Death Bee Comes Her

by Nancy CoCo

  Dab honey on a cold sore to reduce itchiness and

  heal it quickly.

  Chapter 8

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked my aunt the next afternoon as we walked to the church. The town was laid out in a grid pattern that wound between the foot of the mountains and the branches of the river and creek that spilled from them. The founders of the town numbered the east-west facing streets except for Main Street, of course. They named the north-south facing streets after trees.

  Lumber is historically big business in Oregon and that means everyone has a special place in their heart for trees. Most of the houses in town were built between 1900 and 1930. The sidewalks were old and often lifted by tree roots. Trees grew tall and wide, shading homes. The streets alternated between paved and brick, creating a sense of history.

  “They’re always looking for volunteers to work the dessert tables at the senior coffees,” she assured me. “You’re volunteering. Volunteering is always a good idea. Now, you have that plate of honey almond cookies, right?”

  I held up the plate. “Right here.”

  “Cookies and volunteering, you are such a good person,” she said and directed me into the church. The building was a hundred years old and I knew the basement where they held the coffee would smell distinctly of age. It was the afternoon, and a light rain had started falling. I loved autumn in Oregon. The bright light of summer turned to the cool gray of a rainy Oregon winter. It was afternoon so it was light outside, but the gray mist probably wouldn’t end for months.

  I wore a bright green raincoat I’d gotten from a secondhand shop when I was a teen. It was a departure from the usual black or gray that most locals wore during the rainy season. I hadn’t figured out why they didn’t wear color. Maybe it was to blend in with the weather.

  We shook out our umbrellas and entered the church basement. Barbara Miller from the Books and More shop was cutting into a large sheet cake and dishing out pieces onto plates, while Judy Sellers was making punch with frozen strawberries, ice cream, and lemon-lime soda.

  “Good afternoon, ladies. We’re here to help,” Aunt Eloise said as we went over to the tables in the back of the room.

  “I brought cookies,” I said and lifted the plate. I felt uncomfortable and tried to hide it by being a tad too cheery.

  “Well, Wren Johnson,” Judy Sellers said and came over to shake my hand. “So nice to finally meet you. How are you?”

  Holding the plate in one hand I shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, too,” I said. “Things have been a little crazy since . . . well, I assume everyone knows.”

  “Oh, yes, the elephant in the room, should we say?” Judy winced. “What a terrible thing to come across. Poor Agnes, I hear you found her facedown in the sand. She would have had a fit being found like that. I’m sure there was sand in her hair.”

  “I don’t think she was aware,” I said and put my cookie platter down next to the plates of cake. “Aunt Eloise said you ladies needed volunteers for the church coffee this afternoon so I thought I’d help.”

  “Good thing,” Barbara said. Today she wore a black hoodie and black slacks with sturdy sensible shoes. “All the other ladies are prepping for Agnes’s wake. We thought we might cancel the coffee, but a lot of the seniors said they wanted to come before the wake and have a short meeting.”

  “What are these coffees about?” I asked and hung up my raincoat.

  “We talk about fund-raisers for the church and get together for social time,” Barbara replied. “Although I don’t think anyone will be feeling too social. But we have cake and punch just in case. Agnes would want it that way.”

  “Maybe we could take the leftovers to the wake,” I suggested. “Where is it being held?”

  “At the Blue Siren Bar and Grill,” Judy interjected. “But I think it’s best if you don’t go, dear. I understand your presence upset Bernie the other day.”

  “I didn’t do anything,” I said pointing out the obvious.

  “Yes, Eloise told us the whole thing,” Judy said. She was a tiny but fierce lady with white hair that hung in a perfect bob around her shoulders. I understand at one time it was red, but like some redheads she went all white at a young age. Her blue eyes were a very striking pale shade, and she played them up by wearing turquoise-colored blouses. “But you can’t tell that man anything once he’s made up his mind.”

  “And she would know,” Barbara said. “She was his personal secretary before he retired.”

  “I spent more time with that man than I did my own husband.”

