Buzz Off

by Hannah Reed

  “I heard from a reliable source that you’ve been spreading that lie yourself,” I said. Finally. Some guts.

  “I don’t lie,” Patti said, narrowing her eyes. “All my facts are backed up with evidence.”

  “You are so full of it. You don’t have any proof.”

  “That isn’t the way to talk to a friend.”

  “You aren’t my friend, Patti. Friends don’t tell horrible, spiteful lies about each other.”

  “Is this the future event that you apologized for at the store? Because if it is, I’m not accepting this time.”

  I blew steam out of my nose and ears. I even saw red. “You took an innocent friendship between Manny and me and insinuated that it was something nasty and dirty. If you don’t care about my feelings, you could at least try to care about Grace. How do you think that made her feel?”

  “Grace was getting hers with that ex of yours.”

  “I know you lied about me. Are you lying about Grace and Clay, too?”

  Patti glared at me. She had her arms crossed. “I’m done talking to you,” she said. “Keep on bullying me and I’ll call the cops all right.”

  The bullying part stopped me in my tracks, because I had an aversion to bullies and wasn’t exactly sure I hadn’t been acting like one, “I’m sorry,” I said. “But you put me in a serious position when you spread that.”

  “Go away. You’re acting like a nut case. I know you’ve been through a lot lately, but don’t take it out on me.”

  I left her sitting there and headed for Stu’s.

  I needed a drink.

  Twenty-nine

  I was on my second Diet Coke.

  After heating up to the boiling point, then cooling down some on the short walk over, the thought of drinking my lunch hadn’t been nearly as appealing. Not to mention that Stu had refused to serve me.

  “I’m cutting you off,” he had said.

  “I haven’t had a drop of alcohol yet. You can’t cut me off.”

  “You’re my friend. This is my bar. I get to make the rules.” Stu gave me one of those smoldering looks of his. Then he grinned, making it hard to be angry.

  “A Diet Coke then,” I said, pretending the switch to a nonalcoholic beverage was entirely my idea. “And make it quick. How’s Becky?”

  “Great.”

  “When are you two getting married?”

  Stu opened my Coke and put it down in front of me. “And spoil our fun? No thanks.”

  As I said, I was on drink number two when Hunter strolled in the door. I couldn’t help noticing he had a sexy strut. He and Stu gave each other knowing glances, and I picked up on the message going back and forth.

  “You called him?” I accused Stu. “You told Hunter I was here? This is the last time I’m patronizing this establishment.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Stu said, flipping a towel over his shoulder and going back to work.

  “You’ve been dodging me,” Hunter said, sitting down next to me at the bar. “We need to talk.”

  “I’m all talked out, thanks to Patti. And I’m never apologizing to another living soul again as long as I live.”

  “Why didn’t you return my calls?”

  “What calls?” I said, shifting the blame to my little sister. I had been avoiding him.

  Hunter gave me a look, like he knew I was dodging.

  “Besides,” I said. “You know where to find me. If I’m not home, I’m at the store.” Which wasn’t exactly true. Since I had Holly to help out and Carrie Ann was actually showing up for a change, I was freer to come and go than I’d been in a long time.

  “Your store,” Hunter said with a snort of amusement. “That place is a hotbed of intrigue and misinformation. I wouldn’t want to give your customers even more to talk about.”

  “Not to mention that your girlfriend works there.”

  “Come on. Let’s go.”

  “Where?”

  “My place. I’d like to introduce you to Ben properly this time.”

  My heart was pounding. I shouldn’t go to Hunter’s house alone. The man was hot and sexy and so not mine.

  “You want me to meet your dog again?”

  “Humor me.”

  Hunter had ridden over on his Harley. He swung a leg across the machine, settled into the seat, scooted forward to make more room for me to climb on, waited for me to situate myself properly, and we were off.

  I loved the ride. All the sensations of the machine under me—the firm grip I had on Hunter’s waist, the smells of the countryside that you just don’t experience inside a car, the wind whipping my hair, the absolute and exhilarating sense of freedom.

  When we arrived at his house, I didn’t want to get off. Ben was in a kennel on the side, alert as usual. Hunter dismounted, opened the gate, and let him out. Reluctantly, I got off the bike.

  “Story, meet Ben.”

  “I’ve already met Ben.” Where was this going?

  “I know, but I was remiss, considering your past history and Ben’s intimidating presence. But Ben isn’t anything like the dog that attacked you. He would never hurt you.”

  Hunter had to bring that up! When I was ten years old, a German shepherd had attacked me on the street, pulling me off my bike and mauling me. I still had scars on my right thigh to prove it. Hunter knew all about it.

  “Tell Ben to sit,” he said.

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Come on, Try it.”

  “Fine. Sit, Ben.”

  Ben glanced at Hunter, then back at me. The beast sat. He watched me in case I had another command ready. I looked at Hunter, still wondering what was up.

  “Ben knows all the basic obedience commands,” Hunter said. “Sit, down, come, stay, heel. He responds to my orders one way, and to commands from others a little bit differently. He’s been trained to attack and to back off when I tell him to, but only if I give the command. That part of his job is between him and me. We’re partners.”

