I was pouring myself a glass of fresh peach sangria when Sudeer approached me. “Solved another one, didn’t you?”
“Hey, Sudeer.”
“How’s the sangria?”
I handed him my glass. “Try for yourself. I’ll pour another one.”
He took a sip and smiled. “Wow. You and Miss May should bottle this and sell it.”
I chuckled. “Maybe we will. By the way, I’m sorry we suspected you of murder again. I mean, we didn’t really suspect you. But we came to question you. I mean, not really question you, just talk. You know what I mean. ”
“Don’t worry about it,” Sudeer said. “You can question me every time as long as you keep finding the real criminals in Pine Grove. It’s kind of fun, being a regular in your cases.”
I gave Sudeer a friendly nod and headed over to my table. People crowded the dance floor, moving and grooving to The Giggles’ funky cover songs.
I was tempted to join, but my feet hurt and I was already sweating from that glass of sangria. The investigation into Beth’s murder had been more stressful than our other mysteries. Realizing the danger of solving murders reminded me how risky our hobby was, and left me feeling introspective. Grateful to be alive, but also pensive and a little somber.
Nonetheless, I relaxed as I settled down at my picnic table. Teeny was there with Brian, the owner of the local coffee shop. She was telling the story of our finale back in the motel with glee, reenacting every move with broad, sweeping hand gestures. Brian was so shocked, his eyes were practically bugging out of his head. “You have to be kidding me,” he said. “Did it really go down like that, Chelsea?”
I sighed. “I wish I could tell you she was making this stuff up. But it was real.”
Master Skinner, my karate sensei from childhood, piped up from nearby. “I heard you were almost bested, Chelsea.”
I looked down. “That’s right, Master Skinner.”
“If you’d ever like to brush up on your skills, learn how to break free of any hold, the dojo is always there for you.”
“Thanks,” I said.
Teeny perked up. “Oh. Can I come? I need to learn karate, too. As a member of the Miss May and Chelsea crime-solving team, I have to be able to protect myself.”
“It would be my honor to teach you self-defense, Teeny,” Master Skinner said with a small bow. “I have learned, over the course of my studies, that small stature can be an asset in martial arts if wielded with confidence.”
Master Skinner walked away, and I chuckled as I watched him go. “Pine Grove is lucky to have such a dedicated sensei,” I said.
“Not as lucky as we are to have you,” a male voice said.
I looked over my shoulder.
Wayne was standing behind me, a small smile creeping across his stoic face. “Hi, Chelsea. Can we talk?”
52
Peaches and Dreams
Wayne strolled off through the peach trees and I walked beside him. He moved slowly, as though considering every step he took. So did I.
When he finally spoke, his words were measured and drawn out. “So. You solved another mystery.”
I looked back at the party happening behind us. The sounds drifted through the heavy summer air, the muted notes of some Van Morrison cover and the muffled din of tipsy chatter. “Yeah. Are you tired of being out-investigated by an interior designer and her elderly aunt yet?” I didn’t mean to flirt, but it may have seemed like I was flirting.
Wayne smiled. “I heard the showdown was dangerous. You went in there without the police.”
“We didn’t have much choice. Anyway, I don’t really need a lecture right now about—”
Wayne held up his hand. “Hold on. That’s not what I’m doing. Not at all. I mean, of course I want you to be careful. But it takes real courage to do what you did. I admire that.”
I looked down. “Oh.”
Wayne reached up and pulled a leaf off the tree. “I’ve always admired that about you. Let me ask… what was up with the tarot cards?”
“Big Jim put them there. To confuse us. He wanted to send us on a wild goose chase, and it worked.”
“Well, at least you three wild geese ended up solving a complicated murder,” Wayne said. “I’m impressed.”
I blushed. How had I gotten here, standing in the early moonlight among the peach trees with Wayne? It was all too romantic. I had a boyfriend. In Africa, yes. But still. He existed. I had assumed Wayne wanted to talk about the case in a more straightforward manner. I tried to pivot back to that. “You know, Flanagan is a bad police chief. We tried to tell her about the brothers and she just ignored us.”