  “Oh, right, what was that like?” I asked.

  “Sixty-hour workweeks over twenty years make for a lot of hours. My husband Fred and I have only been married ten years.”

  Aunt Eloise had been right about my volunteering at the church. Here was my chance to find out what Judy knew. “So you would know how close he was to Agnes.”

  “Oh, he only had eyes for her, no matter what some ladies will tell you,” Judy said.

  “What ladies?” I asked, sure I looked as aghast as I felt. Bernie was far from handsome.

  “Why most of the women in town over fifty,” Barbara said. “Except for me, of course. Ever since my Albert died, I’ve been devoted to my bookstore.”

  “I’m sorry, what do they find in Bernie?” I asked.

  “Well, honey, you might think he’s old, but some women are pretty lonely and Bernie was in a powerful position,” Judy said.

  “You’d be surprised how power plays into attraction,” Barbara said. “Do you mind manning the punch bowl?”

  “Not at all,” I said. “Wherever I can be useful.”

  People filed into the room and I went to my station. As the room filled up, I counted twenty-five people. I was surprised there were so many people here on a Saturday afternoon. Although most people were somber, they managed to eat cake and drink punch before the meeting.

  Aunt Eloise took my plate of cookies around and made sure they were taken and tasted. She gossiped with some of the ladies while I tried to identify everyone in the room. I wasn’t as familiar with Oceanview society as my aunt was. I’d only lived here for three years before college and then came back after my mother died to start the store.

  “What brings a young lady like you to the senior coffee?”

  I turned to see Richard Horowitz standing at the punch bowl with an empty cup in his hand. I took his cup and filled it up. Richard came into the shop often to see the bees. He told me once he was seventy-two years old, but he looked sixty-five if I were to guess. He was my height and round with a bald head. Today he wore jeans and a plaid shirt. “I heard you needed volunteers. Since Agnes’s death, I feel terrible about not being more involved in the community, so I thought I’d step in.”

  “That’s mighty nice of you,” Richard said. “I would have thought you’d be investigating old Agnes’s murder.”

  “Why would you say that?” I handed him his cup of punch.

  “Because you’re a person of interest, and I think you’re innocent,” he stated. “If it were me, I’d be investigating.”

  “Why? Do you know someone who would want to murder Agnes and frame me?”

  “Well, now that’s a very good question,” he said and sipped his punch, his dark eyes twinkling.

  “Are you telling me you know who?” I raised my eyebrows.

  “I have my suspicions.”

  “Who do you think it was?”

  He leaned in and I could smell wood smoke. Some of the older people still used wood-burning stoves to heat their homes. “My guess is it’s Linda Sloan. She has that candle shop on the other end of Main Street.”

  “Linda? Why?”

  “Agnes and she got into a fight last week,” he said. “At the senior center, and I wasn’t the only witness. It was quite heated because Agnes tried to get Linda to sell Agnes’s painted candles. Linda was reluctant, but Agnes threated to kick her off the garden club board if she didn’t do what Agnes wanted.
Linda has been the treasurer of the club for years. I don’t know what Agnes thought she had on Linda, but Linda was mad. The next day I noticed she had put Agnes’s candles in her front window.”

  I winced. “I can see why she would have wanted to kill Agnes, but why frame me?”

  “Your bee store is a direct candle competitor,” he pointed out. “Linda and Eloise have had a number of tiffs over the years. If you went to jail, Linda would be getting three birds for the price of one.”

  “She sounds like she has motive,” I agreed.

  “I think she has means, too.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “She has been known to buy poisons for the garden club. They take care of the flowers and such around town. Not to mention having prize gardens in their own homes.”

  “Maybe I should pay Linda a visit.”

  “You can’t,” he said. “She’s working on Agnes’s wake. I’m going to be interested in seeing how guilty she looks at the ceremony. I’m not the most astute guy, but I can tell when someone’s lying. I just might ask Linda myself how she feels about Agnes’s murder. It could get a rise out of her.”

  “Mr. Horowitz,” I said. “Maybe you shouldn’t confront her. If Linda is a killer, you don’t want her coming after you.”

