The Perils of Peaches (Scents of Murder Book 3) (16 page)

“I’m going to finish. Really, I will.”

Mia and Gloria’s enthusiasm swallowed up my protest. True, it was Sadie’s life. And terribly romantic. I just didn’t want Sadie to wonder if there was more to God’s plan for her life besides a soulful guitar player in need of a good haircut. I probably wasn’t one to offer the best of advice, perhaps, because I’d let fear get the better of me time and time again. I was so afraid of making a mistake, I’d quit trying too soon. A series of failed home businesses had shown me that. Until now.

“So what do you think?” Sadie looked at me.

“I’m sorry, my mind was off, out there somewhere.” I gestured toward the door.

“I know you’re disappointed. My mother cried all last night.” Sadie frowned. “I think she thought I’d end up with my own interior design show one day on HGTV.”

“I just . . . I just don’t want you to think this is all there is.”

“Well, if the guy gives you a rock like that, I’d say things are going pretty well for him,” Gloria said. “But Andi’s entitled to her opinion, and that’s okay.”

It seems like Gloria’s earlier troubles and Mia’s situation with Terrance didn’t matter at the sight of the diamond that threatened to blind us when it caught the sunlight. I wanted to find out what the police had asked Terrance, but Mia’s expression gave no indication that her little family had been through any ordeal at all.

Gloria and Sadie moved to play with the babies on the carpet, so I asked Mia if she’d help me bring the newest soaps to the table.

Once we were out of earshot from the others, I had to ask. “I understand that Terrance was called in for questioning. What happened? How are you doing with all this going on?”

She picked up a stack of soap containers and sniffed the container of peach facial scrub on the top. “I’m doing just peachy, no pun intended. Mia and I are staying at my parents’ house right now. Terrance was horrible the other night when the police picked him up. I don’t know how he did it, but somehow he got a copy of the front door key made to the medical office. You probably know his fingerprints were all over the medicine cabinet.”

“Oh Mia, I’m so sorry.” My heart dropped to my toes. “Is there anything you can do to work it out? Has he ever hit you or gotten violent?”

“No, he never has. I just can’t deal with anymore fighting, or shouting. I hate how this pain has taken over our lives. But I won’t let it anymore. Not until Terrance gets some real help.” Mia shook her head. “He swore up and down that he didn’t steal anything. He said even if he did find any narcotics, he couldn’t go through with it. He said he could never live with himself if he ended up losing us because of what he’d done.”

I didn’t know what to believe. Had Terrance used the medicine cabinet as an excuse to hurt Dr. Bradley? If he was truly attempting to search for narcotics, why would he do that when Dr. Bradley was in the office?

A familiar yet surprising figure entered Tennessee River Soaps around lunchtime. Jerry in full Greenburg PD uniform stood just inside the doorway, surveying the displays. “How’s it goin’?”

“Fine. So what brings you here today?” I’d only seen Jerry inside Tennessee River Soaps when he was investigating a break-in over three years ago, and when someone died in my store the same morning.

“I, um, need to buy a present for someone.” Jerry shifted from one foot to the other. I’d never seen him shrink from anything.

“A present, huh? Well, if you’re going to pick something out, you need to step more than two feet inside the doorway.”

Jerry nodded and strode in my direction. “I just don’t know if I can decide, though. Aw, maybe this was a bad idea.” He moved as if to turn around.

“No, wait. I think it’s a good idea.” I reached for his arm.

He paused. “I know I always said soap is soap, but I know you women like different scents and all . . .”

“So who’s this for?” I blinked, and Jerry looked at the counter and fumbled with a travel size soap display. The dish wiggled, and the soaps slipped out, falling off the edge of the counter.

“Aw, man. Sorry.” He bent to picked them up. When he stood, his face glowed pink. “Um, I noticed on the church bulletin they have, uh, Barkha’s birthday listed. It’s July tenth. I wanted to get her a little somethin’.”

