The Orchard at the Edge of Town (21 page)

The one she did not have, because she was a coward. A boring one.

“It sucks to be me!” She dropped another armload of branches and leaves onto the others.

“What's that, Apricot?” Jet asked from the rung of a ladder that leaned against one of the larger apple trees. His upper body and head were shrouded by leaves and branches, but his thin legs were clearly visible.

“Just talking to myself.”

“You know you do that a lot, right?” He peered out from between leaves and frowned. “You might want to go see someone about it.”

“How about you just stick to trimming trees and save the helpful advice for someone else?” she responded, bending down to gather a few more fallen branches.

“Bad morning with the family, huh?” he responded.

“Bad lifetime with the family,” she muttered.

“At least you have them to complain about. One day you might not, so maybe you should just enjoy what you've got while you got it.”

“Do you have to be so smart, Jet? Because I'm trying to bemoan my fate, and you're not making it easy.” She dropped the third armful in the barrow, stretched a kink out of her back, and tried really, really hard to be thankful for what she had.

“Hey, I just call it like I see it.” He ducked his head back inside the canopy of trees and went back to work trimming the top branches. “Besides, if you ask my granddad, he'll tell you I'm more smart aleck than smart.”

“I doubt it. The way I hear things, your grandparents think the sun rises and sets with your smile.”

He laughed, tossing a couple of small branches down. “They're pretty great people. I just wish they didn't have to go through all this stuff with the crazy librarian. She actually showed up at our house last night and demanded to be allowed to search my room. She still thinks I took her wallet and phone.”

“I hope your grandparents sent her packing.” And she wondered what Simon had thought about his sister-in-law's escapades.

Which made her wonder about Simon.

Which made her wonder if she was the biggest fool in the world for not just picking up the phone and calling the guy.

“Nah. We let her take a look. I've got nothing to hide. Poor lady got to my underwear drawer and nearly had a heart attack. It was right around that time that she decided that maybe she didn't need to search my room after all.”

Apricot laughed. Probably her first real laugh in three days, and it was at poor Daisy's expense. The woman really did need to get on a strict regimen of herbs and tinctures. A vegan diet might help too. “Did you report her to the police?”

“Granddad said that would just be cruel. She's already made such a fool of herself in town, people look at her sideways when she walks down the street.” He tossed several branches onto the ground, looked down at her again. “It's starting to rain, you know.”

“You can stop for the day.”

“We've barely started, and I like to get a job done once I sign up for it.”

“You didn't sign up for this. I volunteered you.” That was nearly the truth. She'd actually asked him to join the orchard crew while he was waiting on custom-ordered windows to be delivered. With everything else on the exterior of the house complete, Jet had packed up and told her he'd be back when the windows arrived. She could have let him go, but he'd had a look that bordered on desperation, and she'd thought that maybe his college expenses were piling up or that he was helping his retired grandparents with their mortgage.

Whatever the case, she'd known he needed the money, and she could certainly use the help.

He tossed a couple more branches down, then climbed halfway down the ladder. “You know I appreciate the work.”

“And you know that I appreciate you being the one person on the orchard crew who begins work at the crack of dawn like I do.”

He shrugged. “You're the only person I know who is willing to let me make my own work schedule. That really helps when it comes to school. I'm taking full advantage of it.” He climbed the rest of the way down the ladder, his hair already wet from rain, his body still holding on to the lean, lanky build of youth. “Of course, today I've only gotten an hour in.” He glanced up at the cloud-laden sky. “And it looks like that's going to be all. Might be all for a few days. I heard we've got a storm blowing in.”

“That's great. All that rain will be good for next year's growing season.”

“That's what I like about you, Apricot.” He brushed her hands away from the wheelbarrow. “You're always an optimist. Me? I'm just thinking about the money I'm not going to make and about the fact that I'm standing here in wet clothes.” He pushed the load to the edge of the orchard, rolled it onto the cart she'd rented, and dumped it there. “You want me to put the wheelbarrow back in the shed?”

She was going to tell him not to bother. She didn't mind a little rain. She'd grown up walking through the woods while rain poured down, and she loved the sound of it on the tree canopy, the soft slap of it on the ground.

Of course, if she told him she was going to keep working, he'd feel obligated to do the same. “Sure. I'll grab the ladder.”

“I'll get it. I took it out. Plus, this place is packed with stuff. It's not easy to get the ladder in and out.” He rolled the wheelbarrow into the shed, calling out as he went. “You going to the apple festival next weekend?”

