Barbara Graham - Quilted 04 - Murder by Vegetable (26 page)

“I was thinking along the same lines.” Tony parked right in front of the bar's front door, mostly because it was the flattest part of the parking lot. He looked at Wade. “You'd better suck in all the oxygen you can. Last time I went inside there wasn't any, just old tired air.” He climbed out of the Blazer and headed inside, Wade followed close on his heels.

“Sheriff?” The owner/bartender, Fast Osborne, peered through the haze. “Is there a problem?”

Tony ignored the question. He'd have taken a seat on one of the stools, but guessed the back of his khaki pants would bear the stains forever. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Wade wipe one with a corner of his handkerchief. He folded it carefully and put it in his jacket pocket, but not before Tony saw the brown sludge folded into the middle of it.

“Have you seen the Farquhar boys lately?” Tony thought he'd skip the pleasantries.

Osborne just stared at him. “Huh?”

“I know they're customers of yours. Jocko and Geordie and Shawn Farquhar.” Tony's skin started itching. He was no stranger to walking into unclean buildings, crime scenes, and accidents, but this room felt like a biology experiment in action.

The bartender still didn't respond, but from an even darker corner, near the back, a man's voice, raspy from years of smoke and whiskey, said, “Two of 'em was in here this morning.”

“Okay, that's a start. Which two?”

“Can't tell them apart.” Behind the bar, Osborne found his voice at last. “They're all dumb, dishonest, and drunk most of the time.”

“So, some of your favorite customers.” Tony guessed the “boys” spent all the money they stole right here.

“They do keep me in business.” Osborne's breath came out in a great gust. “Is that a crime?”

Tony backed away from the fumes emanating from the bartender. He'd evidently been sampling the wares himself. “It is a crime if you over-serve them and send them out on the road.” Tony wouldn't want the bartender behind the wheel either and hoped he still lived on the premises.

“They's grownups, ain't they? I don't serve no kids in here.” The little man puffed up like an angry bird. “I run a class eee-stablishment.”

“Yeah,” Wade muttered near Tony's ear. “If A is good, this is definitely E rated.”

Tony nodded. “Tell me about the two Farquhar boys who were in here this morning then. Were they talking big, flashing money, anything unusual for them?”

With the palm of his hand, the bartender smashed a black bug staggering along the bar, then wiped the remains on the side of his dirty jeans. “You know, seems like they was a bit quieter than usual. Maybe 'cause there was only two of them, but they was kinda huddled together at that table.” He nodded to a corner table in almost total darkness.

“Who took them their drinks?” Wade tipped his notebook to let the paltry light shine on it so he could make his notes.

“I did. They each had a couple of beers and left.” Osborne spat on the floor behind the bar.

“Anyone talk to them?” said Tony.

“Naw, but I wouldn't say that's any different than usual. Those boys ain't real friendly ‘n’ most times they's generally left alone.”

Feeling there was nothing to learn and anxious to be outside, Tony beat Wade to the door. As soon as they were in the fresh air, he took huge gulps of the stuff, trying to purge his lungs of stale Spa air. “Can you imagine spending more than ten minutes in there?”

Wade shook his head and wheezed. “I feel like I need a shower and a fresh uniform.”

As they prepared to pull back onto the road, Jessica's boyfriend, Vic, drove past them in his work van. A giant plastic bug lay, legs up, on the roof. The logo on the door said “Vic's Victims, Exterminator.” Tony glanced at Wade. “Mom Proffitt called earlier and said she remembered Vic talking about coming into big dollars—like he was marrying an heiress. What do you think?”

“I think it might be interesting to hear what he says when Jessica isn't around. She strikes me as a no-nonsense woman with a firm grip on the reins.”

“My thought exactly.” Tony followed the van until it stopped in front of a house and parked. Calling out and waving to Vic, Wade got out first.

The three men gathered near the oversized, fake deceased insect. After a brief meet and greet, Tony said, “Did you know about the houses Ragsdale owned?”

“Sure.” Vic's expression hinted of pride. “He had me spray all of them each spring and fall. Said the riff-raff couldn't be trusted to watch for termites or creepies.”

Wade made a note. “How many houses?”

“Six or seven.” Vic scratched his head. “I have the addresses in my files. Guess there's no reason not to show them to you.”

“So, you've been doing this for several years?” Tony leaned casually against the van thinking the number of houses was quite different from Jessica's version. “How's business?”

