The Deadly Jellybean Affair

by Carrie Marsh

“What else could it be?” Mary mused. “I’ll bet when Andrew gets the autopsy results, he’ll find that Summer didn’t just die of hypothermia.” With a grunt, Mary lifted the big book off her lap and set it on the counter. Within seconds, Alabaster was up, tenderly tip-toeing onto the open book to pad around in a complete 360-degree turn and finally snuggle down onto the open pages.

  So, who is Summer Moran?

  “I’ll tell you what I’ve heard. But then I’ll tell you what I know.” Mary took a sip of her tea. She liked the bitter taste of black teas and never added even so much as a granule of sugar or a drop of milk. When she set the mug back down, her shoulders slumped.

  “I was told that Summer moved to Morhollow because she had an affair with a married fellow over in Portage, about twenty-five miles from here.” Mary looked out the window. “From what I heard, once the news spread, she had nightly break-ins to her car, her apartment had rocks thrown through the windows, and she was harassed at her job that was at some car rental place or something.”

  Mary took another sip of tea.

  “Why no one went after the dirty-dog cheating on his wife, I don’t know. But it was either move out here to live with her cousin and his wife or stay in Portage and risk getting hurt or worse. Perhaps she should have stayed there.”

  It wouldn’t be like she was the first person to have an affair. Why Chesterton next door told me the feline down a couple blocks and over a few more had been witness to his master’s indiscretions for over several years.

  “Chesterton is an alley cat, and he likes to tell stories,” Mary stated like a strict task-master.

  All I’m saying is if that were true, Summer wouldn’t be the first person to do it.

  “You’re right.” Mary nodded. “And I’m always looking for the seedier aspect of things. It is very possible that Summer Moran got drunk or high, left whoever she was with, got lost in the woods and staggered around in the foliage for a while before tripping and cracking her head on something.”

  That is probably more like what happened.

  “That could explain some of the residue I saw.” Mary put her index finger to her chin. “If she was as troubled as everyone said she was, maybe her dying was a true metaphysical explosion. All the sewage inside her came out in one big pop after she clunked herself on the noggin.”

  Yes, Alabaster concurred.

  “But I didn’t see any blood on her head,” Mary mused. “I saw some bruises or maybe they were just shadows from all the debris that was around her. I guess I didn’t get as good a look at things as I thought I had.”

  Alabaster flicked his tail.

  “So, when Summer came to me, asking if I was hiring for the shop, you can imagine I was floored. A beading shop for this hoochie-coochie? Kind of a boring scene from what I had heard she was used to.” Mary leaned on the counter. “But she told me she had created a few necklaces for a couple of girlfriends of hers back in Portage and liked the meditative aspect of beading. I thought that was pretty profound for a girl who was supposed to be such a partier.”

  You saw something else in her, didn’t you? Alabaster’s purring mechanism had kicked in.

  “I did. When she said that, I thought the stories couldn’t all be true.”

  But?

  “But she did wear clothes that left little to the imagination. It wasn’t hard for her to get male attention and she did welcome it. She did have that horrible tattoo on her arm. It was an alligator in a tight “S” on the top of her arm. I wanted to ask her of all things why an alligator. But looks like now that will forever be a mystery.”

  Some things are better left unknown, Alabaster mused.

  “I guess. But I hired her. I told her to start when we opened and that she’d have to learn all the products, attend some of the classes. It would be baptism by fire. I’ll never forget how very polite she was when she came into the shop. Her attire may not have been my taste but she was young and very pretty. You only get to be that way once in your life. Why not have a little fun? Regardless of her appearance, I had a feeling she was going to be good at the job. It’s not rocket science and we aren’t curing cancer. But I did, my gut said she would have been good.”

  Mary was surprised a tear came to her eye as she spoke about Summer Moran, a girl she barely knew.

  “It’s such a waste.” She sniffed and shook her head. Alabaster stood up, inching his way closer to Mary until he was looking directly into her face. “Plus, now I don’t have an assistant to help out.”

