“We didn’t see who it was, but we saw him hop the back fence with no problem at all.”
“What are you thinking, Tabby? I can see the wheels turning,” Stan Puckett inquired.
“Twice I have witnessed Mr. Pierce and Larry Fink having a heated argument. I don’t think Mr. Pierce knew anyone else in town except myself, Fink and Richard Wells.”
“He knows me,” the sheriff confirmed. “I had to pay him a visit after Richard came to see me in a huff. He claimed Fink was stealing from him. I started to check in with the renters to see what Fink was charging them versus what Richard said he should have been charging them.”
“Do you know if Fink was ripping people off?”
“He sure was. Anywhere from one hundred to five hundred dollars per property. When I talked to Richard again and told him what I found out, he wanted Fink arrested on the spot.”
“What did you tell him?” Tabby inquired.
“I told Richard I couldn’t arrest the man on word of mouth evidence. I needed documentation of the facts he was claiming. I had to have the original leases that were in Fink’s possession. He told me he’d get the proof I needed.”
“How long ago was that before Mr. Wells disappeared?” Tabby questioned.
“Mr. Wells has disappeared?” a surprised Greg asked.
“It was the day of the public scream fest in the center of town. Yes, Richard is gone and no one knows what happened to him,” Sheriff Puckett informed him, answering both questions. “We have been searching for him, but haven’t been able to come up with a clue what happened.
“It seems Larry Fink is right in the middle of everything happening in this quiet little town,” Greg observed.
“I’m getting the same feeling and we are watching him,” the sheriff agreed. “If you two can’t think of anything else, I need you to leave. We have a lot to do to process the scene. There hasn’t been a murder here in over forty years.”
The sheriff disappeared down the cellar stairs. Tabby and Greg looked out the front windows scanning over the crowd that had gathered and decided to leave by the back door.
“Greg, let’s separate and mingle. I want to hear what is being said, especially by Larry Fink,” Tabby suggested. “Do you know what Fink looks like?”
“I certainly do, I had to pay him my rent this month,” Greg responded.
They made their way out front and blended in with the crowd. Tabby situated herself within a couple of feet of Gladys. Greg came out of the alley on the other side of the building. He walked nonchalantly down the street and then stopped on the sidewalk right next to Larry Fink.
“What’s going on?” Greg inquired.
“Gladys Twittle says there is someone dead inside the baseball shop,” Fink replied.
“Someone’s dead?” Greg asked, playing stupid. “The shop isn’t even open yet.”
“Yeah. I suspect that it is probably the shop owner since no one else should be in there this time of night,” Fink answered, looking around.
“Can you see the body?” Greg probed.
“No, I think it is down in the cellar. You can’t see it through the windows,” Fink stated.
“Down in the cellar, huh?”
Fink suddenly realized he had said too much. He turned and hurried to his office across the street. Greg walked over to where Tabby was standing. Gladys was telling everyone around her about the procedures the police should be following in the event of a murder. People were mesmerized and hanging on to every word she was saying. Trying her best to keep a straight face, Tabby spoke up.
“How do you know it was a murder?” she asked.
“Well, ah, I don’t. I’m assuming…” Gladys stuttered.
“You know what they say about assuming something,” Tabby stated, walking away to the sound of Gladys’ husband chuckling under his breath.
Tabby and Greg strolled off together. They could hear Gladys as she fell off the topic of murder to the two of them and the so-called elopement plans she listened in on at the diner. She had been shut down by Tabby on the murder topic, but that didn’t stop The Mouth. This topic was much juicier and people forgot all about the dead body in the shop when it came to gossip about one of their own. The young couple sat on the back stairs to Tabby’s apartment and fell against each other laughing. Gladys had fallen for their story, hook, line and sinker.
“My mom is not going to be happy when Gladys’ story reaches her tomorrow,” Tabby choked out in between her laughter. “What did Fink have to say?”
