THE BUZZ KILL
(The Honeybee Mysteries)
KATHERINE HAYTON
Copyright © 2018 Katherine Hayton
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.
Cover Design by kathay1973
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
About the Author
Chapter One
Alice squeezed out the sugar syrup onto the frame before sliding it back into place inside the hive. The bees were still upset, rousing from the smoke she’d liberally sprayed them with to help keep them calm during the journey.
With the eight full hives strapped to the back of her friend Doug’s flatbed truck, Alice had felt like a gangster as they drove through the city streets before dawn. A gangster with a seat load of children she couldn’t resist turning her head to check on every two minutes.
“How’re they looking?” a man called out near her.
Alice surmised the local TV station had sent him out to report on the story, given the cameraman following him around. She pulled off her apiarist hat and unfastened her gloves before answering. It always took Alice a long time to frame a response, her mind sorting through all the possibilities. Even then, she usually said the wrong thing.
“They look as upset as you or I would if we’d just moved to a new house this morning,” Alice said after a two-minute pause. She could tell it was too long from the way the man fidgeted. Oh well. Awkward Alice strikes again!
“This is just to get a sound level, love. Could you go into a bit more detail?”
Alice jerked back at his use of the endearment and fiddled clumsily with her padded gloves while she regained her composure. She didn’t understand why the local news were making such a big deal of this.
Having bees in the red zone to take advantage of the fruit trees fascinated Alice but she knew other people seldom appreciated the subjects of most interest to her. Still, he’d asked. “I don’t really know what to say. They’re here now, and so long as the bees get a nice chance to adapt, they’ll do fine. I’ve given them a treat of sugar syrup to take into the hives, and the forager bees are already exploring their new environment. Look.”
Alice pointed at a worker bee, wending its way through the air en route to a full day of toil. Her streamlined body showed she was just setting out—when the bee returned home to the hive her leg sacks would be bulging.
“These bees flying about here can carry up to half their own body weight in pollen. Because it's springtime, the fruit trees will need their visits. As the bees move from one blossom to another, they also transfer trace amounts of the pollen into the places it's needed. A third of the trees in the red zone require pollination to grow a nice crop of fruit so the hives will be a welcome addition.”
The man listened to an earpiece, his hand automatically traveling up to touch the back of the device as it vibrated with a voice. “We still need a bit more.”
He smiled while Alice kept her face lowered enough so he couldn’t make eye contact.
“It’s because of the outdoor setting,” the presenter continued. “The wind makes it difficult to get a good level.” His hand went up to the earpiece again, and he nodded. “Can you tell us about the red zone?” When Alice’s face showed surprise, he pointed at his ear. “Just for the mic.”
“The red zone is the parts of Christchurch that aren’t safe for habitation after the earthquakes. The soil is prone to liquefaction and anything built here would be adversely affected in any future shakes.”
Alice turned in a circle as she spoke, appreciating how the area had sprung into life once the buildings and people were gone. Trees and bushes that owners had once kept neatly clipped and contained in their backyards now sprawled their branches in all directions. They followed the sun and leaned away from the prevailing wind to grow to their heart’s content.
If all the humans left the planet this instance, the entire world would be like that. Full of life, calmly going about its business. Nothing like the noise and pollution that followed the human population around like a cursed trail.
“Since we can’t build upon this land, the city is looking for new ways to develop the area so the occupants of the city can enjoy the natural surrounds. It makes it the perfect spot to set down my bee hives. With the girls’ help, come summer the trees here will burgeon with fruit for anybody to drop by and pick.”
“The girls?”
Alice unzipped her beekeeper’s suit and stepped out, revealing her standard outfit of leggings and a T-shirt. She’d meticulously unpicked all the clothing tags from the fabric, so they didn’t rub against her sensitive skin. If it hadn’t been for the comfortable feel of the spandex and cotton, Alice would prefer to go naked.
She looked at the starched shirt collar of the news presenter and shuddered. It wasn’t normal, what the general population got dressed in. Not normal at all.
“The worker bees in the hives are all female, so I call them the girls.” Alice folded the white suit up, then placed it on the ground on top of her hat and gloves. She ran a hand through her blonde curls to fluff them out. When she wore the helmet for too long, it flattened down with the weight and stayed glued in place with her sweat.
“Hey,” a man’s voice called out. “What are you lot doing here? This is my place. I kip just up the river.”
Alice looked up to see a man staggering along, glaring toward the camera. She guessed from his words that he was homeless, although his outfit of a T-shirt and jeans looked fairly new and clean. He had his arm raised up, as though he could shoo them all away.
“This is public land,” the presenter answered, his nose wrinkling as the man came closer. “We have permission from the council to film here this morning and talk about the beehives with this young lady.”
Alice shook her head at the last two words. She’d turned forty-five on her last birthday, not elderly yet but a long way from being young.
