Samantha, whose lithe frame disappeared in the overly baggy Callahan’s dress shirt and slacks they were made to wear, shuffled for a moment before looking back at the two women. “A few years back. It was before I came here with Buck and Dem.” She said, seeming nervous to go further. It was odd because she spoke as if they would automatically know who Buck and Dem were. It was clear the girl just wasn't used to talking to people.
“What part of Phoenix did you live?” Abby asked.
Samantha froze, and Abby thought she might not answer, but finally, she spoke up in a quiet voice. “Mesa, I think. We had an apartment there. Buck was working construction, and Dem drove for some cab company. I didn’t get out very much. They said I shouldn’t go out and talk to people.”
Abby plastered a smile on her face though her concern was growing. Whomever Buck and Dem were, she suspected she would not like how they had been treating this girl. “I ended up out by Goodyear. My parents had a house there, but I couldn’t stay. They were in a retirement community, and you have to be fifty-five to stay there, so I got an apartment in the area for a while. It was just too hard to be alone, though, so my grandmother Hazel Morgan invited me out here.”
Samantha’s eyes stopped flickering back and forth, and she focused on Abby’s face for the first time with concern, and even a little fear. “So your parents didn’t want you either?” Samantha asked with wide eyes.
Abby frowned and shook her head. “No, it wasn’t like that. I did things with them all the time. It was just the rules of the housing development where they lived. It wasn’t their fault.”
Samantha blinked again and frowned, deep in thought. Abby wasn’t sure the girl understood, but finally, she shrugged. “Oh, I guess that’s nice. I have to get back to work now.” Just like that she turned and walked deeper into her booth and away from Becky and Abby.
Abby turned and gave Becky a wide-eyed look that she kept hidden from Callahan’s booth. It had been a strange encounter, and it was evident to Abby that Samantha had issues.
Becky shrugged, her eyes hooded. “That was Samantha Greene. She hasn’t been in town for more than a few years, and she rarely goes anywhere but to work and the apartment she shares with Buck and Dem,” Becky whispered. “I think that’s the most I’ve heard her talk, ever.”
Abby opened her mouth to answer, but there was a sudden commotion as a young teenage boy and girl came running into the Festival. Both of their faces were drawn into terrified masks as they ran through the crowd, yelling almost incoherently. People drew back from them, and Abby felt a cold, clammy dread creep over her.
The mayor had been hanging around Callahan’s and sipped from several different samples of wine but moved quickly into the two teenager’s path. The boy plowed into him, too freaked out to have even noticed the man in his way, and the girl broke down into frightened, hysterical sobbing.
“Dylan! Stop! What’s wrong?” the mayor said, grabbing the boy and shaking him.
“Mr. Tomlin?!” the boy shook in surprise, panicked from whatever they had seen and out of breath. Even so, his voice broke over the now hushed crowd. “We found Mr. Malcolm, Sir. He’s not breathing.” The boy turned, looking back toward the woods. “We think he’s dead.”
“Oh, jackrabbits,” Becky said under her breath.
Chapter 9
The sheriff and his deputies were quick to arrive and were just as quick to shut down the Festival despite the milling locals and tourists. There was an element of fear pervading as people gossiped loudly about what might have happened. Abby overheard whispers of gun shots, and someone even mentioned they heard tires squealing, despite the fact the teenagers had come running from the thickest part of the wooded park. However, that didn’t mean everyone got to leave right away, either. The sheriff only had about three other deputies, and even though they started taking statements right away, it was going to be a long afternoon.
The sheriff came over to talk to Becky and the other food vendors, asking if they would remain open so people could at least get something to eat and drink. His voice was tight with concern, and they could tell he wanted to get back to dealing with the crowds. Becky was happy not to let her sandwiches go to waste, athough Callahan’s did stop serving wine. The sheriff figured, and rightfully so that adding alcohol to the current chaos wasn’t a good idea.
