Hope Callaghan - Garden Girls 04 - Death by Dumplings

by Hope Callaghan

  A car door slammed. The sound of a car engine drifted over to Gloria.

  Could she get this lucky? She whipped her head around, just in time to see Judith back her sedan out of the driveway and pull out onto the road.

  Her golden opportunity to snatch the shears was at hand. She pulled a clean tissue from her purse and bolted down the driveway. With a quick step, she crossed the street and followed the fence line along the back of Judith’s property. She prayed none of the neighbors were watching her through their curtains.

  Her heart thumped in her chest and her brow began to sweat. Her hand trembled as she twisted the knob on the metal shed and pulled the creaky door open.

  There, hanging on a hook near the door, were the pruning shears. Gloria grabbed the edge of the metal tip and slid them off. She eased the metal door shut and headed for the fence. She was almost to the street when she spied Carl’s truck coming from the opposite direction.

  She did an about face and prayed Carl didn’t notice her. She darted behind the neighbor’s house and out of sight. She waited for Carl to get out of his truck and go inside the house before she sprinted through the yard and across the street to her car.

  She yanked the back door open and laid the clippers on the seat, careful not to touch anything but the tip of the shear. She slid in the front seat, started the car and stepped on the gas as she tore out of the driveway. On the way to the corner, she passed Judith.

  Mission accomplished, she headed out of town towards Montbay Police Department.

  Paul stared at the pruning shears, fork and water glass. “Who did you say these belong to?”

  “The pruning shears are Judith Arnett’s. The lady who tried to steal from Dot’s restaurant just days before the murder,” she reminded him.

  She pointed at the fork and glass. “Those two belong to Brian Sellers,” Gloria said.

  “He’s my latest suspect,” she confided. “I found out he’s buying up all the real estate on Belhaven’s main street and now he wants to buy Dot’s place. He keeps sending her offers.”

  Paul leaned on his desktop and propped his head in his fist. “That doesn’t mean he’s a killer.”

  “Dot isn’t going to sell. He’s hounded her for months now. Maybe he hoped she’d change her mind if business dropped off after someone died eating the food,” she theorized.

  A light tap on the door interrupted the conversation. A woman poked her head inside. “Detective Osborne is here to see you.”

  Gloria slid out of the chair. “I’ll decide on him one way or the other after tonight,” she said.

  Great, Paul thought. This is what he hoped wouldn’t happen. “Let me guess. You’re going to stake out his place.”

  She shook her head. “No. I’m going to take a more direct approach this time. I’m going to walk right up to his front door and ask him point blank.”

  “Ask him what?”

  “If he poisoned Mike Foley in the restaurant,” she explained. “You know. The element of surprise. Maybe I can catch him off guard.”

  Paul rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s a different strategy,” he acknowledged. He walked her to the front lobby. “Give me a call after you get home. Just so I know you’re safe.”

  After a quick peck on the cheek, he held the door open and she stepped outside. It was that precise moment, he dropped a bomb. “We have a suspect.”

  Gloria spun around. “You do? Who is it?”

  He shook his head. “I can’t say yet.”

  “Can you tell me if it’s someone I already mentioned?”

  “It’s not.”

  Gloria clenched her fists and shook them in the air. “Ohhh. This is going to drive me crazy,” she said. “Do I know the suspect?”

  Paul nodded. “Yes and for everyone’s sake, I hope we’re wrong.”

  Gloria grabbed the handrail and took a step down. Her head was spinning. Someone she hadn’t considered yet? Someone she knew?

  She reached the bottom step before coming to an abrupt halt. What if they suspected Dot’s husband Ray? She shook her head and dismissed the thought. No way was it Ray. He had opportunity - but what about motive?

  Why would the police suspect him? Were his prints on the empty toilet bowl cleaner? Gloria’s hand flew to her mouth. That was it! They had his prints on the empty container!

  She wandered into the road and the path of an oncoming car. The horn blared. Gloria clutched her chest as she jumped out of the way. She mouthed the words “sorry” and scooted the rest of the way across the street.

