Blackberry Burial

by Sharon Farrow

  “If this rain keeps up, it will get dark fast.” Ryan hit the automatic button to close the truck windows. A moment later, he switched on the windshield wipers.

  “Dark or not, there are sure to be people at Red Tree. We’re perfectly safe talking with him in the market. And the farther we get from your shotgun, the safer I’ll feel.” I looked at it again. “I’m assuming it’s loaded.”

  “A gun’s not much good if it isn’t.” Ryan braked to a stop at a four-way flashing light. “I’m serious, Marlee. Stay out of this business after tonight. The state police and the sheriff are on the case. They don’t need some shop owner getting in their way.”

  “I’m not getting in their way,” I said as Ryan began driving once more. “And Zack came to me. I think he wants to give me information to pass on to the police.”

  “I don’t care what he wants. Meeting with a drunken stranger about a possible murder is crazy.” He shook his head. “I would have thought you’d had enough close calls after the Bowman murder.”

  “There have been no close calls for anyone this time,” I reassured him as Red Tree Farm Market came into view. “Besides, I’ll be too busy for the rest of the week to get involved after this. The road rally’s on Friday.”

  “Good. I can’t wait for the BAS centenary to be over. Although it’s been great seeing Little Pete and the others. And the food at the luau was great. But I don’t want to spend my time worrying about your safety.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I said as we pulled into the parking lot. The market itself was a large roofed space open on two sides. Inside were open crates of fresh fruit and vegetables. Pails of cut sunflowers lined the outer walls of the market, and a refrigeration unit that contained pies and locally sourced grass-fed beef ran along an inner wall. Attached to the market was a small building that held an ice cream parlor, with lots of picnic tables outside.

  The rain now turned into a steady downpour. Luckily, it was no more than twenty steps to the shelter of the farm market and the adjacent ice cream parlor. Armed with the umbrella Ryan kept in his truck, I ran for cover. Ryan trotted after me, ignoring the rain that caused his dark T-shirt to cling to his upper body. If I wasn’t so bent on looking for Zack Burwell, I would have taken a few moments to enjoy the tempting sight.

  Once inside the market, I checked out the people wandering among the crates of fruit and vegetables. I also eyed the picnic tables. Despite the rain, many of them were filled with families enjoying sundaes and ice cream cones under the striped table umbrellas. I didn’t see Zack anywhere. I recalled how he said he’d be driving Christian Naylor’s rental car: a yellow Jeep. At least I wouldn’t be able to miss him when he did show up.

  “Is he here?” Ryan asked.

  I shook my head. “We’re a little early. He’ll probably show up soon.”

  “Do you want a milkshake? We left before I had a chance to get to the dessert table.”

  “Sounds good to me.” I had a fondness for the Red Tree’s strawberry milkshakes, even if The Berry Basket used all natural ingredients and Red Tree didn’t. Occasionally, those unhealthy additives were exactly what my taste buds craved.

  After Ryan and I got our shakes, he and I waited beneath the white awning that ran along the front of the building. I was thankful there was no wind because the rain suddenly came down in buckets. If we’d been driving, we would have had to pull over until the downpour lessened. But the awning protected us from the rain and it was quite cozy standing there with Ryan as we made small talk and sipped our milkshakes. I took a quick glance at my watch. It was well after nine o’clock. Zack was a no-show.

  The lights around the market flashed three times.

  “That’s it.” Ryan finished the last of his shake. “Looks like they’re closing a little early because of the rain.”

  “Sorry to make you waste all this time for nothing.”

  He smoothed back my hair. “Anything to keep my girl safe.”

  A wave of tenderness swept over me, and I pulled him toward me for a kiss. This led to several more, each one growing more ardent.

  “Definitely time to go home,” he said in a husky voice. “I know you’ve got three houseguests. How about a fourth?”

  I hugged him. “Any time.”

  The downpour had slowed to a steady shower. Huddled beneath Ryan’s umbrella, we ran back to the pickup. Like two high school kids, we made out for a few minutes in his truck. I never could resist the combination of a warm summer night, a strawberry milkshake, and a cute boy. Only in this case, it was a cute man. My man.

