by Tonya Kappes
“That’s the police’s job, not mine.” He turned back around. “Apples,” he said and typed at the same time.
The laptop screen blinked, letting us know apple wasn’t the password.
“Bertie,” I suggested.
He typed in Bertie and hit the okay button. The laptop screen blinked again.
“It can’t be too hard. One thing I learned in the hack division is that most passwords are so simple that whoever is trying to break in puts in too much thought.” He clicked away on the keyboard a few times.
The screen blinked back at him a few times.
I walked back to the counter. In the electric mixing bowl I combined the butter and sugar. While the electric mixer made the two ingredients fluffy, I pulled the envelope Joanne had left for me from the side of the register where Emily had left it.
“Ayam Cemani,” I read the front of the envelope. “Try typing in ‘Ayam Cemani’.”
“Spell it for me.” Patrick’s fingers were ready to type.
“A-y-a-m-c-e-m-a-n-i.” I sucked in a deep breath hoping that it was complicated enough for anyone who tried to get into Fred’s computer but easy enough for him.
“Voila!” Patrick smacked his hands together and vigorously rubbed them. He set them back on the screen. “Now let’s look at his history.”
It sounded like a good place to start. I let him do his investigating while I continued to make the pound cake.
“It looks like he’s been investigating exactly how to sell the eggs. There doesn’t seem to be many websites devoted to it because it looks like these types of birds come from Asia and it’s illegal to ship them.” He continued to read articles he was coming across. “But they can be put in Asian meat markets in the United States. The meat is very sought out. It looks like Fred’s been looking up Asian markets across the states.”
“If that’s the case,” I added the flour and milk, alternating each one into the mixing bowl while the paddle was going round and round, “then he was probably planning to sell Bertie’s eggs.”
“It also looks like he’s been investigating this for about eight days. Not long.” Patrick continued to scroll through. “I’m going to jump into his email.”
“That’s a great idea to see if he reached out to any of the markets and then we can call them.” It sounded like a good plan and I’d seen people on TV do things like this.
Slowing down the speed of the mixer, I added in the extracts. The warm smell of vanilla swirled up from the bowl. It was such a comforting smell.
“Try this.” Mom held a cup of coffee underneath my nose. The lavender mixed with the vanilla. “It’s decaffeinated.”
“Oh, I’ll get the pound cakes in the oven and we can enjoy a bite.” I wiggled my brows and scooped all the batter into a few of the pound cake molds before heading back to the kitchen and sticking them in the preheated oven.
While I waited for the timer to go off, Mom sat down with Patrick at the table. I used the time to wipe off one of the chalkboards that was hanging on the wall with the specials on it. In fancy calligraphy, I wrote tomorrow’s daily special and joined Mom and Patrick.
Patrick clicked away. His eyes scanned down the screen quickly before he’d click again.
“Tell me about you and Aunt Maxi.” It was the first time I’d asked her about it.
“She accepted the reasons I didn’t want you to come to Honey Springs and I realized that I probably should’ve come a few days and that it wouldn’t’ve killed me. I think we both realized we have been selfish with how much we love you.” She reached over and squeezed my hand. “We only want the best for you. I agree with her that you belong here in Honey Springs. There’s nothing stopping me from staying here.”
“Do you have plans?” I asked.
“You know that I met with that realtor, Doris. I also enjoyed putting up the new banners along the carriage lights on the boardwalk and in town. So right now, I think I just want to volunteer and find a house.” She smiled. “Get my stuff out of your hair.”
“Look here.” Patrick smacked his hands together.
Sassy and Pepper jumped up. The clap of Patrick’s hands startled them. They started to bark. Mom got up and patted them to settle them down.
“He’s gotten a couple of markets interested in purchasing Bertie’s eggs for three hundred a pop. But here’s the kicker.” He pointed to an email that was to Honey Springs National Bank. “He had an appointment tomorrow to discuss taking out a second mortgage on the property. With a quick search of the property valuation, it could be sold for one point four million dollars. If it’s foreclosed, Jean would get nothing. If it’s sold, the seller will make a mint.”
