The Mint Julep Murder

by CC Dragon

  “I didn’t forget,” he said.

  “Nope, on the house. Gran doesn’t charge law enforcement,” I said.

  “Thanks, but I haven’t officially started yet,” Gus replied.

  “Then it’s a welcome-to-town drink,” Gran added.

  “Hopefully I’ll get that coffee machine and you’ll be a regular,” I suggested.

  He put a five-dollar bill on the counter. “You need a tip jar.”

  “No, that’s silly for a bakery shop,” Gran said.

  “Thank you, Mr. Haywood. He’s right, Gran, donut shops in Atlanta have them. All the coffee places do,” I shared.

  “Call me Gus.” He lifted his drink as he headed for the door.

  “Deputy,” Joe suggested.

  Gus sighed. “Soon enough.”

  “Deputy,” I agreed. When the seniors used titles for respect, I wasn’t going to push past that to more familiar terms. But Gus sounded better.

  The door jingled and closed.

  “He’s handsome and well-mannered,” Gran said.

  “Unlike most of the deputies,” Freddie chuckled.

  “The sheriff will love him. Big-city experience and not in it for power.” I cleaned up the blenders.

  “You got that right,” Milan scoffed. “Unless people like him better than the sheriff.”

  “Are you guys taking Gran out for dinner?” I teased.

  “Oh no, she never does big dinner stuff because she has to work so early. We’ll take her to lunch tomorrow,” Joe replied.

  “Okay, good. I’ll make pasta.” I needed a routine and was going to make plans. I grabbed one of Gran’s large empty preserve jars and set it on the counter. Dropping the five-dollar bill in the jar, I couldn’t argue with the suggestion. I didn’t label the jar for tips, but having it out was a signal. This was my business now too and we had to play to some of the trends while keeping the small-town feel.

  * * * *

  Monday morning, I still had mint julep on the menu and the berries were still good. I prepped the coffee and hummed, hoping Deputy Gus might stop in again.

  Gran arranged her cinnamon rolls along with her traditional biscuits.

  “Some people like biscuits and gravy,” I mentioned.

  “It’s the south, dear. Lots of people do.” Gran sipped her own coffee.

  “But you’re one of the best cooks in Tennessee. You could put out your gravy one morning just for a change,” I said.

  She chuckled. “This is a preserves shop, not a breakfast stand.”

  “I know, but I’m adding smoothies and coffee. Making one morning all about your famous biscuits and gravy might bring people in,” I said.

  “Your drinks are nice things to accompany the breakfast goodies. Which accent my preserves.”

  Only my Gran could believe she’d sustain a shop on her preserves alone. I’d told her many times to do that out of her house and at fests over the summer. She liked her storefront.

  It was five minutes before opening time and someone knocked on the door.

  I peeked through the beige blinds and it was Milan.

  I opened the door and all four guys piled in.

  “Oh dear, you’re not going to believe it,” Freddie said.

  “What?” I brushed off my apron decorated with large pictures of fruit and tossed it behind the counter.

  “Bea, it’s not a good day,” Joe warned.

  “What is it? We’re not mind readers,” she replied.

  “Sheriff Monroe is dead,” Milan announced.

  “What?” Gran and I gasped together.

  “Well, shut my mouth,” I muttered.

  “He started vomiting and complaining of stomach pain after dinner last night. His wife had him rushed to the hospital in Nashville. He died on the way,” Freddie sighed.

  Gran sat down with the guys. “Nashville. What’s wrong with our little hospital here?”

  “You know how she is. The city is better,” Milan replied.

  “Well, there are more medical resources there. But if you don’t make it there in time, it’s no good.” I tried not to worry about what Gran might need one day.

  “They’re doing an autopsy. He had his physical a month ago and he was fine,” Joe said.

  I frowned. “How do you know that?”

  “Law enforcement requires annual physicals for insurance and everything. I’m a former deputy,” Freddie explained.

  “Weird that he got sick so fast,” I said.

  “He wasn’t in the best shape. A heart attack can come out of nowhere.” Gran refilled her coffee.