“I happen to know that her favorite is the Mandarin Ginger glycerin bar.” I moved to a display accented with silk orange blossoms. “I also developed a Mandarin Ginger antibacterial soap—actually, Sadie came up with that one. I could make up a basket for you.”

“That sounds great. I didn’t want to give her bubble bath or anything. That’s, um, a little too personal.” At his words, Jerry’s face regained its earlier flush.

“Okay. I’ll put it together for you.” I selected the items he wanted. “And there’s an orange spice hand lotion too. That’s not one of our products made here, but it’s a nice complement to the soaps.”

“Well, throw one of those in.”

“You really like her, don’t you?”

Jerry nodded. “But sometimes I wonder if anything will work out after this investigation is closed.”

“Why’s that?” The phone rang. I hollered to Sadie in the back office where she was looking up some new soap recipes and watching Hannah. “Can you grab that?”

“No problem!” came the answer.

“Maybe I shouldn’t say anything. But you’re a woman. You know how the species thinks.” He rubbed his chin.

“I should hope so. But why don’t you think things will work out?”

“We’re so different, for one thing.” Jerry picked up a bar of the orange soap and sniffed. “I mean, she can buy herself anything. Her parents own a ton of real estate and have that mini business empire. She’s never wanted for anything. And here’s my little gift. But this seems so . . . small. No offense to your soaps or anything.”

“None taken.”

“I can’t afford diamonds like her rich doctor friend can. I mean, I could buy her something special, but I think it’s too soon for that.” Jerry paced the sales floor. “What I mean is . . . aw, I don’t know.”

“If Barkha looks at things in terms of dollars and cents, sure, you might not measure up. But I do know she values some things way more than money. But you have many wonderful qualities she’d be foolish not to notice. Like a big heart. Nobody can buy that.” I stopped with that, not wanting to give him any sense of false hope. My earlier inclination to match-make had faded a bit, and I couldn’t really speak for Barkha.

“Er, thanks, I think. You’re right about the bank account. I don’t know what she’d see in a small-town police chief. Don’t get me wrong. I love my career. I know I can do what a lot of people can’t. But what if she doesn’t see that?” He leaned against the counter. “All I know is that no one’s ever caught my attention but her.”

“You’ve had your share of scheming mommas trying to set their daughters up with you over the years, haven’t you?”

Jerry chuckled. “You’ve got that right. I ate so much fried chicken I probably wore at least twenty pounds of it for the last ten years. But I’m not a hero, not like all of them think I am.”

“And that’s exactly why you are a hero, because you’re strong and yet humble. That’s why I hope and pray Barkha will love you for it. You could use your position to push people around, but you don’t. So don’t think you don’t measure up to her. Because in all the ways that matter, you do.”

“Aw, thanks, Andi. I hope she’ll realize that too.” He ducked his head like a little boy. “When can I pick up the basket?”

“Tomorrow. You can pay for it then.”

“Okay, thanks. And thanks for your vote of confidence.” Jerry flashed me a grin.

“Can I ask, have you had any more developments in Dr. Bradley’s case? What happened with Terrance?”

Jerry darted a glance toward the workroom. Sadie hadn’t emerged, so evidently she’d taken care of the phone call without any help from me.

“Terrance was cooperative, but unfortunately nothing conclusive came from the questioning.”

“Did he say where he got the key from? Because Mia told me he’d gotten in the front door with a key.”

Jerry snapped to attention with after that remark. “You know about the key?”

I nodded.

“Look, this is not public knowledge. But Terrance admitted that one afternoon he saw Eunice’s keys on her desk. So he looked through them—she has them tagged, of all things—and swiped the one for the front door. Within fifteen minutes he’d gone three doors down to the hardware store, had a copy made, and came back, with Eunice none the wiser.”

“It must have been a busy afternoon.”

Jerry shrugged. “I talked to Franklin Bradley too. I told him I was surprised the medical group didn’t have an alarm system.”

