“Please state your business, ma’am,” he said as he flipped through his clipboard.
“Uh…” Star muttered like a cat caught her tongue. Strangely enough, this was one of the few times I witnessed Star speechless.
Star’s lack of answer raised the guard’s suspicion. To get a closer look, he bent over and peeked his head into her window.
“Is everything ok?” he said as he raised his eyebrow.
“Mr. Tanger,” I said as his voice triggered my memory. “Is that you?”
“Kara Summers,” he said as his demeanor quickly changed, and he smiled.
I rushed out of the car and walked around to give him a hug. While the two of us embraced, I looked over in Star’s direction. Even through her bug-smeared front windshield, I noticed the look of confusion on her face.
“Mr. Tanger lived down the street from us growing up,” I explained.
“How’s your mother doing?” he asked.
“She’s doing well.”
“Unfortunately, the last time I saw her was at your father’s funeral,” he said as he removed his hat. “My condolences, Kara. Your father was a great man. This community truly lost one of the good ones.”
“Thank you, Mr. Tanger. That means a lot,” I replied. “Speaking of Mom, that’s why we’re here. She covered the SSHA event last night but lost one of her earrings. We hoped we might get a chance to ask around and see if anyone found it. Maybe look around a bit ourselves?”
“Why didn’t you just say so?” he replied without hesitation.
Mr. Tanger walked over to the guard shack and raised the gate. I jumped back into Star’s car, and he waved us through. The entire time Star’s jaw dropped in disbelief.
“Is there anyone in this town you don’t know?” Star asked.
“My grandmother always said that life was about connections,” I replied as I felt proud of myself.
“Didn’t your grandma also tell you not to lie?”
“I didn’t lie,” I said as I pulled an earring out of my purse. “My mom did lose an earring last night. Here’s the other half. But if we happen to find a clue involving the incident with Bonnie May, what’s the harm in that.”
Before driving off, Mr. Tanger walked back over to the car.
“It was nice seeing you, tell your mother I said hi.”
“I will,” I said before remembering one last thing. “Quick question. What day of the week is the club’s trash picked up?”
“Tuesday, I believe,” he answered with a confused look on his face. “How come?”
“Just wondering,” I replied. “See you later.”
“That’s an odd question to ask,” Star said as she began to drive off.
We drove down the long and curvy road that led to the main building. Beautiful and meticulously maintained golf courses surrounded us as we drove through. Just the sight of how beautiful the greens were made me consider taking up golf. But then again, probably not. I sucked at putt-putt golf, for heaven’s sake.
As we entered the main parking area, the main lot in front was only half full. The only people at the club at this time of day were normally members playing golf.
“Don’t pull over here,” I said, pointing out the window. “Park near the back.”
“Shouldn’t we park by the entrance?” Star asked.
“Pull behind the building, instead,” I said. “I have an idea.”
“Oh great,” Star replied, sarcastically. “Why do I have the feeling your idea will lead us into trouble?”
“Relax,” I said, trying to reassure her. “We’ll be in and out of here in no time at all.”
I led Star to the area behind the main building. Not much happened behind there, except for deliveries and employees sneaking out for a smoke break. Star looked confused as she reluctantly followed me.
“The answer lies in there,” I said as I pointed to the large metal object in front of us.
“A garbage dumpster?” Star asked. She gave me look as if she thought I was crazy. “Seriously?”
“Think about it, Star. A murderer with half a brain wouldn’t leave a clue sitting in the garbage inside. They’d take the garbage out here, where no one would think to look.”
“Maybe there’s a reason for that,” she replied.
“Doesn’t hurt to look, though.”
“You’re as crazy as you look if you think I’m going dumpster diving,”
“Relax,” I said as I pulled out a pair of latex gloves from my purse. “I got this.”
“Do you always carry a pair of glove with you?”
“Always be prepared,” I said as I smiled. “Scout’s code.”
