Murder Most Wholesome

by Staci McLaughlin

  “Wow, Zennia, how cool that you and Birch have reunited after all this time,” I said, as we watched the van drive out of the lot. “It’s like something out of a Hallmark movie.”

  Zennia blinked rapidly, as if trying to bring her mind back to the present. “I returned to the commune after a brief time away, and the members told me Birch had also left. I figured he’d moved to India to study further enlightenment. I can’t believe he’s been living one state away this whole time.”

  I laid a hand on her arm. “You’ve got plenty of time to make up for those lost years. No reason you two can’t pick up where you left off.” I could practically hear the violin music swelling in the soundtrack of my imaginary movie as the two lovers became inseparable once more.

  “I’m not sure I want to,” Zennia said softly.

  The music in my head screeched to a halt. “What? But I thought he was your one true love.”

  “Sure, that’s what we called each other at the time, but that was twenty-five years ago. I was young and in love, wooed by an older man. When I went back to the commune, only to find out he was no longer there, I was heartbroken, of course, but I moved on. I imagine he has too, even if he is back at the commune.”

  Twenty-five years? I was barely out of diapers when all this happened. “I didn’t realize communes even existed these days,” I said. “Where is it?”

  “There are dozens of communes around the country. This one is about an hour from here, deep in the redwoods. The location is a former logging camp.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Only an hour away? Why haven’t I heard of it?”

  A mysterious smile appeared on Zennia’s face, reminding me of the Mona Lisa. “Those searching for the sanctuary of the commune are able to find it. As for the others, the commune prefers not to advertise its existence.”

  Zennia made it sound like a modern-day Shangri-la. I felt the urge to get in my car and drive around searching for the place to see what was so special about it.

  “You never went back later, even to visit?” I asked.

  “No. I occasionally see one or two of the women at the farmers market here, although lately the newer residents have taken over running the booth. As for the commune itself, once I learned Birch left after I did, I saw no reason to return. While I still keep the ideals of the commune close to my heart, my home is in Blossom Valley.”

  “And I, for one, am glad we have you,” I said. “Esther’s place wouldn’t be the same without all your healthy dishes.” While I didn’t always love Zennia’s meals, with her emphasis on vegetables, tofu, and limited fats, I knew the guests appreciated her efforts. And she loved having an impact on other people’s health.

  “Thank you, Dana.” She pulled her car keys from her pocket. “Now I’d better get home and get these vegetables out of the hot car, or all that spinach will wilt.”

  “Good idea,” I said. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “I have an early breakfast scheduled with a friend, but I should be at the farm by the time you start work. Have a good night.”

  I headed to my aging red Civic, unlocked the door, and placed my bag of fruit and cheese in the passenger seat. Before I started the car, I checked my phone and saw that Jason had texted to see if we were still having dinner at my apartment tonight.

  I’d met Jason when he’d reported on a murder at Esther’s farm for the Blossom Valley Herald, where he worked. At first, he’d been a little too pushy for my taste, but after spending time with him, I’d come to realize that he was simply a dedicated newsman. I’d also realized he was an even more dedicated boyfriend.

  I confirmed our dinner plans, put the phone away, and drove home, thinking about Zennia and Birch, the story of two star-crossed lovers. If only Zennia had never left the commune, or if Birch had stayed put and awaited Zennia’s potential return, they might still be together. Instead of feeding guests at Esther’s farm, Zennia might be spending her days feeding a bevy of children with food she and Birch grew themselves.

  Ten minutes later, I pulled into my parking spot at the Orchard Village apartments and carried my bag up the outside stairs to my apartment. I tried the knob and found the door unlocked.

  I started mumbling under my breath about my younger sister Ashlee’s naïve attitude. Sure, Blossom Valley’s crime rate was ridiculously low, but still, people were occasionally robbed or murdered around here. It wasn’t all date nights and makeup parties, like Ashlee seemed to think.

  Inside the apartment, Ashlee sat on the couch, wearing pink pajama shorts and a white T-shirt. She had one bare foot propped up on the coffee table as she applied a coat of bright pink polish to her toenails. Chunks of her long blond hair, three shades lighter than mine, threatened to slip out of her ponytail and onto her handiwork.