“You know, Doris said something about how she gets information from the bank about upcoming foreclosures. She’s got an in, she said. And that there was a small ranch on an orchard coming up for sale that she was looking at purchasing. Not the orchard, but a small ranch that would fit my needs,” Mom said. “You don’t think she was talking about Hill’s Orchard, do you?”
A recollection of Jean coming down her hall and talking to me as I stood at the pie cabinet looking at the photo of Fred and Patrick together during the key to Honey Springs ceremony.
“Jean told me that Doris had stopped by and insisted on looking around the house even though Jean told her she wasn’t moving. I’ll bet Doris knew about the foreclosure and with Fred out of the way. . .” I didn’t dare say it. “Only one way to find out. Go see Doris.” My brows rose. “Aunt Maxi mentioned that Doris had sold TJ Holmes the property and she was the one who told him to get the property line inspected.”
“I hate to say it, but Doris did just come into a lump sum of money from an uncle who only had her as a niece. She called the office looking for property to use as a summer rental for a good tax write off. But if she can get the orchard,” his voice faded off. “According to this email from the IRS a couple of days ago, it looks like he’d not been paying taxes or enough taxes on the orchard.”
“So do you think that’s why he’s taking out a second mortgage?” I wondered. “I couldn’t imagine it’s a foreclosure. All Jean would have to do is follow through with getting a second mortgage to pay off the house.”
“But what would be her income?” Mom asked.
“She said something about hiring people to work at the orchard.” I shrugged. “Or TJ would definitely take over his part of the land.”
“Then TJ. He could be in on it with Doris if they’re both trying to get a hand in the money pot.” Patrick threw it out there. “Of course, this is all just thinking out loud.”
“And most of it really doesn’t make sense.” I pretended like it didn’t, but it made perfect sense for TJ and Doris to be on the top of the suspect list.
“TJ.” Mom looked out into the coffeehouse as if she were trying to remember something. “There was a TJ that called Doris while we were looking at a townhouse in town. She said that she was closer than ever on the property. Is that a clue?”
I jumped up and grabbed one of the sawhorse chalkboards we used to put on the boardwalk outside.
“We can do it like the TV detectives.” I got excited and started writing suspect with a line under it and motive next to it. “There’s a connection between them.”
“The real world does it too.” Patrick smiled.
“Oh yeah, I’m going to have to get used to the fact that you were once a cop.” I glared at him before I gave him a kiss. “I like it much better that you’re in construction now.”
Mom stood with a big smile on her face. It was actually nice having her here for this part of my life. The first time I got married, she wasn’t involved with us at all. She never got to know my ex-husband and I was grateful for that now. The timer in the kitchen dinged. Mom went in there and took the pound cakes out of the oven.
“So we can put Louise Carlton up here, but cross her out. I also think we need to put TJ Holmes on here because he had taken Fred to court over the land. According to him a
nd Jean, the lawsuit has been settled.” I wrote down bullet points under his name with key words. “Also Doris Blankenship can go on our list because she encouraged TJ to get the survey and could stand to gain a lot of money from the foreclosure if she was planning on doing something with the rest of the orchard.” I tapped the chalkboard under TJ’s name. “We can’t forget that TJ also lied to Spencer about being at the marina at the time Fred was murdered.”
“We don’t know where he was during that time do we?” Patrick asked.
“No.” I looked at my pitiful board. “I don’t even think Jean knew about the foreclosure because she said she guessed she’d stay there until they packed her off too.”
“I can make a pretend service call to TJ’s house.” Patrick was getting tricky and I liked it.
“Now you’re acting like my fiancé.” I bent down and gave him a kiss to remember.
Sassy and Pepper barked with delight.
Sixteen
The next morning I decided to drive the car instead of my bike into town. I knew once I got Emily and Bunny settled, I’d show up at Doris’s real estate office and see what she knew.
