No Cone Unturned (Apple Orchard Cozy Mystery Book 12)

by Chelsea Thomas

  As we discussed Todd’s planner, I hoped that we would discover that his associate at Washington Villages was a cute, little, old lady who loved him very much. We hadn’t discovered many heartwarming facts about Todd so I knew my prayers for a sweet granny type were unlikely to be answered. The guy seemed so terrible, which in a way made his murder easier to stomach. Still, I wanted some evidence of his good side.

  Everyone has a good side, right?

  Washington Villages was Pine Grove’s premier 55 and older living community. It consisted of quite a few townhouse style apartment units, plus several recreational buildings, including a wonderful cafeteria, a library, a movie theater and an indoor tennis court.

  The sun was setting in the distance as we pulled up to the community and the whole place was awash in a gentle, calming glow. An elderly couple walked hand-in-hand through the parking lot. An employee gave them a bright smile and a big wave. Sprinklers watered the immaculate front lawn.

  “When I’m old enough I want to live in a place like this.” Teeny let out a satisfied sigh. “So beautiful, so serene, so many good places to get your steps in. The only downside is there’s too many old people.”

  “Hate to break it to you but you’re more than old enough,” said Miss May.

  Teeny shook her head. “Technically, that may be true. Numerically speaking. But I’m young at heart and I’m spry. When I stop feeling spry I’m going to move here. And I’m going to eat sprinkles for every meal.”

  “You already eat sprinkles for most meals,” I said.

  “You two are so annoying,” said Teeny.

  Miss May chuckled as she pulled up to the security gate. On prior visits, all we’d needed to do was provide our names and we would get visitor passes. But that was no longer the case. Because there was a new head of security at the villages. Her name was Kim Johnson. She was ruddy, short, squat and serious like a bulldog.

  Kim spoke before Miss May had even rolled her window all the way down. “Names, licenses, name of the resident you’re here to see.”

  Miss May looked over at me. I shrugged. Miss May turned back to Kim Johnson. “Oh. I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met. My name is Miss May. I’m here with my friends, Chelsea and Teeny. We’ve got a few buddies who live at the villages. We’re just popping in on them. So if you want to give us some visitor passes—”

  “No visitor passes if you’re not on my pre-approved list. Have any of our residents called in to let us know you’ll be visiting this evening?”

  Our friend Petunia hobbled toward the security booth using a gnarled wooden walking stick. “Relax, Johnson. They’re with me, Petunia. Like the flower.”

  “I don’t see any guests pre-registered on your manifest, Petunia.”

  “I’m old. I forgot. Geriatric hazard. Let them through, and I promise I’ll try to remember next time.”

  Kim Johnson narrowed her eyes and looked at us. “Give me your licenses so I can scan them, and I’ll let you pass.”

  Petunia set out a little tray of cookies on her coffee table and we settled onto her couch to chat. Before we got into the details of our investigation, Petunia complained that the action had dried up in her poker game at the Washington Villages community center. She blamed the recession, which didn’t quite make sense. And she told us that she had a plan to revitalize the games by offering incentives for participation like candy and cake.

  “These old folks will do anything for a nice piece of cake. That’s something I’ve learned, and I plan to use it to my advantage.”

  Have I mentioned that Petunia was a card shark at Washington Villages? She hosted the poker games, and she was almost always the big winner. She was shrewd, street-smart, and ruthless. I presumed she had mastered those skills while running her own flower shop in Pine Grove. As a small business owner, even of a cozy business like a bakeshop or a flower store, you had to learn to be tough and sharp. Petunia was also blunt. She was apt to change the subject faster than a head on collision.

  “So you’re here for an investigation. I know that because that’s the only reason you three ever visit me, whether I like it or not. I’d like to get to the meat of this conversation so I can start baking cakes to entrap the poker girls. So let’s get to it. Am I a suspect or do I have valuable information? I can never keep it straight, what you need from me. And it seems to vary from month to month.”

  Miss May chuckled. “I appreciate your directness.”