  “They’re saying he was vomiting, and a bunch of other stuff suddenly. Mrs. Monroe swears it was poison.” Milan shook his head.

  “I’m sure the deputies will be investigating the restaurant where they had dinner.” I flipped the sign on the door and opened it since the weather was nice.

  There was no one out there.

  “I’m not sure you’ll get much business today.” Freddie frowned.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  Just then Deputy Henshaw walked in.

  “Good morning. Mrs. Baxter.” He tipped his hat. “Belle, sorry.”

  “Morning, Deputy. You’re sorry about what exactly?” Mike Henshaw and I had been in high school together. He’d been popular and I hadn’t, but he’d never been really mean like some. Still, he was being extra nice now.

  “I’m afraid we need to confiscate your blenders and ingredients for the mint julep smoothies. For further testing. I’m sure it’s all fine,” he said.

  “What? Plenty of people had smoothies. Was he allergic to anything? There’s no nuts or anything in there, but people can be allergic to anything,” I rambled.

  “No allergies, according to his doc, and there was no visible allergic reaction.” Mike shook his head.

  “You can’t think…” I was a suspect? “It’s crazy. I had no ax to grind with him.”

  “I know, but we have to be thorough. The medical examiner is running a tox screen and they’re going to check everything, but we can’t let anyone destroy evidence—just in case,” Mike said.

  “Take what you want, but that other deputy had the same thing right after the sheriff,” Gran scolded.

  “Which deputy?” Mike asked.

  “Gus. He said he hasn’t officially started yet.” I gestured to behind the counter. “Help yourself. Can we still serve coffee and preserves?”

  “Sheriff have any yesterday?” Mike asked.

  “No,” Gran replied.

  “Then you’re fine. We’ll get to the bottom of this as soon as we can, I promise. We had to shut down the restaurant to be sure. That’s a lot of testing and sampling. This is crazy. I can’t believe he’s gone.” Mike adjusted his hat.

  “I’m so sorry he’s gone, but no one else reported any illness from anything they had here. I didn’t do anything differently. I have nothing against the sheriff.” I shrugged.

  “We know he pulled you over your first night back,” Mike replied.

  “He’s pulled nearly everyone in town over at one point or another. Plus, he let me off with a warning. It wasn’t a big deal,” I said.

  “He said you were really annoyed with him.” Mike went out and returned with a box.

  Gran huffed. “The sheriff ate terribly and smoked when his wife wasn’t looking.”

  “Then the autopsy will show it, Gran. We have nothing to hide,” I said.

  “That’s the right attitude. We’ll take a more formal statement later, but right now I just need to take possession before evidence is destroyed. I’ll be out of your way in a few.” Mike went behind the counter.

  I sat in the front without customers. Was this a sign?

  My phone binged. I expected a message from Katie. Instead it was a notification that my coffee machine had shipped.

  Perfect timing!

  Chapter Five

  It’d been a few days and there was no news. No one else had even gotten a little sick, so food po
isoning was ruled out. The entire town was on edge but no one else had died. Clearly it was personal—whoever had killed the sheriff was only after him.

  Gran had fallen asleep early and I needed to get out.

  I walked into the packed bar and found that it didn’t help my mood at all. People were looking at me.

  Katie waved me over and found me a spot. “Hey, you look like you need a drink.”

  “Business has been slow. It’s not that way here.” I looked around with a teensy bit of envy.

  Katie looked around. “People want to forget when bad things happen, especially things that they can’t control or explain.”

  “They think you did it,” Lurlene said from a few spots down.

  “Please. That dog won’t hunt.” I shook my head.

  Katie bit her lower lip.

  “Really? What reason could they possibly think I’d have to want to hurt the sheriff?” I asked.

  Lurlene pursed her lips. “He pulled you over. Maybe you just wanted to make him sick? A little payback for police harassment. Maybe you put in too much poison?”

  My jaw dropped. “I’d never poison anyone. How could people think that?”

  Katie scoffed. “It was probably a heart attack or something. Natural. The guy drank, smoked and had a bad diet.”

