The restaurant applause died down, and the conversations at each table resumed.
“Now, may I take your orders?” Fuchsia asked.
“That was a shock,” Sherry whispered to Don.
“I’m sure you get that wherever you go.” He turned to the waitress. “Quick question about the fish and chips. Do you know what kind of fish is used?”
Fuchsia lowered her empty tray to her side. “Must be the topic of the day. That table asked the same question.” She jerked her head toward Vilma’s table. “Local cod, of course. We would sell nothing less than the best,” Fuchsia boasted.
Don nodded. “We’ll have two plates of fish and chips to share for the table, please.”
“And please, thank your husband,” Sherry added.
“Thank him for what?”
All heads pivoted toward Pep as he approached the table.
“Pep, you made it,” Amber called out. “You missed a mini celebration for your sister. Have my wine in honor of your sous chef contribution. I haven’t taken a sip yet.”
Pep removed his jacket and extended a communal nod to everyone at the table. “Thanks, but wine’s not my drink of choice. A cold brew suits me just fine. Thanks, anyway.” He hijacked a chair from a neighboring table and pulled it next to Amber.
After a second round of drinks and a third plate of fish and chips, Sherry pushed back in her chair and yawned. “Guys, I’ve hit a wall. I think I’ll call it quits and head home. I don’t have to work at the store tomorrow, but I’ve got some editing to do for the town’s newsletter. I need a good night’s sleep to clear my head. So fun being with you both, Day and Don.”
Pep pushed his chair back and stood. “I’ll join you.”
“How much longer are you here, Pep?” Don asked.
“Two more days, then I’m off,” Pep replied as he avoided Sherry’s glare.
Chapter 12
“Where’d you park?” Pep asked.
“There were loads of parking spots a while ago. Now that the lot’s full, I’m having trouble remembering. I promise I only had one, maybe two glasses of wine.” Sherry doubled back down a row of cars. “Here it is.”
“Okay, see you later,” Pep called out.
“Wait, Pep. Something terrible happened to my car!” Sherry cried out.
Pep sprinted back to his sister.
Sherry stood under a lamppost that shone a dull yellow light down on the line of cars. “My poor car.”
Pep ran his hand down the side of Sherry’s car, tracing the outline of a zigzagging, scratch that ran from the driver’s side door back to the rear taillight. “It doesn’t look like another car scraped the side, judging by the freestyle wave of the damage. The damage is from end to end.”
Sherry surveyed the side of the car. “Some sort of tool, like an ice pick, would cause this damage.”
“We need to call the police. Your insurance will want a full report.”
Sherry whimpered and her shoulders drooped.
Pep stepped closer to his sister. “I know you don’t want to, but your insurance does.”
Sherry dialed the police and was instructed to wait by the car until a squad car arrived.
“The dispatcher said a car is in the area and—” Before Sherry could complete her thought, a police car pulled up. The driver rolled down the window.
Sherry approached the squad car. “Hi, Officer. I was the one who called you.” Sherry studied the woman in uniform. “You’re the officer who pulled me over for a missing taillight a couple of months ago. You also assisted me when I was being threatened by a deranged madman.”
“Yes, ma’am. Just doing my job. What seems to be the problem this time?” The officer opened her car door and stepped out, hand on her holstered gun.
“My brother and I,” Sherry tilted her head toward Pep, “were eating at the Taproom. When I came out, I found my car had been vandalized.”
The officer held an unwavering stare into Sherry’s eyes. “Let’s take a look.”
The trio approached Sherry’s car. The policewoman shone her flashlight from one end of the car to the other. She circled the car before returning to Sherry and Pep. “Yup. That’s a deliberate act of vandalism.”
“I can’t believe no one witnessed it,” Sherry lamented.
“If anyone did, you’ll be lucky if they step forward. If the act was random, it’s bad luck your car was chosen.” The officer turned her gaze to the car. “If it was deliberate and someone is targeting you, that needs to be evaluated. I assume you want to file a report?”
Sherry nodded.
