Town in a Blueberry Jam chm-1

by B. B. Haywood

  She stepped quickly to Maggie and lifted her, apparently in an effort to throw her over the side of the building. But Maggie would not go easily. She kicked out at Bertha and flailed at her with her arms, landing a few good punches, which forced Bertha back for a moment. But Bertha would not be denied. She backed away a few steps, then charged at Maggie in an effort to overwhelm her with power and fury.

  As Bertha came at her again, Maggie screamed and ducked, her right leg going wide. Bertha stepped on it and lost her balance, just as Maggie came up, trying to throw Bertha off her. Bertha tumbled in the air, her momentum sending her up and over...

  Her legs went over the far side of the railing first in an arc as her body dropped heavily. But her arm swung out and she managed to hook the top of the railing with her armpit. She pulled herself back in toward the widow’s walk and bounced, her chin slamming into the railing’s hard stone surface. She almost lost control then and fell back, but her hands flailed about, grabbing two of the rails. She dropped further down as she struggled to hold on. But her fingers were too raw, too cold, and gravity pulled at her. She acted instinctively, self-preservation driving her as she flailed about with one of her hands, reaching through the rails to grab hold of Maggie. She kicked frantically, trying to find a foothold on the slippery roof below her. But the weight of her body was too much for her. Her grip loosened.

  Eyes wide and mouth open, she slipped soundlessly over the side. Candy and Maggie heard the thump as her upper body hit the rain-slicked slate roof, then a scraping sound as she slid downward and finally over the edge into the wet, dark night.

  Thirty-Eight

  The storm blew northeastward overnight, spiraling into the Canadian Maritimes. By ten o’clock Friday morning, when Sapphire Vine was scheduled to be buried at Stone Hill Cemetery, the sun was beginning to break through thin, ragged clouds that reminded Candy of drawn-out balls of raw cotton — all that remained of the fierce storm of the night before.

  The ground was still damp, though, squelching under the feet of those who had gathered in this place to pay their last respects. Glassy, shallow puddles that lay scattered across the uneven landscape had to be assiduously avoided unless one wanted well-soaked shoes. More annoying were the few stray drops of cold rainwater that fell without warning on uncovered heads from the glistening summer leaves of maples, elms, and red oaks that inhabited the cemetery grounds.

  Standing beside Maggie toward the rear of the crowd, Candy wore a short-sleeve black knit dress and dark gray Birkenstock clogs, which she had thought might be too casual for the occasion but then decided were better than sneakers or her muddy rubber boots. She also had brought along a navy blue raincoat, which she held draped over her folded arms. The day was warming and the worst of the weather was over, so she had decided against wearing it.

  Trying not to seem too obvious about it, she glanced first in one direction, then the other, scanning the crowd huddled solemnly at the graveside.

  It’s a pretty good turnout, she thought as the Reverend James P. Daisy delivered a last few words, and Cameron Zimmerman, looking thin and bone weary in an ill-fitting dark brown suit, threw a balsam garland laced with ribbons and blueberries onto the descending black coffin.

  So ends the shortest and strangest reign of a Blueberry Queen in all of Cape Willington’s history, Candy reflected with a mixture of melancholy and resignation. Still, Sapphire would be proud. She’s had a good sending-off.

  Maggie must have sensed her thoughts. “The Queen is dead,” she murmured, looking uncharacteristically tearful. “Long live the Queen.”

  “Here, here.”

  Maggie dabbed at her eyes with a lace handkerchief. “Oh, Sapphire, Sapphire, we hardly knew ye! Why, oh why, did you have to be such an obnoxious flake? We could have been such good friends, you and I, if only you had been just a little bit normal!”

  “Normality is in short supply around this place, in case you hadn’t noticed,” Candy mused with another furtive glance around at the crowd. “Besides, it’s like you said — her strange behavior wasn’t really her fault. She never fully recovered from the shock of losing both David and Cameron in such a short period of time. She’d been living in some sort of dreamworld of her own making ever since. I guess she really was crazy.”

  “Done in by someone who was even crazier than she was.” Maggie shook her head. “It’s so sad. Just so damn sad.” Her voice trembled a bit as she spoke.

