Honeybee Cozy Mysteries Box Set

by Katherine Hayton

  “Harriet will open it up when she arrives,” Alice reassured her. “It’s still a few minutes until she’s due.”

  Sally stared at her watch in disbelief, then double-checked with the clock on the wall. She shook her head slowly. “I thought it was much later.”

  “That’s just the shock, ma’am,” the sergeant said. “Once you feel a bit better, we’d like to ask you a few questions.”

  “Of course.” Sally tried to stand up, but her shaking legs didn’t let her get very far. “Sorry, I don’t know what’s going on.”

  “Just sit there,” Alice said in her sternest voice. She turned to the sergeant. “Can somebody get my friend a cup of hot, sweet tea? I’m sure it’ll help her recover faster.”

  “I don’t know we can swing that.” Sergeant Hogarth turned to another officer and nodded. “But we can fetch a soft drink from the machine.”

  “Lemonade, thanks,” Sally said in a small voice. She held a shaking hand up to her forehead as another wave of tears caught her in its wake. “I can’t wait for this day to end.”

  A woman’s voice called out from down the corridor. “What’s going on? What’s happened?” The sharp clip of high heels charged down the hallway and a distraught face peered into the room. “Where’s my husband?”

  It was the woman Alice had seen when she dropped the honey jars off a few days earlier. She averted her eyes as the Sergeant began to explain the matter, not wanting to see the distress turn into outright grief.

  As she leaned away, Alice caught another sour tang from Sally’s breath, stronger than the one from the day before. Much as she wanted to believe it wasn’t so, the aromatic scent of wine was the closest matching odor. For some reason, her teetotal friend had taken to drink.

  Once she admitted the thought, other signs came in quick succession. The shakes may in part be down to shock, but the reddened eyes surely weren’t all down to crying, nor were the swollen capillaries radiating out in snaky trails across Sally’s cheeks.

  “What’s going on?” Alice whispered, leaning in closer to her friend. “Why are you drinking?”

  Sally jerked back and clutched her hands up to her chest. “What are you talking about? I’m in shock because there’s a dead body lying in the next room.”

  Alice tried to whisper something more, but Sally shook her head, denying the words before she could even say them. “I can’t believe you’re acting this way when I need your help. If you’re going to be like this, you might as well go home.”

  The sergeant caught the tail end of that speech and held up a hand. “Actually, please don’t go yet, Miss Townsend. I wouldn’t mind checking a few details with you about the jars of honey we found in Mr. Dunbar’s office.”

  Alice hadn’t been going to follow Sally’s instruction, presuming it was just her overwrought emotions talking, but now she stood up. The sergeant handed the care of Mrs. Dunbar over to another officer, then beckoned Alice out into the hallway and along a few yards before gesturing for her to stop.

  “I don’t know how much you saw coming past,” the sergeant said in a whisper. “But the pathologist hasn’t yet removed Mr. Dunbar’s body from his office. If the sight of that will upset you, better you stay out here.”

  “I’ve seen a dead body before,” Alice countered, then frowned as Mrs. Dunbar let out a wail, perhaps overhearing the topic of conversation. “But why do you want me to go into the office, anyway?”

  “We found a jar of honey that forms part of the crime scene,” Sergeant Hogarth explained. “From what the teachers tell us, you brought along a tray of honey for the school to raffle, and I’m just looking for confirmation of whether the jar formed part of that lot, or if it could have been brought elsewhere.”

  Alice gave a quick peek over his shoulder, seeing the bottom of Alex Dunbar’s shoes. Although what she said was true about having seen a dead person before, and in the sergeant’s company no less, she was in no hurry to see another. Especially not one she’d formed an attachment to in life.

  “I wouldn’t know.” Alice pulled at her lip as she thought back through the bottling process she’d followed a few days previously. “The system I followed for the school pots is the same one I always use. I don’t know I’d be able to tell. It seems more than likely though, doesn’t it?”

