Berried Alive

by Chelsea Thomas

  I laughed. Teeny was a wonderful hostess. But if guests criticized her cooking, her décor, the wait time, the service, the silverware, the napkin creases, the place mats... You get the idea. She didn’t love criticism. She usually banned one customer from the restaurant each month, on average.

  “Hold on a second,” Miss May said. “The pie Rosenberg died on... inspired you?”

  Teeny shrugged. “Not the literal pie of death. But yes. I thought it was one of your berry best. Get it. Berry?”

  Miss May chuckled. “I get it, T. Clever.”

  We slid into the booth. Teeny sat opposite us and signaled to the vacuuming waitress. “We’re ready, Annabeth!”

  Annabeth, who wore her hair in her face and walked with an odd shuffle, hurried into the kitchen. Seconds later, she emerged with a casserole tray of Teeny’s new creation and set it on our table along with plates and forks.

  “Now presenting Teeny’s magnificent berry bake it is a berry bake like no other please enjoy and let me know what else I can get you thank you so much.”

  Annabeth shuffled away, keeping her eyes on the ground.

  Miss May cocked her head at Teeny. “New employee?”

  “Annabeth. Friend of a friend. Real weird girl. She’s coming along. But don’t worry about her. Worry about this berry bake!”

  Teeny gestured to the dish like Vanna White. “Ta-da! The every berry oatmeal bake of your dreams.”

  I leaned forward and sniffed. The aroma warmed my entire body. “Mmm. Brown sugar. Vanilla. And is that almond extract I smell?”

  Teeny nodded. “You’re teaching her well, May. Almond extract it is. And you might not smell it, but there’s about three refrigerators worth of unsalted butter in that thing.”

  “Just three refrigerators?” Miss May asked. “I use four refrigerators’ worth in my piecrust.”

  Teeny and Miss May laughed. But I kept my focus trained on the berry bake. It looked and smelled so delicious my mouth watered.

  Teeny chuckled. “Chelsea, don’t take this the wrong way, but are you drooling like a wild dog?”

  “What’s the right way to take that?” I asked.

  Teeny shrugged and I wiped the saliva from my mouth. “Anyway, it’s not my fault you made me drool. You baked this delicious creation and now you’re taunting us with it!”

  “Point taken!” Teeny served each of us a heaping helping and handed us forks.

  I took a bite and widened my eyes. “How does this taste even better than it smells?”

  “Could be the three refrigerators of butter,” Miss May said, mouthful of berry bake. “But oh my this scrumptious!”

  Teeny clapped her hands. “Great! So it’s on the menu. But what should we call it?”

  “I thought you had already named it berry oatmeal bake of your dreams or whatever,” I said.

  Teeny looked disgusted. “That’s not the name. That’s a bare-bones description of the dish. I need something clever. Chelsea, use your college brain.”

  I laughed. “How about the Bodacious Berry Bake?”

  Teeny snapped her fingers. “Triple alliteration! I’m drowning in how cute that is. Please. Save me! Throw me a flotation device made of berry bake!”

  We spent the next few minutes devouring the Bodacious Berry Bake, then Miss May filled Teeny in on the investigation.

  Once all was said, done, and devoured, Teeny summed things up. “So Wallace is dead. And the mystery briefcase contained a photo album, divorce papers, and evidence that Rosenberg bribed the mayor.”

  Miss May nodded. “So our quandary is... who do we question first?”

  “I suppose you don’t want me to suggest something I learned on North Port Diaries?” Teeny asked.

  Miss May smirked. “That’s correct.”

  “Then it’s easy,” Teeny said. “You need to talk to the mayor.”

  “Is it that obvious?” Miss May asked. “We also learned Susan Rosenberg wanted a divorce.”

  “But only the mayor would have had the motive to kill both Rosenberg and Wallace,” Teeny said.

  Miss May took a bite of Berry Bake. “It’s possible that there were two different killers in this case.”

  “I agree,” Teeny said. “And if it turns out the mayor is innocent, we should pursue that theory. But time is of the essence, here. So why not start with the suspect who could be culpable in both murders?”

  Miss May looked impressed. “Whoa. Teeny. That’s... that’s an amazing point.”