  When Ryan finally started up the truck, I sat back, relaxed and happy. As the rain streamed down the windows, I closed my eyes, ready to enjoy the drive back to my house. I had no idea what made Zack change his mind. Nor did I know who had stuck that knife in Gordon’s art piece. But I’d done all I could. Ryan was right. It was time to stay clear of the whole Sienna case, along with the people who once called themselves her friends.

  As we drove down the two-lane highway, Ryan switched on his radio and Miranda Lambert’s hit song “Heart Like Mine” came on. Both of us began to hum along, but the relaxed mood was broken by the wail of sirens. I sat up as the sirens grew closer.

  “Police.” Ryan looked in his rearview mirror, swerving onto the shoulder as two police cars sped past.

  “Hope it’s not an accident. The rain came down pretty strong for a while. I’m sure it made driving hazardous.” I was relieved the rain had slowed to a light shower.

  At the next turn at Blue Star and West Pine, two parked state police cars and several troopers came into view. So did a car smashed against the wide tree that stood guard there.

  A wave of fear washed over me. “Pull over, Ryan.”

  “Are you crazy? It’s a car accident. This has nothing to do with us.”

  “I think the vehicle might be a yellow Jeep.”

  Ryan pulled onto the shoulder of the road and rolled to a stop. I jumped out as an ambulance drove up. One of the troopers waved at me. “Get back in your vehicle, miss.”

  “Officer, I may know the driver. We were supposed to meet someone at the Red Tree Farm Market, but he never showed up. And I expected him to be driving a yellow Jeep.”

  We both turned as if to verify the crumpled vehicle was indeed a yellow Jeep. I caught a partial glimpse of the driver, unmoving and covered in blood. I felt faint as the EMS attendants began to extricate the man from the car.

  “Is that the guy you were going to meet?” Ryan asked me.

  “I don’t know.” All I could see now were the backs of the rescue team. I wasn’t certain I wanted to see any more than that.

  “What else can you tell me?” I heard another trooper say. I looked over to see an officer speaking with a distraught older man with a clipped white beard. “I can’t say much more than I’ve told you. The Jeep was in front of me.”

  “Was the driver of the Jeep speeding?” the officer asked.

  “No.” The bearded fellow shook his head. “The rain was coming down like a hurricane. Could barely see past my wipers. Only a fool would be going fast in that kind of weather. Then a fool did just that. Someone sped past and nearly ran me off the road.”

  “Did you see the accident?”

  “As best I could with the rain pouring down. This person tried to pass the Jeep next. But it mistook the distance between the two vehicles and sideswiped it instead. Sent the driver of the Jeep right into a tree.” The man shuddered. “The other person kept on driving. Didn’t even slow down. If the crash victim is dead, that speeding driver should be charged with murder.”

  “What can you tell me about this speeding car, sir? License plate? Model?”

  “Like I said, I could barely see out my window because of the rain. And it was dark due to the storm clouds. I only saw a vehicle speed past me. It all happened so quick.”

  Ryan cleared his throat. “Officer, we believe my fiancée may know the man who was driving the crashed vehicle. His name is Zack Burwell.�
�

  Unable to watch the EMS people pull the driver’s body out, I focused instead on the state trooper. For the first time, I wished Detective Trejo had shown up for this emergency.

  The trooper turned his attention to us. “Does Mr. Burwell live in the area?”

  “He’s visiting from out of state.” I dreaded my next question. “Is he dead?”

  The officer threw me a suspicious look but must have seen the concern and fear on my face. “He was breathing when we got here. But his injuries look critical.”

  Ryan patted me on the back while I shut my eyes and uttered a quick prayer. I heard the sound of men walking toward me. I didn’t know if I wanted to see what condition Zack was in.

  “Miss, we need you to tell us if this is Mr. Burwell.”

  Steeling myself, I opened my eyes. The crash victim was strapped to the stretcher, a white sheet covering most of his body. My knees buckled and Ryan grabbed me by the elbow.

  “Do you know this man?” the trooper asked as they wheeled the gurney past us. “Is the crash victim Zack Burwell?”