“There's always bugs.” Vic chuckled. “They're my job security.” His laughter faded. “I imagine you've heard I have been having a bit of difficulty paying my bills.”

Tony hadn't, but kept his ignorance to himself. “Did you ever consider Jessica would lose all her inheritance if they divorced?”

“But she's his widow.” Desperation rang in Vic's voice. “Don't she get it all?”

Tony was frustrated and busy, but he still made time to help at Chris's baseball practice. He was walking across the park from his house to the ball fields when he encountered a coach from a rival team. Andy Marks.

“My wife said I should talk to Doc Nash, and I did, and he said I should talk to you.” The man said as he approached Tony in the park. “I think it's silly.”

“What's that?” Tony's curiosity was certainly piqued. He shifted the baseball equipment bag on his shoulder. Andy carried a similar one.

“Well, it was something that happened at the Ramp Festival. I have allergies and ate something with nuts in it there and had to leave early.” Andy gazed off in the distance, a slight smile on his lips. “I would purely have enjoyed seeing Hairy Rags go down. Missed the whole rocket potato. My tongue started swelling, and my wife got me out of there and jabbed me with my emergency anti-allergy syringe.” He flexed his beefy arm and pointed to a small dark bruise. “I mean it. She jabbed that sucker in hard.”

Tony wasn't sure if he was supposed to laugh or arrest the woman. “But it did the trick for you?”

“Yeah, I still had to go to the doctor and all, but there wasn't a big rush and all's well. Anyway, the doctor said for me to tell you I'm allergic to nuts, and now I have.” Looking somewhat embarrassed, Andy turned to leave.

“Wait.” Tony set his bag down and pulled out his notebook. “Tell me everything you can remember from before your reaction—what did you see, eat, smell, taste?”

Andy stared for a moment. “You really want to know all this, do you?”

“Absolutely.”

“Well, the wife and me wandered around the crafts booths first. The food lines were really long when we got there, especially for the ramp pies.” Andy paused. “This is really what you want to know?”

Jotting down a note, Tony smiled and nodded. “You're doing great. Just keep talking.”

“Okay. Well, the wife bought a few cookies at the bake sale, but like I said, I couldn't eat any because of the nuts. Honestly, that woman's wonderful, she loves nuts and she takes the cookies to her office and eats them. She's really good at brushing her teeth and washing her face after she eats them, but it's not enough. When she eats stuff with nuts in it, I can't kiss my own wife because of the nut thing.”

“I'd say it's a pretty severe allergy then.” Tony didn't think he'd ever heard of someone having such extreme reactions to anything. “Have you always had it?”

“Yep. But, it does seem like it's been getting worse, like each time I have a reaction, the next time it's stronger. I didn't used to have to carry medication.” He patted his jacket pocket. “Before you start thinkin' my wife isn't good to me, you're wrong. She does the cookies thing only about once a year when the ladies of the church have their bake sale. One of those ladies makes a walnut, chocolate, caramel cookie to die for, so to speak.” Andy cracked a wide grin. “My wife indulges with my blessing.”

Tony made a note to chat with the church ladies. Even if it turned out it wasn't part of the case, he thought he should investigate just how good the cookies really were. “So after visiting the crafts and bake sale, were you feeling all right?”

“Just fine. My wife had the ladies seal the cookies up in the triple plastic bags she brought along. Everyone was very careful. Then she stashed it in her purse and zipped it up.” His pride about the way his wife worked to protect him was obvious. “So then we watched some of the entertainment. And by the way, if you should shoot them Elves, I'll give you an alibi. Name the day and time, and I'll say you were with me.” His head bobbed emphatically. “I'll swear it on the Bible.”

Tony nodded, afraid if he opened his mouth a laugh would escape.

“So, anyway we went over to the ramp stuff. I got a slice of ramp pie and the wife got a cup of the soup. Those relics—I can't believe that's what they want to be called—but they had the name printed on T-shirts. Anyhow, they were handing out napkins and plastic spoons and offering salt and pepper and hot sauce. I guess if you sprinkle enough fiery sauce on the ramps, you don't notice the taste so bad. I had two bites and my lips started to swell, and I could feel my throat closing. I handed the wife my pen, she stabbed me, and we left.” He made a snuffling sound. “Didn't get to see those vegetables fly.”

