Candy Apple Killer

by Chelsea Thomas

Uh, ma’am?!

  I resumed my march, in defiance of Wayne’s hand. “You can't question KP like this. He doesn't even have a lawyer present.”

  “I don't need a lawyer! I didn't do anything.”

  Miss May’s imposing voice echoed through the barn. “You always need a lawyer.”

  Sometimes, I forgot that my earthy, pie-making aunt had been a big-shot New York City prosecutor in a previous life. But she usually reminded me pretty quickly.

  Miss May approached and stepped between KP and Wayne. “That's enough, Detective Hudson.”

  “Relax, May. I have this covered,” KP said.

  “No, you don’t,” Miss May said.

  “I told this fool, I'm innocent. So what if I'm glad the lady croaked? Doesn’t mean I’m guilty. I just have excellent taste in people. And that particular people deserved to die.”

  I took KP’s arm and tried to lead him away from Wayne. “KP! Stop talking.”

  Wayne took KP’s other arm. Like we were gripping two sides of a wishbone. “If the man wants to talk, let him talk.”

  Miss May grew two inches as she straightened her shoulders and got right in Wayne’s face. “Let go of my client’s arm, sir.”

  Wayne's nostrils flared. He glared at Miss May. She did not blink. She took another step toward him and crossed her arms. “Unless you have a warrant for this man's arrest, I need you to release him. Immediately.”

  Wayne let go of KP and help up a hand in apology. “OK. You know I respect you, May. Everyone needs to calm down.”

  Tension buzzed in the air like a hive of angry bees. I wondered which thing I was more allergic to: conflict or actual bees.

  Flanagan entered the barn. “Hey Wayne, we’re all ready to leave if you...” Flanagan trailed off when she saw the three-way standoff among Wayne, KP, and Miss May. “What's going on in here?”

  Wayne swiveled toward Flanagan. “Nothing. I'm good to go.” Wayne paused on his way out. “And KP? Don't leave town.”

  6

  Fighting Back

  THE NEXT MORNING, WE went to Grandma's to debrief Teeny on the Turtle fiasco. The restaurant was quiet, which was weird for a Sunday morning. Word about Linda’s death had traveled across Pine Grove like a plague, so I assumed lots of people had stayed indoors, hoping to avoid murderers.

  Petey, Teeny’s teenage line cook, vacuumed the carpet with his headphones on. Other than him, there was only one person in the entire place.

  The lone customer was someone I didn’t recognize, which was also weird. The man was older, late 60s maybe, and he sat at a table by himself in the far corner. He had stringy hair tied back in a ponytail and wore a blazer with elbow-patches. The man poked at the eggs and bacon on his plate but didn't eat. His eyes drooped like a sad puppy from one of those depressing animal rescue commercials.

  Granny, Teeny’s mom and the owner of the restaurant, read a magazine from her usual stool behind the cash register. Teeny rushed over to greet us, darting past Granny so fast that the stool spun in a full circle. Granny seemed not to notice.

  "Another dead body," Teeny said. "I can't believe it!"

  Miss May shook her head. “No one can.”

  Teeny gestured at the man in the corner. “See that guy?" She leaned in and whispers. "That's Linda Turtle’s brother. Next of kin, I guess. I told him breakfast was on the house. But he's like a vegetable. Morose. It's so sad."

  I looked at the stranger. He didn’t seem to have any of the pretension of his sister, and I wondered if they’d been close.

  “You two want some coffee?” Teeny asked. “I just made a fresh pot”

  "Sounds perfect," Miss May said. “Chels?”

  “Sure. With ten creams, please," I said. I loved the idea of drinking fresh, hot coffee, but I couldn’t stand the taste. "Actually, let me get a chocolate milk with a shot of espresso. I’ll take it like medicine."

  My phone buzzed in my pocket. I glanced at the caller ID and saw it was Mike. Again. I pressed decline and slipped the phone back into my jeans.

  Moments later, Teeny brought us our drinks, then slid into the booth beside Miss May and we talked about Linda's death. Neither Miss May nor I mentioned the possibility that we might try to solve the case. But I secretly hoped Miss May was up for another investigation. All the murders that had occurred in town, horrible as they were, had given me confidence and purpose and strength. I wanted to have the chance to help bring another criminal to justice.

