Blackberry Burial

by Sharon Farrow

  Peeking over the top of her sunglasses, Officer Davenport gazed around my empty store. “I see business is booming.”

  “This is a berry shop, not an airline terminal. Customers come in waves.” I met her cool smile with one of my own. “And business has been good today. If you had a warrant, I’d let you see our receipts. Otherwise you’ll have to take my word for it.”

  “I can’t believe you make a living selling these products. Blueberry beef jerky, strawberry coffee, cranberry cocoa, blackberry butter. And these crazy drink mash-ups.” She glanced at the bottle of blackberry ginger pomegranate iced tea I’d been drinking with lunch.

  “Tastes great. You should try it.” I took a long swig. “And I’ve paid all my bills for two years by selling these berry products. I even make a profit. Amazing, isn’t it?”

  “I’d call it shocking.”

  We stared at each other. “Is there an official reason you’re here?” I asked finally.

  “The Sienna Katsaros case. You were seen having breakfast this morning with four people who attended BAS with her.”

  “So?”

  “So why are you associating with people who are suspects in the girl’s disappearance?”

  “First, I can meet with anyone I like. Second, the case isn’t in the jurisdiction of the Oriole Point police. Third, how do you know I had breakfast with them? Am I being followed?”

  “You’re not important enough to tail, Marlee. And you know perfectly well no one in town can trip in the street without half the population knowing about it an hour later. Now why were you with these people at the Sourdough Café?”

  Although I didn’t like being questioned like this, I refused to let Janelle rile me. “I repeat, I can meet with anyone I like. Last time I looked, I hadn’t been accused of a crime.”

  “You did discover the remains of Sienna Katsaros.”

  “Am I a suspect now?” I couldn’t help but laugh. “I was ten when she disappeared. Back then, I was busy watching episodes of Doug on Nickelodeon. Murdering people would have cut into my TV time.”

  An embarrassed flush rose to her cheeks. “I didn’t say you were a suspect. But you’ve now found two dead bodies this summer.”

  “Both of them accidental. And I did capture the killer the first time.”

  “Are you planning on a repeat performance? Trying to interfere with a police investigation in hopes of getting a little more media glory if you’re successful?”

  “Oh, I see. You’re worried I’ll show up the Oriole Point police again. Don’t worry. If anyone gets shown up, it will be the state police. Detective Trejo’s handling the case.”

  “Along with the sheriff department’s Atticus Holt,” she said. “It appears the two of you have gotten rather cozy. You were seen together last night at the opening ceremony at BAS.”

  “I guess I am important enough to tail. However, I’m not a suspect in this case and you know it.” I leaned over the counter. “And I attended BAS for two summers. I have every right to be on campus conversing with anyone who took a class there. That includes murder suspects.”

  “Don’t be naïve, Marlee. One of them may be a killer. Stay out of this.”

  “Are you done? Is there more?”

  “I’d keep a close eye on your baker. You should remember that a bracelet he made for the victim was found buried with her.”

  “And you should remember Theo has an alibi for the time of her murder.”

  “Let’s see if it holds up. I’ve heard your odd little baker was extremely upset when he heard Sienna’s body was discovered. Seems suspicious to me.”

  I was relieved when a customer came into the shop. After waving a greeting, the older man wandered over to a shelf of berry-flavored jams and jellies. “Theo has every right to be upset. He was friends with the dead girl,” I said in a quiet voice. “As for his alibi, the sheriff and the state police are satisfied with it. If you’re not, get yourself officially assigned to the case. Or else you might upset the officers who are trying to do their job.”

  “The same applies to you, Marlee. At least I’m a police officer. You’re merely a shopkeeper who doesn’t want to believe one of her employees might be a murderer.”

  I looked over at my customer to see if he might be eavesdropping. I didn’t need rumors spreading about The Berry Basket and the people who worked here. “He’s not a murderer,” I said in an even lower voice. “And I don’t want this discussed when I have customers.”