Patrick said he was going to check out TJ and Mom was going to go find a job that might suit her.
“That’s all there is to opening?” Emily seemed pretty confident. She had her blond hair pulled back into a low ponytail and a The Bean Hive apron tied around her waist. “Nothing more?” she asked, making sure.
“That’s it.” I couldn’t have been more pleased with her ability to catch on quickly.
She was there when Pepper and I had arrived. When we walked in and after I flipped on the lights, she’d already headed back to the kitchen to preheat the ovens and get the regular pastries out of the refrigerator.
“I noticed every morning you have your general pastries that please everyone.” She pointed to the honey-glazed donuts as well as all the other flavors: the coffee soufflé, variety of scones, and of course the muffins and bagels. “Then you have your casserole or the lunch item of the day.”
It was a simple concept really. The Bean Hive was a coffeehouse, not a diner or café. I specialized in any sort of coffee and tea you’d want. I also knew that people bonded over food, so the small variety of items kept my baking skills fresh. Also I made one lunch item a day that appealed to the customer who didn’t particularly care for desserts as much as I did. I shudder at the thought of not loving baked goods, but everyone was different and I aimed to please.
Today’s special was going to be the mini Kentucky hot brown again, only for the fact that I’d been spending the better part of the last couple of days trying to find suspects other than Louise. Now that she was no longer under the microscope, I felt like I could breathe easier, but my curiosity still had me craving to figure out exactly if TJ or Doris did it.
“As the morning goes on, I’ll check the coffee and tea bar. Make sure the thermoses are filled and the condiments are stocked. I’ll pick up trash, let Pepper out.” Her jaw dropped. “Before I forget, my sister and Tank.” She put her hands together. “Match made in heaven. She’s going to stop by Pet Palace today and sign the adoption papers.”
“Oh good.” I felt a bit relieved knowing that Louise was going to be there to do it. She’d been so much happier since she’d been cleared off the suspect list. . .sort of. “He’s such a sweet dog.” I gave her arm a squeeze. “Today after Bunny gets here,” I took out some of the velvet crunchies from the oven and replaced them with some more honey-glazed donuts. “I need to run into town.”
“No problem. I’m more than happy to help wherever you need me.” She pushed through the kitchen door with the crunchies in her hand. Without even looking, I knew she was going to put them in one of the doomed platters. Customers couldn’t resist the gooey red velvet chocolate chip cookies.
By the time I cleaned up the kitchen and got most of the food ready for restocking while I was out, Aunt Maxi and Bunny Bowowski walked through the front door of the coffeehouse, flipping the sign to open for me.
“Here you go.” I pushed a couple of hot coffees across the counter toward them.
“Hi, Emily.” Bunny gave Emily a hug. “You’re here early.”
“Emily is going to be working more hours for me. Isn’t that great?” We all liked Emily.
“I do love that you are here, but I’m going to miss you down at Honey Springs National.” Aunt Maxi’s mouth dipped down.
“Honey Springs National?” That was the bank Fred Hill had the appointment with today.
“My dad is the loan officer there and for the past few summers I’ve filled in as a teller when the employees go on summer vacations.” It was strange to hear of the real citizens of Honey Springs going on vacation when we had a beautiful lake right in front of us. “I’m going to miss seeing everyone too, but I hope to go to baking school in the fall.”
“You are?” I questioned.
“Yes, but my parents don’t really want me to.” She shrugged. “They want me to get a four-year degree and go into finance so I can take over my dad’s job.”
“Maybe I can stop by and have a talk with him,” I suggested.
About what was Fred Hill, not so much about baking, though I would throw in some good stuff for good measure. Emily was wise beyond her years and I’m sure she knew what and how to get what she wanted. I just really wanted a reason to get in front of her father to ask a few questions. For Louise’s case of course.
“Would you really? I’d be so grateful. There’s not a bakery in town anymore and not that I want to hone in on your baking, but it is a need in the area.” She had a point.
