Eat, Drink and Be Wary

by Devon Delaney

  “Sherry?” Oxana beckoned. “My English is not so good, but I’m learning.” She paused. “I don’t want to get Pep in, how do you say, dagger?”

  Sherry faced Oxana and willed her to come up with the word she was struggling for. “Dagger?”

  “Dan. No. Daj. No.” Oxana grabbed her throat with both hands and stuck her tongue out of her gaping mouth.

  “Danger?” Sherry shouted. She covered her mouth with her hand when she realized she wasn’t playing charades. “Danger,” she repeated in a hushed tone.

  “Where’s the danger?” a voice called out.

  Sherry turned toward the voice. “Vilma. What are you doing here?” Sherry regretted the urgent tone she used to address Vilma. “I mean, seems like we can’t avoid each other wherever we go, right?”

  “I think you know what’s going on here.” Vilma nodded as she approached.

  “What’s that?” Sherry’s head swiveled from Vilma to Oxana and back again.

  “You’ve found out I’ve been tutoring Oxana in English, and you wanted to know if I’m doing a good job.” Vilma produced a startling laugh without cracking a smile.

  “I was just introducing myself to the young lady Ginger speaks so highly of.” Sherry’s gaze darted toward Oxana, who returned a look of confusion.

  “Do we have a session today?” Oxana asked Vilma. “I hope I haven’t, how you say, messed up the schedule.”

  “No, dear,” Vilma replied. “I was summoned to the inn’s library by Ginger to meet with her and Sherry. I thought I’d come say hi because Ginger’s not ready yet.” Vilma shifted her attention to Sherry. “Glad I did. I could use a moment alone with you, Sherry. That is, unless you’re not done speaking with Oxana. It sounded like you were discussing danger?”

  Oxana peered over her shoulder toward the back of the barn. She returned her gaze to Sherry. “We’re done. Must get back to work. Nice to meet to you, Sherry.”

  “The proper way to say your sentence is ‘nice to meet you,’” Vilma corrected.

  Sherry detected the slightest eye roll from Oxana before the young lady walked away.

  Vilma swung her arm forward. “Shall we step outside?” Vilma led Sherry out the barn door. She lowered her voice. “I wouldn’t frighten Oxana with questions about the murder. She’s like a deer in headlights right now. She happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time when she found Fitz’s body. She told me she’s haunted by the fact she was in the room with his dead body for almost an hour before she discovered him. She couldn’t even manage to tell me that in English, she was so distraught.”

  “Didn’t ask her a thing about the murder,” Sherry remarked with a nonchalance that chilled the air. “Did Ginger get our meeting times confused? Why would she set up a meeting with you and me at the same time?”

  “Ginger wants to see both of us. She has a strong notion about the Fitz case, and she wants to run it by us.”

  Sherry scanned the surroundings for anyone within earshot. When she was satisfied she was alone with Vilma, she took a step closer to the woman. “Vilma, we aren’t doing this together. My interest is in giving Pep relief from being on the suspect list in the investigation. I don’t see how that’s any concern of yours. I’m trying to be nice here, but you’ve bad-mouthed my friend Patti Mellitt, you’ve inserted yourself into my attempt to help my brother, you’ve sent me on a wild goose chase to find Lyman, only to get dunked in the Long Island Sound, and frankly, I’m almost getting the impression that you’re following me.” Sherry, so unused to taking a harsh tone with anyone, saw stars dance across her vision because she forgot to inhale in a timely manner.

  Vilma’s eyebrows lifted and her nostrils flared. “I, too, am trying to be nice.” Vilma’s accent surfaced with a vengeance. “I’ve got a job to do, and that means getting my story, whether you like it or not. Mark my words. It’s going to be a blockbuster.” She set her shoulders back and relaxed her facial muscles. “I don’t want to see your brother charged with any crime he didn’t commit, obviously. On the other hand, it’s quite curious he’s Oxana’s friend. Convenient, some would say. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  Sherry wondered if her cheeks were betraying her attempt not to become rattled. She bit the inside of her cheek to hopefully cool any flush. “I don’t like what you’re suggesting. You don’t know the first thing about my brother, so don’t go making assumptions about his relationships. What makes you privy to what goes on at the inn concerning Oxana, anyway?”

