No Cone Unturned (Apple Orchard Cozy Mystery Book 12)

by Chelsea Thomas

  13

  Anna Kournikova

  The next morning, I woke up and told Miss May I was headed out for a walk. But actually, I had different plans. You guessed it, those plans involved a disguise.

  Strangely, although Teeny, Miss May, and I had been solving mysteries for quite some time, we’d rarely had a reason to wear disguises. But disguises had always seemed fun to me. Like wearing your mom’s makeup when you’re a little girl. As soon as you put that lipstick on, you feel like another person.

  I guess I was feeling a little mischievous that morning. That’s why, although Miss May, Teeny and I had planned on donning disguises and continuing the investigation together, I decided to take matters into my own hands.

  Pine Grove’s master of disguises was the editor of the Pine Grove Gazette, Liz. Liz had worked her way into a few of our prior investigations. Often times, she had popped up when we had least expected her. And on many of those occasions, she had been wearing a disguise. A very convincing, elaborate disguise.

  Liz’s disguises typically involved a fake Greek or Russian accent. Sometimes, they involved a good old fashioned gender-swap. And on at least one occasion, there’d been a fat suit. When Liz decided to go undercover, she went deep. Got into character. And committed, hard.

  I picked up a couple coffees at the Brown Cow, then I crossed the street to the two-story office building, slipped inside, climbed the steps and knocked on the door to Liz’s office. It was Sunday morning. Most people in Pine Grove were taking the day off. But I knew Liz would be hard at work.

  The door swung open with a flourish. “Chelsea. What are you doing here?” Liz raised her eyebrows. “Have you come to give me the inside scoop on your most recent investigation? Don’t look so surprised. Of course I know about Todd. Little goes on in this town of which I am not aware.”

  “How would you know something was going on if you weren’t aware of it?” I asked.

  Liz rolled her eyes. “Don’t get philosophical with me. I have too much work to do. Now is one of those coffees for me or have you developed a serious caffeine addiction?”

  “Both?” I said.

  Thirty seconds later, I was seated at Liz’s desk across from her workstation. Liz drank her entire coffee in one gulp, which made me think she might have been the one with a serious caffeine addiction. Then she hit me with a barrage of questions stronger than hurricane winds. Liz wanted to know what I had found at the scene of Todd’s murder. She wanted to know who else was around town that night. And she wanted to know if Wayne was a good kisser.

  I blushed at that last question.

  “So he is a good kisser then,” said Liz. “I figured. He’s got those big, Italian lips. I like a man with full lips. That’s a strong feature and you don’t see it often enough.”

  “I guess Wayne’s lips are full.”

  Liz opened her laptop and turned the screen to face me. “Take a look at my online dating profile. Tell me if you think I seem attractive, successful, confident, ambitious, poised, determined, and intimidating but not too intimidating. Also ready to settle down.”

  Sure enough, the computer was open to an online dating profile. In the top left corner was a photo of Liz, wearing a pantsuit and standing in a power pose. I clicked to the next photo. There was Liz reading War and Peace on a Victorian sofa. I clicked to the next photo. There was another photo of Liz reading a giant book, One Hundred Years of Solitude, this time in a wing-backed chair surrounded by mahogany walls. I took a beat to admire the interior design of whatever room Liz was in, then I looked up from the computer screen.

  “Well? What do you think?” Liz leaned forward.

  I stammered. “I’m not really an expert in online dating. Uh, I mean, you look great in all those pictures. But—”

  “But what?” Liz suddenly looked a little angry.

  “Well you’re definitely walking the line between intimidating and too intimidating. You’re reading enormous books in most of those pictures. Guys might get the wrong impression.”

  “I don’t think so. That’s the right impression. I like to read giant books.”

  “But you’re also fun and you like to take pictures and you’re a great writer and you’re active in the community,” I said.

  “Good point. I’ll add a few photographs that show me doing my volunteer work, reading with kids, that kind of thing. You’re never too young to start War and Peace, that’s my motto.”

  “Maybe try to find a picture where you’re not reading,” I said. “Just a suggestion. To mix it up, ya know?”