  Teeny smiled. “Guess what?”

  “What?” Miss May asked.

  “I saw it on an episode of North Port Diaries.”

  Miss May and I laughed.

  “You are too much!” I said.

  Teeny shrugged.

  “But can we back up one second,” I said. “I want to make sure I understand.”

  “Sure,” said Teeny. “I’ve seen the episode two dozen times.”

  “Our working theory is that Mayor Delgado killed both victims. She murdered Hank because he controlled her with bribes and she wanted an out. And she murdered Wallace because he had evidence of the bribes and she wanted to keep her corruption a secret.”

  “And bingo was her name-o,” said Teeny.

  “It’s also possible Susan killed Rosenberg,” I said. “Because she wanted a divorce.”

  “And it’s possible Wallace killed Rosenberg,” Miss May said, patiently going over the theory. “Because Rosenberg destroyed Wallace’s Section 8 housing.”

  “But we’re not pursuing those leads because we have limited time. So we’re focusing on the suspect who had the motive to kill both victims.”

  “That’s how it goes in North Port Diaries,” Teeny said.

  “What happens at the end of that episode?” I asked.

  Teeny cringed. “You really want me to tell you?”

  I nodded.

  “The detectives all die.”

  29

  Mayor, May I?

  WHEN WE WALKED UP TO town hall, it was still before 8 AM, and there were no cars in the parking lot.

  “It looks like the mayor’s not at work yet,” Miss May said.

  Teeny scoffed. “That figures. Government employees never arrive before 9 AM and they never stay after 5 PM. Except for government gravediggers. They work the same hours though. Just in reverse.”

  I looked over at Teeny. “I don’t think government gravedigger is a real job.”

  Teeny shrugged. “Could be.”

  “Yoo-hoo!”

  We turned to see Deb walking toward us with her Persian cat, Sandra Day O’Connor, on a leash. Deb greeted us with a smile and brimmed with happy energy. But then Miss May turned the conversation to Sandra’s quest for love, and Deb’s face fell.

  “My heart breaks for Sandra,” Deb said. “Still single, after all my hard work and effort. Although I’m sure you’d agree she’s the most beautiful feline in Pine Grove.”

  Ummmmm, sure?

  Deb’s voice wavered. “I tell Sandra there are no eligible bachelors in this town and that she’s better off alone. But at night, once the day slows down, she gets lonely. And I understand that. Hence my search for her suitor.”

  Miss May nodded. “I get it. Sandra deserves a life partner like the rest of us.”

  “What about that feral tomcat that hangs out under the dumpster over by Ewing’s Eats?” Teeny asked. “That fella seems friendly, for a stray.”

  Deb glared. “My Sandra will not be seen with a dumpster cat. Not that there’s anything wrong with strays. But he and Sandra would have nothing to meow about.”

  I chuckled.

  Deb turned on me. “This is serious, Chelsea. You know what it’s like to be young and alone.”

  My jaw dropped. “Hey. I’m not alone.”

  Miss May chuckled. “She’s not that young, either.”

  “Yes I am!” I said. “I’m hot and young and I have multiple suitors! I’m playing the field.”

  “Also, Sandra has never been in a serious re
lationship,” Teeny said. “Chelsea was almost married.”

  “We all know how that turned out,” Deb said.

  Sandra tugged on her leash. Probably Sandra was embarrassed and wanted to go home. Or maybe that’s just me, I thought.

  Deb kneeled beside the cat. “Okay sweetheart. We’re going.” She stood up once more. “If you meet any handsome tomcats—”

  “We’ll call,” said Miss May. “Right away.”

  A FEW MINUTES LATER, the mayor’s car pulled into the lot and Mayor Delgado climbed out. She wore an impeccable pant-suit, as always. Her heels clacked as she climbed the steps toward the main entrance.

  “Morning, Linda!” Miss May called out.

  The mayor slowed her pace when she saw us. “Ladies. How can I help you?”

  Miss May waved the mayor away. “Oh! We don’t need help. We were just taking a morning walk.”

  “Morning walks are part of our routine now,” I said. “It’s part of our new healthy lifestyle for healthy living and being healthy and eating superfoods. Açaí. Is that how you say it? Ah-sigh-eeeeee?”

