Apple Cider Slaying

by Julie Anne Lindsey

  “Twenty-five?” I asked, hoping to score a smile.

  Instead, she appraised me blankly. “Wait twenty years, you’ll see.”

  The words no thanks came to mind.

  I adjusted my ball cap and fell back into formation with the others, now significantly ahead of me. I’d never had a normal conversation with Mrs. Cooper, but she hadn’t struck me as an outdoorswoman, a health nut, or someone who valued natural beauty in her high-end, too-tight apparel and bouffant hair. Clearly, this group knew things I would have never guessed about my former neighbor, and I wanted to know everything I could.

  Forty harrowing minutes later, we arrived at the falls, and I slumped against the hillside sucking the dregs of water from my bottle. I waited while the trail master, Oscar, led the others down to the falls to bask in the cool spray of misting water. I’d taken enough chances already this morning. There was no way I was trusting my life to a hundred-year-old handrail and two dozen wet stone steps. When Oscar started back up, I waved him closer.

  “Hi,” I said as pertly as possible given my thoroughly exhausted and barely verbal condition. Sweat had plastered my clothes to my skin and glued strands of lifeless flyaway hair to my neck, cheeks, and forehead. “Do you mind if I ask you a few questions about Nadine Cooper?”

  Oscar’s brows knitted together. He crossed his arms and widened his stance before me. “What about her?”

  An odd way to start, I thought. Not with any sign of grief or regret for her premature demise or even shock at the horrific way she’d gone. Just a defensive stance and gravelly retort. What about her?

  I backpedaled mentally in search of the common ground between us, then gave him a small, understanding smile. “Mrs. Cooper loved to yell at Granny,” I said. “Sometimes it seemed as if she enjoyed it. Her complaints about Granny’s offenses were so constant that they might as well have been on her weekly to-do list.” I plucked a long blade of grass between my thumb and finger, twirling it absently as I watched Oscar’s shoulders relax. “I knew her as all fire. All the time. I hear that you got a little taste of that last week.” I lifted my gaze to meet his. “Is it true the two of you argued?”

  He didn’t answer right away, but I could see the truth of it on his brow.

  “What was that fight about?”

  Oscar’s grimace deepened. “It wasn’t a fight. It wasn’t even a disagreement. It was an ambush,” he said.

  That sounded like the Mrs. Cooper I knew. “How so?”

  He released a small sigh, peered over the hill toward the other hikers, still gathered in the mist below, then took a seat beside me in the grass. “Nadine was usually all smiles and bubbles here, but it wasn’t out of kindness,” he said. “She was always bragging. Always boasting. Her life was always grand and great and perfect. It got on my nerves, and she rarely bothered with me. I’m sure it made the others nuts.”

  “Why?”

  Oscar stared past me for a long beat, then plucked a blade of grass for himself. “Some of these folks come here to get away from their problems, their insecurities and disappointments. Nadine made it very difficult for any of us to find a moment of peace even out here in God’s country.” He took his hat off and scrubbed a heavy palm over sweaty hair. “She came all gussied up. Fancy exercise gear and shoes. Hair just right. Makeup on. It all looked very natural, but no one’s skin is that taut and perfect at her age, and I know her age. She was the mother of a school friend of mine once a upon a time, and I’m forty-six years old. I swear she came here in search of worshippers. Looking for people to praise her.” He screwed the hat back over his heavily lined forehead and slouched forward, pulling his knees closer to his chest and wrapping them in thin hairy arms. “I tried to ignore her. She usually focused her efforts on the ladies. Then, last week, out of nowhere, she sauntered up to me during our break and asked what was in my trail mix. I told her, then she started complaining about all the preservatives in my store-bought oats. I moved away from her, but she followed. She seemed repentant, then complimented my tan. She wanted to know how I was maintaining the color so late in the year, so I told her.” He gave me a curious look. “You know the new spray tan place in the back of the bakery?”

  “Sunny Buns?”

  “Yeah. They’re really good over there and the baker throws in a bag of pepperoni rolls every ten visits if you complete your punch card.”

  “Nice.”

