Bodies and Blueberries Page 14

  Since the kittens had slept most of the day away they were tearing through the apartment with excess feline energy to burn. Ghost jumped onto the plant tower in the front window. The plant on the bottom shelf tipped on its side. He jumped onto the second and third shelves where there were no plants. He reached the top shelf and sent the plant flying into the front window.

  “Bad kittens,” Tabby scolded, getting up to rescue her plants.

  Ghost was sitting on the top shelf looking innocently down at her. She tapped him on the butt and put him down on the floor. He jumped right back up to the top again. Before she could react, he curled up in a ball on the top shelf and closed his eyes.

  “I guess this is going to be a cat tower instead of a plant tower from now on,” Tabby grumbled as she moved the plants on the other shelves to the kitchen table.

  She cleaned up the spilled dirt. Ghost slept through the whole thing, happily perched on the top of the plant stand. Marmalade followed Tabby wherever she went; she meowed loudly at her until she leaned down and picked up the orange kitten. Marmalade’s purring sounded like a motorboat through a megaphone.

  “You are such a love bug,” Tabby crooned, hugging the tiny kitten. “You and your brother are nothing alike. But I love you both dearly.”

  Tabby grabbed another wine cooler, turned the lights off again, and sat in the recliner looking out the front window. Marmalade sprung up into her lap and began meticulously cleaning herself. It was ten-thirty, but Tabby wasn’t tired. She couldn’t get her mind off Mr. Wells; she was worried sick about him. At his age, she didn’t know how long he would last in captivity. She hoped his tenacity would see him through until he was found.

  “I think I need some fresh air,” Tabby decided, setting the cat down on the floor.

  She grabbed a blanket, set the alarm, and set out for the town green. When she was younger, she and her mom would lay on the green at night and watch the stars. Tabby had tried to get Finn to lay there with her, but after five minutes he was done with the idea and called it stupid. She hadn’t been back to the green to look at the stars since that miserable night with Finn two summers ago. It was time to return and look at the stars once again.

  It was only a three-minute walk from her place and right in the center of town. She hadn’t seen Fink since their last run in when she was changing the locks on her building. What were the chances she would run into him this time of night?

  Tabby spread out the blanket next to the gazebo. She was on the far side, in the dark, away from the street lights of Main Street. She lay there, in the quiet of the night, trying to find the stars her mom used to point out to her when she was little. Just as she was beginning to relax, she heard footsteps on the wooden floor of the gazebo. Someone was talking on a cell phone, and that someone was Larry Fink. Not wanting to be discovered, she lay perfectly still, hardly daring to breathe.

  “I know what I said, but I changed my mind,” Fink insisted.

  Tabby could hear someone yelling on the other end of the phone but she couldn’t make out what the person was saying.

  “I’m done with this town. It’s getting too risky to stay here. The sheriff has questioned me twice. The locals won’t pay the fake tax bills I have been handing out. It’s time to move on. This Friday, the demolition will wipe out all traces of evidence. The Swansons are dead and so is Pierce. Wells is still alive, but soon he will be dead like the others. There will be no one left to know what we did or how we did it. No, I don’t want to know exactly where he is so I can go watch. Sometimes you scare me.”

  The voice on the other end of the phone was still screaming and obviously furious with Fink.

  “We scammed over a million dollars from this town. That should hold us over until we can come up with something new somewhere else. The sale of the drive-in property netted us almost a million dollars in cash alone.”

  Tabby strained to listen to the other voice on the phone and thought it sounded like a woman’s voice. It could be the dark-haired woman Fink was going to eat supper with that night at the café.

  “Friday morning, you can give Wells his last dose of drugs. He will sleep right through everything going on around him and never wake up again. I will be in the office all morning getting things together to leave. I’ll be gone by noon. I know, I know, don’t forget the pictures. Yeah, are you sure the money is safe? Seriously? The old man is sleeping right on top of it and doesn’t have a clue it’s even there?”

