A Flock and a Fluke (Clucks and Clues Cozy Mysteries)

by Hillary Avis

  The bells jangled above the door as we entered the salon. To my surprise, Tambra was seated at her manicurist station. She looked tanned and rested from her Spring Break travels in a tropical-print halter top that showed off her freckled shoulders. She smiled widely when she saw us, her lipstick a perfect match to the hibiscus blossoms on her shirt. “Have you told her yet?”

  She inclined her head slightly toward me, and I realized her question was for Eli. He shook his head and held a finger to his lips. “Not yet.”

  Ruth bustled over from the sinks, waving wet hands at Tambra. “Hush! Don’t jinx us.”

  “What’s going on?” I asked, frowning. I wasn’t the only one keeping secrets.

  “Nothing,” Eli and Ruth chimed together. They shared a look and then burst into giggles.

  My cheeks grew hot. They must think I was really stupid if they thought I hadn’t noticed how much time they’d been spending together lately. Why didn’t they just admit that they were in a relationship? I’m an adult; I can handle it when my friends become a couple, even if one of those friends is an ex. Or at least, I can pretend to handle it. They were two of my favorite people and both of them deserved to find happiness.

  “I was just dropping off Leona,” Eli said breezily, dropping my arm. “See you later, ladies.”

  Thank goodness he left. I was about to die of awkwardness. I hoped they’d admit they were dating sooner rather than later, so I didn’t have to pretend I didn’t know what was going on. After he’d passed the window outside, headed for the pharmacy, Ruth squinted at me. “Why’d you come in? Nails? I know it’s not your hair. Your hair looks great.” She reached around Tambra and tweaked a couple of my curls.

  “I’m ready for you.” Tambra picked up my favorite color, a golden orange that matched most of my laying hens but was actually named something like “perfect peach,” and waved it at me.

  I shook my head as I tried to shake off my humiliation. “I mean, I probably do need my nails done, but I came to apologize for yesterday.”

  “For what?” Ruth sounded genuinely curious. Tambra averted her eyes, seeming embarrassed to be seated between us literally in the middle of the conversation.

  “I shouldn’t have stuck my nose into the blueberry farm deal. I apologize for going behind your back and speaking with Jam and Jelly. I just couldn’t let you sabotage your business, not on my behalf. I’ll put up with them. I hope you’ll forgive me now that it’s all worked out.” Then I held my breath, waiting for her reply.

  I didn’t have to wait long. Ruth sidestepped Tambra’s manicurist station and enveloped me up in a big hug. “You don’t need my forgiveness. It’s fine.”

  “Aww,” Tambra cooed. She stood up and put her arms around us both and squeezed. “I gotta get in on this for a minute. I missed you guys.”

  With Tambra’s hand comfortingly on my shoulder and my face pressed into Ruth’s cucumber-melon-scented hair, I murmured, “So...are you going to let me in on your little secret with Eli yet?”

  Tambra dropped her arms, and Ruth pulled back to look at me briefly. Then she shook her head. “It’s still too early. I’ll let you know when things are more certain, I promise.”

  “OK,” I said, taking a deep breath and letting it out again. “Whenever you’re ready, I’m ready.”

  Chapter 26

  Tuesday, Day 20

  My stomach was in knots as I arranged deviled eggs on the huge trays in the community center kitchen. Sara, who Doc had hired to cater the election reception, scanned them over my shoulder.

  “Those look great. I think you can squeeze a few more in, though. Remember, when people start eating, the platters empty out right away, so it’s OK if they’re a bit crowded to start. Oh, and don’t forget the chives.” She scooted a container of chopped herbs toward me on the counter.

  “Right, the chives.” I bent my head over my work, my heart thudding in my chest. In a few more minutes, the special election results would be announced and the mayor—new or old—would be sworn in. That was my go-time.

  I snuck a peek out into the main room. It was packed with Honeytree citizens who were all eager to eat the free food—and learn who won the election, of course. But the free food was definitely the big draw. I hoped they liked eggs, because deviled eggs were the star of the show. And Sara’s recipe was dynamite.