  This is why you get mice gifts. Because you deserve them. He gently head butted her chin, rubbing all along her jaw and up to look into her eyes again.

  Mary smiled and scratched behind his ears.

  “And this is why you get a sardine every once in a while.” Mary pushed herself back from the counter and went to the pantry, a small cubby covered by a checkered yellow and white curtain.

  “Meow! Meow!” came Alabaster’s actual feline voice.

  “You’re welcome.” Mary emerged with the small tin, cracked it open, removed two sardines and placed them in Alabaster’s plastic bowl on the floor by the kitchen table. Lifting the Crepuscular Caim book to her nose, she took one big whiff before placing it back on the shelf camouflaged with her other cookbooks.

  Within seconds, Alabaster was back on the counter, licking any miniscule crumbs of sardine from his face and doing a little light grooming in the process.

  “Well, it’s all over now. Andrew had the whole group there. He wouldn’t tell me anything that he might have observed. He’s so miserly when it comes to his police work.”

  Andrew? Is Andrew coming over? When is Andrew coming over? I’d love if Andrew came over. I haven’t seen Andrew in so long. I hope he comes over today.

  “Boy, you sure do forget about me, your sardine supplier, when Andrew’s name gets mentioned,” Mary teased. “How long has he been out of the house? Seven years at least.”

  He’s my Andrew, and I hope he comes over tonight. I love him.

  “I know you do. I do, too.” Mary smiled. Alabaster was just a kitten when she picked him up at the shelter. Andrew was twenty years old and was just in the process of looking for his own apartment when the little gray ball of fur became part of the Tuttle family.

  The two males quickly bonded and it was always a special day when Andrew came over. Alabaster couldn’t rub against Andrew’s legs too many times, sit in his lap or stare into his face for too long. Their love knew no bounds.

  “But I’m afraid he’ll probably be very busy with poor Summer Moran. He probably won’t be by for a couple days at least.” Mary leaned in closer to the cat as he yawned. “In the meantime, you’re stuck with me.”

  You’ll do. Alabaster gave one more affectionate bump to Mary’s chin and then hopped off the counter to go find a different place to nap in.

  Mary looked out into her yard. It was a beautiful display of colors as the leaves were in the midst of changing. The grass was still bright green and the play set that Ward had put up so many years ago still stood patiently waiting to be played on again.

  She smiled as she recalled all the hours Andrew spent running from swing to slide to clubhouse and back again. Grandchildren would someday come clamoring to her house to spend hours retracing their father’s steps across the backyard. Mary was looking forward to that day. But her heart tugged a little as she wondered if Summer’s mother ever thought the same thing. Had she played like Andrew running at full speed, giggling and talking to herself without worry?

  CHAPTER FOUR

  THE GRAND OPENING

  THE GRAND OPENING

  “It looks like a pirate’s treasure.” Grace stepped into Beads and Baubles at eight o’clock sharp. With her, she brought half a dozen pink and silver balloons and one giant, awkward monstrosity that spelled out the word Congratulations.

  “Thanks!” Mary smiled and came from behind the counter. “Who are those for?” she teased jerking her chin toward the bouquet of balloons.

&nb
sp; “What?” Grace pulled them inside the store, causing them to squeak against each other. “You know they’re for you. Did I go overboard?”

  “I don’t see any leopard print,” Mary observed.

  “Don’t think I didn’t ask.”

  Mary chuckled. “I was just about to put this outside to hold the door open.” She pointed to the sandwich board leaning against the wall with the words Beads and Baubles Grand Opening Sale written in elegant script on whiteboard. “It’s a beautiful day and I’m sweating like crazy.”

  “That’s a great idea.” Grace let Mary maneuver the board to prop the door open and then attached the balloons to the top, letting them bob and wave in the gentle breeze.

  “They look beautiful, Gracie. Thanks.”

  “That’s not all.” Grace pulled out her phone, set it to camera mode, and began snapping away. She stopped the morning traffic to get a good shot of the sign over the window and the balloon display that reflected the morning sun into the eyes of drivers, pedestrians, and the satellite cameras in orbit around the Earth. The displays of findings, crystals, semi-precious stones, and glass beads were a feast for the eyes, offering so many colors and shapes it was breathtaking.