  Candy took Maggie’s elbow empathetically. “Well, at least Sapphire’s left behind something good — a wonderful legacy, of which she had every reason to be proud.” She nodded toward Cameron and Amanda, who were approaching them.

  In a blubber of tears and sobs, Maggie ran forward and hugged Cameron tightly. He looked uncomfortable for a moment, then leaned into her, put his arms around her, and hugged her back.

  “It’s done,” he said softly. “She’s finally at peace. Now she and my father can be together.”

  “Oh, Cameron,” Maggie said tearfully.

  With the appropriate words spoken, the ceremony ended. Reverend Daisy came over to shake their hands and offer some words of condolence before he turned away to talk to others.

  As the crowd began to disperse, starting off toward a line of cars nearby, Cameron, Amanda, Maggie, and Candy stood arm in arm, heads bowed, paying their final, silent respects to the former Susan Jane Vincent, alias Sapphire Vine.

  “Rest in peace,” Candy said softly.

  Maggie squeezed her hand. “She can, thanks to you. You’re the one who solved this murder case. If it wasn’t for you... well, a terrible injustice would have remained, um, unjustified.”

  Candy smiled. “I had help — the best partner anyone could ask for.”

  “We are a good team, aren’t we?” Maggie asked, brightening a little.

  “You never did tell us everything that happened last night,” Amanda said, looking over at the two of them. “When are we going to get the full story?”

  Candy pondered that for a moment. She had just come from the police station, where she had spent an hour recounting the events of the night before. After that, she had received a stern warning from Chief Durr, who told her, once again, to never, ever do this again. But then he grudgingly shook her hand. “If you ever need a job,” he told her sincerely, “I might be able to find a spot for you in the Department.”

  “It was nothing really,” Candy finally said to Amanda. “Just a little scuffle with Bertha Grayfire.”

  “A little scuffle?” Maggie said, aghast. “We were fighting for our lives! We’re lucky to be here!”

  “How’d you beat her?” Cameron asked, intrigued. “I heard she had a gun.”

  Candy took Maggie’s arm. “This is the real hero,” she told Amanda. “Your mother was amazing last night. She saved us both.”

  Maggie glowed in the praise but was quick to return it. “And what about you? I watched you all week. You were like Sherlock Holmes on the trail of Professor Moriarty. You knew Ray was innocent, so you flushed out the real killer. It was genius, pure genius!”

  Candy snorted. “I got lucky, that’s all. Heck, I almost got us both killed. I wouldn’t call that genius.”

  “No, Maggie’s right,” Cameron said to Candy. “You’re the only one who was smart enough to start snooping around. If it wasn’t for you, who knows what would have happened? You deserve a medal or something.”

  Candy’s eyes flashed with sudden humor. “I’d settle for someone to help me fix that broken window in my back door.”

  Suddenly put on the spot, Cameron stammered a bit, uncertain how to reply, but Maggie and Amanda laughed. “Oh, I’m sure Ray will be over first thing in the morning to help you with that,” Maggie said, coming to his rescue. “Maybe Cameron can come up with a better reward for you, once he comes into his inheritance.”

  “Um, yeah, I’ll think of something,” the teenager mumbled.

  Candy laid a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t be silly, Cam. You don’t owe me a
thing. I’m just glad we’re all safe, and that Bertha Grayfire is in custody, where she belongs.”

  “Is she going to live?” Cameron asked.

  Candy nodded. “I think so. The police told me this morning that she has a broken collarbone, a broken hip, and two broken legs. But she’s going to survive to stand trial.” As she spoke, her gaze shifted toward a figure walking from the graveside. “Excuse me a moment. I’ll be right back.”

  Leaving her friends, she hurried down the slope at an angle, so she could intercept the lone figure as he headed toward his car. “Herr Georg!” she called after him.

  Hearing his name, the baker paused and looked back. His expression brightened as he gave her a muted wave. “Hello, Candy.”

  She smiled and waved back. When she caught up with him, he continued, “It was a lovely ceremony, yes?”