  “It’s not Zack.” I felt stunned. “But I do know him. His name is Christian Naylor.”

  Chapter 19

  I was grateful Oriole Point Hospital had recently been renovated. Especially since the updates included a spacious ER waiting room. The space was needed tonight. State troopers and members of the sheriff’s department marched back and forth from the waiting area past the automatic doors leading to the ER exam rooms. There were six law enforcement officers in attendance, including Kit Holt and Detective Trejo. Sienna’s old friends from BAS were here as well, with the worrying exception of Zack. Gordon, Leah, Joel, and Dawn had drawn four armchairs into a circle and sat huddled together near a bank of vending machines.

  BAS president Tina Kapoor held court in the opposite corner of the waiting area, surrounded by four members of the school planning committee. I was indirectly responsible for her being here. Given the seriousness of Christian’s condition, his next of kin needed to be informed as soon as possible. Only I didn’t have the phone numbers for any of Sienna’s former BAS friends. I had no choice but to call Piper and ask her to pass on the upsetting news to Tina.

  Once Piper got over her initial shock, she launched into an impassioned tirade about how all her efforts for the BAS centenary were being ruined. Aware that Christian might not make it through the night, I hung up on her. This was not the time for Piper’s ego to take center stage. A reporter from the Oriole Point Messenger was also in the waiting room, moving from one beige couch to the other, asking questions. Gillian’s father was about to be scooped again.

  Since arriving at the hospital, I’d done nothing but answer questions put to me by everyone from the art school administrators to Detective Trejo. In turn, I had alerted Tess and told her to pass the news on to Emma and Alison. I’d wait until I got home before relating any of this to Theo. I’d already been to the chapel, and considered going back again. Meanwhile I paced, restless and worried, as we waited for the outcome of Christian’s surgery.

  I wasn’t pacing alone. Both Detective Trejo and Kit Holt flanked me as we walked from the circular information desk to the floor-length windows that looked out on a meditation garden. Both men were true to form: Trejo stoic and brusque, Holt reassuring and friendly. But this time Holt seemed puzzled to see me here. And as unhappy with my reason why as Ryan had been.

  “Agreeing to meet Zack Burwell, or any friends of Sienna’s, was foolhardy. You should have called me as soon as he made this request.” It was the fifth time Holt said this to me.

  “You should have called both of us,” Trejo corrected. The state police at the accident site had instructed Ryan and me to follow them to the hospital. Soon after arriving, Holt and Trejo had shown up. While it was nice to see familiar faces—in particular Kit Holt’s—they also felt entitled to lecture me. And I was not in the mood for lectures. I still hadn’t gotten over my shock that it was Christian who was in the yellow Jeep tonight, not Zack. He must have been coming to meet me at Red Tree Market. But why him and not Zack, as we had arranged?

  I looked over at the wide doors that led to the ER exam rooms. “When we will know if he’s going to make it?”

  “It could be hours,” Trejo replied. “Now tell us again why you were at the Red Tree Market tonight.”

  With a sigh, I launched into my explanation of how Zack had visited my shop earlier.

  “Was Mr. Naylor with him?” Holt asked.

  “Like I said before, they were together. I thought they came so Zack could apologize for his behavior at the luau. Which he did. But when Christian went to buy ice cream, Zack asked me to meet him tonight. And he didn’t want Christian to know about our meeting. Somehow Christian found out.”

  “Why do you say that?” Holt asked.

  “It’s the only thing that explains what Christian was doing tonight only a half mile from the farm market. He and the other alumni who knew Sienna are staying on the BAS campus. Except for Gordon. Why would Christian be on Blue Star Highway heading in the direction of the place I agreed to meet Zack at? It doesn’t make sense. And where is Zack? The others are here.” I waved at the group on the other side of the room.

  Dawn, Gordon, Leah, and Joel were now holding hands. Their heads were bent and I wasn’t certain if they were whispering among themselves or praying. I hoped it was the latter. Christian needed our prayers. Joel raised his head and caught me staring at them. When he shot me a vicious look, I understood why suspicious people spoke of giving someone the “evil eye.”

  “They blame me for this.” The thought made my spirits sink even further.

