“Hello there, Roxy,” Spencer answered his phone.
“Good afternoon. What do you think about Bertie?” I asked and wondered if he’d thought she’d be a good motive for Fred’s death.
I took Pepper and a The Bean Hive to-go bag with the honey apple crisps for Jean Hill out of the bike basket and unclipped the small cooler I’d strapped on the back of my bike filled with some pup-sicles. I wasn’t sure what type of animals Fred had, but I knew if he did have some other than Bertie, they’d enjoy a treat on a warm day.
Pepper scurried up the steps of the cabin. I wedged my phone between my ear and shoulder so I could unlock the door.
“Who is Bertie?” Spencer asked.
“The chicken Fred Hill adopted from Pet Palace. The one with the expensive eggs.” I changed Pepper’s water and grabbed my car keys. Pepper was going to stay home while I ran my errand to see Jean Hill and dropped by the courthouse to check on my license. I continued, “Don’t you know what this means?”
“I might have an idea where you are going with this, but why don’t you tell me.” Spencer obviously found my updates more entertaining than informative.
Call waiting rang in and it was Jeremy again. I’d completely forgotten he’d called earlier.
“Someone wanted the chicken because they knew it was worth money.” It sounded like a good idea.
“If that’s the case, who? If someone wanted the chicken, they’d have taken it when they killed Fred. On the other hand, maybe it was a reason for Louise to get Bertie back after she found out how much the eggs sold for because Jean Hill told me that Pet Palace called to see if she wanted to give Bertie back so Louise could adopt her out again,” he informed me. “I went to see Louise.”
“She told me. She also asked me to be her lawyer,” I said.
“Yeah. She said she was getting a lawyer but she didn’t say it was you.” There was some jibber jabber coming across his cop radio. “Listen, I appreciate all the information. This time you’re off base. Let me know if you hear anything else.”
“That didn’t go well,” I muttered after he hung up.
I had a few minutes to drive to Hill’s Orchard so I decided to call Jeremy back. He’d not left a message so it probably wasn’t urgent.
“Pet Palace. Are you ready to adopt your fur baby?” Jeremy answered with his standard greeting.
“Hi, Jeremy. I’m sorry I missed your call.” My stomach growled.
The apple crisps smelled so good. Why was it that when I was stressed, I wanted to eat?
“Roxy, I’m so glad you called back. Louise has decided not to come into work and I can’t run this place on my own. I need sleep.” He sounded tired. “If you could just come around four and volunteer just for a few hours, I’d ever be so grateful. I’m taking some night classes at the community college and I really don’t want to miss class.”
“I. . .” I gnawed on the time I’d lose looking into things, and if I did go, I wouldn’t have time to get to the courthouse and I really wanted to.
“You know I’d never ask you if I didn’t truly need you. If Louise didn’t need you.” He had to throw in Louise, which sent me on a guilt trip.
“You know I will.” It wasn’t even an option.
“You’re such a good friend,” he said with more relief in his voice.
“What are friends for?” I was lucky to have found a group of friends in Honey Springs that I considered family. “I’ll see you soon and I’ll bring you a couple treats.”
The high school gals would be at the coffeehouse to finish off the day by the time I left Hill’s Orchard and made it back to the coffeehouse. I’d make sure they were good for the night and check in on Tank since he’d be back before I went to Pet Palace.
The gravel parking lot at Hill’s Orchard was empty. An unusual sight for the middle of the week. Sad really. It was hard to imagine Fred in his usual John Deere attire not muddling around the orchard or the Farmer’s Market showing me all the different crossbreeds of fruits he’d been working on. He was particularly proud of his grapple. His version of the combined grape and apple. They were a little too tart for the baking I liked to do and I passed on those, even though he continued to try to get me to try them.
“Roxy? Is that you?” Jean Hill called from the front porch of the small ranch home she and Fred shared.
“It is.” I walked toward her with a The Bean Hive bag dangling from my fingers. “I wanted to bring you some apple honey crisps that were baked with the last batch of apples I’d gotten from Fred.”
