Peppermint Breath & an Untimely Death

by Willow Monroe

  “It looked like it was made of wool. And he was wearing a ski mask as well,” I added. I’d forgotten all about the dark glasses.

  “Was he carrying a gun?” he asked.

  Well, you would think that would be something you’d notice but for the life of me, I couldn’t remember what he was doing with his hands. Poppy and I looked at each other. If he was carrying a gun, I hadn’t noticed.

  Both of us shook our heads.

  He rubbed his square chin thoughtfully. “We’ve searched the area looking for shell casings but we came up with nothing. We’ll search again.”

  “So, we followed the trail he’d made in the snow until it veered off the path and into the woods,” Poppy explained.

  “Starla, I’ll bet you were the one who wanted to find out where it led,” Tucker said, flashing that teasing smile at me.

  “Of course. She’s as nosy as she always was,” Poppy told him.

  Then she explained how we’d gone through the trees until we came to where his footprints ended at a tree just outside of the clearing.

  “You know, the one where kids used to go to make out,” Poppy giggled.

  “I know the place,” he said, quickly looking down at the note pad in his hand.

  “And that’s where we found Mr. Nettle,” I finished. “It looked like he was trying to make a snow angel.”

  “He was probably shot from right there,” he mused and then asked. “There was no one else around?”

  “Not until I spotted those boys playing in the woods,” I said. “That was after the police got there.”

  He nodded. “Yeah. I heard about that. Talking to them next.”

  “Who would do such a thing?” Poppy asked, looking from one of us to the other.

  “More importantly, why? And why was Mr. Nettle out there in the park in the middle of a snow storm?” Tucker asked.

  “A man of his age should have been home in front of the fire,” Poppy agreed.

  “When did you see him last?” Tucker asked. “I mean before the park today.”

  “He was in the diner this morning,” I told him. “That in itself was unusual, especially in this weather. He gets tired easily and some days he just leaves the mail wherever he happens to be and we have to go pick it up.”

  Too late, I remembered to speak of Mr. Nettle in past tense.

  Tucker shook his head and chuckled. “How I miss living in a small town.”

  Poppy and I both agreed. Not that we’d lived anywhere else or wanted to, but we knew Sugar Hill was a tiny town where things were pretty unlikely to change no matter what happened.

  “Did you notice him acting any different this morning?” Tucker asked. “Who did he talk to?”

  Again, I had to think back on the morning. “The breakfast rush was almost over. We talked about his son, Adam.”

  “He’s a lawyer in Atlanta, right?”

  We both nodded.

  “I’ll have to give him a call later. He might have some insight,” Tucker mused, making a note.

  “I doubt it. He hardly ever comes to see his dad. I understand he’s remarried and started a new family.”

  “Helen Taylor,” Poppy said, snapping her fingers.

  “Yeah, that’s right,” I said, remembering. “He offered to help her to her car and then she said she was going for a walk downtown, he offered to walk with her just in case she needed some help.”

  “And then she decided to go on home after all,” Poppy put in.

  “Maybe a little bit sweet on a younger chick?” Tucker mused, standing up and reaching for the hat he’d placed on the end of the coffee table.

  “Helen Taylor is still married to Robert, the insurance guy,” I reminded him.

  “You never know. Maybe she’s stepping out...”

  “Tucker, shut up,” I said, laughing.

  “She’s probably twenty years younger, maybe early sixties... Maybe she likes older men.”

  “Shut up.” I punched him playfully in the shoulder, all of us laughing by that time.

  “It’s been good seeing you ladies, but now I have to go to work,” he said, pulling me into a warm hug.

  I hugged him back. Closing my eyes, I inhaled his clean scent and suddenly I was fifteen years old again, safe in Tucker’s arms.

  “I’ll come by in the morning for one of those pumpkin spice cupcakes I’ve heard about,” Tucker said, as he turned to leave.

  “You won’t be sorry,” Poppy told him. “Melt in your mouth yumminess.”