  When Trejo and Holt looked at the group, Joel averted his gaze. “You weren’t the one driving the car that sideswiped Mr. Naylor,” said Holt, “and they know it.”

  “They also know their buddy Zack is nowhere to be found,” Trejo added.

  “What if something awful happened to Zack, too?” The idea made me even sicker. “This is one unlucky group. First, Sienna disappears and is found years later buried in the woods. Then a mysterious driver runs Christian off the road. Now Zack is missing.”

  Holt shook his head. “Not missing. At least not yet. According to Leah Malek, he left the BAS fish fry at approximately half past eight. He told her he had a headache and wanted to take a long walk. She assumed he was suffering from a hangover due to last night’s drinking and didn’t think there was anything strange about him leaving.”

  “I think he left to come meet me,” I said.

  “And what was Mr. Naylor doing on Blue Star Highway?” Trejo wore a skeptical expression.

  “Maybe he was coming to see me, too.”

  “If everyone was on their way to see you, why did no one ever show up?”

  I met Trejo’s frustrated gaze with one of my own. “Christian probably would have shown up if someone hadn’t tried to kill him.”

  “Then you believe the driver who sideswiped Mr. Naylor did so deliberately, and with malicious intent.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Why?” Holt asked.

  “It’s connected to Sienna’s murder.” I looked over again at Sienna’s old friends. “I think all of them know exactly what happened to their friend twenty years ago. And they’re covering for each other. Either Zack or Christian was about to come clean tonight. Now Christian is fighting for his life, and Zack is missing. Seems like the group is being killed off one by one. And don’t give me your icy state trooper stare, Detective Trejo. You know I’m right.”

  Holt and Trejo glanced at each other. Surprisingly, it was Trejo who broke into a smile. “I may agree with you, Ms. Jacob. But until we have proof, I prefer to keep my poker face. Now excuse me while I speak with Mr. Sanderling and his BAS buddies once more.”

  I turned to Holt after he walked away. “If that’s his poker face, it must be like playing cards with Dracula.”

  “He’s frustrated. We both are. The last thing we want is for another dead body con
nected with BAS to turn up. That’s why I wasn’t happy to hear you had agreed to meet Mr. Burwell alone tonight.”

  Not again, I thought. “But I didn’t go alone. I asked Ryan to go along. And he’s more than enough protection.” At the moment, he didn’t seem like the best security. Accustomed to rising at dawn, Ryan was now snoring in a comfy chair by the window. I was glad Trejo and Holt were here. I’d been dealing with the fallout from Sienna’s death by myself and it was draining. Especially with the bad vibes directed at me from Gordon and his friends.

  The vibes in the waiting room shifted over into frantic with Piper’s noisy arrival. “This is unacceptable,” she announced. “I can’t imagine what apocalyptic event will take place next.”

  Holt and I both took deep breaths as Piper headed straight for us. Two steps behind walked her husband, Lionel. It was like watching Queen Elizabeth enter a room, trailed by Prince Philip. I had a suspicion that when Lionel’s turn as mayor ended, Piper would run for office next.

  “They are an odd couple,” Holt murmured as the couple drew near.

  “Because Piper is a blond WASP and Lionel is African American?” I asked.

  “No. Because Mayor Pierce seems urbane, gentle, and civilized. And his wife is—” He seemed at a loss for words.

  “A crazy, demanding narcissist?” I finished for him.

  “That sounds about right.”

  Piper descended on us in all her embattled and self-serving glory. “Please tell me that you have no further bad news about Mr. Naylor.” She aimed a warning look at Holt.

  “We know little more than we did when Mr. Naylor was brought to the hospital. He has suffered multiple injuries: four broken ribs, spinal bruising, a broken collarbone and shoulder, a punctured lung, and internal bleeding. But the doctors are primarily concerned about his head injury. He could be in surgery for another two or three hours.”

  If he survives that long, I thought to myself. For a moment I felt sympathy for Piper. I had been looking forward to the BAS centenary. It was a chance to reconnect with old friends, revisit teenage memories, and enjoy a boost in business. How did everything fall apart so quickly?