Premeditated Peppermint

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Premeditated Peppermint Page 11

by Amanda Flower


  Cass and Jethro bounced in their seat next to me.

  “Geez,” Cass complained. “Are you aiming for the potholes?”

  “No,” I said defensively. “I just can’t see them because of the snow on the road. These rural roads don’t get as much attention as the main highways.”

  “You might want to get the Ohio governor on that,” Cass said as we rolled through another hole.

  “Sure, I’ll call him right up.”

  Cass laughed.

  As I drove along the road, it began to snow large, white flakes. “I hope we can get out of here before the weather turns too bad,” I said. “This would not be a good place to have a car break down.”

  “Why would you even say anything like that?” Cass asked. “You’re just asking for trouble when you do that. Besides, we will be quick. We get in, ask them to make Jethro a star, ask which one of them killed Rocky Rivers—so not her real name—and then we get out. Easy-peasy.”

  “Right,” I said. “Easy-peasy.”

  Through the increasing snow I saw a hand-painted sign on the side of the road. It said, CHRISTMAS TREES! and pointed forward.

  “There must be a Christmas tree farm out here,” I said. “I wonder if it’s the same one that is selling trees at the market in the village.”

  Cass shrugged as if that didn’t matter.

  I sighed. Tree Road was long, and we passed the Christmas tree farm before reaching the guest house. I was happy to see that my guess had been right and the farm on the road was Keim Christmas Tree Farm, the same one selling trees at the Christmas Market.

  We drove another mile down the road until we saw a second building. It was the guest house, a huge, white-framed farmhouse in the middle of a field. A clothesline was holding a lone patchwork quilt that flapped back and forth in the brisk wind. If the quilt was left out there much longer, it would be frozen stiff.

  A buggy without its horse stood in the middle of the driveway, and the production van that had been a bone of contention between Eric and Aiden the day before was parked in the middle of the snow-covered yard. Behind the parked buggy was an SUV with GOURMET TELEVISION and the network’s logo emblazoned on its side. I knew I was in the right place, but what was clearly an old farmhouse was the last place on earth I’d thought I would ever find Eric Sharp. Eric stayed at places with a doorman and a high-end fitness center. Not that the small village of Harvest had one of those. But knowing Eric’s tastes, I thought he’d elect to stay somewhere five star and demand that a helicopter fly him to and from the set.

  I parked on the lawn next to the van. It would be an easy spot to leave in case we needed to make a quick exit. Usually, I didn’t think of such things, but Cass was with me on this excursion. It was best to consider all possible contingencies. And Jethro. Heaven forbid something should happen to Jethro.

  I turned to Cass and the pig. “You guys ready for this?”

  They both showed me their teeth, which I didn’t find particularly comforting, especially in Jethro’s case.

  I climbed out of the car, and Cass followed suit with Jethro in her arms. I shoved Jethro’s leash into my pocket. I wasn’t sure how the production team would react when Cass and I showed up at the door with a pig in tow. I was certain this was never a concern that Juliet had when she carried her pig around the county. She expected everyone to welcome Jethro with open arms.

  White, wooden rocking chairs lined the porch. Cass tucked Jethro under her arm like a football and walked up to the door first. She waited for me by the door before placing her hand on the doorknob. “It’s locked,” she said.

  I knocked and waited for a long moment. No one came to the door. I tried the doorknob again, and again, nothing happened.

  “What?” she asked me. “You didn’t believe me when I said it was locked?”

  “I believed you.”

  To my left, the half-frozen quilt whipped back and forth on the line, making an eerie snapping sound. I wondered if the quilt would shatter if it eventually did freeze solid.

  I knocked on the door again, and a moment later it opened. I had expected to be greeted by the Amish owner of the home, but instead we were greeted by Pike, the sound guy from Eric’s production team.