  “I have a series of photos where I’m featured alongside the Hudson River on a hiking trip. Would that work? I was going to post those but the river looks so beautiful... I thought maybe it would distract from my beauty.”

  I laughed. “If a guy is looking at the river instead of you, maybe he’s not the right guy for you anyway.”

  Liz picked up her cell phone and activated a voice command. “Remind me to upload pictures of me and the river tomorrow at 7 AM.”

  “That’s early.”

  “I’ll be finishing up my morning jog at that time. Then I’ll make the adjustments to my profile, take a quick shower, and get to work for the day.”

  “I’ll be dreaming of cinnamon buns at 7 AM tomorrow morning,” I said. “Then I’ll wake up and make cinnamon buns, no running included.”

  “You do karate. That’s your exercise. You’re a tough chocolate chip cookie, Chelsea. Now, can we get down to business? Why are you here?”

  “I need you to help me with a disguise.”

  Liz jumped to her feet and clasped her hands together. “You do? You should have mentioned that sooner.” Liz crossed the room in four brisk steps and opened the double doors of a large armoire set against the wall. “Welcome to my wonderland. I presume this is for your investigation?”

  I nodded. “Yes. But like I said before there’s not much I can tell you yet.”

  “As long as I get the first scoop after this case is solved.”

  I nodded. “Absolutely.”

  Liz swept her hand toward the rows of clothes in her armoire. “Let’s disguise you, Chelsea Thomas.”

  Over the course of the next thirty minutes, I tried on dozens of pieces of clothing from Liz’s closet. First, she had me try on six different fat suits ranging from chubby to morbidly obese. Liz insisted that I wear a fat suit even after I complained that they all made me hot and sweaty. She said that body weight is the number one way to disguise oneself.

  “That’s why people always say ‘I barely recognize you’ when someone loses weight,” she explained. And I guess she had a point.

  I settled on the chubby fat suit which was a bit redundant considering my natural build. But the suit added about thirty pounds to my frame and changed the way I looked and walked. After my preferred fat suit was chosen, Liz quizzed me on what ethnicity I’d prefer. She dismissed my concerns about cultural appropriation with a scoff and started listing the heritages of her previous identities.

  “Russian, Greek, Turkish, Afghani, Slovenian—”

  “I guess Russian sounds good,” I said.

  Next, Liz had me try on all of the clothes in her closet that she had deemed “chubby Russian.” There were sweaters and blouses and jackets and dresses and even a pantsuit or two. After about half an hour I selected an oversized green house dress with pink flower petals. Then Liz pinned my blonde hair up with a dozen bobby pins and situated a large, grey wig on my head.

  Finally, she stepped back and smiled. “All done. You are now Anna Kournikova. A Russian grandmother visiting Pine Grove on a day trip from New York City, not to be confused with the tennis star. You love painting with pastels, eating cabbage, and watching gymnastics on television. And you have a secret talent for karate.”

  Liz pulled the mirror from the closet and propped it in front of me. I laughed when I saw myself. And I spoke with a thick, if unsteady, Russian accent. “Hello. My name is Anna. Cabbage is delicious.”


  Liz smiled and clapped me on the back. “I’m impressed.”

  “Thank you,” I said, again in my Russian accent. “Cabbage is delicious.”

  “Stop saying the thing about cabbage,” said Liz. “It’s an offensive stereotype and you’re going to need to be more creative with your disguise out in the world. What are you going to do now, anyway?”

  “Good question.” I pulled out my phone, texted Damien and arranged a tour of the empty storefront next door to Cherry on Top. “If I’m lucky I’m going to solve this mystery.”

  14

  A Wolf in Russian Sheep’s Clothing

  I exited Liz’s office and trundled toward Damien’s vacant storefront, muttering to myself in fake Russian as I went. The closer I got to the storefront and Damien the more unsure I felt of my plan.

  Why had I decided to embark on this mission without the help of Teeny and Miss May? Just so I could surprise them with my disguise later? What if I compromised the investigation by slipping up? What if Damien called the police on me for the second time?

