The Smoking Bun (Apple Orchard Cozy Mystery Book 10)

by Chelsea Thomas

  Teeny smiled, proud of herself. Miss May and I laughed, but my laughter masked my unease. No, I didn’t think Teeny had killed Buck…

  …but I wasn’t sure she could avoid looking or sounding guilty for much longer.

  16

  Cabin Fever

  One of the things that made Pine Grove great was that there was a wonderful supply of cute, affordable homes, all within walking distance of the town. Most people, when they moved to Pine Grove from New York City, like Hannah and Buck, insisted on procuring one of the houses closest to town. City transplants loved the idea of being able to walk everywhere, just like they could in the city. Plus, the houses surrounding Pine Grove’s quaint downtown were each old, unique, and charming.

  But unlike most city people, when Buck and Hannah moved up, they had not chosen one of those cute littles houses near town. Instead, they’d purchased a small log cabin down a gravel road all the way at the edge of the county line.

  As I drove the pickup down the gravel road toward Buck and Hannah’s cabin, Teeny and Miss May couldn’t get over their disbelief at the remote location of the house. “I knew the guy was weird,” said Teeny. “But this is extreme. I don’t think anyone has lived in this cabin for over fifty years, at least.”

  “I know,” said Miss May. “And this guy has to commute to Peter’s Land and Sea every day. That must take him twenty minutes!”

  “A twenty minute commute isn’t that much for people coming from New York City. When I worked in the city running my interior design business, I would sometimes travel one or even two hours to go meet a client at their home. Buck and Hannah were probably delighted by only having to travel twenty minutes — especially because there’s no traffic anywhere.”

  Teeny shook her head. “The city warps people’s brains. They pay insane prices to live in tiny shoeboxes with no windows. They spend five hours a day going back and forth from work. And all just so they can make money? Up here you can make way less money, live in a bigger house, and have more free time to spend watching your favorite shows!”

  “Don’t say that too loud,” said Miss May. “The people down in Manhattan will hear you.”

  Teeny shoved her head up into the front seat and looked over at me. “How did you find out where Buck and Hannah live again?”

  “Liz told me. She interviewed them in their cabin for an article in the Pine Grove Gazette when they moved to town. I thought I remembered seeing a photo of the happy couple at their rustic home, and I was right.”

  “Nice job, Chels,” said Teeny. “But do you think you can drive a little more gentle over this gravel? These bumps in the road are loosening my molar.” Teeny reached her mouth and wiggled her tooth. “Or maybe it’s always that loose. I should go to the dentist.”

  The log cabin was nestled in a dense patch of forest with a stone path leading from the front door, around a bend and over to the driveway. The three of us trekked up the path and around the corner. And that’s when we saw Hannah, sitting on the porch steps, smoking a cigarette. She took a long, slow drag, then exhaled a cloud of smoke with a deep sigh.

  Hannah looked over and watched as we approached. She didn’t stand, nor did she wave, nor did she look happy to see us. Suddenly my stomach started doing somersaults. I’d forgotten how much I hated questioning the spouses of the deceased. Mourning the loss of a loved one was always difficult, and that difficulty was multiplied tenfold when the people in your town suspected you of murdering the person you were mourning.

  Miss May stopped walking a few feet from Hannah, pressed her palms together and bowed her head. “Hannah. Hi. How are you? I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  Teeny and I murmured similar condolences.

  Hannah breathed out another cloud of smoke. “I feel like I’m not in my body. Like I’m incapable of feeling anything my body typically feels. There’s no hunger, no boredom, no curiosity. That’s what I miss the most. The curiosity… The desire to learn anything new about the world. Everything feels so… empty.” She looked up at us. “Have any of you ever lost your curiosity? Do you know how that feels?”

  Miss May and Teeny stammered and muttered more condolences. Meanwhile, I flashed back to the year my parents died. Had I lost my curiosity then? I didn’t think so.

  I’d moved in with Miss May and started working on the farm — my aunt held the firm belief that hard work was a panacea. When I wasn’t at the orchard, I’d been shuffled from one activity to another, from one class to another, from one grief counselor to another. I didn’t remember feeling a lack of curiosity. All I remembered was loss. Like every day I woke up and realized anew the absence of the people I loved. I felt bad for Hannah, or anyone else, going through that.