“Oh, Roxy. You’re so thoughtful.” Her face showed the sadness in her life. “Please come in.”
“Are you sure?” I asked and handed her the bag.
“I’m positive. Fred adored you, though he could be a bit of a grump sometimes.” There was a faint smile behind the dark bags, frown and unkempt hair. “It’ll be good to have some company who likes to eat Fred’s creations as much as I do. These will be so good with a cup of fresh coffee. Not that I could outdo The Bean Hive coffee, but I did just make a pot.”
“Alright.” I nodded and stepped inside of their house.
As many times as I’ve been to the orchard, I’d never been into their house. It was pretty much as I expected. A sixties ranch that was in serious need of an update. The carpet was orange, there was wallpaper on every wall and the kitchen had an old wooden table with scarred chairs butted up to it. The cushions on the chairs were the exact same pattern of the apple wallpaper, which I’m sure in the day was expensive to do. Something Jean probably wanted and Fred grumbled the entire time.
“Here you go.” Jean set a steaming coffee cup with a picture of a chicken on it in front of me.
“Thank you.” I looked around.
There was a beautiful pie cabinet that’d be great as a display case for the coffeehouse. Too bad it was here and not on the floor of Wild and Whimsy. She didn’t use it as a pie cabinet. The doors were open and there were framed photos that detailed their life. Even a couple of trophies were on a shelf along with some journal type books. The laptop computer was on the bottom shelf with a basket that looked as though it held bills.
“Fred sure did love chickens.” I pointed to the cup.
“Have you ever heard of someone adopting a chicken?” She offered a half smile. “Fred was so excited when he adopted Bertie.”
“I had no idea he was selling eggs.” It was my lead-in question and I was pretty proud of myself.
“He was just researching it.” She shook her head.
“Really.” I brought the coffee up to my mouth.
Jean pushed a plate with one of the apple crisps across the table.
“Those are for you.” I shook my hand at it. “Where is Bertie?”
“She’s in the fancy coop he made in our shed behind the house. All of his research is out there too. There is a strict schedule he kept to feed her.” She looked at her watch. “Which is in about five minutes.”
“I’ll help when you’re ready.” It was perfect. I wanted to get a gander at this expensive bird.
“No. No,” she insisted. “You’ve come to visit. I couldn’t put you to work.”
“I’m here to help you.” I wished I was better at easing into something but I wasn’t. It was the lawyer in me that was direct with questioning. “Do you know why anyone would want to kill Fred?”
“Officer Shepard asked me the same thing.” She shook her head. The corners of her eyes dipped. “He’d even mentioned TJ Holmes, but as far as I knew, that was over and done with.”
“I’d heard about that. Can you tell me what the court verdict was?” I asked.
“Fred said they’d come to an agreement and that was it. Fred didn’t let me in on the business. He really enjoyed doing it so I just helped here and there like the Farmer’s Market.” She smiled at the fond memory. “We’d load up on Sunday night.” She stopped. Her eyes widened and she looked at me. “You know,” She studied my face. “There was someone who stopped by late Sund
ay night after we’d packed up the truck with the market goodies. Fred seemed really fidgety when he came back in.”
“Did he tell you who the visitor was?” I asked.
“No.” She shook her head. “When we saw the headlights coming up the drive, Fred told me to go on in the house because my arthritis was acting up and I needed to rest.” She rubbed her hand. “Sometimes doing the repetitive motion of putting the fruit in the wooden baskets got to my hands.”
“What about that visitor?” I asked. “Did you get a look at them?”
“I don’t even know if it was a man or a woman. They were dressed in black. They had on one of those sweatshirts all the kids are wearing with the hood up.” She tsked. “Kids.” She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, Fred figured it was someone who was traveling through town or a new summer citizen who saw our orchard sign out front. We get a lot of drive-by traffic and Fred always let them go into the shop and buy. So we just figured it was one of them. It was how Fred was acting that made me wonder who it was.”