About an hour or so after the town sheriff and his men had pulled up, the county corner and a few more state troopers arrived to help round out the investigation. Their presence caused a whole new round of whispering and buzzing as they watched the vehicles pull up and then drive onto the grass toward the perimeter that the sheriff had established. Abby had seen similar things on television shows often enough, but seeing it in person was far more surreal. It caused a wave of sadness to wash over her, and she could see similar looks on several other people’s faces as they watched the scene play out. It became even worse when several men in blue jackets pulled a gurney out of the blue van and pulled it behind them as they disappeared into the forest.
“What do you think happened?” Abby said, turning to Becky sadly after taking money from a couple. Their line had shrunk to nothing, so they had a small break in which to talk.
“Who knows?” Becky responded though she didn’t sound as sad about what had happened as Abby felt. “I hate to say, but there’s a lot of people who didn’t like him. I didn’t hear a gunshot or anything, though.” Becky opened up one of their sandwiches and bit into it, chewing thoughtfully. “Do you think it was an accident?”
Abby went over and grabbed her sandwich. Egg salad was one of her favorites, but she hadn’t made it for herself in months. Despite the presence of the police and a dead body somewhere in the woods, Abby made a yum sound as she bit into it with gusto. Breaking a piece off, she gestured to Cheerio who got up and eagerly took the morsel from her fingers. “I’ve not been in town a week but with as much of an ass as he was while I’ve been here? He’s lucky somebody didn’t drag him down the street behind their car. I think even my grandmother hates…well, hated him. Is that too soon? To say it past tense?”
Becky chuckled darkly and shrugged. “I have no idea, but it’s probably better to say past tense in this case.” She stopped talking, and Abby looked in the direction her eyes had drifted. The coroner and his team looked like they’d finished whatever they needed to do and were bringing the gurney back toward where their van was parked. Reporters pushed forward, jostling for position and trying to get a picture of the now-full gurney. The dead body had a drape over it, but the sight was still dramatic and would make a compelling piece for whichever newspapers they represented. The sheriff’s deputies and some of the state troopers pushed back, making sure the coroner had plenty of room to work.
It wasn’t much longer after the coroner’s van had pulled out and left that the police began slowly letting people leave, thinning out the already sparse crowd to the point where one of the deputies finally came around to let them know they could start packing up. Abby was relieved, feeling the presence of death far too tightly for her liking. Strangely, the events of the day hadn’t triggered a panic attack about Danny. She had braced herself for the possibility but was thankful it had not come.
As the two friends began to pack and take down the booth, she noticed a group of people congregated near the oak tree. There were some men and women of all ages, but Mabel Clawson was standing in the middle of them with her hand on the trunk, and her head bowed as if she were praying. Some of the other people around her were in the same position, but most of the men and women were grinning and seemed almost to be celebrating.
“What do you think is going on over there?” Abby asked, frowning at the group. Craig Malcolm may have been a jerk, but a life was a life, and his passing shouldn’t be a celebration for anyone.
“Looks like the Clawsons are giving thanks for a miracle,” Becky said with distaste, making air quotes around the last word. “It just might be the case, too, if they wanted to save the park and
their oak. Craig Malcolm was pretty much his entire company. I don’t think he has any partners that would be interested in taking up where he left off.”
“You don’t think the Clawsons had anything to do with his death, do you?”
Becky gave Abby a long, hard look but didn’t answer right away. Instead, she looked down and continued to pack one of the coolers. Abby wondered if she was going to answer but when she passed her, wheeling the cooler on her way back to her truck, she finally did. “Maybe. It won’t help matters that they’re celebrating over there in front of everyone. I’m pretty sure the sheriff is already giving them the hairy eyeball. If someone killed Craig with a butter knife, it wouldn't look good for Mabel, but I doubt it would be her. She’s fiery but there’s no way she could have overpowered someone like Craig. I just can’t see her hiding up in a tree waiting to pounce on someone passing below.”
