The Honey Trap (A Honeybee Cozy Mystery Book 2)

by Katherine Hayton

  A travel rug lay across the back seat, protecting the aging leather. Now, Alice dragged it up over her tense body, each muscle locked as hard as a rock, like her entire body formed a tight fist.

  She pulled the blanket over her head and curled into a stiff ball, hands over her ears, humming and rocking back and forth while she waited for the world to get back to normal levels again.

  Several hours later, Alice opened her eyes and stared at a small spot of sunlight. She couldn’t remember dreaming but must have dozed off at some point as the rug had moved. Now, it was so far off her shoulders a small pool of light was visible. When her eyes didn’t wince away from the sight, she pulled it farther down.

  The world had receded back, no longer crowding itself into every open orifice as though she’d issued an open invitation. The birds were singing, not croaking, and the rays of afternoon sunlight didn’t make her flinch away.

  Her internal clock told Alice she’d been in the back seat for hours, but it still took her by surprise to see it was now just past three in the afternoon.

  One glance at her phone told her nothing had changed. The vet hadn’t sent a message.

  Alice hesitated as she climbed into the front seat. Should she go inside and check?

  Then she shook her head and drove out of the parking lot instead. If she went inside now, she’d be glued to a waiting room seat for the rest of the day. Being concerned was no excuse to be unproductive.

  Although a dozen chores waited for her at home, Alice turned the car in the direction of the Bumbling Bumblebee Café. Doug might have warned her to give Sally space, but that was before she’d experienced the horror of finding a dead body this morning.

  Sure, her partner might not want to see her—the escape out the back door of the principal’s office suggested that—but Alice wouldn’t feel right until she knew Sally was okay. If her friend hit her with a rolling pin in the café, then it would be worth it just to make sure.

  But as Alice walked into the shop, a flustered Harriet ran straight up to her, ignoring the half dozen customers dotted around the room. “Thank goodness, you’re here!” the waitress cried out before grabbing hold of Alice’s upper arms.

  Alice shook her off, then jerked her head toward the kitchen. When they were both in the room, she asked, “What on earth’s the matter?”

  “I was just about to text you,” Harriet said, wringing her hands together so tightly Alice half-expected them to unscrew from her wrists. “The police just came by a few minutes ago and took Sally away.”

  Alice nodded and tried to speak in a calm voice. “She might not have told you, but Sally found a dead body this morning. I’m sure the police just want to ask her some questions about it. They tried to talk to her at the time, but she wasn’t in any fit state.”

  “No.” Harriet shook her head and backed up until her bottom touched against the counter. “You don’t understand. The police didn’t come to ask her some questions. They read out her rights and put handcuffs on before they led her away.”

  While Alice tried to put all the words together in a coherent line, so she could find an alternative explanation, Harriet interrupted, dashing her hopes for good.

  “They’ve arrested Sally for murder!”

  Chapter Eight

  While Harriet worked herself into a state, Alice tried to stay calm and think things through. She peeked out into the café, taking stock of the customers seated there.

  “It looks like two of the tables haven’t ordered,” she said, turning back to Harriet. “Would you be able to do that now, while I work out a plan for the rest of the day and tomorrow?”

  The reminder that she had a job to do snapped Harriet back into her usual friendly manner. She walked out and greeted the waiting customers, soon saying something that earned a laugh.

  One problem down.

  Alice checked the trays of food. They were running low of several honey cakes. No doubt between the hold-up this morning and Sally’s early departure, her friend hadn’t had the usual time to bake up everything as usual.

  After noting down a few items, Alice worked out how long it would take to bake them up and came to a conclusion that could work. She’d put the longer lasting pieces into the oven at home tonight and set the alarm early to get a start on the ones that must be freshly baked, tomorrow.

  That took care of the goods for sale, but Alice couldn’t cover for Sally in the café, serving. She looked through the notebook they kept in the kitchen, containing a range of contact phone numbers. The temp agency they used to cover Sally when she was sick or on holiday was highlighted on the second page. Alice made a quick call and arranged cover for the rest of the week.

  What else?

  With so much information banging about in her skull, Alice found it hard to think in a logical progression. She sat down on a stool, watching Harriet work, and forced herself to breathe in a regular pattern until her mind settled down.

  The stock of honey for sale would last out the week, Alice only ever repopulated it on the weekends. She’d need to come in each day to sort out the cash takings and balance out the EFTPOS receipts, but that was just a matter of setting a reminder on her phone.

  “What are we going to do?” Harriet wailed as the last customer walked out of the café. “Without Sally here, I don’t know I can cope.”

  “I’ve got another waitress coming in tomorrow to cover,” Alice said, happy she was in control. “It’s Bridget, she’s worked in here before so knows the ropes.”

  Harriet nodded, her face smoothing out of its twist of worry. “I remember her. What about the baking?”

  “I’ll take care of that. You go home and by tomorrow, everything will be okay. Trust me.”

  On any other day, Alice would have been insulted by the look of concern that returned to Harriet’s face, but for the moment she didn’t care.

  “Okay. If you’re sure?”