  Near the table, a dozen shoe boxes littered the floor. Some were missing their lids, while others lay on their sides, with shoes spilling out.

  “What’s all this?” I asked as I headed into the kitchen area to put away my groceries.

  “You know that store, It’s a Shoe In? It’s going out of business. Everything’s on sale.”

  I finished putting my food away and stowed my folded shopping bag next to the fridge before joining Ashlee in the living room. “Did you decide to buy the whole store?”

  She fanned her toenails with her hand. “As if. But I needed sandals, and I couldn’t decide what color I wanted. And then I saw the cutest pair of wedge heels, which led me to the boots, and before I knew it, I bought all these.”

  I surveyed the wreckage that was strewn across the carpet. “I bet you’ll never wear half of these.”

  “Yes, I will. In fact, I’m wearing one pair of sandals tonight, which is why I’m painting my toenails. Jasper won’t know what hit him.” She propped her other foot on the table and dipped the brush in the nail polish.

  “Jasper? Is this a new guy?”

  “Yep. Met him at the movie theater.”

  I sat down on the other end of the couch, earning a sharp look from Ashlee as I jostled her. “What happened to Zack?”

  “We’re done. He started talking about commitment and not seeing other people, and I had to bail.”

  All this talk about Ashlee’s many boyfriends reminded me that I was supposed to be getting dinner ready. “Jason will be over in a little while.”

  “See, that’s what I’m talking about. Where’s the thrill? Don’t you get tired of seeing the same guy all the time?” She waved her hand around as she talked, and the polish brush came dangerously close to my nose.

  I pulled my head back. “Actually, I like it. A lot. Wouldn’t kill you to settle down yourself. For longer than a month anyway.”

  Ashlee scrunched up her nose like last week’s half-eaten bologna sandwich was still sitting in the trash. “Talk about boring.”

  “But what about true love?” I asked. “Zennia ran into a guy she hasn’t seen in twenty-five years at the farmers market today. You should have seen the look on that guy’s face. He was thrilled.”

  Ashlee bent over another nail. “What about Zennia? Was she as happy to see him?”

  I thought of the way Zennia shifted away from Birch. “She was definitely surprised, but pleased.”

  “I bet she was just being nice to the guy.”

  I stood. “We’ll see. She and Birch might fall in love all over again.”

  Ashlee snorted. “What kind of name is Birch?”

  “One his mother was apparently fond of.” I headed toward my room. “I need to clean up and get dinner ready.”

  I took a quick shower and dried my hair before donning a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved, light blue top that matched my eyes. When I came out, Ashlee was no longer on the couch, and her bedroom door was closed. I went into the kitchen and searched the cupboards for the box of Hamburger Helper I’d bought earlier in the week, then grabbed the ground beef out of the fridge. Nothing like a home-cooked meal.

  While the meat was browning, I washed and tore up let
tuce for a salad and preheated the oven to bake a frozen loaf of garlic bread. For a second, I almost felt like Julia Child, if Julia Child had used a lot of prepackaged processed foods in her cooking.

  A few minutes later, Ashlee came out of her bedroom in a pair of sandals, a denim skirt, and a blouse cut so low that I half expected to see her belly button. She entered the kitchen and spun around. “How do I look?”

  “I don’t think Jasper is going to notice your nail polish.”

  Ashlee studied her feet. “Because my new sandals are so awesome?”

  “Yeah, that’s it,” I lied. If Ashlee wanted to parade around town with her ta-tas hanging out, who was I to stop her?

  Someone knocked on the door. Ashlee beat me across the room and swung the door open like she was expecting a representative from the Publishers Clearing House Sweepstakes to be standing there with an oversized cardboard check. Instead, Jason waited on the doorstep in jeans and a dark gray Henley shirt.

  “Well, if it isn’t Mr. Forrester, the famous newsman,” Ashlee said with a wink. She stepped aside to let him in.

  He moved past her with a quick “Hi, Ashlee.” I had to give him credit—his eyes never once strayed below her chin.