Abby looked back over at the group and studied them. She agreed with Becky about Mabel, but there were some people over there that looked big and robust enough to have done some damage even to someone like Craig Malcolm. Too many of them looked like they might have enjoyed it, especially with the wide grins on their faces.
But was this her business?
No. Not really. Abby was too new to the town and knew so few of the locals. With her troubles, she didn’t need to add to them and ruthlessly tried to push the events of the day from her thoughts. Setting her mind on the task at hand, she got to work with Becky to finish packing and to load up the truck. A short time later both women were driving away and heading back to Becky’s café. Despite the morning’s excitement she smiled and breathed in the cold, fresh air.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Becky asked as they turned down the street that held her café.
Abby smiled and looked back over at her friend. “Did you seriously just asked me a penny for my thoughts? Who does that nowadays?”
“Um, me?” Becky said back, quirking her eyebrow. “Remember? I’ve never been out of this town, right?”
Becky and Abby both laughed as they pulled into the driveway that led behind the café. When the truck came to a stop, both women jumped out, and Abby went to unload while Becky unlocked the door and came back to join her.
“Sorry,” Becky said sheepishly. “But I can’t imagine what you might be thinking of our town. You just got here, and already there’s been a murder.”
“I’m thinking it’s pretty freaking weird,” Abby said jokingly. “I’m just hoping no one comes looking for me with pitchforks and torches, blaming me for the rash of evil forces that have descended upon your town.”
“I hope not. I just started to like you. That being said,” Becky said, tapping her chin and looking off to the side thoughtfully. “We’ve not had a recent lynching in ages, or maybe a witch burning. Salem is close so we could get away with it, I think? Might be a nice change of pace.”
Abby snorted,” I thought this Salem wasn’t the one that had issues with witches.”
Becky laughed softly,” Don’t confuse me with facts. On the other hand, it is nice to have someone my age to talk with. Most of my friends took off for Salem or Portland as quick as they could, but I didn’t want to abandon the town. It’s beautiful here, and I love it.”
Abby nodded and stopped to take another look around. Even here behind the café, there were large trees and greenery everywhere. It gave everything a sheltered, protected feeling that she liked. Like everything had been here forever. It was so different from Phoenix and many other places she lived. Sure, there had been trees, but they didn’t loom like massive green giants over the buildings like they did here.
“I like it, too,” Abby said wistfully. “It just feels cleaner or something. I can’t put my finger on it, but I like it. And thanks for being friendly to me. It’s hard enough being in a new place.”
Becky laughed. “Well, anyone who still likes it here after watching a crazy old lady try to attack a man with a butter knife is okay in my book.”
Chapter 10
Despite what she’d told Becky about liking the town, Abby found herself staying close to home for the next few days. She ventured out into town early to jog with Cheerio, but for the most part, she avoided the shops and common areas. The emotions of the townspeople were all over the place, and she couldn’t go anywhere without hearing people talking about the recent murder. Most were understandably shocked by the happenstance, but some other emotions crept in, too. Fear, anger, and even shame mixed with a strange relief that caused Abby to recoil. She could understand it, but dealing with how a small community felt about a murder was far rawer and close than she had ever experienced. She felt like a complete outsider because she wanted just to avoid it like everyone did in the major cities. But here in Red Pine Falls, there was no escaping it.
So instead, she retreated to her room to read a good book. She was doing exactly that when she heard Hazel call up the stairs.
“Abby?”
Abby put her tablet down and looked up from where she was laying on her bed with Cheerio snuggled close to her side. “Yes?” She called back, somewhat relieved at being interrupted.
“Can you come down for a minute? We need groceries, and I was wondering if you can drive me into town. Mr. Wilberson is busy in the garage.”
Abby turned her tablet off and put it on her nightstand before quickly descending the stairs. “That sounds like a plan. Do you have a list or do you just wing it?”
Hazel held up a small yellow pad and grinned over her glasses. “Always a list. It’s better to go shopping with a list and a full stomach, I always say.”