  Miss May looked at me like I was crazy. Then she looked back to the mayor. “Yes. What Chelsea said. But with fewer words. Anyway, how are you?”

  “I’m fine, May. But I have a busy day and I need to—”

  “Cut the bull, Delgado.” Teeny stepped forward. “You know why we’re here. We want to talk about Rosenberg.”

  The mayor offered a tight smile. “As I told Miss May, I only answer questions from official members of the press, not random folks on bizarre ‘health walks’ nowhere near their homes.”

  “Every journey starts with one step,” I said. “People on the Today Show are always saying that.”

  The mayor stepped past us and reached for the door but Teeny blocked her path, “Look at you!” Teeny said. “One mention of Rosenberg, and you’re quaking in your sensible heels. Sweating through your pant suit. Hit her with the goods, May!”

  Miss May spoke to Teeny through gritted teeth. “Teeny. What are you doing?”

  Teeny responded with oblivious enthusiasm. “I’m recreating the episode of North Port Diaries. I thought that’s what you wanted.”

  Mayor Delgado crossed her arms. “You two know I can hear you, right?”

  “They’re just being silly,” I said, trying to smooth the tension. “Babbling. You know about babbling, right? He babbles. She babbles. Everyone goes babble babble. I’m doing it now!”

  Teeny shook her head. “It’s too late for that, Chelsea. We need to stick it to Mayor Linda or she’s going to get away.”

  “Teeny! Stop!” Miss May glared.

  “No, May! In North Port Diaries, the sleuths go for the jugular!” The sleuths who end up dead, you mean? Teeny got right in the mayor’s face. “We know about Rosenberg’s ‘campaign donations.’ Admit it, Delgado! You were taking bribes!”

  Delgado froze. “I’m sorry... what?”

  “You heard me!” Teeny said. “Right? Did you hear me?”

  “Yes. I... I think I did.” Mayor Delgado looked around. The parking lot was still empty, and Deb and Sandra were long gone.

  Linda took a deep breath. “Let’s talk in my office.”

  30

  Nectarine Dream

  I HAD BEEN IN THE MAYOR’S office before. I remembered a modest space with lots of diplomas on the walls. But the place had changed since I’d seen it last, and not in a good way. There were at least thirty degrees on the walls, with no more than half an inch between each. If these walls could talk, I thought, they’d be insufferably stuck-up. Like a Harvard graduate on steroids.

  Mayor Delgado poured us each a glass of water and sat us in leather chairs opposite her desk.

  Then she took a seat in her own chair and exhaled. “OK. Tell me what you think you know.”

  “It might be better if you told us what was going on first,” Miss May said. “So we could corroborate the details.”

  The mayor shook her head. “I’m not doing this on your terms, May. You tell me what you know or you leave.”

  Miss May stammered. “OK. Uh. Then I guess I’ll talk.”

  Over the next few minutes, Miss May shared every ounce of intel with the mayor. I expected the mayor to look nervous as Miss May spoke, but the more Miss May said, the more relaxed the mayor’s posture and face became. Even as Miss May detailed our knowledge of Rosenberg’s bribes, the mayor seemed at ease.

  When Miss May stopped talking, the mayor laid her hands flat on the table and nodded. “Everything you just said is true.”

  Miss May choked on a sip of water. “I’m sorry. What?”

  “I knew it!” Teeny pumped her fist. “She’s a crook! May, you hold her down. Chelsea, you karate chop her! That’s not from North Port Diaries, I’m just winging it now!”

  “No one needs to karate chop me,” the mayor said. “You need to let me explain.”

  Miss May placed a calming hand on Teeny’s arm. “It’s OK, Teeny.” My aunt turned back to the mayor. “Go ahead.”

  “OK,” Mayor Delgado began. “This all started about a year ago when I was shopping for nectarines at the organic market. Thinking back now, that was a mistake. The organic market charges too much for nectarines. I should have gone to the local grocery.”

  “How is this related?” Teeny asked. “You were spending the bribe money on organic nectarines?”

  “No,” the mayor said. “The fruit shopping came before the bribing.”