  “Okay.” The sergeant turned as an officer outside called his name, and his attention moved away with it. “Thanks for your help, then. We’ll let you know if there’s anything more we need.”

  Alice watched him walk outside and stood still for a few minutes, at a loss as to what to do next. Should she stay in case Sally needed her, even though her friend had made it perfectly clear she wanted her to go?

  Chester needed her. Chester wouldn’t say mean things and tell her she might as well go home.

  She took a few steps toward the exit, mentally shifting gears so her dog once again occupied all her thoughts. A second later, a woman ran past the door, grabbing the sergeant by the arm until he swung around.

  “What’s going on, here? I sent my son to school this morning, just like usual, and then my neighbor tells me it’s been canceled for the day.”

  “Your son?” Sergeant Hogarth turned a frown toward a PC standing nearby. “I thought all the children had been met at the gate and escorted home if their parents hadn’t already received the message?”

  The PC nodded. “That’s right. There were only three turned up without hearing the radio announcement, and we made sure they got home and had someone there to care for them for the day. One we had to drop off at a daycare, but that was at the request of the mother.”

  “Then, where is he?” the woman shrieked, her alarm transmitting out around the circle of people like a virus, infecting everyone. “Where’s Michael?”

  Chapter Six

  Alice joined the group of teachers waiting near the gates. For some reason, the woman’s shock announcement held her fast, and she felt like she must stay in place until they found the boy.

  “He’s probably bunking off school for the day,” a male teacher said, picking at a loose thread on his cuff. “It’s going to be a nasty shock if he turns up at home, pretending everything was okay.”

  “Surely, the kids here are too young to bunk off school,” Alice said.

  At that, the group of teachers laughed. “There’s a load of children who it would never occur to,” the male teacher explained. “And then there’re kids you can’t get to turn up unless they’re escorted to the classroom and held there by a parent until the teacher arrives.”

  “Really?” Alice’s mind boggled at the idea. She hadn’t liked going to school, not one single day of it, but the thought of wagging hadn’t even raised its head as a possibility until she was well into high school. Even then, it took other teenagers in her class to do it. The idea had to be introduced.

  “At this age, some children don’t even realize the difference between right and wrong. It never occurs to them their parents will be out of their minds with worry if they go off by themselves. They just see something and want to do it, so they do.”

  “It’s not even them being naughty, really,” another woman chimed in. “If they’ve been helping out on the farm at home all weekend, all they want is a break for themselves.”

  “Is it a rural thing, then?” Alice asked. Although she now lived out in the country, she’d been raised in a suburb in town.

  “Perhaps. I’ve only ever taught here, straight out of teacher’s college,” the same woman replied. “One of our first lessons every school year is why leaving school without telling anybody is wrong.”

  “There’re folks around here who treat their children like little adults when it comes to chores,” another man said. “So, it’s no surprise they consider themselves autonomous when it comes to school.”

  Trish Clarkson tugged at Alice’s elbow and shook her head. “They’re ribbing you,” she said in a soft voice. “We have maybe one day each year where we lose track of a child for an hour o
r two, max. There are so many rules in place around phoning parents to check on sick days, I’m surprised anybody manages to wag school.”

  Alice looked around the group who smiled uncomfortably at being caught out. “So, it’s not likely he’s gone off by himself, then?”

  The first male teacher who’d started the ruse sighed. “Michael did it last year and gave everyone a heart attack for half a morning. It’s a possibility.”

  “He was in tears after that,” Trish reminded him. “The poor boy thought he’d be locked up, and the key thrown away.”

  “Well,” the male teacher smiled. “It scared him straight, I suppose.”

  “Where is he likely to have gone?” Alice looked around the group, uncertain now if she should believe them even if they answered her.

  “Was his dad after more custody?” Trish asked. “I know we had a warning a few weeks ago, but I sometimes can’t keep the children straight.” At Alice’s raised eyebrows, she laughed and said, “It’s not as bad as it sounds. I’m the school treasurer, not a teacher.”