  I was grateful when Teeny turned the conversation to our sleuthing. “So. You two are going to work this case, right? Find the killer? Put him, or her, behind bars for life?”

  I was about to answer yes when Miss May shook her head no.

  “I don't think so,” Miss May said. “The police are sick of us. And they're right to resent our involvement.”

  “But they're so bad at their jobs,” Teeny said. “Last week, they gave me a ticket for parking in my own driveway. $400!”

  “That doesn't make sense," I said. “You shouldn’t pay that.”

  “Technically, half my car was on the sidewalk,” Teeny said. “But this is a small town! If you can't park on the sidewalk in Pine Grove, where can you park on the sidewalk?”

  “Just pay the ticket, Teeny.” Miss May poured herself more coffee. “And let this whole sleuthing conversation go. Chelsea and I need to focus on building more business at the orchard. We're not interested in solving any more mysteries.”

  Speak for yourself, I thought. Still, I stayed silent, not wanting to defy Miss May.

  “Business is not going to pick up until this case is solved,” Teeny said.

  “That's why we're going to focus on starting a wholesale line of pies,” Miss May said. “I want to get into grocery stores and gift shops throughout the state.”

  “You do?” I asked.

  "Yep," Miss May said. "I woke up thinking about it this morning. And now that we're talking about it, I realize that it's a good idea."

  "But what about the mystery?" I asked. "There's a killer on the loose."

  "The police will handle police business. We'll handle orchard business. That's the way it should be."

  "That's bull honky," Teeny said. "The people of Pine Grove need you to work this case!"

  Miss May crossed her arms. "Sorry."

  Teeny turned to me. "Chelsea. Convince her!"

  I looked at Miss May. She glared back at me. I shrugged. "Sorry, Teeny. I don't think I can."

  I looked away and took a depressed sip of chocolate milk. I wasn't ready to give up on solving mysteries, and I hated myself for lacking the courage to say so.

  ONCE WE FINISHED OUR drinks, Miss May and I walked out to the car with Teeny. We were about to say goodbye when suddenly Petey burst out onto the parking lot and changed the course of the investigation forever.

  “Miss May! Chelsea! Wait!”

  We turned back. Petey dragged the vacuum cleaner behind him. He panted as he stopped running.

  "Petey. What's wrong?" Miss May asked. "Everything OK?"

  Petey shook his head and took another few seconds to catch his breath. Then he looked up.

  “That guy. KP. He works at your orchard. Right?”

  Miss May and I nodded.

  Petey gulped.

  "Yeah. Well. I've got bad news."

  "Spit it out, Petey," Teeny said.

  Petey gulped. “He's just been placed under arrest.”

  7

  Free KP

  “UNDER ARREST?" MISS May said. “For what? How do you know? Do you have a police scanner or something?"

  “What's a police scanner?” Petey asked.

  “Just tell the lady how you got your information,” Teeny said. “No need to rub in how young you are. ‘What’s a police scanner?’ Humph. Chelsea's young, too! See? Barely any wrinkles. A few crow’s feet, that’s it.”

  “Thanks, Teeny,” I said. “I think.”

  “All the kids in town have been talking about it on Pictogram,” Petey said. “My boy Lil G
eorge was at the police station when that giant detective guy pulled up with your friend. Lil George even snapped a pic.”

  Petey opened his phone and held it out for us to see. Sure enough, there was a photo of KP, scowling and handcuffed at the police station.

  Teeny winced. “He does not look happy.”

  Miss May stayed focused on Petey. “Did your friend Little George–”

  “Lil George,” Petey corrected, emphasizing the lil.

  “Right,” Miss May said. “Did he find out, by any chance, why KP had been arrested?”

  Petey shook his head. “Lil George just took the photo. He has troubles of his own to deal with.”

  “You need better friends, Petey,” Teeny said. “Who is this George? What kind of trouble was he in?”

  “Nah, you got it wrong. Lil George is good people. He was there to visit his parole officer.”

