Final Sale (A Bittersweet-Hollow Mystery Book 1)

by Annie Irvin

  Jack deftly plopped two pounds of sausage onto the scale with his plastic paddle.

  Hattie stared keenly at Harper with sharp eyes. “I also heard the new owners, the Hoovers, isn’t it? were there when Grace met her maker. How did they take murder amongst the bittersweet?”

  Not knowing what to say, Harper didn’t reply and Hattie nodded knowingly.

  “I guess that’s to be expected,” she sighed. “I hope the killer is caught real soon.” She took the paper-wrapped package from Jack. “Add this to the tab, Jack. Harold will be in next week and settle up.” With a slight nod to Harper, Hattie shuffled her way out of the store.

  Jack looked at Harper with big hound dog eyes full of concern. “Gee, is this murder going to mess things up between your mother and the Hoovers?”

  “Not if I can help it,” Harper declared. “Jack, did you see anything out of the ordinary on Sunday as far as Grace was concerned? Anything she did or said to anyone in particular?”

  “You mean like having an argument or something?”

  Shoving his white cap to the back of his head, Jack scratched at his thinning hair.

  “Don't think so. I’d say most people would try and avoid running into Grace face-to-face so they wouldn’t have to talk to her.”

  Harper agreed most people would probably do just that. But someone did run into her and then bashed her in the head. Very face-to-face.

  At seventy-eight, Ida Aldwinkle was still sharp as a tack and still worked at the candy store which had been in her family for years. Harper considered the tiny silver-haired lady to be a little off the wall, but even if Ida gave in to occasional flights of fancy, her bright little bird’s eyes never missed a thing. Ida’s booth with salt water taffy, licorice whips, and hand-dipped chocolates had been set up in a high traffic area of the side yard and if anyone had noticed anything unusual on Sunday, Harper thought, chances were good it was Ida.

  Harper walked through the front door of Aldwinkle’s Candy Shoppe and Ida, dressed in a fleecy sweater and matching pants the color of pink cotton candy, scampered to greet her. Ida reminded Harper of a piece of her own saltwater taffy—soft, sweet, and all wrapped up in pastel paper.

  Patting Harper’s arm with a tiny wrinkled hand, Ida asked, “How is poor Olivia handling this terrible incident? It happened practically under her nose—all your noses, really. Murder in the backyard isn’t exactly what you want your business identified with, is it?”

  “No, it isn’t. Everyone will breathe easier once Grace’s killer is sitting behind bars.”

  Ida smiled up at Harper. “I’ve been keeping my doors locked at night just in case a crazy cuss is out there chopping up folks. Although I have a pretty good feeling Grace’s big mouth is what got her killed.”

  It would be a waste of time to beat around the bush with Ida, so Harper jumped right in and asked if she’d seen Grace arguing with anyone on Sunday.

  “You mean someone who looked as though they might like to shut her up?” Ida smiled shrewdly. “That would be about anyone who did talk to Grace, wouldn't it?”

  “I guess so,” Harper agreed.

  Ida blinked her eyes and tilted her head to one side, contemplating her thoughts. “I can’t say I did. See anyone arguing with Grace I mean. I noticed her walking toward the house a little before dusk, alone, and that’s the last I remember seeing her.”

  Harper was about to thank Ida when something in the woman’s little bird eyes caught her attention.

  “Was there something else you wanted to say?” Harper asked.

  “I can tell you what I saw on a day other than Sunday,” Ida answered, pointing a slender finger toward Turnbuckle’s Hardware Store across the street. “It was over a week ago, early morning, right after Roy Turnbuckle opened the store for the day. I saw Grace leaving, shall we say, quite suddenly. Yes, she left in a terrible hurry with Roy’s help.”

  “Why do you say with Roy’s help?”

  “Because Roy gave her the bum’s rush, and that’s a fact. He had his hand on her elbow and a dark scowl on his face. It was quite apparent he was throwing her out of his store. Afterward, she shook her finger in his face and it was clear they were both furious. He stormed back inside and Grace hot footed it to her car.”

  Roy and Glennis Turnbuckle were the longtime owners of Turnbuckle Hardware and the parents of Rachel Turnbuckle, one of ‘Olivia’s Girls’ the last few years.

  “I’ve known Roy and Glennis a very long time,” Ida said, “and I don’t ever remember seeing Roy so infuriated. He can get in a snit at times, but for the most part he’s pretty easygoing. I could tell all the way over here his face was beet red and his fists were balled up tight. If I had to describe the look on Grace’s face, I would say arrogant as well as angry. She always did go around with a puffed up ego, but whatever she said or did must have really set Roy off.”

  “You say this was several days ago?”

  “Yes. Over a week ago.”

  Harper picked up a bag of saltwater taffy from the spotlessly clean counter and walked slowly to the cash register.

  Ida rang up Harper’s purchase. “While I watched the two of them, I said to myself how lucky Grace was that Roy hadn’t grabbed a hammer or a crowbar before he escorted her so abruptly out of the hardware store, because he seemed furious enough to have used one on her.”