  “You should be more concerned your baker might not be what he seems. The Oriole Point police may not be officially connected to the case, but our help has been sought nonetheless. And we’re more skilled than you give us credit for. For example, we’ve learned Theo Foster was arrested in Illinois fourteen years ago.”

  “I don’t believe it,” I said after a stunned moment. “Why would the police arrest him?”

  Janelle whipped off her sunglasses. “For committing a crime.” Almost as startling as this statement was the sight of Janelle’s rarely seen blue-gray eyes.

  “What did he do?”

  “Broke the law and resisted arrest.” She was toying with me . . . and enjoying it.

  Although I had every intention of finding out what Theo had been arrested for, I had better sources of information than Officer Davenport. “Whatever he was arrested for, I’m sure it was a misunderstanding.”

  Janelle rolled her eyes before hiding them once again with her sunglasses. “A misunderstanding, or something unpleasant enough to conceal? I suspect more than a girl’s body was buried twenty years ago. Some of the people associated with Sienna seem to have a few buried secrets as well. I’d watch my back the next time you get chummy with the BAS crowd.”

  Janelle walked out after her dramatic statement, leaving me more confused than ever. Not even my customer’s purchase of four jars of lingonberry jam lifted my mood. And while I didn’t want to insult or offend my baker, I decided it was time to talk to Theo Foster’s father.

  * * *

  I lifted the small tiki god over my head and let out another victory yell. For the past hour, BAS alumni had taken part in limbo contests, each one divided according to age groups. I was proud to be declared the winner in my group. Although I couldn’t believe I contorted my five foot seven body beneath the limbo pole without dislodging it. If I’d been larger than a B cup, I would have lost to runner-up Vanessa, whose enhanced breasts finally brought the pole down.

  “I never doubted you would win.” Ryan stood behind me, his arms wrapped around my waist. “I’ll crash at your place tonight if you promise to show me some of your new moves.”

  “Leave it to you to get turned on by a limbo contest.”

  “I’m not the only one. Look at them.” He laughed at the group of guys watching a pretty blonde in a yellow bikini bend over backward beneath the limbo pole. He was right. Depending on your view of the contestants, doing the limbo was more than a little suggestive.

  “Well, I’m thankful my limbo moves have convinced you to give up a night with the Ohio Zellars for me.” Indeed, Ryan only attended tonight’s BAS luau because Little Pete and his fellow cousins didn’t want to miss the fun.

  He nuzzled my neck. “I’ll take ‘limbo love’ over my cousins any day.”

  I almost believed him. Then Little Pete whistled from the long line at the barbecue pit. He held up a beer bottle. “Ryan, they put more ribs on. Come and get it before they’re all gone.”

  “Am I wrong or did you and Little Pete eat a rack of ribs about an hour ago?”

  “Those are great ribs, babe. Diego’s in charge of the food tonight and he brought his secret sauce. I can’t turn down Diego Theroux ribs. Especially when they’re free.” He gave me a kiss on the top of my head, then sprinted off to Little Pete and the next mountain of pork.

  To be honest, I couldn’t blame Ryan. Diego Theroux was the chef/owner of San Sebastian, the most celebrated eatery in Oriole Point. The handsome, sexy Diego was also the best man candy along the l
akeshore. Tonight his gray tank top and surfer shorts did an excellent job displaying his tanned, muscled body. While the men lining up at the barbecue pit waited for a slab of ribs, I suspected the females clustered around Diego were more interested in the chef himself. I liked Diego and adored his food, but even if I hadn’t been engaged to Ryan I would have steered clear of the “Delicious Diego.” Men that gorgeous could never be satisfied with one woman. And it would be unreasonable to expect them to.

  Tess walked over. “I see Ryan’s returned to the rib feeding frenzy. David’s gone back for thirds. In about an hour, the man will explode in a flash of pork and sweet and spicy sauce.”

  David’s spiked blond hair made him easy to spot among the throng at the barbecue pit.

  Close behind him in line were Ryan and his cousins. “I know this is hard for a vegetarian to witness. Avert your eyes until the last of the ribs have been eaten.”

