Beware the Orchids (A Shady Acres Mystery Book 1)

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Beware the Orchids (A Shady Acres Mystery Book 1) Page 4

by Cynthia Hickey


  “Oh, dear. Well, Shelby will have to take up the slack.”

  “Seriously? Have you looked at me? How do you propose I move furniture?” I planted fists on my skinny hips. Had the woman lost her mind? “Perhaps you could hire someone from a temporary agency?”

  “Great idea!” Alice clapped her hands. “Take care of that for me.” She whirled and clomped away.

  Someone really needed to teach that woman how to walk in high heels. “Doesn’t she realize I have enough work to do?” I sighed and turned to Heath. “What would you like to eat?”

  “A little bit of anything that looks good. Thanks.” He leaned his crutches against the chair next to him.

  Obviously his injury hadn’t affected his appetite. I grabbed two plates and got in line behind a couple of women I hadn’t met yet. There had to be a way for me to meet all the residents. Perhaps an ice cream social? A place where mingling wouldn’t seem out of place.

  “Oh, Myrna. Maybelle was harmless.” A silver haired lady used tongs to pluck a couple of slices of ham from the platter.

  “Maybe not. What if losing her teeth was nothing more than a ploy to be nosy?”

  “What are you worried about? It’s not like you have any secrets.”

  “You’d be surprised what secrets I have!” Myrna stomped her foot and bypassed the other lady in line.

  “For Pete’s sake.” Her left behind friend shook her head. “I doubt she’s hiding anything important enough to kill over.” She took her plate and headed for a nearby table.

  Interesting. I filled mine and Heath’s plates with fixings to make sandwiches, grabbed single serving bags of chips and headed back to join him. “What is Myrna’s last name?” I asked, setting his plate in front of him.

  “Smith. Why?” He lifted the top of his bun and frowned. “No mustard?”

  I tossed him a packet from the basket on the table. “Who is the woman to your right with the silver hair? Don’t look!” I said as he turned his head.

  “Then how am I supposed to know who you’re talking about? That’s Ann Wilson.”

  I spread mayonnaise on the top bun of my roll. “If you were to suspect someone in Shady Acres of being capable of murder, who would it be?”

  “Hmm.” He glanced around the room. “Bob Satchett is a bit of a hot head. Came here about six months ago. Keeps to himself. Then, there’s Harry Weasley. He doesn’t talk to anyone, attend any functions, nothing. The only time you see him outside his cottage is at meal times.”

  “He looks a bit like Mr. Toad.” I clapped a hand over my mouth. “That was not nice.”

  “Apt description.” He bit into his sandwich. After swallowing, he continued, “I don’t think you should take my word for things, though. I don’t get along with Bob, so I might be a bit biased, and I know little to nothing about Harry. You need to find a way to question these people.”

  “Maybe I should just come right out and ask them if they murdered Maybelle and see how they react.” I was about to that point. The poor woman had been dead for almost three days and I knew nothing, and doubted the police knew much more. Her death might go unavenged.

  Speaking of the police… Officer Lawrence appeared in the doorway, scanned the room, and made a beeline for my grandmother’s table. He pulled out a chair and sat down. Seconds later, Grandma’s giggles reached my ears. Surely, the officer wasn’t here on a social call?

  Wait. If Grandma could get into his good graces, she might be able to siphon information. Lots of things were discovered over pillow talk, or forms of talking thereof.

  After lunch, I cleared mine and Heath’s plate and headed for the manager’s office to use Alice’s phone to call a temporary service. I didn’t have my laptop and WiFi set up yet and had no way of finding phone numbers. If Alice wanted me to do her job, then I’d use her office.

  I knocked on the door in the main building that said ‘Manager’ and entered when no one said anything. I sat at her cherry wood desk and ran my hands over the polished wood, noting that I was in desperate need of a manicure. I turned on her computer. Of course, it was password protected. I chewed the inside of my lip. If I couldn’t get into her computer, then I definitely needed the WiFi password so I could set up my laptop in my cottage.

  I shuffled through the pile of papers on her desk. Nothing but resident registrations and background checks. I stopped at Harry Weasley’s. It said he had taught fifth grade social studies at Cooper Elementary. The very same school I once taught at. I would have to check on that.