  He winked at me. “I’m a bachelor. I’m used to women like Linda coming after me.”

  * * *

  I stayed to help clean up after the coffee, and Aunt Eloise and I closed up the church basement. “Did you find out anything?” I asked her.

  “Judith Cantrell loves to talk about her parrot, Pete,” Aunt Eloise said. “And Lori Anderson thinks that Amber Firth, the caterer of the Snows’ anniversary party, has got to be pulling her hair out. Lori is sure she has all the food prep done for the now-canceled party.”

  “But Bernie will let her keep the deposit, right?”

  “Sure, but what do you do with all that food?”

  “She could bring it over for the wake,” I said. “You saw how they devoured the cake and cookies. I’m sure the crowd at Agnes’s wake would enjoy the caterer’s food.”

  “Barbara already thought of that,” Aunt Eloise said. “But Amber’s crowd is at the Mulligan’s family reunion today. They didn’t have anyone to spare to finish cooking and then serving the food.”

  “Sounds like some charity is going to enjoy great catered food,” I said. “There are a lot of homeless shelters in the area.”

  “That’s what I suggested,” Aunt Eloise said. “Did you find out anything?”

  “Mr. Horowitz has a theory of who killed Agnes.”

  “Oh, and who does he think did it?” Aunt Eloise asked me as we walked back to the shop.

  I explained his theory about Linda.

  “That’s all well and good,” Aunt Eloise said. “But Linda and Agnes were like sisters, they fought and made up immediately. It happens.”

  “But, I’m sure my losing so much of my inventory isn’t going to hurt her candle shop, either,” I said. “Not with Halloweentown week starting tomorrow. I’ve got some candles made, but I’m behind and waiting for supplies to be shipped in. In the meantime, Linda has some gorgeous black and orange candles for sale. Even if I sold out, I wouldn’t be a threat to her now.”

  “Hmmm, it may not hurt to pay Linda a visit,” Aunt Eloise said. “Tomorrow morning, you and I should pop over to her place before the shops open. Maybe we can see if Mr. Horowitz’s theory holds any water.”

  “Sounds good to me,” I said. “But we have to do it early. I need to be in costume by ten when the store opens.”

  “Is there a lot of makeup involved?”

  “I’m going to be Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz,” I said. “So, no, not too much makeup. It’s good to go tomorrow, because after that my costumes get more and more elaborate. I wouldn’t have time to do them up right if I spent the morning at Linda’s place. Are you going to be in costume?”

  “I’m going to be a zombie cat lady,” Aunt Eloise said with a smile. “I’ve got face makeup and then I’m going to give Lug and the girls an outing. Emma will be on her leash and Evangeline will be in my cat pack on the back and Lug in my front-facing cat pack.”

  “Back pack and front pack? Won’t Emma be jealous?”

  “No, she prefers to be on a leash instead of carried.”

  “Oh, you could join me in my Wizard of Oz costume as the bicycling witch and put them all in a basket in front of your bicycle.”

  “They love each other, but three in one basket might overstress them,” Aunt Eloise said. “It’s a thought, though.”

  “Oh, man, I didn’t have time to ask anyone about the hat pin,” I said and felt disappointed in myself. “Do you think that Linda put it on my back door?”

  “It’s hard to tell, but she could have. Linda has an extensive costume jewelry collection. I wouldn’t put it past her to have hat pins in the collection.”

  “If they are her collection, then why sacrifice one in my back door?”

  “Maybe some part of her wanted you to know the threat came from her,” Aunt Eloise said.

  “Why would she think I’d connect the hat pin to her?”

  “You had to be investigating,” my aunt said. “That would be my guess.”

  “We need to go see Linda.”

  “I agree,” she said.

  “Listen, I’ve got to get back to work. There’s nothing more we can do today because I have to make more inventory. Thanks for taking me to the coffee, though. I think it added to our investigation.”

  “What about Officer Hampton?” she asked and gave me the side eye.

