by Tonya Kappes
“The other day he asked me to look into Corbin Ashbrook’s death and this morning he said they believe Corbin might’ve died accidentally.” I was laying the foundation to get some information out of her.
“Mae West, you aren’t one to beat around the bush just because I’m an old lady, are you?” Agnes Swift was one smart cookie.
“I should’ve known.” I leaned in closer so the officers over at the coffee pot couldn’t hear. “I was wondering if they cleared the crime scene at the Daniel Boone National Park office where Alison Gilbert was killed.”
“They finished it off this morning. Hank is working double time as the lead investigator in her murder and finishing up as a ranger in Corbin’s death. He’s not been too open about the Gilbert case. He said I would tell you and he’s right.” She nodded.
“Who is working on Stanley Bayer’s escape?” I asked.
“Normal police. We’ve gotten some leads but they’re not real. Some people called said they seen him in Florida. Then another call came in and said he was in Alaska.” She rolled her eyes. “It was probably that mama of his.”
“Snookie?” I asked.
“Mmhhh,” she snorted. “Them boys give her a fit, but she loves that Stanley best of all.”
“So I heard.” I sighed. “Back to Alison’s case. Are there any suspects?”
“Hank seems to think she was snooping around in something and apparently got a little too close. So they are going through her files on her computer. Technology these days, they think them computers hold all the answers to life.” She tsked.
“I don’t own one, but I do go to the library to use one,” I said. “Alison told me Corbin had been dragging his feet on closing down the park for the drought. She also said he’d threatened her. Do you think Corbin was protecting someone?”
“Could’ve been.” Agnes leaned in and mumbled, “According to his wife, Ardine, she said he got a phone call right before he left that morning. She said he was all hush-hush and told her he had to go look into something.”
“Did you say Ardine?” I asked, repeating the name to make a mental note.
“Yep. She’s just beside herself with grief. I told Hank to have the Bible Thumpers stop by there with an apple pie from Pam Purcell.” Agnes licked her lips.
“You mean Carol Wise?” I asked.
“Nope. Carol has the best peaches in the summer, but Pam has the best apples in the fall.” She corrected me.
I’d yet to meet Carol or Pam, though I knew all about their pie baking feud.
“Do you think an apple turnover from the Cookie Crumble will do?” I asked.
“If it’s coming from you, anything will be fine.” Agnes patted me on the back. “Be sure to let me know what you find out, because Hank has been tightlipped. And before you go digging to come up with something about Corbin, you’re wasting your time. The autopsy report came back one-hundred percent that Corbin died of anaphylaxis. His body shows all the signs.”
She handed me the final report from the coroner. I read the notes around the body outline on the paper about Corbin’s swollen eyes, the rash on his body, and how his tongue was the weapon that killed him. Closed off his airway. It did appear that Hank was right. They were two separate incidents. It didn’t change my mind about going to see Ardine. Not only did I want to give my condolences, I wanted to see if she knew anything about what Alison had said about Corbin and if she knew how he really felt about the drought. After all, they were husband and wife, you’d figure they’d told each other everything.
“Why did you think Hank was coming over this morning?” I had to ask. I was so curious.
“Mae West, have you ever heard of island time?” She asked. “Slow life but the most enjoyable while you’re there?” she asked, and I nodded.
“Nothing like it.” I recalled the time Paul had taken me to the western Caribbean and it was the most relaxing vacation I’d ever been on.
“Well, honey, you’re on Hank Sharp time.” She winked and answered the ringing phone.
“Hank Sharp time,” I whispered on my way out.
Was he really worth the wait?
ELEVEN
“Why are we back here?” Sleeping Beauty, aka Queenie French, popped up from her slumber in the passenger seat after I’d pulled into a parking space in front of the Cookie Crumble.
There was a white work van in front of the bakery with the logo of a security company on it. There was a man standing on a ladder, screwing something on front of the building.
“While you were sleeping…” I started to say.
“I was resting my eyes,” she debated.
“You were snoring.” The facts were the facts.
“Why are we here?” She ignored me and pulled herself together.
“I need to get something with apple in it from Christine and I have a few questions for her too.” I looked past Queenie and into the window of the bakery.
There were a couple of customers at the counter. For a split second, I debated whether or not to wait until they left. Then again, if I went in, Christine might hurry them along. I decided to do the latter.
The bell of the door dinged. Christine looked up from the glass display case. The freckles sprinkled spread across her face as her smile grew. Her hair was tucked under the normal hair net.
“Good morning,” she trilled through the shop. Her upbeat demeanor was welcomed. “I’ll be right with you two.”
Queenie trotted up to the counter and joined the other two customers. She started to give her two cents on her favorite desserts Christine had baked for the day.
“While she makes me a sale, what can I get for you?” Christine walked over. She smelled like a warm glazed donut.
“I need to get something with apple in it for Corbin Ashbrook’s wife.” I threw it in so I could dive into the questioning about the cookies and pastries she’d sold the inmates when Betts had brought them here before they went to pick up trash.
