by Sheri Richey
He had driven out to Eagle Bay Road and looked at the hidden boat launch. Under the beam of his flashlight, he saw fresh tire ruts. The flatbed was gone. He was sure he had seen it, so the county must have pulled it out and taken it to Paxton. He would never know if there was anything on it now. Maybe they found the fireworks and had decided to keep it quiet. If so, it would come out eventually. If it wasn’t there why take the flatbed away at all?
Pride was poison to law enforcement. You had to accept what happened and face it. Sure, it would have been uncomfortable to report to the community that county products were stolen right out from under the sheriff’s nose when he was on duty at the site. Conrad wouldn’t have hidden it though. He knew those things always came out, and it was harder to face if you looked like you were trying to deceive. Bobby Bell had more pride than good sense.
Conrad had driven by Saucy’s house a dozen times throughout the night and never saw anything. Saucy appeared to be home, his truck was parked in the driveway again rather than the garage, but he saw no movement. He drove up and down Fennel Street and never saw a white truck in any of the alleys. He accomplished nothing, and the niggling was not calmed. Maybe it was time to talk to someone about it.
Conrad took off his coat and heard chatter down at dispatch but he didn’t feel like joining in. He went straight to his coffee maker, and the ritual began. Once the cinnamon and French vanilla creamer were mixed to perfection, he breathed deeply. He wasn’t sure which was better, the smell or the taste. He was grateful he had the benefit of both.
Once his computer was up, he looked for news on the county fireworks and found nothing. The newspapers were reporting the unfortunate cancellation but must not have gotten any information before they went to press. He did see a comment on one of the articles where citizens were sharing the rumor that the fireworks were stolen. There had been a lot of local thefts in the Paxton area recently and that further fueled the rumor. With public speculation, the press would demand more. A news release was probably imminent.
Wink’s shift didn’t start until evening so Conrad would update him when he came in. He was going to move on after that. Maybe his barometer was off this time. Everything had seemed peaceful last night and there were other things to worry about in Spicetown.
Conrad checked on the police reports from last night and took a stroll around downtown. Spicetown was small. Small enough that he felt like he knew everyone, yet just big enough that a stranger passed by and made him wonder. There were some folks from Paxton or other neighboring towns that visited regularly and even some tourist once in a while, so the downtown did show new faces.
Cora had told him that some people thought they made spices here and were coming because they felt the quality was superior. It was one of her pet peeves. She felt it was false advertising, and it had put her at odds with the Chamber of Commerce president when she objected to some of their town marketing that implied spices originated there.
Cora loved to tell the story about how Spicetown was named for a man named John Spicer, who had worked on the railroad. After several years of traveling through the area, he picked this spot to call his home. He was an entrepreneur and used inventive ways to attract others traveling the railroad to join him, eventually growing enough that they made the railroad stop there. The depot was labeled Spicer’s, which eventually grew into Spicetown.
The townspeople had enjoyed naming the streets to coincide with spices which created a trend for the businesses to join in. Somehow over the years, Spicetown made the map and the eclectic spicy choices drew some curious visitors.
Cora had always wanted to erect a statue of John Spicer and tell his story, but the Council had always stopped her. They claimed they didn’t want to spend the money, but Cora told him that they wanted the truth kept quiet. She felt that Miriam Landry, the Chamber of Commerce president, had them on her shady side.
Either way, the folks of Spicetown did know the truth because the mayor told them every chance she got. Conrad had to chuckle just thinking about it. Cora Mae could sure get riled up once in a while.
Strolling down Fennel Street, he looked in the storefronts and saw the bustle of yesterday had died. The Fennel Street Bakery had a couple of coffee drinkers and Ivy’s Oils & Organics was empty. The Caraway Cafe did have several tables filled, and he was ready for lunch. Patting his belly, he thought he might need to eat a little lighter today. He had snacked all evening on junk food and was still feeling it. He couldn’t cook anything so he almost always dined out. He argued it was good exposure for the community to see him, but in reality, he could only heat soup. A man got tired of soup.
Waving to the hostess when he entered, he found a table near the front window to watch street traffic. Pulling his glasses from his shirt pocket, he perused the menu for something that he could categorize as light cuisine. Skipping over the salads completely, he decided on a grilled fish and waited for the server.
Several of the sidewalk strollers waved to him as they passed. Most were familiar people, but then he saw a man passing the Fennel Street Bakery that he didn’t know. The man was short and slight in build but stomping out each step as though his destination would be reached quicker that way. His thin black hair covered his ears and out-shined his weather-beaten black leather jacket. Conrad couldn’t decide if he was angry, late or just wanting to get out of the cold. He didn’t glance in any of the storefronts so he had some destination in mind. Conrad was so engrossed in the deliberate little man that he didn’t notice the waiter had approached.
“Chief?” Conrad jerked his head to the left and saw Georgia Marks’ son in a serving apron with an order pad in hand. “Are you ready to order?”
“Hey, Jason,” Conrad said and then looked out the window again to keep track of the little man. “Yes, I’ll have the grilled fish platter with beans and slaw. Water to drink. Thanks.”
“Do you know that guy?” Jason asked when he saw the man Conrad was watching.