Wayne looked over at me. “I didn’t hear about that.”
I nodded. “Yeah. Miss May called the PGPD and told Chief Flanagan everything. Flanagan told Miss May that it was a waste of time for the Pine Grove police to pursue our theories.”
Wayne shook his head and put a hand in his pocket. “Unreal. Chief Flanagan is my superior officer, so I’m not going to say anything disparaging about her. I will say, however, I might have handled the situation differently. You and Miss May and Teeny have solved enough murders to earn a little bit of credibility around here.”
“Just a little?” I said, with a smirk. Shoot! I was flirting again.
Wayne rolled his eyes. “OK. A moderate amount of credibility.”
I pressed my hand into the bark of a tree. The rough, mossy texture felt good on my skin. “I used to climb these trees when I was a kid. I spent entire afternoons up in these branches, reading books or listening to music.”
“These are beautiful trees.” Wayne placed his hand on the bark, not close enough to touch but close enough for me to feel guilty about the proximity. He looked over at me. “Really beautiful.”
Oh no. What was happening? Was Wayne calling me beautiful using a thinly veiled tree compliment?
Wayne removed his hand from the bark and I breathed a sigh of half-relief, half-disappointment. He looked down and brushed the tree residue from his palms.
I swallowed, then spoke, barely above a whisper. “Why did you want to talk to me?”
Wayne looked at me. Our eyes met. Neither of us spoke for a long moment, and then his lips parted. To talk? To kiss me? What was about to—
“Chelsea.” A familiar voice broke the moment. I turned. It was Germany Turtle, smiling and wearing his usual get-up of jeans, a denim shirt, and a denim jacket.
“Germany! What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Wayne said. “I thought you were in Africa.”
“I heard you solved another mystery. I wanted to return to congratulate you on serving yet another plate of cold justice.”
I giggled. Germany had such an unusual way with words. Germany rushed toward me and wrapped me in his denim-clad arms. Maybe I was imagining it, or maybe Wayne tensed up as Germany hugged me closer.
“All the lions in Africa couldn’t keep me away from you, Chelsea. Unless of course, I was attacked by a pride. Suffering a physical, lion induced injury would likely keep me in Africa and away from you. However, it’s just an expression. I hope you get my meaning.”
“I think she gets it,” Wayne said with a soft chuckle. Even Wayne couldn’t help but be amused at Germany’s quirkiness.
“Detective Hudson. Greetings.” Germany reached out and shook Wayne’s hand. Was it just me or did Wayne squeeze a little too hard?
Germany withdrew his hand from Wayne’s grip and turned back to me. “I requested a special song from the band. Will you join me for a dance?”
I glanced back. Wayne gave me a small smile. “Have fun. I’m going to climb this tree and read a book.”
I averted my eyes. “The top branch is stronger than it looks. Don’t be afraid to climb high.”
Wayne smiled. “I never am.”
Germany took my hand and led me away from the peaches. As we walked, I thought back on the investigation. I remembered Beth accusing me of wanting to kill her. I remembered hidi
ng behind the shed at Salazar’s house. And I remembered the waiter at Grandma’s unveiling Teeny’s precious hushpuppies. The investigation into Beth’s murder had been a strange blend of happiness and tragedy. The same could be said of every case Miss May, Teeny and I had worked together.
Back at the party, everyone cheered as Germany led me onto the dance floor. I looked out at the smiling faces and laughed. If only things could stay so peaceful in Pine Grove forever, I thought.
But things were never peaceful for long, even in our quaint small town. I rested my head on Germany’s shoulder and hoped at least there’d be a few months, even a year, before I had to deal with any new mysteries.
Germany twirled me under his arm, and as I spun around, my vision capturing blurred visions of my friends, my family, my home, I took solace in knowing that whatever the future held, I could handle it. As long as I was surrounded by love.
Even if there was another murder coming soon…
The End
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this book and liked spending a little time in Pine Grove with Chelsea, Teeny and Miss May.