  I snapped back to the moment just in time to witness Miss May digging a pie from her purse and handing it to Hannah. Hannah accepted the pie and set it down on the steps beside her. “You fit that entire pie in your purse? Impressive.”

  “I’m the apple pie lady. It’s required that my purse accommodates my title.”

  Hannah let out a small laugh, then Miss May pressed on in a gentle tone. “This must be so hard for you. I’ve never been married so I could never understand what it feels like to lose a spouse. And he was your coworker too. Everywhere you go, you must see reminders of Buck. I’m so sorry that all we can offer to help are words and pie.”

  Hannah took another long drag. “I’m not reminded of Buck as much as you might think.” She ashed the cigarette in a little gold tray on her lap.

  I looked over at Miss May with intrigue. What was that supposed to mean?

  “How do you mean?” I asked Hannah.

  “Nothing. Nevermind.”

  “You can talk to us,” said Teeny in her most innocent voice. “Really. Tell us anything. We’re vaults of secrecy, all three of us.”

  Hannah stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray and stood up. “I don’t need to talk. I’m fine. Everything is fine.” Hannah cleared her throat and smoothed out her pants. “OK. Thank you for the apple pie. Sorry to rush you out like this but I just remembered I have a phone call with the funeral director. A lot of arrangements need to be made, you know? Thanks again.”

  Hannah hurried up the stairs toward the door. Miss May followed after Hannah as if to say something else, but my aunt was too slow.

  Hannah closed the door in Miss May’s face. Then she locked the deadbolt, and we could hear her footsteps thudding up the staircase to the second floor.

  “That was weird,” I said.

  Miss May nodded. “We need to find out more.”

  17

  Fries and Lies

  We stopped at Ewing’s Eats for a quick bite on our way from Hannah’s house back into town. Ewing’s was a side-of-the-road burger spot with a legendary reputation and food to match. The proprietor, Patrick Ewing, was a great guy. And there were three little red tables in the parking lot that were perfect for grabbing a casual lunch.

  When we arrived there was only one other car in the parking lot. It belonged to Rita, a barista at The Brown Cow. Rita was seated at one of the red tables, enjoying a burger and feeding the occasional French fry to her adorable toddler, Vinny Junior.

  I’d first gotten to know Rita when she was one of the “mean girls” in my high school. But when I moved back to town I had gotten to know her better through our first murder investigation and I realized she had matured into a nice lady. Rita could be rough around the edges from time to time but she had a good heart. And her baby was cuter than a cartoon Cupid.

  Rita was 100% Italian-American, with shiny, black hair and captivating green eyes. Little Vinny looked just like her, with the same eyes and a big, pouty mouth. And the two of them smiled wide as they shared their junk food on that beautiful fall day.

  Rita waved when she saw me, Teeny, and Miss May approaching from the parking lot.

  “Chelsea. Ladies. How are you? Long time. Here for some guilty snacking? Me too. These curly fries are ridiculous. Here. Eat one, eat one.”
>
  Rita shoved her basket of fries toward me. “No one has ever had to force me to eat a French fry,” I said. I grabbed a fry and popped it into my mouth. Teeny and Miss May did the same.

  “Wow,” said Teeny. “So good!”

  “You should ask Patrick what his secret is,” Miss May said. “I think he fries them in peanut oil and that makes them extra crispy. Something like that.”

  Teeny held up her hand. “Don’t know. Don’t care. I never need to know the magician’s secrets. I just want to get sawed in half and put back together again so I can go home and have a nice night’s sleep.”

  “How have you two been?” I asked Rita. “You look great.” I squatted down and babbled at little Vinny. “And you are just the cutest most handsome little man in Pine Grove. You look like you’re ready to put on a suit and tie and strut around your Manhattan office.”

