Murder in the Apple Orchard

by Sandi Scott

  “That’s not a horrible thing for a husband to do,” Aleta assured Georgie.

  “A husband, no. An ex-husband? It’s a little annoying.”

  “Well, Georgie, when you dress the way you do, you are sort of asking for it,” Aleta laughed. “You can’t begrudge a man who acts like a man.”

  “Thanks for not being on my side.”

  “I can’t help it. I like Stan and I think you guys should get back together. Maybe not get married again, but start slow. Courting.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding. I’d get the feeling he’d be undressing me with his eyes all the time.” Georgie tugged at the collar of her vest, pulling it across her bosom as if she were not comfortable revealing too much skin.

  “Well, it isn’t over until it’s over,” Aleta laughed.

  Just then, two women came stomping past the Kaye sisters.

  “I can’t believe they would do something like that. There are children here.” One woman with a hot pink headband said to her scowling friend who was dressed head to toe in denim.

  “I know. I remember when Halloween used to be a fun holiday. When did it get hijacked by horror?” Denim jacket asked, angrily.

  Georgie took a step towards the woman and was about to speak, when Aleta pulled her back.

  “No, Georgie.”

  “Didn’t you hear what she said? Hijacked by horror? Does she know the history of the holiday?”

  “There is one thing being familiar with kids wearing scary masks to scare away Satan’s minions. It’s another to see gory zombies or killers with chainsaws.”

  “I didn’t see a single chainsaw when we walked in.”

  “No, neither did I, but we haven’t seen the whole place.” Aleta added a few more apples to her bushel.

  “Well, let’s pay for our apples and explore the grounds. I’d like to see the rest of the place, wouldn’t you?”

  Aleta nodded. It was with some skill that they managed to carry three bushels toward the checkout. Aleta carried one basket slung over her left arm while Georgie had another one slung over her right arm. The twins shared the load of the third basket, carrying it between them. As they headed back in the direction of the general store, they heard a scream. Then another and another.

  “What in the world is going on?” Aleta asked.

  “I don’t know, but it’s coming from where that big barn is,” Georgie pointed to the bright red structure that had a crowd quickly growing around it.

  Chapter 3

  “What’s the problem?” Georgie asked, looking around for an injured person, or a fire, or something to explain why there were people gasping and running away, and even crying.

  One teenager nudged his buddy and pointed up.

  “That’s a dummy,” the one boy said.

  “No. It isn’t. Look at the hands,” his friend replied.

  “Whoa! That is a real dude!”

  Georgie and Aleta both looked up to see the body hanging from the peak of the barn. With all the Halloween decorations scattered throughout the orchard, he was certainly easy to miss. As much as Georgie liked a ghoulish décor, even she had to admit a man hanging from a noose was a little on the morbid side for the orchard.

  Within minutes, the chugging of a cherry picker could be heard as it approached the barn. A man in blue jeans and an Apple Harvest Orchard sweatshirt was steering it using the joystick on a panel in the basket he was riding in. The basket was on a long arm that could stretch up almost thirty-five feet in the air.

  Carefully, the machine was maneuvered under the body. Slowly, the accordion-style arm stretched up towards the hanging body. The man could be heard gasping and then choking as he struggled to cut the body loose. Gravity pulled it into the basket with the man, and the body dropped with a sickening thud.

  By this time sirens were fast approaching from the road Georgie and Aleta had driven down.

  “This is the kind of stuff that happens on television,” Georgie whispered. By this time, many of the people who had come to the orchard for a day of fun were quickly darting off to their cars, leaving their bushels of apples, or pumpkins, or gourds behind. Even the two boys, who were, at first, morbidly interested, had opted to join their family, quickly explained what seemed to be happening and followed their mothers back towards the parking lot.

  As the cherry picker maneuvered to a safe area away from the remaining visitors, a dozen people in Apple Harvest Orchard shirts came running from several directions. Most of them had walkie-talkies, having probably been stationed at various places on the property to assist visitors. Now, they were all collected near the barn, none of them talking but instead just looking on in shock.

