Buzz Off (20 page)

“Right.”

I heard a voice in the background. “Is that Hunter I hear?”

“That’s him.”

“Tell him I’m sorry I called him a jerk.”

“Tell him yourself.” There were sounds of Carrie Ann passing the phone over.

Jeez.
I wasn’t ready for a face-to-face apology, or even a voice-to-voice one. I still didn’t like what he had done, coming on to me while having a relationship with Carrie Ann.

“Hello?” Hunter said innocently.

“I’d like to apologize for calling you names,” I said.

There was a pause. “You only called me one,” he said.

“But I thought more of them in my head.”

“Oh.” Another pause, then, “We should talk.”

“Yes, soon.”

I hung up wondering if I still had to honor my promise to Hunter to give Carrie Ann another chance. He’d continue to push for it, I was sure, and she had been good for a few days. But I didn’t have time to think on the cousin problem any longer because the store got jumping with business.

Stu Trembly came through on his way to the bar. He bought a newspaper and a bag of small chocolate bars.

“Has Carrie Ann been hanging at the bar?” I asked him.

“Last night was the first time this week.”

Confirming my suspicions. “It’s only Tuesday, Stu.”

Aurora Tyler from Moraine Gardens came in for yogurt.

“Any idea who called in that fire alarm?” she still wanted to know.

“Not a hint,” I said. “All I’m sure of is that it wasn’t anybody who was at the meeting.”

“Kids, you think?”

“Probably,” I agreed.

Next, Lori Spandle came in without her headgear, looking for eggs—and trouble.

“My bees are gone,” I told her.

“Good riddance. Mind if I check that out for myself?”

“Go ahead, just don’t put one foot in my yard.”

“Then how can I verify whether you are telling the truth or not?”

“Stu has a canoe. Use the river like the Indians did.”

Lori smirked. “No way. I heard what happens on that river when you’re around.”

I overcharged her on the eggs. She didn’t notice.

Her husband, Grant, showed up ten minutes later.

“My Sweetie-poo is seriously upset,” he said.

I picked up a honey stick and held it out. “This should help with her condition. And a case of them might make a dent in sweetening her tart disposition.”
Tart
having two meanings in this case.

“Why can’t you be friends with her?” he asked. “That’s all she wants.”

Milly Hopticourt arrived with fresh bouquets for the flower bin, followed by P. P. Patti Dwyre, just the woman I needed.

“Patti, I’ve been hearing rumors,” I said. If anyone knew the gossip, Patti would, that is if there was gossip to know.

That perked her up. “Really!”

“About my ex.”

She flapped a wrist at me. “Common knowledge. Yesterday’s news.”

“About him and Grace Chapman.”

Patti’s eyes lit up. “What do you know? Let’s compare.”

“All I heard was that she and Clay had . . . you know . . . something going.”

Milly, still arranging bouquets, clucked in disapproval. “Grace is burying her husband this afternoon.”

“You’re right,” I said. “How tacky of me.”

Which it was.

Milly went on arranging the bouquets, tucking one here, moving one there, standing back and eyeing her work. Patti wandered off with a wink that said as soon as Milly left, we’d trade info.

She had to wait awhile because business stayed strong. When I had a chance, I opened a jug of the cider Ray had brought and set it out with little paper cups for customers to sample.

The phone rang a few times, and I had to let the answering machine pick it up. I needed to grow extra hands, or find more reliable help. Patti went outside and sat on a bench, determined to continue our conversation if she had to wait all day.

Some of the seniors who had been in the choir loft playing cards when the police chief took me away wanted to know the scoop.

“Vindicated,” I said. “The police chief was overreacting.”

“What do you think about that ex-husband of yours? Did he do it?”

“He’ll get his day in court.”

I should have gone into politics, I was so smooth at saying nothing. Not that I knew much. I hadn’t heard any updates on Clay’s situation or on the investigation into Faye’s murder, which I assumed would be ongoing. Johnny Jay had a suspect in custody but he still had to prove Clay did it.

Milly rounded up the seniors to all go out for corn on the cob, and they set off up the street—corn on the cob drenched in butter and salt sounded good, but I couldn’t leave the store. Instead I downed a handful of almonds.

My sister, Holly, finally arrived to help me. I let out a sigh of relief. “Eleven o’clock already?” I couldn’t believe where the morning had gone. My sister wore a white, low-cut V-neck tee with jeans, and rings the size of rocks on her fingers. Expensive-looking ones, too, compared to the sterling silver, twelve-dollar Celtic knot ring I wore on my right hand. I always noticed these things about Holly, and it annoyed me that I had such a jealous streak. I wasn’t exactly perfect, but I vowed on the spot to be a better sister and friend.

Holly sniffed. Either she was still angry, or I had leftover skunk smell on me.

“Can you smell skunk? You can, can’t you?”

“Only if I try.” Then she started laughing and wouldn’t stop.

“I don’t see any humor in the situation.” I bristled. “And you didn’t, either, last night.”

“You should have heard what Mom said on the phone to me this morning.” Holly wiped away tears. I was pleased to see that her mascara streaked—and I wasn’t going to tell her.

“I don’t want to know what she said.”

“K. It would only make you mad,” Holly agreed. “What should I do first here?”

“You have the hang of the cash register?”

“Like it’s my own.”

Which it sort of was, considering the fine print and the line I’d signed on.

“Then I’m going to sit outside for a few minutes. Get off my feet.”

Outside, Patti slid over and patted the bench.