“He didn’t tell you?” I asked.
“I asked and he said that it wasn’t for me to worry.” Her brows dipped. “Do you think that has something to do with the person who killed him?”
Worry set on her face.
“Now I wished I’d pressed him. Officer Shepard took all of Fred’s work receipts and the sign-in journals, even his desktop computer. I don’t know what on earth they’re going to find. Honey, I have no idea how to use a computer.”
“I forgot all about the sign-in journals.” I recalled Fred always telling me to sign his book every time I came to visit.
“Oh yeah.” She nodded with a simple smile. “He loved seeing all the different places people are from, especially the summer citizens. He took pride in them coming by every summer and stocking up on his labor. Just recently he started to make spreadsheets on his laptop.”
“That’s not your laptop?” I pointed to the pie chest.
“Heavens to Betsy, no.” She shoved her hand toward me as if she were brushing off my observation. “Fred was always on that darn thing. Do you think I should’ve told Officer Shepard about it?”
“I’m more than happy to take it to him.” After I’m done looking through it, I thought and hoped she’d agree.
“You’d do that? Roxy, you are a doll.” She stood up. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go to the ladies room and then go feed Bertie.”
“You go and I’ll wait right here.” I held my coffee cup up in the air. “I’ll finish my delicious cup of coffee, and then I’ll help with Bertie.”
My palms were itching to get my hands on that laptop. When I heard the bathroom door shut, I got up to get the laptop because I was afraid she’d change her mind if I didn’t already have it in my hands.
Sadness draped over me as I looked at the photos. There were several with Jean and there were a few of a happy young couple sitting in front of what looked to be the first of the orchard. I wondered how long they’d lived here. Fred had even gotten a key to the city. One of the trophies was a key and there was a framed photo of him with a police officer.
My heart quickened as I looked at the photo. I blinked. As if it were in slow motion, I reached out to pick up the frame and bring it closer to me. Surely my eyes were deceiving me.
“I guess I’ll stay here. I’ll have to hire someone for the orchard. I reckon’ they’re gonna have to haul me off one day like they did Fred. That realtor Doris Blankenship stopped by and left her card. She’s a nosy one, that one. She insisted on taking a look around even though I told her I wasn’t moving.” I heard Jean talking, but it was muted because there was so much noise in my head about the photo with Patrick in it. “Roxy, are you okay?” Jean was suddenly standing next to me.
I hadn’t even heard her come back into the kitchen. I blinked a couple of times to bring me back to the present.
“I’m. . .” I gulped to try and wet my dry mouth. “I had no idea Patrick Cane was a police officer.”
“Isn’t he handsome?” she asked. “Such a tragedy what happened, isn’t it?”
My fingers gripped the frame so hard that they started to hurt.
“What happened?” I asked.
“I can’t recall all of it.” She took the frame from me and put it back in its place. “The drowning or something.” She waved her hand. “Ready to go meet Bertie?”
“Yeah.” It took all my energy to pick up the laptop. The lightweight computer suddenly felt like fifty pounds.
Mindlessly, I followed Jean out to the shed and the only thing that brought me out of my thoughts was her shriek.
“Bertie’s gone! Someone’s stolen Bertie!”
Thirteen
“We are going to have to stop meeting like this.” Spencer nudged me. “I’m beginning to think that you aren’t listening to me.”
The chicken’s shed was nicer than the cabin. It was swarmed by cops and detectives. Pictures were being taken, prints were being dusted, and Jean was crying in the corner.
“At least it’s not a dead body,” I muttered and tried to get the image of Patrick in a police uniform out of my head.
How did I not know? Why hadn’t it come up? He was my fiancé. I felt for my ring.
“What were you doing here anyway?” he asked.
“I’d made apple honey crisps with the last batch of apples Fred had sold me. Like all us southern women, I was dropping some off for Jean. I knew she’d appreciate the fruits of her husband’s labor in a pastry. He’d come in the coffeehouse and tell me how much she loved my sweets.” I probably should’ve brought up the laptop, but I didn’t.