  “For your information, I got Oxana her job at the inn. I go way back with the Constable family. Clarence was the first person who took an interest in me when I came to this country many years ago. He let me stay at the inn when I barely had enough money to buy bread, let alone pay my room fee.”

  “The Constable family has always been very charitable.”

  “I wouldn’t consider myself a charity case. Needed a minute to get on my feet, that’s all.” Vilma repositioned the glasses resting on top of her head.

  “How do you know Oxana and Pep are friends?”

  “Oxana has had me translate a few of your brother’s text messages she’s received. It would be a shame if that information got into the hands of anyone suspecting Pep. Seems like it would add fuel to the fire to have him connected to the woman who found the body of the man he’d had a dispute with. I’d be happy to keep that fact to myself in exchange for one small favor.”

  “What would that be?”

  “I’m going to keep my nose to the ground and crack this case, and I’d like your full cooperation. No one will question Sherry Oliveri sniffing around her hometown of Augustin. As a matter of fact, the citizens of this fair town have come to expect that response from you when a murder happens here. What I need is for you to keep me in the loop. You could even call yourself my field reporter, if you like. That’s an exciting way of labeling your sleuthing. Do we have a deal?”

  “It’s not so much a deal as a squeeze play by you, but I guess I have no choice.”

  “Perfect,” Vilma said with a sweetness as artificial as saccharin. “Now, let’s go find Ginger.”

  Chapter 14

  Sherry and Vilma were seated in wingback chairs positioned beside the massive stone fireplace. Ginger paced across the inn’s library floor. “Thanks for meeting with me.”

  “You’re welcome,” Sherry replied. “Compliments to the grounds and the gardener. Your gardens are lovely. I wish I’d seen them at their prime earlier in the summer. The lilacs must have been spectacular.”

  “Thanks. I’m the gardener, when I get time. The deer are tending the bushes right now and making an awful mess.” Ginger let out a sigh. “If it’s not one problem, it’s another.”

  “I make my own deer repellent, and I think it does a good job, if I do say so myself. Water, vinegar, peppermint oil, canola oil, and hot sauce. I mix it in a spray bottle and spritz the plants after every rain. I’ll bring you some next time I’m in the area.”

  “I’d appreciate that,” Ginger said. “You’re so multitalented. You should sell the stuff at the farmer’s market.”

  Sherry saw Vilma check her wristwatch and frown. “Can we discuss flora and fauna later. I’m on a tight schedule.”

  “I’ll get right to the point,” Ginger replied. “I have a theory about Fitz’s death I want to run by you two.”

  “Why us two?” Sherry asked.

  “Vilma has been extremely helpful providing me what little information there is about Fitz’s death. I need this murder investigation to be solved ASAP, so the inn can get back on whatever shaky ground it has left. This is a black eye on the inn’s reputation I needed like a hole in the head.”

  “That’s one way to put it,” Vilma agreed.

  Ginger faced Vilma. “You’ve taken it upon yourself to help me keep the inn from being defamed by a prolonged scandal. I’m so lucky you’re staying here, otherwise you may never have had any interest in pursuing the truth.”

  Sherry watched a grin wash over Vilm
a’s face. The tall woman smoothed her hair, pulled tight in a bun.

  “You’re so kind, but I do have selfish reasons for seeing the murderer brought to justice,” Vilma responded.

  Sherry leaned in.

  “I want the New England Fall Food Fest Cook-off to be held in the area every year. Covering the action has been the highlight of my journalism career. When the story’s published, the game will be changed.”

  “I know you’re right.” Ginger focused on Sherry. “As for you, Sherry, from what Vilma tells me, it’s no secret Pep is in some hot water because of the fight he had with Fitz. I know you’d like to find the killer for that reason.”

  Sherry side-eyed Vilma. “Pep had nothing to do with Fitz’s murder.” Sherry spat the words out with renewed intensity. “Don’t believe everything you hear.”

  “We know that, but it has to be proven. That’s beside the point,” Ginger stated.

  “How could that be beside the point?” Vilma shook her head. “Enlighten me. What’s the point?”