“I’ll need your information. I’ll need your license, registration, and insurance information. Meet me at the squad car.”
Sherry lifted her head slightly. “Be right there,” she called to the officer. “I’ll be okay, Pep. Why don’t you head home. I’ll be there in a while. Let me give you the house key.” She pulled her key ring from her purse. She wrestled the house key off the ring and handed it to Pep. “See you soon, hopefully.”
Sherry sorted through the papers in her car’s glove compartment until she found the registration and insurance information. She brought the papers, along with her license, to the policewoman’s squad car.
When the officer completed the report, she gave Sherry one last bit of advice. “If you have any idea who may have done this, I advise you not to take matters into your own hands. Could be a whole lot worse the next time.”
Sherry watched the police car drive away. She peered around the parking lot and saw no one. She hugged her purse to her midsection and returned to her car.
As she waited for a clearing to pull her car out of the parking lot, Sherry dialed Ray. He answered in his familiar business tone.
“Bease here.”
“Hi, Ray.” Sherry pressed the gas pedal and merged her car onto the main road. She relayed the events of the evening to him as she navigated the roads home. “I’m getting a feeling of déjà vu. Someone might be tracking me.”
“Go with your gut.” Ray’s reply was blunt enough to sting. “Do you have a sense many people knew you in the restaurant?”
“Maybe not knew me, but the owner made a big hoopla about me being there. Free drinks for my table. He made a restaurant-wide announcement. So, unless someone arrived after that, like Pep, they knew I was there.”
“Must be nice to be you,” Ray commented in a soft monotone. “Drinks on the house.”
“Not always nice to be me. Better to be the owner of the auto body shop I’ll owe hundreds, maybe thousands, to. There go all my winnings.”
“You realize what this most likely means. You’re onto someone, and that someone isn’t happy about you sniffing around.”
Sherry steered the car into her driveway, she shifted it into park and stared through the windshield at her moonlit yard. Her car’s headlights revealed two birds tussling over a worm on her lawn. In the rearview mirror, the high beams of a car pulling in behind hers caught her eye. A fleeting ripple of panic radiated through her core.
“Sherry, are you there?” Ray questioned.
“I need to mention, Pep’s leaving in a couple of days.” Sherry steeled herself for Ray’s rebuttal. Her racing heart slowed as Pep exited his car, walked around her car, and tapped on her window.
She waved him off, and he continued onto the house. Sherry listened hard but heard nothing through the phone. “Ray, are you there?”
“A couple of days cuts it close. Tomorrow I have a meeting about my mother’s care. That’s taking up most of my day.”
“Okay.”
“Use your best judgment and proceed with care,” Ray added before the phone cut off.
When Sherry reached the front porch, Pep was talking to Chutney through the locked door. On the other side, Chutney was complaining about a lack of attention and outdoor time. Sherry thought of her neighbor, Eileen, who walked Chutney at lunchtime. The woman knew how to slather on the terrier love, so Chutney had no good reason to give Sherry an earf
ul. A faint smile crossed her lips, knowing Chutney was always excited to greet her.
“Where have you been? I thought you were heading straight home.”
Pep used the key to unlock the door. “I’m here now.” He opened the door and bent down and stroked Chutney’s head. “Everything go okay filing the car damage report? Tell me about it while we take this guy for a walk.”
“Not much to tell. Got a clear warning from the policewoman and Detective Bease to keep a lookout for anyone with a vendetta against me. Easier said than done.” Sherry set her purse on the front hall table and attached Chutney’s collar to the leash. She grabbed a flashlight. “All set.”
The trio headed back out the door.
Sherry allowed Chutney to sniff each shrub he deemed irresistible. One particularly interesting boxwood halted the walk’s progress for an extended length of time.
“How well do you know Roe Trembley?”
“That’s a funny question,” Pep replied. “What made you ask that?”
“You’re answering a question with a question. And you still haven’t answered why you left the restaurant parking lot before me and got home after me. I’m beginning to think you work for the CIA or something.”