  A stop at the first of three attorneys was next on her list. More of what she considered to be an interview process.

  After the first meeting, Gloria had a greater appreciation for putting things in a will so someday down the road – after she was gone – what she intended to leave for her children and grandchildren wouldn’t end up tied up in the courts for years.

  She made it to the other two attorney appointments, careful to jot down notes and ask questions.

  After the final meeting, Gloria decided, at least for herself, to go with the first attorney. The woman, Patricia Caldwell. Not that they all didn’t come across as competent and knowledgeable. She felt she related best to her. Maybe because she seemed more personable. The fact that she had several pictures of her grandchildren displayed on her desk and her credenza gave Gloria a good feeling. And Gloria almost always went with her gut.

  She had one more stop to make. Brian Seller’s house. She hit the edge of town when Nails and Knobs, the hardware store on the corner, caught her attention. She pulled into a spot out front and got out. She needed propane for her gas grill and the cookout was only a couple days away. She could kill two birds with one stone if the owner, Brian Sellers, was inside.

  She climbed the single step and pushed open the antique glass door. The inside of the place hadn’t changed in over 30 years. If anything, it was more charming than ever.

  The original hardwood floors creaked lightly as Gloria made her way down the center aisle. To Gloria, the best thing about the store were the odds and ends, bits and pieces. A little of everything. Stuff the newer big box stores never carried. At least the new owner, Mr. Sellers, kept the store close to its original charm. And why wouldn’t he? They did a very brisk business, even in a town as small as Belhaven.

  She spied her target straight ahead. He was behind a long wooden counter, ringing up a roll of porch screen.

  Gloria glanced from side to side as she made her way to the back. There were buckets of bolts, bins of door hinges. A sign above the cash register said, “We cut glass.”

  The customer grabbed his screen and sidestepped Gloria as he passed her on the way out.

  She studied the young man as she moved closer. He didn’t look like a cold-blooded killer. His cropped, jet black hair stuck straight up – like he jelled it that way. It reminded her of the stuff her mom used to use when she rolled her hair. What was it called? Dippity Do. That’s what it was!

  His intense blue eyes were striking. If she had to guess, she’d say he was in his early 30’s. “Can I help you?”

  “Yes, I need a propane tank for my gas grill,” Gloria explained.

  “Yes, ma’am. I can take care of that for you. Do you need anything else?” he asked.

  Before she could change her mind, Gloria blurted out. “You’re the one trying to buy Dot’s restaurant.”

  Brian Sellers leaned forward on the counter, his gaze met Gloria’s. “Yes ma’am. I am,” he admitted.

  “You heard about the poisoning.” It was a statement. Not a question.

  “An unfortunate accident,” he said.

  “Say. You look familiar.” He snapped his fingers. “You’re the one that’s a bit of a legend around here. The lady detective that catches the criminal every time.” His eyes narrowed. “Gloria…something.”

  “Rutherford,” she said. “Gloria Rutherford.”

  “Oh…now I see.” He straightened back up. “You’re here because yo
u think I’m a suspect.”

  Brian Sellers shoved his hands in his front pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Do I look like a killer?” he asked.

  “No,” she admitted.

  “Are you sure?” His eyes twinkled as he choked back a laugh. “Don’t you want to interrogate me?”

  He leaned his elbows on the counter again and crossed this arms. “Ask me anything. Anything at all.”

  Gloria could’ve been offended. Maybe she should’ve been offended but she wasn’t. Instead, he was entertaining her.

  She plopped her purse on the counter and hopped up on the barstool at the edge of the counter. “Since you offered…”

  He held up a finger. “Can I get you a cup of coffee before we get started?” He didn’t wait for an answer as he grabbed two cups off the shelf behind him.

  He poured the coffee and slid one across the counter towards Gloria. “Cream or sugar?”

  Gloria grabbed that handle. “Thanks. I like mine black.”

