Death Bee Comes Her

by Nancy CoCo

  I sent her a thumbs-up emoji and finished straightening shelves. My five hours’ worth of work this morning had only begun to replace the missing inventory. If I wasn’t careful, I could lose Porsche. She wasn’t working for me for no reason. I could take the pay cut. After all, Let It Bee gave me free living space. I could always eat at Aunt Eloise’s place. But austere measures only worked for a short time.

  Making a list of ingredients needed to build more inventory, I worked the room. I felt a tug at my skirt and turned to see a little boy with big brown eyes dressed as a cowboy. “Excuse me,” he said in the cutest voice.

  “What can I do for you?” I glanced around to see if he had a parent with him. There weren’t many people in the shop besides Porsche and me, but that didn’t mean much. “Are you lost?”

  “I like your bees. I have bees in my backyard. I . . . I went barefoot, one time, and stepped on one. It hurt. Mama told me that a bee dies after it stings you. Did I kill that bee by stepping on it?”

  “Yes, honey,” I said and got down on his level. “I’m afraid that honeybees are the only bees that die when they sting you. You see, the stinger is useful for protection against other insects. But people’s skin is too tough for the stinger and the bee gets stuck. Once the bee is stuck, getting unstuck will kill it.”

  “That’s quite a gruesome tale,” a male voice said.

  I glanced up to see Conrad standing over the boy with his hand on his shoulder. “He asked me if it was true.”

  The boy turned to Conrad. “I accidently killed the bee.” He looked close to tears. “Grammy says I have to wear shoes so it doesn’t happen ’gain.”

  “That’s a very good idea,” I said and stood

  “Cowboy boots will work too, right?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Conrad and I answered at the same time.

  “Is this your boy?” I asked.

  “Yes, this is William. William this is my friend, Wren.”

  “No,” William said solemnly with a shake of his head. “That is the Wicked Witch.”

  “Well, yes, I am wearing a Wicked Witch costume,” I said. “But underneath, I’m a normal person named Wren.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m dressed up for Halloween. Just like you are dressed as a cowboy.”

  “I am a cowboy,” he said.

  “I see,” I said. “I’m sorry but I didn’t know.”

  “I’m going to go watch the bees.” He sprinted off to the bee wall.

  “I didn’t know you had a son,” I said.

  “Yeah,” Conrad said. “I thought I’d bring him by today to meet you. How are you?”

  “I thought you were out of town until the weekend?”

  “William’s grandmother had an emergency and needed me to come get him.”

  “Where’s William’s mom?” I crossed my arms over my chest and tried not to let my disappointment show. Was Conrad married?

  “She died when William was two. A drunk driver took her from us.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, overcome with the urge to hug him. “That’s terrible.”

  “We’re getting better every day,” he said. “Sandy, my wife, well, her mom lives in Oceanview. It’s also why I want to move here. William needs a woman in his life.”

  “It must be tough being a single parent.”

  “It has its good days and its bad days.” He smiled at me. “I like your costume.”

  “I’m sorry, I thought he was wearing a costume.”

  “Oh, he is,” Conrad said. “It’s just that he’s an all-in kind of guy. If he’s dressed as a cowboy, then he’s a cowboy.”

  I smiled. “I have a bee book you can have for him. He really seems interested.”

  “Thanks,” he said. “Is it a picture book?”

  “Yes, and age appropriate. I get a lot of preschoolers interested in the beehive. I like that.” I went over to the book rack and pulled out a bee book that was at the bottom of the rack. “He’ll like this.”

  “Great.” Conrad pulled out his wallet.

  “No, this one is on me,” I said. “It’s the least I can do.”

  “Thanks, Wren.” He smiled. “Are we still on for dinner on Saturday?”

  “Yes, I’d like that.”

  “Me, too.” He peered around the store, spotting his son trying to reach a candle. “Well, I’d better get William. It’s snack time.”

  “I wouldn’t want to get in the way of a growing boy’s snack time.”

  He laughed and gathered up his boy. “Say goodbye, William.”

  “Goodbye, William,” the boy repeated and waved to me.