  I was lucky that Sara got the catering contract. She’d ordered almost all of my backlog of eggs. Almost. The rest I’d been hauling around in a cooler in the back of my Suburban, yelling out my car window at anyone I could find. Surprisingly, it wasn’t a terrible sales tactic. A few people even dropped by the farm to pick up more eggs once their first dozen ran out. Even without a farmers market booth, word of mouth was spreading that my eggs were more delicious than any grocery-store versions, with brighter yolks and firmer whites. I couldn’t take credit, though—all the credit went to the spring grass and the orchard bugs.

  I spotted Eli over by the exit, chatting with Ruth and Margie. Ruth had on her normal witchy-hippie gear, but Margie wore a turquoise taffeta cocktail dress with a white jacket and gloves. Her coronation gown, I supposed. She looked a little paler than usual, whether from her near-death experience or just a couple of weeks cooped up in the hospital, but her smile was bright as she fawned over Eli while Ruth giggled next to her.

  Everybody fawned over Eli, it seemed. Good for him. Good for Ruth, too. He really was a catch.

  I felt a tiny pang of regret that I hadn’t realized that forty years ago, back when I took him to the Sadie Hawkins dance held right here in the community center. How different my life would have been if I’d stayed in Honeytree with him instead of running off to the big city as soon as I could and marrying someone else. I didn’t regret my daughter or my grandchildren that resulted from my marriage to Peterson, but I wasted a lot of time living a life that wasn’t mine.

  Luckily, Ruth was smarter than I was.

  “I think we can put the food out now,” Sara announced. The Friends of the Library ladies and I each swooped up trays to carry out to the long banquet tables that had been set up along the back of the room, opposite the stage. Most of the crowd watched us like vultures, ready to descend as soon as we set down the finger food.

  Preston nabbed a deviled egg from my tray as I passed him and popped it in his mouth, waggling his eyebrows at me. He reached for another one, but I batted his hand away. “Mind your manners!” I said, keeping my tone light.

  “It’s for him!” he protested around the mouthful. He jerked his thumb toward Cal, who stood next to him in a tailored, charcoal-gray suit. He had that shiny, freshly shaved look, and his jaw was working as he tensed and relaxed it, staring at the blue box on stage that held the election results. Saying he looked nervous was the understatement of the century. He looked like he was about to puke.

  “I don’t think he wants any,” I said, brushing past Preston and setting my trays down on the table. Immediately, a gaggle of children pressed forward and snatched eggs with both hands. I handed out napkins to them as fast as I could but gave up when my small pile ran out. One of their mothers took over, clucking over the group like a broody hen.

  “Be careful—don’t touch that—you’ve got some on your cheek—”

  Someone tapped on the live microphone, and the sound echoed through the space. I turned to see Doc—in a tuxedo!—standing on the stage. He ran a hand over his combover, cleared his throat, and spoke into the mic as a hush grew over the crowd. “Well, folks. It’s time. It’s been a pleasure serving as your interim mayor while Margie recovered, but my stint is thankfully over. I’m going to turn the floor over to Marv.”

  The microphone screeched as Doc awkwardly passed it to the Marv, the city council chairman who was somehow shaped like a raindrop, with a tall, pointy head, and a large, saggy bottom.

  Marv licked his lips nervously. “Let’s give a round of applause to Doc for stepping up in a time of need. He did what needed to be done.”

  The crowd cl
apped politely and pressed forward a tiny bit toward the stage, anticipating the announcement of the election results. I edged around the side toward the front of the room, meeting eyes with Eli who gave me an encouraging nod from where he was stationed. I knew he’d chosen his position in case the killer made a run for it, but I sure wished he was standing closer to me.

  “If the candidates will join me up here?” Marv motioned to Margie and Cal in the front row of audience. They took opposite routes onto the stage to stand behind Marv. Margie’s face was a picture of calm confidence, but her hairdo quivered as she stood there with her hands clasped over her pocketbook, giving away her nerves. Cal just looked miserable while he scanned the crowd. Any confidence he’d had as Honeytree’s golden boy had been shattered over the last couple of weeks. But his misery did nothing to diminish his All-American good looks. I guessed that his widower status had made him all the more attractive to many single women in town, too, judging by the shiny-eyed adoration many of them were directing toward the stage.