  He nodded. “I think so. Nadine didn’t. She flipped out, complaining about chemicals again. When I wouldn’t let her convince me to stop tanning, she stormed off. It was the craziest thing I’d ever seen, and she left me there, holding the bag, so to say. Everyone was looking, wondering what I’d done to upset her.” He shrugged. “I eat food from the Piggly Wiggly and get a tan at the bakery. Those are my crimes.”

  Oscar stretched back onto his feet and called the group together. It was time to head home.

  The return trip was moderately less terrifying. I stayed close to the mountain again and kept my eyes on the ground to avoid stubbing my toe and rolling into the river, but I had to admit the experience had been surprisingly exhilarating.

  I mentally replayed my conversation with Oscar all the way back to Sally. Mrs. Cooper had complained about the chemicals in his spray tan, and it bugged me. I couldn’t quite put my finger on why until I said my goodbyes and tossed my backpack onto the passenger seat. The evergreen I’d parked in front of was totally brown, long dead but still standing and suddenly reminding me of the sickly yellow leaves Mr. Sherman had noticed on our walk through the orchard. Could the apple trees have been sabotaged with chemicals? I’d recently seen a documentary on the upsides and downfalls of using pesticides on crops, and a clear downside was that if not applied properly, pesticides could become a problem for the plants themselves.

  But Granny didn’t use pesticides.

  “Miss Montgomery,” Oscar called my name before I pulled the driver’s side door shut behind me.

  “Yes?” I turned with a smile and climbed back out to meet him.

  He hurried away from a clutch of lingering hikers, a look of excitement in his eyes.

  “There was one other thing,” Oscar said, stopping near Sally’s trunk. “Jenny says you’re here because you want to find out what happened to Nadine.” He shifted his gaze nervously. “It makes sense that you asked me about our argument, but I never saw Nadine again after that day. I don’t want you to think we had some big blowout and I went looking for her days later to settle the score.”

  I lifted my eyebrows. Had I given him that impression?

  “I watch television. I know how this works.”

  “Then, you’re ahead of me,” I said. “I’m just trying to gather information about who she was when she wasn’t aggravating Granny. I didn’t come here thinking you hurt her.”

  He pressed his lips tight, clearly on the fence now that I’d announced I didn’t think he was a killer.

  I squirmed under the scrutiny, hoping he wouldn’t change his mind about whatever he’d come to tell me. “If there’s anything else you can think of that might help point me in the right direction, I’d really appreciate it.” I softened my smile and used my best do the right thing tone. “Any idea at all about who might’ve been angry enough to hurt her?” I let the notion float between us.

  Oscar shoved his hands deep into his front pockets. “Maybe. I think she’d been upset with someone else the day she yelled at me.”

  “Really?” I asked. “Who?”

  “I’m not sure, but I overheard her on a phone call before we got started. She was holding us up, so I went over to let her know we had to get started with or without her. That’s when I heard a snippet of the conversation. Completely unintentionally, of course.”

  “Of course,” I agreed as sincerely as I could. “What did you hear?”

  “I think she was breaking up with a boyfriend,” he said. “She told whoever was on the line that it had been a tough choice, and they’d been together a while now, but sh
e couldn’t get past their disagreement, so she had to let him go. Then she flat out said she’d already started seeing someone else. I pretended not to hear, but she probably knew I had. I think that’s why she picked that fight. She wanted to make me as mad as she was. I can’t otherwise see why she’d care what I ate or how I got tan.”

  I nodded. “Thank you. I think that’s going to be very helpful,” I said. “Any specific ideas who she was on the phone with?”

  “Not a clue,” he said, “and that’s all I know.” Oscar raised both hands in a gesture of surrender and walked away.

  I dropped behind Sally’s wheel and smiled. If Oscar was telling the truth, a spurned boyfriend might have had reason to lash out at Nadine, and if Oscar was lying, I could only think of one reason for it. He knew I was looking for her killer, and he wanted to throw me off the trail. Either way, I’d taken one hike and come back with two potential suspects, neither of which were Granny.

  I called that success.