  “Goodbye,” I said and waved back.

  “So, Conrad has a son?” Porsche asked.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “And the mom?”

  “She was killed in a drunk driver incident two years ago.”

  “Oh, that’s terrible. Say, aren’t you due at the Coffee Bar?”

  I glanced at my phone and tried not to curse. It was five minutes after three. “I’ll be back by four,” I said and rushed out. The Coffee Bar was three blocks away. A misty rain was falling. I was glad for my witch’s hat, but the brim funneled the water down to a spot that ran straight down the back of my neck.

  I hurried into the coffee shop and took my hat off to shake it out.

  “Well, if it isn’t the Wicked Witch of the West,” I heard someone say.

  I glanced up to see my nemesis, Frankie Hillary. She was dressed as Glinda the Good Witch.

  “And what,” she said, “brings a serial killer to the Coffee Bar?”

  Chapter 15

  “Funny seeing you here,” I said, not letting her comment bother me. Frankie decided to be my enemy the moment we met, which was the first day I was the new girl at Oceanview High. I never really knew why. My mom once said that some people just don’t like you. It doesn’t matter what you do.

  Frankie had gone to Berkeley, married into money, and stayed in California after she graduated from college. She was wearing an elaborate and expensive costume, but you could still see the seventy-dollar manicure and expensive nose job. She rarely returned to Oceanview. She had made it clear on graduation day that it was too small town for her.

  “Not so funny,” she said. “I’m visiting my parents for the week. So, I hear you murdered the Snows. What for? Just for the fun of it? Or did they make you angry? Should I be worried? Should I hire a bodyguard?”

  “Frankly, I don’t care what you do.” I turned and walked over to where my aunt and an older woman, whom I assumed was Betty, were sitting having coffee. “So sorry I’m late. I was dealing with a customer.”

  I turned my phone recorder on in my pocket as I sat down.

  “Oh, my, it’s not every day I have a coffee date with the Wicked Witch of the East, is it?” the older woman said.

  “Yes.” I put my hat down beside me on the table. “It’s not every day I get to be the Wicked Witch of the East.”

  “Weren’t you just talking to your counterpart?” the woman asked.

  “Frankie Hillary is not my counterpart,” I said. “In fact, she’s not ‘my’ anything.”

  Aunt Eloise sucked in a breath and looked over her shoulder. “What’s she doing in town? I thought she was living in California.”

  “She’s back for a visit and managed to bring a costume,” I muttered. “I was going to order coffee, but I’d rather join you ladies. Hi, Betty is it? I’m Wren, Wren Johnson.”

  “Nice to meet you, Wren.” Betty said. She had steel-gray hair that was cut short and warm green eyes that were rimmed in red from tears. I would not have pegged her for a murderer.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss. Were you and Mr. Snow close?”

  “Bernie and I were ten years apart in age. He only had time for me when he needed a family connection for an election.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  She stirred her latte. “It’s okay. Actually, I got to be an only child most of my life. H
e was more like an uncle to me than a brother. Still,” she said, putting her elbow on the table and resting her cheek in her palm, “I’m going to miss him. It was strange to go to Agnes’s funeral and now his will be so soon after hers. I’m going to have to deal with taking care of their stuff and putting their house on the market and all the things that go with it.”

  “We can help,” I said and glanced at my aunt. “When you have to clean out the house and pack up things.”

  “Really? That would be amazing. I don’t know how I’m going to do it. I’ve taken ten days off from work, but I don’t know where to start.”

  Aunt Eloise covered Betty’s hand with hers. “I can help with that. When my brother passed, I had to deal with everything. You have to do it systematically. When do you want to start? I’ll set up a plan.”

  “Bernie’s funeral is on Friday. Can we start next week?”

  “Certainly.”

  “Can I wait to call you when I’m ready?” She looked at me as if lost.

  “Yes,” I said.

  Betty brushed tears away from her eyes. “Excuse me, ladies. I’ve got to go powder my nose.” She got up and went to the restroom.

  I noticed Glinda the Good Witch was shooting me angry glances. I had no idea what I did to her so I ignored it.