  Marv licked his lips again as he unlocked the blue box and carefully withdrew a sealed envelope. “These votes have been triple-counted and verified by the bank manager,” he said as he tore open the envelope. “The mayor-elect of Honeytree is...”

  For a moment, he struggled to remove the sheet of paper from the envelope, and I thought the room was going to explode with tension. Even I caught myself leaning forward as he unfolded the paper and read the name to himself. His eyebrows raised.

  “Calvin Goodbody,” Marv finished.

  The room erupted with cheers. Margie’s fake smile wavered for only a millisecond before she turned to Cal and shook his hand graciously. Doc joined her on stage and helped her down the stairs to the audience. Cal stood awkwardly in place until Preston motioned for him to join Marv at the front of the stage.

  Smile, I saw Preston mouth at him, and Cal pasted one on. Well, it was more of a grimace, but he was trying. He leaned over to speak into the mic.

  “Thank you to everyone who has supported me through this difficult campaign. I know Amelia is looking down on us from heaven.” He kissed his thumb and made a motion toward the ceiling, and the audience renewed their applause.

  Well, except Margie. She and Doc were trying to make a hasty exit. I saw Eli step between them and the doorway, blocking their path. I hoped he could keep them in the room long enough for me to do my part.

  “If we could get the judge out here for the swearing in?” Marv said into the microphone, scanning the stage behind him. A judge, who’d driven up from Roseburg to do the honors and had been waiting in the wings for his cue, hustled to the mic. As he held out his Bible for Cal to place his hand on, Tammy Jenson sidled up to me.

  “Can you believe Margie Morrow got deposed?” she asked, cackling.

  “Yeah,” I said absentmindedly, my eyes trained on the stage, waiting for my moment.

  “Is this the first election she’s ever lost? She must be steaming.”

  “Mhm.” I ignored Tammy and watched as Cal held his hand above the Bible, hesitating.

  “Go on, son. Place your hand on the good book,” the judge urged.

  Cal pulled back his hand, clenching it into a fist. From the front row, Preston frowned, his eyes a question mark. He swiftly mounted the steps to stand beside Cal, placing his hand gently on Cal’s shoulder.

  “Are you OK?”

  Cal almost imperceptibly shook his head even as the judge stepped toward him, the Bible still in his outstretched hand.

  “Just say the oath, and then we’ll figure it out,” Preston urged. He picked up Cal’s wrist and tried to put his hand on the book, but Cal tensed, jerking his arm out of Preston’s grasp.

  “I can’t do it!” he gasped.

  Preston rubbed his forehead. “Why in the world not?”

  A quick glance at Eli confirmed what I already knew. It was go-time. I stepped forward so I was standing in front of the murmuring crowd. In a loud voice, I said, “I know why not.”

  The room went silent. Both men turned to look at me.

  I took a deep breath. “You’re afraid to take an oath on the Bible because you know you betrayed your wife to get here, didn’t you?”

  Cal’s chin began to wobble, and he put his hand over his mouth.

  “He did no such thing!” Preston said sharply, looking around at the crowd in a panic.

  With deep pain in his eyes, Cal turned to him. “I did, though.”

  The crowd began buzzing again as people tried to figure out what was going on.

  “Leona?” I heard Ruth ask behind me.

  I felt terrible about it, but the plan was clearly working, so I kept pressing, raising my voice. “You broke your promise to Amelia. You told her you’d drop out of the race so the two of you could be happy together. But then you didn’t.”

  Preston’s eyes went wide. “She died! That’s not his fault!”

  “Isn’t it?” I asked.

  Cal’s face crumpled. “It is—it is my fault.” He shook his head and stumbled back from the mic, holding his head in his hands and mumbling to himself where the microphone couldn’t pick up his words.

  Preston grabbed the microphone from the stand. “It’ll just be a moment while we regroup, folks. He’s just overwhelmed. It’s been an emotional few weeks.” That was the understatement of the year.