  “My father taught me that. He was so direct he only spoke one word at a time. Move. Out. Bathroom. The guy was a genius with efficient communication. I’m chattier than him and I have more time to waste so sometimes I babble. Also, I flap my gums to distract the competition at the poker tables. Most people can’t play and talk at the same time. I get them going about their grandkids or their dentures, they get distracted and make a mistake. That’s when I pounce. Back to the investigation. What’s the problem?”

  Miss May told Petunia all about Todd and the murder investigation surrounding his death. Petunia had lots of questions. Gossipy women always do. Then Miss May worked around to the reason for our visit.

  “Todd had an appointment at Washington Villages every Thursday at 5 PM. We want to know why he came here, with whom he met, and what he did while he was on the premises.”

  Petunia shook her head. “I keep a careful watch on who comes in and out of this place. But I don’t know anyone named Todd.”

  Teeny leaned forward. “Are you sure about that? Maybe you ignored him because he was so ugly. Big guy, stained T-shirt, gross in every possible way. Usually wears a black baseball cap? Er, wore, I guess. I wonder if he’ll be buried in one.”

  Petunia shrugged. “Can’t say it rings a bell. Most of the younger people who come here are well-dressed. They want their grandmas and grandpas to think they’re successful, even if they’re not, like my slacker grandkids. I don’t know why these young bloods care what we think. We’re stuck in here and they’re out in the free world.”

  “Washington Villages counts as the free world,” said Miss May. “There’s no curfew or anything like that. And you’ve all chosen to live here.”

  Petunia shrugged. “But there’s mealtimes. And after a certain time of night, the whole place basically shuts down. I guess it’s somewhere between free and prison. Except there’s no cost with prison and this place is a fortune.”

  “There’s a cost with prison,” I said. “A societal cost, it’s very problematic and—”

  “Aren’t you three always sending people to prison?” Petunia interrupted.

  “Well…I mean…murderers…” I stammered. “Anyway, are you sure the name ‘Todd’ doesn’t ring a bell? He was opening a payday loan place in Pine Grove. Maybe his visits here were somehow connected with that.”

  “No one like that came here,” said Petunia. “Sorry.”

  Suddenly there were three loud knocks at Petunia’s sliding glass door. We looked over. There was Kim Johnson, pointing to her watch with a stern look on her face. She cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted. “Visiting hours are over.”

  Petunia hobbled over to the door and opened it. “You’re rude.”

  “I’m just doing my job. Visiting hours are over.”

  Petunia turned back and looked at us. “Not free. Told you.”

  Miss May crossed over to Kim Johnson. “We’ll be on our way in just a minute. Thank you for letting us know, Kim. I’m wondering… We’re actually looking for a gentleman who used to visit the villages quite often. Todd. Big guy, kind of sloppy. Wore a black baseball cap.”

  Kim threw up her hands. “We get dozens of visitors a day. I don’t know.”

  “Can you think about it?” Miss May asked.

  “I can’t think about anything right now,” said Kim, getting flustered. “I’ve got a pot of spilled spaghetti in the cafeteria. I’ve got to deal with a ridiculous rent hike. I’ve got a TV that won’t stop playing game shows. And I’ve got a fender bender gumming up the works in th
ree of our handicap spots.”

  “The warden’s having a tough day,” said Petunia. “Thanks for visiting. Stay safe.”

  28

  Closely Guarded Secrets

  We exited Washington Villages in a hurry. All three of us were eager to discuss our conversation with Petunia. But none of us felt like being in the car. So I pulled over in the first residential neighborhood we passed, and we climbed out to walk and talk.

  The neighborhood was Evergreen Terrace, one of Pine Grove’s fancier and more upscale developments. The homes were what you might call McMansions, anathema to my design eye. They all had big columns flanking the front doors, nice, large yards and perfectly paved asphalt driveways. It was after dark but the neighborhood had streetlights every fifteen or twenty feet, so the area was a good spot for an evening walk.

  Teeny cracked her neck and stretched her arms when she got out of the car. “Finally we’re out of that car. I’m all stiff now.”

  “We drove fifteen seconds down the road.” I laughed. “You can’t be stiff yet.”