  “Find what you were looking for?” Alice stood in the doorway, arms crossed. “If you’re going to snoop, you should have at least closed the door.”

  “I wasn’t snooping. I was hoping to use your computer to find the number for a temp agency. Since that is out of the question, I need the WiFi password.” I stood, sliding Harry’s form back into the stack of papers.

  “You still haven’t read the papers I gave you. All the information you need is in there.” Alice shoved me away from her desk. She scribbled something on a post-it note. “The password.” She then typed her password into her computer and turned the screen to face me. “At your service.”

  “I’ve read most of the papers, but you keep adding to my work load. I’m exhausted when I get off work.” I found a number for a temporary service, wrote it on a post-it, and headed outside. I pulled out my cell phone and within three minutes had a promise for a general handyman to arrive at the retirement community by eight o’clock in the morning.

  I headed for the shed and grabbed my shears and a large wicker basket. I had to get some work done before Cheryl showed up or Alice complained. First on the list were the rose bushes.

  Several bushes later, my legs sported a few scratches, perspiration dotted my upper lip, and I couldn’t remember the last time I was happier. I sat on a nearby bench and guzzled from a water bottle. When I’d finished, I set the bottle on the edge of the bench and bent to retrieve my tools from where I’d set them.

  What? I plucked the top part of a set of dentures from the dirt. A little more digging revealed the bottom half. Maybelle’s teeth? If not, whose? And if they are hers, who did the ones in her mouth when she died belong to?

  Grandma and Officer Lawrence stood by the gazebo. He leaned forward and whispered something in her ear. My heart stopped when I thought he would kiss her. I shuddered, relieved when he smiled and turned away. He headed down the path toward me.

  “Here.” I held the teeth by my fingertips. “I found these. They might be Maybelle’s.”

  His brows drew together. “Her’s were in her mouth.”

  “Were they?” I wiggled my eyebrows. “What if those weren’t hers?”

  “Why wouldn’t they be? That would be stranger than…well, anything I’ve ever seen.”

  “I know I have an over-active imagination,” I said, “but what if…Maybelle wasn’t the intended victim? Huh? What if those teeth belong to someone else and she thought they were hers. They seemed large for her mouth.”

  He held out a baggie he’d pulled from his pocket. “A simple DNA test will show us.” After I dropped the teeth in, he shoved the bag into his pocket. “You’re a strange one, Shelby Hart.” He marched down the path and out the gate.

  I cupped my hands around my mouth. “You’re welcome!”

  He lifted a hand without looking back.

  “Isn’t he devine?” Grandma hugged my arm. “I think I’m going to marry him.”

  “Did he ask?” I looked at her in alarm.

  “No, but he will. I’ll make sure of it. Oh, look, there’s Cheryl. Yoohoo!” She jumped up and down waving her arms.

  “Stop before you break something.” I put a hand on her arm to restrain her.

  “Grandma!” Cheryl, almost six feet tall, curvaceous in all the right places, brunette and beautiful, rushed toward us pulling a rolling suitcase. “I’m yours for one whole week.”

  “Good.” Grandma hugged her. “You can help Shelby catch an old woman’s
killer. She’s getting nowhere by herself.”

  I rolled my eyes and made the hug a group one. “I’m making tiny progress. The cops don’t have anything either, which reminds me...” I gave Grandma a serious look. “Since you’re so cozy with Officer Lawrence, I want you drilling him—”

  “Naughty girl.” Grandma waved her finger.

  “What? No. Gross. Drilling him for information. Gee whiz, Grandma.” I put my hands to my flaming cheeks, no doubt leaving behind dirty handprints. I needed a shower. Not only to wash away the grime of my job but to wash away the mental picture my grandmother left in my head.

  Cheryl laughed. “This place is beautiful. Cottages for the residents. Flagstone walks. Must be expensive.”

  “It is.” Grandma linked her arms with us. “But worth every penny. We don’t need to cook or clean. That’s all taken care of for us. Plus, we have a handsome handyman, but I think Shelby has dibs on him.”

