by Tonya Kappes
“Sure. Let me grab it. Hold on.” There was a short pause before she came back. “Did you say you were in Honey Springs because Fred wouldn’t give us any information?”
This immediately took Asian Market and Angela off the list of potential suspects who could’ve taken Bertie.
“He’s very private.” I left it at that. “What were the numbers again?” I still wanted to find out.
“We are going to offer two hundred per egg. We know they are worth twice that but we have to have a profit too. We will come and pick them up from the orchard every six months. And it’s exclusive.”
“Thanks, Angela. I’ll be in touch soon.” I quickly clicked off before she could say another word.
I texted Patrick to let him know about Asian Market and to cross them off the list.
It was prime morning coffee time. The blenders were buzzing. Emily was making all the specialty coffees while Bunny took the orders and rang up the customers. I grabbed the envelope Joanne had left and wanted to see what else I could learn about the chicken before I called Saigon Market, the next Asian market on the list.
Interestingly enough, the Ayam Cemani was the most sought after chicken. They were all black including their organs. Some people believed magical powers come with the chicken because of the all black, which made them even more of a hot commodity. Joanne had circled different articles she’d copied that showed the differences in the cost of the eggs. The range was between two hundred and five hundred dollars. The chicken lays twenty to sixty eggs every three to six months. No wonder the Asian Market wanted exclusivity. They could charge whatever they wanted and monopolize the market around the area.
“Hi,” I greeted the man who answered the phone at the Saigon Market. “This is Roxy Bloom, Fred Hill’s assistant. I’m calling about the email concerning the Ayam Cemani eggs.”
It was clear that the markets probably didn’t want the chicken. They wanted the eggs. At even two hundred dollars a pop, Fred could easily pay the back taxes he owed the IRS.
“Aw, yes the eggs.” The man didn’t sound as upbeat as Angela. If I were really selling the eggs, I’d take her deal hands down only because this guy was crabby. “What? He’s coming back with another offer?”
“I can’t seem to get into my computer and read my notes about your last conversation with Fred. Can you give me a rundown of your conversation?” I asked.
“Sure. Your boss only wants to split the number of eggs the Ayam Cemani lays. That’s not how my people like to have the eggs. They are sacred and not to be split up. When I began to ask him questions about the size of the eggs and the color, he didn’t seem to know what I was talking about.” The man hesitated. “Listen, lady. I don’t have time to chase fake eggs. Either he can answer my questions or not.”
“Great. Thanks for your time.” I hung up the phone and texted Patrick, again.
Obviously Fred saw how much the eggs could sell for, the IRS was nipping on his heels and he didn’t have six months to wait for another batch of eggs from Bertie to lay. He was running out of time. Poor Jean. My heart felt so sorry for her. Then it hit me. Immediately I dialed Patrick.
“Hey, I’m just pulling up to TJ’s house,” he answered.
“Listen, I have to know everything about you. Why’d you stopped being a cop? What has happened to Jean isn’t going to happen to me when I’m their age.” I gulped back the tears.
“Roxy, where is this coming from?” There was concern in his voice. “I love you.”
“Fred loved Jean too. He kept his IRS debt from her. Now her home, the only home she knows is about to be pulled out from under her. He was someone she didn’t know.” The tears fell down my face. I reached over for one of the muffins that just had come out of the oven and started to stuff my face. “I honestly can’t live like that.”
“I completely understand,” he tried to comfort me. “I can come by tonight and I’ll let you ask me anything and I’ll tell you anything that I think you need to know.”
“Now I feel stupid for getting so upset.” I wiped the tear from my face and ate the rest of the muffin. “It’s only because I’ve talked to those markets Fred was trying so desperately to sell eggs to without Jean knowing and all of the sudden I put myself in her shoes.”
“I stopped being a cop because there was a drowning of a child from one of the summer citizens. It bothered me that I couldn’t save her. It was then that I realized I wasn’t happy. Construction comes naturally to me. Could you imagine ever going back to being a fulltime lawyer?” he asked.
