Killed on Blueberry Hill

by Sharon Farrow

  Her blue-eyed gaze, so like the eyes of her son, bored into me. “If you mean his drug use as a teen, I thought you had moved past that. It happened years before the two of you dated. And Ryan quickly recovered from his youthful indiscretions. I’m shocked to learn you’re such an unforgiving person.”

  I saw little benefit in discussing this with Ryan’s mother. It wouldn’t change anything. Still, it hurt to have her hold such a low opinion of me. When Ryan and I announced our engagement this past winter, the entire Zellar family had been overjoyed. Although my own family was no longer in the orchard business, I made a living from berries. This marked me as one of them, and not an outsider like Ryan’s first wife. But overnight, I had fallen from the Zellars’ good graces.

  “I also never thought you were a cheater,” she went on, disapproval in her voice. “Your parents would be ashamed of you, cheating on my son with another man. With a law enforcement officer, too. Ryan told his father and me all about your sorry affair.”

  I changed my mind about setting her straight. “Mrs. Zellar, I never cheated on Ryan. Yes, I kissed another man last night—just a kiss—but nothing else happened. And I told Ryan about it as soon as I could. I wanted to be honest and aboveboard with him.”

  She snorted with derision.

  “Which is more than I can say for your son,” I went on. “For example, he lied about his fishing trips this past year. Did he tell you that half those trips were spent gambling in Indiana?”

  “Impossible. Ryan never gambles. He doesn’t even buy lottery tickets.”

  “He gambles. So does his buddy Josh. And this latest trip was spent at a place called the Indiana Grand Casino in Shelbyville.”

  She appeared startled. “If he did, it must have been a onetime thing. Maybe Josh came up with the idea.” Determined to deny her son had lied, she reminded me of Cara O’Neill. “And what would be so awful if he did spend the trip gambling?”

  “Nothing. I wouldn’t care if he’d flown off to Monaco to play roulette. I do care that he’s lied about these trips for a year.” I nervously tapped the hymnal in my lap. “Mrs. Zellar, this isn’t the time or place to discuss Ryan or our relationship. I do love your son, but we just couldn’t make things work out.”

  “I doubt you tried very hard, Marlee.”

  “You’re wrong. I wanted to make it work so much that I ignored the truth. I can’t do it any longer. If we got married, it wouldn’t be fair to either of us.”

  “This is sad. I looked forward to you joining our family.” She shook her head. “So did Ryan. Now I understand why he’s been out of sorts these past few months. I thought he was impatient to get married again and start a family. Ryan has always wanted kids. But he must have guessed you weren’t happy and was afraid you’d break things off. And so you have.” Grabbing the back of the pew in front of us, she pulled herself to her feet.

  “I’m sorry. I wish things had turned out differently.”

  “My poor boy. He’s alone again. No wonder he seems in a desperate state.”

  “Desperate?” I didn’t like the sound of that. “You don’t mean suicidal?”

  “Don’t be silly. Ryan is much too stable. But he is tense. Agitated. I’m sure it’s because of the breakup.” She shot me an accusing look. “And you.”

  Even after Ryan’s mother walked away, her statement No wonder he seems in a desperate state rang in my ears. Ryan’s desperation probably had little to do with losing me and everything to do with his need for money. Given the church setting, I decided to pray that Ryan’s desperation hadn’t led to Porter Gale’s death.

  * * *

  After the service ended, I couldn’t wait to head for The Berry Basket. Gillian, the Cabot boys, and my customers had never seemed so appealing. No wonder I was a workaholic. But as I mingled with the crowd leaving the church, other people caught sight of me, necessitating lots of brief conversations. Since most of the attendees were either fruit growers or somehow connected with the industry, we were on a first-name basis.

  When I finally stepped outside, I gave thanks that no one had noticed I no longer wore a diamond solitaire on my left hand. However, I steeled myself for the reaction of the Cabot boys, who would notice the ring’s absence within seconds.

  Cara and Brody stood along the brick path that led to the church entrance. With the minister beside them, the trio exchanged greetings with everyone who passed by. Courtney and several youthful friends mingled by the church sign, laughing and looking at their phones. I decided to cut across the lawn to the parking lot. Given what happened yesterday at the O’Neill farm, I thought the family may not want to deal with me again so soon.