  I had no idea how I would explain my Russian disguise to Wayne and I hoped my day would not come to that awkward conclusion. Besides all those concerns, I had never worn such an intense disguise in an investigation before. I didn’t know the first thing about acting or anything like that. But I tried to think of my Russian character like I would think about playing pretend when I was a little girl. It’s all fun and games until somebody gets killed, right?

  Too bad for me somebody had already been killed.

  The door to the storefront was open and I could see a well-dressed man inside. He was wearing a suit and he had black hair and a big, gold watch. The guy looked like he had just stepped off a jet from Miami or Milan. I assumed it was Damien.

  I took a cautious step through the open door, gathered myself and spoke in my Russian accent. “Mr. Hamilton?”

  The man looked over at me. “Call me Damien. And welcome to Pine Grove’s hottest commercial opportunity. This place is gorgeous, right? It gets great light, it’s spacious, and there’s tons of foot traffic on this street. I’ve got a lot of interest already.”

  “I’m sure you do.” My eyes rested on the spot where I had found Todd’s dead body. An image of his lifeless corpse flashed before my eyes. Dead eyes, heavy hands, flask by his side.

  There must have been poison in that flask, I thought. What if the man in front of me, Damien, was the person who did the poisoning? I reminded myself to be careful as I continued the conversation.

  “I want to open flower shop. Pretty flowers are everything to me. In Russia, I’m from Russia, spring flowers bring me joy each year after winter of bleak sky and cold cabbage. Have you been to Siberia?”

  Damien scoffed. “I’m never going there. No offense.”

  I replied with a stern tone. “It is beautiful. How you say, country of god. Gorgeous forest and abundant nature. There exists in the Siberian taiga enough life to sustain any man for any duration. Of course there is danger too. Cold in the fingers and the toes. Biting cold. Cold will bite you. This is why I like flowers. Remind me of spring when cold is softer on exposed toes.”

  “Why are your toes exposed in the Siberian winter?” Damien shot off a text on his phone, barely looking at me.

  “Not literal. Exposed toes is Siberian expression.” Woof. Smooth, Chelsea.

  “So do you want to open your little shop in here or what?” Damien asked, clearly uninterested in my country of fake origin and its invented idioms.

  I took a step forward and crossed my arms. “Have there been previous tenants? What is history of the space? I want to open my shop in a building with good energy and good personality. What is personality of this building?”

  “Personality. Sure, sure. Look, the place is incredible. You’re not going to get a deal like this anywhere else in Pine Grove. And the building has a great personality. It’s like a golden retriever. Happy, lovable, always there to greet you with a cuddle and a sloppy kiss. Does that work?”

  Suddenly, a tense female voice rang out from behind me. “Excuse me. I hope you’re not about to rent my storefront to this nice woman.”

  I turned around. There stood Amy, the owner of Pine Grove’s mobile pet grooming truck. As she crossed toward me, I remembered Amy had been struggling to do enough business with her grooming truck. She had mentioned that she was looking for a permanent space to rent the last time I had seen her.

  Damien gave Amy a careless nod hello. “Hey, Amy. Nice to see—”

  “You already promised me this place and took it away once!” Amy exclaimed. “You should have come to me first when you decided to open it up to renting again.”

  “I didn’t think you’d want to pay my price,” Damien shrugged. “But you can have it for two grand a month.”

  I muttered some words in fake Russian. “Expensive.”

  “She’s right. It is expensive. A man died in here. You’re not going to be able to rent the space for that much. Fifteen hundred is the most I can afford.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Huh. What death?”

  Damien shrugged. “No one knows if Todd died in here. He might have died somewhere else and been brought here later.”

  “Dead body end up here?” I asked. “Like zombie, corpse-walk into building? That is not good energy. You say building have good personality, not killer personality.”

  “Oh, Damien didn’t even tell you about the murder!?” Amy shook her head. “The previous tenant, the man who was about to open up a business here, was found dead in this location just a couple days ago. And now, apparently, Damien is trying to rent the space for the same price the deceased man had agreed to pay.”

