Blackberry Burial

by Sharon Farrow

  This only caused him to breathe faster. Any moment, he would hyperventilate. I wondered if they could use a spare evidence bag for him to breathe into.

  “A skeleton?” This time, his agitated gaze embraced me as well. “I should have known better than to agree to anything the pair of you are involved with. Especially after that awful Bowman murder.”

  “I solved the murder,” I protested. “Why are you blaming me?”

  “I blame both of you for coming on this property and finding bodies. How do you think this will look for my business? I keep my company’s plumbing equipment here. And what were you even doing in the woods? Were the two of you planning to break into my house next?”

  “Sir, I need you to calm down,” Holt ordered. “Ms. Jacob and Mrs. Lyall-Pierce do not appear to be responsible for the dead body buried in the woods. It is you and your family who own the land where the remains were discovered.”

  “That’s not strictly true.” Gordon took a deep breath in an obvious effort to control himself. “After my parents died, my brothers and sister sold their shares of the farm and our plumbing supply company to me.”

  “Then we’ll need to speak with anyone in the family who has lived here in the past. Now we’d like you to come with us to where the skeletal remains were found.”

  When Sanderling opened his mouth to object, Holt added, “That was not a request.”

  Gordon seemed to see both Holt and Trejo for the first time, his ire being initially directed toward us. “Of course, Officer. I’ll do whatever the police and the sheriff’s department require.” He shot another resentful glance at Piper and me. “But I refuse to allow the road rally to come anywhere near my farm. You two will have to find another person stupid enough to let you do so. And I want you both off my property as soon as possible.”

  For once, even Piper didn’t have a rejoinder. As for me, I doubted anything I said would make the situation better. I only hoped the Cabot brothers were wrong about the Sanderling farm being a jinx. It hadn’t worked out well so far. This year’s Blackberry Road Rally had gotten off to an unlucky—and deadly—start.

  Chapter 3

  Although Ryan greeted me with a kiss, he looked more suspicious than pleased by our sudden appearance at Zellar Orchards. It was one thing for me to drop in on him unannounced, but not with Piper in tow. Ryan had little patience with Piper’s “lady of the manor” attitude.

  “I didn’t expect to see you here, especially with the Fourth only a few days away,” he said. “What’s up?”

  “Just wanted to stop and say hi. We were checking out one of the road rally locations, and Zellars was on the way.” I turned to wave at the brown hulk in my car. “And Piper adopted a Great Dane from Aunt Vicki. He’s the sweetest thing, even if he barely fits in my car. His name’s Charlie.”

  “It’s Charlemagne.” Busy texting on her phone, Piper didn’t bother to look up from her screen.

  Ryan raised his eyebrows at the large canine barking at us from the open backseat window. “Don’t let him out. The beagles are running around the fields, and the barn cats are everywhere. Not to mention all the visitors here for U-Pick. Due to the early bumper crop for raspberries, traffic’s been heavy all morning. I don’t need some monster dog scaring the crap out of everyone.”

  Piper sniffed. “He is not a monster. Charlemagne is the exact size he should be for a purebred Great Dane. You’re simply too accustomed to those little beagles. And you should know that both breeds are hunting dogs.”

  “Yeah, and I don’t want your dog hunting mine,” Ryan said.

  “Honestly,” she muttered.

  Two beagles came tearing out from behind the barn, barking in response to Charlie’s loud appearance. All three dogs set up such a racket Ryan grabbed the beagles by their collars and gave them a stern talking-to. When he pointed to the fields, the dogs scampered off, albeit with a last longing look at Charlie.

  “I’ve told Dad that we need to keep the dogs over in the apple orchards for the summer,” he said. “They’re having too much fun with some of the U-Pickers. The dogs, I mean. Not the people.”

  He was right about how busy Zellars was today. I had pulled up to the largest barn on the property—one of several—where a driveway led to the extensive berry patches out back. In the summer, this was where a Zellar family member would be stationed to guide cars to the correct U-Pick parking lot. In the short time we stood there, at least five cars drove past us. Like Crane Orchards in nearby Allegan County, Zellars was one of the most successful growers in west Michigan’s famed fruit belt. Visitors came from as far away as Indiana and Illinois to pick Zellar cherries, peaches, berries, apples, and pumpkins.