  “Hey, gorgeous,” he said to me. He enveloped me in a hug. The short hairs of his reddish-brown goatee tickled my forehead as I inhaled the spicy scent of his cologne. I was tempted to stand in his embrace all night, but my stomach suddenly growled.

  Jason laughed and let me go. His warm green eyes sparkled. “Did you swallow a monster?”

  I clapped a hand over my belly. “Guess I’d better feed that thing before it attacks.” I remembered the hamburger was still cooking on the stove and dashed into the kitchen. I grabbed the spatula and rapidly stirred the meat. “I hope you like your Hamburger Helper well done,” I called over my shoulder.

  “Better than raw. Need any help?”

  I scanned the directions on the back of the box and started adding the rest of the ingredients. “Nope, but thanks.” I placed the garlic bread in the oven, set the timer, and grabbed two beers from the fridge. As I made my way to the couch, Ashlee plopped in a chair at the kitchen table and started texting. Jason settled down next to me, and I handed him a beer. “How was work?”

  “Slow. The gas station outside of town got robbed last night, but that’s the only big news. And Mrs. Garrenson was cited for disturbing the peace when she ran through her neighborhood screaming about her lost poodle. She swears it was an alien abduction this time.”

  “Didn’t she blame aliens last time her dog ran away?” I asked.

  “No, that was a cosmetics company conducting experiments.”

  “Right. How could I forget?”

  Ashlee exhaled loudly from her spot at the table. “What good is being a newsman if nothing exciting ever happens around here?”

  “People love the news, no matter how small,” Jason said.

  The timer dinged. I set my beer down and went to the kitchen area to pull the garlic bread from the oven. Jason came over and sliced the bread while I dressed the salad and loaded our plates.

  As we carried our food to the kitchen table, Ashlee jumped up and went into her room. I’d seen her prep for enough dates to know she was touching up her makeup and making sure every last blond hair was in the correct place. Maybe she’d find the rest of her blouse while she was in there.

  “Alone at last,” I said to Jason as I draped my napkin in my lap. I picked up my fork and speared a noodle.

  Jason took a swig of beer. “Anything exciting happen at the farm today?”

  “Updated the Web site, tweeted about Esther’s latest composting class, and cleaned out the pigsty. You know, the usual.”

  “And how is Wilbur?” Jason gave me a devilish smile that brought out his dimples. “Is that pig ready to be someone’s ham hocks and bacon?”

  I dropped my fork and covered my ears in mock horror. “No, don’t even say that! You know how much Esther loves that pig.” I put my hands down. “But that reminds me. Something interesting did happen at the farmers market. Zennia and I went there after work today, and guess what?”

  “You ate a vegetable and liked it?”

  I grimaced. “Don’t be ridiculous. An old boyfriend of Zennia’s showed up. They haven’t seen each other in over twenty-five years. The guy couldn’t stop staring at Zennia, claimed he’d found his long-lost love.”

  “What are the odds?” Jason asked. “Sounds like a movie.”

  “That’s what I thought. Turns out Zennia used to live on a commune in the redwoods years ago. When she left, this guy moved to Oregon, but now he’s back.”

  “No kidding.” Jason snapped his fingers. “Is this the Evergreen commune?”

  I picked up my fork. “You’ve heard of it?”

  “I did a story a few years back, not too long after I started working at the paper. Drove out there to interview the residents and then wrote an article about their work and living conditions.”

  Ashlee came out of her room right then, straightening out the cord to her ear buds. I was relieved to see that she’d thrown a sweater over her blouse. Of course, the sweater was unbuttoned and did nothing to hide her cleavage, but at least she’d given herself the option to cover up.

  I turned back to Jason. “What was the place like? Did the women have daisy chains in their hair? Did everyone sit in a circle, singing and smoking pot?”

  Jason choked down a laugh. “What do you think this is? A Cheech and Chong movie? No daisy chains, and no one was smoking pot that I saw. Or smelled.”

  “And no one sang ‘Kumbaya’ either?”

  “Not in the last forty years, I’m willing to bet.”