  “I wonder how long he’d been up there?” Aleta asked.

  “Oh man, I hadn’t even thought of that. It could be a lot more gruesome than we realized,” Georgie said as she inched her way closer to the action.

  “You are going to try and look, aren’t you?”

  “Aleta, a man hung himself in a very public place. Most people who really want to off themselves do it privately. This guy was sending a message, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah, a message that he didn’t want to live anymore.” Aleta was ready to be on their way to the General Store.

  “I think it was a little more than that.”

  “I hate to say it, Georgie, but people want attention for doing the most ridiculous things. Why should suicide be any different? He probably documented everything leading up to the actual hanging. I’d put my money on a broken heart. Someone broke-up with him and he saw no reason to go on. That happens a lot.”

  “You could be right,” Georgie nodded. “Wait here. I’m going to inch my way up and see what I can hear.”

  “You’re going to see what you can hear?”

  “You know what I mean,” Georgie shushed and slowly, but expertly, inched her way almost into the inner circle of employees that were around the body that had been carefully laid on the ground by the man operating the machine. Only one woman was crying. She was an older lady about Georgie’s age. The rest looked like they were in shock.

  Looking at the face of the person pulled from the peak of the barn, Georgie guessed he hadn’t been there too long. There were no bug bites that she could see, and even though he was up high, ants might have found him. Plus, his clothes were clean, except for some dirt around the elbows and shoulders. But, if he did this himself, he probably got a little dusty getting up to the peak of the barn.

  His face was blue and swollen. His lips jutted out like he’d gone a couple rounds with a heavyweight fighter. Sadly, his eyes were bulging open, staring off into forever, seeing nothing of the pain of the people around him. What he was seeing now Georgie shuddered to think.

  Shutting off the part of her that thought of her own children at times like this, Georgie tried to focus on anything that might shed some light on the situation.

  The rope was a regular rope found in every barn in America. He had scratches on his neck. Georgie couldn’t tell if they were from the rope or something else, but she made a mental note of them.

  “How could he do this?” one woman whispered.

  “I don’t know,” another replied.

  “Has anyone contacted Xabat or Charlotte?” another man asked.

  “I just called the police,” one girl replied.

  “I don’t think I can do it,” a man standing next to her said.

  “Mike, maybe you should do it,” a woman suggested, looking at the man who’d just cut down the body.”

  “I don’t think I can.”

  Good for you, Mike. Georgie thought, reasoning it would hardly be fair that he had to call someone and let them know about this nightmare.

  “I’ll do it, Mike,” a handsome woman with short black hair and weathered skin patted him on the shoulder, pulled out her cell phone, and walked away from the group. It was obvious, from her body language, that she was having a hard time relaying the message. Georgie felt bad for her and casually s
huffled her way back to Aleta.

  “Did you hear anything?”

  “Not really. These people all liked whoever this fellow was. They are all in a state of shock,” Georgie said, just as a slew of police cars pulled up along with an ambulance. It was a little too late for that.

  Before long, the officers had thinned out the crowd. Most of the police were questioning the employees, including the man who cut the poor fellow down, a few bystanders who first noticed the gruesome decoration, and a couple of people who watched the event unfold.

  Georgie looked around the area. The pumpkins and spider and ghost decorations looked depressing after all this. The gloomy sky added to the heaviness of the situation. Funny that the sound of tractors in the distance, and maybe a couple of cawing crows, was all she could hear. People were talking. Some were crying. But other than that, she was sure she could hear a needle falling in a haystack.

  “This is going to be tough,” Georgie leaned over to Aleta. “This place is how many acres long? There could be clues anywhere.”

  “You’re saying that like you believe it’s a murder and not a suicide,” Aleta mumbled, so as not to be overheard. “What makes you think it was foul play?”

  “A couple of things are suspicious. But, that over there, is a dead giveaway,” she pointed to a familiar figure that was slowly approaching.