After we’d discovered the lock on Bertie’s cage had been cut in two, she ran into the house while I ran to my car with the laptop because I knew she was calling the police.
“We finished our coffee and came out here to feed Bertie. That’s when she noticed the lock had been cut.” I shrugged. “Did you know that Patrick was a police officer?”
“Of course, we didn’t work together. He was out of it by the time I got here.” His brows dipped. “Why? You think he can solve this?” he asked in a sarcastic manner that struck a chord with me.
“No. I was just asking.” I didn’t like his attitude. “I was just asking. When did you start working here?”
“Four years ago.” He gave me a curious look. “What’s this got to do with Bertie?”
“Nothing. I was just making small talk.” So, four years ago Patrick wasn’t on the force. Four years ago I thought I was happily married, but I knew different deep down.
“No time for small talk. If you don’t have anything to add about Bertie, then you can go,” he said.
“The only thing I know is that my egg and chicken theory might not be so far off the mark as a reason for someone to have killed Fred.” The idea continued to noodle in my head. “Think about it. The killer found out that Bertie is a rare species that can bring upward to a few thousand dollars.” I snapped my fingers. “Jean did tell me that someone stopped by late Sunday night after hours, which isn’t uncommon, but Fred was very fidgety after he came back into the house.”
He quickly flipped through his notebook. He looked at me.
“She didn’t even mention that during her interview.” He slid his eyes over to Jean who was still talking to the other officers.
“She told me. She also told me that you took Fred’s computer. Did he have any emails about the bird?” I asked, wondering if there was a trail.
“There wasn’t anything on there. He did his bookkeeping and that was it.” He flipped his notebook shut. “If you’ll excuse me. I’m going to go ask her about that mystery visitor.”
“Yeah. No problem.” I waved ’bye. “I’ve got to go to Pet Palace and do some extra volunteering.”
Poor Bertie. My thoughts were focused on who took her on my drive over to Pet Palace. While I was at Pet Palace, I was going to find the paperwork on Bertie’s adoption. Jean said that Fred had started to input the visitors’ info
rmation in a spreadsheet on his laptop. I couldn’t help but wonder if any of those visitors had an interest in fancy chickens.
Before I knew it, I’d already pulled up to Pet Palace. Emily was still at The Bean Hive when I called to check in on how the afternoon went. She said that she’d put more pastries in the refrigerator for overnight and had taken it upon herself to make more pup-sicles because once the customer took theirs down to the marina, The Bean Hive was flooded with orders.
“Also, a lady came in here looking for you. She said she was your mom,” Emily said. “I mean you’ve never mentioned your mother, but she sure did look like you.”
“Then it was my mom. Did she say what she wanted?” I asked and had completely forgotten about the lunch she’d had with Aunt Maxi.
“No, she said that she’d see you later.” Emily was a natural and I was lucky to have her as an employee. “Also, I wanted to talk to you about Tank. Can I take him home again tonight? My sister is coming into town for the start of summer and she’s been looking for a dog. I think he’d really like her.”
And that’s another thing I loved about Emily. She got animals like me. And her words when she said that she thought Tank would like her sister was so much better than saying her sister would like Tank. Ultimately it was our fur babies who made the decision to love us and when they did, it was unconditional.
“That’d be great. I hope they are a good match. He’s a great dog.” Jeremy peeked his head out the door and tapped his watch. “I’ve got to go.”
“One more thing,” Emily hesitated. “I wanted to know if there was a full-time position here for the summer?”
“Seriously?” I couldn’t believe it. “That’d be great.”
“Awesome. It’ll help pay for school. I can start tomorrow.” Her ambition was welcomed. “I can come anytime.”
“Why don’t you meet me there at four-thirty a.m.” It wasn’t like I needed the help so early in the morning, but it would be nice to show her the ropes in case I did need her to come. Not to mention whenever Patrick and I do get married, I’m going to have to have someone open the coffeehouse.
Mocha and Murder Page 8
