by Abigail Keam
“Wait a minute, Bloomie,” I said as she tried to make an exit. “I want you to look at something.”
“What’s going on?” asked Sarah.
“We are retracing Jamie’s journey according to the police report, but first I wanted to ask you both something.” I pulled out the ring and chain that Jake had found at the Golden Sun Vineyard. “Do either of you recognize this?”
Taking the ring, Sarah turned it over in her palm. “I don’t think so. No, I don’t recognize it.” She handed it to Bloomie.
“No,” said Bloomie flatly, handing it quickly back to me while averting her eyes.
I gave her a curious look and noticed she was pale. Also her ankles were swollen and the fabric around her breast shirt buttons was straining.
“Okay, just wanted to check,” I said.
“Where did you find it?” asked Sarah.
“On Golden Sun’s beach near where Jamie was found.”
I looked again at Bloomie. A rose flush was creeping up her neck.
There was a pause among us.
“Well, I thought this might be a clue,” I said.
“’Fraid I can’t help you,” said Sarah.
“Jake, why don’t you go and start the boat.” I turned towards Sarah. “Thanks Sarah. I’ll be in contact. Bloomie, can you help me down the path?”
Bloomie glanced at Sarah, who nodded yes. I smiled, putting my hand on Bloomie’s arm as we started down the slope to the boat dock. Taking little baby steps, I forced Bloomie to slow down.
“Bloomie,” I said, looking at the river. “I found a condom wrapper under Jamie’s bed when I was here last.” I could feel her arm tense under my hand. “By everyone’s account, he didn’t have a girlfriend.” Stopping on the pathway, I turned Bloomie towards me. “Did you feel grateful to Jamie because he got you a job here? Perhaps he asked you to somehow show your gratitude towards him?”
Bloomie’s soulful eyes filled with tears as she pulled away.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “Mrs. Dunne has gone back into the house. She can’t hear you.”
“Please don’t tell anyone,” Bloomie begged. “I was grateful . . . but it wasn’t as you suggested. I wanted to. I loved Jamie. I wanted to be his girlfriend.”
“Did he feel the same way about you?”
“I don’t know, but he was always kind to me. That was enough . . . for then.”
“Is this ring yours?”
She nodded her head. “Yes, I gave it to him as a good luck piece.”
“It must have meant something to him as he was wearing it the night he died.”
The teenage girl looked gratefully at me.
“How far along are you, Bloomie?”
Her button of a mouth dropped. “How do you know?” she asked, stealing another glance at the house.
“I can just tell. I don’t mean to be insensitive, but if you were using protection then how . . .”
“We didn’t always. When he ran out of condoms, he was too embarrassed to ask for more.”
“Where did he get the them?”
Bloomie hung her head. “From some guy at church.”
“Church?”
“Yeah, the church he and his mom went to. He had a friend there. Never told me his name, but this guy helped him out. But their friendship went sour, so Jamie quit hanging around him.”
“What happened?”
“He kept gettin’ in Jamie’s business. It made Jamie feel weird, like somethin’ wasn’t right with this guy.”
“I think I know who it is.”
Bloomie bit her lip while shoving her thick, doughy hands in her pockets. She wouldn’t look at me.
“Does Mrs. Dunne know?”
Bloomie shook her head.
“Are you going to tell her?”
“Don’t know. Haven’t decided what I’m going to do. I’m in a world of trouble, that’s for sure.”
“What about your folks?”
She snorted derisively. “Useless. I can’t wait till next year when I’m eighteen and can get away from them.”
“I can’t tell you what to do. I don’t know your circumstances, but once you decide, I can help refer you to an agency or to a home that can help.”
“You won’t tell Mrs. Dunne?”
It was my turn to shake my head. “As much as it pains me to keep this from Sarah, this is your decision. You must make the choice of what to do. If she is to be told, then it must be you who does the telling,” I said. “You’re now an adult. You took up adult pleasures and now you must make adult decisions regarding the consequences.”
