by J A Whiting
“Can I tell them your name in case they want to talk to you?”
The woman’s eyebrows went up. “Me? Oh, no. I don’t want to give them my name. I’d prefer to be anonymous. Sorry.”
When Shelly and Juliet finished the trail tour, Shelly shared what the tourist told her about Adam’s friend and the veiled threats he supposedly heard Adam say to Abby.
Juliet’s eyes were wide. “Oh, wow. Was what Adam said just foolishness that someone might say out of anger or was the threat something he planned to act on if Abby dumped him?”
“I don’t know what to think.” Shelly opened the passenger side door of Juliet’s car. “This woman might have misinterpreted what she heard or she might be making it all up for attention.”
“But she wouldn’t give you her name.” Juliet started the engine. “If she wanted attention wouldn’t she go to the police on her own?”
Shelly gave a shrug. “She might not want to make a formal statement. She might have wanted to impress or scare me with her talk about Adam.”
“I think we need to tell Jay about this.” Juliet backed out of one of the resort parking spots and headed the car down Main Street.
“I agree,” Shelly said. “Jay probably knows all this information, but it’s better if we tell her, just in case.”
“Did Jack return to lead the adventure tour or did their boss cancel it?” Juliet questioned as she slowed for a car trying to turn onto the street.
“He went back,” Shelly told her friend. “The boss went back and forth about calling the tour off, but at the last minute he changed his mind and allowed it to go on. Jack wasn’t sure it was a good idea.”
They rode in silence for a few minutes and then Juliet said, “I know this is a gruesome subject. I can’t get it out of my mind though so I need to bring it up. Why would someone remove a person’s hands?”
Shelly rested her elbow on the car’s middle console. “Well, I guess one reason would be to make it more difficult to make a positive ID of the body.”
“That makes sense. What are other reasons?”
“Maybe it happened in a fit of rage? Or maybe it was something symbolic like making the person seem helpless. Maybe the killer didn’t like what the person had done with her hands?”
“What do you mean?” Juliet turned the corner and drove along the lane to where their houses stood side-by-side.
“Maybe Abby hit the killer with her hands or gave the person some rude gesture. If they knew each other, maybe the killer wanted to punish her for something … maybe he saw her holding hands with another guy. I don’t know, I’m guessing. I’m playing pseudo-psychiatrist.”
“You’re making good points. It makes sense.” Juliet nodded as she cut the engine. The two friends remained in the car talking things over. “It kept running through my mind why someone would do something that seems so cruel. Killing Abby was cruel enough.”
“The killer might have been hyped-up on drugs or alcohol,” Shelly said. “That might have heightened the person’s feelings of rage.”
Juliet gave Shelly a little smile. “Maybe you should study to be a cop. Maybe you are in the wrong field.”
“No way.” Shelly gave a vigorous shake of her head. “I much prefer making tasty food than chasing down monsters. I couldn’t handle it.”
“On second thought, it’s much better for me if you focus on baking. You definitely made the right career choice.” Juliet chuckled and raised an eyebrow. “Are you baking anything this evening by any chance?”
“I made a marble cheesecake earlier. Come in and have a piece.” Shelly opened the car door to step out.
“You don’t need to ask me twice.” Juliet locked the car and started after her friend when a black sedan stopped in the street and a man leaned out the window and waved to Shelly.
“I was just at my sister’s house. Can you come down to the farm tomorrow? Talk with me about the baking job?” Dwayne called to Shelly from his car.
“Sure. Sounds good,” Shelly replied with a wave.
Dwayne nodded and drove away.
“What does he want?” Juliet asked. “Who is he?”
Shelly tried to ignore a feeling of unease as she watched the man heading away down the road. “Come in and I’ll tell you all about it.”
8
When Shelly arrived at the Glad Hill Farm and Orchard, Dwayne met her in the parking lot and brought her on a tour of the place pointing out the different sections and divisions of the farm. The food barn, brewery, petting zoo, general store, and lake were at one end of the acreage while the orchard stood about a quarter mile from those attractions. Pathways linked the different parts of the farm and visitors strolled together from one end to the other.