  “Marlee, please wait.”

  I turned around, relieved it was Jacqueline Gale who approached, not an O’Neill. “Jacqueline, allow me to offer my condolences.”

  She reached for my hand and held it tight. “It was kind of you to come. I haven’t lived in Oriole Point long enough to appreciate how supportive a small town can be. The church seemed nearly packed, didn’t it? A fine testament to Porter and Sloane. And Blueberry Hill.”

  “The O’Neill family, too, especially Cara.”

  “Of course. I think there may be even more people here than there were for my late husband’s funeral. Sloane must be touched.”

  I looked over my shoulder to where Sloane and Wyatt stood talking beneath the elm that shaded the church. “She looks rested and calm. I’m glad. We heard she took the news of Porter’s death quite hard.”

  “Sloane’s young. The young are resilient, even after such a shock. After a shaky few days, she’s seems to be holding up well.” Jacqueline glanced at Sloane with a rueful expression. “I’m afraid I didn’t bounce back that quickly after Eric’s death. The doctor prescribed pills to help get me through it. Although it’s been months since he died, I still find myself overwhelmed with grief.” She gave me a sad smile. “And loneliness.”

  “That’s to be expected.”

  “Is it? Some people didn’t expect me to grieve at all. I’m aware of the rumors that I only married Eric for his money. But I did care for him. More than I realized.”

  Since she still held on to my right hand, I gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I wouldn’t pay attention to any rumors floating around Oriole Point. Gossip is the lifeblood of residents, along with lawsuits. You aren’t officially a citizen until someone threatens you with a lawsuit. The same is true of the gossip. Ignore it.” I released her hand and took a step back. “I should go. I scheduled myself to work at the shop and the fairground today.”

  She lowered her voice. “Are you all right? Forgive me for saying so, but you look tired.”

  “I am tired. And I don’t expect to get much sleep until the Blow Out is over.”

  “I’m sorry to ask this of you. But could you stop by my house today?”

  “Do you want me there for the memorial luncheon? Thank you, but I can’t.” Before the service ended, Cara had thanked everyone for attending, then invited all of us to the luncheon that would be served on the grounds of Blueberry Hill within the hour. The catered event was certain to be lavish, and I regretted not being able to do so. But my day was packed. I also didn’t want to mingle in a crowd that included both Wyatt and Ryan’s disgruntled mother.

  “This has nothing to do with the luncheon or the memorial service. It does concern you, though. At least by association.” She paused. “It’s about your fiancé, Ryan.”

  I opened my mouth to tell her we were no longer engaged, then decided against it. I even placed my hands behind my back so she couldn’t glimpse my bare ring finger.

  “Okay. If you think it’s important.”

  “I do.” Jacqueline looked down at her watch. “Now I need to leave as well. I’ve left the housekeeper to direct the caterers, but I should be there, too.”

  “I can make time later this afternoon. Four thirty?”

  “Thanks. That will work out fine. Just drive up to the big house.” With a gracious smile, Jacqueline
set off to where a black SUV and driver waited along the curb.

  If Jacqueline had information about Ryan, it might concern the money he had borrowed from her stepson. Since she assumed I was Ryan’s future wife, she no doubt looked on me as the best person to speak with about the matter. I preferred she continue to believe that, at least until after our conversation. It could be my only opportunity to learn what he had been hiding from me. Even though I’d broken up with Ryan, I’d do what I could to protect him. At the least, I’d warn Ryan about any trouble lying ahead.

  From the depths of my cluttered purse, my phone sang out its Mission Impossible theme. By the time I found it, the call had gone to voice mail. With some surprise, I listened to Natasha’s heartfelt message as she poured out her sympathy over my breakup. She had run into Tess at Coffee by Crystal, where the two shared several iced teas and the woeful tale of the end of my engagement. Despite my glum mood, I chuckled at Natasha’s message, half of which she delivered in Russian. The few English words she did manage expressed her hope that I not stay sad because “Ryan is like Sibirskaya rys: pretty, but do not get too close or your heart could get eaten.”

