“A fruit basket? No, I didn’t leave you one. I’ve been here all day. Why would someone say it was from me?”
Why indeed? “I’ll look into it,” Piper said. “How is Frederico?”
“A little bit better,” Miranda said without much conviction. Piper instead heard plenty of fatigue in her voice.
“Don’t exhaust yourself,” she cautioned. “Frederico is in safe hands. You’ll want to save energy for when he wakes up.”
“I will,” Miranda promised, though the conviction once again was missing.
Piper disconnected and took a deep breath. Then she called the sheriff.
“This will have to go to the crime lab. We may not know anything for a few days.” Sheriff Carlyle had carefully bagged the entire fruit basket, including the note supposedly written by Miranda.
“Any thoughts as to who actually left it here?” he asked.
Piper shook her head. “Whoever it was waited until I was alone and occupied in the back of the shop. They could have learned that with a quick peek through the windows in the back. They also managed to slip in the front of the shop without setting off my bell. How they managed that, I don’t understand. I always hear the bell, even when I have music playing as I did.”
The sheriff walked over to Piper’s shop door. He stepped outside, pulled the door closed, then opened it a millimeter at a time. The wire Piper had attached to the door and strung across the ceiling didn’t move the bell enough to make an alerting jingle.
“It needs a brisk motion,” he said, “the kind your average customer makes when coming in. Your intruder apparently was prepared to deal with that.”
Piper shivered at the word “intruder.” She’d been alone in the shop. What if her intruder had decided on a more direct threat?
“I’ll check with your neighbors. Maybe someone saw this person carrying a fruit basket.”
“Maybe,” Piper said, though she doubted they would be so lucky. Whoever had done this had obviously planned carefully.
After the sheriff left, Piper called Will. “Hi,” she said when he picked up. “I’m in need of a strong shoulder to lean on at the moment. Got one to spare?”
Piper and Will walked into the front entrance of the Bellingham Mall, Will having overridden Piper’s offer to fix dinner for the two of them at her place. “I think a few hours away from Cloverdale would be better for you,” he’d said, and it didn’t take much urging for Piper to agree.
They ended up at a chicken and ribs place located in a side alleyway of the mall after first passing up an Italian restaurant. Piper normally loved lasagna and Chianti, but that night anything Italian held little appeal for her.
Over their meal, Will was the calm, thoughtful listener she’d known he would be as she shared her thoughts on the latest developments. The last thing she had wanted was someone who would insist she stop what she’d been involved in and hide away at Aunt Judy and Uncle Frank’s place until everything had blown over.
“I feel we’re getting so close!” she’d said.
What she needed was someone to simply hear her out, possibly help her to see the clues more clearly, and reassure her of her ability to keep herself safe (possibly with his backup) as she worked to unmask the murderer who still walked free in Cloverdale.
Will did all this and more, and by the end of the meal Piper felt 100 percent better than she had a few hours before. They passed on the cakes and pies listed on the dessert menu and went in search of ice cream cones instead, which they found in the food court not that far away. With a scoop of chocolate almond fudge for Piper and blueberry swirl for Will, they continued their stroll through the mall, fingers laced cozily together.
They wandered past shoe shops, camera shops, and computer shops, saying little but just fine with that. At the sporting goods store, though, they paused. There, in the window, was a display of soccer shoes, jerseys, and black-and-white soccer balls. Piper gazed as though transfixed.
“Does it seem ages ago that we sat in the stands and cheered for the Cloverdale All-Stars?” she asked.
“It does,” Will agreed. “And looking back it seems like a different world. The worst thing we had to deal with then was the Bianconeri player faking an injury near the end of the second game and taking the match. Now there’s a man murdered, another in a coma, and someone very dangerous still on the loose.”
Piper headed to an unoccupied bench across from the sporting goods store. “I’m beginning to have second thoughts that Francesca is our culprit,” she said.
“Even after learning about her expert racing skills?” Will asked, taking a seat beside her.
“Even after that. I’d much prefer it to be her, or even Coach Tortorelli. I can totally picture either of them running down poor Frederico and terrorizing me. But what bothers me is the thing with the fruit basket. How would either of them have known to open the door to my shop so carefully that my bell wouldn’t jingle? They’ve never been to Piper’s Picklings.”
“Hmm.” Will polished off the rest of his cone and swiped the paper napkin over his mouth and hands. “Taking those two out of the mix, though, narrows it down to someone local.” He tossed his crumpled napkin into a nearby trash basket.
“I know, and that’s regrettable. But if it is, it is.”
“So who knows your shop really well and also has the strongest motive to kill Conti?”
Piper dropped the last of her cone into the trash, having lost her appetite for the treat. “When it’s put that way,” she said, her voice pained, “the answer has to be Gerald Standley.”
After Will brought her home, Piper paced her apartment. She wasn’t the least bit happy with her statement about the most likely murder suspect. After all, she’d become involved in the first place because of her strong belief in Standley’s innocence. But the fact remained that the dill farmer knew her shop well from all the deliveries he’d made to it. He had probably the strongest motive for wanting to kill Conti, as well as one for removing Frederico from his daughter’s life.