  She took his arm as they continued down the slope toward the cars. “It was lovely, yes. Sapphire would have been very pleased.” She paused a moment before she continued, her tone becoming more serious. “Herr Georg, there’s something I must say to you.”

  He turned to look at her expectantly. “Yes?”

  “Well, I... I wanted to apologize to you for what happened yesterday — about our conversation in the park. I didn’t mean to pry into your private affairs like that, and I hope you didn’t think I was accusing you of having anything to do with Sapphire’s death. I know I probably jumped to conclusions, but I should have realized you were...”

  She broke off as Herr Georg waggled his finger in the air. “Candy, Candy, meine liebchen. You of all people owe me no apologies. You have been a better friend than I could have ever asked for. It is I who should apologize to you, for not being truthful with you from the start. If I hadn’t been so protective of my past, all of this might have turned out differently.”

  Candy squeezed his arm. “You shouldn’t blame yourself about anything that happened at the pageant. You weren’t the only one being blackmailed, you know — and you weren’t the only one who adjusted those scores.”

  “I wasn’t?” This took Herr Georg by surprise. His eyes grew wide. “But who else could have...?” But he stopped himself and smiled again. “Ah, but that is in the past, isn’t it? And it is over.”

  Candy nodded emphatically. “It’s over.”

  He patted her hand, noticeably relieved. “Well, that is good to know.”

  She took him by the hand then. “Come, I have something for you.”

  She led him to her Jeep, which was parked not too far away. Opening the passenger-side door, she withdrew a thick manila envelope, stuffed with papers, photos, and documents.

  “These are yours,” she said, passing the envelope to him. “It’s the rest of the documents Sapphire collected about you. I’ll let you decide what to do with it, though I’d recommend having a nice bonfire in your backyard some night very soon.”

  Herr Georg took the envelope appreciatively, his expression solemn. “Candy, I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything. As far as I’m concerned, this whole issue is closed.”

  She leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the cheek. He blushed deeply, making his hair and handlebar moustache seem all the whiter.

  At that moment a voice cleared behind them, and someone else spoke. “Miss Holliday?”

  Candy turned.

  Helen Ross Pruitt stood behind her, looking quite sophisticated in a stylish black suit, a lavender silk scarf that added a bit of color, and a wide-brimmed black hat with a matching lavender band. Candy’s gaze flicked to the right. Standing just there, off to one side, hands folded formally in front of him as he waited patiently, was Hobbins the butler.

  With the height of dignity and compassion, Mrs. Pruitt extended a thin-boned hand to Candy. “I have spoken to Cameron and the others,” she said, “but I wanted to express my utmost condolences to you personally on the passing of your friend. I can’t say I knew Ms. Vine well, but I do know that she had a wonderful spirit and energy. She certainly will be missed in this town.”

  Candy shook hands with her. “Thank you for your kind words.”

  Mrs. Pruitt then turned her gaze to Herr Georg. “Might I borrow Ms. Holliday for a moment,” she asked politely, “so we could have a private word?”

  Expertly taking his cue, Herr Georg first kissed Candy’s hand, then bowed deeply to them both. “Of course. I must get back to work. Candy, I will have a little surprise for you early next week. Something special I’m baking. I’ll bring it by the farm.”

  She smiled at him warmly. “I can’t wait.”

  He nodded to Candy, then to Mrs. Pruitt. “Ladies,” he said gallantly and took his leave.

  Candy turned back to Mrs. Pruitt. She noticed that Hobbins the butler had stepped away to a discreet distance, far enough so he was out of earshot, yet not too far away should Mrs. Pruitt have need of him.

  It was just the two of them now, standing beside the Jeep, under the clearing sky.

  “I would simply like to tell you,” Mrs. Pruitt began, leaning in toward Candy and speaking in low tones, “that I am aware of what you have been up to this week. I wanted you to know that I am greatly impressed by your valiant efforts and congratulate you on your success. I’m not sure you’re aware of it, but the whole town is talking about your sleuthing skills.”

  Candy tried not to appear as surprised as she felt. “I... wasn’t aware I had those skills. But thank you very much anyway, Mrs. Pruitt. That’s very kind of you to say so.”

  “Risking your own safety as you did, and capturing that horrid woman. It’s quite amazing, really.”