  Rita rolled her eyes. “Don’t put any ideas in his head. I want this kid close to home.” She poked Vinny’s perfect little nose. “You feel free to achieve greatness, baby. But if you’re working in the city you’re visiting your mother every weekend. Starting on Thursday night. And you’re taking her to the Caribbean in December. That’s non-negotiable.”

  Vinny made a little baby noise and Rita gave him a stern look. “You better believe I’m serious.”

  Rita popped a pacifier in Vinny’s mouth and looked back over to us. “Unbelievable what happened with Buck over at Peter’s Land and Sea. First that place explodes in popularity with all those fancy ingredients. Then the guy turns up dead. I heard he was in the basement or something? You three need to solve this one fast. I’m not in the mood to have a killer walking the streets. It’s too stressful. But can I be honest? I think Buck’s food was just OK. Did you try it? Gourmet ingredients but it didn’t blow me away. Maybe those truffles were second-rate.”

  “Is there such a thing as a second-rate truffle?” I asked.

  Rita shrugged. “There’s a one to ten scale for everything. Even luxury items. You and me, we go on a yacht, it automatically seems nice and fancy ‘cuz it’s a yacht. But rich people go on a yacht, they see everything with a critical eye. The napkins aren’t folded right. The windows have streaks on them. Every room is a little too hot or a little too cold or the sun is too bright. For rich people, a yacht can be a one. Truffles operate the exact same way. I’m pretty sure of it.”

  Teeny rubbed her chin. “You’re right. I didn’t think about it because Petey never charges us. But those truffle dishes were so inexpensive. At most places, if you had just a drop or two of truffle oil, that adds five, six dollars to the price. But I don’t think they were doing that at Peter’s Land and Sea.”

  “Interesting,” said Miss May. “Maybe the restaurant wasn’t doing as well as thought. Just because someplace is crowded doesn’t mean it’s making money.”

  I pointed at Miss May. “True. Amazon lost millions of dollars before it turned a single penny of profit, and that website was doing countless transactions every day.”

  “Listen to you, business girl,” said Rita. “Knowing statistics about Amazon.”

  “I took a class in college,” I said, sheepishly, “and I’ve listened to a few business podcasts. It’s not that impressive.”

  “Yes it is,” said Teeny. “Chelsea is very smart. It’s annoying.”

  We all laughed, then Miss May took a step toward Rita and spoke in a softer voice. “Hey, let me ask you something… You’re single, right?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. Terminally single, if you know what I mean. Sorry. Dark humor. Not a ton of eligible bachelors in this area, though. And the ones that are here all like Chelsea.”

  “Oh, well…” I stammered, blushing and uncertain how to receive Rita’s comment. “What were you saying Miss May?”

  I wanted my aunt to bail me out of the awkward moment, but I also wondered about her line of questioning. Why did she care about Rita’s love life? Was Miss May moonlighting as an apple orchard-owning, mystery-solving, matchmaker on the side?

  “I know it’s hard to find a guy,” said Miss May. “But have you tried any of those apps? I’ve heard some success stories…”

  “I’m so happy I didn’t have to get on those apps to find Big Dan,” said Teeny. “I don’t come across well online. People need to see me and experience my charisma and beauty in person in order to love me. And I don’t think Big Dan would go on an online dating site if his life depended on it.”

  “You’re lucky, Teeny.” Rita’s shoulders slumped. “I’ve used all the sites. Every single one of them. One time I met a guy in Blue Mountain and he took me for a walk around some little dirty pond. But that’s about the best date I’ve been on since Vinny was born.”

  “This might seem strange,” said Miss May. “But did you ever see Buck on one of those dating sites?”

  Rita tossed a few curly fries and her mouth and continued her mouth full. “Oh yeah. He hit me up constantly for a date. ‘I love your eyes, girl.’ ‘I’ll cook for you, sweetheart.’ All that garbage. But I don’t want a man with tattoos. I don’t think tattoos are going to age well on anyone, personally.”

  “He was openly dating even though he was married ?” I asked.

  Rita shook her head. “Not married. Separated. He explained the whole story to me in a message online. ‘My wife and I can’t make it work. We’re separated. It’s headed toward divorce. Blah blah blah.’ It was all too complicated. Come to think of it, those complications were almost worse than the tattoos. And I like a man who can hold his own in the kitchen. Too bad.”