  “I’m letting the cat out of the bag now. Uri and I have become fast friends”—Ginger winked and grinned a sly smile—“since he arrived last week to help coordinate the cook-off. He’d prefer I didn’t talk about our relationship, but it’s hard to keep the secret.”

  Sherry cringed as she recalled Vilma’s adoring glances in Uri’s direction the previous night at the Taproom. Vilma began bobbing her foot. If she bobbed it with any more vigor, her fashionable ankle boot was in danger of becoming a projectile.

  “Doesn’t he change his mind quickly,” Vilma commented under her breath.

  “Uri came into my life at a low point and has brightened my outlook beyond measure. Long story short, he’s promised us a future together. He will use the only money I have left in my name, my retirement savings, to save his business and build us a nest egg. I wasn’t going to touch that money until I’m old and gray anyway, so why not invest the funds with Uri. He promises growth. Saying good-bye to the inn will be hard, but he said everything will be fine.”

  Sherry straightened up and intertwined her hands. “Ginger, I can’t tell you what to do with your life, but have you given this enough thought? How well do you know this man?”

  “Sherry, I’m not a spring chicken. I may not get too many more, or any, opportunities to find someone I can spend the second half of my life with.” Ginger faced Sherry. “Problem is, I’m not so sure Uri didn’t have something to do with Fitz’s death.”

  “What? No.” Sherry shook her head. “Why would you think that?”

  “Vilma told me Uri told her that Roe, his hire, was dead set on settling a score with Fitz. Right, Vilma?” Ginger nodded in Vilma’s direction.

  “That’s right. The night of the contestant party, when Pep was finished giving Fitz the business about who knows what, Roe stepped in and picked up where Pep left off. I know because I’d taken a stroll with Uri to get some fresh air and talk some business. When we returned, Uri was the one who separated Roe and Fitz before fists could fly.” Vilma glanced at Ginger.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not the jealous type,” Ginger added. “Business is business.”

  “Nothing to be jealous about,” Vilma muttered. She raised her voice. “Uri is strangely protective of Roe. When I interviewed the two, post cook-off, Uri answered every question for Roe, to the point where I stopped asking. I’m usually very good at getting answers, but every time Roe began to speak, Uri cut him off.”

  “You still haven’t given reasons why Uri may have been in on Fitz’s murder,” Sherry insisted. “You should be careful planting seeds of guilt in people’s minds without just cause. Especially if your boyfriend is involved.”

  “I’m not certain Uri was involved, but, Sherry, I want you to prove he wasn’t,” Ginger stated. “My brother, Addison, told me Uri and Roe are hiding something. I think Addison, bless his heart, is protecting his big sister.”

  “You may want to listen to your brother,” Sherry suggested. “I agree you may be in need of some level of protection.”

  “Did Addison elaborate?” Vilma asked. “I mean, everyone is hiding something, but a murder, now that’s quite a secret.”

  “Can you think of a motive Uri may have for wanting Fitz dead?” Sherry asked.

  “Maybe because Fitz didn’t get into the cook-off through ordinary channels?” Ginger answered. “Bad reflection on Maine Course as a sponsor?”

  “True, but, is that worthy of murder? I mean, Maine Course wasn’t the cook-off’s only sponsor,” Sherry said.

  “You’re right,” Ginger said. “Still, I can’t shake the vibe I get from Uri. Like he’s hiding something.”

  “Remind me, how long have you known him?” Vilma asked.

  “Not long. When the attraction is real, time is meaningless.” Ginger sighed.

  “No offense, but there must be literally a lifetime of things you don’t know about the man.”

  “I do know he doesn’t like when I bring up Fitz’s name in any context,” Ginger added.

  The corner of Vilma’s mouth lifted. “Then he’s not going to like the fact that I’m including Fitz’s unique cook-off situation in my article. But to murder the guy because he was granted a spot in a cook-off at the last minute? I agree with Sherry. That’s a stretch.”

  “Okay. A stretch.” Ginger paused. “Consider this. Fitz owns the building Uri’s processing plant is housed in—”

  “How do you know that?” Vilma interrupted. “I made some calls, and I didn’t find Maine Course or Shrimply Amazing housed in any of Frye’s properties.”