  “Yeah, they’re all just numbers on a spreadsheet to Trish,” the male teacher said with a grin.

  “That’s right, Donnie. And the number next to your name might be going down if you’re not careful.”

  An officer approached the group, accompanied by a “Here comes trouble,” from Donnie. He offered them a half-smile, then pulled out a notebook. “Can you each take turns to say your name, and when you arrived at the school, this morning?”

  “I’m not with the school,” Alice said quickly. “I only came along because my friend found the body and is shaken up.”

  The officer directed her to stand apart and continued on with his questioning of the teachers. Considering their employer had just been found dead, and a child was missing, they seemed to Alice to be in overly good spirits.

  Once the officer had finished, she rejoined the group.

  “If that’s the best they’ve got,” Donnie said with a jerk of his head toward the departing PC, “then poor Michael’s in a heap of trouble.”

  “Oh, hush,” Trish scolded him. “Somebody’s got to ask the simple questions before they can move on to the more complex ones. If you’re so anxious to find Michael, why don’t you offer up some suggestions as to where he is.”

  “Well, he’s not with his dad, that’s for sure,” Donnie said grumpily. “It’s Kevin who’s being fought over. I don’t think Michael’s dad even knows he’s alive.”

  “His poor mother,” Alice said, following the woman as she half-collapsed near the office. “I thought Sally was badly off, but she’s in a far worse state.”

  “Is Sally your partner?” Trish asked.

  “Business partner,” Alice said quickly, having been caught out on the wrong side of that particular question once before. “We run a cafe together, and I supply all the honey products.”

  “You know that’s what killed the principal, don’t you?”

  Alice turned to Trish, her eyes opened wide. “What do you mean?”

  “Somebody bashed the poor fellow over the head with one of your honey jars. As far as I could see, it caught him right on the temple.”

  “When were you looking at the body?” Donnie asked with some interest. “I thought the police sealed the office off as soon as they got in?”

  “They did. Some of us just turn up to work a lot sooner than others.”

  “Don’t blame me for your poor work/life balance.” Donnie grinned at Trish to take the sting of the words away. “Some of us have snooze alarms to service.”

  The small group burst into laughter, earning themselves a few pointed looks from the officers dotted around the scene. Mrs. Dunbar came rushing out and gave them a black look that shamed them into silence.

  “When did she get here?” Donnie muttered. “Considering the only reason she ever turned up was to yell at Alex, I can only imagine she’ll be happy he’s dead.”

  Trish hushed him as the sobbing widow retreated back inside, accompanied by an officer. “They only broke up a short while ago,” she said and sighed. “I can’t imagine being in her shoes, right now.”

  Alice shook her head and focused on the item most worrying to her. “I suppose that explains why the sergeant wanted to know about the jars, if that’s how the poor man was killed.” She paused and closed her eyes for a moment. “How awful for Sally. First, she finds the body, then she finds out one of our products was used to kill him.”

  “Yeah.” Donnie gave Alice a curious glance that she couldn’t quite pinpoint. After a lifetime of studying facial expressions in books or on flashcards to try to understand them, Alice still came across unfathomable faces far more often than she liked.

  The man opened his mouth, perhaps to explain, then turned at the low growl of an approaching engine. “Heads up,” he said instead. “Looks like they’re about to take the body away.”

  As the stretcher was wheeled into the office, and a moment later a white-sheeted body was rolled back out, the small group bowed their heads in a collective form of respect. The gesture came so naturally to them Alice was relieved. It meant the principal must have been a well-liked man, after all.

  That thought immediately swallowed her in a gulp of sadness. Alex Dunbar had been well-liked by her, too, and now he was gone.

  Alice bent her head, and her mind filled with the image of the smiling school principal. The man had been so enthusiastic about the colony of bees the first day they’d met. He’d been so gracious after her talk at the school.