  “I’m sure. Closing up an hour early won’t kill the business, and resting now will help you recover from the shock better.”

  “What’s going to happen to Sally?”

  Having Harriet’s worried eyes staring at her caused Alice more discomfort than anything else she’d been working on. Mindful that the woman needed consoling, she forced herself to meet her gaze briefly before her eyes dropped back down to the notepad. “I’ll go down to the station right now and find that out. If I get any useful information out of them, I’ll tell you first thing tomorrow morning. Other than that, I suggest we just prepare to do without her for the week.”

  “If she goes down for murder, it’ll be a lot longer than that.”

  Harriet’s pointed comment raised a lump in Alice’s throat, but she swallowed past it and shook her head. “I’m sure it’s just a silly mix-up. If Sally’s lasted this long without killing either one of us, I’m certain she couldn’t have hurt a stranger.”

  The words were strong enough to reassure Harriet, but they did nothing for Alice’s peace of mind.

  After dropping the day’s takings into the bank and stopping off to pick up ingredients for the baking, the time had crawled past five o’clock before Alice got down to the police station. The officer on the front desk listened to her request to speak to Detective Sergeant Hogarth without any change in facial expression and waved her into a seat.

  She rechecked her messages for information on Chester, but the vet still hadn’t provided an update. Should she just drop into the surgery and prepare to stay the night? The thought of sitting beside an unresponsive dog in the darkness upset her so much she pushed the decision aside.

  “Miss Townsend, have you come in to give us a statement?”

  Alice sprang to her feet, the sergeant towering above her. “No, I came in to see why you’ve arrested my friend for murder.”

  The man hesitated, then offered up a smile. “I can’t comment on an ongoing investigation but since you’re here, anyway, how about you give us a short statement about your activities this morning? We’d also like
to grab your fingerprints, to eliminate them from the crime scene.”

  “Is that why you’re holding Sally?” Alice asked, speeding after the sergeant as he walked away with long strides. “Did you find her fingerprints on something? Because I can tell you right now, anywhere you find my prints, you’ll find hers, too.”

  “As I said—”

  “I’m not giving you anything if you won’t tell me about Sally,” Alice said, stopping short and folding her arms across her chest. “If you’ve arrested her because of some fingerprints at the scene, then I’m hardly going to volunteer mine!”

  “It’s more than fingerprints.”

  Alice stared at the man’s chin, her vision wavering for a moment before coming steady. The day kept dealing punches and sooner or later, she’d be on the floor, waiting for the count, but she had enough resilience to go another round yet.

  Not wanting to belabor the point, but feeling it was the only tack she had surety of, Alice tried again. “If you found Sally’s fingerprints on the honey jar that killed Mr. Dunbar, that’s because they’re on almost every jar that we sell. You can’t draw conclusions from that.”

  “We’re not drawing conclusions from the prints,” the sergeant said, turning to head towards his office again. Alice had to hurry to keep up with him once more. “There are a variety of other factors in consideration as well.”

  “What? Because she found him?” Alice paused to gain her breath, then sank down into a chair inside the sergeant’s office with a sigh of relief. “That’s just pure bad luck. She went down to the school to pick up our tray, so if I’d gone, I’d be in exactly the same boat.”

  “As I said, that’s not—”

  “When did you take her fingerprints, anyway?” Alice interrupted him to ask. “You didn’t take them this morning. Her hands were clean.”

  That raised another smile on Hogarth’s face. “We don’t use black ink any longer, if that’s your point. Just oil that can be rubbed off with a tissue. But in Sally’s case, we didn’t need to take her prints because they’re already on file.”

  Alice’s eyes widened. The only reason the police ever kept prints on file was when a criminal was convicted. Otherwise, any fingerprints—or DNA if it came to that—would be destroyed at the conclusion of a case.

  Had Sally been convicted of a crime?

  She shook her head, thinking of her friend’s cheerful demeanor and positive attitude. That hardly fitted in with a life of criminal wrongdoing.

  “And, I shouldn’t have told you that, either,” the sergeant continued, perhaps clocking Alice’s expression. “I’d appreciate if you didn’t repeat that anywhere.”

  “I won’t.” Alice leaned forward. “But since you’ve already shared information you shouldn’t have, what’s the harm in telling me the rest?”

  The sergeant mimicked her posture, settling his elbows on the table and leaning in. “Because it’s a breach of Sally’s privacy and could be harmful to the case we’re building for murder. That’s why.”

  Alice tried to wave those concerns away with a flick of her hand, but she could tell from the sergeant’s staunch posture, it hadn’t changed his mind. “Fine,” she said, figuring that giving up a little herself might place her in a better position to grill him further. “You can take my fingerprints.”

  The plan fell short of her imagined scenario when Hogarth immediately escorted her back to the front desk and deposited Alice there to wait for a forensic officer. By the time she realized he wouldn’t do the honors, it was too late for her to back out.

  Great. Now Alice would have oily fingers and no clue why Sally was being held here.

  A man reporting to the front desk looked just as upset as Alice was. When he turned around, she saw why—a reporter ID was pinned to the front of his jacket. It might have been a ticket to the front of the crowd at a public briefing, but it didn’t impress the front desk any.