“Of course. Rose has been working nonstop to get ready for it. She's got a hundred cases of tinctures to sell.”

“She got anything for arthritis? My grandma's hands are . . .” Something knocked against the wall of the shed, and she figured he must have been shoving the wheelbarrow into place.

“Shit!” He came running out, his face white as a ghost, his eyes dark and glassy.

“What's wrong?” She grabbed his arm, afraid he'd been bitten by something. It was late in the season for snakes, but there were plenty of other varmints that were gathering their stores for the winter. Opossums, raccoons, rats. They could all be mean when they were cornered.

“Holy crap! This is bad, Apricot. Really bad,” Jet gasped.

“What? Were you stung? Bitten? Are you having a heart attack?” She probed his jugular, and he brushed her hand away.

“I shoved the wheelbarrow so hard that I knocked over the planter. There was a bunch of dirt inside it.”

“No problem. I'll sweep up the dirt. It's been in there so long, it's dry as a bone. I could probably just leave the door open and let the breeze blow it—”

He grabbed her hand, yanked her to the door. Pointed, his finger trembling. The planter was on its side, the dirt that someone had left in it spilled out. And there, right on top of the mess, was a wallet and a shattered cell phone.

“That's not what I think it is, is it?” she whispered as if being quiet could change what she was seeing.

“I don't know. Shit! What if it is?” Jet wasn't at all worried about quiet. He looked ready to run, his eyes frantic, his face pale.

“Did you look in the wallet?”

“No. I didn't want my fingerprints on it.”

“Maybe it isn't Daisy's.”

“And maybe it is, and if it is, it's going to lead the police right to me. We need to put them back under the dirt and pretend we never saw them.”

She grabbed his arm before he could start hiding the evidence. “You know we can't do that.”

“I suppose you're going to say we should call the police,” he grumbled.

“First, I'm going to see if they're Daisy's. If they are, we'll call the police. If they're not, we're still going to call the police.” She lifted the wallet, brushed dirt off its faux leather cover, opened it.

There was Daisy, staring back at her from a really, really,
really
bad driver's license photo.

“Sweet corn fritters, it
is
hers.” She sighed.

Chapter Sixteen

“Daddy!” Rori nudged Simon's shoulder, forcing him from a comfortable doze on the sofa. He was tired as all get-out, so he kept his eyes closed and prayed she'd go find her aunt.

“Daddy!” She nudged him again. “The kittens are missing.”

He groaned and opened his eyes.

Her face was about three centimeters from his. She had a couple of little freckles on her nose and a whole lot of worry in her eyes. “What's that?”

“The kittens. They're gone.”

“Are you sure?” He'd seen them when he got home at eight. Hadn't he? He couldn't really remember.

“Yes. They were here last night, and now they're gone.” Her lower lip trembled, and the first tear slid down her cheek.

So, of course, he did what any good father would.

Made promises that he might not be able to keep. “Don't worry, honey. I'm sure they're in the house somewhere. We'll find them. I promise.”

“But me and Evie already looked everywhere, and they're not here.” She pressed her palms to his cheeks and looked deep into his eyes. “Evie said they maybe got eaten by Mr. Plumber's mean old dog.”

“Where
is
Evie?”

“She's trying to get into the attic.”

“What?” He was up like a shot. “You know I've told you girls to stay out of there.” He planned to put down flooring, but currently there was nothing but support beams and insulation.

“But she has to look for the kittens. If they didn't get eaten, they're hungry and scared. I'm just so worried about them, Daddy.” She ran along behind him, but he was too busy yelling for her sister to pay much attention.

“Evangeline Rose! You had better not be in that attic!” he hollered as he sprinted up the stairs.

“I'm not. Yet,” she responded, her voice muffled.

He ran into his bedroom, scowling as he caught sight of Evie, her legs and lower body dangling out of the hatch door in the closet ceiling. He snagged her by the waist and pulled her down. “What have I told you about going in the attic?”

“What's going on?” Daisy appeared in the doorway, a frilly apron tied around her waist. Seeing as how she hadn't spoken more than five words to Simon since their phone conversation three days ago, he was surprised she hadn't just stayed in the kitchen, cleaning the breakfast dishes.

“Our kittens are gone, Aunt Daisy,” Evie said, her face smudged with dust. “Have you seen them?”

“They were here when I woke up.” She shrugged. “Maybe your father accidentally let them out when he got home.”

The girls both shot horrified looks in his direction.

“Did you, Daddy?” Rori asked, looking like he'd just shot an arrow straight through her heart.