Beside the back door sat an empty plastic milk crate. I picked the milk crate up and carried it to the dumpster. By turning the milk crate upside-down, it provided a make shift step-stool. This allowed me to reach further into the dumpster.
I pushed open the top, swinging it over as it crashed against the back of the dumpster. A large thud sounded out.
The man told us the waste management company picked the trash up on Tuesdays. Unfortunately for us, it was Monday. So, the trash sat marinating in the Florida heat for over a week. It smelled like not-so-fresh skunk topped with a scoop of death.
“There better not be another dead body in there or I’m out,” Star said as she pinched her nose shut.
I opened my purse and pulled out a pack of tissues. I tore the tissue and stuffed a bit in my nose. It helped some, but the smell was still awful. So I tried to hurry.
I noticed a small tied garbage bag in the back corner. It appeared to be the size used in most waste baskets. The bag seemed suspicious but was out of my reach.
“Star, get over here and give me a hand.”
“I already told you, I’m not getting near that thing.”
“I’m not asking you to get in. I need you to hold my legs to keep me from falling in.”
Star reluctantly agreed. She walked over and stood beside me. I reached in further, causing my legs to dangle over the side. Star held on, trying to keep me from falling in.
“I’ve almost got it,” I said as I stretched my arm as far as I could. “Just one more inch…”
“A rat,” Star screamed before I finished my sentence.
Star let go of my legs and jumped away from the dumpster. The second she released me, I went tumbling head first into the dumpster. I closed my eyes as I crashed into a sea of smelly trash.
I quickly tried to regain my composure. Well…at least as much composure as one could regain while sitting inside a dumpster.
“What the heck, Star,” I screamed.
“I’m sorry, Kara, but I don’t do rats,” Star said as she tried to contain her laughter. “Didn’t your grandma say to always dive into your work, head first?”
She did say that, but that was beside the point.
I looked over and saw the small trash bag that caused this mess. I held my breath as I crawled over to retrieve it. I tried my best not to think about all the other bugs and critters around me.
I ripped a hole into the bag and began to sort through it. The bag contained an assortment of plastic cups, lemons, limes, and soaked napkins. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary, until I felt something small and plastic on the bottom.
I moved all the other trash aside and grabbed the object. As I pulled the object out to examine it, I immediately recognized it. The object was a small plastic bottle. The label on the bottle read:
Mulberry Farms – Organic Blueberry Extract
I’d used various flavors of extracts from the same company. Mulberry Farms was an organic farm, located about an hour north of Sunny Shores.
Star’s head poked in as she looked on curiously. “What did you find?”
“Something unusual,” I replied as I raised my hand up in the air, out of the dumpster. “A bottle of blueberry extract.”
“How is finding food additive in a dumpster behind a kitchen unusual?” she asked as she sounded disappointed. “I
thought you found something worthwhile. All that effort for a baking ingredient.”
“Star, Bonnie May’s allergic to blueberries,” I replied. “Deathly allergic, if I recall correctly.”
I discovered Bonnie May’s allergy to blueberries a few weeks prior. When the Burger She Wrote Food Truck was temporarily shut down, Bonnie May allowed me to bake a few pies to sell at her café. When I suggested a blueberry pie, she let me know right away how allergic she was.
The bottle was open and completely empty, with the cap off. I searched the bag for the cap but couldn’t find it. It seemed odd, to say the least.
“Help me out of here, Star,” I said as I tried to stand up. “We have a bottle cap to find.”
“Why do we need to find the cap?”
“Because…it may offer a clue.”
Star reached inside and offered her hand, while she pinched her nose shut with the other. I stumbled over in her direction as I tried to stabilize myself on the mountain of garbage.
For a brief second, thoughts of pulling Star in with me crossed my mind. In the end, I decided on being the bigger person. That…and the fact that Star was stronger than me. All the CrossFit she did was starting to pay off.
“A small cap like that could be anywhere. How in the world are we going to locate something that small?”