  Teeny glared. “That’s what they all say. You rotten, no-good, corruptible—”

  “Teeny!” Miss May said. “Let her talk.”

  Teeny settled down and the mayor continued. “OK,” Delgado said. “The market didn’t have nectarines, so I bought peaches.”

  Teeny scoffed. “This is absurd. She’s buying time.”

  “I’m sure that’s not true, Teeny.” Miss May narrowed her eyes. “But I would like to know how this relates to the bribes.”

  “Me too,” I said. “Did Rosenberg know you’d accept bribes because you so willingly abandoned nectarines for peaches?”

  The mayor sighed. “Forget the fruit! I was shopping in the store. About a year ago. When two men in black suits approached me. The men claimed they were from the FBI. They asked me to get into an unmarked car but I refused. So we went to the donut shop next door instead.”

  “Oh,” Miss May said “So you must have been at the organic market down-county. I thought you were at the one near here.”

  “Down-county, yes,” Linda said. “I try to shop local, but I was in the area for another errand, so.”

  “Good to know,” Miss May said.

  Teeny threw up her hands. “Why is that good to know? She has said nothing real yet. FBI agents in an organic market? That’s nuts!”

  “Please let me finish,” the mayor said.

  “Continue,” Miss May said. “And include any details you’d like. You never know what might be a clue.”

  Miss May shot a look at Teeny, and the mayor kept talking.

  “OK. So we went to the donut shop. There, the agents showed me their identification. Then they told me they suspected Hank Rosenberg of bribing community officials to grease the wheels on his big construction projects.”

  I gasped.

  “Exactly,” the mayor said. “The feds hadn’t caught Rosenberg in the act. But they knew he was eyeing Pine Grove as his next development site. And they told me Rosenberg would likely offer me a bribe in the next few days. They wanted me to accept the money so I could earn Rosenberg’s trust.”

  “Likely story,” Teeny said. “I’ve seen one just like it on my show.”

  “Then you should believe every word she says,” I said. “That’s where you get all your information.”

  Teeny narrowed her eyes at the mayor. “That’s true. I’ll hear her out.”

  “Anyway,” the mayor continued. “I didn’t want to get involved but the FBI agents were persistent. They told me it was my civic duty to help catch Ros
enberg. And they wanted me to string him along, bribe after bribe, until he offered something big. A million dollars, they said. Apparently the more money someone bribes you with, the more serious the crime.”

  “So you were part of a sting operation?” Miss May asked.

  The mayor nodded. “That’s right. And Rosenberg was about to offer me the big bucks... right before his death.”

  Teeny shook her head. “You’re making that up.” She turned to Miss May. “You’re not buying this curdled milk are you?”

  “I’m not sure.” Miss May looked over at the mayor. “Secret agents. Bribery. It seems far-fetched for Pine Grove.”

  “Massive Mart seems far-fetched big for Pine Grove,” said Delgado. “Bribery, corruption... that’s the stuff that’s behind these enormous stores.”

  “So you never really supported the project?” I asked.

  The mayor shook her head. “No. But I had to let the process keep going until Rosenberg came through with the mega-bribe. I told the FBI agents, the day the demolition was supposed begin I planned to shut it all down.”

  Miss May shook her head. “But that makes no sense. Rosenberg is dead and his parent company is still going forward with the demolition. They parked the wrecking ball on Main Street today.”

  “That’s the problem,” the mayor said. “Rosenberg was getting played by this company. They invested a bunch of money but had some shady intentions. I don’t know all the details. But supposedly the parent company is a separate legal entity. The papers I signed that gave approval for the Massive Mart are binding, even though I only signed them at the insistence of the FBI. So this parent company claims it had no awareness of the bribes and says there’s nothing I can do to stop construction.”

  “Why was Rosenberg still bribing you if you had already signed binding papers?” Miss May asked.

  “He had moved on to a mega mall, and I was pretending to support that too.”

  Miss May shook her head. “My goodness. So what now? This parent company says we’re stuck with the Massive Mart and you’re accepting that?”

  “Of course not,” the mayor said. “Why do you think I’m here so early? I’m trying to find a solution. Those FBI agents are the first on my call sheet this morning.”