  “Are you here about the Alex Dunbar case?” Alice asked him when he took a seat opposite.

  He arched his eyebrow and scanned her up and down before leaning forward. “Why? Do you know something about it?”

  “No,” Alice said with a shrug. “I hoped you would.”

  The man just expelled a breath of air in disgust and sat back, doodling on a notepad. When the officer came to take Alice down the corridor to be fingerprinted, the journalist didn’t even look up. By the time she left the station, he’d disappeared.

  If she wanted to find out anything more, the station wouldn’t be the place to do it. Alice checked her phone one more time for messages, then set off.

  First stop, the minister who’d initially introduced Alice to Sally. She’d never thought to ask any questions before, but now she needed answers he seemed like the best place to start.

  Chapter Nine

  Alice drove straight to the church and parked on the street outside. The sign in front read, “A parent’s life is a child’s guidebook” and the sentiment raised a smile. Whatever other problems the church might have, a sense of gentle encouragement wasn’t one of them.

  She pulled her phone out and rang through to the vet’s office, just in case they’d forgotten about the promise to send a message. When the receptionist answered, her voice was so cheerful that a lump rose in Alice’s throat, making it hard to speak.

  “I’m inquiring about Chester. One of the dog’s you had in surgery this morning.”

  After a short pause, the voice came back on the line, with a more solemn tone. “I think that’s one of Josh Freeman’s patients. He’ll be able to give you an update soon, but he’s just caught up in surgery at the moment.”

  Alice felt embarrassed for calling when the vet had already told her he’d message her with the news. She hated the form of communication at the best of times, always out of kilter with the speaker on the other end, so the conversation was a mix of awkward silence and talking over each other.

  She thanked the woman and rang off, checking the text messages just in case before she popped the phone back into her pocket. Now for the minister. Face-to-face communication was her second most dreaded.

  The side doorway led through to a dark corridor, devoid of sunlight except what filtered through under the doors that branched off it. Alice paused inside, waiting for a second for her eyes to adjust. Although she knew the light switch was by her right shoulder, she didn’t want to draw attention to herself until she was ready.

  Footsteps approaching across the hall took that choice away from her.

  “Goodness,” Minister Snell said, taking a step back before his curiosity propelled him forward again. “You gave me quite the startle. Alice, isn’t it?”

  “That’s right,” Alice said, stepping forward. “It’s Alice Townsend.” She paused while the minister stood waiting. “I’m surprised that you remember me.”

  “Your parents were parishioners here for a long time. Hardly going to forget about you.” He paused again, studying her from kind eyes under heavy lids. “Why don’t you come through to my study. I can barely see anything in here.”

  Alice followed him along to the room, blinking against the sunlight when the door opened. She walked into a white bubble, scarcely able to make out the chair the minister waved her toward. Screwing her eyes up against the glare just made them water doubly when she opened them wide again.

  “Now, why’ve you come along here after such a long break?”

  The way he framed the question made Alice blush. She’d never had time for the church growing up and after her parents died, hadn’t given a second thought to whether she’d continue to attend the services. Although her parents had raved about the sense of community, the pleasure of other people’s company had been lost on their daughter.

  Her parents had died within a few weeks of each other. For her mother, Alice had known about her leukemia and the declining fight for survival for a long time. When the last bout struck, there’d been more than enough time to prepare.

  The surprise had been when her
father went to the doctor during the same time to ask about his annoying cough and was diagnosed with late stage lung cancer.

  The news heralded his immediate decline. Within two weeks, his battle was over. Alice had tried to help her mother with the preparations for his funeral, but she was in a state of shock. Her abilities, already compromised when it came to social niceties, grew even shakier.

  This was long before her diagnosis. Back in the time when instead of autism, her behavior was blamed on weirdness, being anti-social, or just being plain naughty. When her mother’s long-expected death followed, Alice had been left to deal with everything alone.

  Although neighbors and old friends had flocked around her parents, all attending the funerals to pay their respects, nobody had been close enough to Alice to stick around afterward to see how she was doing.

  Soon, the overwhelming emotions got the better of her, and she spent most of her days in bed. If it hadn’t been for the chores around the farm necessary to keep the animals alive, Alice doubted she would have bothered to get up at all.

  Minister Snell had turned up and kept showing up until Alice answered his knock at the door. Once he assessed the extent of her situation, he wouldn’t leave until she agreed to attend a community barbecue he’d organized for the following day.

  Even though she’d been faithful to her word, Alice spent most of the first hour at the event, guarding the corner of the room from harm. She had gathered a plate of food only because it would have been rude not to. After that, she’d sat down and waited for it to be time to leave.

  “Do you mind if I sit down here?” a voice had asked, entering into the fog of gloom that passed for Alice’s mind at the time. “Only, I don’t really want to be here, but if I sit by myself, the minister will no doubt send someone across to see if I’m all right.”

  The same fear had been on Alice’s mind, and she looked up in surprise, meeting the blue eyes of a cheery blonde before her gaze fell back down to her plate of food again. “Sure,” she’d mumbled. “I don’t mind.”