  Farther down the road lay the Zellar Farm Pantry, where pies made with orchard fruit were sold, along with apple butter, jams, and jellies. The orchards had been here since 1908, expanding every decade until the Zellars owned over two hundred acres. All five Zellar sons lived on or near the property, as did their parents. As Ryan’s fiancée, I was expected to call this home when we married next January. Ryan planned to build a house for us on several adjoining acres, and it was assumed I would be spending far more time in the country than in Oriole Point. The only person who didn’t assume this was me.

  “Why are you out here directing traffic?” I asked. “Isn’t driveway duty for the grandkids and younger cousins?”

  “J.J. had to bring more bags out to the U-Pick scales. I’m holding down the fort until he gets back.” He glanced over at a car that pulled up the driveway, then stopped. “Hold on.”

  While he answered the driver’s questions about the U-Pick, I turned to Piper. “You’re being rude. Ryan’s not crazy about you as it is. But texting on the phone without saying ‘hi’ is something one of the Zellar kids would do. Or Natasha.”

  “One, I’m not enamored of Ryan, either. I have no idea why you’re marrying him.” Piper finally switched her phone off. “Two, don’t compare me to that ridiculous Russian. She’s never had a serious thought in her life. On the other hand, I am trying to take care of business. I texted Barbara Duchovic to see if we could use their farm to launch the road rally.”

  “Are you crazy? Why did you do that? The bank just foreclosed on their property.”

  “I hoped they wouldn’t have to vacate the premises for at least a month. But she told me they’re moving out next week.” She frowned. “Bad timing for us.”

  “Yes. For the Duchovics, too.” This road rally was turning into far too big a problem. “Please don’t ask anyone else for the use of their farm without clearing it with me first. FYI, families about to lose their home are not on our list.”

  “We’re running out of time, Marlee. Don’t blame me if I resort to extreme measures. I hope you have some leverage with Mr. Zellar, even if he doesn’t seem to be in an agreeable mood today. Then again, he rarely is.”

  “That’s not true.” I refused to let Piper irritate me. The day was problematic enough. “Ryan’s one of the most laid-back people I know. Everyone in Oriole County thinks he’s a great guy.”

  “Certainly the women do. Oh, I will admit Ryan is a good-looking man. Almost pretty, with that sandy blond hair and those blue eyes. Why wouldn’t the ladies be bowled over by him?” She regarded me with a mixture of pity and disappointment. “Only I never thought you would be one of them. All that female attention is probably why he acts so entitled.”

  “Entitled?” I couldn’t help but laugh. Talk about calling the kettle black. “Ryan is a sweet, unpretentious guy who loves me. And I love him. He’ll be my husband in a few months, too. Now for the sake of our friendship, please don’t say another word against him.”

  “Fine. Besides, I have more important things to worry about, like this road rally crisis.”

  “What’s this about a crisis?” Ryan asked as he rejoined us.

  I took a deep breath. “We have a little favor to ask.”

  His expression grew even more guarded. “If you’ve come to ask us to contribute
money to the fireworks fund, forget it. My family’s already paying for half of this year’s display. Try hounding the O’Neills instead. They haven’t paid for anything since the 2006 Hog Roast. The Zellars can’t be the town’s sole source of money.”

  Piper cleared her throat. “Lionel and I are paying for the remainder of the fireworks fund this year. We’re sponsoring the Halloween parade as well.”

  “My family is the primary sponsor of the Pumpkinfest,” he shot back.

  I held up my hand. “Stop. This isn’t a philanthropist of the year contest. Ryan, I know you think the road rally is stupid, but the Zellars have allowed the rally to begin here in the past. That’s why we thought of you. You see, we’ve run into a little problem.”

  Ryan crossed his arms. “How little?”