  “I had help,” Candy said magnanimously.

  “So I understand. But you were the catalyst. Your conviction and tenacity were admirable.”

  “Thank you,” Candy repeated awkwardly.

  “As you know,” Mrs. Pruitt went on, “Haley is scheduled to be crowned as the new Blueberry Queen on Sunday afternoon.”

  “Oh, yes!” Candy looked around. “Where is Haley?”

  “She’s waiting in the Bentley. I’ve asked her to give us a few moments to talk alone. Well, to come to my point: we would be honored if you would join us at Town Hall on Sunday for the ceremony and for a brief reception afterward.”

  “Of course. It would be my pleasure.”

  Mrs. Pruitt nodded in acknowledgment. “Excellent, excellent. We shall look forward to seeing you there. Two o’clock sharp.” She started away, then stopped and turned back. “Oh, and Candy dear — perhaps you would like to come to Pruitt Manor for tea some day next week? We could tour the gardens afterward. I know how much you love them.”

  Candy was almost at a loss for words. “That sounds wonderful. Yes, I’d love to.”

  “Good! I’ll have Hobbins arrange it. And do you think your friend Ms. Tremont would like to join us?”

  “I’m sure she would, yes.”

  “Very well. Please extend my invitation to her also. She’s such a nice woman. Delightful sense of humor.”

  Candy had to hold back a chuckle. “She certainly has that.”

  Mrs. Pruitt gave her a pleasant smile and started away again, but a thought suddenly popped into Candy’s mind. She couldn’t help blurting out, “Oh! Mrs. Pruitt!”

  “Yes?” Helen Ross Pruitt looked back expectantly.

  “I — I have just one more question for you.”

  “Yes?”

  “Well, I was wondering — why did you hire that lawyer for Ray?”

  Mrs. Pruitt gave her a long look that seemed to tell her the answer was obvious. Still, she answered as pleasantly as she could. “Just like you, Ms. Holliday, I, too, knew Ray Hutchins had not killed that girl. He has been doing good work for us at Pruitt Manor for many years, and I am quite a good judge of character. Ray’s innocence should have been clear to anyone with a bit of common sense, but it seems you and I were the only ones who knew the accusation against him was a grievous error. Regardless, I wanted to do something to help
him, and since I knew he did not have the financial capabilities to hire a good attorney himself, I thought it was the least I could do, to help out a fellow Caper. Wouldn’t you have done the same had you been in my place?”

  “Of course.”

  “And I did set you onto the right trail, didn’t I, when you visited me Wednesday morning?”

  Candy had to think about that a bit, recalling the conversation they had had at Pruitt Manor that day. Yes, now that she thought about it, Mrs. Pruitt had brought up the subject of bribery, which had fueled Candy’s curiosity, driving her to dig deeper.

  “You did,” Candy acknowledged.

  Mrs. Pruitt nodded emphatically. “Well. There you are. ’Til Sunday then.”

  And taking the arm of Hobbins the butler, Mrs. Helen Ross Pruitt walked regally toward her waiting Bentley, her chin held aristocratically high.

  “She’s a piece of work, isn’t she?”

  Candy looked around. Maggie had come up behind her. “She’s a pistol all right. Definitely someone who marches to the beat of her own drummer.”

  “Have you noticed that we seem to have a lot of those kind of people in this little town?”

  “I’ve noticed.”

  Maggie sighed dramatically. “I guess every town has its own burdens.” She tilted her head toward the departing Mrs. Pruitt. “So what did she have to say?”

  “Well, for one thing, she’s invited us to Pruitt Manor next week for tea.”

  “Ooh! Did I hear you say us? Does that mean me too?”

  “It means you too. But we’ll have to do it later in the week. I’ve got some busy days ahead of me.”

  “The farm?” Maggie queried.

  “Oh, yeah, that too. I almost forgot — it’s berry-picking time, isn’t it? Thank goodness we’re ready for it. Doc’s got the winnower and rakes all set to go, and we’ve a truckload of crates from the plant. But that’s just part of it. I’ve also got to find some time to write a column for the newspaper and bake pies for Melody.”