Carl Ehlers also had a solid motive for murdering Conti. But she couldn’t remember him ever having been in her shop. She also couldn’t think of any reason he would want to harm Frederico.
She must be missing something. Gil had asked her to list the people who were aware that Piper would be on the road the night of her hospital visit, and she mentally ran down that list: Crystal, who was Carl Ehlers’s employee and could have passed it on to him; Don Tucker, who Piper herself had told over the phone; and Miranda, of course, who could have easily shared it with her father, Gerald.
After that, there were the people who were aware she was looking into Raffaele Conti’s murder: Emma Leahy and her group, which included Phil Laseter, Joan Tilley, and Don Tucker. They all seemed trustworthy. Tucker made both lists because of his job at the Cloverton Hotel as well as his involvement with Emma’s group, but Piper didn’t know of any link he would have had to Conti other than through Conti’s stay at the hotel. Francesca Conti and Coach Tortorelli may have spotted Piper at the Mariachi. Could they also have learned about her investigative activities through Don Tucker, perhaps overhearing him on the phone? Then Piper thought about Wendy Prizer.
Wendy knew that Piper was looking into the murder. Had Piper overlooked her as a possible suspect? Conti had been to Wendy’s home the night he was murdered. She’d claimed they’d left on good terms and that she’d been unaware he was married until after his death. But was she? What if she’d found out earlier and they’d argued? Piper shook her head. It didn’t make sense. Assuming Wendy had such strong feelings for a man she had only recently reconnected with, why would she kill Conti in the Standley dill field?
That led Piper back to Gerald Standley, exactly where she hadn’t wanted to be. Her phone rang. A glance told her the call was from Miranda.
“Great news,” Miranda cried. “Frederico is awake!”
Piper lit up. “Wonderful! Were you able to talk with him?”
“No, he’s still terribly groggy. But the doctors are very pleased because he was able to tell them his name! Piper, I’m so happy!”
Piper could hear that in her voice and pictured Miranda bouncing with excitement. “I’m delighted, too! Thanks so much for calling to tell me. Is there anything I can do?”
“Just say a little prayer and keep your fingers crossed that the progress continues. I’ve got to go. Got a lot more calls to make.”
Miranda rang off, leaving Piper smiling into her phone. That was certainly great news. And if Frederico could tell them soon who had tried to kill him and why, it would be even better.
29
With the shop closed on Sunday, Piper took the opportunity to drive over to Aunt Judy and Uncle Frank’s farm. She hadn’t yet told them about Friday night’s bad experience on the road. She hated worrying them but hated worse the thought of lying by omission to two of the most important people in her life. After affectionate welcomes from her aunt and uncle as well as from their dog, Jack, when she arrived (Gracie simply opened one yellow cat eye at Piper’s appearance before lazily reclosing it) Piper bit the bullet and spilled all.
“Oh!” Aunt Judy cried, her hand pressed to her cheek.
Uncle Frank looked grim and shook his head.
They looked even more concerned when Piper told them about the mysterious fruit basket.
“We don’t know yet,” Piper hurried to say, “if there was anything malicious in the fruit. It’s still being tested.” One of Uncle Frank’s eyebrows shot up, but he glanced at Aunt Judy and said nothing.
“Please don’t worry about me,” Piper begged. “I won’t be driving after dark for the time being, and I’m surrounded by people at the shop. Besides, I’m sure all this will be over with soon. Miranda called to say Frederico has come out of his coma.”
“That’s wonderful!” Aunt Judy said, a smile easing the worry on her face and Uncle Frank’s as well.
“Someone obviously wanted to keep Frederico from sharing something important,” Piper said. “As soon as he can communicate more, we’ll know what that is.”
“Oh, I so want this to be over,” Aunt Judy said.
“It will be,” Piper assured her.
She stayed awhile longer, doing her best to keep the conversation upbeat, then left before the light began to fade, taking with her the usual plastic containers of extra food that Aunt Judy always seemed to have on hand whenever Piper visited, these filled with homemade vegetable soup and slices of sweet potato pie.
Monday morning, Piper was glad to further share the news of Frederico’s improvement with any and all who entered Piper’s Picklings. Even the very few who hadn’t been aware of the situation were pleased to hear of the upswing in a very serious condition.
“I’ll take a loaf of my fresh-baked bread over to the young man,” eighty-something Mrs. Teska said. “Along with your apple butter,” she added, reaching for the jar with a bony, age-spotted hand. “As soon as I bake the bread, that is.”
“That would be great, Mrs. Teska, but I wouldn’t hurry,” Piper said. “Frederico has more recovering to do before he can fully appreciate a treat like that.”
Piper had called Gil with the news as soon as she saw his shop lights go on, and he stopped over during a quiet time, coffee mug in hand and a smile on his face.
“Any further updates?” he asked.
“Nothing yet. I gathered the progress will be very gradual.”
“Progress is progress. We—and he—will just have to be patient.”
Piper realized Gil didn’t know about the fruit basket, and she told him then. His smile faded. “How soon before they know if there was anything dangerous in the fruit?”
“The sheriff said a few days.”