  “You trust him?”

  “Completely. He keys in on aggressive behavior and can read body language better than any human I know.”

  “He’s creepy,” I said. “Like he knows what I’m thinking.”

  Ben the dog didn’t move a single muscle, still waiting.

  “Try giving him another command. Tell him to come.”

  “Ben, come.”

  He came to my side and stood at attention.

  “Nice dog,” I said, impressed in spite of myself.

  “Ben has been trained to remain focused even during distractions,” Hunter said. “Crowds don’t faze him, neither do other dogs. He’s a working dog and takes his job seriously. He would never attack unless he was called to assist me in a dangerous situation. So what do you think? Can you try to work out a truce with Ben? Give him a chance to prove himself?”

  “I don’t see why it matters to you,” I said. “I’m not the one who is hanging around here with you. Carrie Ann is.”

  “Story, Carrie Ann isn’t my girlfriend.”

  That wasn’t what I expected to hear. A big fat grin spread across my face. I fought it down. “She’s not?”

  “No.”

  “But I thought—”

  “Yeah, you thought wrong. And I’d like the misconception cleared up so we can move forward.”

  “But you and Carrie Ann were riding your bike together, and she said she couldn’t come to the town meeting because she was with you. I automatically assumed you were a couple.”

  Hunter didn’t say anything for a while, then he said, “Let’s go sit down.”

  Hunter released Ben from further obedience and led me over to a wooden glider. We sat side by side not speaking, watching the dog search for the perfect spot in the sun until he found it and flopped down. My heart was doing some kind of palpitation thing and my palms were sweaty, not because I was afraid of Ben but because I realized something serious was coming. I wasn’t used to that from Hunter. He’d always been light and silly with me.

  “
Story,” he finally said, “I’ve been avoiding you ever since you came back to Moraine two years ago. You came back to town married, and I, well, I had to stay away. I couldn’t stand to see you with that creep, and to hear the stories circulating about him. I wanted to kill him with my bare hands.”

  I gulped. How had I ever walked away from this hunky man?

  “I’m sorry,” I said, racking up another apology, “if I hurt you in any way when I left Moraine.”

  “That was a long time ago.”

  “Well, I’m sorry anyway.”

  “Do you think we could give it another try? See where it goes this time?”

  Oh. My. God.

  “What about your relationship with Carrie Ann?” I wanted to know. “We haven’t quite cleared that up yet.”

  Hunter let out a heavy sigh like he was hoping we could skip this part. “Carrie Ann came to me because she wanted to stop drinking. And I said I’d help her.”

  “What could you do to help her that she can’t do for herself? I’m confused.”

  “She asked me to be her sponsor.”

  That hit me like a ton of bricks. I knew enough about AA to know that sponsors were recovering alcoholics themselves. That meant Hunter had his own personal demons to deal with.

  “Nobody told me you were a recovering alcoholic.”

  “I’ve been sober more than ten years. It’s old news.”

  “Did I do that to you?” I said, thinking maybe he’d found solace in a bottle after we split up. “Did I drive you to drink?”

  Hunter laughed. “No. Don’t you remember how much I drank in high school?”

  “We all did.”

  “Yes, but everybody else slowed down or quit altogether. I couldn’t stop. Finally, I took the big step and joined AA.”

  That explained the close connection between Hunter and Carrie Ann in a way I could understand. “So you were at an AA meeting together the night of the town meeting?”

  “Yes. It’s an important step for Carrie Ann, admitting her problem and attending these first meetings.”

  “Someone said they saw you making out with Carrie Ann,” I said, figuring I better get everything out in the open.

  Hunter laughed. “Let me guess. Patti Dwyre?”

  “So it’s true.”

  “Not at all. Patti saw me giving Carrie Ann a hug of encouragement and she misinterpreted it.”

  Figures! “I can’t stand that woman,” I said.

  “She’s a real trip to the beach, isn’t she? But tell me about the town meeting.”

  So I did—about how the topic of killer bees went absolutely nowhere because of the false alarm, and about moving my bees to a safe location without revealing where. I also told him about Manny’s missing journal and the elusive, possibly nonexistent, Gerald Smith. And about Stanley Peck’s sudden interest in beekeeping.

  “Bees all across the world are being affected by Colony Collapse Disorder,” I explained to Hunter. “And honey producers have seen big declines in their bee populations. Manny and I were lucky we didn’t have to deal with CCD, at least not yet. Bee colonies are going for premium prices, and I think this Gerald Smith, who might even be Stanley for all I know, stole Manny’s beehives and now he wants Manny’s journal because it has all his research notes in it. I need to find it first.”

  “But the man isn’t stealing if Grace sold them to him. Just because you can’t find him doesn’t mean he isn’t legit. Maybe you should let it go and move on.”

  “How would you feel if someone took Ben?”

  “That’s different.”

  “No, it isn’t. Getting up every morning and remembering that all the bees Manny and I raised have vanished feels exactly the same as if someone took your dog. It left a big empty hole in my life.”

  “Are you telling me you’re emotionally attached to those bees?”