“Such a tragedy.” A frown flitted across her face. “I’d heard it was from eating peanut butter, which is really odd because he came in here every Friday and would hunt for something without peanut butter.” She drew her hand to her chest. “I can’t make this a peanut-free facility. But on Fridays, when I’d get here early, I’d make one batch of sugar cookies before I did anything with other cookies because there was no trace of peanuts that early.”
“That is so nice of you.” I didn’t expect any different. Christine was a very nice person and had always been so considerate of others.
“He didn’t come today.” She glanced over at the counter behind her. “That’s his cookie and he didn’t come get it.”
This wasn’t adding up to a death by peanut allergy. Why hadn’t he stopped by the bakery? These were all questions maybe Ardine could answer.
“Are you having a security system installed?” I asked. Normal really never had true crime like robberies or break-ins. Maybe a couple of murders, but those weren’t because the crime rate was through the roof. In fact, Normal had very little crime.
“I’d heard there was someone lingering around the window last night. It kinda scared me since the park does bring in some sketchy people, not that I’m discriminating, but when the parks shut down for things like a drought, some people just think it’s a free for all.” She shrugged. “That’s all.”
“I couldn’t help but notice you jumped on the phone the other day when I was in here and told you about the possible shutdown due to the drought. Who did you call?”
She jerked her head up with a seedy look in her eyes.
“Now, Mae West, you’ve been hanging around.” She stopped herself and slid her eyes Queenie’s way. She lifted a brow. “Them too long,” she finished her sentence.
“They’re good gals.” I joked and gave her a look like I fully expected her to tell me the answer. “So?”
“I was talking to my sister. She’s been looking at expanding the Cookie Crumble into other small towns around the park and
I’d been a little apprehensive. If there’s a shutdown here, we’ll be in trouble and not be able to stay open.” She looked down the counter where the customers were ready to give their order. “I’ll be with you in a minute,” she told them. “With the new businesses coming, we’ll file for the grants the park offers during the shutdown, but with Skip Toliver opening the canoeing and whitewater business, the mayor will sign off on that one for sure. If we’d known about the shutdown, we probably wouldn’t’ve made the mayor her own cookie, because it’s not going to be good for us.”
I pointed to one of the chocolate sprinkle donuts in the case in front of us. She snapped a white parchment paper from the box and reached in to get the donut, placing it in the bag.
“There’s grants?” I sure did have a lot to learn about owning a business in a national park. Not that I wanted to take away from anyone else’s business, but I sure would like to keep mine open and a grant would be nice if things did go south.
“I asked Corbin about the shutdown and he didn’t want to talk about it. He got all fidgety and there was some aggravation. At first I thought it was because all them inmates were in here with the Normal Baptist Church and they were about to go in the park to pick up trash.” Something flickered in her eye. “He was really good at his job.”
“You said at first you thought. Then what did you really think?” I encouraged her to finish her sentence after she’d lost her train of thought.
“When I heard he died, I immediately thought of the drought and . . .” she hesitated, “when you’re in the food business, you hear people talking while they are deciding what to buy and it really seemed as if the Chamber of Commerce meeting had taken a detour after someone brought up the drought. There were all sorts of fussing and carrying on about getting rid of Corbin and if the mayor didn’t do it, they’d figure it out.”
“Do you know who said that?” My jaw dropped. Maybe Corbin did die from peanut butter but not by choice.
“I was fixing the display of cookies I’d been asked to bring and I had bent down under the table getting napkins and some business cards.” Her face reddened. “I hate to admit it, but I stayed under there listening as in eavesdropping.”
“Was it a woman or man?” I asked.
“Man, though I didn’t recognize the voice.” That wasn’t going to help me any. “When I noticed they’d stopped talking, I slowly got up to see who on earth was saying all that, not that I was going to repeat it or anything. I didn’t do me no good, they’d done walked off.” She shrugged.
The customers were pacing up and down the counter.
“I’ve got to go help them.” She hurried down the display cases and helped them.
Queenie looked at my donut.
“How did you get that so fast?” She asked.
“I knew what I wanted. Did you go to the Chamber of Commerce meeting last month?” I asked.
“I had a Jazzercise Strike class to teach. I did hear it was a doozie. And I’m definitely going to the one tonight.” She continued to look at the chocolate sprinkle donut that I had nestled in the parchment paper and ready to eat.
“Let’s go together. I think we’ve got some information to look into.” I handed her the donut, giving it to her and made my way down to where Christine and the customers were finishing up.
I gave them a sweet smile as they passed on the way out the door.
“Christine, can I ask you one more question?” I thought if I did the southern charm girly thing, she’d not catch on that I was trying to piece together the murder of Alison and what I still believed to be the murder of Corbin.
“Sure. I’m going to clean up a bit.” She scurried around the counter, grabbing the broom and dust pan from the corner. She swept up the dried leaves that’d fluttered through the door when the customers left.
“You said something about the inmates coming in with Betts and Lester. Do you remember this one?” I dug down in my purse where I’d put Stanley’s mugshot.
“That’s Stanley Bayer. I’ve known them all my life.” She laughed. “They’ve always given their poor mama a fit. My mama and daddy told me to stir clear away from the Bayer boys. My sister, well, she’s another story. Anyways, I’d heard he was in jail but he wasn’t with them the day they came into the bakery.”