The next book in this series - DREAD AND BUTTER - finds our girls investigating yet another murder in Pine Grove.
You'll love this story because it has a mystery that's tough to solve, plus it’s got a secret bread recipe that some might even kill for…
Grab your copy HERE.
In the meantime, have you read APPLE DIE, the very first installment in the apple orchard series? If you liked PEACHES AND SCREAM, you’ll love the story of the first murder Chelsea and Miss May ever solved.
Apple Die - Excerpt
Chapter 1
Left at the altar. What a cliché. I hadn’t thought my fiancé, Mike, capable of such an unoriginal break-up. But there we were, at the altar, and he kept checking the exits like he was about to rob a bank.
“Are you OK?” I whispered as the priest said some stuff in Latin.
Mike wiped sweat off his forehead. “I’m fine.”
“You’re sweating a lot.”
“I said I’m fine.”
Before I could get further confirmation, the priest joined Mike’s sweaty hands with my hands, and he proceeded with the vows. “Do you, Chelsea Rae Thomas, take Michael Martin Gherkin as your husband, until death do you part?”
“I do.” Easy answer, or so I thought.
The priest turned to Mike. “And do you, Michael, take Chelsea as your lawfully wedded wife?”
Mike swallowed so loud it echoed in the pulpit. Then, after a long moment, he said, “Uh, I think I forgot something in the hotel.” And he turned. And he walked back down the aisle.
Hushed whispers erupted among the guests as Mike took step after plodding step toward the exit. But the whispers became full-blown conversation as Mike broke into a trot and darted out the door.
Every eyeball in the pews watched as Mike left, and once he vanished from sight, all those eyeballs swung to me. What will Chelsea do now?
I’ll tell you what I did. I stood there, shocked, as excuses whirled through my mind like snowflakes in a blizzard.
He forgot the ring, I thought. Or he absent-mindedly neglected to wear underwear. He’d done that before. Or he needed to go to the bathroom. Really, really bad. Also not uncommon for him.
After about fifteen seconds of pin-drop silence, the priest cleared his throat, and I snapped back to reality.
“Uh…” I fiddled with my necklace. “It's possible he really forgot something.”
“That's possible. Yes.” The priest covered his microphone and leaned toward me. “Why don’t you try calling him?”
My eyes welled with tears. “I’m wearing a wedding dress. I don’t have my phone.”
The priest nodded and stepped back to his place at the altar. “Would anyone here today be so kind as to call the groom?”
Yet another hushed whisper whooshed through the crowd. You want us to call him?! The priest continued, “Normally I frown on cell phone usage in the church. But we have another wedding in a half an hour, and it would be good to know when Michael might be back.”
My Aunt May — a sturdy woman most people called “Miss May” — stood up. “I tried him. No answer.”
Miss May looked at me. Ever since my parents had died, she had been like my mom and dad all rolled up into one. In that moment, I felt her sympathy, and I saw the hurt of a thousand parents in her sharp blue eyes. That’s when I realized… This had to end.
I turned to the priest. “I should go, shouldn't I?”
The priest nodded and pulled me close to him. “Go with God.”
I took a deep breath and looked out over the wedding guests. The perceptive among them knew what was about to happen. Everyone else was in for a sight they would never forget.
I wiped my tears. I took off my way-too-expensive, peep-toe heels, one at a time. And I marched down the aisle with my head held high.
I dropped one of my shoes as I climbed down from the altar, but I didn’t stop to get it. Someday, I’ll get Cinderella'd with that lost slipper. I thought. All I needed was a prince that wouldn’t run screaming out of the chapel on our wedding day.
When I got about a third of the way down the aisle, Miss May was standing there with her arm extended to escort me out. When I saw her, I burst into grateful tears, and my whole body flooded with relief as I slipped my arm through hers.
“That dress looks amazing on you,” Miss May said. “Well worth the thousand bucks.”