  I didn’t know what a Sibirskaya rys was, but it sounded like something to avoid. As I put my phone away, I saw someone else I had hoped to avoid. Too late. Cara strode toward me in her usual energetic pace. Despite the sad occasion and the events at the farm yesterday, she looked even more serene than Sloane.

  “Hi, Marlee. I didn’t see you in the church. Brody and I were hoping you’d come.”

  “I sat in the back.”

  “It’s good to see you here. After what happened yesterday at the farm, I worried there might be hard feelings between us. Please know that I don’t blame you for accusing Wyatt of stealing money from your store. Given his past, your suspicion is understandable. But I know my son. He didn’t do it. Any more than he sold drugs to Lucas. By the way, Lucas is going to be fine. Thank heaven.”

  “Yes, I heard he had recovered. And let’s leave whatever happens next to law enforcement, not us.”

  When her smile dimmed, I added quickly, “I thought it was a lovely service. And the testimonials from Porter’s workers were touching.”

  “Florence, Ken, and Wally have worked at Blueberry Hill for over twenty years. Porter regarded them as family. Until recently, he treated them better than family, too.” She said this last with some bitterness.

  “You must have been happy to learn Porter had left half of Blueberry Hill to you.”

  She nodded. “Thrilled. Vindicated. Relieved. I don’t know what I would have done if the entire family business had been handed over to Sloane. Despite all my brother’s sadistic taunts, in the end, blood was thicker than water for him. Blueberry Hill also belongs to me and my children now. Although I’ve spent years doubting it, there is justice in the world.”

  “Courtney told me about the terms of the will. How does Sloane feel about all this? As his wife, she may have expected to inherit everything.”

  She sniffed. “Sloane should count herself lucky. She and Porter were only married thirteen months. And there were no children. I’ve never been so grateful that the two of them never managed to make me an aunt. I’d be in a much sorrier place if they had.”

  “Since you both own Blueberry Hill now, you’ll be working together closely. I’m sure she has a lot to learn about running such a huge enterprise.”

  “From what I’ve seen of Sloane, it would take decades to turn her into a businesswoman. And I have zero interest in teaching her. I hope she allows me to buy her out. Using my share of Blueberry Hill as collateral, I’ll be able to make her a handsome offer. I think she’s shrewd enough to take it. With luck, she’ll be packing her bags before autumn.”

  “Wyatt will be sad to see her go.”

  She gave me a weary look. “He makes no attempt to hide his obsession with her. Porter thought it was funny, but I don’t. Sloane might set her sights on Wyatt next. After all, Blueberry Hill will belong to him and Courtney one day.”

  “Do you really think Sloane is that mercenary?”

  “I don’t know. But I prefer not to take the chance.”

  Both Cara and I turned to watch Sloane, who still stood beside Wyatt beneath the elm. At that moment, she said something to Wyatt, who appeared concerned. Sloane swayed as if buffeted by a strong wind, then crumpled to the ground.

  Cara and I ran over before anyone else had even realized Sloane fainted.

  We knelt on the grass beside her, while a pale Wyatt held Sloane in his arms. “What’s wrong with Sloane?” he cried out. “Help her, please!”

  “She fainted.” I looked up at the onlookers who now crowded around. “Give her some air.”

  A long minute later, Sloane opened her eyes. She appeared confused. “What happened? Did I pass out?”

  “Should I call EMS?” Wyatt seemed panicked.

  “Please don’t,” Sloane said as I helped her to sit up. “I just got a little light-headed.”

  “I bet you didn’t eat breakfast,” Cara told her. “Porter always said you hated breakfast.”

  “Or maybe the stress of the memorial service was too much,” I said.

  “I know why I fainted. It’s not stress. Or not eating breakfast.” She smiled. “I’m pregnant.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Sloane’s announcement took me by surprise. It had a different effect on Cara.

  “Pregnant? Impossible!” Her face twisted with rage. “There’s no way you’re pregnant.”

  “But I am.” Sloane wore a much calmer expression than I would have anticipated. Particularly since Cara seemed like she wanted to pummel the girl.