“No.” I wished he were in front of me so I could hug him. “Thank you for telling me about the drowning. I know it had to be hard for you.”
“I love you. I’m an open book for you. I’m actually surprised that you didn’t go sleuthing into why I had quit.” He laughed. “But I think you leave your skills to find killers.”
I laughed. “Go talk to TJ. I’m heading to the bank to talk to Emily’s father who is the loan officer there.”
“That’s a gift in the hand,” he noted.
“Yes it is. I can’t wait to see what he says about Fred.” We gave each other our “I love yous” and hung up.
“Are you sure you got it all under control?” I asked Bunny.
“I always do and now that Emily is here to help, I’m gonna feel a lot safer with that murderer on the loose,” Bunny said. “I’d heard that someone had broken into Pet Palace while you were there. I’m glad you’re okay, but you’re not a lawyer anymore. Now the killer is after you for snooping.”
“I’m not snooping.” Her words caused me to think about my activities over the past couple of days. “I’ve just been at the wrong places at the wrong times.”
No matter how much I tried to forget her words, I found myself looking over my shoulder throughout the day.
Seventeen
The warm summer weather really did bring out people. Most of the year-round citizens drove their bikes since Honey Springs was a small town. It was unusual for me to drive my car and it took me a minute to find a good parking space that was central to not only Honey Springs National Bank, but also the courthouse where I needed to check on the status of my licenses as well as the real estate office.
Central Park was located in the middle of downtown. The sidewalk around it and different sidewalks leading to the middle of the park where a big white gazebo was, were full of people standing and talking. Even the dogs on leashes seemed to be having a good time.
The flags Mom had hung on the dowel rods from carriage lights were so pretty dotting all of the downtown sidewalks. The spring daffodils that had popped out of the soil around the park in the spring were now replaced with marigold, daisies, lilies, and a few wildflower beds. The Garden Committee had always taken great care of the landscape in and around Honey Springs.
The courthouse was the tallest building and was located in the middle of Main Street. No matter where you stood on the courthouse lawn, the views of Central Park were amazing.
The medical building where the dentist, optometrist, podiatrist, and good old-fashioned medical doctors were just a block over from the courthouse and beyond that was Honey Springs National Bank. A couple of blocks on the other side was where Doris Blankenship had her real estate office and two blocks behind Main Street was a neighborhood where most of the people who worked in town lived. Aunt Maxi’s house (the one she said she’d sell to Mom) was in that area.
If I had time, I’d walk over there to see if they were still there checking out the house.
The Honey Springs National Bank was a typical bank. The old concrete floor played a huge role in the ability of your voice to echo and bounce off the walls. When I came in the door, everyone stopped to stare. There were two large glass offices on the right and a teller line straight ahead. One of the doors had a sign that said loan office. There was a balding man sitting behind the desk. When we made eye contact, I offered a friendly smile and held up a to-go cup of Mom’s lavender coffee, which was our
biggest seller at the moment, and a couple of my apple honey crisps in a bag in the other hand.
“Can I help you?” the man asked.
“Hi, I’m Roxanne Bloom.” I held the cup and bag out to him. “My friends call me Roxy. Are you Emily’s dad?”
“Yes. Evan Rich.” He nodded and his eyes popped open like he knew who I was. “Thank you for giving her a fulltime job this summer. I hope she was on time for her first day.”
It was still noticeable that everyone was looking at us, and thanks to the echo, they were listening to our conversation.
“Yes. She’s amazing.” I pointed into his office. “Can we go into your office?”
“Sure.” He stepped aside and let me go first. He closed the door behind us. “Thank you for the treats. I smell why Emily likes it there so much.”
“Oh I don’t think it’s the smell as much as her talent in the kitchen.” It was my opening to talk to him about Emily and about the plans she has for her life. “She’s a wonderful baker. In fact, that apple honey crisp was made by her.”