  CHAPTER SIX

  My mind raced all the way home. Had Mrs. Cooper been keeping a secret boyfriend? If so, it would fit with the gossip I’d heard at the diner. Hadn’t someone accused her of seeing a married man in Winchester? Maybe that was true after all. Maybe she’d even dumped him for another man. It was all very juicy and suspect. As was most of the rumor mill’s products. I longed to tell Sheriff Wise what I’d learned, but I couldn’t go to him with unsubstantiated information. Could I? He’d told me not to interfere. Then again, I wasn’t interfering. I was gathering information. I was helping. And now I needed help.

  The sheriff had a better chance of getting to the bottom of an alleged love triangle than I did. A love triangle was definite grounds for heightened emotions. Two men, one woman. Three hearts. I’d seen it on Granny’s soap operas a thousand times. The man she’d dumped was probably angry, but was he angry enough to lash out? Hurt her? Worse? I suppose that depended on the man. So, how could I know who this man was? In another town. In another state. Two more good reasons to let the sheriff take it from here. Except, I didn’t want him scolding me again. Maybe I could call in an anonymous tip.

  I repositioned my hands on the steering wheel and sailed around the next bend, anxious to get home. I wondered what Granny had learned while plying her stitching ladies with cider and sweets. I wondered if the man Mrs. Cooper had dumped the first guy for lived in Blossom Valley. If he did, it seemed the kind of thing someone around me would know. Surely one of them had told someone. A neighbor, family member, or friend. Someone must’ve seen them together. It was nearly impossible to do anything in Blossom Valley without someone taking notice. Except commit murder, I thought wryly.

  I turned up the long gravel drive, enjoying the pine green and twinkle lights wrapping the fence on either side, and I slowed at the arching orchard gates. The sheriff had relented his position as guard dog since I’d left. I couldn’t wait to ask Granny about him. How long had he and his deputies stayed today? What had they found? I recalled Sheriff Wise and his men, scouring the grounds of our orchard, literally looking up the wrong trees. I hoped Granny had gotten some new information today too. If she and I each found a little thread to pull, we could unravel this business in no time.

  I parked Sally and hurried to Granny’s place on weak noodle legs, rubbing the tender muscles in my neck and shoulders. I needed a shower worse than I needed oxygen, but curiosity drove me past my little house.

  Movement in the trees caught my eye, and I stutter-stepped. A smattering of officers fanned through the rows of trees, most crouched on the ground, closely examining the dirt. Still looking for a smoking gun or maybe tire tracks. I watched for signs of Sheriff Wise. I was still mad at him for thinking Granny was a killer and implying I was an accomplice. I also didn’t want him to see me looking like I’d gone over Emerald Falls head first without a barrel. Or a bar of soap. When I was sure the coast was clear, I darted up the steps and into Granny’s kitchen.

  I locked the door behind me and checked the front window to be sure I wasn’t followed.

  “Winnie?” Granny called from the living room. “Is that you?”

  “Yeah.” I poured a glass of ice water and wrenched the hat and elastic band from my hair. “I had to hike all the way to the falls, but you wouldn’t believe what I found out about Mrs. Cooper,” I said, raking sweaty fingers through ratty, matted hair. I looked at my reflection in the window above the sink and tried to fluff the flattened mess to no avail. The unruly mass responded by standing in a big grubby halo around my sticky face and neck. I sighed and gave up, refocusing on what was most important. “According to the trail master, Mrs. Cooper had a secret b—” I stopped short as the sheriff’s reflection appeared over my shoulder in the window glass.

  I spun around, one hand on my constricting chest.

  He scanned my tragic appearance with a hint of humor on his lips. “Go on,” he said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. You were saying Mrs. Cooper had a secret what?”

  I blinked. Where had he come from? Why was he here? Where was Granny? “I . . .” I started, unsure where to go from there.

  Granny eased into view, a look of apology on her face. She carried two empty mugs to the sink. “We were just having some cider,” she said, her voice sugary sweet. “Sheriff Wise noticed I had some company earlier, and he came to chase them off.”

  “I didn’t come to chase them off,” he countered, equally sweet. “I asked that the orchard be closed today for a reason. When I saw six trucks in the parking lot and my deputy said the drivers and passengers were all in here, I came to ask why.”