  “No, I don’t. I’m not interested in romance.” I glanced at Cheryl and shook my head.

  “Probably for the best,” Grandma said. “After Donald dumping you, why you’ll need time to heal. Bless your heart.”

  I slipped my arm free from Grandma’s hold. “I have to put these tools away. I’ll meet you at the cottage. I’m sure Grandma has a key.”

  “You bet I do!”

  I had no privacy with her here. None. Nada. Zilch. Still, I liked having her close. I wouldn’t mind Mom being closer, but at the age of fifty she’d be insulted, not to mention she wasn’t old enough for Shady Acres. Now, if a job became available that I could get her interested in… It was something to keep in mind.

  I stowed my tools in the shed and peeled off my gloves. I started to leave when I noticed the larger pair of shears that I would use when trimming trees was not where I’d left it. Instead of hanging on a hook, safely out of reach, it was stuck in the dirt. Over one of the handles was one of my extra gloves.

  It almost seemed as if the glove waved a warning at me.

  7

  “This is a really cute place.” Cheryl set her bags in the guest room, then turned to me with a concerned look. “How are you doing after the whole Donald thing? He struts around school like a proud peacock.”

  “Great. I like the job, I’m making friends, and gardening is therapeutic. How is the jerk, anyway, other than self-absorbed?”

  Cheryl plopped onto the sofa and, crossing her feet at the ankles, propped them on the glass-topped coffee table. “Still a jerk and dating the teacher who took over your class. Sorry. The good news is there have been so many complaints about him from parents and staff that there are rumors he may soon be moved elsewhere.”

  I hated to think ill of anyone, but knowing he might be given the boot filled me with no small amount of pleasure. “You’ve been there a long time. Have you ever heard of a Harry Weasley? He would be retired now.”

  “No, at least not in the last six years. Why?”

  “Just wondering.” I moved to the kitchen to grab a couple of diet sodas. “Everyone eats at assigned mealtimes here, unless you cook for yourself in your cottage. I still have to work while you’re here, and there’s a social mingle with finger foods tomorrow night. It might be a good time for us to do some nosing around.”

  “No suspects?”

  “I was the primary, but now that honor has gone to the handyman, Heath McLeroy. They found his glove under the body.”

  “Do you think he did it?”

  “No.” I might have hesitated in answering when Heath asked, but deep down, I didn’t think him capable of such an act.

  “I want to meet this handyman.” Cheryl smiled as I handed her a glass of soda.

  “Why?”

  “Because your voice got all warm and fuzzy when you said his name.”

  “Ridiculous.” My face heated. “I’ve sworn off men and romance.”

  “Sure you have. So, what’s first on our agenda for snooping?”

  “It’ll be supper soon. You can help me keep an eye and ear open for any mention of Maybelle.” I sipped my soda. “Without asking questions outright, I’m not sure we’ll find out anything.”

  “Then we ask outright. If someone mentions her name, I’ll act like the curious visitor who wants the scoop. What’s the worst they can do? Clam up?” She set her glass on the table and swung her legs to the floor. Her nice, shapely legs.

  I glanced at my pencil thin ones. “Let me shower and change, then I’ll be ready to head over.”

  In the master bath, I turned the shower to hot and dropped my clothes. While I knew I shouldn’t compare myself to others, I couldn’t stop from studying my body in the mirror. Small breasts, tiny waist, slim hips and skinny legs. Not even close to the curves Cheryl had. Top it off with a head of curly hair that didn’t behave and it was no wonder Donald broke off our wedding. He wanted a trophy wife. I was more like a trophy teenager. I leaned and peered at a spot on my face. Was that a zit under the dirt? Ugh. Just proved my point that I was a twenty-eight-year-old teenager.

  After my shower, I donned a summer dress with stripes and flowers, matching sandals, forgoing the rain boots for an hour or two, and joined Cheryl in the living room. She’d changed, too, into formfitting capris and a rib hugging blouse. “I hate you,” I said, grabbing my house key from the dinette table.

  “What did I do?” Cheryl frowned.

  “Look at you and look at me.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You look cute.”

  “Great. Thanks.” I stormed out of the cottage.

  “What?”