“Of course I didn't. I walked in the front door just like I always do. I didn't see the kittens when I came in. Did you water the flower boxes on the back porch, Daisy? Maybe they got out then?”

“Oh, so now you're blaming me.” Daisy's hands settled on her hips, her eyes narrowing.

“I'm not blaming you. I'm asking you a question,” he explained, taking both girls by the hands and leading them out of the room. “When was the last time you saw them?”

“Last night at bedtime,” they said in unison.

“And you didn't go outside this morning?”

“We brought the garbage out, but they were gone before then, Daddy,” Rori said. “I noticed they were missing as soon as we got up.”

“They had to have gotten out last night then. It's possible they've found a nice place to sleep and they'll come home in a little while.”

“Or it's possible they've been eaten,” Evie added.

“They weren't eaten,” he assured the girls, even though he wasn't actually sure. The kittens were tiny, and there were plenty of coyotes roaming around the outskirts of Apple Valley. They'd been known to sneak in and take chickens, geese, and even a small domestic animal or two.

“Well, then where are they?” Evie demanded, her hands fisted on her hips, her lower lip out. She was going to cry. He could see it coming.

“I don't know, but I'm going to figure it out.”

“I bet Apricot can help us,” Rori suggested. “She likes to help people.”

Daisy snorted.

“She does!” Rori said. “She helped the art teacher. Mrs. Lauren had a terrible back pain and Apricot gave her tea to make it better. Maybe she has tea that will make the kittens come home.”

“There is no such thing,” Daisy snapped. “The problem is, you weren't careful enough when you took the trash out. They probably slipped out with you and wandered off. More than likely they will find their way home. If they don't, I guess you'll have learned your lesson about responsibility. It's something both of you could use a little more of.”

“No need to be harsh, Daisy. The girls feel bad enough.”

“I'm not being harsh. I'm teaching them valuable life lessons.” Daisy smoothed a few wrinkles out of her apron and fluffed her hair. “It's called good parenting.”

“It isn't good parenting if what you're saying isn't true,” Evie pointed out.

“Are you calling me a liar, young lady?!” Daisy demanded, her face beet red.

“She'd better not be,” Simon broke in.

“I would never call you a liar, Aunt Daisy,” Evie responded, her sweet little face and sweet little smile warning Simon that trouble was brewing.

“Evie,” he warned.

Too late.

Her mouth was already open and the words were already spilling out. “I'm calling you mistaken. Besides, it seems to me that if you're so sure someone let the kittens outside, you were probably the one to do it!” She pointed her finger straight at Daisy.

At which point, World War III erupted.

Daisy yelled something about false accusations and started sobbing so loudly the windows shook in their frames. Her sobs made the girls cry. Next thing he knew, the entire house was echoing with the sound of sobs and of a phone ringing.

A phone?

He pulled out his cell phone, glanced at the caller ID.

Work. Of course.

“Enough!” he snapped, and Daisy and the girls fell almost silent, their hiccupping sniffles a quiet backdrop to the still-ringing phone.

“Baylor, here,” he answered. “I pulled graveyard shift last night, so if this isn't an emergency, find someone else.”

“No need to snap my head off, Simon,” Emma responded with a hint of glee in her voice. “I thought I'd be doing you a favor by calling, but if you're not interested—”

“I'm seriously not in the mood for games, Emma. If there's something I need to know, tell me.”

“Jet found Daisy's wallet and cell phone.”

He glanced at Daisy. She was trying so desperately to hear, her neck was straining as her head jutted toward him.

“Hold on,” he said. “Girls, get your schoolbooks. Your bus will be here any second.”

“We can't leave until we find the kittens,” Evie protested, but he nudged them both toward the stairs.

“I'll look while you're gone. Now hurry up. If you miss that bus and I have to drive you to school, I'm docking a half dollar from each of your allowances.”

They went reluctantly, trudging down the stairs, their shoulders stooped, their feet dragging. Even their hair looked lank and sad.

“You mind waiting with them, Daisy? I know you like to get in your car and leave for work as soon as their bus pulls away, so it'll be convenient if you do. Of course, if you'd rather I wait with them, that's okay too.”

She mumbled something under her breath, but followed the girls, tearing off her apron and dropping it on the floor as she walked outside.

He pressed the phone to his ear again. “Sorry about that, Emma. I had to deal with my family. That can be a little difficult this time of day.”

“You're preaching to the choir on that one, brother,” she responded.

“Where did Jet find the stolen items?”

“At Rose's place. Sad thing is, he found the stuff, freaked out and ran. Cade found him heading out of town in his grandfather's Oldsmobile.”