She offered a valid point. It would probably be easier to find a needle in a haystack.
“Fancy seeing you two here,” Detective Beaux said as he creeped out from around the corner. “Although I fail to understand why you’re snooping around here. Last, I could tell, we’re a few miles from Grove Park. The location of the charity box.”
“It’s like they say,” I said as I faked a smile. “Leave no stone unturned, right?”
“That’s the saying,” he said, unconvinced. “Funny coincidence that you’re poking around the same place that Bonnie May collapsed.”
“Busted,” Star said as she grew tired of the game of back and forth. “He’s right. Just admit it.”
“I knew it,” he said. “I thought we talked about this. I thought I made myself perfectly clear.”
“I’m sorry,” I replied. “I had a feeling that I couldn’t shake. Something seemed off.”
“Is this the same feeling that keeps getting you involved in messy situations one after the other?” Detective Beaux asked in a tone heaping with sarcasm.
“Maybe,” I replied before snapping back. “Or the same feeling that helped solve two murder cases this summer.”
“Touché, darling,” Detective Beaux said as he grinned. “Touché.”
“How did you find us?” I asked. “You weren’t stalking me again, were you?”
“Darling, there’s a big difference between following a lead and stalking. Don’t flatter yourself,” he replied. “I saw two young ladies digging through a dumpster as I pulled into the parking lot. Looked like something worth checking out.”
“So, you returned to the scene of the crime as well. I totally get it now. That’s why you’re here, isn’t?” I asked as I tried to deflect the subject around to him. “You don’t buy that this was an accident either, do you?”
“Let’s just say I had a feeling as well,” Beaux responded. “Just call it detective intuition.”
“Well, regardless of you two’s feelings or intuitions, can we please go inside?” Star asked as her patience wore thin. “If I see another rat, I’m going to freak out. Neither of you want that.”
I showed Beaux the empty bottle of blueberry extract I discovered in the dumpster. Once he became aware of Bonnie May’s allergies, he hopped onboard our line of thinking. Somehow we convinced him to let us tag along.
Beaux rang the delivery bell at the back door, as Star and I stood and waited. A few moments later, the door swung open hard. In the doorway stood a tall, bulky gentlemen wearing a white coat and chef’s hat.
“What is the meaning of this?” the man said in a thick French accent. “Deliveries are between one and three. Can’t you read?”
The man pointed to a sign as he huffed his breath. He appeared agitated and annoyed by our mere presence. Obviously, he had more important things to do than deal with us.
“My good sir, we are not vendors,” Detective Beaux said as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his badge. “I’m Detective Beaux Dauterive of the Sunny Shores Police Department. These here are my associates, Miss Daniels and Miss Summers.”
“I have a group of a hundred senior citizens to prepare for tonight. There’s no time for silliness. Come back when you have a warrant.”
“Look here, Chef Boyardee,” Star said as she pushed her way forward between me and Beaux. “I’d cooperate if I were you.”
“How dare you compare me to that hack, Chef Boyardee?” he asked as he stared at Star with a look of disgust. “I’ll have you know I graduated from Le Cordon Bleu in Paris. I studied under the great Chef Rougie for three years. Chef Rocco is no Chef Boyardee!”
Frenchie already seemed agitated enough, but Star managed to hit an even deeper nerve. I felt I needed to do something before the vein in his neck popped.
“Rocco, we apologize for showing up unannounced. It’s terribly rude, I know,” I explained using a calm and soothing tone. “We believe our friend may have been intentionally poisoned here last night, with an ingredient she’s deathly allergic to. We can tell you’re an extremely busy man, and we promise to stay out of your hair. Please just let us look around for any clues, so we can determine what really happened to our friend.”
Even though I had to bite my lip, I tried my best to stay polite. As angry as he appeared, I figured I’d try the nice approach. Besides, my grandma liked to say you catch more flies with honey. However, after falling in a dumpster, I seemed to be attracting more flies than anything.
