Death of a Bad Apple (17 page)

“You know nothing about my marriage or the reason I left,” Red said. “I don't cotton to liars. And you fit in that category perfectly, lady. The sooner everyone realizes it, the sooner you'll be out of here on your butt.”

“Oh, it'll take a lot more than a few fires and a couple of murders to get rid of me,” Paula said. “In fact, I'll bet you set those fires yourself and tried to make it look like Eden Corporation did it. Funny how only a storage building and an old barn were burned and not the nearby houses. Seems a safe way to gain sympathy while you place the blame on others. I'll bet you and Honey thought that whole plan up, and when it didn't work to drive us out, she took it a step further
and murdered my boss. And maybe Nathan found out about it and you killed him too.”

“Why, you . . .” Red reached out, ready to grab Paula around the neck.

Paula hustled back behind Adam for protection.

Adam held up his hands, trying to keep Red at bay.

Jake jumped out from behind the car and ran over.

I was right behind him.

“Hey! Calm down!” Jake shouted as he approached them. “Everyone, just chill.”

I caught up with him in time to see Paula peek out from behind Adam as her cover.

She had her Coach bag open and her hand inside.

Moments later, she withdrew a gun.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Jake said, raising his hands. “Put the gun down. You don't need that.”

Uh-oh,
I thought as I felt sweat break out on my forehead. Paula had a gun. Did
she
murder Roman and Nathan? If so, why hadn't she used the gun?

“Back off!” Paula said, wildly waving the gun at all of us. “One of you could easily be a killer and I'm not taking any chances.”

“Wait a minute.” I raised my hands like Jake. “You think one of
us
did it? Then why do
you
have a gun?”

“To protect myself, obviously,” Paula snapped.

“But you said you thought Honey was the killer and now you're accusing us.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jake inch closer to Paula. What was he up to?

“I don't know anymore, but I'm not going to stand around and be the next victim, that's for sure.
Whoever killed Reuben probably wants me dead too, since we both work for the same company. And the way I figure it, it has to be one of these apple fanatics.”

“But what about Nathan? He's not one of your GMO company men. Or is he?” I asked.

“No, he probably just got in the way,” Paula answered. “Who knows? Like I said, I'm not going to wait around and find out. I'm outta here.”

She started to back up. Adam, standing next to her, didn't move, his face frozen. Red stood with his hands in his overall pockets, looking baffled.

Jake took another step forward. “Paula, wait. Is there something you're not telling us? Something you know that could help us figure out who killed those two men?”

“No, I told you,” Paula said. The gun trembled slightly in her hand. “Now stay back!”

This time Red stepped forward, his hands still in his pockets. “Listen, miss, if you do know something, you have to at least tell the sheriff. Honey didn't do this and we need to clear her name before anything more happens.”

“Shut up, you old geezer,” Paula said, aiming the gun at him. “And back off!”

Red started to pull his hands out of his pockets.

“Don't even think about it!” Paula snapped.

“I was just going to raise my hands,” Red offered.

“Okay, but do it slowly. If I see any kind of weapon, I won't hesitate to use this gun.”

He continued to withdraw his hands. In one of his hands he held an object.

“Freeze right there,” Paula said, waving the gun. “What is that?”

Red slowly held up the round red object for Paula to see. “Calm down. It's not a weapon. Just an apple.”

Paula frowned at him, obviously puzzled.

“You always carry around—” she started to say, but Red saw his opportunity and went for it.

“Here! Catch!” he called out. With a lightning-fast motion, he tossed the apple to Paula.

As expected, Paula's reflexes kicked in and she tried to catch the apple coming right at her. In that split-second of distraction, Jake rushed over and knocked the gun from her hand. He bent over and snatched it up, then checked to see if it was loaded. He removed the clip and pocketed it and the weapon. The guy seemed to know his way around a gun.

I let out a breath of air. Red and Adam looked visibly relieved.

“Give me that!” Paula screeched, and lunged for Jake as soon as she realized what had happened. Adam and Red rushed to yank her off, wrestled with her for a few seconds, and then pulled her arms behind her back and held them tight.

“Call the sheriff!” Jake said to me.

But I was already on it.

•   •   •

“Do you think she did it?” I asked Jake on the ride back to the Enchanted Inn. The men had kept Paula under control until Sheriff O'Neil arrived. Jake
explained to him what had happened; then the sheriff arrested her—for threatening the lives of others. It was all he could charge her with at the time, but I was hoping he'd find more that would link her to the murders.