  She shuddered. “Thank God it isn’t a hog roast, like Piper first suggested to the BAS board. I would have left if there had been an actual pig carcass on display. The only reason David showed up tonight was because he heard Diego was making ribs.”

  “Can’t blame him. David knows there’s no chance it will ever appear on your table.”

  “He’s lucky I’m not a vegan . . . yet.” She chuckled. “By the way, Alison wants you to know that had she not drunk five piña coladas tonight, she would have won the limbo contest instead of you.”

  “I won this fair and square.” I hugged the tiki god statue. “And tell Alison she’s too drunk to realize she even took part in the limbo contest.”

  “I will when she wakes up. Emma and I left her on one of the Bramble cabin beds. She needs to sleep the luau off.”

  “She’s going to have a lot of company.” I watched Andrew try to inch beneath the limbo pole as he held aloft a bottle of craft beer in each hand. He collapsed in a heap of beer and sand, the limbo pole bouncing off his bare chest. His boyfriend, Oscar, helped him to his feet, while Dean jeered from the sidelines. “Between the free ribs and alcohol, the luau’s been a smashing success.”

  “You’re right about that. Half the people here seem smashed.” Tess shook her head at the next limbo contestant, who tore off his shirt. “It’s a good thing the school restricted attendance at the festivities this week to students and alumni over twenty-one.”

  “I wonder if I should alert Piper about the skinny dipping in the bayou.” I pointed to the water behind me, where excited squeals and splashing could be heard over the music.

  “If this luau goes on much longer, the theme may shift from tropical to bacchanal. We should have told Piper that artist types are more free spirited than her yacht club friends.”

  Tess was right. There was a sexy midsummer night vibe to the festivities. Because of the steamy weather, most guests wore tropical attire, much of it scanty. Outfits included hula skirts, sarongs, shorts, sheer muumuus, and string bikinis. Both Tess and I wore bikinis and short sarong skirts in matching colors: red and white floral for Tess, blue and white for me.

  And BAS had taken the tropical theme to heart. Tiki torches flickered every six feet, island music sounded from all corners, the limbo contest was in full swing, and four women danced the hula on the front porch of the administration cottage. We had even been promised a display of fire eating, although I couldn’t imagine where Piper had found someone locally to do such a thing. But I had learned to never underestimate Piper. Not only was Piper in charge of the road rally, she had exerted her iron will on the BAS centenary committee. It was Piper’s idea to throw a Luau Night, which I blamed on her Christmas trip to Kauai. She had tried to throw a Hawaiian-themed Memorial Day, an idea voted down by the local VFW. The BAS event planners were more easily intimidated, which explained why Dutch and German American hula dancers swayed on the cottage porch, and everyone wore leis of Michigan marigolds.

  “Am I wrong or does limbo have nothing to do with Hawaii?” Tess asked as we watched Dean now take his turn under the limbo pole.

  “I looked it up. It’s the national dance of Trinidad and Tobago. They used to do it at wakes.”

  “I guess that explains the steel drum.”

  “Piper needed to fill up the event with as many activities as possible, so she fudged part of it. Anyway, Trinidad and Hawaii are both tropical. She has us on a technicality.”

  “Piper pulled it off,” Tess said. “People are having a great time. Raucous, even.”

  I agreed. As packed as yesterday’s opening ceremony had been, the luau crowd far surpassed it. All night I looked for the BAS alumni I breakfasted with this morning, but caught only a fleeting glimpse of Dawn and Joel as they walked through the crowd.

  “I hoped to see Theo,” I said, “but last night must have been too much for him. I don’t think he’s been around this many people in years. And I called Theo’s father earlier today.”

  “Why? Did he have another panic attack about the police?”

  I shook my head. “Officer Davenport paid me a visit this afternoon. She told me Theo had once been arrested. Although it’s not as bad as it sounds.”

  Tess’s expression went from puzzled to worried. “Arrested? What did he do?”