  “Are you driving back to Harrisonburg tonight?” I asked, glancing out the window. I was sure another six inches of snow had been dumped on the area, just since this morning.

  “Nah, staying here in town until I get this solved.”

  “With your mom?” I asked and felt a little twinge of guilt. Tucker’s mom had been like a second mother to me growing up and I had been pretty lax about visiting her. In fact, I probably hadn’t seen her in a year.

  “I’m staying at the Rebel’s Roost, out on the highway. Mom, has, well, company.”

  “Company?”

  “As in a boyfriend. I didn’t want to cramp her style,” he explained. Then he laughed, winked at us and jogged down the steps.

  I watched him until he opened the back door and disappeared into the snow storm and then I closed the door quietly. “Speaking of yumminess,” I said to Poppy.

  “Wow, did he grow up or what?” she asked.

  “I know. Can you believe it?”

  Pushing my feet into slippers, I went downstairs to see what was happening at the diner, which was absolutely nothing. I told Barbara Ellen to go home. She’d already sent everyone else home. I changed the sign on the door to CLOSED even though it was really just late afternoon. The streetlights were already coming on. More snow was forecast for the area and with dark, gloomy skies overhead, I found that easy to believe.

  “Can I crash here tonight?” Poppy asked when I came back upstairs.

  “Of course,” I told her, wondering why she would even ask.

  “Tom says the roads are treacherous but he was willing to come and get me. I told him to stay put and that I’d stay here with you,” Poppy explained.

  In the end, we made homemade pizza, watched a movie, and talked about growing up in Sugar Hill with Tucker and the other kids from our neighborhood. Most of them were scattered all over the country. While the storm raged outside the windows, the wind sounding so fierce, we made a game out of trying to find them. We even went as far as looking on Facebook but we barely found half of them.

  “That’s kind of sad,” I said, finally giving up.

  “And we wouldn’t have found Tucker if he wasn’t here investigating Mr. Nettle’s murder,” Poppy reminded me.

  “You’re right.” I didn’t bother Googling his name. “I wonder if there’s a Mrs. Ashe?” I asked as we settled down for the night.

  “I didn’t see a ring but that doesn’t mean anything,” Poppy answered, sounding drowsy.

  I didn’t answer, already drifting off to sleep feeling safe knowing that Tucker was keeping an eye on us.

  Chapter Six

  The next morning Poppy and I opened the diner early, even though there were no customers. We sipped coffee and shared cupcakes and talked to Gladys, who braved the snow to come to work even though I told her to stay home.

  Finally, the regulars began trickling in. Tom Brown, of course, had to check on Poppy, even though they’d already talked to each other several times that morning. As if I would let something happen to my best friend. Mayor Gillespie held the door for Eva and Anna Lord, then Tiffany, and then took his usual seat at the end of the counter. He looked tired.

  Poppy was already giving Tom’s order to Gladys.

  I poured the Mayor’s coffee and then headed for the booth where the sisters and Tiffany sat. They rarely ate anything and drank only herbal tea. Sometimes I think they came in just to torment me.

  I really needed to let this go.

  But it’s ha
rd to let it go, especially with Tiffany beaming up at me when I took her order. “Are you entering the baking contest this year for the Winter Festival?”

  “I am,” I assured her.

  “So are we,” she said, reaching across the table to squeeze Anna and Eva’s hands. The two sisters were as pale as ghosts and I wondered if they’d ever eaten bacon. “Sort of a group entry.”

  “Great. Well, good luck,” I said and started to turn away.

  “You’re the one who is going to need luck,” Tiffany said.

  Yeah, that was definitely a challenge.

  “Oh, yeah?” I countered, one hand on my hip, a sure sign of irritation.

  “Yes, we’re taking decorating lessons from Sylvia Shatner in Harrisonburg,” Anna said, looking pretty proud of herself.

  Sylvia of Sylvia’s Sweets was known all over the area for her outlandish cake decorating skills. She made a cake for someone’s July wedding that actually had firecrackers exploding out of an elaborate motorized device that was attached to the cake.