  “It’s funny how you and Stan keep finding each other in the strangest places,” Aleta tilted her head to the left and folded her arms across her chest.

  “That didn’t take long,” Georgie said, and then pinched her lips together and looked her ex-husband up and down, shaking her head in disbelief. “Since when does your precinct cover this suburb?”

  “I should have known I’d find you two here,” Stan said, as he stepped up to give his ex-sister-in-law a peck on the cheek. “Aleta, you look like you’re ready for some cooler weather.”

  “I wasn’t ready for this,” she said, pointing to the body and then patting him on the shoulder.

  “And Georgie, you’re looking lovely as usual.”

  That was it? Usually Georgie got some kind of double entendre or at least a look loaded with desire from her ex-husband. But this was all business. Georgie wasn’t sure she liked this new type of greeting from Stan.

  “As for why I’m here,” Stan continued without missing a beat, “The sheriff’s department at this end of the county paired up with my precinct as sort of a sister-precinct for some of the more intricate crimes. Or when half the staff is off on vacation, like they are now.”

  “Stanley? Do you mind if I get started?” a female voice came from behind the trio. “I don’t want to get in your way like on the Hollis case.”

  Stan chuckled and blushed for a moment.

  Georgie was not amused.

  Chapter 4

  “Before you get started, Maggie, come here for a second,” Stan said, smiling more at Aleta and avoiding Georgie’s curious gaze.

  “Yeah?” the woman who joined them chirped happily, flipping her shoulder length brown hair behind her. It was streaked with silver and she wore almost no make-up. Her cheekbones were high and her brown eyes twinkled.

  “Maggie, this is my sister-in-law Aleta Kaye. Aleta, this is Maggie Hoffentop.”

  “Hi. It’s nice to meet you,” Aleta replied politely as she sized the woman up.

  “And this is Georgie, my ex-wife,” Stan said, flatly.

  “Hello,” Maggie said extending her hand to Georgie.

  “Hi, Maggie. Nice to meet you,” Georgie accepted her hand, pleasantly.

  “She’s the new crime scene photographer. She’s shadowing me on a couple of cases while she gets used to how we do things at the Ninety-Sixth.”

  “Really?” Aleta said, sensing her sister’s uneasiness.

  “So far it’s been quite a ride. But Stanley’s very patient as I learn the ropes. It’s not exactly what I expected when I got my degree in art, but it pays the bills,” Maggie smiled.

  “Georgie is an artist, too,” Stan said, making Georgie’s blood boil. “She paints pet portraits.”

  “How cute,” Maggie added. Even Aleta had to roll her eyes. What was Stan doing? Didn’t he see this going south right off the bat? “Where did you go to school?”

  “I’m self taught,” Georgie said. “I was too busy raising our three children when Stan left to dig for gold to go to college.”

  “Stan. I think one of your officers is looking for you,” Aleta pointed at a random couple of uniformed policemen and smiled.

  “Oh, okay. Well, I better... I mean we better get back to work,” he looked at Georgie and raised one eyebrow quizzically. “We’ll talk later... right?”

  Georgie smiled but said nothing. Maggie, perhaps sensing the tension that had suddenly come up and had nothing to do with the dead body, nodded and left with Stan.

  “Take it easy,” Aleta said, slipping her arm through Georgie’s.

  “Can you believe that?” Georgie hissed.

  “They just work together, Georgie. It just means they work together.”

  “Really? How cute. Where did you go to school? And Stan telling her I paint pet portraits.”

  “Well, Georgie, that is what you do.”

  “Aleta don’t tell me you didn’t hear the condescension in his voice. Didn’t you hear it? Because I heard it and I’m not prone to hearing things.”

  “Okay, maybe just a little, but that woman is going to have an extremely tough act to follow if she’s going to try and date your ex-husband.”