The two women walked out to the garage, and Hazel handed Abby the keys. Abby had been a little surprised to find her grandmother had a happy purple PT Cruiser. A stylish little car but functional as well. She had been expecting an old dusty sedan, but her grandmother had just grinned the first time she’d shown her the car and shook a finger at Abby. “I may be old, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have good taste. Besides, most of those cars guzzle gas like there’s no tomorrow.”
Abby opened the car and let Cheerio jump into the back seat while she and Hazel buckled into the front. She backed out, and they trundled down the short driveway that led to the bridge before moving up the road toward the Food Emporium.
As they neared the largish building, Abby chuckled at the name since it sounded so grandiose, but in reality, it was about half the size of a typical grocery store and packed tightly to boot. Still, the people were friendly and had most everything that they needed.
Abby was in the bread aisle when she overheard someone in one of the other aisles talking about the murder. She rolled her eyes and began to move away, not wanting to hear any more about it.
That was until she overheard the name of her friend Becky mentioned.
She stopped, feeling a wash of dread as she craned her ears, trying to pick up more of what was said. It was indeed concerning Becky, and the words sent a chill down her spine as she began to listen in.
“She was always a bit of a firebrand,” said one of the voices. It sounded like a slightly nasally middle-aged woman’s voice. “I can’t see her doing it, but there’s got to be a reason the sheriff closed her down.”
“That can’t be good,” said another, older voice. “Becky has always been a sweetheart, but she did have reason to dislike that man. Can you believe he ate there almost every morning? Even after he tried to drive her out of business? I don’t think I could blame her for it if she did. It’s not like Craig didn’t deserve it!”
Abby blinked and frowned, pausing for only a moment before pushing her cart around the aisle and toward the two women who had been talking. They blinked owlishly at her when Abby pushed her cart right up to them. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help overhearing. What happened to Becky?”
Both women frowned, clearly perturbed at Abby for eavesdropping, but their urge to share gossip quickly overcame their irritation. The older woman sniffed, looking sideways down the aisle be
fore answering. “This morning the sheriff shut her café down. No one knows why, but we can guess. It almost certainly has to be something to do with Craig, right?”
Abby couldn’t say no, so she mumbled something polite before turning around and heading back down the food aisle looking for Hazel. Concern screamed through her like an urgent, air siren. Her friend? Did they shut her café down? It couldn’t be good!
She found Hazel reading the ingredients on two different bottles of spaghetti sauce. The look on her face must have been alarming because when Abby pulled up, Hazel frowned. “Is everything okay, dear?”
“I don’t know,” Abby said, though the tone of her voice clearly said otherwise. “I just overheard two people talking about how Becky’s café was just closed down by the sheriff.”
Hazel blinked, and her frown deepened. “We can head over there if you’d like. I’m just about done here, and it isn’t like they change the ingredients in these things.” Hazel quickly put one of the bottles back on the shelf, and then the other into the cart. Hazel was much like Abby was in the store, preferring to meander and consider what they wanted, but that was quickly thrown out the window as both women moved with more precision, filling the remainder of their list as fast as possible.
Cheerio barked happily and wagged his tail from the half-open window as they briskly approached the cruiser. A moment later and they were loaded and on their way. Hazel didn’t even blink as Abby pushed their speed over the speed limit. Usually a terrible idea in any small town, but they were in a hurry. The drive over to Becky’s didn’t take very long and when they arrived there was a police cruiser sitting outside of her café and a closed sign prominently, almost challengingly displayed in her window.
Abby parked and got Cheerio out of the back seat while Hazel came around from the front. Despite the menace of the closed sign, the door was open, and they could see Becky with tears streaming down her face speaking to the sheriff. Even if the door had been locked, Abby was ready to bang on the door until someone let them in. It was probably not the safest attitude to have with the police, but it was evident her friend needed her.
Hot Tea and Cold Murder: A Red Pine Falls Cozy Mystery (Red Pine Falls Cozy Mysteries Book 1) Page 5