  Having a small square of extra space at the front of the store, she placed two mismatched comfy chairs and a coffee table in between, facing the window. It added a touch of Bohemian to the place. In the furthest left corner of the store, across from the register, was another secondhand table big enough to seat eight comfortably. Benches were placed underneath, instead of chairs, saving space and allowing for extra people to sit when a class was being taught or if anyone wanted to work on a project they brought with them. The lighting overhead was bright so her customers could see exactly what they were looking at. But enough natural light came from the storefront windows that even the most extreme color matcher would have no problem gauging whether they were looking at chartreuse, spring green, or apple green.

  “This place inspires creativity. I can feel the good vibes,” Grace mused, finally putting her camera away. “Just thinking about all the things I could make makes me hungry.”

  “Yeah. Where’s the baker?”

  At that moment, as if on cue, Henry Dietz walked into Beads and Baubles with a white box in his hands.

  Grace waved in his direction. “Speak of the devil.” She grinned. “Henry, put that box over here.”

  “Mary, the place looks great!” Henry kissed Mary on the cheek then handed the pastry box to his wife. “Now, there are enough chocolate éclairs in there to at least get you guys to lunch.”

  “My husband, so funny.” Grace shook her head.

  “Can you stay for one?” Mary asked, taking a roll of paper towels from behind the counter to the worktable where Grace was already picking a pastry for herself.

  “No. I’ve got such a lazy staff. If I don’t keep an eye on them, they’ll eat my profits and use my phone for personal calls.”

  Both Mary and Grace started to laugh, since Deitz’s Bakery was owned and operated by the Deitz clan. Henry wished Mary good luck again and quickly left, going just three quick paces next door. The ladies heard him yell to their youngest, Sean, to get off the phone as soon as he pulled the bakery door open.

  “We walk an extra fifteen minutes this weekend.” Mary held up the éclair to her friend before taking a big bite. Just as she was about to take a seat, another familiar face came through the door.

  “Why don’t you ever answer your phone?” Mary’s son moaned.

  “Oh, honey. I forgot it again. I know exactly where it is. It’s on the side table,” Mary babbled.

  “A lot of good it does there. Mom, this place looks awesome.” Andrew grinned proudly, removing his baseball hat from his head. Even in faded blue jeans, he looked professional and tough. His police issue gun rested on his hip and his badge shined over the pocket of the plaid shirt he was wearing.

  “Thanks, honey. Do you have time for an éclair? Henry brought them over.”

  “Hi, Grace.” He gave his mom’s friend a quick nod and a handsome smile. “I don’t think so. We’ve got a lot more trouble than we thought with Summer Moran.”

  Grace stopped chewing, her eyes nearly bugging out as she leaned forward to listen.

  “Really?” Mary tried to give the impression she was only half interested. “Well, troubled in life. Why should death be any different?” Mary wrinkled her nose at her own comment.

  “Why do you say that, Andrew?” Grace saved the day.

  “She didn’t die of drugs or alcohol poisoning. The amount of liquor in her system was well below the legal limit. Some drugs were found but nothing that would make me look twice. The bruising was odd. Judging by the physical trauma, at first glance I thought internal bleeding. Perhaps she had hit her head.”

  That’s what I thought. Mary watched and let her son continue without interruption.

  “Turns out, cause of death was asphyxiation.”

  “What?” Grace barked as Mary pursed her eyebrows together and pinched her mouth closed.

  “There were three giant jellybeans lodged in her throat.”

  “She choked to death on some candy?” Grace put her hand to her mouth. “That poor thing.”

  “Well, like I said. There is some very suspicious bruising. I’m not making a call on this until I’ve looked at everything.” Andrew shook his head.

  “Would you like to come by for dinner tonight?” Mary put her hand on her son’s arm. “A home cooked meal can help you focus. You can tell me all about it. That is, since you don’t have anyone else coming by. Or do you? Do you have a date?”