Jake shrugged. “I don't know. She certainly had motive. If she killed her boss, she could take his place in the company faster. Then again, maybe it was a crime of passion. Maybe she and Roman-Reuben were having an affair and he cheated on her.”

“But she was the flirty one,” I argued.

“Doesn't mean he was being faithful to her. Maybe that was her way of trying to get even—flirt with every guy who came along. When that didn't work, she killed him.”

“But that still doesn't explain how Nathan Chapman ties in,” I said. I thought for a moment. “Maybe Nathan found out she killed Reuben and blackmailed her?” I offered. “He wasn't the most upstanding guy around.”

“It's possible.”

“But why didn't she just shoot them?” I asked. “Why go to the trouble of using that apple corer and sharp stick to stab them?”

“Maybe to throw everyone off,” Jake suggested. “If she made it look like Honey did it, then she figured she'd be in the clear.”

“But if the sheriff still doesn't have any evidence to hold her, how is he going to prove she was the killer?”

“That's up to him. Not our circus. Not our monkey.”

I frowned at him. “What's this got to do with a circus and monkeys?”

“It's a saying. It means not our problem.”

I scrunched my nose. “Huh?”

“Never mind. Listen, I'm starved. I hope your aunt's got dinner ready. I'm sure she'll want to hear the good news about Paula being arrested. Hopefully Honey will be released soon.”

I pondered what had happened the rest of the ride to the inn. Something was still bothering me; it seemed to be just out of my reach.

So far, no fingerprints had been found on the weapons. If Paula killed those two men, she had apparently been careful. Gloves? And that meant the murders were premeditated, at least to some degree, rather than in the heat of passion.

And what about the murder in the maze? I doubted Paula knew her way around in there any better than I had. If she'd followed Nathan in and stabbed him, how could she be sure she'd make her escape in time to offer an alibi? Or had she somehow figured out the fastest way in and out?

The old adage “An apple a day keeps the doctor away” sure didn't seem to apply to the recent events. In fact, it was an apple that had caused Paula to lose her gun and end up being arrested. Apples. All those health benefits Honey had mentioned—antioxidants, fiber, vitamins, calcium, potassium—might help reduce the risk of developing such diseases as cancer, hypertension, diabetes, stroke, cholesterol, and
dementia, but there appeared to be a new side effect: murder.

I was still convinced that Eden Corporation was the snake in the Garden of Evil. What was it that Nathan Chapman had written in one of his articles? Something like “There's a nasty pest that's threatening the very core of the apple business, and the whole thing is rotten, any way you slice it.” If he really believed that, why would he consider selling his farm and his legacy?

I needed Dillon to do a little cyber-sleuthing for me and see if he could find out anything more on Nathan Chapman and Paula Hayashi. Maybe, like Adam and Eve, they'd been tempted by some kind of snake we hadn't discovered yet.

We arrived at the inn to the intoxicating smell of Aunt Abby's gourmet mac and cheese. The dining table set, the wine decanted, and glasses waiting for us. Jake and I took off our jackets, hung them on the antique coatrack by the door, and headed straight for the beckoning drinks.

“Something smells good,” Jake said as soon as Aunt Abby appeared from the kitchen. She wore one of Honey's apple-themed aprons and had slipped on a pair of bright red pot gloves. She clapped them together when she saw us.

“Oh, good! You're back! We can serve dinner now. Dillon! They're heerrree!” she called to the kitchen, then gestured with her large mittened hands. “Have a seat. The casserole will be right out. Enjoy a glass of wine. I know Honey would like you to have it.”

“Has there been any word?” I asked Aunt Abby, hoping the sheriff or Detective Shelton might have notified her about Honey's possible release.

Her smile drooped. “No. Have you heard anything?”

I glanced at Jake. “Actually there was an incident at the festival grounds after you left.”

Dillon appeared from the kitchen carrying a large green salad. He stopped when he saw the anxious look on his mother's face. “S'up?”

“I was just about to tell your mom that Jake and I overheard Paula talking to Adam in the parking lot.”

“Spying on her, eh?” Dillon said, not mincing words. He had a talent for being direct.

“I suppose you could call it that. Anyway, Red showed up and he and Paula started arguing, and then Paula pulled a gun.”

Aunt Abby's eyes flashed. “What?”

Dillon looked shocked. “She had a gun?”

I nodded. “It makes me think she had something to do with the murders, but she claims she didn't.”

“Then why would she have a gun?” Aunt Abby asked.