He took it out of the bag and looked at it before he took a bite.
“I’m here to talk to you about a couple of things.” I was talking off the cuff but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. “I’m not a baker. I’m a coffee barista. I opened The Bean Hive because of the need for Honey Springs to have a specialty coffeehouse.”
Evan finished off the pastry and took a drink of the coffee.
“I know that Emily had mentioned to you and your wife that she’d like to skip college to go to some sort of baking school, and I have many contacts that I met while going to barista school.” He intently looked at me without giving any sort of inkling he was buying what I was selling. “Listen,” I eased up on the edge of the chair. I placed my forearm on the desk and leaned on it. “If she goes to college, it will be a waste of money. Trust me.” I rolled my eyes. “My mother wanted me to be a lawyer so bad. I did that and went into debt, which as you know isn’t a good thing.” I gestured between us. “Especially since our mutual friend, Fred Hill, was in a bit of a pickle with the IRS.”
His face relaxed and he blankly looked at me.
“But back to Emily.” I pushed myself off of his desk and sat back in the chair. “I just want you to think about her. Yes. I made great money as a lawyer but I wasn’t happy. I make good money as a barista and am super happy. Trust me, I know we need money to live on and Emily really doesn’t understand all the financials of life like me and you, but there is something to be said about how being happy and working go together well.”
“What is it you’re not exactly beating around the bush about?” He cocked a brow.
“I’d like to mentor Emily for at least a year.” I had no idea where this was coming from, but it seemed like a good idea. “I’d like to make her a temporary partner at The Bean Hive where she can get a real sense of what it’s like to run a bakery, be the baker and the boss. I suggest she do all the things an entrepreneur has to do to make it a successful business.”
His eyes narrowed. His jaw jutted backward and forward like he noodling my proposal.
“If she starts right now, at her age, she’ll be so successful and happy.” My head nodded to the empty sack that had her version of the apple honey crisp in it. My brows lifted as I waited for his answer.
“I could help her with a business loan and show her how to do quarterly taxes.” Evan was processing what I was saying and I could tell he was liking the idea. “We can even do an LLC.”
“You don’t need to worry about a loan.” The last thing I wanted for Emily was to go into debt at such a young age. “I’ve got the kitchen space and all the ingredients she needs to get through the first few weeks. She can use any of the money she makes to purchase items she might need,” I hesitated, “like fruit.” I sucked in a deep breath. “Not that I’m sure where we’re going to get fresh fruit since. . .,” I looked down for a dramatic effect and then slowly looked up at him, “Fred.”
My lips thinned in a flat smile.
“He said that he was coming in here to talk to you about the IRS and possibly take out a second mortgage. Is that right?” I asked.
“I’m not sure why you know about my meeting with Mr. Hill, but if you think his business here at Honey Springs National Bank had anything to do with his death, you can forget that. We are a very reputable establishment.” His voice had turned very stiff and rigid.
“Oh no. I’m not accusing anyone of anything. I’m friends with the Hills. Jean is very distraught and I’m also representing Louise Carlton and since,” I tilted my head back and forth, ear to shoulder, a couple of times, “she is the prime suspect,” I lied, “I’m trying to get down to the bottom of things. As well as help Jean get Fred’s estate settled.”
Now, I knew better than anyone that technically he couldn’t tell me a thing. I wasn’t executor of Fred’s estate, nor was I their lawyer. I made sure I never really said that, if it was to try to come back and bite me. I had chosen my words very carefully so I couldn’t get in trouble legally or professionally. These days, law licenses were revoked for the simplest of things.
“Well.” He leaned in over his desk. His eyes darted around the glass walls and finally fixed upon mine. “I’ll tell you one thing. That IRS thing, I think it’s a scandal. One of them internet schemes and I told him too. He said that they even called him to send a cashier’s check right away. I told him not to do that and that he needed to talk to a lawyer.”
“A lawyer?” I gulped and remembered Fred asking me if I was still a lawyer when he came to Pet Palace with Bertie.