  “You’re going to need those lessons,” I said, sounding much more confident than I felt as I looked at each of them in turn.

  There, I’d thrown down the gauntlet, practically challenged them to a cupcake duel.

  Turning on my heel, feeling pretty proud of myself, I smacked right into what felt like a brick wall.

  “Mornin’, Sunshine,” Tucker said. He steadied me with both hands on my shoulders and grinned.

  “Good morning,” I said, truly happy to see him. “You’re out early.”

  “Got a murder to solve,” he said, sliding easily onto a stool at the counter.

  He nodded at Mayor Gillespie, a few stools away. The Mayor nodded back.

  “You’re going to need a big breakfast. Keep your energy up,” I said, handing him a menu.

  “And coffee. Lots of coffee,” he added.

  “Coming up.”

  I was surprised at how good it felt to have Tucker around again after all these years. That feeling of security settled over me again.

  “My first order of business is to buy a coffee pot for the police station.”

  “They don’t have one?” I gasped.

  He shook his head. “And if I’m going to be working out of there, we have to have coffee!”

  “Amen to that.”

  Charlie Rush and the VDOT crew showed up right after that, stomping snow off their feet and pulling off hats and gloves once they were inside. There were four of them and it was obvious they had been up all night plowing snow from the roads so people could get to work.

  “Schools closed again today?” I asked as I guided them to a round table where they could all spread out and relax.

  “Yep,” Charlie said. “They’re asking everyone to stay off the roads as much as possible.”

  Poppy was right behind me with a heavy white mug and a menu for each of them and I dashed off to the kitchen to get a coffee pot.

  “I’ll get a fresh pot going,” Gladys told me and I smiled my thanks.

  “It’s the cold that gets to this old man,” Charlie told me when I filled his cup. He wrapped both hands around it and took a deep breath.

  “Don’t let that gray hair fool you,” one of the other men said with a shake of his head. “That old man can drive better than all of us.”

  They all roared with laughter at that.

  “Listen, you guys order whatever you want from the menu. It’s on the house.”

  “Why thank you, Miss Starla,” Charlie said. “We ‘preciate it.”

  “And when you’re done, bring your thermoses in and I’ll fill them up,” I added, knowing they had already plowed the small parking lot beside the diner for me. They’d probably already plowed the lot the police station shared with the historical society and the Mayor’s office, too.

  I left them studying the menu and returned to fill the mayor’s cup.

  “I swear Charlie was old when we were kids,” Tucker commented when I filled his cup. “I don’t think he even recognized me.”

  “I know, he’s like the Energizer Bunny.” I laughed. “And you’ve been gone a long time,” I reminded him.

  “Good morning, Doll-face.” That was Joe Wheeler. He blew me a kiss before settling onto the stool beside Mayor Gillespie. Today, even he was wearing a hat and gloves.

  “Good morning,” I said, placing a mug in front of him.

  “I moved down here to get away from the winters up north,” he said, slapping the Mayor on the shoulder. “It’s sixty degrees in Jersey.

  Mayor Gillespie smiled and fiddled with his tie, something he always does when he’s nervous. I assumed he had a lot on his mind, was worried about the weather and the murder and the upcoming Winter Festival. Oh, he had help with the preparations for that but, in the end, the Community Trust and the Winter Festival was his baby. Lots of things happening in his little town.

  I vaguely wondered whose idea it was to turn the baking contest into a decorating contest. But I wasn’t about to bring that up now.

  Joe seemed to be humming with nervous energy as well. Murder was news and he was, first and foremost, a newspaper man. Unfortunately, what had happened to Mr. Nettle was going to give Joe a chance to shine and maybe even put the Sugar Hill Herald on the map.

  I filled his cup, very aware of his flirty eyes watching me move around the diner as I took the order and then placed Tucker’s food in front of him.

  “Doll-face?” he whispered.

  Cheeks reddening, not wanting to explain, I just shrugged and hurried off to check to make sure no one needed anything. Eva, Anna and Tiffany were putting their coats on and heading for the register. I was glad to see them go. Many of the regulars had not made it out that morning so things were quieter than usual. I made a mental note to check on Mrs. Blake later in the day, to make sure she was okay.