“That’s very worrying. I don’t like the idea of you here by yourself. Whoever left that fruit—and I think we have to assume it was left with malicious intent—is bound to know by now that the attempt failed. What might they try next?”
“Sheriff Carlyle has promised to have his deputies keep an eye on my place.”
“That’s good, but we both know the limits of that.”
“It’ll be fine. We know this person is intent on remaining undiscovered. He—or she—won’t try anything blatant. As long as I keep to the front of the shop where customers are always popping in, I’m certain nothing bad will happen. And all my doors have double locks for after hours.”
Gil looked unconvinced but said, “I will check on you regularly. And I’ve just decided to spend the night at my shop.”
“Don’t do that,” Piper cried, but Gil waved away the protest.
“I won’t be sleeping on the shelves, you know. There’s quite comfortable accommodations upstairs, which Nate once used, you’ll remember. It will save me driving back and forth, and you can reach me anytime, if needed.”
Gil had a determined, no-arguments look on his face, so Piper simply sighed. “If it makes you happier,” she said. “I hope the bed up there is comfortable.”
“It is. Hopefully, I won’t need to use it very long.”
Piper sincerely hoped so as well.
That afternoon, Piper got another call from Miranda. “They’ve moved Frederico out of critical care to the observation unit.”
“That’s good, right?”
“Very good. It means they think he’s doing so much better that he doesn’t need constant care.”
“Great! Have you spoken with him yet?”
“Just a little. This location change happened with plenty of hustle and bustle and he’s resting now. But he definitely knew me. He smiled, and he almost got my entire name out! With the therapy they’ll be starting soon, I know he’ll be so much better.”
Piper was pleased to hear that and said so. She was also glad to hear that Miranda planned on heading home for a rest of her own. To Piper that was an even better sign of Frederico’s improvement—that Miranda was comfortable with leaving him for a while.
When Emma Leahy stopped in a little later, Piper shared that news.
“Excellent!” Emma cried. “I’ll let the others in our group know.” Then she grew serious. “Have they allowed that coach, Tortorelli, and Francesca Conti to visit?”
“I don’t know. I saw several team members at the hospital when I was there, but I didn’t see those two.”
“I don’t think either of them should be allowed within a hundred yards of the boy, do you?”
“I won’t argue that it could be for the best, but I’m not sure the sheriff has grounds to do that.” Piper didn’t share her recent doubts of the Italian couple’s guilt, and she definitely didn’t mention her worries that without Francesca and Tortorelli in the mix, Gerald Standley moved up to first place. She might be very wrong on both counts, though she hoped to be wrong at least about Standley.
“Perhaps Carlyle can come up with something,” Emma said. “The more I think about keeping those two away the stronger I feel. Especially now that you tell me Frederico will be much less watched.”
“Perhaps the best thing would be to put a guard on Frederico’s room?”
“Good idea. I’ll go see Carlyle about that right now.”
Emma turned and took off, a determined look on her face, though Piper wondered how much success she would have with her mission. As Gil had reminded her, the sheriff’s department was limited and probably stretched thin. Then she thought of Ben Schaeffer.
Ben jumped at the idea, as Piper had expected he would. “I’ll run it by the sheriff,” he said. “But I think he’ll okay it.”
“That’d be great, Ben,” Piper said. She’d explained some of her reasoning as to why Frederico needed protection but was nonspecific about from whom, not having any confidence at that point about naming names. If Ben, however
, simply kept everyone except hospital staff away, Frederico would be fine. Now Sheriff Carlyle had only to approve Ben’s being there. Piper hoped that the pressure from Emma Leahy followed by Ben’s timely willingness to step in would seal the deal, and she was right. By late afternoon, Ben called with confirmation.
“I’ll be heading over to the hospital as soon as I change into my uniform,” he said. “Luckily, I have Leila here to take care of a few things while I’m gone and then close up. She’s been a fantastic help.”
“Great,” Piper said, though with mixed feelings. She could hear the enthusiasm in Ben’s voice and hoped it was mainly due to his upcoming auxiliary officer duty.
Piper felt better, knowing that Frederico would have added security overnight. She wished she’d thought of suggesting that Ben take along a thermos of strong coffee, but if he didn’t think of it himself, there were always the vending machines at the hospital.
She dealt with a few more customers before closing time, then locked the front and back doors and went around checking the windows. Satisfied, she trudged up the stairs to her apartment, more than ready to kick off her shoes and grab a little dinner. Her phone rang, and Piper pulled it out, expecting it to either be Will, Aunt Judy, or Gil Williams checking up on her. To her surprise, it was Emma Leahy.
“Piper,” Emma said, her voice breathy.
“What’s wrong?” Piper asked, having heard the stress in that one word.
“It’s Don Tucker,” Emma said. “He’s been taken to the hospital.”
30
Emma’s words snapped Piper out of her end-of-day fatigue. “What happened?” she cried, imagining Don Tucker in the kind of road accident she herself had narrowly escaped. Emma’s answer, however, shocked her more.
“He may have been poisoned.”
“Poisoned! What do you mean? How could that happen?”
License to Dill Page 20