  “That was a brilliant suggestion,” Aunt Eloise started.

  I raised my finger and reached into my pocket to turn off the recording. “Yes. I thought this would be our chance to dig into the Snows’ secrets. By the way, Betty doesn’t seem to be a murderous sibling.”

  “She was telling me that she would have never sued her brother except her friend, Mildred, encouraged it. She harangued Betty at every turn until Betty thought she was right and contacted a lawyer. The lawyer took it from there.”

  “How’s Mildred involved?” I wondered out loud. “That wretched woman claims she saw me talking to Agnes. What is that all about?”

  “I don’t know, but maybe we’ll find out after packing up the Snows’ place.”

  Betty came back to the table with a new latte. “I got you a coffee. I hope you are good with a latte.”

  “Perfect, thank you,” I said. “But it should be us taking care of you.”

  “Oh, I’ll be fine,” she said and sat down. “Everyone has been so nice. My friend Mildred—Mildred Woolright—is coming over to spend the night with me. I’m going to meet her at the funeral home in an hour to go over the preparations for Bernie’s funeral.”

  “How is Mildred?” Aunt Eloise said.

  “She’s okay. She turns seventy next week. Her husband, Theodore, is throwing her a giant surprise party at the Ritz in Portland. She will be so amazed. It’s all very hush-hush, so please don’t tell her.”

  “I won’t,” I said and sipped my coffee. “She doesn’t like me.”

  “Why ever not?” Betty asked. “Everybody loves you—even Agnes. They think the world of your shop.”

  “Mildred claims to have seen Wren with Agnes the morning she died,” Aunt Eloise said.

  “What?”

  “I don’t understand it,” I said. “I wasn’t with Agnes. I swear to you.”

  “But Mildred picked Wren out of a lineup,” Aunt Eloise said. “Do you have any idea why she would do that?”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t have a clue. You say you weren’t with Agnes?”

  “No, I was at home making inventory for the store,” I said. “But let’s not talk about it. I don’t want to get between you and Mildred. You need her and we just want to help support you.”

  Betty sat back. “Gosh, maybe I shouldn’t be seen with you two. I mean, if Mildred thinks you are involved in Agnes’s murder and now you found Bernie’s body . . . what will people think?”

  “Oh dear,” I said and pushed back from the table. “I don’t want to upset you. You’re absolutely right. I should go.”

  “Wait, wait,” she said and touched my arm. “I’m sorry. I think it’s the grief. I don’t know what to think anymore. I didn’t mean to insult you. Clearly you don’t look like a killer. This entire thing has gotten me all messed up.”

  “Oh, no,” I said. “I should go. You and Aunt Eloise can talk for a while. It’s okay. I’m not insulted.”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  I gave my aunt a small hug and whispered, “Talk to you tonight.” Then I turned to Betty. “Nice to meet you. Thanks again for the latte. If you need anything let me know.”

  “I will, dear,” she said.

  I left, pausing to smile at Frankie before I walked out the door. I made a mental note to figure out why she was in town.

  * * *

  Jim came by as I closed the shop.

  “You’re going to give me a bad reputation,” I said. “People already think I’m guilty of killing Agnes. It doesn’t help that you are here every day.”

  “It’s a good distraction for them,” he said. “Did you and your aunt speak to Betty?”

  “Yes,” I said. “But she seems as innocent as I am. Seriously, she’s torn up inside.”

  “So you learned nothing.”

  “We offered to help her clean out the Snows’ house. She agreed. We’re to meet with her on Sunday. Do you think this is about what Bernie and Agnes were caught up in?”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “Maybe because he had political ties. Maybe he didn’t deliver on something and someone was upset. Then again, we think Agnes was blackmailing people.”

  “I told you that’s a crazy theory and you need actual proof.”

  “What about that ledger? The one with our fingerprints on it?”

  “It was a list of names and amounts paid,” he said. “Not exactly blackmail evidence.”

  “Unless we can prove it is,” I said. “Who knows, maybe we’ll find more proof when we pack up the Snows’ house.”