“He said that since you couldn’t see the body through the front windows on the main floor, the body must be in the cellar. I don’t think he realized what he had said until after he said it. When I started asking him more questions, he got nervous and darted to his office for cover.”
“We should tell Sheriff Puckett how he reacted…” Tabby started to say.
“Tabby! Where are you? Are you okay?” a high-pitched woman’s voice questioned.
“Mom, I’m okay. I’m over here near the stairs,” Tabby responded.
Samantha came out of the shadows, holding her chest where her heart was beating double time. Greg stood up.
“I saw the police cars roar down the street and saw the crowd standing around. I knew something bad had happened. It has, hasn’t it?” her mother demanded to know.
“Mr. Pierce was murdered in his shop.”
Samantha leaned forward and whispered to her daughter.
“Who’s he?”
“Mom, this is Greg Stone. He owns the new flower shop that you’ve been wanting me to visit.”
“Nice to meet you,” Greg stated.
“Did you meet each other at the shop?”
“Yes, we did. And we discovered we have the same taste in fountains,” Greg answered with a potent smile.
“Not the frog fountain?” her mom asked in horror. “You’re the phone bidder?”
“Guilty as charged.”
“Well Tabitha, at least you can go visit the fountain now that you know where it is,” her mom suggested, intuitively playing matchmaker.
“We have something we need to warn you about,” Tabby said, looking sideways at Greg. “You might hear something around town tomorrow about Greg and me. It’s not true.”
“Tabitha Moon, what did you do?”
“We were sharing a booth at the diner because it was so crowded. Gladys asked to be seated next to us so she could overhear what we were saying. We kind of pulled a prank on her. We fed her a story that wasn’t in any way true, but made her think it was.”
“Anyone standing out front of the baseball shop tonight has already heard the story from Gladys,” Greg admitted.
“What did you let her over hear?”
“We said we were eloping this weekend and not telling you about our plans. We even discussed the fact that you wanted a large wedding. We agreed we would have one later so you would be happy. She almost fell out of her booth trying to listen to what we were saying.”
“Tabitha Flower Moon, that’s terrible. Funny, but terrible,” her mother said, snickering. “And she fell for the whole thing, that’s even funnier. She was in the coffee shop last weekend talking about you and Finn breaking up. How can she be that stupid?”
“I’m sure we will be the talk of the coffee shop tomorrow morning,” Greg stated, laughing. “Flower?”
“Yes, that’s my middle name,” Tabby affirmed, rolling her eyes.
“Well Miss Tabitha Flower Moon, it’s time for me to say goodnight,” Greg said. “Six o’clock in the morning arrives mighty early; I have to be there for my flower delivery. Perhaps we can manage to “bump into” each other again for supper sometime?”
“Yes, I think that can be arranged,” Tabby replied. “I need someone to bounce my ideas off to figure out what is going on in our quiet little town.”
“I was hoping to be a date, not a sounding board,” Greg frowned in response.
“I’m sorry, let me rephrase that. I would love to
go on a date with you, Mr. Greg Stone.”
“Really? How about Friday night?”
“That would be fine,” Tabby agreed, her heart dancing a little flutter.
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Moon.”
“It’s Ms., but you can call me Samantha.”
“See you Friday night. Remember, play dumb if anyone asks you about our marriage plans,” Greg insisted, laughing as he walked off.
They watched him disappear into the dark.
“He’s cute,” Samantha observed. “He definitely seems interested in you.”
“Mom, we just met. He is really nice though. We both like a lot of the same things. He even paid for my supper tonight. That’s more than Finn did in six years.”
“I told you he was a loser,” her mom insisted.
“I got the message, okay?” Tabby grumbled.
“It looks like the police are going to be here for a while. Now that I know you are okay I am going to head home. You should go upstairs and stay out of the sheriff’s way,” Samantha admonished.
“I’m going upstairs. It doesn’t mean I can’t watch out the front window,” Tabby said, dodging a swat from her mother. “You know what I just thought of though?”
“What?”
