Scene of the Brine (19 page)

23

S
tan!” Piper cried, shocked. “Missing? Are you sure?”

“Nobody knows where he is.” Ralph ran a hand through his gray-speckled hair. “As you know, I've been trying to keep an eye on Stan's comings and goings as much as I can. When I walked over to his office today, I saw it was locked up. I checked with the woman who works for him part time. She said she hadn't heard anything from him in two days and couldn't get in when she showed up this morning. I went to his house. There was no answer when I knocked and no car in the driveway. I talked to his neighbors, but nobody knows a thing.”

“But that's crazy,” Piper said.

“Also worrying,” Gil put in.

“Sugar is convinced it confirms his guilt,” Ralph said. “She doesn't, of course, feel the same about Zach's disappearance.”

“Have you told the sheriff?” Gil asked.

“I did. I don't know what he thinks of it, though. As far as I'm aware, we were the only ones suspicious of Stan.”

“But the sheriff should be, too,” Piper protested, while at the same time feeling her loyalties waver. She wanted Zach to be exonerated, but she didn't particularly want it to be by Stan Yeager. However, Stan's going off like that was very odd.

At that point Scott came in. Taking in the three serious faces, he asked, “You heard?”

“About Yeager? I already notified the sheriff,” Ralph said.

“What effect do you think this will have on Zach Heywood's situation?” Gil asked.

Scott shook his head. “Hard to say. It certainly complicates things. We need to find Zach. He should know about this.”

“Sugar and I are trying our best,” Ralph said. He turned to Piper. “Do you think Yeager might be your cherry preserves poisoner?”

The shop door opened, and one of Piper's customers, Mrs. Anderson, came in, a small parcel in her hands. She paused to look at the others inquiringly, then said, “I'll just drop this in your basket, Piper. It's for Joan Tilley.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Anderson,” Piper said. “I'll see that she gets it.” The woman smiled and left.

Scott stared after her, then at the gift basket in bewilderment. “Joan Tilley?” he asked Piper.

“You didn't know?” Though surprised, Piper wasn't sure if she should be gratified that there was something major going on in her life that Scott didn't know about. “Of course, you've been focused on Zach, as you should be. But something's happened that's probably connected.” She explained about the poisoned jar of brandied cherries that had landed Mrs. Tilley in the hospital.

“Holy . . . !” Scott swallowed hard. “Why didn't you call me?”

“To do what? The sheriff doesn't seem to be blaming me. It probably helps that his daughter takes a large part in my pickle production.”

“But . . . your shop? Your business?”

“In trouble, yes, but I'll handle it, one way or another. I've thought about who could have tampered with my jar and left it on the shelf. Unfortunately, the list includes everyone we've been looking at along with probably half the town.”

“Was Stan Yeager in recently?” Ralph asked.

“He was, and that surprised me. He isn't normally a customer.”

Ralph nodded, as did the other two men, taking in all the possible implications of that.

Piper's phone rang and she excused herself.

“I just heard,” Will said as Piper picked up. “Tomas and I have been busy all day in the fields. What can I do?”

Piper smiled. No
Why didn't you call me
, just a simple offer of help. “Thanks, Will. Can I get back to you in a bit? Got a few people here right now.”

“You're still getting customers? Great!”

“Well . . .”

“I've got to run, Piper,” Scott called out. “I'll be back later.”

“Wait, was that Scott?” Will asked.

“Um, yes.”

“And he's coming back later?”

Piper sighed.
Simple
, it seemed, just flew out the window.

. . .

A
s Piper was ready to close up, Aunt Judy walked in. “I decided calling wasn't enough. I wanted to see you in person.” She took Piper by the shoulders and looked at her searchingly. “How are you holding up?”

At sight of her aunt's loving, sympathetic face, all the emotions Piper had been holding in rushed to the surface, and to her chagrin she began tearing up. Aunt Judy pulled her close and hugged.

“Uncle Frank and I will help you out in any way we can,” she murmured. “You can get through this.”

“I intend to,” Piper said, sniffing. “But not by imposing on people I love if I can help it.”

“There's no shame in accepting help. We all need it from time to time.” Aunt Judy patted Piper's back, then let go as a woman entered the shop to drop a small package in the wicker basket. Piper turned to grab a tissue and Aunt Judy stepped forward and thanked the woman. After the woman left, Aunt Judy said, “I heard about your gift collection for Joan Tilley. A perfectly lovely thought. Would you like me to take it to the hospital? I'll be going there tonight.”

“Would you?” Piper blew her nose. “I was going to drop them off before meeting Will at the Elm Street Café, which meant a lot of extra driving. I'd love to grab a few minutes of downtime before dinner.”

“It looks like a lot of small things in the basket that shouldn't be any trouble at all.”

“Let me load them into something easier to carry,” Piper said, and trotted up to her apartment for a tote bag.

As she helped Piper pack up the gifts, Aunt Judy said, “I'm so glad Will's taking you out for a nice evening.”

Piper smiled, feeling much the same. After Will's initial spark of jealousy at hearing Scott's voice in the background, he'd returned to his usual terrific self when they'd talked later. She was looking forward to spending time with him.