  A cricket jumped on Tabby and scared the heck out of her. She fought back a scream and hoped Fink didn’t hear her moving. He continued on with his conversation and she realized she was safe.

  “I think I want to retire with my fifty percent. One of these times I’m not going to be so lucky. I’m the front man. You are always in the background, sitting behind your safe little desk, and no one even realizes you are in on the scam. What do you mean I’m an idiot? No. I’m the smart one. I know when to get out and stay out. After this weekend, you are on your own. I have to go. Someone is coming up the sidewalk. Talk to you tomorrow.”

  Fink walked away from the gazebo towards home. Tabby let out a huge breath when she knew he was out of hearing distance. She sat up and peeked over the edge of the gazebo to make sure Fink was out of sight. When she was sure that he was gone, she stood up, shook out her blanket, and ran for home. She ran up the back stairs and to the front window of her apartment.

  The lights in Fink’s apartment were on; he was home again. Tabby toyed with the idea of calling the sheriff, but it was already after midnight. Fink wasn’t going anywhere tonight. He himself stated that he didn’t know where Mr. Wells was and even if he did he wouldn’t say because the money was hidden with him and would be confiscated. Friday was his day to escape. He had no idea his conversation had been overheard at the gazebo, so he had no reason to run. Tabby would get up early and head for the sheriff’s office. He could pick up Fink first thing in the morning.

  Tabby fell into bed. The kittens crawled up to their usual spot on the extra pillow next to her head. She set her alarm for five o’clock. The three roommates were asleep in under five minutes.

  She was up before the alarm went off. Tabby didn’t want Fink to see the sheriff come to her house. Drinking three cups of coffee, she waited until six o’clock when the sheriff would arrive at the station. Seeing no movement in Fink’s apartment or office, she walked over to the sheriff’s office undetected.

  The sheriff was just pouring himself his first cup of coffee as Tabby related every word she had heard the previous night. Sheriff Puckett was glad to hear Richard Wells was still alive, but he was mad at Tabby for wandering around by herself in the middle of the night.

  With all this new information, it was time to bring Larry Fink in and find out just what was going on. Deputy Clyde Small showed up at six-thirty and the two men left for Larry Fink’s apartment. Tabby followed behind, but veered off to her apartment so she could watch from her front window.

  She called Greg to catch him up on what was going on. He was understandably angry when he found out that Tabby had ventured outside late at night alone. The sheriff came out of Fink’s place and was waving to Tabby to join him.

  “I have to run. Sheriff Puckett is flagging me down from across the street. I’ll call you later,” Tabby promised, heading for the door.

  She reached the sidewalk and the sheriff put his hand up to stop her.

  “You don’t want to go in there; Fink is dead. It looks like he got ambushed by someone he knew and let in willingly. He was beaten the same way Pierce was; baseball bat to the head.”

  “It had to be the person on the other end of the phone. Maybe Fink didn’t kill anyone. Maybe the other person did all the killing and we were blaming him,” Tabby stated. “Fink wanted out and she didn’t like it, so she took care of him, too. Now she has all the money to herself, and only she knows where the money and Mr. Wells are being hidden.”

  “This leads us back to where we were before; no closer to
finding Richard,” the sheriff mumbled. “You should have called me last night.”

  “I know I should have, but we have until Friday. Don’t give up hope; I am certain he hasn’t given up on us,” Tabby pleaded, trying to sound upbeat.

  Sheriff Puckett headed back to the murder scene and Tabby left, deciding she needed a walk to clear her head.

  She found herself automatically heading to the flower shop to sit next to her frog fountain. Even though it was in Greg’s shop, she still secretly considered it her fountain. Tabby stopped at The Tilted Coffee Cup, picking up two coffees and two blueberry muffins. She had to answer questions about her and Greg’s relationship to some of the locals who had been listening to Gladys Twittle’s gossip. Tabby set the record straight. She and Greg were dating, but there had been no secret marriage. A smile crossed her lips as she left the coffee shop. She and Greg’s prank had worked; Gladys blabbed everything she had overheard that night at the restaurant.