  “Of course! They aren’t just a business. You train police dogs, right? Are the dogs you work with simply weapons to you?”

  “I see your point. Tell you what, I’ll see if I can find the guy for you.” Hunter’s leg rubbed against mine. He’d moved nearer, put an arm around me, pulled me closer. “So what do you say? Are you willing to try again? Pick up where we left off?”

  “What about starting slow?” I had some healing to do before I dove into the relationship waters again without knowing exactly how deep they were. The last time, with Clay, I’d hit my head hard. Trusting a man again, even one I’d grown up with, would take time and effort.

  “You don’t even know me anymore,” I said to Hunter.

  “I know you.”

  “I’ve changed.”

  “For the better.”

  A pause, while I absorbed that last comment, not sure it was altogether complimentary.

  Then he said, “Slow is okay with me. I’m not going anyplace fast.”

  And that’s how, in the middle of rumors flying everywhere and dead bodies appearing too close to home for comfort, I ended up with a hot, sexy almost-boyfriend.

  Unfortunately, when Hunter dropped me back at The Wild Clover and took off, I found Carrie Ann tied up and the cash register empty. We’d been robbed in broad daylight.

  Thirty

  Here’s how it had gone down:

  • Holly had called the store to say she’d be late coming in, so Carrie Ann stayed on to cover for her.

  • During a lull in business, someone snuck up behind Carrie Ann and struck her on the head with enough force to knock her unconscious.

  • She woke up to find herself tied to a shelving unit in the back room.

  • When Carrie Ann heard noise from the front of the store, she called out for help.

  • No one responded, but she heard someone hurrying past the back room, then a door slam.

  • Holly arrived to find the front door locked. Since she had keys, she was able to open the door, but didn’t see anyone inside the shop.

  • Holly found Carrie Ann in the back room.

  • I arrived on the scene in time to help her untie Carrie Ann, then called 9-1-1 while Holly applied ice to Carrie Ann’s head.

  • Holly discovered the empty cash register, which we estimated had contained four to five hundred dollars, counting the two hundred in various bills the drawer contained at the beginning of the day.

  • Police Chief Johnny Jay chalked the whole thing up to a random robbery.

  • Waukesha County and Moraine law enforcement were on high alert, but without a description, they didn’t have much hope of apprehension unless the criminal struck again.

  • End of story.

  Except it wasn’t that simple. Nothing ever is.

  “If I’d been here like I should have been, instead of out at Hunter’s house, Carrie Ann wouldn’t be in the hospital with a head injury,” I said to Holly.

  “IMO (In My Opinion), if I hadn’t been late,” Holly said, “I’d have been here and creamed the guy with one of my special moves.”

  Okay, then. Both of us were having guilt pangs, blaming ourselves for what happened to Carrie Ann.

  “She’ll be all right,” I said. “All our family members have thick skulls.”

  “The way she was joking around with the paramedics, she’ll live,” Holly agreed.

  Holly had been leaning against the counter. She straightened up. “What were you doing out at Hunter’s?”

  “Nothing much.”

  Holly stared into my eyes and sucked out the truth. Or close enough. “You’ve got the hots for him!”

  “I do not.”

  “Liar. I can see it in your eyes. Is he your BF (Boy Friend) now?”

  “Here comes a customer. Time to get busy. We’ll talk later.”

  I hid out among the shelves, straightening, putting in order the only things in my life that I could control at the moment. I felt the weight of responsibility.

  “She’s going to be just fine,” I said to one customer after another, trying to reassure myself as much as them.

  “You t
ell that police chief you need extra protection here,” one suggested. “He should do more drive-bys.”

  Hunter called, having heard the bad news. I reassured him that I was fine and Carrie Ann would be, too. We made a date for Saturday night. He said he’d pick me up at seven at home, not at the “bed of intrigue,” as he called the store.

  The attack on Carrie Ann was foremost in my mind, of course, and every time I had a second, I worried over it.

  Would it have taken place at all if both of us had been at the store? Probably not, was my guess. Knocking out a lone woman was much easier than incapacitating two people at once. And getting the timing right would have been harder.

  So how did this person know that Carrie Ann was alone?

  People had been coming and going from the store all morning. Every single customer could have noticed that Carrie Ann was working alone.

  Holly raised another big question. “Why didn’t the robber just grab the money and take off? If it were me, I’d have emptied the till and cleared out fast before Carrie Ann came around. Why drag her into the back and tie her up?”

  “To gain time?” I reasoned, adding jars of honey to a display. “To make a clean getaway without anyone alerting the police?”

  “MOS!” Holly suddenly called out.

  “MOS?”

  “Mother over shoulder!”

  I cracked my head against the display shelf coming up, then spotted Mom right behind me.

  “Oh, hey.” I straightened up, rubbing the sore spot and looking around. “Where’s Grams?”

  “Baking.”

  Darn! Grams was my best ally when Mom was after me. I saw Holly slink away. No help there.

  “Your cousin could have been killed today,” Mom said in an accusing voice.

  “We’re all at risk every time we cross the street,” I countered. “Besides, I feel bad enough as it is.”