The young girl’s face quivered at my words.
I put my arm around her. “I know. I know. Love makes a person do crazy things. But don’t wait long. If I could tell that you’re having a baby, she will too very soon.” I handed the ring back to Bloomie. “Take care, Bloomie, and good luck to you.”
She wiped away a tear, putting the ring in her pocket. I could tell that the fact Jamie was carrying the ring when he died meant a great deal to her. It was possibly the only evidence of his feelings for her. Bloomie would never know the truth for sure.
Growing impatient, Franklin had already started the boat and I barely made it back in when he started to ease the boat away from the dock.
“Did they recognize it?” asked Franklin, over his shoulder.
“No, they hadn’t seen it before,” I replied. I caught Jake studying Bloomie walking up the pathway to the Dunne’s house. He turned and caught my glance.
“Where’s the ring now?” Jake asked.
“I gave it to Bloomie.”
Looking smug, he said, “Thought so. Her waist has thickened since the last time we saw her.” He waited for me to comment.
“It’s none of our business,” I replied.
“Are you sure it has nothing to do with his death?”
“I’m not sure of anything, but I doubt it. Bloomie’s just a poor, frightened teenage girl with no one to help her. Until we know that it does, her condition does not exist for us.”
“I can play it cool.” He reflected, “The beautiful Jamie and the plain Bloomie, huh.”
He shook his head and went to stand with Franklin giving me time to reflect. Poor Bloomie. I had rarely seen a young person so alone.
We continued down the river close to the south bank looking for anything unusual when we came to a pool of orange disks floating in the water. Curiously, Jake pulled a disk up with my cane only to find it attached to a complex fishing net.
“These must be commercial fishing nets,” said Jake.
“Yeah, but it is after the deadline for commercial fishing in this pool. These must be illegal traps,” I commented, counting the number of disks.
A small motorboat careened out of the shadows, criss-crossing the water to face our boat. The three of us turned to face a scraggly-looking man training a shotgun on us.
“Hey man, what do you think you’re doing?” asked Jake. He slowly inched towards his shoulder holster.
“Be still, Pilgrim,” ordered the stranger. “Keep your hands where I can see them. I’d hate to have an accident with this hair trigger.”
“Are you Rod Tavis?” I asked.
The man blinked at the sound of his name. “Who you be?”
“I’m Mrs. Reynolds. This is Joe and Franklin.”
“Whatcha doin’ messin’ wit’ my nets?”
“We saw the orange disks floating and were just curious. We meant no harm. Please lower the gun. It is making me very nervous and I need to sit down. My leg is bad.”
Tavis lowered his shotgun and propelled his boat closer to ours. “Sorry, Miss, but somebody’s been messin’ with my nets. They’re my livin’ and I gots to protect them.”
“What are you trying to catch?”
“Catfish. People love fried catfish.”
“I know I do,” I replied, while handing Tavis a bottle of water.
He reached up with a grubby hand, nodding his thanks.
/> I noticed a prison tattoo on his hand. “Have you seen any eagles this year?”
“Saw bald eagle migrating yesterday. Stop for a few hours to fish and then moved on.”
“I wish they would stay,” I said wearily.
“They’re awful pretty.”
“Do you fish just in this pool?” I asked innocently, now handing him several of Charles’ tea sandwiches.
“I fish all over. Got to. Don’t want to overfish.”
Jake interjected, “They really should reopen all the river locks.”
Pulling a bandana from around his yellow scrawny neck, Tavis wiped his creased face. “No money in the budget and not enough traffic on the river to justify it. Well, that’s the way it goes.”
“Were you on the river the day that boy drowned?”
“I’m on the river every day.”
“I thought perhaps you might have seen him.”
Tavis blinked while swatting an early gnat. “Nope, can’t say that I do. Don’t go out on the river at night. Never saw him.” He swatted away a dragonfly darting between us. “Sorry to have scared you folks, but I’ve gots to git on down the river and check more of my nets.”
“Nice to have met you,” I said.