“With Mr. Pierce dead, I wonder if he has any family that will take over the store and open it? If not, I may be able to get in there early and open for the summer season.”
“His body’s not even cold and you want his store. Tabitha Moon, I did not raise you that way.”
“I’m just saying… You’re right. Thinking that way would make me a suspect; I killed him for his store. Good thing I have a solid alibi for tonight,” Tabby said, thinking out loud.
“Go upstairs,” her mom ordered. “Goodnight.”
“Night, Mom. I love you.”
Tabby sat in her new recliner watching the bustle outside. The coroner’s van arrived and removed Mr. Pierce’s body. As she watched, she noticed someone else was watching too. Across the street in the second-floor window, Larry Fink was sitting, staring out the window. He wasn’t smart enough to sit in the dark like Tabby was. The light on in the room made it easy to identify him. The sheriff and the deputies left a few minutes after the coroner did. Fink shut off the light and disappeared for the night.
Tabby sat in the dark thinking. What if the killer did not find what he was looking for? What if he came back to search the upstairs? Was she safe staying in her apartment? To make matters worse, Mr. Pierce died a sudden and violent death. What if his ghost decided to stay in Tabby’s shop?
Pull yourself together, woman.
Setting a cup of hot apple cinnamon tea down on her coffee table, Tabby opened her laptop and searched the name “Larry Fink”. Then she searched for Lawrence Fink. There were seventeen potential matches. Eleven had pictures so Tabby could rule those out. The other six were all in the Midwest or on the West coast. There was no Larry or Lawrence Fink on the East coast.
Interesting…
She shut down the computer.
Saturday, I will pay a visit to Mr. Fink’s office. I’ll go on the pretense of finding out if the Baseball Shop will open or not. I will also ask him about who we pay rent to with Mr. Wells gone. I’ll push the fact that Mr. Wells told me Larry Fink would not be in charge of rentals anymore; let’s see what kind of reaction that gets.
The rest of the week was quiet in the small town. Tabby left work an hour early on Friday to get ready for her date. She wasn’t sure what to wear since Greg hadn’t said where they were going or what they would be doing. Black slacks, a purple blouse, and black flats finally won out. She applied her make-up with a light hand and added a touch of clear lip gloss. She was dressed up enough for dinner or had pants on if they did something a little more athletic like bowling.
Greg arrived at six o’clock, right on time. Since Finn had never been on time Tabby realized that she was going to have to adjust her expectations. He whistled when she opened the door. Her breathing came a little faster. She looked downwards so he wouldn’t see her blushing.
“You look gorgeous tonight!” Greg smiled. “Are you ready to go?”
“I wasn’t sure how to dress. Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise. You are dressed just fine.”
Twenty minutes later they pulled up in front of The Harbor Side Restaurant in Larsen. Carriage lights lit up the sidewalk. A uniformed parking attendant opened the door for Tabby as she stepped out and waited for Greg.
“Are you ready for dinner?” he asked, extending his arm for her to hold.
“I have always wanted to eat here. Everyone says the food is to die for. Oh, I am so sorry- poor choice of words,” Tabby stated with a small laugh.
They entered the foyer. Beautiful stained-glass windows surrounded black wrought-iron benches where people could sit and wait for their tables. The couple walked up to the reservation desk.
“May I help you?”
“We have a reservation under the name of Stone for seven o’clock,” Greg answered.
“It will be just a few minutes. Please take a seat in the waiting area. A waitress will be right with you if you would like to order a cocktail while you wait.”
They had just seated themselves when a smiling waitress arrived to take their drink order. Tabby ordered a glass of wine and Greg ordered a beer. The couple chatted for about twenty minutes. The hostess came to get them and they were seated next to a window overlooking the water.
“It is so beautiful,” Tabby said, looking out at the harbor lights. “Have you eaten here before?”
“Once. I came here with my mom before she died.”
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know,” Tabby sympathized.