“No, I’ve not seen him before.”
“Well, he’s been around for a couple of weeks now. I see him come and go every few days, but I don’t know him. Maybe he’s new in town.” Jason slipped his pen back in his apron pocket. “I’ll put your order in. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Jason,” Conrad said nodding without looking at him. The man had crossed the street now and was walking up to Denise Ivy’s store. There was no hesitation in his step so that was his intended destination. He could see in one window of Ivy’s Oils & Organics from his seat but could only tell that Denise didn’t come out from behind the counter to greet her visitor. Conrad got up and switched to the other side of his window table so he could comfortably keep an eye on her door.
Conrad’s meal arrived, and the man was still in Ivy’s. If he remained once he finished, he was going over there to check it out. As he trained his eyes on Ivy’s store entrance, Cora Mae Bingham crossed his line of vision and waved through the window at him. He returned the greeting and was unsurprised when she rounded his table minutes later to seat herself across from him.
“Hi, Connie. Mind if I sit with you while you eat?”
“Of course not, Cora. Are you having lunch?”
“No, actually I was looking for you. Georgie told me you were down here.”
Conrad didn’t have to ask how she knew that. He had told Georgie he was going to eat but suspected his waiter had texted his mom to report he was serving the Chief. There were few secrets in a small town.
Conrad nodded his head as he chewed and Cora told Jason to bring her a cup of tea.
“So, who are we staking out?” Cora said in an exaggerated whisper.
Conrad smiled and waited to swallow to reply. “Just keeping an eye on Denise’s place over there. Saw a strange little guy go in there quite a while ago and he’s not come out.”
“Hmm,” Cora said. “I should have brought my binoculars.”
Conrad strangled a little on his last bite and reached for his water g
lass. Cora gave him an impish grin in apology.
“I wouldn’t expect Denise to have a lot of business from strange little men. Her products are geared more towards women and the store is tiny. It wouldn’t take long to see everything in there.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Conrad said.
“Here comes Saucy. He looks like he is going in Denise’s too.”
“Well, he peeked in the door and then backed away. He’s headed past now. I wonder why,” Conrad said trailing off into thought. “Why were you looking for me?”
“Oh, just being nosey,” Cora said as she accepted her tea from Jason and added sugar. “I want to hear what happened with the fireworks. Rumors abound and I’d like to know the truth.”
“I don’t know much,” Conrad said, looking first at Cora and back to the street. “You know Bobby and I don’t chat much but he did call me Tuesday night and tell me someone lifted the merchandise. That’s about all I know.”
“Stolen, I’d heard some talk of that. Odd thing to steal, isn’t it?”
“Sure is,” Conrad said pushing his plate to the side. “Can’t imagine what anyone wanted with them unless they just wanted to stop the display from happening or maybe were just pulling a prank.”
“Pretty expensive prank,” Cora huffed. “Those big shows don’t come cheap. I was relieved the city didn’t have to pay for any of it.
“I can imagine.”
“I also wanted to ask you about Bryan Stotlar.” Conrad looked directly at Cora then, surprised by the request.
“Bryan? What about him? He seems like a good guy. No trouble from him.”
“Well, my assistant, Mandy, had a date with him on New Year’s and I’m just curious. I don’t really know anything about him at all and”
“And you know something about everyone,” Conrad chuckled.
“Yes,” Cora said demurely and stirred her tea. “I’m also being a bit of a fill-in mother hen. I love Amanda dearly and I don’t want her”
“To get mixed up with the wrong kind of guy. Yeah, I know.”
“Well, that’s why I’m asking you. Because you do know,” Cora said emphatically, trying to catch Conrad’s eye as his focus was trained across the street.
“Nothing to tell, really. Bryan’s a good kid. Never caused any trouble. He’s trying to make a go of it in this town, just like Denise there,” Conrad said pointing to Ivy’s Oils & Organics. “That’s tough on kids. He took his folks dying pretty hard, but he’s starting to put it back together.”
“He’s a very quiet young man. Does he talk to you?”
“Yes, he’s not talkative just to hear himself, but he’s not hard to talk to. He took some trees over to a couple of houses this year that had folks who weren’t able to get out. He set them up in the living room for them. You know the Winklemans out on Bay Leaf?” Cora nodded. “He took one to them and over to Ethel Baccus. I don’t think he even charged them anything. He seems like a good guy. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”
“Probably not,” Cora said as she wrinkled her forehead. “I had him as a student and can’t remember one thing about him. It’s really bugging me, too. That never happens.”
Conrad smiled and turned to look at Cora. He knew that puzzled look. There was no point in telling her she couldn’t possibly remember every student because indeed she could. “He was probably just an average student, just quiet enough to stay off your radar.”
“I guess,” Cora said unconvincingly and pushed her chair back. “Why don’t we go take a look around Ivy’s Oils & Organics!”
Conrad nodded and Jason brought over his check.
Bundling up at the door to leave, Conrad turned to Cora. “Do you have a good reason to go in there?”
“Well,” Cora glanced upward in thought. “I might need a birthday gift for a dear old friend?”