  Poppy helped me carry two trays laden with food for the road crew.

  “Miss Gladys has outdone herself this morning,” Charlie remarked. “Tell her I said so.”

  “I heard you, you old coot,” Gladys shouted from the little cubby where she placed the finished orders. Then she waved a spatula at him for good measure.

  Everyone in the diner laughed aloud.

  We were still giggling when Joe said, “So, I heard they’re bringing in the state police to investigate the shooting.”

  Mayor Gillespie visibly winced.

  I nodded and pointed toward Tucker.

  “Tucker Ashe,” Tucker said, meeting Joe halfway with a handshake. “Detective for the Virginia State Police.”

  “Joe Wheeler. I own the Sugar Hill Herald,” he said.

  “Nice to meet you,” Tucker said and shot a quick glance at me.

  “And I see you’ve found the best place in town to eat,” Joe said, reaching for my hand. He caught it and intertwined his fingers with mine giving me a hot look. “Sweetest lady I’ve ever met.”

  “Yes, she is. Starla and I grew up together,” Tucker explained.

  “Oh, so you’re a home town boy.”

  “That I am.”

  “I would have thought they would have brought someone more experienced in to handle this case,” Joe said. “I mean a sniper type shooting could mean the whole town is in danger.”

  Was that a challenge?

  Tucker didn’t seem to think so. His big, country boy grin just grew even wider. “Well, I’m gonna do the best I can to get to the bottom of this but I doubt it was a sniper,” he said.

  “How so?” Joe asked, appearing to be genuinely interested.

  “A sniper would have used a different kind of weapon and Miss Starla and Miss Poppy probably wouldn’t be here this morning.”

  Was that slow southern drawl just a little more pronounced in that last statement? I could imagine Tucker using that to his advantage.

  “So you’re thinking it was an accident?”

  “No accident, but it was personal,” Tucker said with a grin. “I’ll know more after I talk to the cor
oner this morning and look over his report.”

  “Well, keep me in the loop. I want to make sure to cover everything,” Joe said.

  “Oh, Lord!” Mayor Gillespie was suddenly on his feet dodging the hot coffee that spilled from the cup he had turned over. I grabbed dry towels and scooped up most of it up while getting his almost empty plate out of the way.

  “Are you okay?” Poppy asked mopping up what coffee had spilled on the floor.

  “Yes, sorry about that,” the mayor stammered. “Just slipped out of my hand.”

  “Here’s a fresh cup,” I offered, watching Poppy check out the mayor’s red and blue striped tie and pristine white shirt.

  “That’s okay,” he said, waving us off. “I need to get to the office anyway.”

  Poppy took his receipt and his money and waved as he went out the door.

  “You be careful,” I said and followed him to the door.

  He left with barely just a nod. I stood at the door and watched him pick his way down the icy sidewalk, moving slower than usual. Our mayor had a lot on his plate all of a sudden and I felt kind of sorry for him.

  The skies overhead were a watery looking gray with no sunshine in sight and I hugged myself. Hopefully, the weather would break before the Winter Festival. We were all used to the snow and cold in winter but it would be nice to at least have sunshine for the celebration.

  “Dinner and dancing as soon as this storm passes,” Joe said, his hot breath on my ear. “I promise.”

  I smiled at our reflection in the glass door and leaned back against him. He slid one hand around my waist and pulled me a little closer.

  “All the storms,” I said, my mind still on the mayor and Mr. Nettle.

  Joe chuckled, kissed my ear and pushed the door open. “I’ll check in with you later today,” he promised and then he was gone.

  “Cozy,” Tucker teased when I returned to the counter.

  “You didn’t expect me to sit around here waiting on you, did you?” I asked and began clearing the dirty dishes off the counter.

  “No, ma’am. But a northerner? What would your mama say?”

  Poppy burst into laughter. She had said the exact same thing to me the day before.

  Tucker began laughing as well.