“As best I know, they don’t. Did Terrance say if he noticed anyone else there that night?”

“He claims he accessed the building on Thursday night, about twenty-four hours before the crime.”Jerry studied the display of soap he’d knocked over not long before.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“Terrance said someone had already opened the medicine locker, and the narcotics he was looking for were already gone.”

“Whoa. So couldn’t you charge him with anything? So that means there’s definitely another person out there who had access to the office. I mean, I know this. I’ve always known this. Because of the recording and the earring.”

“Look, if the buzz around town is that Terrance is the highest on the suspect list, then that gives us a chance to work while we wait for that final report to come back.”

Questions followed me around the store after Jerry left. If Terrance hadn’t stolen the narcotics, who did? And if—and I was making an assumption—if none of his fingerprints were in Dr. Bradley’s office, that meant a third party had entered the building.

The phone rang later that afternoon as I was downloading some Internet orders, and Sadie was helping the last few customers in the sales display room. I’d moved Hannah to her portable playpen near my desk, and she snoozed. After her morning of playing with her little friends and fighting sleep all afternoon, she keeled right over in a pile of cracker crumbs.

“Hi, Andi. It’s Barkha. I’m in a bit of trouble. I have two problems that I hope you can help me with.”

“What is it?”

“I was feeling homesick, so when I got home I started cooking. In fact, all my favorite dishes that my mother always made when I lived at home.”

“Wow, you must have been really homesick.”

“But now I have too much food. It’s everywhere in the kitchen and all over my dining room table. I was wondering if you and Ben and Hannah would come to dinner tonight and help me eat some of this?”

“Sure, Ben’s actually off tonight. And if it involves food, he’ll be there.”

“How about six? Is that too early? It doesn’t give you much time to go home and get ready.”

“No, that’s fine.” I hesitated, sensing there was something else Barkha wanted to say.

“I . . . do you think Jerry would come too?”

“I’m sure he would.” Honestly, they sounded like fifth graders. Do you think he likes me?

“Well, I’ll call him and invite him, then.”

“You should. Because I know he really, really like-likes you.” Now I’d fallen into the fifth-grade way of talking.

Barkha sighed. “But it’s complicated. Right now, the murder investigation sticks up between us like an electric fence. I don’t want to cause problems for him because of . . .”

“Because of the way you feel about each other?”

“I suppose so. I don’t know. I wish we could talk about it. There never seems to be an opportune time. Between my schedule and his. I shouldn’t get tongue-tied, either. I can talk to a complete stranger about their complete life story and all their medical problems, no matter how private, but when it comes to your brother-in-law, my brain shuts down and turns to mush.”

“I’ll tell you what. Make the time tonight. Ben and I will bring a dessert, and you two can watch Hannah while we wash your dishes. No pressure. But at least you’ll have a chance to spend some time together.”

“I couldn’t possibly let you do all the dishes. You’re my guests. Plus, you haven’t seen the mess.”

“Humor me. If you two need to talk, we’ll be glad to help.”

“It sounds like I don’t have much of a choice.” Barkha laughed, a rare musical sound from her these days.

“You always have a choice. I just want to, um, help. Speaking of choices, what are you going to do about Tushar moving here?”

“I’d like to always think of him as my friend. However, I can’t see myself with him, not anymore. I’m not happy that he’s going to be coming to Greenburg, but maybe this way he will see that our futures don’t lie together. I just don’t like the thought of possibly losing another friend.”

“If he’s a good friend, he’ll want the best for you.”

“The trouble is, he always believed that was him. And I don’t know if he’ll take no for an answer.” The line was silent between us.

“Okay, so what’s the second problem?”

Barkha sighed. “I wasn’t sure who I should mention it to. I did talk to Franklin, but he pooh-poohed my concerns. Do you remember when Jerry mentioned the prescription narcotics being a hot commodity?”