“I agree. I don’t bake cakes or fancy desserts. Honey Springs does need a bakery.” If you considered the baking section at our local Piggly Wiggly as a bakery, then have at it, but there wasn’t a true shop just for baking. “Then it’s settled. In a few minutes, I’ll be off to run my errands.”
“I do have to confess something.” Emily had an oh no look on her face. “Last night when we had some down time, I got out your apple crisp recipe because I noticed we were practically out.” She sucked in a breath as if she were trying to get her courage up.
“Go on,” I encouraged her.
“I took it upon myself to make some.” Her chin dropped to her chest.
“That’s wonderful!” I was excited to see that she took it upon herself to make some more because I’d just grab things already made from the freezer until it was Sunday, the day I spent in the kitchen baking since the coffeehouse was closed half of the day.
It was closed because I needed at least that time to plan for the upcoming week.
“Are you sure?” She lifted her eyes toward me but kept her head down.
“Absolutely. Now don’t cross my coffee creations.” I winked. “Listen, when you are here, feel free to bake. I’m not a baker. I know that it seems like I know what I’m doing when it comes to the food side, but I don’t. I make what I like and I make recipes that I know.” I pointed to her. “You. You are a creator of ingredients. You are a go-getter and I find it very refreshing and much welcomed.”
Emily threw her arms around me.
“Thank you, Roxy.” She squeezed and I squeezed back.
“Good morning!” Mom called and entered the coffeehouse. “Are you ready?” she asked Aunt Maxi.
“What are you two up to?” I asked.
“One of my rentals is empty and I thought I’d let your mom look it. It’s perfect for a single person. Right in town. A small yard.” Aunt Maxi lifted her hands. “What more could you ask for?”
“You’re going to sell it?” I asked.
Aunt Maxi really enjoyed visiting with her tenants.
“One won’t kill me. Besides, I’m getting older. Not Bunny old.” She just couldn’t resist.
“You’re catching up fast,” Bunny quipped back. “Maxine Bloom, Floyd told me last night that you were down at the Moose shimmying and shaking your backside toward him.” Bunny’s lips pursed. “I w
asn’t going to say nothing, because Floyd told me, but now that you’re insulting me.”
I stepped between them.
“And we were doing so good the last few days.” My brows drew together.
It was no secret that Bunny and Aunt Maxi weren’t the best of friends, but she’d put up with Bunny for me. I’m sure she was doing the same thing with my mom.
“I can’t get along with everyone you want me to.” Aunt Maxi cocked a brow. “Come on.” She pinched my mother on the arm. “Let’s get out of here before I say something that’s gonna make Roxy upset.”
“Ouch.” Mom rubbed it out and gave Aunt Maxi a cross look. “What’s wrong with you?”
Aunt Maxi slid her gaze to Bunny.
“You’d argue with a fence post.” Bunny waddled over to the coat rack and took the brown pocketbook from the crook of her arm. She replaced a The Bean Hive apron on the rack with her purse.
Before Aunt Maxi could protest, customers started to file into the coffeehouse. It was time to get on with everyone’s day, including my agenda, which was to call the Asian markets Fred had contact with. Last night, Patrick had Googled the markets and got their contact information.
The first on my list was Happy Asian Market. Two of the four markets were in neighboring larger Kentucky cities while the other two were in Ohio, which wasn’t but a couple of hours away. Much easier to transport eggs to and the only ones who’d responded to his request.
“Good morning,” I greeted the person who answered the phone. “My name is Roxy and I live in Honey Springs, Kentucky. I’m calling on behalf of Fred Hill about the Ayam Cemani eggs.”
“Oh yes. This is Angela, the market’s buyer.” It was a friendly lady. “Has he made a decision yet? I know we offered a very good exclusive deal.”
“That’s why I’m calling. He seemed to misplace the numbers you gave him. His memory isn’t the best. Do you mind going over them with me again? We are going to be making the decision very soon.” I grabbed a pen to write the information next to her contact information we’d written down last night.
