Peggy Dulle - Liza Wilcox 02 - Apple Pots and Funeral Plots (27 page)

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Authors: Peggy Dulle

Tags: #Mystery: Cozy - Romance - Kindergarten Teacher - Sheriff - California

BOOK: Peggy Dulle - Liza Wilcox 02 - Apple Pots and Funeral Plots
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“Come on, Liza.
Let’s go get something to eat and some well earned rest.
It’s been a long few hours.”

“I’m not really hungry.”
I petted
Shelby
a few more times and kissed her on the top of her head.
“I’ll see you in the morning.”

When we got outside, I noticed that only Tom’s patrol car
sat
in front.
“How did you get here?”

“I ran.”

“Why didn’t you drive Kate’s car?”

“Bill was so glad to see her that he lifted her grounding, so I gave it back to her.
I figured since I was here we could just take the patrol car if we needed to go anywhere.”

“That must have made her happy.”

“Oh, yes.”

Tom and I got into his patrol car and drove back to the inn.
The man I had tied to the bed was gone.
I went to the cabinet and checked my medicine.
It was still in the childproof bottle in the bag.

I held it up to Tom.

Shelby
did not get into my meds.”

“Then what did she get in to?”
Tom asked as he sat down on the bed.

“I don’t know.”
I checked the bathroom and every drawer and cabinet.
There wasn’t any medication anywhere.
The only explanation was that someone had given something to her.
But why?
And how?
She didn’t trust anyone, and taking food from a stranger is something she would never do.
It had to be someone she was comfortable with.
That was a limited number of people in Clainsworth.

I walked out of the bathroom and back over to the bed.
Tom had lain down, fully dressed, and was sound asleep.
He looked cute lying there.
My watch said it was only
seven o’clock
.
I leaned over and whispered into his ear, “I thought you were hungry?”

He didn’t even open his eyes.
“I’ll eat extra tomorrow.
I’m exhausted.
I don’t think mine exploring is for me.”

“Well, you might want to get out of those clothes, love.
You don’t have many changes of clothes and this is going to get wrinkled if you keep sleeping in it.”

He opened one eye and smiled.
“Want to take them off?”

I shook my head, “You were right about it being a long day and I’m still worried about
Shelby
.
My mind wouldn’t be in it.”

“I have enough trouble keeping your mind focused without the added distraction of a sick dog.”
He got up and kissed me on top of my head.
“I’ll hang these up.
Maybe tomorrow I’ll buy another pair of pants and a few shirts.
I’m kind of tired of wearing the same outfit.”

“Besides,” I said, wrinkling my nose.
“After romping around the mine, it doesn’t smell too good either.”

“Thanks.”

I put on my nightgown and climbed into bed.
It was early but I was exhausted, too.
A few minutes later, Tom joined me.
He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close.
Then he whispered into my ear, “
Shelby
is going to be okay.”

I turned and buried my head into his chest.
“I hope so.”

Chapter 26

 

In the morning, I shot up in bed and yelled.
“Let’s go get
Shelby
.”

Tom sat up slowly, rubbed his eyes, and looked at the clock next to the bed.
“It’s only seven-thirty.
I don’t think the doctor’s office is open this early, Liza.”

“Well, first we need to take showers and get you some new clothes.
That’s going to take a while.
By then the doctor’s office will be open.”

“Okay.”
He lay back down and buried his head in his pillow.
“You shower first.”

“Okay.”

I got into the shower and took the quickest one I had ever taken.
After I dressed, I went out to tell Tom to get in.
He was sound asleep.
The clock on the table said
eight o’clock
.
I knew the stores on the
Main Street
opened early this week because of the festival.
Maybe I’d go get Tom some clothes and let him sleep for a while longer.
I went back into the bathroom and checked the size on his pants and shirt — thirty-four and large.
Just thinking about his broad shoulders and stocky build made me want to climb in bed with him.
But I didn’t.

I tiptoed out of the room and walked toward
Main Street
.
I wasn’t about to take Tom’s car again and wake up the entire town.

I found a clothing store open only a few blocks away and bought two pairs of jeans, one black and the other blue.
Then I got him four different polo shirts, two for each pair of pants.
That should do it.
I took the clothes to the counter.