“Is he in custody?”

“Nah. You know how Cade is. He's gathering facts. Right now, he's at the grandparents' place with Jet.”

“Who's at Rose's place?”

“Max.”

“Then why are you calling me?”

“Two reasons. First, Daisy is your sister-in-law, and I thought you'd want to be kept updated on the case. Second, you've been moping around for the past three days, and I'm getting sick of it.”

“Real men don't mope.”

She laughed. “Okay. How does this sound? You've been grumpier than a pack of vultures fighting over fresh roadkill.”

“Better, but I'm not grumpy. Grumpy is for old men and toddlers.”

“Whatever you are, it's got to stop, and I have the perfect way to make that happen. Daisy's stuff being found on Rose's property gives you an excuse to have a little face time with Apricot. I suggest you use that time to iron out your differences.”

“What gives you the idea that we have differences?” he asked, because he sure as heck hadn't told anyone about the lunch that hadn't been.

“It's not an idea. It's a conjecture based on a conversation I had yesterday.”

“What conversation, and who did you have it with?”

“Rose. I just happened to run into her while I was helping set up some of the stands at the fairgrounds. She mentioned the lunch she packed for you guys. Said that not much of it had been eaten.”

“So?”

“She also said Apricot came back inside and looked like she'd seen the ghost of Abigail Shaffer. Rose was pretty excited about the idea, but Apricot said she hadn't seen anything but the end of a really nice dream. Any idea what she meant by that?”

“None,” he lied.

“Sure you don't,” she spat out, obviously disgusted. “Go to Rose's or not, but don't come back to the office tonight with a chip on your shoulder and a scowl on your face. I get enough of that when I'm at home.”

She disconnected, and he was left standing there with his cell phone in hand, the house silent as a tomb. He glanced outside. The bus had come. Daisy was gone. He could search for the kittens and then take the nap he needed.

Or, he could do exactly what Emma had suggested.

He wasn't sure which was better, so he took the easy way out and started hunting for the kittens. He combed every inch of the house and the yard with no luck. He finally had to admit that they were well and truly gone. The girls would be devastated.

I bet Apricot can help
.

Evie's words wound their way through his head.

Apricot wasn't the cure-all for everything, and she probably couldn't help, but he found himself in the SUV anyway, winding his way through town, raindrops splashing on the windshield as he made his way to Rose's place.

Max was gone by the time he pulled into the driveway, and Simon got out of the SUV, the cold rain streaming from the sky in a heavy deluge that soaked through his jacket as he ran to the front door.

The door opened before he reached it, and Lilac stepped onto the porch, her long dress swirling around her ankles. “It's about time. I thought you'd never get here.”

“I didn't think you knew I was coming.”

“Of course I knew. People are people. No matter the era they live in, the place they live, the community or culture. If you observe long enough, you start to realize that we all act in predictable ways.” She dragged him into the house and closed the door. “It was completely predictable that you would come.”

“Great. Good.” He glanced around, hoping Apricot was somewhere close by. He liked her family, but he wasn't in the mood for long, convoluted discussions. He wasn't in the mood for much of anything.

As a matter of fact, if he were honest with himself, he'd admit that he'd been about as irritable and antsy as Emma claimed.

He'd have liked to blame it on the graveyard shift, but he'd weathered that plenty of times without having it affect his mood. No. His irritation had nothing to do with work and everything to do with Apricot.

Or, rather, her absence from his life.

He hadn't realized just how much he was going to miss her quirky attitude and sunny smile. He'd even missed her ugly kitten.

“It was,” Lilac continued. “Of course, inevitable that you'd also arrive moments too late.”

“Too late for what?”

“To see Apricot before she left.”

His blood went cold at her words. “Did she head back to Los Angeles?” Because if she had, he might be tempted to take the girls on a road trip to find her.

“Why in the world would she do something like that?” Lilac asked, smoothing her hair back from her face, an armload of bracelets clinking together. “She loves this little town. She's been talking nonstop about getting the orchard going and starting a new venture here. I've had so much of her apple sauce, apple butter, and apple blossom tea that I'm starting to smell like an apple tree!”

“You said she'd left. I thought she'd gone back to LA.”

“Hardly! She went to find that ugly little cat of hers. It disappeared sometime this morning, and she's worried sick.” She sighed, walking across the living room and lifting a green vase off the mantel. “Do you see this?”

“I do,” he responded, not quite sure where she was headed with the conversation, but fairly certain he wasn't going to be able to follow.