  I heard the jangle of keys as Ashlee pulled them from her bag. She slung the bag over her shoulder. “Later,” she said and headed out the door.

  I leaned back in my chair. “Maybe my impression of communes is out-of-date. I’ll have to search the Herald’s archives online and find your article. The whole idea fascinates me. Imagine living as one big happy family, sharing the land and all your possessions, having a community to support you.”

  Jason put down his fork and stared at me. “Sounds like you’re ready to move there yourself.”

  I shook my head and tucked a chunk of hair behind my ear. “I’m not quitting my job at the farm just yet. In fact, I bet I’m romanticizing the entire concept. Still, a commune’s probably not the worst place to live, now or all those years ago.”

  Jason cleared his throat and leaned across the table. “Now that Ashlee’s gone, how about we forget about the past?” He reached for one of my hands and gazed at me with a look that made my insides light up. “Let’s focus on the present and what the two of us could be doing now that we have the apartment to ourselves.”

  I winked at him. It was the best idea I’d heard all day.

  Chapter 3

  At six the next morning, the blare of the alarm dragged me out of a dreamless sleep. I slapped at the black plastic clock until the noise stopped, then pushed myself to a sitting position so I wouldn’t be tempted to close my eyes and fall back asleep.

  Jason had left by ten the previous evening, but I’d gotten caught up in a Law & Order marathon. It wasn’t until Ashlee slinked in well past midnight, with her hair mussed and her lipstick smeared, that I’d ambled off to bed.

  I threw off the covers and staggered to my feet, succumbing to a huge yawn as I stumbled to the bathroom. After taking a quick shower, I made my way to the kitchen for my usual Pop-Tarts breakfast. While I nibbled the frosted pastry, I clicked on the TV and watched the morning news.

  Since Blossom Valley and its neighboring towns were small, the closest news reports came from the Bay Area. There was an overnight shooting in Oakland, a house fire in San Francisco, and plenty of commuter traffic for the newscasters to talk about. Ashlee had complained last night that there wasn’t anything worth reporting in Blossom Valley, but I’d take no news over bad news any day.

  I sw
allowed the last of my breakfast, washed it down with milk just this side of spoiled, and finished getting ready. Ashlee still wasn’t up, and I made sure to relock the front door on my way out. The sky was cloud free, and the air was warm. In the distance, I heard the siren of an emergency vehicle and said a silent prayer that firemen were merely on their way to rescue a cat from a tree.

  With little traffic on the drive to work, I reached the farm in minutes. Only three cars occupied parking spaces, but I knew it wouldn’t stay this quiet for long. The county fair was rolling into town soon, which always brought overnight guests. Jason and I would be going, and I could practically smell the cotton candy already.

  I parked in my usual corner spot and followed the walking path past the flower and vegetable gardens. Once at the cabins, I hung a left and crossed the patio to enter the farmhouse through the kitchen door.

  Esther, owner of the farm and spa, stood at the counter in brown Capri pants and a denim shirt. A tub of Zennia’s homemade yogurt with the lid off sat before her. Clumps of yogurt hugged the outside of the tub where it had run down the sides, while green strawberry tops and random blueberries littered the workspace.

  As I stepped toward the counter, I felt something crunch under my shoe and lifted it up to find bits of granola stuck to the side. In all my months working at the farm, I’d never seen the kitchen this messy.

  “Esther, where’s Zennia?”

  Esther whirled around with a jerk. Several blueberries flew from her spoon and onto the floor. Behind her, I could see two tall glasses full of berries and yogurt. “Dana, thank goodness you’re here. Zennia hasn’t shown up this morning, and I’m trying to get breakfast ready for the guests.”

  “Is she sick?” I grabbed a broom from the nearby closet and started sweeping up the granola dust and blueberries. “Wait, she mentioned an early breakfast with a friend this morning. Maybe she lost track of time.”

  “But she hasn’t called, and she’s not answering her phone. That’s not like Zennia.” Esther swiped her forehead with the back of her hand and patted her gray curls. “Thank goodness we have the ingredients for these parfaits, or I’d be like a maiden without a milking stool. As it is, these parfaits aren’t enough to feed the guests.”