  Deputy Lou Foster sauntered up to the bar and took the stool between me and Lurlene. “Ladies.” He touched the brim of his hat.

  “What’ll you have, Lou?” Katie asked.

  “Coke. I’m always on call now,” Lou said.

  “Any news?” I asked.

  Lou sighed. He wasn’t the cleverest of the deputies, but he was the most likely to spill things he shouldn’t. “Nothing really. Just ruled out some things.”

  Gus walked up and stood next to me. He felt so tall and solid standing close by. “Ladies, Lou. What’s the good word?”

  Lou shot Gus an annoyed glance but covered quickly with a sip of his drink. “I was just going to update the ladies. Post-mortem said his heart gave out, but his physical said nothing was wrong so they’re still looking. Something else killed him.”

  “Any poison in that blender of yours, Belle?” Lurlene teased.

  “If there were, I’d be dead. I had the same thing as the sheriff, made not five minutes later,” Gus defended.

  I tried not to blush. Gus was the man every woman was talking about, but he wasn’t just good-looking—he was kind and honest. But the dark brown hair and slight stubble made it hard to focus on his character.

  “A deputy for an alibi. Whatever did you do to get him so firmly on your side?” Lurlene asked.

  “An officer of the law can’t be bribed,” Lou jumped in.

  Gus nodded. “He’s right. At least a good one can’t. There were plenty of witnesses to the sheriff and me being there.”

  Lurlene shot me a look. “They’re checking everyone, but come on. She worked at Starbucks and had to make drinks fast. All the customers out from socializing while she’s behind the counter working the machines. I have full faith that Belle could’ve slipped a special ingredient into the sheriff’s smoothie after it was blended. Powder or something. Or even blend it in then swap out the pitcher for another one before she made any else’s drink. I could never work that fast.”

  “Working fast doesn’t make someone a murderer,” Lou replied.

  I got the sense that Lou wasn’t in a rush to solve anything. He liked the attention, the power and the intrigue.

  “Fast doesn’t mean easy either,” Katie snarked at Lurlene.

  “You fast girls do stick together.” Lurlene put money on the bar. “Gus, would you walk me to my car?”

  “Allow me.” Lou stood up.

  “But…thanks.” Lurlene fumbled for a polite way back to the man she wanted to get alone.

  “It’s part of my job. I’m working here a bit, security on a trial basis.” Lou looked at Katie.

  “It’s true. One of my half-brothers started community college and his schedule sucks. Lou is helping,” she replied.

  Lurlene smiled. “Well, this is a friendly favor, not a job.”

  Gus stood up straight, like he’d oblige. “I’m not sure we know each other well enough to be friends, but I’m certainly not going to step on Lou’s toes. Katie should get what she paid for and I should work on making friends here.”

  Lurlene was stuck as Lou offered his arm.

  Being a polite southern lady sometimes cornered a woman. I’d been there. I almost felt sorry for her, but Lou wasn’t drunk or creepy. She started to leave. I gave her a little wave and turned to Gus.

  “That woman could start an argument in an empty house,” I scoffed.

  “The problem is, who else has motive?” Katie said once they were gone.

  Gus sighed. “I wish we had a better lead. He didn’t do anything out of the ordinary that day except the smoothie.”

  “But Belle would never hurt a fly,” Katie insisted.

  Gus grinned at me and I had to look away. This guy was too good to be true. He had flaws—I just had to find them. Gran’s advice on marriage was finding someone a person loved enough to put up with their bad habits and quirks, because no one was perfect. Gus’ looks and musical interests were pros…but there had to be some cons somewhere.

  “I believe it, and plenty of people had access to the sheriff. Poison can be passed in other ways, not just food. But why would anyone want to kill him? He’s been elected in a landslide year after year, according to what I’ve heard,” Gus said.

  “But you’re new. No one is going to talk bad about the sheriff to a new deputy,” Katie pointed out.

  “Who would have a grudge against Monroe?” Gus asked.