  Damien shrugged. “Makes sense to me. You should pay the same price Todd was paying. The market has already demonstrated that it’s a fair price. Besides, you were about to pay the two grand until I leased the place to Todd.”

  “I had more money then. My boyfriend was going to help me cover the costs, until we…until he decided to not help me cover any more costs. Ever again. The point is, I still can’t believe you cheated me like that. We had a handshake agreement and then you rented the place to Todd behind my back.”

  “Handshake, handschmake. When I tried to find you to sign the lease you didn’t pick up your phone and I couldn’t locate you anywhere in town. Todd had cash in hand. I’m a smart businessman so I went with him. Why don’t you call your boyfriend get him to rethink the cash thing? This is a good deal. It’s a great space. Lots of foot traffic.”

  “This seems complicated,” I said. “And I don’t like that dead body was found here and you lie about it straight to my eyeballs.”

  “See,” said Amy. “Nobody likes your shady business practices.”

  I glanced at Amy. In truth, I didn’t love her suspicious behavior, either. It seemed like Amy was tangled up with both Todd and Damien before Todd’s death. But I liked Amy. So did Steve the dog. And Kitty. And See-Saw. We couldn’t all be wrong about her.

  Could we?

  Damien sent off a few more texts, head buried in his phone.

  “Do you even care about the success of the business that opens here?” Amy asked.

  “As long as the rent gets paid I honestly don’t,” said Damien. “This isn’t a charity. And if you don’t have the money to rent the place, maybe your business is a failure and you need to admit that to yourself.”

  “Her business is terrific. She makes all the dogs and cats have short, beautiful hairs,” I said. Whoops…

  Amy turned to me. “I’m sorry. Have I…I don’t recognize you. Are you a client? Have I groomed one of your pets?”

  Gulp. A little bit of Chelsea had slipped out of Anna Kournikova’s mouth. “Oh. No. But I’ve heard good things. Lots of buzz around town about how you chop the hairs of the animals and make them look so pretty and clean.”

  “Oh. Thank you.”

  “Glad you two are getting along so well,” said Damien. “But look, I need to jet. Amy, let m
e know if you can get the money together, OK? Same to you, Madame…”

  “Kournikova,” I said.

  “Cool. Like the tennis player.”

  “No,” I retorted. “Nothing like tennis player. Not same.”

  Amy put her hands on her hips. “I’ll get the money together. You’ll see. I’m a determined and smart businesswoman. And I’m going to succeed.”

  Damien dismissed Amy’s confidence with an arrogant chuckle. But I saw a glint in her eye that seemed to say Amy would not accept defeat.

  On the one hand, Amy’s tenacity inspired me. I liked a determined heroine. But on the other hand, her anger worried me. It seemed Amy might have had a lot to gain from Todd losing his lease… and his life. So I was left wondering…

  Was this the last commercial rental space in Pine Grove good enough to kill for?

  15

  Hello, It’s Me

  I hobbled into the Brown Cow still wearing my Russian grandmother disguise. Although I spotted Miss May and Teeny at their table by the window, I didn’t walk over to them right away. Instead, I took a moment to bask in my anonymity.

  Life in a small town is wonderful, don’t get me wrong.

  There’s nothing better than knowing the people who work in the shops and walk through the streets, your neighbors. But on a typical day, if I had walked into the Brown Cow, three people would have shouted hello to me, at least. I would’ve had to have a decently long conversation with each of them, whether I was in a chatty mood or not. And at least one of them, invariably, would have asked about my relationship with Wayne.

  Things were always so up and down and backwards with Wayne. Forgive me if some days, I’d rather not share every detail with the town. Anyway, that was all a long way of saying I enjoyed being Anna Kournikova that day.

  I enjoyed it so much, in fact, that I stood near the entrance for a full five minutes after walking inside. Humphrey, our town’s grumpiest old man, brushed past me without even a greeting. The town lawyer, Tom Gigley, did the same. I also spotted two of my high school teachers sharing a cup of coffee at a little table. But they didn’t notice me. And not even Brian, Teeny, or Miss May recognized me.