The clerk smiled.
“Buying clothes for your boyfriend?”

I couldn’t believe how quickly news traveled in this town.
“Yes.
He came up here without enough changes of clothes.”

She pointed to a table in the middle of the store.
“What about underwear?”

“Oh.”
My face turned a light shade of pink.
“I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Does he wear boxers or briefs?”

The color in my face darkened, and I said, “Boxers.”

The clerk smiled and grabbed a couple of bags of underwear, t-shirts and a package of socks.
She set them down on the counter with the rest of the clothes.

“Thanks,” I said.
“I wouldn’t have thought of those.”

“That’s my job.”
The clerk rang up my items and put them into a large bag.

I thanked the clerk and walked back to the inn.
When I opened the door, Tom wasn’t in bed anymore.
I could hear the water in the shower running.
Great, he’d get dressed and then we’d go and get
Shelby
.

I knocked on the bathroom door. “Tom?”

“Yes.”

I opened the door and stuck my head in.
“I bought you some clothes.”

“Thanks,” he called from the shower and then stuck his head out of the curtain, “And thanks for letting me sleep.”

“You’re welcome.”
I put the bag on the counter and closed the door.

A few minutes later Tom came out of the bathroom dressed in the black jeans and red polo shirt.
He looked good.
“Nice choice on the clothes.”

“Thank you.”
I walked toward the door.
“Can we go and get my dog now?”

“Of course.
But first I have to tell you something.”

I turned back to him.
“What?”

“When I woke up, I wasn’t exactly sure where I was and I ran into the table by the door.”

“Are you okay?”
I walked to him.

“Yeah, but when I hit the table, one of the white bags fell off.”

I ran over to the table and shrieked, “the one with my expensive apple pot in it?”

“Yeah,” he whispered and walked to me.
“Sorry.
I picked it up and put it back on the table.
I didn’t hear anything rattling inside, so hopefully it’s not broken.”

I opened the bag and took out the pot.
Slowly I unwrapped the tissue paper and turned the pot over.
It didn’t seem to have any cracks.
“It looks okay.”

“I’m glad.”
Tom came over and took the pot from my hand. “It sure is prettier than that other ones you have.”

“Yes.
But it’s a second.”

“A second what?”

I pointed to the crease at the bottom of the pot.
“It has a flaw so you can’t put it in the oven.
It would break.”

“So you can’t make apple cobbler in it?”

“No.
It’s just for decoration.”
I took the pot out of his hands before any more accidents happened.
“I’ll wrap it up again and put it away in the clothes cabinet.”

Tom smiled.
“Good choice.”

I smoothed out the paper on the table, then lifted my hands.
They were covered in a white powder.
I brought one hand to my nose but before I could sniff it, Tom moved it from my face.

“What?”

“Don’t sniff things when you don’t know what they are.”

I held up my hands.
“I see cops sniffing and tasting white powder all the time.”

“That’s only on television.
We don’t really do that.”

“Why not?”

“Let’s see.
If it’s a drug, then we’d all get high.
People that are high shouldn’t carry as much firepower as we do.”

“That’s true.”

“And besides, the bad guys watch television too and some of them started lacing the drugs with poison.”

“That would be bad.”

“Yes.”
He picked up the apple pot again and turned it over in his hands.
“Where did the white powder come from?”

I shrugged.

He rubbed his finger on the crease at the bottom, then reached in his pocket and pulled out a knife.

“Wait!”
I yelped.
“You’re not going to break my pot, are you?”

“If I do, I’ll buy you another.”

“Okay, but I really like that pot.”
I pointed to the crease.
“Maybe you can just slip your knife in and cut where the crease is.
Then I can glue it back together again.”

“I’ll try.”
Tom slipped his knife into the crease and cut through the pot.
Then he took off the round piece from the bottom.
He turned the pot over and I got a look at the bottom.

“It’s hollow?”

“Yes.”
He scraped his knife inside the pot and more white powder fell out.

“Could this be the drug that’s being smuggled and how it’s getting into the country?”

“That’s a very good possibility.”

I went over to the sink and got one of my other pots.
I put it in an old plastic bag and slammed it on the ground.

Tom jumped back.
“What are you doing?”

“I want to see if all of the pots are hollow.”