  I shared a look with Katie. “I mean, obviously someone else wants that job. Plenty of people, I’m sure. But to kill over it? That’s crazy.”

  “Some people become obsessed over things. Something not that big to others feels intensely personal to someone else,” Gus replied. “Obviously they’ll be looking at people he put into jail who are now free.”

  “That makes way more sense,” I agreed.

  “We definitely don’t know the sheriff that well. I don’t know his secrets,” Katie said.

  “Exactly. I didn’t raise my voice to the sheriff when he pulled me over. Why would I do anything to hurt him over a warning?” I sipped whatever Katie had put in front of me.

  “That makes no sense. Is your grandmother doing okay?” Gus asked.

  “She’s worried about the sheriff’s widow. Business has been down and she’s worried about that but won’t say it. She does appreciate your breakfast business,” I replied.

  “Home-cooked pastry is hard to beat. It’s pretty busy still,” Gus remarked.

  “Sure, for her coffee and pastries. The smoothies are dead. I even bought a new blender since Katie’s is still in police custody for some reason.” I stirred my drink mindlessly.

  Gus put his hand on my arm and I tried not to jump as my skin tingled.

  “They don’t have the tox screen back. If they find something, they’ll be trying to match it up with anything and everything. The diner still has pots and pans in evidence,” Gus said.

  “Thanks,” I replied.

  “I’m lucky he didn’t come in that day or the night before. He usually drinks bottled beer, but they’d be accusing us of slipping him a mickey.” Katie shook her head.

  “They?” Gus prompted.

  “Gossips in town. Girls from the wrong side of the tracks will always get the blame.” Katie went to service more patrons.

  “Which side is the right side?” Gus asked.

  I chuckled. “Sweet Grove isn’t laid out like that exactly. Gran is a staple of the community, but the Baxters have never been well off. Then my mom came along and was sort of wild. That kind of thing—you’re only as good as your most embarrassing relation. Now, if you’re rich, you get away with more.”

  “I can’t believe that,” Gus said.

  “Then you’re
not paying attention to gossip. Which is a good trait, but if you’re going to be a deputy, you have to deal in how people do act, not just how they should,” I teased.

  Gus leaned on the bar. He smelled good in a hard-to-pin-down way, with a hint of pine trees. He was in jeans and boots with a gray dress shirt open at the collar and rolled up at the sleeves.

  “I filter information just fine. Rumor and gossip can be remembered without being given credit. Everyone has an agenda. They all have an angle and their own goals and priorities,” he replied.

  “I don’t have an angle,” I defended.

  “Saving your Gran’s business isn’t an angle?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “No, it’s a goal, sure. Small businesses are getting edged out and it’s harder to turn a profit. She’s getting older. Maybe I should’ve just convinced her to sell her house and the shop and move to Atlanta with me. At least then we wouldn’t be poor as field mice.”

  Gus was quiet for a moment and I wished I hadn’t said that. Did it make me seem guilty? I hoped not, but it did make me seem desperate and afraid. I didn’t want him thinking I liked him and was looking to land a man for stability.

  “I’m glad you didn’t. I might have missed out.” He sipped his drink.

  “Missed out?” Katie came back at just the wrong time.

  “On Gran’s great pastries…if they had closed the shop during the investigation. That would be such a bummer. Luckily the sheriff only had a smoothie. Small towns need their core eateries,” I said.

  Katie nodded. “She should make it a donut shop or something.”

  “I like the fancy coffee and I’m man enough to admit it,” Gus said.

  That manly to own it, here? He was great. Too good to be true.

  Another bartender rang a bell over the bar. “Last call.”

  “It can’t be that late.” Gus checked his phone.

  He had a few texts from a pretty, redheaded young woman, but I glanced away. He was probably taken and his girlfriend was just settling her job before she moved to Sweet Grove.

  “Sorry we talked your ear off.” I hopped off the stool. “I’ll help clean up, Katie.”

  “Thanks, but you don’t have to.” Katie sighed as she watched half the bar settle their tabs and head for the door. The other half ordered one last round. “It has been crazy busy tonight.”