  “Tiny.” I squeezed my index finger and thumb together. “We planned to begin the rally at the Grunkemeyer farm, but a tourist walked on their property and cut their leg on a post auger. There may be a lawsuit, and now Henry and Carol are afraid to host the event in case someone else gets injured. Gordon Sanderling agreed to let us begin the rally at his farm, so we went out there this morning to check things out.” I hesitated, uncertain how to continue.

  “And?”

  “Charlie got loose, ran off into the woods, and I went to bring him back.” I grimaced. “When I finally caught up with him, I discovered he’d dug up a dead body.”

  Ryan did a double take. “What?”

  “He dug up a dead body.”

  “It was a skeleton,” Piper corrected. “Marlee makes it seem as though Charlemagne unearthed a fully clothed corpse.”

  “Excuse me, but I’m out there alone in the woods and I come upon a human skull with an entire skeleton attached. Some part of me is still in shock. I’ll have nightmares all week.”

  Piper waved a dismissive hand at me. “Gordon now refuses to give us permission to start the rally there. He acted as though we buried the body in his woods. When, for all we know, he’s responsible for the body.”

  “Oh, he is not.”

  “Marlee, what do we really know about Gordon Sanderling? If you ask me, he seemed far too angry when he arrived at the farm today. I think he was deflecting attention from us.”

  “Or he could have been upset I found a dead body on his property.”

  Ryan didn’t look happy. “If this is some sort of sick joke, it’s not funny.”

  I gave him a weary look. “As if I have time to spread macabre stories during the week of the Fourth. I found a skeleton, the police are involved, Gordon is unhappy, and we don’t have a place to begin the Blackberry Road Rally. Which brings us to the reason we’re here.”

  “Sorry, Marlee,” Ryan said. “But we’ve hosted the rally three times. Last time, a rally car ran down one of our ducks. Six years ago, several cars took a wrong turn and went into our pumpkin patch. They crushed a quarter of our pumpkin crop. The year before that, one of the drivers had a heart attack as the clue envelopes were being passed out.”

  I bit my lip. “I’m guessing you’re not eager about doing it again.”

  “The Zellars have washed their hands of the Raspberry Road Rally.” Ryan looked hard at Piper. “Along with the Blackberry Road Rally and whatever name you come up with in the future.”

  Piper turned to me with “I told you so” written all over her face.

  I kissed him on the cheek. “We shouldn’t have bothered you. Piper and I are responsible for the rally this year. It’s our problem.”

  Ryan hugged me. “Babe, I’m sorry to turn you down,” he whispered in my ear. “But my family will kill me if I let the rally anywhere near here.”

  I hugged him back. “Don’t worry. We’ll work it out.”

  “I’d like to know how,” Piper said.

  “I have an idea,” I reassured her. “I’ll tell you about it in the car. Why don’t you wait for me there while I say good-bye to Ryan?”

  Piper shot us a mocking smile. “Young love.”

  “She doesn’t like me,” Ryan said with a chuckle as Piper marched back to the car. “Of course, I’m not thrilled with her, either. I think the only friend of yours I genuinely like is Tess.”

  “I hope that’s not true.” I loved all my friends, even the exasperating ones like Piper and Natasha.

  “What I hope isn’t true is you being involved with another murder.”

  “No one is officially saying the body I found was murdered. And it looks like this person died years ago. Aside from a few more questions, the police are probably done with me.”

  Ryan brushed the hair back from my face. “Last month was bad enough. You were almost killed. Twice. If there’s any chance you’re in danger again, I want you to leave on a nice long vacation.”

  “During high season? Never.” I squeezed his hand. “But I’m not in any danger, unless you want to count being harassed by Piper.”

  “Are you okay?” He looked at me with those dreamy blue eyes that always made me catch my breath, like a palpitating heroine in a romance novel. Small wonder the rest of the female population found him so appealing. “Finding the body must have been a nasty shock.”

  “I’m fine,” I reassured him. “But I hope you plan to spend the night at my house. I wasn’t kidding about having nightmares.”

  He kissed me. “I’ll be there as soon as we finish spraying the blueberries. It will be late, though, around eight-thirty. And I have to be up early tomorrow. Before six.”