“Perfect,” Conrad said yanking the door open for Cora to exit. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Seven
Bryan had deliveries on the way. He had used his profits from Christmas tree sales to invest in items to expand the tree farm into a nursery. Laying out his plans on the kitchen table, Bryan checked over his pending orders and expected deliveries. This was the first step toward his new goals and his father would be proud to know that.
His father had been the one that always had a vision, always could see years down the road. His mother lived for today. Unfortunately, Bryan was like his mother as a young man and his father had always been concerned about his future.
With both of them gone, he thanked his father every day for foreseeing he would need help in his future. He was going to pay him back by picking up the pieces and making something of this farm. Yearning for his father’s advice wouldn’t help; he already had it all in his memories. Time to put that advice to use.
When Bryan had been a young man, his father had asked him to plant an empty field on their property with Christmas trees. He told Bryan that he thought people in town would want to go back to the real thing in the future and the trees would be ready by then.
At the time, shiny tinsel and colored artificial trees were all the rage. People even purchased trees that already had lights on them. Everyone wanted the easy flashy fakes, not the traditional, but his father had told him that these trends never last. ‘People veer off for a few years, but then they always come back to the place where their heart is.’ They would want a real tree in their home with popcorn and homemade ornaments again.
Bryan had laughed at him, teased him, told him only the birds and the deer would thank him, but in the end, he had planted all the trees.
He knew now his father had been planning a future for him. His father had already been ill at that time and had to know he wouldn’t be cutting and selling Christmas trees in ten years. Bryan cut hundreds every year and planted new ones. He tied them and set them up in front of the barn each November for sale. He worked hard to keep up with demand and the last few years had let the public on the lots to pick their own if they wanted. He was the only Christmas tree farm in town and everyone wanted one of his trees. His father had been right.
This trend would not last forever though. His father had always said interests were cyclical and he must change with the current cultural trends to stay successful.
Growing up, their farm had seen many changes. They had raised rabbits, goats, chickens and horses. They had grown vegetables, sold prepared canned preserves, offered a petting zoo for kids with tours for families and horseback trail rides. His father was always altering their life to stay afloat, yet the farm was still the farm.
With his parents’ illness and passing, Bryan had been overwhelmed with the demands of the farm and had sold some livestock for immediate cash. Once he realized that he had to make his own way, he had tried to channel his father and focused on his future in a way he didn’t know he could.
He began to grow herbs to sell to local restaurants and now that eating healthy had become popular, he sold some of his plants to specialty stores in town. He had begun drying some and packaging them to add to his spring shopping stand that he would open in March at the greenhouse.
The farm was a couple of miles from Spicetown and he had never imagined that people would drive out there to shop, but he had underestimated how powerful public trends could be. Once the weather improved, he would have more time to work on the farm because he didn’t have to take products to town. People would come to him.
He now sold fresh eggs, fresh vegetables and herbs, along with bales of pine straw for use in landscaping. That is how he got the idea to start growing ornamental trees and bushes to expand on the concerns people had with maintaining their yards. He had more pine straw than anyone would need from the Christmas trees already, but he had never grown anything strictly for decoration. This required some study, and he had been researching the best plants and placement for landscaping yards. He could do that work himself, but not alone. He’d have to hire help to set out the plants once he sold someone on h
is landscaping designs. That was the only part that held back his plan.
Bryan wanted the business to grow. He wanted to capitalize on the current trends that brought people back to nature, but he had always done everything alone and on his own. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be anyone else’s boss.
He had a trip to town planned this afternoon to take herbs into the Ole’ Thyme Italian Restaurant and Ivy’s Oils & Organics. Denise Ivy was selling some of his small potted mints in her store on consignment. She was new in business and she was struggling so he hadn’t asked her to buy them. She took care of them and he swapped them out regularly to make sure they always looked fresh. He had hoped her business would prosper and he might be able to introduce other products for sale there so he could expand his sales, but it was too soon to know yet. She did have a business that could blend well with his and he had considered offering her space in his as well. He didn’t know if he could collaborate with someone else though.
§
Just as Cora and Conrad crossed the street, Saucy came out of the Fennel Street Bakery and started walking toward Ivy’s Oils & Organics. Conrad guessed he planned to return once the stranger left just as they had so he called out a greeting to him and they waited for him to approach.
“Hey, Saucy. How are you?”
“Doing great, Chief, Mayor. Getting some exercise to walk off the banana muffin I just ate at the bakery.”
“Well, we are getting ready to go into Ivy’s. Want to join us?” Cora stretched out her arm towards the door to invite him.
Saucy seemed stymied by this and unsure what the right answer was. “Sure, I’ll join you,” he stammered. “What are we shopping for today?”
“Cora has a gift she’s looking for and I’m just along for the ride,” Conrad said patting Saucy on the back as he took up the rear when they walked through the door. “I don’t know that I’ve been in here since she opened.”
Denise turned at the counter in surprise when the bell over the door rang and they all walked in. She walked around the counter and pushed her long blonde hair back nervously. “Wow, I’m honored,” she chirped in delight. “The Mayor and the Police Chief, both in my little old store. I couldn’t be prouder. Mr. Salzman, did you bring me new customers? What can I help you with today?”