  I whirled. “You’re beautiful in anything you put on, despite your height. How many women call pull that off? Me…I’m cute. Like a little girl.”

  She covered her mouth with one hand and burst into laughter. “You have no idea how beautiful you are. Like a mischievous fairy from the forest. Tiny, mighty, and gorgeous. You ooze femininity.”

  “You’re just saying that.” My inside warmed.

  “Why else would Donald almost marry you? Don’t you notice how heads turn when you enter a room?”

  “I’ve noticed how they turn when you do.”

  “I’m an Amazon. Do you know how hard it is to find a man taller than me? Stop being silly and let’s go eat.” She put an arm around my shoulders. “Introduce me to this handyman that makes your eyes sparkle.”

  “That’s him on the crutches.” I rushed forward to open the door for Heath.

  “Who’s the gorgeous giant?” He motioned over his shoulder at Cheryl.

  “My best friend, Cheryl Leroix.” Just like that the warm feeling over Cheryl’s admiring words flew away. And, to make things worse, Heath was a few inches over six feet. Plenty tall enough to catch Cheryl’s eye.

  The three of us chose a table away from the other staff. April glared our way but didn’t say anything. How many people did she think she could shove around a table for ten anyway?

  “Who’s the woman giving us the stink eye?” Cheryl asked, choosing a seat on the opposite side of me.

  “That’s the manager, Alice. She’s a bit bi-polar.” I quickly pointed out the names I did know. “The best place to listen to gossip is in the food line.”

  “The best way to do that is to browse the food, stepping in and out of line in pretense of seeing what they have to offer. I’ll be right back.” She darted for the buffet line.

  “She’s going to set most of these old geezers’ heart into A-fib,” Heath said.

  “Yeah, she affects Junior High boys that way, too. It looks like there’s a choice of beef or chicken enchiladas. A Mexican food buffet. Which do you want?”

  He put his hand over mine, sending shock waves up my arm. “You’re a true friend, Shelby. I appreciate your help while I’m on these crutches, and not only with getting my meals.”

  “That’s why Cheryl’s here. To help me find out what happened to Maybelle.” I slipped my hand free and headed for the end of the line.

  Cheryl stopped weaving in and out and joined me
. “See that man? The one who looked as if he just sucked a lemon? He yelled at me to get my giant arse out of his way.”

  “That would be Bob Satchett. Did you learn anything?”

  “Only that Maybelle was considered not quite right in the head and folks were getting tired of humoring her odd behavior. Anyone of these people could have killed her. They aren’t infirm, seem in reasonably good health for their age, and active. It wouldn’t be hard for them to slip poison into something.”

  “That’s what I thought.” I pointed out Harry Weasley. “There’s the man who said he retired from Cooper Elementary.”

  “I’ve never seen him before in my life, but I can call the secretary and have her check the files.” She pulled her cell phone from the pocket of her pants and typed in a note.

  It was going to be a good thing to have Cheryl here helping me. Two heads were better than one and all that. Now, to solve Maybelle’s murder within a week’s time.

  Loaded down with my plate and Heath’s, making sure I gave him twice the amount I took for myself, I headed back to the table, surprised to see Grandma and Mom both sitting there. “Mom!” I set the plates down and kissed her cheek.

  “I came for dinner and to check on you and your grandmother. You look cute, dear.”

  I cringed, but kept my smile in place. “It’s great to see you. I’m going to try and get you a job here so you can live with us.”

  “No, I like my house, thank you.” She scowled. Her face brightened when Cheryl joined us. “Don’t you look pretty? What a nice surprise.”

  “Hey, Mrs. H.” Shelby sat next to Grandma. “How do you like hanging with the old folks?”

  “Who says we’re old?”

  Cheryl cast me an amused glance. “I’m here to help Shelby catch a killer. Want to make it a three-some?”

  “I’m already working on it. I have a wine date with Officer Lawrence in an hour.” Grandma wiggled her penciled on eyebrows. “I’ll get information out of that man one way or the other.”

  “Good. I need my name cleared.” Heath bit into a taco. “Anyone could have gotten my work gloves. The lock on the shed had rusted through. I replaced it the morning Shelby stumbled across Maybelle.”

 

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