Pep produced a burst of laughter that startled Chutney. The dog lifted his head to check on his people, then was quick to resume examining the bush.
“The answer is, not well. We crossed paths up in Portland. He works for Uri. Provides information on fishing practices. You know all that.”
“He was in the group having some strong words with Fitz. You were part of the group. Do you know what the nature of the relationship is between Fitz and Roe?”
“Fitz is a property manager, and Roe works for Uri. Business dealings between them, most likely. Hard to say.”
“If that’s the case, I wouldn’t think Fitz would be able to compete in a cook-off sponsored by a company he has dealings with.”
“Let’s get this pup inside. I’m tired.” Pep did an about-face and Chutney followed, dragging Sherry’s arm with him.
Once inside, Sherry gave Chutney his dinner. Any grudge the canine might have held against her about leaving him alone all afternoon evaporated as he gobbled up his kibble.
“Anything special you want to do tomorrow?” Sherry asked her brother. While she waited for his answer, she checked her phone. A text was waiting to be read.
“I’d like to spend some time with Dad. Got any plans?”
Sherry set her phone down on the table. “Ginger texted me. It’s always hard to read emotions from texts, but she sounds a bit frantic. She’d like me to stop by the inn in the morning. Not sure what’s going on.”
Pep removed his shoes. “All I know is it’s time to stretch out and read a good book.”
“I’m going to read the Fall Fest contestant recipe booklet. Ruth said Fitz Frye’s recipe was wonderful, and I’m curious what she liked about it.”
Chapter 13
The next morning, after the coffeemaker had performed its duty, Pep poured himself a mugful of liquid energy. He and Sherry headed to the front hall, where he turned to her and said, “Are you sure you don’t want to join us for brunch? It’s only going to be the two Oliveri guys. No ladies, Dad said. Beverly’s in the city, and Ruth’s on a shopping excursion, looking for the perfect welcome home present for Frances.” He chuckled. “You’d think she’d been gone for a year. I mean, where’s my welcome home present?”
“I believe the custom is the visitor brings the present. And if it’s not, it should be.” Sherry joined in the laughter. “I’ll take a pass on the brunch. I have a few things to get done on my day off, before I surrender my car to the body shop. Putting together the town newsletter is looming large, also. Text me later and we’ll meet up. I’ll probably be home before you.”
Pep set his jacket and phone down on the front hall table. “I forgot to return the house key. Let me grab it upstairs.” He proceeded to race up the stairs, skipping every other step in the process. On the front hall table, his phone began to vibrate.
Sherry cast a glance toward the phone. She blinked to make sure she was seeing the name broadcast in text with clear vision. “Could that be the same Oxana I saw at the Augustin Inn? Why’s she texting Pep, and how do they even know each other?”
“Say something? I couldn’t hear you.” Pep descended the last step.
“Nothing. I was repeating my grocery list so I wouldn’t forget anything. Heaven forbid I should write a list down one day.” Sherry’s words collided with each other as she spoke. She hoped Pep was oblivious to the apprehension creeping in.
“Funny, I’d peg you for a master list maker. I remember the chore charts you used to make for Marla and me. If that isn’t the start of a habitual sticky note user, I don’t know what is. Sticky notes are the early warning signs of a future list maker, you know.”
“Okay, okay. Very funny.”
“Guess I don’t know you as well as I once did.” Pep kissed Sherry’s cheek. “Here’s the house key.” He set the key in the palm of Sherry’s hand.
“I wish I knew you better, too.” She put her hand up to her cheek and felt the warm area he had delivered his brotherly love to. “I’ll put the key under the front doormat, in case you get back before me.”
“I’m off. Catch you later.” Pep gave Chutney a pat on the head and left the house.
“Maybe I’ll go over to the inn a bit early and see if Oxana is working today,” Sherry explained to Chutney. “I’ll be back for a nice walk, boy.”
Chutney employed his sad puppy dog eyes but was still unable to change Sherry’s plans. Sherry gathered a light jacket and her purse and left the house. She tucked the key under the doormat.