He shook his head, “Next time give a guy some warning, won’t you?”

I opened the bag and took out a piece of the broken pot.
It was solid.
These pots were not designed to carry drugs, just apple cobbler.

I sat back down at the table and picked up my fancy pot.
“It’s all about greed, isn’t it?”

Tom stepped closer.
“With drugs, it usually is.”

“No, I’m not talking about the drugs.”

“Then, what?”

I held the pot toward him.
“Bill told me that they get their first shipment of pots in December and then every other week until the end of June.”

Tom shrugged and sat down in the chair across from me.
“Okay.”

“That’s seven months, fourteen shipments.”
Tom nodded his head and I continued, “The lady that sold me this pot told me that she got between ten and fourteen pots.”

Tom raised his eyebrows.
“Okay, what’s that got to do with the drugs?”

“What’s the first thing you would do if you got a shipment of drugs?”

“Set them on fire?”

“No, think like a drug dealer.”

He tilted his head.
“Okay, I’d check the drugs and make sure they were pure.”

“Right,” I held the bottom of the pot toward him.
“So you would slice off the bottom of one pot in each shipment and check the drugs.”

Tom took the pot from my hand.
“Like this one.”

I nodded.
“And then if you were smart,” I pointed to the pot.
“What would you do with that pot after you’ve finished testing the drugs?”

“Glue it back together and put it with the rest of the pots.”

“Nope.”
I shook my head.
“You should destroy it.”

“Why?”

“Because the seals already been broken.”

“So, can’t I just re-seal it?”

“I use a lot of different types of glues in my class, from glue sticks to Elmer’s to a hot glue gun.
Every time something breaks and you glue it, it never looks right again.
No matter how careful you are you can always tell that it was broken and fixed.

“Okay, so the smart thing to do is to smash this pot into a million tiny little pieces.”

“Of course,” I got up, searched through my cosmetic bag and came up with the little piece of pot.
I handed it to Tom.

“What’s this?”

“It’s a little piece of pot that I found in the mine under a pile of a million tiny little pieces.”

“So the mayor does destroy the pots he opens for testing.”

“Not all of them.
The ones that he can open and then reseal, he sells to the lady I bought the pot from.”

“Making every dime he can.”

I nodded.
“Greed.”

“And that’s going to cost him,” he held up the pot, “because this is going to get me a warrant.”
He smiled broadly.
“I’m going to make some phone calls.”
Tom called his friend at the FBI who called his friend at the DEA.
They made plans to bust the drug operation on Saturday after the final eating contest.

I tapped Tom on the shoulder.
“My dog?”

He nodded and then into the phone he said, “I’ve got to go, John.
Call me again this evening and let me know what’s going on.”

Tom hung up.
“Sorry, honey.
Let’s go get
Shelby
.”

We got into Tom’s car and drove to Doc Gordon’s office.
When I opened the front door,
Shelby
barked and ran toward me.
She leapt onto my legs and I petted her.
“Howdy, girl.
How are you feeling?”

She raised her head and barked.

The nurse came over.
“She’s doing fine.
She woke up a few hours ago and has been running around here ever since.”

“Thanks so much for taking such good care of her.
How much do I owe you?”

Tom stepped forward.
“I’ll take care of it.”

“No, she’s my dog.”

“You bought me several new outfits today.
I’ll pay for the dog.”

“I think the vet bill is going to be a little more than a few sets of clothes.”

“That’s okay.”
He raised his brows and smiled.
“I like it when you owe me.”

I rolled my eyes and let him pay.

As we
stood at the desk and Tom paid
the bill, I said to the nurse.
“I checked the meds that Doc Gordon gave me,
Shelby
didn’t get into them.”

“Well, she certainly got into something,” the nurse said.

“But what?”

“I don’t know.”
She shrugged.
“Do you want me to run some kind of analysis and figure out what she ate?”

“No, that’s okay.”
It didn’t seem worth the money to find out what she got into, especially since Tom was paying.
She’s fine now and that’s the important thing.

We took
Shelby
back to the inn.
The rest of the day we kept a low profile.
Tom was afraid that the locals involved in the drug operation, knowing he was a cop from another city, might alter their plans for distribution of the drugs.
He spent most of it on the phone and I was bored.

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