  I guessed his age to be close to twenty. He wore a gray T-shirt and jeans. He had dark circles under his eyes that seemed out of place on someone so young. There was stubble on his face as if he hadn’t shaved for a couple of days. I didn’t know if that was by design or just the result of his obvious exhaustion. He also held a half-eaten candy cane in his hand. He blinked at me. “You’re Eric’s Amish girlfriend.” He glanced at Cass. “She’s holding a pig.”

  “I sure am,” Cass said, and stepped forward with Jethro pointed outward from her body like a battering ram. “You don’t care if we step in from the cold, do you?”

  He stumbled back, making sure to hold his candy cane out of the pig’s reach. “Umm, no?”

  “Said with so much confidence,” Cass quipped, and crossed over the threshold.

  I followed her inside and held out my hand to Pike after closing the door behind me with my foot. “I don’t think we formally met back in the candy shop yesterday. I’m not Eric’s girlfriend. I’m Bailey King.”

  He limply shook my hand with his free one.

  I broke off the handshake, and it took all my willpower not to wipe my hand on the thigh of my jeans to remove the feel of his limp, damp flesh on my palm.

  I found myself in a tasteful, country-style living room. It was plain and simple, but not in an Amish way. There were a few ceramic knickknacks on the tables and framed photographs on the wall. It looked like an English country home.

  Pike noticed me looking around. “It’s an Airbnb place. Rocky found it on the Internet. It had enough rooms for the entire crew, so none of us have to bunk together, which is a nice change. I usually have to share a room since I’m the low man on the totem pole, so to speak. It’s been nice having my own space. We have to work long hours to get this show done in time to air, so Rocky thought it would be best to rent the whole house.” He frowned. “But I don’t even know if there is still a production to run sound for.”

  “I heard that the show is going to go on,” I said.

  He shrugged. “If you did, that’s news to me. As far as I know, no one on the crew knows. Well, I guess that’s just me and Roden. Oh, and Josie, if she counts.” He said this as if she might not, at least not in his estimation.

  “The three of you are the entire crew?” Cass asked, and set Jethro on the floor.

  “Umm,” Pike said, holding his candy cane high and staring at Jethro as if he might bite him—which he might, but I wasn’t going to tell the young sound guy that. “I don’t think we are supposed to have animals in here. You’re going to have to put the pig outside.”

  Cass waved away his comment. “The pig is fine. He’s used to being inside. He will be a perfect, portly gentle swine.”

  Pike looked down at Jethro as if he wasn’t so sure about that. I silently agreed with the sound guy.

  “There is no one else on the crew?” I asked, getting the conversation back onto the murder and away from the pig.

  Pike blinked at me. “It’s a small production. Just six of us came out, and that includes the talent.”

  “You mean Eric?” I asked.

  “I wouldn’t call him talent,” Cass whispered to me.

  I made a motion as if I was going to step on her foot, and she moved away from me. She had learned from the last time she’d visited me in Harvest.

  He nodded. “Is that why you’re here? For Eric? He’s not here. He left a little while ago with Josie. I don’t know when they are coming back.”

  It was interesting that Eric would go anywhere with Josie when he thought she was the killer.

  Pike popped his candy cane in his mouth, and the end hung from his lower lip like a cigarette. This reminded me of his affinity for peppermint and the candy wrappers that were found around Rocky’s body.
/>   “You seem to very fond of peppermint,” I said.

  He grinned, taking the candy from his mouth. “I love the stuff. I think that’s why Christmas is my favorite holiday, because you can find peppermint everything.”

  “You know what happened to Rocky.”

  His candy cane drooped in his hand. “Yeah, it’s terrible. She ran a tight ship, but she was a good boss. I always knew what was expected of me. I can’t say the same about other producers.” He made a face and popped the end of the cane back in his mouth.

  “Candy wrappers from my shop were found near her body. Did you know that?”

  He removed the candy cane from his mouth again. “The police asked me that too.”

  “And what did you tell them?” Cass asked.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know how the wrappers got there. Roden and I went back to the square close to six, I would say. We wanted to get some exterior night shots of the lights on the gazebo and the rest of the village. We thought it would be a great opening to the program. I captured some sounds from the gazebo. A buggy was driving by, and the clip-clop of the horse hooves was really clear on the still night. I love it when I catch crisp sounds like that. Working in television is fine to pay the bills, but I really want to be a Foley artist.”