  “Maybe I was stiff before we got in the car and I blamed the car for it. Either way, I’m happy we can walk around and chat. I don’t like being a car-sitter. It’s not who I am.”

  “No, you’re much too feisty and restless for that.” Miss May looked around the neighborhood. “I’m not sure I’ve ever actually been to this development. I’ve heard so many times how nice it is. I like the streetlights.”

  “It’s fine,” said Teeny. “But Pine Grove is a rustic town. I like rustic neighborhoods that match the spirit of the community. These houses feel like they could be plopped down in any suburb in America. Pine Grove is too special for that.”

  I shrugged. “I guess I see it both ways. I mean, I agree, these McMansions could be better. But…it is nice to have some new houses for people to buy in town. Not everybody wants to live in a place that was built during the Revolutionary War. Low ceilings, ancient plumbing, stuff like that.”

  Miss May started walking through the neighborhood, claiming a spot right in the middle of the street. I looked both ways. There wasn’t a car or so much as a golf cart in sight. So I joined Miss May in the middle-of-the-road and so did Teeny.

  “So it seems Petunia has never met Todd,” said Miss May. “But she knows everyone who goes into and out of that place. And he had a standing appointment. So something doesn’t add up.”

  “Maybe Todd was going to a different Washington Villages, in Washington state or Washington DC,” said Teeny.

  Miss May turned to Teeny with a look that said, “you can’t possibly believe that.”

  Teeny threw up her hands. “What? Not everybody just sticks around their hometown all the time solving murders, like the three of us. I’m sure there are plenty of Washington Villages in this great nation. George Washington was a pretty important guy. He got lots of stuff named after him. Like that bridge in the city.”

  “The George Washington Bridge?” I said.

  Teeny pointed at me. “Exactly. And part of that is in New Jersey. I bet that Jersey has at least one Washington Villages. In fact, I bet every single state in America has something called Washington Villages. So that’s my theory. Wrong Washington Villages.”

  “Is that a Teeny theory or something you learned on TV?” I said.

  Teeny tapped her skull. “That’s all from up here in this beautiful mind. I’m like that guy from the movie, A Beautiful Mind, who did all the genius level math. Writing on the windows, solving important problems.”

  “That man lost his mind,” I said. “Or, at least, he was out of it.”

  Teeny shrugged. “So? It was still beautiful.”

  “I think Todd scheduled the visits every Thursday at 5 PM but never showed up for them,” I said.

  “Interesting theory,” said Miss May. “But why?”

  A nearby sprinkler system jumped to life and I shrieked with surprise, stumbling into Teeny. She, in turn, shrieked and stumbled into Miss May. Miss May just stood there and shook her head. “It’s a sprinkler system, girls. What are you two so spooked about?”

  “Maybe it’s the cumulative effect of the monthly murders in Pine Grove taking a toll on our psyches,” I said.

  “I was just surprised by the sound,” said Teeny. “I don’t want to get wet. Sprinkler water smells.”

  I smiled. “Me, too. I mostly just didn’t want to get wet.”

  Miss May stood and watched the sprinklers spray water on the lawn of one of the houses. “Hold on a second. What if Todd did go to Washington Villages, these Washington Villages, but used a different name? The guy was sketchy. He was opening a payday loan place. I doubt he was above something like that.”

  Teeny rubbed her chin. “A different name… Like Crank Gustorfsen?”

  Miss May looked shocked by Teeny’s strange name suggestion. I let out a huge laugh. “That is such a strange name, Teeny.”

  “Why? I knew a Crank Gustorfsen in grade school. Good kid. Got bullied a lot. I guess it was because of his weird name.”

  Miss May held out her hand to catch some of the water from the sprinkler. “I was thinking he might have used a more typical name like Roger or Carl.”

  “But it wouldn’t explain why Petunia didn’t recognize him from our description,” I said.

  “Maybe you’re not the only one in Pine Grove who has been wearing disguises,” said Teeny.

  I mirrored Miss May’s gesture and held out my own hand to catch some water. “Why would Todd wear a disguise and use a fake name when visiting Washington Villages?”