“If you’d like to walk along the trails, I can show you the rest of the farm from up on the bluffs,” Dwayne said.
After a momentary pause of caution, Shelly decided it would be safe to go with Dwayne to see the rest of the place.
When they reached the top of the hill, Dwayne gestured in different directions. “You can see the part we just left back there. Follow the walkway with your eyes … that building houses the farm’s offices and a little further down the walkway, you can make out my farmhouse. We grow vegetables over in this section and flowers over that way.”
Dwayne, dressed in jeans and a long-sleeve shirt and wearing a baseball hat with the name of a tractor company embroidered on the front, said, “You can see the petting zoo is down at the base of the orchard. The kids like that. There are hayrides all year long and in the fall, the corn maze is over there. My sister’s son, Paul, is suggesting we expand the brewery since that’s a hot thing right now. I don’t know, I’m still on the fence about that. I feel like the food barn takes a huge amount of time, what with the preparation of the lunch items, snacks, ice cream, it takes too much work. I prefer working the land than managing a kitchen so I leave that to others.” Dwayne moved his hand to the left. “I have a lot of land that’s unused. I suggested starting a winery, but Paul wasn’t interested. He has his own idea which he decided to jam down my throat. So, that’s that.”
“I didn’t realize your place was so massive.” Shelly shielded her eyes with her hand as she looked out over the acres and acres of property.
“It backs up against the resort land,” Dwayne said. “We sold off a bit of our land to them a few years ago. Anyway, that’s the farm in a nutshell. Let’s go down to the food barn and I’ll show you the kitchen baking facilities.”
On the way down the hill, Shelly said, “I’m sorry you had an upset here recently. I heard about the sad discovery on your property.”
Dwayne’s face hardened. “I hope they find the killer and string him up. Imagine killing a girl and … well, you know what happened. I had the misfortune to be the one who found it. I was out walking the dog. He was really the one who discovered it.” Dwayne grunted. “I don’t like to speak of it. It’s too upsetting.”
Shelly murmured some empathetic words to the man. Jay had told her Abby’s hand was found just beyond the orchard near the tree line not far from where the farm’s vegetables were planted.
“Do you walk with the dog every day?” Shelly asked.
“I try to. It’s peaceful, gives me time to think. In the summer, we go early in the morning or at dusk. It’s cooler then.” Dwayne noticed Shelly’s limp. “Did you hurt your leg?”
“I was in a car accident. This is left over from one of my injuries.”
“Will it get better?” Dwayne asked.
“The doctors aren’t sure. It doesn’t bother me much.” Shelly downplayed the effects of the accident. “I can still hike and bike. It gets tired, but I manage.”
Dwayne nodded. “Here’s the food barn.” He led Shelly inside to see an immaculate interior of gleaming wood walls, soaring ceilings, picnic tables, smaller square tables, and fancy chandeliers hanging from the rafters. The space was artfully lit and there were huge windows on one side of the walls. Barn doors on the
opposite side were slid back and open to a gorgeous view of the landscape.
“It’s beautiful,” Shelly said. “I don’t know what I expected, but this wasn’t it.”
“This door leads to the kitchen area.” Dwayne opened the door and they stepped into a sparkling commercial kitchen with everything any cook or baker could ever need.
“Wow,” was all Shelly could say.
Several people worked in the kitchen and they welcomed the young woman warmly when Dwayne introduced them to her.
After meeting the other kitchen workers, Dwayne explained the number of pies that would be needed several days out of each week. “You can make your own hours to suit your regular job. There’s another baker, but he only works part-time so I need someone else who can do the apple pies.” Dwayne pulled out a notebook from a large desk near the wall. “Here’s the schedule.” He slipped a piece of paper from a folder and handed it to her. “And this shows what your compensation will be.”