“Think you can handle all this in one bag,” she asked, “or should I divide the load in two?”

Aunt Judy tested the weight. “This is fine. I haven't lived most of my life on a farm without developing a few muscles,” she said with a grin. “By the way, did you know Frances Billings is still in town? I thought she'd gone back to Florida, but she's still at the Cloverton. I should give her a call and see if she'd like to get together.”

Piper remembered the older woman she'd spoken with at Lydia Porter's tea. Considering she was essentially saying final good-byes to her childhood home, Frances Billings had been remarkably upbeat. “Why is she still in town?” she asked.

“I don't really know. Maybe catching up with an old friend or two? I know she doesn't have family here anymore.”

“She and I met, if you remember, in the Porters' library.” Piper smiled at the memory. “She wasn't impressed with the books that had been stocked in it.”

“Well, she used to be a librarian. I'm sure that gives her strong opinions on the subject.”

“Was she? She didn't mention that.”

“It was at a private school, I believe, in Albany. She told me the name. What was it? Treyburn?” Aunt Judy waved a hand. “Something like that, not that it matters. Her family's fortune, you know, had declined, so Frances needed to support herself. That may have been where she met her husband,” Aunt Judy said, then shook her head. “I'm really not too clear on that, either,” she said, and laughed at herself.

“I'm sure Frances would love to meet with you,” Piper said. “And give my best to Mrs. Tilley tonight. I hope you'll find her doing much better.”

“I do, too.” Aunt Judy took the handmade card filled with signatures and greetings and slipped it into the tote bag. “All these good wishes can't fail to help.”

They hugged good-bye, and Piper finished closing up shop, which didn't take long with no sales whatsoever to total up.
It can only get better
, she told herself, and went upstairs to get ready for her date.

. . .

W
ill had suggested the Elm Street Café, a quiet, out-of-the-way place, which was exactly what Piper needed. They slid onto vinyl-cushioned seats at a booth that had paper place mats on a bare wood table, then studied a menu full of comfort foods. After giving a grandfatherly waiter their order, Piper updated Will on the status of her shop and how she'd been distracting herself from the lack of business with her Tilley Project.

“It's a good indication that your old customers are taking to it. If they blamed you for the poisoned cherry preserves, they wouldn't come near your shop.”

“I think so, too, and that's encouraging. A few even sounded sympathetic to my plight. Nobody was buying, though.”

“Give it time.”

Piper nodded but didn't mention that her funds for running a shop that brought in no income wouldn't last long, not to mention the astronomical cost if she had to replace all of her stock. The troubled look in Will's eyes, which he couldn't quite hide, told her he knew.

To move away from her own problems, Piper told him about Stan Yeager's apparent disappearance. “That's raised Sugar's hopes, since she's been focusing on Stan as Dirk Unger's murderer.”

Will shook his head. “The idea of Stan murdering someone just doesn't work for me. I know you said he'd lost business because of Unger stealing clients away, but I still can't see him reacting with violence.”

“I'm struggling with that, too. Unfortunately, experience has proven that the nicest-seeming person can have a dark side.”

Their food arrived, their waiter hovering solicitously to make sure everything was to their liking, and they suspended their talk of murder and suspects for a while. They were halfway through their meal when Piper noticed a surprising new arrival to the café.

She leaned closer to Will. “Don't look now, but Jeremy Porter and his sister, Mallory, just walked in.”

Will's eyebrows rose. “Without Lydia?”

“Ah, you don't know about the family's possible black sheep.” Piper explained about Lydia's sister Gwen. “I have a feeling Lydia might be keeping her close to home. That would explain why Jeremy and Mallory are here on their own.”

“Sounds like the cat's out of the bag about the sister's existence.”

“I know. Lydia might not know that, though. I'd love to have been a fly on the wall when Gwen walked in.”

Will grinned. “What do you suppose she showed up for?”

“I doubt it was for sisterly affection. Those two are clearly such polar opposites that I can't imagine any close bond. Money? She seemed a bit down on her luck. Or maybe”—Piper glanced at Jeremy and Mallory's table—“maybe she has real feelings for her niece and nephew. I'd like to think that was her reason.”

Their genial waiter came over again to refill water glasses and fuss over them. By the time he'd left, Piper's thoughts had moved on. “Aunt Judy was telling me about Frances Billings, the older lady I met at the tea who sold Jeremy Porter her house. Aunt Judy said Ms. Billings had been a school librarian in Albany. She thought the name might have been Treyburn. The friends of yours we met with for dinner—the Flemings? Didn't Jen Fleming say she'd worked at a private school in Albany? Was that the name?”

Will thought a moment. “Tedbury. I'm fairly sure it was Tedbury Academy.”

“I'll bet it's the same one. I remember Jen mentioning that Lydia had been on the board because her two children had gone there. I wonder if they, or Mallory in particular, knew Frances Billings?”

Will shrugged, though Piper had only been thinking aloud.

“If Mallory did,” Piper said, “she might like to see Frances again while she's still in town. I mean, to see her without Lydia beside her and doing all the talking. Mallory recently made a brief stab at independent action. A little more might be good for her. I'd like to encourage that.”

“Sure.” Will glanced back at the two Porters. “Worth a try.”