“A food allergy incident? From my kitchen? That’s preposterous,” he said as he wagged his finger. “I have my assistant survey the guests for every major event beforehand. I receive a list of every allergy and mild food irritant. I scrub my kitchen clean of any ingredient mentioned.”
“Why was this in the dumpster?” I asked as I revealed the empty bottle of blueberry extract in my hand. “The trash was emptied yesterday morning, so someone threw it away in the last day or so.”
The man paused as he looked dumbfounded. He mumbled something under his breath in French. I didn’t speak French, but it didn’t take a translator to understand. Based on his tone, he used a few choice words I was sure his momma didn’t approve of.
“This way,” he said as he led us into the kitchen. “Don’t touch anything.”
As he shut the back door behind him, he muttered under his breath, “Chef Boyardee…the nerve…”
What’s so bad about Chef Boyardee? I thought to myself. Who doesn’t love spaghetti-o’s?
Chapter 8
We walked through the kitchen, following behind the chef. I noticed immediately how spotless and immaculate the kitchen was. Not surprising since he seemed strict. He no doubt ran a tight ship.
He stopped in front of the chef’s office near the dishwasher. On the wall outside the office hung several clipboards, each one filled with various papers. He grabbed one and began flipping through the papers. When he found the one he wanted he pulled it out and handed it to Detective Beaux.
“Right there,” he said as he pointed to the paper. “Under the restricted items list. Blueberries or blueberry flavored ingredients.”
He tapped his finger continually on the line with blueberries on it. His face reflected a smug look. An ‘I told you’ so kind of look.
“So, how did the empty bottle of extract end up in the trash?” I asked.
“I don’t know what to tell you, but it didn’t come from my kitchen,” he replied.
His explanation failed to sway my opinion. At this point, it was a dead end. Chef Rocco refused to budge or accept any responsibility, so I had another idea.
“Let’s say the extract didn’t originate from your
kitchen. The only other logical place would be the main banquet hall. May we have a look in there?”
“I suppose,” replied. At this point he was open to the idea, mainly because he wanted to get rid of us. “You have ten minutes.”
We followed Rocco through the kitchen as he led us to the main banquet area. The room was beautiful and majestic. A large crystal chandelier first caught my eyes as we walked in. The windows were draped with red velvet curtains. Symphonic music played quietly in the background.
The main banquet room was set up to host and accommodate large parties, events, and conferences. Most of the room contained a cluster of round-top tables for dining. These sat in front of a small area with a large table and podium.
The remaining area of the room contained the lounge and bar area, along with a large open space. People danced and mingled in this area. It was where Bonnie May collapsed that evening.
“Please, show yourselves out the main entrance this time when you’ve finished,” he said as he pointed toward the front. “And stay away from my kitchen.”
After Rocco exited the room, we began our search for clues. Beaux walked over to the area where Bonnie May passed out. I, on the other hand, took a different approach. I knew exactly where I wanted to look.
The bar.
As I made my way to the bar, Star’s eyes followed me, with a look of confusion.
“Do you really think it’s a good time to get a drink?” she asked.
“Funny,” I replied as I walked behind the bar. “I already explained how the other items in the trash bag appeared to be from the bar. The bag contained fruit garnishes and bar straws. Help me look?”
Star shrugged before joining my search of the bar. We both looked around before realizing a key piece of my argument was missing.
“I don’t see a waste basket back here, Kara.”
“There has to be one around here somewhere,” I explained. “The bartender needs a place to dispose of his trash.”
“It must be my lucky day,” a voice called out behind us. “The boss didn’t say he hired two new servers. And pretty ones to boot.”
The voice belonged to a bartender. He returned from the kitchen holding a large bucket of ice. Before he said another word, he poured the ice over the bottled beers in the cooler. When finished, he sat the bucket on the counter and reached out his hand.
Blueberry Pie White Lie - a Cozy Mystery: Sunny Shores Mysteries Book 3 Page 4