  “Think about it, Pastor Cal,” I said, even louder this time. “Do you even want to be mayor after what happened to Amelia?”

  Cal looked at me and back then at Preston. “I don’t want to let anybody down,” he said slowly.

  “That’s right!” Preston said, making a coaxing motion like you would at a dog hiding under the bed. “Just come take the oath, and then we’ll take a break, I promise.” He flashed a smile at the crowd and the judge, who was clutching the Bible to his chest, bewildered at the turn of events.

  I checked over my shoulder to see if Eli had been successful at the door. Sure enough, Doc and Marge were still here—and they were very interested in what was going on. Marge had found her way back to the front row, and Doc was close behind her, watching over her shoulder.

  Cal started back toward the center of the stage and Preston visibly relaxed. “That’s right. Just put your hand here and repeat after the nice judge.”

  “I solemnly swear, in front of God and these witnesses,” the judge began.

  Cal pulled his hand away again, tears welling in his eyes. “I can’t. I’m sorry, Preston.” He turned and rushed off the stage and into the audience.

  Chapter 27

  “Cal!” Preston called to him. “Cal! Please! Stop!”

  But Cal didn’t listen. He ran straight for the exit where Eli was standing. The crowd parted for him even as people gasped.

  “You can’t do this!” Preston screeched from the stage. “I won’t let you just throw this away for some cheap floozy. You owe me for all I’ve done to get you here!”

  At those words, Cal skidded to a stop and slowly turned back toward the Preston. “And what have you done, exactly?” he asked. After waiting a beat, he strode back through the crowd like Moses through the Red Sea, his shoulders squaring as his usual confidence returned.

  Preston’s mouth worked as he watched Cal move toward him, his eyes darting around to the exits from the community center. “I—I just did what needed to be done. I took care of the things standing in your way.”

  “Like my wife?” Cal’s voice took on a dangerous edge. “Did you take care of her?”

  “Amelia wasn’t your wife!” Preston said, his voice shrill. “She was just an impediment. You never would have been elected if I hadn’t—” He broke off as Cal nearly leaped up the stairs onto the stage.

  “Hadn’t what?” Cal growled. The crowd hung on his every word. I even found myself holding my breath, even though I knew this moment was coming. I felt rather than saw Eli move toward the stage, too, ready for whatever happened next.

  Preston didn’t answer.

  I cleared
my throat and answered for him. “He poisoned her coffee during the church meeting before the Scramble.”

  The crowd around me gasped. Ruth joined me at the front of the group, clutching my arm apprehensively. “Are you sure?” she murmured.

  I gave her a quick nod. It was the most I could do with the amount of adrenaline coursing through my veins. All of my attention was focused on the two men on stage, waiting to see what would happen next. I felt Ruth’s hand slip comfortingly into mine and squeeze.

  Cal looked green around the gills as he stared at his campaign manager. “Is that true? It is, isn’t it? I can see it in your face. You wanted her out of the way so I wouldn’t drop out of the race.”

  Preston tightened his jaw and looked away, unwilling or unable to answer Cal’s accusation. Cal advanced on him. “You didn’t care that I won, though, did you? All of this was about you winning. This was never about me becoming the mayor of Honeytree.”

  Something in Preston snapped. He gave a bitter laugh. “Obviously! Why in the world would I care about some goody-two-shoes pastor becoming the mayor of a tiny town in the middle of nowhere? I’m here to build a reputation—to rise. I have real ambition, unlike you. Of course there were going to be some casualties along the way.”

  “Like Amelia.” Cal’s eyes burned into Preston.

  “Yes, like your so-called wife. The woman who loved you so much, she was married to someone else. The woman who loved you so much, she wanted you to live a small life, scraping by as the pastor of a nothing little church.” Preston spat the words, and Cal’s fists clenched by his sides. He looked ready to strangle Preston right then and there—and might have, if Eli hadn’t stepped up between them.

  I was so caught up in the moment that I didn’t notice Doc had moved up to the edge of the stage until he spoke, his voice ringing out clear and loud. “What about my wife, sir? Was she another casualty of your ambition?”