  “Me, too,” he agreed. “So back to my interrogation. Do you want to know where I was the morning of the murder?”

  He took a sip of coffee, set it down and tapped his lip, as if in deep thought. “I walked my dog early. Around 6 a.m., I think. Then I came here to work. I opened around 8, I guess.”

  “What kind of dog?” Gloria interrupted.

  “Is he a suspect, too?” Brian shot back.

  Gloria grinned. “No!” The man had a way of putting others at ease. He was teasing her. But in a good way.

  “Finn’s a Great Dane and a big baby. Sometimes I let him come to work with me,” he confided.

  He went on. “I took a lunch break somewhere between 11:30 and noon. I went home to let Finn out. I warmed up some leftovers and then came back here.”

  “I heard you have a beautiful home,” she said.

  “Stop by sometime. I’ll give you a tour,” he offered.

  Gloria took a sip of coffee and changed the subject. “What did you do before coming to Belhaven and start buying up our small town?”

  Mr. Sellers wrapped his hands around the cup. He took a drink as he studied Gloria over the rim. “I was a circuit court judge.”

  “A judge?” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. He looked too young to have been a judge. It was as if he read her mind.

  “One of the youngest judges in the State of Michigan,” he said. “And I’m not as young as I look.”

  Well I’ll be darned.” She sighed. “I guess I’ll have to rule you out as suspect.”

  “Judges can be killers, too,” he pointed out.

  He almost seemed disappointed. “Does that mean you don’t have any more questions for me?”

  Gloria swallowed the last drop of coffee and set the cup on his side of the counter. “No. It appears you’re off the hook. But I still need that tank of propane.”

  He grabbed her cup and set it in the sink along with his before he turned back around to ring up her purchase. “I’ll meet you out front.”

  She wandered back through the door and waited on the sidewalk. She opened the rear car door as Brian slid the heavy metal tank onto the floor. He straightened his back. “I was serious about the tour. If you want to stop by sometime.”

  Gloria nodded. “I would like that.”

  She stood still for a moment and gazed into the brightest blue eyes she’d ever seen. Her heart fluttered. If she were decades younger – several decades - he would be on her radar.

  She narrowed her eyes. Attractive. Single. She glanced down to confirm the lack of a wedding ring. Hardworking. He would be a real catch for the right girl… “Say, what are you doing Saturday night?”

  “This Saturday?”

  Gloria nodded.

  “Finn and I haven’t made any plans yet.” That confirmed his single status.

  Gloria opened the driver’s side door. “I’m having a cookout at my place Saturday around 6. Would you like to come?”

  “As long as you don’t pressure Dot and her husband Ray to sell their place,” she warned.

  Brian grinned. He made an “X” across his chest and then held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

  She recited her address. “Do you want to write the address down?”

  “No. I think I’ve got it.” A small frown shadowed his face. “Are you sure you want me there? Dot and Ray won’t mind?”

  “Yes. I think you’ll fit in quite well with our group.” She slid into the driver’s seat and gave a small wave as she backed out of the parking spot.

  He seemed like such a nice, young man. Ambitious, funny, handsome. Her eyebrows furrowed briefly. Paul would think she was double-matchmaking. First Liz and now Andrea. Oh well. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

  She made a mental note to stop inviting people for the cookout. The list was getting out of hand!

  The rest of the week flew by. She spent Thursday morning with Jill and the boys. They wandered up and down the aisles at the flea market. Most of the stuff was just junk but there were also a few treasures, including an old metal milk carton. Gloria decided it was perfect for a turning into a flower pot for her porch.

  There was one brief mishap when Ryan, her youngest grandson, came up missing. They spent a good hour searching the crowded aisles for the stinker.

  On her second trip ‘round the entire place Gloria paused. If I were a young boy, where would I go? She wondered. She headed for the animal auction building. There was no sign of him.