Shelly had to keep her mouth from dropping open when she saw how much Dwayne planned to pay her.
“We believe in paying well. So if you’re interested, you can work right over there. Make two pies. The ingredients and supplies you’ll need are in the cabinets or in the fridges.” Dwayne gestured. “I’ll come back in a while, and try the pies. If they’re satisfactory and you feel the pay is fair, then we’ll sign a contract. Okay?”
Shelly agreed, Dwayne left to let her bake in peace, and she got down to work preparing the pie crusts and peeling, coring, and cutting up the apples.
Mary, the main chef, walked past Shelly and smiled. “If you need anything, hon, just yell.”
Feeling at ease with the people working in the kitchen and comfortable with the baking facility itself, Shelly hoped Dwayne would be pleased with her pies so she could accept the temporary job and save the extra money she’d be making. Deciding on a decorative top crust for the apple pies, she cut strips from the dough to make an intricate lattice top and then used a paring knife to free-hand cut the shapes of Maple and Oak leaves to decorate the edges of the pies. As she was about to place the leaves along the crusts, a man came up beside her. “A work of art.”
Shelly looked up to see a tall, slim man in his mid-forties with short dark hair and brown eyes peering over her shoulder.
“I’m Paul Blake. My uncle and mom own the farm. I do marketing for them. The pie looks and smells delicious.”
“Nice to meet you.” Shelly declined to shake since her hands were doughy and sticky.
“Are you a new baker here?” Paul asked.
Shelly explained the situation and watched Paul’s face cloud.
“You’ve met Dwayne obviously? He explained what he wants to hire you for?”
“He did.” Shelly gave a nod.
Paul lowered his voice. “When you get the pies into the oven, would you come outside so we can talk privately?”
A shiver of worry passed over Shelly’s skin. “Okay. I won’t be long.”
Once the pies were in the ovens, she made her way outside to find Paul sitting at a picnic table under a tree tapping away at his phone. Shelly sat opposite the man.
“Thanks for coming out to talk.” Dwayne put his phone next to him on the table. “What did you think of Dwayne?”
Shelly’s eyebrows went up in surprise at the question. “He’s very nice. He gave me a tour of the farm, explained what the job would entail, made me feel at home.”
Paul let out a sigh. “Do you know that Dwayne was the one who found the missing girl’s hand?”
“I heard that,” Shelly told him.
“Dwayne took the discovery hard. It sent him reeling. He’s on some medication to help him cope with the upset.”
Shelly wasn’t sure why the man’s medical information needed to be shared with her. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Dwayne’s mood can swing wildly throughout the day. Sometimes, he’s easy-going and calm, other times, he’s on edge, antsy, indecisive, full of anxiety, can’t make decisions.” Paul leaned his arms on the picnic table. “If you take the job, you’ll experience Dwayne’s moods. He won’t always be nice. He can be mean. It passes, but you’ll have to be able to handle it.”
“Okay, thanks for letting me know.”
“Give it some thought before you sign the contract,” Paul warned. “No one knows how long his mood swings will last.”
“Is Dwayne going to therapy? Does he see someone who can help him cope?”
Paul snorted. “That will be the day. He won’t agree to it. Case closed.”
“The medication is helping him?” Shelly asked.
“Somewhat. It varies by the hour.” Paul cleared his throat. “I’m concerned about Dwayne being able to handle the demands of the farm especially with the busy fall season approaching. He’s been forgetful. He made a costly mistake the other day. It might be time to encourage him to retire.”
Shelly said, “But wouldn’t retiring make him feel worse? He wouldn’t have the distraction of the work. He seems to really love working the farm.”
When she noticed Paul’s facial muscles tighten, Shelly worried she might have overstepped by mentioning that the farm work might be helpful to Dwayne.
“We’ll see how it goes,” Paul said with a dismissive tone and then stood up. “Anyway, it was nice to meet you and best wishes whatever you decide about the baking job.” The man headed for the rustic building that housed the office and Shelly returned to the kitchen to check on the pies with the interaction with Paul replaying in her mind.