“She said it was for protection,” I said. “She was planning to leave town, probably because she knew the sheriff would soon realize what she'd gain by killing Roman.”

“But what about Nathan?” Aunt Abby asked.

“That's another thing,” I said. “She was talking to him a little before he was found dead. She said he
told her he was going to sell his farm to Eden Corporation.”

“Dude, that doesn't compute,” Dillon said. He set the salad bowl on the table, pulled out a large green leaf, and stuffed it in his mouth. “Chapman was, like, the head of the festival or something, right?”

“I agree, Dillon, it really doesn't make sense. That's why I thought maybe you could check him out on the Internet, see if you can find anything more about him. And Paula Hayashi too, while you're at it. Maybe there's something out there we haven't discovered yet, something that might lead to some kind of connection between these murders.”

“Yeah,” Dillon chuckled, “like a
love
connection. I saw that chick all over Chapman at the festival.”

I nodded. “That's what Willow said too. But I think Paula was just using her feminine wiles to get whatever it was that she wanted.”

“She's pretty hot,” Dillon said. His eyes glazed over for a moment.

“Snap out of it, lover boy!” I said to him.

Aunt Abby clapped her mittens together. “Everyone! Sit down! I'll bring out the casserole before it gets cold and we can talk about all this over my special mac and cheese. There's a secret ingredient in this recipe. I'll bet you'll never guess what it is.”

I looked at Jake. He looked at me. We said it at the same time.

“Apples.”

•   •   •

After dinner, I helped Aunt Abby clean up the kitchen while Dillon got out his laptop and started searching for info on Nathan and Paula. Jake was talking on the phone to his attorney buddy in Sacramento, in case Honey wasn't released and needed his help. Just as Aunt Abby and I finished, there was a knock on the door. We looked at each other, reminiscent of an old horror movie—“Who could that be at this time of night?”—then Aunt Abby went to the door, with me right behind her.

She opened it to find Detective Shelton standing under the dim front lamp.

“Wes!” my aunt said before embracing him—something I would never get used to. “Did you bring Honey with you?”

A woman stepped out from behind him.

Aunt Abby's face fell when she realized it was Paula Hayashi.

“Sorry,” Wes said. “Sheriff O'Neil is still talking to her. But she's fine. Cooperating fully. I'm sure she'll be back soon.”

Aunt Abby turned to Paula, who shouldered her way inside. “What are
you
doing here?” my aunt said to her. She turned to Detective Shelton. “Didn't Sheriff O'Neil arrest this woman for illegal gun possession?”

My aunt had really learned her police terms.

“They couldn't hold me. I did nothing wrong,” Paula said. She raised an eyebrow. “I know my rights. Satisfied?”

“But she aimed the gun at us,” I argued. “That's got to be illegal?”

Detective Shelton shrugged. “She said she felt threatened and was just protecting herself.”

“Which is true,” Paula added.

“But she could have shot one of us!” I argued.

“The gun wasn't loaded,” he answered. “I checked.”

Paula gave a smug smile.

“So, what are you doing back here?” Aunt Abby asked her, clearly as irritated with the woman as I was.

“To get my things. I'm leaving.” Paula spun around, her black hair shimmering in a cascading wave.

“The sheriff is letting you go?” Aunt Abby asked.

“He knows where to reach me,” she replied, and headed up the stairs to her room.

“Good riddance,” Aunt Abby whispered when Paula reached the top landing. She turned to Detective Shelton. “How's Honey holding up? Why hasn't she been released?”

“She's all right,” the detective said. “I'm sure Murph will let her go soon. Meanwhile, he asked me to give Ms. Hayashi a ride back here.”

Jake, still on the phone, covered the mouthpiece
and said, “My buddy should be there soon. He'll get her home, I'm sure.”

Aunt Abby nodded, but she didn't look appeased. “I hope so. I hate to think of her down there being grilled for something she didn't do.”

None of us said anything for a moment. Then Wes broke the silence. “Something smells good.”

Aunt Abby perked up a bit. “That would be my apple-pecan pie! It's fresh out of the oven—”

Another knock at the door caused us all to freeze. This one was louder and more forceful. Aunt Abby glanced at the detective. He took charge, stepped over, and opened the door.

Under the pale overhead light stood Adam Bramley.

“Adam?” Aunt Abby said. “What are you doing here?”

Adam removed his cap and stepped inside. In his hand he held what was once an expensive camera. But the lens had been shattered, the guts ripped out, and the strap cut up into pieces.