  Tabby walked two doors up to the flower shop. As she was walking, the coroner’s wagon made its way up Main Street one more time. Nothing had happened in this quiet town for over forty years. Now in less than a month’s time, three murders, with the possibility of four, had caused people to start locking doors that had never been locked before.

  Since Greg had seen the coroner’s wagon drive by, he ran out of the front door of his shop and almost right into Tabby who was arriving with the coffees.

  “What happened?” Greg demanded to know.

  “Fink’s dead. Someone bashed his head in with a baseball bat, just like Pierce’s,” answered Tabby, handing Greg his coffee. “He let the person in the door and was hit from behind. Fink had to know and trust whoever it was.”

  “Do you think it was the person he was talking to on the phone?”

  “It had to be. Personally, I think it was that dark-haired woman he ran away with that night at the café.”

  “It’s too bad we never got to see her face,” Greg sighed.

  “I know. I’m going to sit by the fountain and have my coffee and muffin. It relaxes me and helps me to think. I brought a muffin for you, too.”

  “Thanks; I’ll eat it on my break. I have two weddings going out this morning. Sorry, but I don’t have time to sit with you right now.”

  “That’s fine. I just need some quiet time near the fountain,” Tabby declared.

  Both tables were occupied, so Tabby chose the bench closest to the fountain. She set her coffee on the floor and stared at the frogs playing in the water. The sound of the water splashing over the steps of the fountain and into the lily pond below calmed Tabby. She had to clear her head. There had to be something she was missing; something that wasn’t registering clearly in her thoughts.

  Tabby watched as the flowers for the first wedding were hustled out the front door and thought to herself that her arrangements were so much better. No offense to Margaret, but her flowers were lacking that romantic feeling that should be experienced on that very special day. Deep in her heart she knew that when her own shop opened, Greg would lose some of his business to her arrangements. She felt bad about it, but business was business.

  She ran over the current events in her mind but no new resolutions came to her. Tabby decided to go home and spend the rest of the day cooking batches of her gram’s jelly. The windows would be left open to tease the town with the wonderful aromas of the jellies and jams that would be waiting for them when she opened her shop.

  Tabby only had a short time to get ready for her grand opening. The next day would be spent cleaning the shop from top to bottom. Mr. Pierce had painted the walls and installed all new fixtures. She decided to go ahead and order a few more stand-alone fixtures that she needed. A new table with four chairs had been delivered for comfortable seating during pre-wedding appointments. Her wedding stock had been delivered and was waiting to be set up on the shelves around the meeting table for easy viewing.

  Over the last week, in between everything that had been going on, she managed to make over eight hundred jars of jelly. Each batch yielded nine to ten dozen jars of the precious gold her Gram used to supply to the locals. Now Tabby would offer the product to the world, or at least to anyone who visited her shop.

  “Are you okay?” asked Greg. “You look like you’re in La-La land.”

  “Just thinking about all the work I have to get done before the shop opens,” Tabby answered. “And poor Mr. Wells.”

  “We’ll find him, don’t worry,” Greg reassured, as he squeezed her shoulder. “And I’ll help you at night with whatever you need to finish for your shop opening.”

  “I sure hope so. Have you ever had this sick feeling that you know something, but you just can’t put our finger on it?”

  “Sometimes. I have the second wedding party coming in shortly. Do you want to have supper at the diner tonight? Say, six-thirty?”

  “Yes, sounds good. Tomorrow night supper is at my apartment. Jenny and Alex are coming over, too. We need to start reading the compositions the kids submitted for the Summer Kick-Off Weekend. You in?”

  “I’m in. I can’t get there until six-thirty though.”

  “Supper will be at seven. I’m going to home to make jelly. I’ll meet you at the diner later.”