“You don’t have to be sorry. My dad died when I was ten. It was just my mom and me growing up. She’s the reason I love flowers like I do. We were always in her gardens on a sunny day. Every day she would stand in the middle of the garden and yell, “Smells so fine.” That’s where the shop name came from. She died of cancer four years ago. The only thing I regret is that she never got to see my shop; I’m sure she would have loved it.”
“You have no other family?”
“I have one uncle in California and a couple of cousins that I haven’t talked to since my mom’s funeral,” Greg replied.
“Kind of sounds like me. It’s always been just me and my mom, the town hippie. I don’t even know who my dad is and we have no other close relatives.”
The waitress arrived at their table ready to take their order.
“Have whatever you want,” Greg offered.
“Are you sure? I have quite an appetite,” Tabby responded.
“Good. I like a woman that isn’t afraid to eat. Order away,” Greg said, picking up his beer.
Tabby decided to order with gusto so she chose the surf and turf right off the Specials Board. She started with a salad topped with Russian dressing. Greg selected the fisherman’s platter with onion rings. Instead of salad he ordered French onion soup. As they attacked the appetizers, Greg requested another round of drinks.
They talked about their childhoods, schooling, and what hobbies they shared. They had so much in common, much more than Tabby could have ever imagined. They discussed Tabby losing the frog fountain to Greg and how mad she was at the phone bidder at the time. Then the conversation turned to holidays. Tabby had imbibed enough wine that she felt comfortable talking to Greg and telling him her feelings.
“Someday I’m going to have a Halloween wedding. Finn and I talked about it, but he backed out.”
“What do you mean he backed out?”
“We had been going together for about four years. He didn’t want to commit, but I insisted on it. I planned a beautiful Halloween wedding. The invitations went out and two months before the wedding he backed out. I should have dumped his sorry butt then, but I didn’t. He talked me into giving him more time and I fell for it. What a fool I was.”
“I’m sorry, Tabby. He’s the fool fo
r letting you get away,” Greg commiserated, taking her hand gently in his.
Tabby didn’t pull away as she realized that she liked the feel of Greg holding her hand. In the short time that she had known him, she felt closer to him than she had with Finn for six years. She stared at Greg realizing that he was great looking, caring, and funny. He made her insides melt when he came near her. She discerned that she could fall in love with Greg Stone very easily.
Duh, can you say rushing things?
Her head was spinning and she didn’t know if it was from the wine or the way he paid attention to her, or the combination of both. He made her feel like she was special, like she was the only person in his world right now.
“All right, do I have something stuck between my teeth?”
“No, why?” Tabby asked.
“You’re sitting there staring at me and not hearing a word I am saying,” Greg answered, smiling. “Am I boring you?”
“No, not at all. I was just thinking how easy it is to talk to you,” Tabby blurted out before she could catch herself. She felt the warm crimson rise up in her chest to cover her face.
“I was thinking the same thing about you earlier,” Greg said, picking up his fork.
“You were?”
“Yes, I was. Don’t you worry, Tabitha Moon. Someday you will have that fancy Halloween wedding, just you wait and see,” he predicted.
The waitress showed up at their table to check on them and to ask if they wanted any coffee or dessert.
“How about we share a dessert?” Greg suggested with a saucy wink.
Tabby nodded in agreement.
“Two coffees and a strawberry shortcake with extra whipped cream and two spoons, please,” Greg requested as he handed the waitress his empty plate.
“I love strawberry shortcake; it’s my favorite,” Tabby said, eyeing him suspiciously. “Did you already know that?”
“No, I ordered it because it’s my favorite dessert. I was hoping you would like it, too.”
When dessert was served, Greg swiped a finger full of whipped cream and dabbed it onto Tabby’s nose. She tried to reciprocate, but her arms weren’t long enough when Greg sat back in his chair so she ate the blob of whipped cream instead.
“I am going to fire up the frog fountain for the first time tomorrow. Want to come watch?” Greg asked.
Bodies and Blueberries Page 9