A few minutes later, Dwayne entered the food barn and made his way to the kitchen. “Just about ready? Smells great in here. Love the smell of baking apple pie.” The man spotted the pies on cooling racks and his eyes went wide as he let out an appreciative sound. “Look at those. I’ve never seen such fine designs. The crust looks amazing.”
Picking up a knife, Shelly cut a slice of the dessert, placed it on a small plate, and handed it to Dwayne. “I hope you enjoy it.”
Dwayne carried it to a counter and pulled up a stool. With a flourish of his fork, he dug into the crust and the apples and slowly chewed. No expression showed on his face and a flash of disappointment scurried through Shelly.
The man turned to her with a blank expression and then a smile spread wide over his face. “Best apple pie I have ever tasted. If you want it, the job is yours. And I just might try to steal you from the resort. They don’t deserve a baker of your talent.”
A wave of relief washed over her as her heart swelled from the praise. A little blush even colored her cheeks as Dwayne went on and on about how special she was.
“How about we sign the contract? Unless you’d like to take a day to think it over?” Dwayne asked.
“I don’t need to think about it. I’m ready to sign.” Shelly shook hands with Dwayne after they each placed their signature on the pages.
Dwayne took one page for his records and Shelly took the other.
“Welcome aboard. The sooner you start the better. Those pies are going to be bestsellers.” Heading for the door to leave the kitchen, Dwayne said, “Email the days and times you want to work and I’ll make sure you have what you need. Don’t bother with the cleanup. We have employees who handle that. Take care, young lady.”
Shelly folded her copy of the contract, put it in her bag, and said goodbye to the kitchen staff who all congratulated her and told her they looked forward to having her around.
Walking out into the sunshine, her stomach experienced a flutter of unease as she recalled Paul’s words and she tried to shrug them off.
Dwayne’s moods can’t be that bad.
Can they?
9
Melody left the diner early in the afternoon due to a headache that would not quit. Before she went home for the day, she asked Shelly to go to the resort gift shop and pick out a present for her sister-in-law’s birthday. “I put it off and now I need the gift tomorrow, but I can’t drag myself over to the store. W
ould you mind? I wrote down what I want for her. I’d send Henry, but he’d be at a loss in there and I’m worried he’d get the wrong thing. Would you go? You can leave the gift with Henry and he can bring it home after work.”
“See how pretending to be helpless gets me out of doing things?” Henry called from the grill.
“Don’t listen to him,” Melody said. “He really is helpless.”
“I’d be happy to do it. Go home and rest. Maybe take a nap,” Shelly suggested.
When Shelly finished the baking for the day, she took her bag and the note from Melody explaining what she wanted from the gift shop and left the diner for the store.
The high-end resort shop was located on the other side of the building complex and the interior was done in shades of cream and light coffee colors. The lighting was soft and inviting and the items for sale were artfully arranged on display tables and shelves. Shelly had never been inside before so she walked slowly around the space admiring the wares.
“Hello,” a slim man in his early forties came around the corner from the store room. “Welcome. Is there anything I can help you with?”
Shelly noticed his name tag said “Tad” and realized he was the store manager, the man who had been seen putting his hand under Abby’s skirt.
Reaching into her bag and removing the note with the description of the item Melody wanted her to pick up, Shelly handed it to Tad. “My friend would like me to buy this for her. Can you help me find it?”
Tad read the note and led Shelly to a table at the rear of the shop. “This is what your friend is describing. Touch it. Feel how soft it is.”
Shelly moved her hand over the woven throw. “It’s beautiful.”
Tad checked the note to see which color blanket Melody wanted. “Here’s the one she asked for.” He handed a soft, light blue and cream-colored blanket to Shelly. “Your friend has excellent taste.”
When Shelly saw the price, she nearly gasped. Discretely counting the cash Melody had given her, she was relieved to find there was enough to pay for the handmade throw. “I’ll take it.”