  “Hold on a second,” Teeny said. “I have a whole new thing to be mad about. What are you doing on your phone at work?”

  “I was researching a new recipe," Petey said. "That's the only way I'm going to be a real chef. You don't learn how to cook by vacuuming the floor.”

  “Now you want to be a chef?" Teeny said. "What happened to high school? I want you to go back to high school! There's nothing more valuable than a good education.”

  Miss May stepped between Petey and Teeny. “No one respects the value of a good education more than I do, Teeny. But one of my closest friends is currently in the slammer. Can we focus our energies on getting him out?”

  “Good point,” Teeny said. She turned to Petey. “Go finish vacuuming. Then fill out an application for your GED and put it on my desk.”

  We watched as Petey gathered the vacuum and trudged inside. Then I turned to Teeny and Miss May.

  “So what are we going to do?” I asked.

  “What do you think?” Miss May took the keys from my hand. “We're going to free KP."

  MISS MAY, TEENY, AND I were in such a panic en route to the jail that I imagined when we arrived the police department would be in a panic, too. Officers running every which way. Drug addicts cuffed and slumped against the wall. Punk teenagers getting roughed up by crooked cops. Detective Wayne Hudson overseeing the mayhem, drinking coffee and barking orders.

  When we arrived, however, I remembered we were in Pine Grove, not New York City. The police department was nearly empty. No addicts or punks. And no Wayne, for better or worse.

  There was only one police officer in the entire building, in fact. A skinny kid, maybe 22, sitting behind the reception desk. As soon as he noticed us, the officer jumped to his feet.

  “Can I help you?” The young officer's voice squeaked when he spoke. Did I say 22? Make that 14.

  Miss May crossed to the front desk in four powerful strides. Like Clark Kent donning his cape, Miss May had pulled back her hair in a slick knot and put on her most serious face. She was in full-on lawyer-mode and I liked it.

  “Yes, you can help me,” Miss May said. “You have arrested a man named KP Miller. This is a mistake. He needs to be remitted into my custody immediately.”

  The young officer grabbed a file off his desk. “It says here Mr. Miller is not to be released under any circumstances.”

  “I don't care what it says there,” Ms. May said. “I say that—”

  The phone rang, and the young officer answered, cutting Miss May off.

  “Hello? No, ma'am. We have not located your missing feline yet, but the squad is out in full force conducting an investigation. I understand your concern. Yes. I understand that the feline is a biter. We'll be in touch.”

  “The squad is out investigating a missing cat?" Miss May asked. "Are you kidding me? You have a frail older man being held in this building without justifiable cause. If he is not released, I will seek retribution at the highest levels.”

  The young officer adjusted his collar and offered a weak smile. “I'm sorry...This is my first week. I can't release someone from custody without authorization."

  Miss May slammed her fist on the desk. "I'll get the district attorney on the phone right now. Is that what you want? You want to make a fool of yourself in front of the D.A.?"

  The kid stammered. "Uh...I'll tell you what...I'm not supposed to do this, but I can let you talk to him. If you want. Would that help? For like, five minutes?”

  "Ten minutes," Miss May narrowed her eyes. “And I won't file a grievance with the district."

  Miss May winked at me. She had never expected the officer to release KP. Getting to talk to KP in person was an excellent consolation prize.

  “Are we going now, or do I need to use a secret password?” Miss May asked.

  The young officer jumped out of his chair, fell back on his butt, then climbed up with a scared smile.

  "Follow me!"

  ONCE WE WERE ALONE with KP, Miss May got straight to the point.

  “Please tell me you did not kill that woman.”

  KP balked. “Come on, May! You know I couldn’t hurt a fly.”

  “I have seen you kill many flies with great zeal,” Miss May said.

  "Fine," KP said. "You got me. I hate flies. But I did not lay a finger on that Turtle.”

  “Then why did they bring you in here, KP? Just because you were slamming tables around after the event?”

  “I guess so." KP threw his hands up. "Chelsea's boyfriend has it out for me.”

  “He's not my boyfriend!” I said. "We're not even friends right now. I don't know what we are. It's complicated."