At that, I cracked up laughing. Miss May had a way of hitting me right in the funny bone, even when I was bereft of joy.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said. And I walked out of the church, chin up, arm-in-arm with my aunt instead of my husband.
When I got back to the hotel room, I found Mike's tuxedo in a rumpled pile with a note pinned to the lapel that said, “I have no clue where to return this.”
After I muttered a few not-so-kind suggestions about where Mike might shove that tux, I marched out to the parking lot and tossed it into the dumpster, shoes and all.
“Take that, you stupid jerk face!”
I screamed, because I thought I was alone. Then I kicked the dumpster, also because I thought I was alone.
“Ma’am?”
I was not alone.
I spun around as a security guard approached from the shadows. My wedding dress slid off my shoulders. Mascara ran down my cheeks. My “up-do” had transformed into an “up-don’t.” I must have been a sight. Still, the security guard attempted a cautious but well-intentioned word.
“Congratulations?”
And thus ended my wedding day. Hooray.
Chapter 2
Six months later, I was living alone in a dingy studio apartment in Jersey City, New Jersey, at my all-time low. My social life no longer existed. My business was in shambles. And my only human contact was with Hao Hu, the Chinese delivery guy who brought me Lo Mein every night at six. I want to say Hao was my best friend, but I’m not sure he’d say the same of me.
It was a rainy Tuesday, or Wednesday, or a Friday, when my life took a turn for the better.
The time was 6:03 PM and Hao was three minutes late with my Lo Mein. Hao hadn’t been late during my entire stint in Jersey City, so I worried a taxi had mowed him down as he pedaled his way through traffic with my food.
I imagined the whole grisly scene. Hao splayed on the pavement. My ill-fated Lo Mein splattered like guts on the rain-soaked streets. Hao’s bike a twisted hunk of metal in the gutter. The clock struck 6:04, and I grabbed my phone, milliseconds from calling 9-1-1 to report a missing delivery boy. Then, there was a knock at the door. Phewph.
“Hi Hao,” I called out. “Thank God you’re alive. Give me one second!”
I pulled on my good pajama pants and bounced across the room with a smile, excited for Lo Mein time. But when I opened the door, it was not Hao Hu. It was Miss May, holding a big bag of Chinese food.
“Is that my—”
&nbs
p; Miss May smiled. “Yep. I followed the delivery guy in and intercepted him in the stairwell.”
“How did you figure out the food was for me?”
“I asked, ‘Is that food for Chelsea?’ and he said yes. I paid him extra to let me deliver it.”
Miss May stepped inside and looked around. Her sharp blue eyes took in the plastic wall clock, the lumpy futon, the painful fluorescent lights, and every other sordid detail of my dusty Jersey City pad. Last and quite possibly least, her gaze rested on me. Yes, I was wearing my good pajama pants. No, Miss May did not seem impressed. She sighed, “Don’t tell me you call this place home.”
I hung my head in shame and also to see if my t-shirt had any stains on it. It did. Spicy mustard. Oh well.
“Um. Maybe not home. But this is where I’ve been living. It’s… cozy.”
Miss May ran her finger along one of the dusty counters. “No wonder you haven’t let me visit. I’m going to catch the avian flu just standing here.”
I smiled. Miss May said everything with such familiarity. I felt at home whenever she was around. I needed that. Possibly even more than I needed my Lo Mein. Although, it was past my normal feeding time.
Miss May opened and shut a few cabinets. “Do you have utensils, or have you been eating with your hands?”
“The Chinese place brings me fresh chopsticks with every order,” I said.
Miss May cleared some junk mail off the kitchen table so we would have a place to eat.
“Does Mike know this is how you’re living now?”
I shrugged. “I haven’t asked him.”
“You haven’t talked to him at all?” Miss May raised an eyebrow.
“I mean, I’ve yelled a lot of four-letter-words at him in my head. But other than that, there hasn’t been much to say.”
Thunk. Miss May tossed the junk mail in the trash, annoyed. “I still can’t believe that rat locked you out of your whole life.”
“Technically it was his right. His name was on the lease.”
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