Tony studied the man's expression. He was clearly more disappointed about missing the vegetable weapons display than anything else. “Do you have any idea what happened?”

“Nope. I guess there were some nuts in the pie, but I can't say I saw any or tasted any.” He clearly considered the interview over and shifted away. “That it, Sheriff? I need to get to practice.”

“Me too.” Tony picked up the equipment bag at his feet. “Thanks for the information.” Glancing toward the ball fields, he saw Chris waving and hustled to practice.

Luckily, Tony was only an assistant coach to the assistant coach. His attendance was erratic because of his work, and although his body was there today, he couldn't get his mind off the story he'd just heard. Had someone poisoned everyone with nut allergies? Accident or not?

Theo took Jamie to his team's practice. Actually, she and the stroller filled with the twins accompanied Daisy as they walked behind Jamie. When they were almost at the ball field, Kenny Baines, whose daughter played on Jamie's team, signaled for Theo to join him and Blossom. His tiny little girl was not a great hitter, but she could catch the ball and had an accurate throw for a girl so young. The little girl smiled and patted Daisy before trotting next to Jamie, who had waved to everyone but kept walking.

Blossom and Kenny sat side by side on folding chairs under a shade tree with bright green spring leaves starting to unfurl. Theo noticed the couple was holding hands. As usual, Daisy carried her leash in her mouth and she abandoned Theo and trotted over to investigate the puppy by Blossom's feet. Miss Cotton was about the size of Daisy's head, but she was unfazed by the difference in their sizes and ambled to greet the huge golden.

Fighting with the double stroller as she pushed across the uneven ground, Theo followed more slowly. “It's a beautiful evening.”

Blossom and Kenny agreed. A moment later, without a word, Blossom extended her left hand so Theo could see a new ring on her finger.
The
ring finger. A diamond flanked by a pair of emeralds sparkled in the late afternoon sunlight.

“You're engaged?” Theo thought she might have shrieked a bit.

Kenny kissed Blossom's cheek. “Yes, we are.” His smile was tender and triumphant.

Theo was delighted. “Congratulations!” She gave each of them a hug and a cheek kiss. “How exciting! When did you decide?” What she really wanted to know, and wouldn't ask, was if they had already told Tony. Their competition to have the freshest news first was ongoing and semi-serious.

“This afternoon.” Blossom beamed. “Kenny and the girls asked me when he came by to pick me up to come here.”

“So just minutes ago?” At their smiling nods, Theo picked up Daisy's leash. “We'll leave you to make your plans. Should I keep it a secret?”

“No,” said Kenny. “Tell everyone you want to. We haven't set the date, but it might be as early as June.” He kissed Blossom's hand. “The choice is my fiancée's, but I hope it's soon.”

Theo wanted to know if they'd broken the news to DuWayne, but managed not to blurt out her question. Glowing with self-pride, she managed to wait until she was out of earshot from the couple before she pulled out her cell phone, and still fighting the stroller, hit speed dial to contact Nina. “Guess what I just saw!”

“Okay.” Tony stood in front of his small staff. “I know we've gone over part of this before, but let's do it again. I want to know everything you've learned about nuts and the festival. Sheila, you start.”

“Several of the cookies and candies sold at the dessert booth contained walnuts, pecans, almonds, or almond paste.” Sheila flipped through her notes. “The ladies swear they had a few people who questioned them about the ingredients. A few didn't buy, presumably because of allergies, but it could have been an excuse they gave to make it look like they were willing, not cheap.” Sheila paused and looked around. “No one thinks Ragsdale came within twenty feet of the bake sale booth, and since most of the women looked like they'd spit on his grave, I believe they'd remember.”

Wade stood. “I checked the ingredients in the ramp dishes as well as the foods offered by the vendors. No one used tree nuts in any dishes or walnut oil in their cooking. Not even in the salad dressing.” He turned to Tony. “And I didn't just take their word for it. I took samples of the dressings and sauces and had them tested.”

“Maybe someone bought a cookie from the ladies and crumbled it and dropped it on his food when he was distracted.” Mike feigned pointing to the side and dropped a paper wad on the floor.

“There's a good idea,” said Tony. “If we can somehow get a list of people who knew about his allergy, who were at the festival, maybe someone will remember selling a person a cookie. Or maybe I'll find a winning lottery ticket in the morning mail.”