  Miss May, Teeny, and I exchanged knowing looks. Hannah had gotten weird back at the cabin. Had she almost slipped up and admitted she and Buck were on the outs?

  Rita noticed our glances and subsequent silence and she cracked a big smile. “Oh boy! That was a clue, wasn’t it? You didn’t know about Hannah and Buck splitting up!” Rita raised both fists in the air with triumph. “I helped an investigation. I’m one of the sleuths! Heck, maybe I even solved the case.” Rita leaned forward. “Do you think Hannah did it? She seems like a killer to me.”

  “I’m not sure what to think,” said Miss May. “But I’ve got lots of questions and I need answers. Fast.”

  18

  Dining and Dashing

  We took our burgers to go and jumped back in my pickup.

  I sped back toward town as the three of us discussed what to do next in our investigation. Rita’s information about Buck and Hannah’s separation was prime gossip. But more importantly, it was a breakthrough in the case. At least that’s how it felt.

  “Chelsea,” said Miss May. “Slow down. You’re going 50 in a 35!”

  “Let the girl drive,” said Teeny. “This could be a matter of life and death. Wait. Where are we going?”

  I gripped the wheel so hard it made my forearms tired. “I don’t know. But we’re going there fast.”

  Teeny took a bite of her burger. “I like the way you think. Drive, Speed Racer. Drive.”

  “You two need to relax. Maybe we should go back to the farm and get my van so I can drive,” said Miss May. “We need a plan. And a destination.”

  “I know,” I said. “But I feel so pumped right now. Hannah and Buck were separated. She totally got weird when we were talking back at her house, and I bet it’s because she was about to reveal the separation to us.”

  “I know,” said Teeny. “She went on and on with that speech about grief and not feeling things and losing her curiosity. Meanwhile, she’s not even with the guy anymore! And he’s trolling around for young moms on the Internet. Not only is this a breakthrough in the case, it’s an amazing source of protein for my gossip gremlin.”

  I glanced at Teeny in the rearview mirror. “Gossip gremlin?”

  “Yep,” said Teeny. “A gossip gremlin is a little gremlin that lives in your body and when you get a good piece of gossip, the gremlin eats it up.”

  “That’s… super creepy,” I said. “Does everyone have a gossip gremlin? Do I
have one?”

  “We all have gossip gremlins,” said Miss May. “But you know what we don’t have? A plan. And we’re still lacking a destination.”

  “Let’s go to the Dragonfly Inn,” I said. The Dragonfly Inn was Pine Grove’s only hotel and it just so happened to be owned and operated by Teeny’s gruff sister, Peach. “I have a feeling Buck might have been staying there during his separation. And if he was staying there, maybe Peach can tell us if anything suspicious happened in the days before the murder.”

  “That’s perfect,” said Teeny. “Peach has my DVD box set of the fourth season of Jenna and Mr. Flowers. I want it back.”

  “Haven’t you already seen it?” I asked.

  “Yeah but I don’t remember it,” Teeny said. “So hurry up!”

  We entered the lobby of the inn to find it completely empty. The phone was ringing. A small TV played an episode of Father Brown in the corner. And a steaming cup of coffee rested on the counter near Peach’s chair.

  Teeny looked around and gulped. “Peach isn’t here. She might have been abducted. The killer who murdered Buck took my sister! Oh poor Peach! Why her? She was too young. I mean, not that young. Older than me. But still kind of young! And I have no idea where she put those DVDs. Now I’ll never get them back!”

  A grizzled smoker’s voice rang out from the back room. “Calm down, Teeny. I’m right back here. Sometimes you are such a walking panic attack.” Peach shuffled into the lobby holding a big bowl of cereal and eating it with a spoon. “I was just getting my midmorning snack. They say you need to eat six times a day to get skinny. I eat 10 times a day but it doesn’t seem to be helping.”

  Peach settled into her chair with a groan. She was heftier than Teeny, wearing jeans and an oversized cat sweater. But she had Teeny’s sparkling blue eyes and mischievous energy.