  “Hey, I’m marrying a farmer. I know all about the hours.”

  After another long kiss, I went back to my car, then pulled away from Zellars with a last wave. Charlie stuck his head over the seat and licked my cheek with touching enthusiasm.

  Piper crossed her legs and arms, assuming a challenging posture. “You said back there you had an idea about where we can begin the rally.”

  “I do. The owner has to agree, but I’m pretty sure it’s a done deal.”

  “Really? Who is this person?”

  I glanced over at her. “You.”

  Piper’s mouth fell open. “Excuse me?”

  “It makes perfect sense to start at Lyall House. You and Lionel live on a huge piece of property overlooking the lake. You’ve got room enough to hold dozens of cars. And the road leading to your home goes nowhere near downtown, so there won’t be any traffic problems.”

  “I can’t have all those rally cars at my house,” she spluttered.

  “Why not? Unlock the gates and assign your staff to supervise things outside. All you have to do is greet everyone on your front steps.”

  I could see Piper desperately trying to figure out how to get out of this, except it made perfect sense. “I-I refuse to allow strangers to roam through my house.”

  “No one will go anywhere near your house. The rally participants only leave their cars to get the clue envelopes. C’mon, Piper. You can’t ask other families to host the rally without expecting the duty to fall on you one day.”

  “There must be someone else. Maybe if we went back to the Grunkemeyers . . . ”

  I gave her a stern look.

  Piper sat back with an exaggerated sigh. “Very well. Lionel and I will host the rally this year. After all, we’ve already done so much for this town. Why not this?”

  Relief washed over me. The problem of where to begin the Blackberry Road Rally had been solved, and I could get back to work at The Berry Basket. There was that little matter of the dead body at the Sanderling farm, but how did that concern me? I was just an innocent bystander when Charlie went into a digging frenzy.

  As I turned onto Blue Star Highway, I mulled over what had happened today. I wasn’t a superstitious person, but discovering a buried skeleton had unnerved me. “Piper, do you think there’s any truth to the Sanderling farm being unlucky? The Cabot brothers could be right. Maybe it is cursed. The last thing I expected to see on the Sanderling farm was a skeleton.”

  “It certainly was the last thing Gordon expected.” Piper scrolled throug
h her phone messages. “And the farm isn’t cursed. However, I’m starting to worry this road rally is.”

  “Why have you never heard rumors about the farm being haunted and unlucky? You know everything that goes on in Oriole Point. How did you miss this?”

  “It’s all I can do to keep track of the events and people in the village. I don’t have time to worry about what goes on in the rest of the county. And that includes the Sanderling farm.” Piper finally put her phone away. “Let’s stop by my house to figure out how we should direct the rally cars.”

  “You and Lionel can work on that. I have three big product shipments due any day, and we’re setting up a Fourth of July ‘Red, White, and Blue’ sale. I’m also working with my baker, Theo, on the pastry menu. I found some Colonial American berry desserts I’d like him to whip up for the shop. One of them is a peach raspberry strudel that sounds delicious.”

  “Well, I have even more to do. You’re only responsible for one little store. I have to oversee the Fourth of July events for all of Oriole Point.”

  “Piper, you’re the head of the tourist center, not secretary of state.”

  “None of you appreciate the weight of responsibility I have shouldered all these years. This entire region depends on tourism—”

  “And farming, and fishing, and furniture manufacture—”

  This time she interrupted me. “Nonetheless, tourism is the lifeblood of the lakeshore towns and villages. If the tourists don’t come, everyone’s business suffers. And that includes The Berry Basket. It is my job to find ways to attract as many vacation visitors as possible.”

  I grinned. “Lake Michigan does a pretty good job of attracting people all on its own.”

  “Even the Great Lakes can benefit from my assistance.”

  “Fine.” I refused to argue with a person who thought she was an equal player with Lake Michigan. “But be careful when you visit the rally locations to leave the clues. And when you do, I have a word of advice.”

  “Which is?” Piper asked impatiently.

  I jerked my thumb at the backseat. “Leave the dog at home. This big baby has dug up enough trouble for one summer.”