“Same here. Thanks for the refreshments.” Tavis revved up his motor and was soon making his way against the current.
“Well, that was interesting,” I said.
Franklin looked down at his pants. “I don’t need to pee anymore. Why are people always pulling a gun on me?”
Jake stifled a laugh. “Don’t worry, the wind will dry you out soon. Just stay downwind from us, okay.”
“And don’t sit on the cushions,” I cautioned, “or June will be all over me. What’s that obnoxious odor, Daaarlin’?” I mimicked in her Tallulah Bankhead voice.
Franklin grinned. “We can always blame Baby.”
The three of us glared at Baby, who had not even lifted his head to save us when Tavis had pulled a shotgun on us. He was sleeping soundly. I stepped over him to get a beach towel for Franklin, which he wrapped around himself.
We finished our trip in another three hours, canvassing both sides of the river and the east side of lock 8. Nothing. Daunted, we returned home finding June, aka Lady Elsmere, on the dock waiting for us. She was wearing a faded safari bushmaster outfit complete with several evening diamond bracelets to finish the ensemble. Charles was standing behind her with a little smile on his lips. He was holding a pith helmet attached to a natty little veil.
Franklin jumped out of the boat and tied it up. Jake put me and the food baskets over the side before he doubled checked that the boat was left shipshape.
“Hello, June,” I said, exaggerating the limp in my walk. “Sahib going to hunt simba today?”
“You’re not going to joke your way out of stealing my boat. This is going to cost you, Josiah,” announced June.
“I intend to pay for the gas.”
“I am giving a dinner party next weekend.”
“No. No. NO! I hate your dinner parties. Remember what happened after the last one.”
“That had nothing to do with me. If you had stayed with me, then O’nan would have tried to just kill that boy over there,” she said, pointing to Franklin. “Oh, my goodness, did you have that canine monster on my brand new boat?”
Baby padded over to June and stuck his muzzle in her ancient crotch. Great. Franklin pulled him away, apologizing.
It didn’t rattle her. June continued, “I will send a car for you at 7:45 sharp.” Turning, she got into her Bentley. Charles retrieved the basket and ice chest. He was mumbling under his breath. I could tell the announcement of the dinner party was the first time he had heard of it.
As soon as they pulled off, Franklin jumped in front of me. “I am going with you. I missed out last time. It’s my turn to go to Lady Elsmere’s.” Touching his bad shoulder, he blurted, “I deserve to go after what I’ve been through.”
Jake pushed him out of the way. “You’re not going anywhere, Sport. I am going to be the Boss Lady’s escort.”
Franklin snorted, “As if you own a suit, let alone a tuxedo. Don’t you need to be outside patrolling the grounds or something like that protecting people?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I interrupted, “’cause I’m not going.”
“NOT GOING?” they both groused. “YOU HAVE TO GO! We want to see the house.”
“Goodness, I had no idea this meant so much to the two of you to be invited to that old biddy’s home.”
“Pick one of us,” demanded Franklin.
“No way. I’m not going.”
Jake pulled out a coin. “Call it,” he said, as he tossed it in the air.
“Heads,” called Franklin.
Jake caught and flipped it on his forearm. Both peered carefully as Jake lifted his hand. “Aiyee, tails. I’m going.” He did a little victory dance.
“Two out of three,” begged Franklin.
“No, man. You lost fair and square.”
“Come on, paper, scissors, rock?”
Jake shook his head.
“It’s not fair!” wailed Franklin.
Life’s not fair. My thoughts flickered back to Bloomie and Jamie. Life sure hadn’t been fair to them.
15
The next afternoon, I heard Matt calling for me throughout the house. Not being able to move, I knew he would find me eventually. He did. Poking his head in my bedroom, he caught me squeezed between Franklin and Jake on my bed watching a movie on my new big-screen TV. Baby was lying on the end of the bed with our feet propped up on him. The two barn cats were ensconced asleep on Jake’s lap while Franklin happily munched popcorn. We were watching the film noir classic, Kiss Of Death with Victor Mature and Richard Widmark, whose performance of the psycho, Tommy Udall, gave Jack Nicholson and Heath Ledger a run for their money for similar performances.