  “They’re my stitching crew,” Granny answered in an unusually labored tone. Clearly it wasn’t the first time she’d explained this. “The orchard is closed. Just like you asked, but you never said I wasn’t allowed company. Why would you? A terrible thing happened here, and we wanted to console one another.”

  His eyebrow ticked up. “They came to console you over the loss of an enemy?”

  “Yes.” Granny pressed her lips into a thin line. “It’s like I’ve already said. It doesn’t matter who’s feuding with whom when tragedy strikes. All that stops and the community supports one another through it. We’re neighbors first. We lost someone, and we need one another right now.”

  Sheriff Wise relaxed his stance by a small measure. He scrutinized Granny as if he wasn’t sure what to make of her. Finally, deflated, he shook his head. “I didn’t come to chase them off,” he repeated.

  “Maybe. Maybe not,” she said, “but you sure stayed until they all went home.”

  The little orange kittens raced into view and leaped onto my legs, digging their razor-sharp kitten nails into my skin beneath the yoga pants.

  “Ah!” I plucked them into my hands and cringed against the new pains in my poor legs. “Lunatics,” I whispered, stroking their fuzzy heads. “Were these two any trouble?” I asked. “Did they take their bottles?”

  “Yes.” Granny reluctantly dragged her gaze away from the sheriff. “I didn’t have any kitten food for them to try, so I scrambled up an egg and let them split it. Henrietta lays more than I can use anyway, and the egg was a hit.”

  I groaned. “I completely forgot to stop.”

  “It was no trouble,” she said.

  Sheriff Wise rubbed his forehead. “Can we get back to Mrs. Cooper’s secret? Something hidden so completely that only her hiking club knew about it,” he drawled.

  I waffled. I was glad to have the new tip, but the way he was looking at me, as if whatever I’d uncovered was guaranteed to be silly and irrelevant, made me hesitant to share.

  Granny kneaded her hands. “How about I fix us some snacks?” She opened the refrigerator and the sweet scents of fresh fruit salad wafted out.

  My stomach groaned in excitement. I took a seat and focused on the sheriff, who chose the seat across from me. “I heard that Mrs. Cooper had a fight with the trail master of her hiking club, so I went to talk to him,” I said, attempting to look casual.

>   “Go on,” the sheriff coaxed.

  Granny set one plate with a thick slice of her apple cinnamon bread before me and another before him, then centered a butter dish and knife between the plates.

  I dug in, gleefully buttering a slice of the bread as I went on carefully with my story. “I didn’t know Mrs. Cooper personally, so a hike with her club seemed like a good way to get to learn a little about her.” I paused for a bite of the dense buttered bread.

  Sheriff Wise sat back in his seat. “I specifically asked you not to do anything like that.”

  I chewed slower. As long as my mouth was full of bread, I couldn’t put my foot in it.

  “I know all about your amateur inquisition at the Sip N Sup,” he said, obviously displeased. “That was where one of the patrons told you about her hiking club, probably a member of the local card club.”

  My brows rose.

  He nodded. “That’s right. I also know you held court with Dorothy Summers and Frederick Kincaid separately, privately. In case you’re wondering, I disapprove.”

  “I wasn’t wondering,” I said, sitting taller. “Aside from news of her fight with the trail master, I also heard that Mrs. Cooper was seeing a married man in Winchester, but that’s yet to be confirmed.” I took another bite of bread, letting the moist, sugary morsels dissolve on my tongue and feigning cool when I wanted to grab the loaf and run. “I spoke to the trail master, Oscar, this morning. He said Mrs. Cooper was mad when she arrived, and she took it out on him about nothing at all.”

  The sheriff stabbed a forkful of his buttered bread with unnecessary roughness. “Go on.”

  I worked up a smile, reminding myself I hadn’t done anything wrong, then filled Granny and the sheriff in on the rest of my morning. I finished my bread in silence and waited for a response.

  Granny ferried little bowls of fruit salad to us. “Oh, that’s interesting,” she said. “Nice work. You went to ask about a fight and wound up confirming a boyfriend. Two birds with one hike.”