  “Do you think they are dating? Who does that? Who dates people they work with?” Georgie clenched her jaws. “And did you see that handshake? Limp. Like holding on to a dead fish. She’s probably one of those Earth-mother types who talks to trees and gets mad at kids for taking rocks or feathers as souvenirs from a nature preserve. You know the type.”

  “I do and you might be right. Or...” Aleta said carefully.

  “Or what?”

  “Or she might be a nice lady that Stan is attracted to. As his first and only true love, you should be happy for him.”

  “How could he be attracted to her?”

  “I don’t know, Georgie, some people like spinach. But it was pretty obvious from the way he was behaving that there was something going on between them. Maybe not a full-on romance, but an interest, for sure.”

  “This is too much. Come on. Let’s get a closer look at that body.”

  Stan stood looking at the body the staff had laid out a few feet from the barn entrance. Maggie had disappeared inside the barn in order to get pictures of the steps, the inside, and the remaining ends of the rope.

  Georgie was careful not to stand too close to Stan. She didn’t want to seem clingy, or even remotely interested in him or his weird photographer friend. In fact, she would have preferred that Aleta take the reins on this one and ask all the questions, but that wasn’t going to happen.

  “So, who is he?” Georgie asked Stan. Her words felt like blocks of wood in her mouth, and she couldn’t even be sure it was her voice that was speaking.

  “His name was Tony Beaumont,” Stan rubbed his stubbly chin. “He was the fiancé of Veronica Slute, daughter of Xabat and Charlotte Slute. They own this orchard.”

  “Oh no,” Georgie felt bad. She couldn’t tell how old the man was since the hanging had altered his features. But judging by his hands, she didn’t think he could have been that old. “Have the future in-laws seen this yet?”

  “No. Not yet. According to the staff they’ve been notified. Xabat was out in the orchard and Mrs. Slute was at the house doing paperwork. They’re on their way.”

  “What do you think?” Georgie asked, watching her ex-husband’s expression. When he turned to her, he smiled. It was a weird smile that held no lustful longings and no smart-ass remarks. It was like a pod person had replaced him.

  “Georgie, I think you should know that Maggie and I...”

  “Are getting married? Great. Now, I’d like to know you
r thoughts about poor Mr. Beaumont here,” she snapped, without missing a beat.

  “No! What? Are you crazy? No, we aren’t getting married. Come on Georgie. You go from zero to eighty in two seconds, making it impossible to talk to you.”

  “Yeah, well, at least when you want to talk to me, I don’t just head off for the Rocky Mountains with a pick, an ax and a gold sifting pan.” Her words were like daggers.

  “See, I wanted to do the right thing, but there you go. You’re going to punish me for leaving you. I get it. But I’ve been back from California for a long time. I’ve made my intentions clear and you’ve said no. What am I supposed to do, Georgie?” he shifted from one leg to the other. He was wearing his prospecting cowboy boots and faded jeans that fit him just right.

  Looking him up and down, Georgie grumbled to herself, realizing that she wasn’t being reasonable. It wasn’t her fault that she was behaving this way; it was something about Stan’s blue eyes, so big and beautiful. “Stan, it doesn’t matter. Whatever you are doing is between you and her. I’m not part of it.”

  “Georgie, of course you are. You’re the mother of my beautiful children. We’ve spent so much of our life together.”

  “And just enough of it apart to know that works better.” Georgie was furious. She wanted to make a scene there and air all of Stan’s dirty laundry, but what good would that do? It would just make for an awkward situation that was much worse. As petty as it sounded, he brought this on them, not her. She didn’t want to be to blamed for any of this argument if she could help it.

  “Maggie and I have gone out a couple times. Nothing serious. Just two people enjoying each other’s company.” He shook his head and looked down at the ground. “I just thought you should know. That’s one thing, Georgie. I’ve never lied to you in all the time we’ve been together, or apart. I don’t ever plan on starting.”

  “Fine. So tell me, Honest Abe, what do you think happened here?”

  “I think there was a death,” Stan ground out.

  Before Georgie could think up a smart come back, Maggie emerged from the barn.