  “I think he’s doing a fine job of ensuring I’m indicted.”

  Aunt Eloise looked thoughtful. “I think he likes you.”

  “Seriously?” I studied her eyes to see if she was teasing.

  “Really,” she said sincerely. “You should see the way he looks at you when you’re not looking. Why do you think he’s always around?”

  “I thought he was making sure I didn’t leave town or, worse, hurt someone else.”

  “Hmm,” she said. Her mouth formed a crooked line. “You really haven’t dated in a while, have you?”

  “I’ve been focused on getting the store up and running and I’m making my inventory myself. It’s a lot of work.”

  “All work and no play makes for a hard life.”

  “Making hand lotions, lip balms, body lotions, candles, and candy are playing for me,” I argued.

  “It’s Saturday night and you are young. I think you should think about going out to dinner with the man.”

  “What?” I must have looked shocked. “Again, he’s trying to put me in jail. What is up with you and Porsche? She said the same thing.”

  Aunt Eloise gave me a side eye. “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

  We parted ways and I went into the store. It was four o’clock, time for Porsche to go home and take care of her family. Everett and I would close up at seven and then take our nightly walk. It dawned on me that I was as much a creature of habit as my cat. That meant that a bad guy could easily know my whereabouts on any day. Combine that with the fact that my products were easily bought with cash, and I was an excellent target. No wonder the killer had chosen to frame me.

  Honey’s antioxidant properties are being studied

  as a possible cancer treatment.

  Chapter 9

  My mother used to say that when you go visiting someone you should take a hostess gift. For me it was honey almond cookies. I had a plate ready and went knocking on Linda’s door. It was 10 a.m. on Sunday and I knew she would be home from church. I hadn’t waited for Aunt Eloise because I had a new idea of how to get Linda to open up. I hoped it would work.

  “Coming,” came the call from inside. Linda opened the door and seemed momentarily surprised. An average-sized woman, Linda was my aunt’s age and had been running the candle shop her entire life. Today she wore a pink tunic with black leggings and black
socks. Her blonde hair was cut in a fresh bob. She had the look of a woman of standing and wealth. “Wren Johnson, what are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to visit and I brought you some cookies.” I tried to look innocent and held my plate out to her.

  She took it without thinking. For an awkward moment she debated letting me in or not. Finally, she blurted, “I have no idea why you would come visit me.”

  I had my story ready. “I need your help.”

  “Whatever for?”

  “May I come in?” I asked.

  She bit her bottom lip then relented. “Yes, come on in.” She held the door for me with her back. Her hands were full of cookies. “Take a seat in the living room and I’ll make us some coffee. You do drink coffee, right?”

  “I do,” I said as she disappeared down the center hall to what I assumed was the kitchen. The house was warm and designer decorated. To my left was a living room and beyond was a formal dining area. To the right was a closed door, most likely leading to a bedroom. Behind that were the kitchen and, I assumed, the stairs to the second floor.

  I remembered she was in stockinged feet. “Would you like me to remove my shoes?” I called after her. Some people don’t like shoes on their carpets. Her place was spotless, so I guessed the same was true for her.

  “Please.”

  I slipped off my knockoff Keds, set them in the hallway near the door, then stepped into the living room. Five pillar candles burned in the fireplace instead of logs and the room smelled of pumpkin spice and maple. The decor was clean and beachy with white walls and pale blue furniture. I took a seat on the couch.

  The picture over the fireplace was a wide-angle shot of the shops along Main Street with Sloan’s Candle Store in the center.

  The home had candles on nearly every flat surface. They seemed to watch me disapprovingly. I leaned back on the couch as Linda entered with a tray of coffee and my plate of cookies. She set them down on the coffee table and took a seat in a blue-and-white floral-printed chair. “I have cream and sugar if you want some.” She gestured toward the tray.

  I picked up my cup. “No thank you, I like my coffee black.” As I put my cup to my lips it occurred to me that Agnes was murdered by poison. It might not be a good idea to eat or drink anything in Linda’s home. I pretended to sip and put my cup down.