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After dropping Mr. X off at his castle, Beverly headed over to the Apple Peel, a combination cider presser-brewery, gift shop, and cafe. She needed something to bring her down off her adrenaline high. Plus, the place had a small stage with live music like Agnes wanted to add to her wine shop. Beverly didn’t think it would hurt to do some scoping out the competition, and besides, Fern Gery had suggested they meet there.
They browsed through the gift side, mostly basket samplers of honey and jam and, of course, cider. Beverly bought some maple fudge for Adam since it was his favorite, and the two women found a table in the luncheonette area. Beverly wasn’t hungry at all, but she ordered some of their “world-famous” cider donuts and some coffee.
The entertainment turned out to be too loud and out-of-tune for their tastes, so they hurriedly finished the donuts and headed toward the Maple Kingdom Artisans Gallery. Beverly ignored the “kingdom” part since it brought to mind images of the SCA jousts she’d witnessed yesterday.
This place was much more to her liking. Watercolors, stoneware, wood and metal sculptures, fiber arts, glass. Fern seemed every bit at home as she did. How long had it been since Beverly had done anything friend-ish with a woman other than Agnes?
Fern picked up an iridescent, multi-colored glass bottle. “That would look nice on an end table.” She looked at the price tag and put it back. “Too rich for my blood.”
Beverly had seen that price tag, and it wasn’t as high as she’d expected. In fact, it was very reasonable. Work as a clerk at a florist’s shop wasn’t enough salary to buy yachts and Picassos, but surely this bottle was within reach? She toyed with the idea of buying it for her but didn’t know how she’d react. Mr. X warned her to be less impulsive, so perhaps she should take that to heart.
She asked, “Where do you live? Are there any less expensive home decor stores there?”
“A few miles west of Ironwood Junction. But I don’t need much. More things I have to dust.”
Beverly sighed. “Guess if I’m going to staying around here, I should look for more permanent housing than the resort.”
“You could rent a house for what a few nights at that place costs.”
“Can you suggest something?”
“I’m no real estate expert. I’m surprised Adam Dutton hasn’t given you some suggestions.”
“He’s terribly busy.”
“And terribly hot. Seriously, I always thought cops were, well. . .” She formed a figure like a beer barrel with her hands. “And bald.”
“Definitely neither. But I wasn’t kidding about the busy part.”
“Is it Wally’s murder?”
“Mostly.”
“Bruno says I should let it go. But I can’t help but wonder if I hadn’t broken up with him, he might still be alive.”
“The what-if game will drive you crazy.”
Fern picked up a stoneware pitcher and peered inside. “If Adam is that busy, he must be getting close to solving the case.”
“He’s following several leads.”
“My money’s on Braddon Hopper. He hated Wally. It was like he became obsessed with him. You should have seen the way he looked at Wally. You could see the wheels turning in his head about how he’d get rid of him.”
“Did Wally ever say anything to you about a hit-and-run accident?”
“I don’t recall everything we talked about. But nothing like that jumps out at me.” Fern looked at the price of the pitcher and shook her head before setting it back down.
“Did you ever meet Braddon’s girlfriend, Jane Campen?”
“I saw them together. Braddon made sure to steer her away from Wally and me.”
“To keep him from becoming interested in her?”
“Jane? She wasn’t Wally’s type. Too mousy. And a little overweight. And that voice—nasal, like a honking goose.”
Fern pointed to a bowl crafted from spalted maple. “This is the color of Adam Dutton’s eyes. That’s one of the first things I noticed about him.”
So had Beverly. Lovely, warm, mocha-brown. “Why, I think you’re right,” she said as if noticing for the first time. Beverly liked Fern, but this interest in Adam kicked the borders of those feelings around a bit.
She said, “Have you and Bruno set a date?” Meowrrr. She wished she could have retracted it as soon as she said it. She hated catty women.
“After one broken engagement, I’m in no hurry for that. Bruno’s nice. But I’m not sure he’s The One.”
“But no OCD?”
Fern laughed. “Thank god, no. The most ‘O-C’ he gets is ordering the same toppings on his pizza. Anchovies and olives. He’s Italian, after all.”
Beverly grimaced. “I guess that’s better than living with someone worrying about germs all the time.”
“Wally couldn’t help it. It’s the way he was. No main suspects yet? I have to admit I’m disappointed.”
Despite her own frustrations about the pace of the investigation, Beverly felt compelled to defend Adam. “I’m betting on Adam and Detective Jinks.”
“Aren’t you consulting for the police, too?”
“I worked another angle this morning.” Well, Beverly had set out her unofficial shingle, hadn’t she? Couldn’t back down now. “Someone broke into Agnes Framm’s wine shop, and I tracked down the thief who’d robbed a similar store recently. But it’s not the same guy.”
“How does that relate to Wally’s case?”
“It probably doesn’t.”
She focused Fern’s attention on a yin-and-yang brass and silver bracelet. “This one is more affordable.”
Fern tried it on. “Fits, too.” She held her arm up in the air. “And no sliding. That drives me fucking insane.” She said it with such force, it took Beverly by surprise. So Fern had a spicy side. Good to know.
That aspect was further deepened when a woman headed into the shop and stopped short when she saw Fern, who mumbled under her breath, “Just what we need.” The woman abruptly turned on her heel and headed outside.
Beverly gaped after her and laughed. “Was it something I said? Who was that woman?”
“Nyssa Atkinson. She’s married to Wally’s former neighbor.”
“Ah. Wally and her husband had a feud. Did she blame you?”
“Maybe, maybe not. But I don’t trust Nyssa. When Wally and I were dating, I thought Nyssa came on to him. Guess it’s not surprising since her husband’s a big swinger. Perhaps she is, too.”
“A swinger? Hadn’t heard that.”
“Wally was envious of the guy. But if Nyssa didn’t go along with all of that, I should feel sorry for her. At the time, I was pretty upset.”
“Did Wally succumb to Nyssa’s advances?”
“Oddly enough, he wasn’t interested. Or he picked up on some weird vibes from her. You know, takes one to know one. I’m not sure.”
“Would she have been upset he rebuffed her advances?”
“She may seem meek and mild, but she has an iron streak when she needs it.”
So did Fern, apparently. But then, so did Beverly.
As Fern was paying for her new purchase, Beverly’s cellphone rang, and she answered, despite not recognizing the number. “Yes?”
“Miss Laborde? This is Sharon Bogren. We met at the Salt Rock Lodge and Conference Center yesterday.”
“You’re the secretary there. The one who was interested in antiques.”
“Sorry to bother you, but I got some awful news. And I want you to tell Detective Dutton that I don’t believe it for a minute.”
“Don’t believe what, Sharon?”
“It’s Braddon Hopper, he’s at Dartmouth-Hitchcock Hospital. They’re saying it’s a suicide attempt. But I know it can’t be true. Please tell Detective Dutton I said so.”
Beverly listened to Sharon’s entreaty, then hung up and made her excuses to Fern that she had to leave. As she raced to the hospital, she wondered if she should call Adam but figured if Sharon knew, Adam knew.
A million thoughts flew through her head as she ran through various possibilities. Whatever the reason for him being in the hospital, Beverly’s gut feeling was it had something to do with Harlan’s case. And maybe, just maybe, this was the big break they’d hoped for.