“What bees?” The man turned around to peer at the hives with a narrowed glance of suspicion. “I’m not sure I want bees around my place.”
“They’ll pollinate the trees around here, so you’ll have plenty of fruit to pick come summer.” Alice stepped toward the man and pasted a large smile on her face, just like her mother had taught her. “My name’s Alice Townsend, what’s yours?”
“Evander.” The man turned to the presenter, blinked rapidly, then returned his gaze to Alice, giving her a quick nod. “Evander Gabriel at your service.” He jerked his chin at the hives. “Was that you lot making that racket at the crack of dawn then? Bringing all those boxes in?”
“That’d be us,” Alice agreed. “I promise that I won’t be dropping by that early ever again. It’s just that the bees are easier to move during darkness, when they’re not out and about collecting pollen and nectar.”
“I suppose that’s all right then, if you reckon they’ll end up producing a load of free food.” Evander smiled, a cheeky grin that Alice mirrored. “And if you want me to stay for the interview as well, I’d be happy to oblige.”
That made Alice’s smile slip a bit. “The less people see this talk, the better
.”
“Okay then. I’ll be on my way.” Evander moved away, disappearing from sight along an overgrown path that traveled in the same direction as the river.
“We’ll just wait a minute to make sure he’s gone, then I think we’re good to go.” The interviewer smiled and gestured for Alice to come closer. “If you could just look into that camera there.”
Alice followed his finger and winced as she caught the eye of the cameraman behind the lens. She focused all her attention on the plastic curve of the camera, ignoring the face of the man behind it as best she could.
“We’re here in the suburb of Dallington, smack bang in the center of Christchurch’s red zone to talk with an apiarist starting up a new program to help revitalize the natural bee population.”
There were so many things wrong with what the announcer had just said Alice couldn’t help but shake her head. She caught the frown of the cameraman and froze in place. Whatever gestures came naturally to her always seemed to be the wrong ones.
“Can you tell us about moving the bee hives here today?” The news presenter turned to Alice, and she flinched and gave a cry as a boom mic sailed close to her. Thank goodness this wasn’t live TV!
Or was it?
Alice’s heart beat faster as she realized she couldn’t remember. Would she be able to ask now? Probably not. It would soon beam out across the nation if it were live. They wouldn’t have time to clip out anything she did wrong. She’d look like an utter idiot on television, and the images would haunt her until the grave.
“The bees?” the presenter prompted.
“We got them here on the back of a truck,” Alice blurted, terror widening her eyes and causing a trickle of sweat to roll down her back. “My friend, Doug—he’s a gardener—has a truck, and was happy to lend a hand. He let me strap all my girls in. I had to use the smoker a few times during that exchange.” Alice laughed and shook her head. “It upset the poor bees, but I suppose I would be upset too, if I woke in the middle of the night, had the door to my house bolted shut, then got lifted into a van and taken goodness knows where. I’m surprised they’re rallying so quickly when I think of it like that.”
Alice stared down at the ground with a slight frown. She waited for someone to tell her if that was too little, or too much. It was bound to be one or the other. It seemed to her the middle ground of ‘just right’ was a carrot that always dangled out of her reach.
“Hm. Very interesting. Can you tell us more about the project? What are you hoping to achieve?”
Not enough, then. Alice rubbed at the side of her face where the ghostly imprint of the apiary hat lingered. She pulled at a curl hanging down in front of her ear and chewed on her lip as she concentrated. What did she hope to achieve?
“The bee population has been under threat for the past few decades. I’m hoping that by introducing the bees into a more natural habitat, they’ll flourish, and the hive population will expand.”
The presenter turned his shoulder to the camera and pretended to gaze at the hives. Out of the side of his mouth, he whispered a reminder. “Look at the camera, love.”
Startled, Alice looked straight into the lens again, then flinched back as she caught the eye of the man behind it by accident. She took a step back, stumbling on the uneven ground.
“The former inhabitants left their fruit trees behind when they moved on after the earthquakes,” Alice said in a hurried voice, trying to recover from her series of faux pas. “My bees should find a lot of food sources out here and help with the crops in the coming months. Look!” She pointed to where a forager bee had just landed on the presenter’s collar and laughed. “She thinks you’re a tree.”
The television man yelped and jerked backward, flapping his hand at the collar in panic.
“No. Don’t do that!” Alice reached out, hoping to intercede before he could hurt the little creature just trying to do the only job she knew how.
Too late.
“Ow. Get it off me!” the announcer howled as one of the errant flicks of his hand crushed the tiny insect against his neck. The poor bee, with nowhere to run to and under attack, did the only thing she could and plunged her stinger into his flesh.
“Help me!” the presenter yelled, his howls growing more frantic as he danced in a circle.
Help him?