  Cass frowned. “What’s a Foley artist?”

  “The guys who make sound effects for movies like Star Wars. Movie soundtracks really need the sounds to be crisp.” He paused. “I was so focused on capturing the pure sound of the buggy, the candy wrappers must have fallen out of my pocket while I was recording and I didn’t notice. That’s my best guess.”

  “Were the twinkle lights disturbed when you were recording your sounds?”

  He shook his head. “They were perfectly in place when we got there and when we left.”

  “What was Roden doing while you were in the gazebo?”

  “I wasn’t paying much attention to him. I guess he was shooting film and stills of the square at night.” He shrugged again.

  “And when did you leave?” Cass asked.

  “I don’t know exactly, but we weren’t very long. When we got back to the guest house, Rocky and Josie were in the middle of this giant fight.”

  “Did you know what the fight was about?” I asked, even though I already knew.

  He shook his head. “Don’t know. Don’t care. I’m not one for drama. I saw that they were in the middle of a fight and went straight up to my room to escape. I cranked up my music and fell asleep at some point. I didn’t know Rocky was dead until late this morning.”

  “When was the last time you saw Roden?” I asked, realizing that I hadn’t seen him since that morning with Linc, when I’d lost track of him in all the confusion.

  He shrugged again. “Maybe an hour ago? He said he was going to run to Millersburg to buy a few groceries for us since we don’t know how long we’ll be here. He has his own rental car.”

  I made a mental note to track down the cameraman. Maybe he’d seen something on the square that Pike had missed when he and Pike were there last night. Although I wasn’t sure why it would matter. Pike said Rocky was very much alive and fighting with Josie when Roden and Pike returned to the guest house for the night. Rocky had died sometime between when she’d stormed out of the guest house and the next morning, when Eric had found her body in the gazebo. It was close to a twelve-hour window. A lot could have happened during that time. Murder being one of the events.

  “Is anyone else from the production team around?” Cass asked.

  It was a good question, I thought. I asked, “Is Linc Baggins here?”

  Pike’s eyes widened. “Man, are you sure that’s who you want to talk to?”

  “Man?” Cass asked. “We are clearly ladies.”

  Pike’s ears turned bright red.

  “Is there a reason we wouldn’t want to speak to him?”

  He shrugged. “It’s your funeral. He’s in the production room.”

  “Production room?”

  He pointed with his thumb behind him. “That’s what we’re calling it, but I think it used to be a dining room.”

  I thanked him and walked through the arched doorway into the next room. Cass and Jethro were on my heels.

  Pike was right. The large room had been intended as a dining room. At least I came to that conclusion because of the long dining table that had been pushed against the wall, or what I could see of the dining table. It was covered with binders, papers, and cords—so many cords. They were like piles of tangled snakes. Seeing all those cords tangled together made me think of how Rocky had died. Without thinking I touched my own throat.

  Jethro buried his nose in one of the piles of wires and sniffed. I had read once that a pig’s sense of smell was even better than a dog’s, so maybe he was searching for something? In Jethro’s case, I would assume that it was something to eat. The well-fed little pig always seemed to be on the lookout for his next meal.

  The rest of the room was jam-packed with equipment. Black boxes from sound, video, and lighting. I wasn’t sure what everything did, but I was certain that it was all very expensive.

  “Where’s Linc?” Cass asked.

  I was just about to ask the same thing.

  There was a lot of equipment in the room, but the producer wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Just when I was about to leave to track down Pike and ask him where else the producer might be, there was an oink from Jethro, followed by a loud bang from under the mostly buried dining room table, followed by a string of swear words.

  Jethro peeled out from under the table and hid behind my legs.

  Chapter 16

  I bent over and picked up the pig.

  “Geez,” Cass said. “I haven’t heard phrases like that since I graduated from culinary school.”