  “When he was twenty-three, Theo and his cousin took part in a march with an environmental group. They were protesting the dumping of toxic waste near the Emiquon National Wildlife Refuge, which is about a hundred miles from Theo’s hometown. According to his dad, the police began to arrest the protestors and Theo got separated from his cousin. When the police tried to arrest him, he put up a struggle. His father had given him firm instructions to not go with anyone but his cousin. Because he resisted arrest, they roughed him up a bit.”

  Tess winced. “Oh no.”

  “He was hauled off to jail,” I went on. “But he had no ID on him. It took forty-eight hours before his family got him out. Theo didn’t leave the house for two years after that.”

  “Poor guy. He must have been traumatized.”

  I lowered my voice. “I worked up the nerve to ask if Theo was autistic.”

  “And?”

  “He isn’t,” I said. “Theo suffered a closed head injury when he was a toddler. It left him with developmental problems. However, except for the years immediately following his arrest, Theo has been actively engaged in the world: going to school, having jobs. He’s even had a couple of girlfriends. But he can’t handle a lot of stress or unexpected crises.”

  Tess sighed. “I know how he feels.”

  I remembered the cold indifference in Janelle’s voice when she spoke about Theo’s arrest. “I don’t like how people are pointing the finger at Theo. During breakfast, his so-called friends from BAS tried to shift suspicion onto him. Then Dead-Eye Davenport traipses into my store with this story of him resisting arrest, and all to make me distrust him. If one more person comes for Theo, I swear I’ll shove one of those tiki torches right up their—”

  “Will someone please shut the bar down?” Piper literally threw herself into our midst.

  “What?” Tess and I asked in unison.

  “I’ve never seen so many drunken people in my life outside of Mardi Gras.” Piper flung her arms out as if to embrace everyone within earshot. “Yes, I arranged for an open bar. But I never imagined it would get this out of control. Someone is sure to die of alcohol poisoning if the bar isn’t shut down. I complained to Tina Kapoor, but she’s on her fourth tequila sunrise.”

  “Wait. They’re serving tequila at the tiki bar?” I asked.

  She grabbed my arm. “Don’t you dare drink tonight, Marlee. Not after what happened to you at the Strawberry Moon Bash.”

  Tess giggled as I pried Piper’s hand off me. “Don’t worry. I haven’t had anything stronger than Diet Coke since I got here.” No need to tell her there was a little rum in the Coke. There was also no need to remind me about the dangers of downing too much alcohol. I had done just that at last month’s bash—although not without reason—with disastrous results. I h
ad no intention of getting even close to drunk for the rest of my life.

  “Stop serving liquor,” Tess suggested. “Or announce last call.”

  “These buffoons are so wasted they’d trample me on the way to the bar. Someone has already spilled a bottle of beer over my dress.” A dismayed Piper looked down at the stain on her floor-length floral print dress. “I bought this in Kauai and now it’s ruined.”

  “It’s beer, Piper,” I said. “It will wash out.”

  Piper’s expression turned even more aggrieved. “I never knew art students were so rude. When I tried to make an announcement about the road rally, not a single person paid attention.”

  I straightened her lei. “Have Lionel quiet them down. He has a wonderful deep voice and he’s the mayor. They have to listen to him. Tell Lionel to close the bar, too. Although I don’t think things are out of control. It’s a party. No one’s gotten into a drunken fight yet or broken any of the artwork. Everyone seems pretty chill.”

  “Chill? Oh, yes, everyone is behaving so nicely.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. “Including Kevin Sitko, who made a clay impression of his private parts in the pottery studio an hour ago. He tried to put himself and the clay into the kiln. The drunken moron.”

  Tess and I laughed. “Too bad we missed it,” I said.

  “If you want more proof the alumni should never get near alcohol, look at that pair.” Piper pointed over my shoulder to where two men stumbled over the grass. Only one was drunk, however. The sober man was a slender African American trying to keep his companion upright.

  “Do you need help?” I called out as his friend tripped again. When both men looked up, the drunken man waved at me. “Marlee, it’s all over now. It’s over.” Then he crumpled to the ground, where he became sick.

  “Do you know that disgraceful man?” Piper hissed at me.