  “I doubt that. If she was blackmailing people and Bernie found out, it might have been enough for someone to kill him, too. Which means if you find out something, you will be next. So, why don’t you drop it and let me work on that?”

  “Maybe because I’m still your number one suspect,” I said and narrowed my eyes. “Aren’t I?”

  He didn’t answer me.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t be working with you.”

  “What did your lawyer say?”

  I folded my arms over my chest. “Matt said I should cooperate.”

  “There you have it. I’ve made a note that you are cooperating.”

  “Do you really think I did it?”

  He blew out a breath and leaned toward me. “It doesn’t matter what I think, Wren. I’m just chasing down clues. I’ve got the mayor on my case to get this solved fast. It’s hurting tourism.”

  “Funny,” I said. “My store is doing very well. Linda is happy with her sales as well.”

  “You think this is someone trying to drum up business?”

  I bit my bottom lip. “It does add a certain lure to Halloweentown.”

  “You’re reaching.”

  “Yeah, I guess I am. Sorry I wasn’t much help. Is that all you needed?”

  “For now,” he said.

  “Great, I’ll let you out.” I unlocked the door and it cackled as I opened it. He stepped out and turned.

  “Let me know if you find anything tangible in your investigation.”

  “Sure, my lawyer first, then you.”

  “I’m serious, Wren.”

  “Me, too,” I said and closed the door.

  I watched him walk to his squad car and get inside. Then I locked the door. The shop was quiet. Everett waited for me on the counter. “Come on, it’s dinnertime.” I picked him up and carried him upstairs.

  * * *

  Aunt Eloise stopped by at seven. “What do you have for dessert?”

  “I made cookies,” I said. “Honey flats, I’m calling them. They are a sugar cookie made from honey. I’m trying to decide if they need icing or not. Have a seat. I’ll make
some coffee and bring us a plate.”

  She sat on my couch. “Have you heard anything from your reporter friend?”

  “No,” I said, as I poured coffee and placed the cookies on a plate. “She seems to be notably absent.”

  “You should contact her and see what her investigation is turning up.”

  I put the plate of cookies down on the coffee table and went back for the coffees. “Good point.” I handed her a coffee with cream and sugar and sat across from her. Aunt Eloise picked up a cookie and tried it.

  “These are good. Great texture. I think you can sell them without icing and with.”

  “Thanks. So what did we learn from Betty?”

  “Well,” my aunt curled up on the love seat and wrapped her hands around the mug. “I don’t believe that Betty is strong enough to have killed her brother.”

  “I agree. In fact, I told Officer Hampton that I don’t think Betty is the killer.”

  “The real question is, What does Mildred Woolright have to do with this?”

  “Yes, her name keeps coming up and I think I know why.” I went to my desk, where I’d printed off a copy of Agnes’s client list. “Remember Agnes was taking money from Mr. Woolright?”

  “Yes,” Aunt Eloise said. “Is he on her list?”

  “Right here.” I pointed to the line on the paper and handed it to her. “All told Mr. Woolright gave Agnes five thousand dollars. I think we need to visit him and find out why.”

  “Great idea,” Aunt Eloise said. “Wait, I know Carson Edwards. He’s on this list.” She studied me. “We’ve been friends forever. I’m certain he’ll tell me what Agnes was up to. If he can confirm she was blackmailing him, then we have a lot more people with motive.”

  “What about Mildred Woolright’s false eyewitness account?”

  “Eyewitnesses are notoriously wrong,” she said. “I think that’s why the police haven’t charged you yet.”

  “Do you think Mildred is covering for her husband? Is that why she says she saw me speaking to Agnes?”

  “Maybe,” Aunt Eloise said. “I’ll find out more tomorrow when I talk to Carson. In the meantime, you need to keep a careful record of everywhere you go and when.”

  I raised my wrist. “I bought a Fitbit. It keeps a record of everywhere I go.”

  “Good girl. Now I’m going to go. You lock up behind me and don’t take Everett out unless you absolutely need to—and since he’s a cat there is no reason for you to need to.” She took a breath. “In other words, stay home.”