  “Shh,” I said.

  Linc Baggins crawled out from under the dining room table on all fours. As he did, his left foot got caught in a black cord. He kicked it away and added another swear word to the mix.

  “Sounds like a charmer,” Cass muttered.

  Finally after some more grunts, Linc was on his feet. He wore loafers with no socks, even though it was December in Ohio. He had on a blue button-down shirt with no tie and open at the collar, and I was certain that his pressed slacks cost more than what Swissmen Sweets made in a day. If I was typecasting the role of television producer, he would have been a shoo-in for the part. He glared at Jethro. “What is that farm animal doing inside?”

  I held Jethro to my chest. “You should watch what you say around this little pig. He’s going to be the next big star.”

  “Or breakfast sausage,” Linc muttered.

  Cass reached over and covered Jethro’s ears. “He’s very sensitive.”

  Linc’s eyes narrowed, but then he plastered an artificial smile on his face. “Bailey, it’s so good to see you. Did you come here to talk about your part in the show?”

  Cass stared at me. “What? You are going to be in Eric’s show?”

  I made a face. “I don’t know yet.”

  Linc laughed as if I had said the funniest thing he’d ever heard. “How don’t you know? What is there to decide? It would be great exposure for your shop and for you personally.”

  “I need to hear more about this,” Cass whispered to me. “Eric might be a rat, but there is no reason you shouldn’t take advantage of this opportunity.”

  Linc narrowed his eyes. “Who are you?” he asked.

  “Cassandra Calbera,” Cass said. “I’m Bailey’s manager. Anything about the show has to go through me. I’m the pig’s talent agent too.”

  I did my best not to roll my eyes.

  Linc blinked and then turned back to me. “Rocky never told me that you had a manager. I didn’t know about this complication.”

  “I wouldn’t call it a complication,” Cass said. “I just arrived from New York. Flew private, of course.”

  Linc’s eyes went wide when Cass said that. I knew my best friend was having fun getting a ris
e out of the producer, but it wasn’t helping us get Jethro a spot on the show or helping us to find out who killed Rocky Rivers.

  “You can’t expect an executive producer to share every detail with you, can you?” Cass asked.

  Linc gritted his teeth. “It would have been helpful if she had shared at least a few details about Eric’s show with me. It was my idea, after all.”

  “Your idea?” I asked.

  “Yes. I was the one who found Eric first. I knew of his pastry shops and of his reputation in New York. I knew he was just what the network was looking for to bolster ratings. The only mistake I made was telling Rocky about it. I thought she could be my producer on the project, but she one-upped me. She spoke with Eric and Gourmet Television before I ever got a chance. There is a proper way to do these things. I wanted my pitch to be flawless. I wrote up a perfect proposal for the network. I was just fine-tuning it when she skipped over me and went directly to the network. I never should have trusted her.”

  “Sounds to me like you fell asleep on the job,” Cass said. “You wasted a lot of time putting the perfect proposal together. You can’t blame Rocky for beating you to the punch.”

  Linc glared at Cass before turning back to me. “As you can imagine, this has been a trying experience for everyone on the crew. I had a very long and difficult conversation with network executives about the next steps.”

  “And what are those next steps?” I asked.

  He straightened his shoulders. “The network, as I do, thinks that the best way to honor Rocky would be to go on with the production.” He paused. “They named me executive producer.”

  Cass elbowed me when he said that. She might as well have shouted, “We have a suspect.”

  He took a deep breath as if he was trying to center himself. “We should be able to begin filming later today if I can track down the rest of the crew.” He frowned.

  “Pike let us inside the house, so he must be around here somewhere.”

  Linc nodded. “Maybe he can find the cable that I was looking for under all this mess.” He lightly kicked one of the table legs. “Let’s get out of this room. I can’t think in here. All of this should have been moved to the production van, but we haven’t had a chance with everything that has happened. As soon as I find Pike, I will get him on that. He’s the one who should be doing grunt work, not me.”

 

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