“Are you sure?” I asked because I remember Betts saying he was in the group.
“As sure as shinola I’m sure.” She exuded confidence. “I’da talked to him if he was. We don’t have no animosity between us or nothing.”
“Why would you?” I asked.
“His mama claimed it was her donut recipe that my sister stole to start our business. I’m not saying Snookie didn’t help Mallory out in-home economics class when we were going through school, with a little extra salt here and there, but she certainly didn’t steal no full recipe.” She continued to sweep.
“I’d heard about that down at the Cute-icle years ago,” Queenie said with a mouthful of donut.
“Yep.” Christine nodded. “Queenie can tell you all about it.”
“You can do that on the way over to see Ardine.” I turned back to Christine. “Can I get an apple turnover to go?”
“I’ll give you a couple.” She winked and got the desserts for me.
Normal wasn’t a big town. In fact, it was small, but the county was large and the roads through and in the park were long and windy. I’d yet to figure my way around the entire town since everything I needed was either downtown or at Happy Trails. Queenie used the pointing method and down yonders to get me to Corbin Ashbrook’s house. It was no big shock to see that he lived in an A-frame house, nestled in the woods.
Ardine was sitting on the small deck when we drove up. She looked a little cautious but when she saw Queenie she waved and smiled.
“Ardine, I’m so sorry about Corbin.” Queenie dripped with sympathy. It was the first time I’d ever heard her have such deep emotion. Apparently, she and Ardine had been friends a long time because the two embraced and did a lot of nodding as though they were speaking their own language.
“Did he not have his medication on him?” Queenie asked her once they pulled apart.
Ardine’s eyes slid over to me.
“I’m sorry,” Queenie hand palmed her face. “Where are my manners? This is Mae West.”
“I’ve heard Corbin talk about you.” Ardine smiled. “He said you’re doing a fine job at Happy Trails.”
“Thank you.” I sucked in a deep breath as the pain on her face stung my heart. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”
“I understand that you found him.” She really did recognize me, and I wondered if she was going to ask me questions about it, but she didn’t. “I’m glad you did and he didn’t stay missing for days.” She shook her head. “We always joked that the park would eventually take him. He loved it out there and it was his happy place.”
“What about the medication?” I asked, because I thought it was a great question from Queenie.
“He got a call about a missing camper, I believe from Happy Trails. He took off and left his EpiPen along with his cell phone. I didn’t think anything of it. He hadn’t had a reaction in years. I’m not sure where he got the peanut butter,” her voice trailed off and she looked into the distance.
“We brought you an apple turnover from the Cookie Crumble.” I held the bag up.
“Those girls sure are good to him.” She took the bag and opened it. “There are a few in here. Would y’all like a cup of coffee and enjoy one with me?”
“I’d love it.” Queenie was quick to answer.
“Girls?” I asked and we followed her into the A-Frame.
“Christine and Mallory Watson. Both very nice gals. He loved going in there to get his special cookie from Christine on Fridays.” Her voice echoed around open timbers of the house.
There was a loft on top and a set of wooden stairs on the right that lead up to it. The kitchen was on the opposite wall while the rest of the open space was filled with fu
rniture facing the wall of windows on the back side with the most amazing view of the Daniel Boone National Park. It was breathtaking.
“Christine wasn’t there on Friday. First time in a long time she wasn’t.” Queenie sat down in one of the stools at the concrete kitchen counter waiting for her apple turnover and coffee.
“She wasn’t there?” I asked.
“Nope. It was Mallory. She’s not as nice as Christine, but they are both good girls. It’s just that Christine goes the extra mile for the customers.”
“Do you know if Corbin got his special cookie yesterday morning?” I asked Ardine.
“He sure did. He came home and said that he stopped by there and got his cookie. That was right before he got the call about your camper and headed right out.” Ardine slid a cup of coffee across the counter.
“I’ve got to go.” I looked at Queenie. “Come on.”
“I’m enjoying my visit with Ardine,” she protested.
“I’ll take you back,” said Ardine. “I’ve got to go to the funeral home to make some arrangements and I’d love the company on the way into town.” Ardine’s face was somber as she spoke about the funeral home and the task at hand.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“Positive.” She leaned over the counter and patted Queenie’s hand. “We’ve been friends a long time, ain’t we?”
“Mmhhhh. Through a lot together too.” Queenie nodded.
“Do you think you could give me the address of Stanley Bayer’s mama?” I asked Queenie before I left.
“You just need to take a left out of my driveway and after the hairpin curve, you’ll take a sharp right at the fork in the road. Go past three barns and at the fourth barn - it’s red - you’ll take a right and it’s the first trailer on the right.” Ardine’s hand swiveled around in front of her like it was a car.
Why couldn’t these people give house numbers or real directions? I wondered to myself on my way out of the A-frame and into the Escort.
“Hairpin curve, right at fork, fourth barn right, and first trailer on right,” I repeated over and over until I got to the trailer. It was nothing like I thought it was going to be.