  A tear slipped down Alice’s cheek as the hearse engine started up and the vehicle slowly pulled away.

  A day before, she’d harbored the notion she and Alex might grow to become firm friends. Now, his dead body was being driven away to its final resting place.

  Grief rose up in a great wave, crashing over her and pulling her down into a vortex of sadness. Sally was distraught and drinking, a potential friend was dead and gone, Chester was unconscious with a vet poking and prodding about in his small body.

  The law of threes did indeed apply but in a far worse guise than anything Alice could have imagined a few days before. She wiped her eyes dry with the back of her hand, wondering how she could do the same to her troubled heart.

  A half hour later, Alice was once again thinking about leaving and getting back to Chester, when a young policeman walked past, holding firmly onto the wrist of an even younger captive.

  The woman with the missing child turned and ran like the wind. “Michael,” she called out, scooping up her son and spinning him in a circle. “Where have you been?”

  “I found him hiding behind the bike sheds, crouched in the bushes,” the policeman said, grinning. “For some reason, he didn’t want to come out when everyone walked by calling his name.”

  The sergeant looked over with a frown, which changed to a relieved smile when he saw the boy. “Pity you didn’t find him a few minutes earlier,” he said under his breath as the PC walked near. “It could’ve saved us the paperwork.”

  Alice felt her own breath coming easier as the people gathered around the school grounds collectively relaxed. The murder was a shocking and dreadful thing, but the missing child had been far worse. The teachers began to rib each other good-naturedly again and talked about leaving.

  “Are you hanging about here for any reason?” Donnie asked Alice as she cast a glance toward the principal’s office.

  “Just waiting for my friend,” she told him with a smile. “I don’t feel right heading off until I know she’s fully recovered.”

  “Fair enough. We’re heading off now since there’s not much more we can offer.” He stopped for a moment, his lips pursed as he scanned the grounds. “I hope the school opens properly tomorrow. It doesn’t do to give children time to consider these things too deeply.”

  He waved goodbye and hurried off to join his friends, slapping the back of one man dressed in a groundskeeper uniform halfway there. “Are we still on for the retirement drinks t
his Friday?”

  The man scowled at Donnie and shook off his hand. “Don’t be a fool, mate. I’m not retiring.”

  At that, Donnie appeared surprised. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t a joke, I thought there was a celebration coming up. I had an invitation and everything.”

  Trish appeared to understand what was happening and grabbed hold of Donnie’s arm, giving the groundskeeper a sympathetic smile. “Don’t worry, Wallace. I guess Mr. Dunbar didn’t have enough time to update the message.”

  The man seemed about to say something, then shut his mouth and let the scowl from before do the talking. Although he was standing with a rake in his hand, he didn’t seem to be in the middle of a job. Alice wondered if, like the rest of them, he was waiting for the all-clear.

  She checked her phone, just in case it had stopped working correctly and a message from the vets was waiting, unannounced. It hadn’t, and there wasn’t.

  Alice went back to standing with her arms folded, staring at a patch of ground. The grief from before had faded into a more general sense of sadness. It felt like the entire world was paused on a knife edge, waiting. For what, she didn’t know.

  “Did you see Michael arrive at the school?” Sergeant Hogarth asked.

  Alice had been wound so deeply into her own thoughts, she took a moment to reply. “I don’t recall seeing him about when I arrived. But I was just looking for Sally. I tend to get a bit blinkered when I have a task on my mind.”

  “Oh, that’s right.” The sergeant stood beside her for a second, mimicking Alice’s body language. “I forgot you turned up later than the teachers, and then Mrs. Dunbar turned up after that. I’m getting my sequences mixed.”

  “I’m sure you’ll get it all sorted in the end.”

  “Are you waiting around for something?”

  Alice looked up in surprise. “I’m waiting for you to finish questioning Sally. She asked me to leave, but I just wanted to stick around and check once again she was okay.”