  Andrew squinted at his mother. “I’ve got a case to work on and you are asking if I have a date? Really, Mom?” Andrew reached into the box of pastries and pulled out an éclair for himself.

  “Andrew, I don’t know if your mother told you but my niece will be visiting in a month. Her name is Lola, and she’s just about your age. I could put in a good word.” Grace looked far over her nose at Andrew and gave him a wink.

  “Yeah, okay, Grace.” Andrew blushed then leaned over and kissed his mom on the top of her head. “The place really does look great, Mom.”

  “Thanks.” Mary reached up and touched his cheek with her hand, tapping him gently. “Be careful.”

  “Always am.” He walked toward the door only to have his path cut off by one of Morhollow’s most threatening resident. “Oh, excuse me. Good morning, Mrs. Williamson.”

  “Captain Tuttle.”

  Mrs. Dawn Williamson was known in Morhollow as an extreme crafter. With Morhollow having dozens of arts and craft shows throughout the year, it would be impossible for anyone attending the events or visiting not to see the name Dawn Williamson next to the words First Prize Winner.

  She was built like a barrel and when her feet were planted, you could bet there would be no moving her. Mary and Grace knew this fact as well as Andrew, which was why he did a contortionist jig as he slid past her with his éclair in one hand, his hat in the other.

  Her sense of style was not unique. Unlike Grace, who never left home without some sort of animal print on her person, Dawn, who could follow just about any pattern, dressed in a classic style that nicely fit her robust frame.

  Scrapbooking, cake decorating, knitting, quilting, crocheting, stamping, candle-making, whatever the craft, Dawn was in it to be the best. Crafters could be seen visibly shaking if they had to bring their substandard attempts at creativity up against something Dawn made in any competition. Her submissions would have impeccably perfect seams, perfect lines, perfect, perfect, perfect everything. And now it looked like beading was Dawn’s next conquest. She stepped into the store, looking around carefully. This was a new one for her. She wasn’t going to rush into it and be sucked in by all the shiny facets and sparkly findings.

  “Hi, Dawn,” Mary said carefully. Dawn had been known to snap at people who interrupted her when she was in her brainstorming mode. “Welcome to my store.”

 
“This is your store?” Dawn asked, unable to hide the condescension in her voice. “Funny. I would have never pegged you as a business owner. You strike me as more of a homebody.” She walked farther into the store, her eyes gazing at everything but Mary and Grace.

  “So, if you see anything you like, you take the little plastic bag and—”

  “I know how these little stores work,” Dawn snapped, cutting Mary off in mid-sentence. “Write the price on the bag. Got it.” She shook a little baggy in Mary’s direction, forcing a smile so wide it pushed her plump cheeks into her eyes, making them crescent moons.

  Grace shook her head and rolled her eyes while taking another bite of éclair.

  Ignoring the large woman as she maneuvered through the rows, Grace pretended she wasn’t there. “I am going to introduce my niece to your Andrew. I’m not saying they’d get married or anything but I think they might have a good time together.”

  “You said she will be visiting in a month? That should give him enough time to resolve this whole Summer Moran thing. What a story, right? Jellybeans?” Mary’s voice was hushed but obviously not hushed enough.

  “Are you talking about what happened to Summer Moran? It’s all over town.” Dawn weaved her way to the back table.

  “That didn’t take long.” Mary looked at Grace.

  “I saw it coming. When you live the way Summer did, it isn’t a matter of if something bad is going to happen but when.” She picked up a 4mm faceted citrine stone. Mary knew that particular stone was used to enhance self-confidence. She wondered if Dawn would suffer an overdose if she purchased too many of those.

  “What do you mean, the way Summer lived? What did you know about it?” Grace asked, her attempt at shutting down Dawn’s gossip a complete failure.

  Dawn looked at Grace and rolled her eyes. “Well, for starters, she had quite a few boyfriends. More than a normal girl would. I was told a different fellow was coming out of her apartment every weekend, and I personally saw that Bruce McGovern staggering down those front steps on more than one occasion.”