  Her eyes scanned the rows of sellers, peddling their wares. Off in the far corner was a small cluster of Amish buggies. The Amish came every Thursday to sell baked goods and homemade quilts. They did a brisk business. After all, who can resist homemade baked goods? Her eyes narrowed. Not a young boy!

  Gloria made a beeline for the buggies. She spied a pair of sneakers – familiar sneakers – poking out next to a large, spoked wheel. She thrust a hand on her hip. “Ryan Adams. Come out here this instant!”

  The feet disappeared and a blonde head peeked out from the black frame. “Hi Grams.” She knelt down. On closer inspection, she noticed his face was covered with chunks of chocolate and dried vanilla icing. An empty wrapper was on the ground next to him. “Where did you get that?”

  His blonde head twisted wildly. “They gave it to me.”

  “Who gave it to you?”

  “One of the ladies with a white hat.” Gloria glanced up. All of the Amish women wore white hair coverings!

  She made her way around the side of the buggy where a small cluster of women stood. Ryan followed behind. A sticky hand reached for hers and her heart melted. She looked down. Large green eyes met hers. How could she stay mad at a face like that? She squeezed his hand.

  “My grandson, here, seems to have enjoyed one of your baked goods. He said someone gave it to him.”

  A young Amish girl who couldn’t have been more than 12 years old stepped forward. “I-I hope you don’t mind.” She glanced down at Ryan who still had Gloria’s hand in a tight grip. “He said he was hungry. And lost.”

  Gloria shook her head. “That’s fine, dear. I just wanted to thank you and make sure we didn’t owe you for the treats.” She opened her purse and pulled out her wallet.

  The girl reached out her hand to stop her. “No, ma’am. No charge.” Gloria closed her purse. “Thank you.”

  She ruffled Ryan’s hair as they walked off in search of Jill and Tyler, who were headed their way.

  The rest of the afternoon flew by and before she knew it, Jill and the boys were gone.

  By the time Saturday – the day of the cookout - rolled around – Gloria was in a semi-state of panic. She was feverishly working on her Oreo Cookie Cream dessert when she heard a light tap on the porch door. Gloria flung the door open. It was Andrea. “I’m here to help.”

  Her eyes shot heavenward. “Thank God!”

  Gloria wasted no time. She grabbed her arm and pulled her inside. “How did you know?”

  She dropped an apron over her head and promptl
y put her to work slicing tomatoes, chopping onions, assembling hamburger patties.

  Andrea frowned at the tower of hamburger patties. “How many people did you invite?”

  Gloria wiped her hands on her own apron. She grabbed a head of cabbage and a sharp knife from the wooden knife block. With expert precision, she chopped the cabbage down the center. “I lost count.”

  Paul arrived next. She sent him back outside to set up tables and folding chairs under the big oak tree on the back side of the yard.

  Margaret and Don arrived, followed by Dot and Ray. Lucy and Bill were close behind. By the time Gloria hung up her apron, she had a full house and Paul was doing an excellent job entertaining the guests.

  She peeked through the edge of the curtains and smiled with pride. Even though he’d never met half of the guests that were there, he acted as if he’d known them for years. Yes, he fit in the small town of Belhaven quite nicely.

  Slick Steve was next. He stood off to the side uncertainly. Gloria was just about to head out and greet him when Liz wandered over. She watched as Liz pulled him into the crowd.

  The last to arrive to the party was Brian Sellers. He parked his sleek blue SUV at the end of the row of cars, near the road. He was getting a good bit of attention, especially from Dot and Ray. With everything going on, she hadn’t had a chance to tell them he was coming.

  She weaved her way around her guests and came up next to him. “I’m glad you could make it, Brian.”

  His blue eyes crinkled at the corner. “You sure know how to throw a shin-dig!”

  “Just a few friends from town.” She reached for his arm. “Come on. What would you like to drink – iced tea or lemonade?”

  “Lemonade please.”

  They wound their way to the top of the porch where Paul was standing. Brian’s hand shot out. “Hi. I’m Brian. Brian Sellers.”

  Paul shook his hand. “Paul Kennedy.”