  Surprised at Ida’s words, Harper gazed out the window toward Turnbuckle’s Hardware. Here was someone else who had it in for Grace. While she paid for the bag of candy, she wondered what Roy had said to Grace. Then she realized what Grace had said to Roy would be the better question.

  Chapter Ten

  After checking in with Helen who assured her things at the antique shop were under control, Harper drove out to the Bittersweet Inn to check on her mother. Olivia sat at the kitchen table holding an empty tea cup while Violet stood at the sink with a frown on her face.

  “What’s wrong?” Harper asked, noting Violet’s scowl before taking a chair next to Olivia.

  “We’ve had another room cancellation,” Violet grumbled, viciously scrubbing some helpless carrots.

  “I don’t know what to do, Harper,” Olivia said. “Maybe I shouldn’t pack up anything else in case this sale doesn’t go through.”

  “It will go through,” Harper promised, retrieving a cup from the cupboard. She poured herself some tea and refreshed her mother’s cup.

  “I don’t care if that Alice person can see ghosts or whatever it is she thinks she sees,” Violet said, scrubbing a baking potato so hard Harper wondered if there would be any skin left to bake. “She didn’t have to be so rude.”

  “She wasn't rude, Violet.” Olivia sipped on her tea. “She only said she didn’t think she could live here until Grace’s spirit moves on.”

  “She’s a bitch,” Violet muttered under her breath.

  Olivia sighed. “Alice is just being honest.”

  “I wasn’t talking about Alice.”

  Olivia sighed a little louder this time and turned toward her daughter. “Why don’t you stay for supper?”

  “I’d love to, but only if I can help fix it,” Harper said, donning an apron. She was preparing to pound flour into a piece of round steak when a knock sounded on the kitchen door.

  “Come in,” Violet shouted.

  County Deputy Hal Kennedy bustled into the kitchen, took in the scene, and acknowledged Olivia with a tip of his hat.

  “Sorry to bother you, Mrs. Waterford, but Officer Landers and I have finished searching your land down by the river. Just wanted to let you know we didn’t find anything out there.”

  A second knock on the door elicited another shout from Violet to ‘come in’.

  Maggie McCarthy stepped across the threshold followed by Fred who carried a split oak basket.

  “We won’t stay long,” Maggie said with a smile.

  “Thought we’d bring over some of our extra eggs,” Fred added, setting the basket on the kitchen counter. He stepped back as Violet peek
ed into the basket.

  Noticing the deputy, Fred said, “Sorry, we didn’t realize you were busy.”

  “Just leaving,” the deputy replied.

  “Wait a minute. How is your investigation coming?” Harper asked before Hal could leave.

  “We’re checking out one of the couples who stayed at the Inn over the weekend, but there’s nothing definite yet,” replied Hal. “No prints on the hammer, of course. The Potter woman fell right where she was struck. We figure the perpetrator slipped through the stand of trees next to the shed and escaped down the little road leading to the river.”

  “Then he could have walked along the river’s edge for miles without being detected,” Fred said.

  “Yep, he could have gone in either direction. We’ve been scouting the riverbank. But it takes time to search such a large area.”

  “It was dark, though,” Harper said. “Couldn’t someone have killed Grace, just walked across the yard and disappeared into the crowd without being noticed?”

  “I suppose so,” answered the deputy, “but we don’t think that’s how it happened. Whoever did it would have wanted to get out of Dodge in a hurry, right? We’ll track him down, don’t worry.”

  Giving a nod, Deputy Kennedy bustled out of the kitchen the same way he bustled in.

  Harper wondered why the cops didn't realize there were people right in Bittersweet Hollow who had benefited from Grace’s death. Why hadn't they found the evidence she’d found? Yikes, she muttered to herself, probably because I’ve taken that evidence, which might be against the law.

  Okay, she knew there was no ‘might be’ about it. She’d hustled two incriminating letters as well as snagged a telling picture of Summer and Mickey, but it was water under the bridge now. Violet’s husky voice cut through her thoughts.

  “It’ll take ‘em weeks just to get from upstream to downstream,” Violet snorted.

  Harper supposed she could turn over the letters and the picture to the cops but then she could be in trouble for tampering with evidence. What if they arrested her for that? Besides, if she told the cops everything she’d discovered about her four suspects she’d be spilling the beans on two adulterous affairs and she didn’t want to do that if she didn’t have to.

  “Can I see you in the dining room a minute, Harper?” Maggie asked, cutting into Harper’s thoughts.

  “What is it? You look worried,” Harper said, following her friend to the dining room. Standing by the French doors looking out over the flower garden, Maggie said, “I didn’t want to mention this in front of Olivia. I know how upset she is and all. Anyway, remember when I told you how on Sunday night Fred and I sat on the hay wagon and noticed a couple walk toward the garden shed? Like I told you before, I wasn’t sure who it was. Fred, however, did recognize them. I wouldn’t think so much about it, except it would have been right around the time Grace was murdered. Maybe the couple saw something out there.”

  “Well, who was the couple?” Harper asked, assuming Maggie would say they watched Mickey and Summer meet up for a tryst.

  Instead, Maggie’s answer caused Harper’s mouth to drop open.