* * *
The Augustin Inn was bustling with activity when Sherry arrived. The parking lot was full of cars being loaded with suitcases and Sherry had a difficult time finding a parking spot within easy walking distance. She recognized many contestants and sous chefs hovering around cars, wedging their equipment and supplies inside their trunks.
Sherry was slated to meet up with Ginger in half an hour. She gathered her purse from the passenger seat and set out in search of Oxana. If the young lady were still at the inn, the barn in the back of the inn seemed the logical location to find her. The cleaning equipment was stored there. Sherry learned that nugget of information at her wedding reception, when she and Charlie had snuck off for some private time. They considered the rumored haunted barn a romantic setting for their stolen moments alone. She never dreamed the knowledge would come in handy years later and was thankful for her powers of observation.
Avoiding a walk through the main lobby, so as not to run into Ginger, Sherry followed the sign for the gardens and seasonal corn maze. The bluestone walkway led her through a lilac-lined veranda. She imagined the blooms’ fragrance was intoxicating in the late spring, when the flowers were at their peak. On the other side of the veranda was the entrance to the red barn. Beyond the barn was the corn maze, a Constable tradition started by Clarence, decades ago. She could see the edge of the popular attraction as she approached the barn.
Sherry pictured the sea of families who flocked to the inn on Apple Day to get lost in the maze. She imagined the idea was to have everyone develop an appetite for the many versions of baked and fresh apples offered for sale by local farms and bakeries. She was remorseful she hadn’t attended the event since before her marriage, but, without children of her own, she avoided the boisterous celebration and bought her apples elsewhere. Still, her curiosity got the better of her. She considered heading to the maze for a better look until she checked her phone and realized time was getting away from her.
Sherry reached the huge sliding barn door which, to her relief, was partially open. She poked her head through the two-foot-wide gap. The cavernous space was dark, with the exception of the light the door let in. After a second look around, she discovered the back corner was lit with a single fixture. Her first step inside created a
resounding creak that alarmed an orchestra of crickets. The tiny parade hopped across her path and sought refuge in ancient wallboard cracks.
“Hello?” Sherry heard a rustling from the far end of the barn. Pulling her second foot inside, her toe caught on the thick threshold. Next thing Sherry knew, she was flat out on the wood floor. She sat up and checked the conditions of her hands. They’d taken the brunt of the fall.
“You okay?”
Sherry looked up to find an arm extended in her direction. She accepted the help and was pulled to her feet. The woman’s grip was so strong, Sherry was lifted into the air for a split second.
“Thank you. I’m kind of clumsy.”
The young woman’s face screwed up tight as if she didn’t understand what Sherry meant. “Clumsy?” she questioned with a thick accent.
“I need to watch where I place my feet. My name is Sherry. Are you Oxana?”
The woman peered over her shoulder back at the lit corner of the barn. She returned her attention to Sherry. “Yes, Oxana. Nice to meet you.” Her pronunciation was halting and almost painful. “I saw you talk to rabies.”
“Rabies?” Sherry scrunched her forehead. “Oh! Ray Bease. Yes, the detective who met with you here at the inn. I know him. Just wishing him a good day. You and I didn’t get a formal introduction. You seemed to be in a hurry to leave.”
“Not a good day,” Oxana lamented. “Finding a dead body not fun.”
“That’s an understatement.” Sherry softened her tone. “I think you’re a friend of my brother, Pep Oliveri. Is that right?” Sherry delivered her words slowly.
Oxana’s line of sight darted around the barn interior before landing back on Sherry. “Pep is very nice. He help me, how you say, organize myself. I go to school. Need money. Need two jobs. School so expensive.”
Sherry studied Oxana’s expression. Her mouth was set in a pout, and the dark circles under her intense eyes told a story of determination and hard work. Sherry made a decision. “Yes, it is. Glad Pep is able to help you. He’s a caring guy.” Sherry paused. “It was nice to meet you. I should get over to my meeting in the library.” She turned toward the door.
Eat, Drink and Be Wary Page 10