“You murderer!” Alice yelled. “That poor little bee was just trying to find some pollen, and you killed her, you great brute. I hope that sting injects enough poison to close your throat and make you regret ever coming out here. This isn’t your home, it’s hers. How dare you wander into her place of work and smash her to pieces? Killer!”
Chapter Two
“Well,” Alice’s best friend Sally said with a smile. “I guess it could’ve been worse.”
Alice put a hand over her eyes and groaned. “I can’t believe that happened, and on TV to boot. Why on earth did the station think it was a good idea to broadcast this story? If they’d just found something more newsworthy to report, it could’ve saved us all the bother.”
Sally went in behind the counter and cut Alice a large slice of honey cake. “Here you go. Eat that to take your mind off things. I’m sure by tomorrow, everyone will’ve forgotten.”
Alice wasn’t sure about that at all, but she accepted the offering and sat down at a table in the corner. The part-café part-honey-shop her friend ran was the primary distribution point for her honey. In fact, aside from some manuka varieties she experimented with for possible medical use, it was the only place.
When the interview dissolved into a disaster, Alice immediately headed to the café, knowing Sally would say something to cheer her up. They’d been friends for a long time now, staying close even with the revelations that shook Alice’s world in the past few years.
She’d always been a bit different, but it wasn’t until Alice’s old doctor retired and a new woman started at the practice, that anyone expressed an interest in exactly how different she was. After asking a few questions, the new doctor referred Alice to a psychologist, who diagnosed her with Asperger’s syndrome.
As far as Alice was concerned, the revelation came about thirty years too late to do her any good. Until she went online, that was, and found her tribe hiding out in various Facebook groups.
Women, all the same age, all displaying signs at a time when females weren’t expected to be autistic. With none of them accurately diagnosed until their forties, they’d all spent a lifetime desperately trying to fit in.
With their help, Alice had learned a lot about herself and found a new normal, shedding some of the shame of her past. Even though her parents would never know that she wasn’t just a naughty child, intent on doing the wrong thing, she’d found comfort in the shared experiences.
And Sally had been there for Alice during that period, when she sometimes didn’t know whether she was coming or going. A new supply of fresh honeycomb had been the perfect excuse to extract herself from the red zone park and head to the café when the entire scene collapsed into disarray.
“This is lovely,” Alice said with her mouth half full as Sally joined her at the table with a fresh cup of tea. “Aren’t you having any?”
“I’ve already tested out three different recipes this morning.” Sally patted her thickening waistline. “I don’t need to add anything further today!”
“I have some new ones I found on the internet.” Alice licked her fingers and pushed the empty plate away. “I’ll try baking them up this week and see how they go.”
Between the two friends, they owned and operated the café and shop, though Alice was very much hands-off on the public side of the operation. She preferred to pander to her bees and search for more delicious ways to showcase their products than to deal with the nitty gritty of the public.
“You forgot to wear the café T-shirt,” Sally exclaimed, pointing to the plain gray top Alice had chosen from habit.
Alice blushed. She’d been so worried about the move this morning and had woke
n at such an early hour she’d completely forgotten the T-shirt with the branding. The top had a glowing yellow hive with The Bumbling Bumblebee Café written front and center.
“I’m sorry,” Alice mumbled, hanging her head.
“Don’t worry about it.” Sally sat back, holding her cup between her two palms. “On second thoughts, given what eventuated on the broadcast, it’s probably a good thing.”
“Was it really that bad?” Although Sally had recorded the whole thing for her, Alice didn’t feel up to watching the show. She didn’t even like to look at herself in photographs—the thought of watching her antics on television sent a shiver down her spine.
“The part about the bees was fine,” Sally reassured her. “The bit where you yelled that the host was a killer was a bit harder to watch.”
She softened the words with a smile, but Alice still tapped the back of her hand rapidly for comfort. The action was one of her stims—a repeated gesture she used to express excitement or calm down. Now, it was definitely the latter.
“I hope the TV crew packed up and left,” Alice said. “I’d like to get back to the park and check on the girls again this afternoon.”
Sally finished up her tea and gave a laugh. “It’s like you’re a parent and the bees are your children, staying away overnight for the first time.” She leaned across and tapped the table near Alice’s hand. “They’ll be fine without you checking in on them. Once they’ve sorted out where everything is, I’m sure they’ll love their new digs.”
“I hope so.” Alice shifted on her seat and scanned the café quickly. There were only two other tables occupied, and it looked like those couples were close to finishing up and moving away. Sundays should be their busiest day, but it didn’t look like that to her.
“Should we advertise more? I think there’s enough money left in the budget.”
Sally shook her head. “We’re fine. It’s just the lull before the crowds come in. You forget that most people like to sleep in on a Sunday morning. Once it gets to eleven, the place will be packed full.”
The Buzz Kill Page 1