  Miss May shook the water off her hand. “I’m not sure. But if we wait a couple hours for Kim Johnson to get off work, I think I know how we might be able to find out.”

  At Miss May’s suggestion, the three of us piled back into my pickup truck and parked about a block away from the entrance to Washington Villages.

  Yes, it was a good old-fashioned stakeout.

  Sadly, we didn’t have time to pick up any stakeout snacks. But Teeny had gummy bears in her purse so we each had a few of those while we waited.

  Nothing happened for a long time. Visiting hours were over so no cars came or went at the villages. Then, finally, a beat up old Toyota Camry exited Washington Villages and drove toward us. Miss May, Teeny, and I ducked in our seats as the car rattled past us. But Miss May kept one eye on the road.

  “That was her,” she said. “Kim Johnson has left the villages.”

  We were greeted at the security gate by a beefy Asian-American man with a crew cut and thick glasses.

  “Sorry. No visitors until 8 AM tomorrow morning. New rules. I mean, old rules, but I guess we’re supposed to enforce them now.”

  The man had a voice so deep it sounded like it came from the bottom of the ocean. His face was expressionless and his muscular arms intimidated me.

  “I understand your position,” said Miss May. “If you let us in, it sets a bad precedent. And if you get caught you’ll probably be in trouble with your boss.”

  “That’s right,” the deep voice boomed. “And I don’t like getting in trouble.”

  “I get that,” Miss May said. “But we’re not here to hurt anyone. We’re here to keep the residents safe. Maybe you’ve heard about us… We’re the three ladies who solve all the murderers in town.”

  The guy’s eyes widened. “Hold up. You’re Miss May? And you two must be Teeny and Chelsea. I’ve read all about you in the Pine Grove Gazette. Can’t believe I didn’t recognize you from the paper! This is so cool. Or maybe it’s not cool. Was someone murdered? Is one of these old folks the killer? Sometimes they get real angry, man.”

  “No one here is a killer,” said Miss May. “But we think the victim of the crime may have been connected to this place somehow. I’m wondering… Do you have a logbook you can check?”

  “Logbook’s all digital now. Kim’s changing it over,” the guard said.

  “That’s fine. We can work with digital records,” Miss May continued. “We need to
know if there is anyone who visited every Thursday at around 5 PM.”

  “I really don’t think—”

  Teeny leaned forward. “Stop thinking and act, man. This is it. This is your moment to be a hero. You’ve accepted the status quo since you were a little boy. But you’ve always wanted to break free. Do something big. Something meaningful. That’s probably what you got into the security business in the first place. Because you’ve got a hero inside you. We all do. Now is your chance to change the course of history forever. Don’t you want that? Or do you want to sit in that little booth playing video games for the rest of your life?”

  “I… I want to be a hero.”

  “I knew you did,” said Teeny. “Now poke around in that little computer and tell us what we need to know.”

  The security guard took a deep breath. “This is my moment.”

  He turned to a little desk and typed some information to a computer. Miss May, Teeny, and I shared an excited look as we waited. I mouthed the words, “nice speech,” to Teeny. She stuck out her tongue and smiled, proud. Then the security guard turned back to us. He leaned out his little window, looked both ways, and spoke in a whisper. “Alright. Looks like Miss Ethel had a visitor every Thursday afternoon at five. But his name wasn’t Todd. It was Johnny Smith, her nephew.”

  “You may have just saved a life,” said Teeny. “Now there’s one more thing we need you to do.”

  “Whatever it is, I’m your man.”

  “Open the security gate and let us through.”

  29

  Good Ethel Hunting

  We had no idea which unit belonged to Ethel, so we hustled straight back to Petunia’s place, looking for help. It was almost 10 PM by that point but we expected to find Petunia awake. She was a famous night owl and often bragged about the nocturnal ways of her youth.

  So it surprised us to find Petunia’s apartment quiet, dark, and locked down. We went around the back to try to get a look in the living room but the blinds were closed. It appeared Petunia might have been gone for the night.