  “You scheming little liar! This is some game you’ve cooked up to get Blueberry Hill.”

  “Mom, stop.” Wyatt put up his hand in an effort to keep Cara at bay.

  “How big a fool do you think I am?” she hissed at Sloane.

  “Why can’t she be pregnant?” Wyatt scowled at his mother. “Porter only just died.”

  “Don’t be an idiot. She’s not pregnant!” Cara got to her feet, as if she couldn’t bear kneeling so close to Sloane on the ground.

  “Cara, I’ve taken several home pregnancy tests,” Sloane said with a weary sigh. “If you want further proof, I’ll buy more test kits.”

  “Oh, I’ll buy the test kits, young woman, and stand over you while you pee on them!”

  “You sound crazy, Mom.”

  “You’re the one who’s crazy,” she told her son. “Or plain stupid. Don’t you see she’s pretending to be pregnant because she wants all of Blueberry Hill? How convenient this little announcement is. As soon as my brother dies, she magically discovers she’s having his baby. She’s a liar and a gold digger! As I always suspected.”

  Brody joined our group. He looked even more distressed than the minister, who wisely kept his distance. “Keep it down, Cara. Everyone can hear.”

  “Your husband’s right. Having this discussion in public isn’t wise.” I nodded toward the service attendees who hadn’t left yet; everyone’s attention was now on us.

  “They may as well hear because I intend to prove what a liar she is.” Cara shook a finger at Sloane. “Scheme all you want. Play my son for a fool. Pretend you’re pregnant. But I will never let you steal Blueberry Hill from my family. Do you hear? I’ll see you in the ground first!”

  Brody pulled Cara away. Wyatt ran after them. By this time, Courtney had joined her family, all four of them arguing at the top of their lungs on the steps of the church.

  Worried Cara might return, I turned to Sloane. “Do you feel strong enough to stand?”

  She nodded and I helped her to her feet.

  “Could you drive me back to Blueberry Hill?” she asked. “I don’t care to be shouted at in public any longer.”

  “Sure. Would you like to wait here while I get my car?” I thought she seemed a little shaky; I wasn’t sure if that was because of the pregnancy or Cara’s accusations.

 
“I’m pregnant, not ill. And to get away from Porter’s sister, I’d crawl to the parking lot.”

  “No need for that.” I took her by the elbow. “I’ll get you there. No crawling necessary.”

  “I hope you’re right. I always suspected my sister-in-law would love to see me crawl.” She glanced over at where a red-faced Cara shouted at her family. “Now I know she’d love to see me dead, too.”

  * * *

  Sloane put her head back and closed her eyes as we drove away from the church. Now that we were alone, I felt a little awkward. Sloane was almost a complete stranger. Living in what seemed near seclusion at Blueberry Hill, she’d taken on the trappings of a princess confined in a tower. Albeit one who made a lot of shopping trips to Grand Rapids and Chicago.

  “Do you think Wyatt will be upset when he realizes you left?” I asked.

  “Wyatt’s feelings aren’t high on my list of priorities right now.”

  “He does seem fond of you.”

  “Too fond.”

  I glanced over at her. Opening her eyes, she turned in my direction. I marveled anew at her extravagant use of makeup. Somehow the effect was neither gaudy nor cheap, but it made her look as if she were getting ready to film with the Kardashians.

  “Wyatt’s in love with me,” she said. “At least that’s what he says. He hasn’t had a lot of experience, so it’s probably infatuation. Trust me, I never encouraged him. Even if I hadn’t been married to his uncle, Wyatt’s not my type. But from the moment I arrived at Blueberry Hill, he’s let everyone know I am definitely his type.”

  “Cara said Wyatt made no secret of his feelings for you. Didn’t that bother Porter?”

  “Not at all. He thought it was funny how Wyatt acted like a lovestruck fan whenever he was around me. He dropped by the house whenever he thought Porter wouldn’t be there. I didn’t mind. It gave me someone to talk to when Porter was busy. We often worked out together with my personal trainer. Wyatt was certainly better company than Jacqueline. She’s dull enough to put a person into a coma. And Wyatt can be fun.”