turnovers, and then the shock of walking into the crime scene and thinking the blood was cherry pie filling. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to make cherry turnovers again. Hopefully, she’d be able to bring herself to make blueberry or apple.

  “Sorry, nothing right now. They’re time intensive, so I have to find the time to make them. Not like muffins, where you can just mix up the batter and pour it into the cups.”

  “They sure were good. I hope you make some more soon.”

  Vic looked in Erin’s direction. “We’ll have to see.”

  They managed to keep Melissa focused on choosing the baking she wanted to buy, and then hustled her toward the door as other customers arrived. Melissa went, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to speak freely in front of others. Melissa wouldn’t gossip about police files with just anyone. Erin was the one who solved mysteries and had some influence over Terry. Erin was practically family.

  Erin sighed as she and Vic dealt with the next few customers, until it was quiet and they were left alone together again for a few moments.

  “So,” Vic drawled, lengthening her words. “Just what do we think about Adele and Rudolph?”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  E

  rin dreamed she was back at the bakery. At first, she thought she was in her own kitchen and she looked around, trying to orient herself, but nothing was in the place it was supposed to be. Then she realized she could not be in Auntie Clem’s kitchen, but rather was in The Bake Shoppe.

  “I don’t know where you put anything,” Erin muttered, turning around again and trying to decide where to begin.

  She went to the fridge and opened it to see what had been prepped. She and Vic always made some batters and doughs ahead so that it would be quick to get started in the morning and the flours would have had a chance to soak and soften. But there was nothing in the fridge.

  Except… maybe there was. When Erin looked more closely, she realized that her rolling pin had been left in the fridge. She reached in and grabbed it. The marble was as cold as ice, and when she turned it and examined it more closely, she realized that it was sticky with cherry sauce. But the smell was not the smell of cherries. Erin gagged at the cloying, coppery smell. It wasn’t cherry sauce at all.

  She turned around and saw the body lying on the floor. It wasn’t Mr. Inglethorpe this time, but someone else who was vaguely familiar.

  Even though she was starting to realize that it was a dream, she tried to identify the shape on the floor. Who was it? Who had Erin hurt this time?

  She stepped closer, her shoes sticking to the floor like they did in a movie theater.

  “Mr. Inglethorpe…?”

  There was white powder everywhere. Erin tried to avoid getting any of it on her. Had someone opened a bag of flour? Everything was going to be contaminated and she wouldn’t be able to serve anything safe.

  “It’s not flour,” Vic laughed. “It was never flour.”

  “Okay. I think… it’s time to go back to Auntie Clem’s. I don’t want to be here anymore.”

  Erin tried to leave, but her eyes were drawn again to the figure on the floor. She should have recognized that uniform. It was as familiar to her as the dimple in his cheek. Erin crouched down beside him. “Terry? No! Terry, what happened? Who did this? Who could have done this?”

  She couldn’t rouse herself from the dream. She tried to pull herself from its grip, but she couldn’t escape.

  “Help me! I need help! It’s Terry!”

  “What’s wrong? Erin? Erin, are you okay?”

  Erin tried to pull away from the grip on her arm. Then she jumped, feeling the sensation of falling. And then her eyes were open, and she was lying on her bed, awake, staring up at Jeremy’s face. He looked anxious, his mouth turned down and his eyes squinted at her in concern.

  “Are you awake? Erin, are you okay?”

  “What happened?”

  “Nothing happened. You were just calling out. I thought… I didn’t know whether I should wake you or not.”

  Erin gripped Jeremy’s hand. “Yes. Yes, I couldn’t get out of it.”

  She didn’t let go of Jeremy’s hand. He looked at her for a minute, then sat down on the edge of the bed.

  “It must have been prett
y nasty.”

  “Yes…” Erin was breathing as evenly as she could, but couldn’t seem to quite catch her breath and calm herself down. Her heart was thumping wildly. “It was Terry…” She gulped. “I guess it’s normal to have nightmares after something like that.”

  “Like that? You mean the murder?”

  Erin nodded. “Yeah. It was… kind of a gruesome scene.”

  “That would be tough,” Jeremy admitted. “Sometimes… things stick with you. Even when you think it should just be a minor thing. When it’s something bigger like that, it must be worse.”

  Erin nodded. She could feel Orange Blossom sleeping curled up next to her leg, and she reached out and patted him and scratched his ears. Orange Blossom awoke and started purring loudly.

  “But Terry’s okay,” Jeremy said. “Nothing is going to happen to him. Everybody is safe. You can just take a breath and relax. Go back to sleep.”

  “Right,” Erin agreed. “I’ll just close my eyes and go back to sleep.”

  No problem. She could do that. She did that every night. It was simple as pie.

  Cherry pie?

  Erin shuddered. She looked at Jeremy. She was still holding on to his hand. Probably harder than was comfortable for him. But it was comforting to her and she wasn’t ready to let go.

  “It will be okay, Erin,” Jeremy said. “Really. Your friend is okay. There’s nothing wrong with him. If you just go back to sleep, in the morning everything will be fine, and you’ll feel much better. Okay?”

  “You’re just a kid, what do you know?” Erin laughed.

  Jeremy looked at her for a minute, not answering.

  “I’m just joking,” Erin said uncomfortably.

  “Just close your eyes. Go back to sleep.”

  Erin took in a long breath and blew it out very slowly. She was just starting to relax and to quiet her mind when the phone rang.

  Both she and Jeremy jumped.

  “Oh, no.” Erin looked at the phone, afraid of what she was going to see. Terry calling her to tell her that something was wrong? Vic? Somebody calling to tell her that something had happened to Terry?

 

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