“Milly’s right,” I said. “Today isn’t the day to dis Grace.”

“Funeral days are the biggest gossip days of the year,” Patti said. “That’s when the family’s past comes up for review. Haven’t you ever noticed that?”

Now that she mentioned it, I had. People liked to tell stories about the deceased and that involved stories that included the loved ones left behind. Some of the stories were told in groups, some during eulogies, and some in quiet corners where the main focus of the story couldn’t be overheard.

“I still think we should wait.”

“Okay.” Patti shrugged like it didn’t matter. “But I have inside information and I might think it over and decide to keep it to myself.”

She was making it hard on me.

“Who around here found out about them first?” I asked.

“Me, of course. I saw them together.”

Right then, DeeDee Becker, Lori Spandle’s little sister, walked past and entered The Wild Clover without a glance in our direction. DeeDee was into lots of pierced flesh, loud clashing colors, and carrying a purse the size of a suitcase. I was sure she’d been shoplifting from my store, but I hadn’t been able to prove it. Then I realized I hadn’t warned my sister to keep an eye on her.

“Sorry, Patti, I’ve got to get back inside,” I said, deciding on the spot to speak only kindness about surviving loved ones. At least for one day.

I went back inside and shared my suspicions with Holly. Then I followed DeeDee around the store for a while without any red-handed results and was about to call it a day when I heard commotion at the front door. Holly had busted DeeDee with a bag of potato chips in her purse and four packs of gum in her jeans’ back pockets.

My sister had tackled DeeDee right on the sidewalk, pinned her to the pavement, and still had a hand free to use her cell phone to report the crime. Talk about multitasking.

“Since when did you learn wrestling holds?” I asked my sister.

“Let me up,” DeeDee wailed. “I didn’t do anything.”

After a little more scuffling, Holly produced the evidence.

I couldn’t believe my eyes. “Gum and chips? How damn dumb can you get, DeeDee? I know you have enough money to pay for that!”

“I’ll never do it again,” DeeDee said, crying full-out. “I’ve learned my lesson.”

Yeah, sure. Owning a store had taught me a few things I wished I didn’t have to deal with. Shoplifting was the biggie. I’d learned a little bit about shoplifters:

In my opinion, DeeDee was a classic case.

Holly still had her in some sort of professional power hold.

Sirens in the distance were coming our way. DeeDee looked at me like a trapped wild animal.

“Maybe we shouldn’t press charges,” I said to Holly. My sister, though, wasn’t about to catch and release this bottom-feeder. If it had been up to me, I would have let her go with a warning. “She feels bad enough,” I argued, “and she doesn’t need a criminal record. But I really do want to know where you learned those moves.”

“Self-defense class,” my sister said. “I modified just now, added a little offense.”

I asked Johnny Jay not to call any more attention to us than we’d already attracted by Holly’s sidewalk tackle, but he still left the lights flashing on his squad car while we all piled back into the store to find a private corner. All the while, DeeDee was denying any wrongdoing and begging to be released, but Johnny Jay kept a firm grip on her arm while he walked her to the back of the store.

I ended up working the cash register while Holly gave her report from the storage room. I tried to listen in, but it was hopeless. The squad lights had the locals all coming in for “forgotten” items, and I was stuck up front. It appeared that DeeDee had rounded up a little extra business for me while she worked on ruining her own life.

“The police chief locked himself out of his squad car with the lights going,” I replied to everyone’s inquiries, although they’d have the facts straight soon enough. Nothing was a secret around here for long. “He went looking for someone to bring a spare key. No big deal.”

After a while, the three of them came out of the back. DeeDee wasn’t wearing handcuffs, which was a good thing. Chatter in the store ceased. You could have heard a single corn silk hit the polished wood floor.

“It’s your call,” Johnny Jay said to me. “You own the store. She stole from you. What do you want to do?”

I didn’t know what I wanted. Lori was my sworn enemy, and this was her sister. On the other hand, I couldn’t blame DeeDee for having a rotten sibling. Although she wasn’t much of a gem herself.

“I don’t have all day, Missy Fischer,” the police chief said.

“Let her go, but I don’t want her in my store anymore.”

“I can go along with that,” Holly, the female all-star, said, nodding in agreement.

A few customers applauded. I heard one boo.

DeeDee was out the door and gone before we realized that the packs of gum were still missing. I hate it when I’m outsmarted.

But I had bigger robberies to worry about.

“I want to report a theft,” I told the police chief after Holly went up front and I had pulled him into a corner. I explained how Manny’s bees had vanished. “You’re all over the county looking for trouble,” I finished. “I’m just giving you a heads-up in case you see beehives where there weren’t any before.” Then I remembered that I’d moved my bees to Grams’s back field, which would constitute a bee change of venue in the picture I was painting. “Except if you spot any near my Grams’s house.”

“Is this some kind of joke?” Johnny Jay said. “You can’t file a report for something that doesn’t belong to you in the first place.”

“I’m just keeping you in the loop, then.”

“What makes you think I care about your loop?”

“Fine, forget it.”

Johnny Jay looked pleased, like he’d won a round, and I remembered what Sally the dispatcher had said about the consequences of turning down Johnny Jay’s prom invitation. I’d suffer for the rest of my life for that one.

Then he said, “Maybe you have something after all. Where could those bees have gone? And do they figure into the break-in?”

“What break-in?”

“Manny must have told you.”

“I didn’t hear anything about it.” Not too surprising. Manny wasn’t a man of many words. Unless it had to do with his bees. Then he could go on for hours.