  “Now’s not the time to define the relationship, Chelsea.” Miss May retrained her laser-focused gaze on KP. “The police didn't give you any inclination why they brought you in? They didn't provide reasonable cause?”

  “Stupid Pine Grove PD," Teeny said. "Incompetent whack jobs if you ask me."

  KP averted his eyes. “Actually. I guess, maybe, perhaps, they may have had reasonable cause.”

  "Uh-oh," Teeny said. “Did they catch you red-handed? Did you confess in a fit of rage? Is the Turtle woman your long-lost-lover from your secret life working as a Manhattan art dealer in the 80’s?”

  “Teeny!” Miss May glared. “Stop quoting episodes of the North Port diaries! This is serious."

  "Sounds like a good show though," KP said.

  Teeny smiled. "It's amazing."

  "KP!" Miss May said. "Why did they bring you in here?"

  "Oh. Uh... Well..." KP looked down.

  "Just tell us, KP. That's the only way we can help."

  KP nodded. Bit his lip. "I guess, uh... I did have what you might describe as a fit of rage when I was talking to that detective.”

  "OK..." Miss May narrowed her eyes.

  "And I guess, uh, I got so mad that they were accusing me...that I told the cops they had permission to confiscate any and all of my property as evidence.”

  “KP.” Miss May rubbed her temples.

  “I know. I know! But I wanted them to leave me alone. And I had nothing to hide.”

  Teeny leaned forward. “So. What did they find?”

  “They didn't find anything,” KP said. “But they claim to have found arsenic in my candy apple kit. And, from what I overheard in the squad car, arsenic is the poison that was used to kill that snobby old Lizard.”

  “Turtle,” I said. I had a bad habit of correcting people at inopportune moments.

  “I know what her name is!” KP reddened. “Didn't you hear what I said? They've got me dead to rights!”

  “A little arsenic isn’t enough to convict you of murder. Is it?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” KP said. “It looks pretty bad."

  "I don't understand," Teeny said. "Why did you have arsenic in your candy apple kit?"

  “I didn't!” KP pounded the table. “I was framed.”

  I gasped. “No way.”

  “Bet your britches,” KP said. “Someone killed the old reptile. Now they've got me hanging on the hook for it.”

  “Who would do that
to you?” Miss May asked. “I know you have, er, some old grudges, but this—”

  “I'm not sure it's even about me, May.” KP leaned forward. “I think someone wanted her dead. And they used me as the patsy."

  My mind flashed back to the hoedown. Linda had upset everyone in town in a matter of days. I could only imagine how many enemies she must have left behind in Manhattan. What if one of those people wanted her dead? Maybe the Turtles weren't just trying to get away from an empty bank account and some fake land in the Netherlands. Maybe they had a darker secret to hide.

  A loud knock jolted me from my thoughts and back into the present. Seconds later, Wayne barged into the room. And he did not look happy.

  Teeny and I jumped to our feet when Wayne entered. KP scooted his chair back against the wall. Miss May didn’t move a muscle.

  “What is this?" Wayne said. "You are not allowed back here. None of you are.”

  Miss May gave Wayne a small smile. “Detective Hudson. So nice to see you here. I was beginning to think the Pine Grove Police Department had forced you into retirement for incompetence.”

  Wayne glared. “You need to get back into the lobby, now.”

  “Not going to happen, Wayne.” Miss May pointed at Kenneth. “This man was coerced into providing evidence without understanding the significance of his actions. That is unjust and illegal in New York State. As his acting attorney, I demand his immediate release.”

  "The evidence we gathered was provided willingly," Wayne said. "And as far as I know, you're no longer a lawyer in the state of New York. So, like I said, get out.”

  Doubt flickered across Miss May’s face. “I don’t know where you get your information, but—”

  “I looked you up,” Wayne said. “You haven't been a member of the New York State bar for years.”

  “That's not true!” I said. “How can you call yourself a detective and be so bad at getting the truth?”

  Miss May moved toward the exit. “Forget it, Chelsea. Let's get out of here.”

  KP looked up at Miss May. “May. Wait! What do I do now?”

  "You sit tight," Miss May said. "We'll bail you out of here. Right now. What do you want me to make for dinner tonight?”