  Greg bent over and kissed her. The tingle was still there just like the first time he kissed her. This time it happened in a public place where she knew people were watching.

  Mrs. Ryan happened to be walking by the flower shop window when Greg kissed her. As she ran off Tabby knew that she was making a beeline straight for Gladys Twittle to report what she had just seen. It never ceased to amaze Tabby how both the women could be in the right place at the right time. What were the odds she would be walking by at the exact moment Greg kissed her? Tabby strolled past The Penny Poor Antique Shop on her way home. Sure enough, Mrs. Ryan was standing at the counter telling Gladys all the juicy details of the public display of affection. Tabby waved at them as she passed the front window. Both women turned their backs to her and continued gossiping.

  I imagine that Gladys is probably still pretty steamed about the prank we played on her.

  Ghost and Marmalade met Tabby at the door. They followed her around the apartment until she acknowledged them and picked each one up and gave them some loving. She was giving Ghost a rub behind the ears; he had become much friendlier now since he had decided that Tabby could be trusted.

  “You know, Ghost. I haven’t been back to the drive-in to look around since the day we found you two,” Tabby whispered to the cat. “I think I will go back there tomorrow morning and poke around.”

  The kitten tilted his head. It was like he was trying to understand what she was saying to him. Giving up, he laid down in her arms and closed his eyes.

  “Oh, no you don’t. I have jelly to make,” she said, setting the cat on the top step of the plant stand in the front window.

  Looking out the front window Tabby could see the yellow police tape that had been placed across the front door of the real estate office. For just a brief moment, she felt bad for Larry Fink. Yes, he was a criminal that had bilked many of the locals out of their hard-earned money, but he had been killed by someone he knew and trusted. It had to be the dark-haired woman they saw at the café. How ironic that Fink had protected her identity that night, and she killed him shortly thereafter.

  The next five hours were spent cooking jelly. The open windows allowed the wonderful smells to waft down Main Street. Several people yelled up to her asking when the store was going to open. She was happy with the way things were progressing and the obvious excitement that was building for her grand opening. Another two-hundred jars of jelly done, she called it quits for the night.

  Tabby and Greg had a pleasant supper at the diner. There was no Gladys Twittle sitting in the next booth to listen in on their conversation. When the Twittles did arrive for dinner, “The Mouth” asked to be seated as far away as possible from the young couple. Greg was laughing as Bea sat them at the
opposite side of the diner.

  They discussed the grand opening of Tabby’s shop and made plans for the upcoming Summer Kick-Off Weekend. Greg told Tabby he had found the perfect small house to rent on Emblem Avenue just off West Main Street. He planned to move in July first providing they located Mr. Wells. Since he was the owner and the current tenants were moving out by the end of May, Greg hoped that the house was his for the taking. As far as he knew, he was the only one who had inquired about it so far.

  Tabby got quiet when Greg mentioned Mr. Wells.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll find him,” Greg comforted, as he noticed the sudden change in Tabby’s demeanor.

  “I am so frustrated! Something in the back of my mind is saying I have the answers, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t figure it out,” she said, tearing up. “I know Mr. Wells is depending on us to find him. I have been so busy with the opening of the shop that the time has just passed by since he first disappeared. I should have been doing more to find him.”

  “The sheriff has been working to find him, too, and has come up with nothing. Tomorrow night, the four of us will go over the conversation you heard and see if together we can come up with the answer.”

  Greg walked Tabby to her apartment then wrapped his arms around her and kissed her.

  “Don’t ever go wandering around in the middle of the night without me by your side,” he said. “I have fallen in love with you, Tabitha Moon, and I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  Tabby remained silent.

  “I know you need time; so did my mom. I can wait,” Greg promised, kissing her again. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

  Tabby watched him walk away into the night. Maybe after her shop was up and running and Mr. Wells had been found she could concentrate on her and Greg’s relationship. Right now, her life was too hectic.