  “Uri said the processing is done a step removed from the Maine Course corporate umbrella but is closely monitored by his company. People wouldn’t necessarily know there was a relationship between the companies, unless they delved into the company books. Uri says he runs a tight ship, which I find so endearing.” Ginger’s eyes glazed over, and the corners of her mouth curled upward.

  “Explains how it was legit for Fitz to enter a cook-off Maine Course was a sponsor of, without there being a conflict of interest. So, no problem there. No disputes between building owner, fish processor, and Uri’s company that you know of?” Sherry asked.

  Ginger shook her head. She offered no comment.

  Sherry removed her phone from her purse. She glanced at the time. “So far, you haven’t made a case for Uri being involved.”

  “I know, I know.” Ginger began to pace again. She lowered her head. “The night of the party, before the guests arrived, I was visiting Uri in his room.”

  Sherry side-eyed Vilma, who was intently watching Ginger.

  “Busy man,” Vilma mouthed.

  “When Uri let me in, I was passed by Roe leaving the room, presumably going back to his own room. Not a big deal, except, once inside, I caught sight of a catalogue folded open on the bureau top. It was a fishing equipment catalogue, judging by what I saw on the page.”

  “And what did you see on the page?” Vilma asked with a chilly nonchalance.

  “A full page of fishing hooks.”

  The room became so quiet, Sherry was certain the other two women could hear her heart pounding. She saw Ginger’s eyes well up with tears. “Remember to never assume the worst. Roe is somehow connected to the fishing industry, so maybe they were doing research. Makes sense.” The words Sherry uttered didn’t alter the frown on Ginger’s face or the stunned look on Vilma’s.

  “Just a coincidence a fishing hook was lodged in Fitz’s neck when his body was found?” Vilma posed the question she appeared to know the answer to.

  “Sherry, how quickly can you find the killer, so my Uri and your Pep are found innocent?” Ginger begged.

  “That is unless you find one of them guilty, and I don’t mean Pep,” Vilma offered.

  “Vilma,” Ginger said, “I thought you were on my side.”

  Addison poked his head through the library doorway. “Excuse me. Ginger, we have a situation out in the corn maze.”

  Ginger halt
ed her pacing and faced her brother. “What in the world could that be? It’s not even finished yet.”

  Addison stayed outside the room but craned his neck through the doorway. “Actually, I just finished it. Now, a guest’s toddler is stuck in the maze.”

  “Stuck? How?”

  “I was removing the Do Not Enter caution tape when somehow the little girl slipped inside, and no one can find her. Her mom says she knows she’s in trouble and is staying silent. Seems whenever the little one gets into mischief, she won’t answer her mother, so she’s not responding to her name being called. I don’t want to alarm the other guests. Would you mind lending a hand corralling the kid? If we close in together from different angles, she can’t evade us.”

  “Sorry, ladies. I have to go,” Ginger apologized.

  “I’m coming, too. An extra hand will speed up the rescue. Coming, Vilma?” Sherry asked.

  “Look at the time,” Vilma remarked, even before she pulled her phone out to check it. “I’m already late.”

  “Come on, Sherry. Let’s get over to the maze.” Ginger tossed her hand up in a wave. “Thanks for your time, Vilma. I’ll be in touch.” Ginger pulled Sherry out of her chair with a tug of her arm.

  Following Addison’s lead, the two women took a shortcut through the red barn. Beyond the barn, they followed a pebbled path that led them to the giant banner hailing the entrance to the enormous corn maze. A woman, presumably the child’s mother, stood vigil outside the labyrinth. Her arms were hugged tight around her waist.

  “I didn’t know the inn had this much land.” Sherry contemplated the vast cornfield.

  “It’s amazing, right? This parcel of land is leased to the neighboring farm, and every fall they give us the right to construct a maze out of their harvested cornfield. Dad made the arrangement the minute he learned corn mazes were moneymakers during fall festivals.” Ginger turned to the woman positioned next to an empty stroller. “Stay right here, Mrs. Alvarez, in case your daughter finds her way out before we find her.”