“Another thing. When I went to pull the property valuation, there was a pending investigation on it. At first I thought it was because the courts hadn’t put the ruling in from the lawsuit with TJ Holmes. TJ came in here on Tuesday morning to withdraw a lot of money.” His lips pursed. “I asked him about the lawsuit because I wanted to try and get Fred’s paperwork. He said that the Honey Springs judge had them settle because Fred’s been farming the property all these years. TJ’s not satisfied with it. He said he got him a big city lawyer from up north and he was on his way to see him with the retainer fee.”
“Tuesday morning?” I asked.
“Yep,” he confirmed.
“Do you know what time?” I asked.
Evan used the palm of his hands and pushed himself backward. The chair rolled to the desktop computer behind him. He typed away and then pointed to the screen.
“See here. The timestamp for the teller was ten a.m.” He pointed to the screen.
“May I?” I asked before I got up, assuming he wanted me to walk over.
“Absolutely.” He motioned for me. “Do you think TJ could’ve killed him?” He looked over his shoulder.
“No, because you just gave him an alibi.” I wondered why he’d wanted Spencer to think he was at the marina doing work for Big Bib.
“I’m only letting you see this because you’re not only giving my daughter a shot, but I like Louise and my other daughter really likes Tank.” He smiled.
“Thank you, I do think Emily is going to surprise you.” Thinking of Tank automatically made me smile. “As for Tank. Your family is a perfect fit.” I took a step back and thanked Evan for his time.
On my way out of the bank, I called Spencer to fill him in on what I’d found out. Even though I knew he was going to be mad that I’d decided to look into it.
“Don’t get mad when I tell you this,” I said when I raced down the street toward the courthouse. “But TJ Holmes lied to you about where he was the morning Fred was murdered.”
“And you know this why?” Spencer asked on the other end of the phone.
“First off, Patrick and I went out on his boat and I just so happened to see Big Bib—”
“Just so happened, did you?” he interrupted me. There wasn’t happiness in his voice. “Go on. I’m listening.”
“According to Big Bib, TJ told him to confirm that he was ther
e when he wasn’t. But he does have an alibi, so he didn’t kill Fred.” I stopped talking to greet the silence from the other end of the phone. I continued, “TJ didn’t like the verdict from the judge about the whole property survey, so he’s decided to get a fancy lawyer from the city. The lawyer required a retainer. TJ came to the bank around the time you said Fred was attacked. I’m sure if you check out the law firm he hired, you’d find out he has an alibi.”
“You think?” he asked sarcastically.
“I’m sorry, but people tell me things.” I laughed. “So here’s what we know.”
The sun was so bright; I nearly knocked into someone when I was going up the steps of the courthouse.
“Sorry,” I apologized to the person I almost took out.
“Don’t be sorry.” Spencer thought I was talking to him and I let him go with it. “I wonder why he lied.”
“Maybe he thought if he told you that he wasn’t happy with the verdict and was seeking a new lawsuit, it gave him a motive because I also found out that Fred owed the IRS a large amount of back taxes.” I looked down the hall for the clerk’s office.
Ida Combs was standing next to a filing cabinet. Her hair was still up in the bun, but she had on a different pair of cat-eye glasses.
“I’ll head out to see him.” When he said that, my oh no meter went off because Patrick was going to head over there.
“Maybe you should go by the bank first and get a printout of TJ’s bank statement from Evan Rich so it shows he has an alibi and proved he lied, so you can ask him why he lied.” It was such a good response and also gave me time to get Patrick out of TJ’s house.
“Why don’t you keep the hot coffee coming while I do my job.” The stress in his voice made me pause.
“I’m sorry. I overstepped my bounds. But at least I know Louise didn’t do it.” I just had to throw that in.
“I’ll let you go.” Spencer had his fill of me.
“Wait,” I stopped him from hanging up on me. “Is Hill’s Orchard still closed? Because I need to buy his apples.”