  “Roy and Glennis Turnbuckle.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The next morning raindrops began falling during Grace’s funeral, turning into a gully washer before the final hymn was sung. It’s as if the Heavens intended to wash Grace’s maliciousness out of Bittersweet Hollow, Harper thought, listening to thunder rumble overhead.

  She wasn’t surprised at the large turnout for the funeral. Small towns took care of their own. Neighbors bonded together. Acquaintances did what they could to help out. It was all about supporting a grieving member of the community, in this case, Grace’s husband. Harper believed the sympathy shown Marshall by folks in town was genuine even if they probably feigned their bereavement over Grace’s death. Harper also believed some people had attended the service simply because murder was involved.

  Harper arrived at the Church of the Merciful Redemption with Lonnie, Olivia, Violet and Ezra in tow. Pastor Lawrence Hart presided over the service. From her vantage point near the rear of the church, Harper easily observed three of the people she suspected might have had a hand, literally, in doing away with Grace. She considered the possibilities as she recollected what she knew about each one, making a few mental notes.

  Pastor Hart had moved to Bittersweet Hollow two years ago with his wife, Daphne, and their two young children. Daphne was well-respected in the community and despite running after her small children she chaired several church committees and oversaw the youth choir. Harper thought Daphne seemed to have all the attributes needed to be a clergyman’s wife but who really knew for sure. Lawrence was extremely handsome with his honey-blond hair, dark green eyes, and deep dimples on either side of a sensitive-looking mouth. Harper could understand why some of his female parishioners might be attracted to him. Apparently, Fannie Abbott had been tempted to look to Lawrence for more than spiritual guidance.

  Fannie. This wasn’t Fannie’s first rodeo by any means. Ten years ago she lassoed Bruce Abbott even though he was married to someone else at the time. Small town gossip being what it is, Harper had heard the buzz about more than a few of Fannie’s affairs since she married Bruce. Some women are like fireflies, Harper contemplated. They flash their light to lure a male for the sole purpose of having sex. Unfortunately, Lawrence had flashed back.

  Harper looked around the church. Her gaze rested on Mickey and Lucy O’Connell. Lucy was a respected nurse at the local medical clinic. She and Mickey had a daughter in college and a son in middle school. Lucy’s parents had money. Enough money to start Mickey up in his own business when he married Lucy. Like the proverbial sailor, Mickey had a girl in every port. The problem was, Mickey’s ports were too close to home and he always managed to get caught with his pants down. After Lucy announced to her bridge club that her husband would lose it all next time around, Mickey must have really sweated it when Grace caught him and Summer at a sleazy motel.

  All of the suspects on her list stood to lose everything they’d worked for—career, spouse, home, family.

  It was difficult to imagine a minister committing murder but it wasn’t unheard of. Harper could almost picture Lawrence following Grace into the shed, perhaps intending to ask her to forgive him for committing such a horrible sin, only to pick up the hammer and commit a greater one.

  Mickey might have lured Grace to the shed to try and talk her into destroying the telltale photo. Knowing Grace’s penchant for scandal she might have looked him in the eye and laughed at the idea, laughed right before Mickey picked up a hammer and swung it.

  On the other hand, it may have been unbearable for Grace’s archrival Fannie to know she had been caught doing the nasty with a married man, and a man of the cloth at that, by none other than the wickedest gossip in town. Fannie’s blow of the hammer could have been just as deadly as anyone else’s.

  Harper looked around the church for the forth person she believed could have murdered Grace—Summer Storm. It wasn’t without reason to consider a confrontation between the two women. As a matter of fact, it was at the top of her list. The damage which would occur when Lucy found out her own sister was sleeping with her husband may have been more than Summer could risk. And Summer certainly had a perfect opportunity during her work shift to meet up with Grace in the garden shed. Harper wasn’t surprised Summer was nowhere to be seen in the church.

  “I’m glad that’s over with,” Violet said, kicking off her sensible leather shoes as soon as she stepped into the kitchen of the Bittersweet Inn.

  “For Marshall’s sake I’m glad Grace had a decent sendoff,” Olivia said, while Harper helped her take off of her wet jacket. “She was his wife, after all, and I know it’s difficult for him. Especially since she was murdered.”

  “Maybe you should take a little rest, Mom,” Harper encouraged her mother. “It’s been a busy day.”

  “I am a little tired,” Olivia said. “Maybe we should all
have a rest.”

  “I’ll go for that,” Violet readily agreed. “We’ve had people dropping in left and right all week, just to take a look around. They pretend they want to see how Olivia is holding up through all of this, but what they really want is to see where Grace got whacked. And to make things worse, no one is booking rooms, only canceling them.”

  “It’s just morbid curiosity,” Ezra said, carefully wiping his shoes on the rug by the door. “I reckon they’ll quit showin’ up before very long.”

  “All this publicity,” Olivia said, a look of concern on her face, “and it’s the wrong kind of publicity.”

  “I’m sure Ezra is right, and everything will calm down soon,” Harper said. “Now that Grace is buried, things should get back to normal in no time.” However, she secretly worried normal wouldn’t return until an arrest was made.