Jake looked at the screen and then at Matt. “Hey, he really does look like Victor Mature.”
Matt gave us an odd look before announcing, “Bees are swarming!”
In my struggle to climb over Franklin, I knocked over the bowl of popcorn and poked Baby in the ribs with my feet. The cats flew off Jake’s lap with an angry screech. I hobbled outside to the golf cart where I stored my bee equipment. Of course, I had put swarm catchers everywhere, but honeybees are notorious for not doing what they are supposed to. I put on a veil and gloves, but shunned the complete beesuit, as swarming bees are usually easy to handle. Matt jumped in the cart and we rattled down the gravel road into the horse pasture where Matt had spotted bees balled into a lump in a tree. The buzzing of the bees kept the horses at bay.
Thirty thousand bees, forming a cluster, hung from a tree limb about 15 feet up from the ground. I needed to work quickly before they took off to their permanent home.
Swarming is how honeybees proliferate. The hive gets too crowded in the spring, so the old queen leaves with some of her workers while the new queen takes over the hive. If a beekeeper can catch the swarm, she has a new bee colony.
Matt and I laid a white sheet under the clump of bees. Matt pulled out a nuc and installed two frames smeared with thick crystallized honey. He then positioned himself under the clump of bees holding up the plastic box, while I took a broom and gently tried to knock the bee ball into it. Part of the clump did find their way into the nuc, but the other part fell on the sheet. Immediately the bees began to fly back up to the branch where they had last smelled their queen. Matt brought down the nuc onto the sheet and pushed the confused clump into the box and closed the lid. I opened the small bottom entrance of the nuc. Bees, crawling on the sheet, made a beeline to the nuc and obediently entered.
I waited until escaped bees made another ball on the tree and then again knocked it down onto the sheet. Some immediately got the idea and joined their sisters in the nuc. Others seemed confused and flew in circles around the box. I put some honey around the entrance as bait. Eventually all the bees would succumb to the nuc. I wou
ld pick it up in the morning when they were calm and take the bees to an empty hive body where they would be installed in their new homes.
Leaving the nuc on the sheet, Matt and I toured the farm looking for more bee swarms. I would do this twice a day now for several weeks until the swarming season was over. If I were lucky, the bees would be happily install in swarm boxes which I could transfer to hive bodies. Or the bees could be in a tree, fifty feet up and out of my reach. That was a loss of income to me and a loss to Kentucky, which needed every honeybee it had. Swarms that go off on their own usually die.
We found another small swarm of bees on a fence post. I put crystallized honey on a frame and with a soft brush, brushed them onto the frame. They protested until they smelled the honey. Too busy eating; they stayed on the frame as I put it in a nuc box, which is nothing more than a portable home. I kept doing this with frames until most of the bees were off the post and munching contently on a thick cream of honey. I closed the top of the nuc box and opened the side entrance. Putting honey around the entrance, I then brushed off the remaining bees from the fence post and hoped they had the sense to go with their sisters. Again, I left them to do their bee thing. I would pick up the nuc in the morning. I didn’t know if this swarm would survive. I hadn’t seen a queen. If in two weeks, I didn’t find brood in the hive, I would combine the bees with a larger hive so they could thrive.
Leaning against the golf cart, I pulled off my veil. Matt stored the equipment. We both grinned at each other.
“I haven’t seen you smile like that in about two years,” Matt reflected. “It’s nice.”
“Matt, I actually feel happy. I didn’t think I would ever feel that way again. If I were a cat, I’d be purring.”
“If you will wait until tomorrow evening, when I get home from work, I’ll help you install the bees.”
“You got a deal there, good buddy.”
“Hey, can we come over?” yelled Franklin. Both Franklin and Jake had followed us, waiting at a respectable distance.
