The Perils of Peaches (Scents of Murder Book 3) (7 page)

Terrance and Mia had just left the restaurant. Mia held her little girl on her hip, and waved at me. I waved back as I left the Jeep.

“Andi, are you having Mommy’s Morning over at your store this week?” One of her daughter’s tiny fists snatched some of Mia’s blond hair that hung over her shoulder in waves. “Ouch.”

I moved to my rear driver’s side door and opened it to get Hannah out of her seat. She squealed loud enough to peel paint from the building. “I’m planning on it.” On Wednesday mornings at Tennessee River Soaps, I’d started hosting a mommy’s get-together for other young mothers. Or, I should say, mothers of young children. A lot of women my age had teenagers or at least children in junior high, but not infants. This made me the eldest of our little bunch.

“Oh good, we’re ready to get out and do something fun, aren’t we, Lizzie?”

Terrance limped to the truck’s passenger door and stood next to his wife. He grimaced and clutched his back, then rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Baby, we’ve really got to go. I need to get in the hot tub and see if I can work this knot out.”

“Sure, hon.” Mia opened the door and tucked her daughter into her car seat in the back of the extended cab, before helping Terrance into the passenger side. “Easy now.”

She smiled at him tenderly. “Better?”

He smiled back and nodded.

“What happened to your back?” I asked.

“Work. I overdid it a while back. Herniated disk. Those spring rains put us behind. We’ve been trying to make up time finishing that new housing development east of town.” Terrance shifted on the front seat. “Green Acres.”

“Who came up with that title?” My laugh came out more like a snort.

Terrance quirked a smile. “I dunno. All I do is build ’em.”

“And it’s all I can do to get this man to slow down.” Mia shut the passenger door for her husband. “He does his best to take care of us, and now I’m tryin’ to take care of him for a change. I never get to drive this truck, so put the date on the calendar!”

“You two are so cute together. I hope you feel better soon, Terrance.”

He gave me a nod.

“Well, gotta go,” Mia said. “I’ll see you Wednesday.”

“See you then.” I felt Hannah’s arms go around my neck. Now to find her daddy. We entered the restaurant and my eyes fought to adjust to the change in lighting. Hannah nearly catapulted herself from my side when she saw Ben in the dining room. He excused himself from the diners he was speaking with and approached us.

As he did, his face crinkled into a smile. “My two favorite ladies in the world.”

“We were just visiting Jerry at the station.” We exchanged a quick kiss. “I had to talk to him about one of Dr. Bradley’s dictation recordings from the night of the break-in.”

“What?” Ben took Hannah into his arms. “Why talk to Jerry about dictation?”

I pulled Ben closer to the glass case where Honey’s Place pies were on display. At the moment, no one crowded the counter by the register.

“I think someone might have tried to kill Dr. Bradley and then covered it up as a robbery.”

“What did Jerry think?”

“He agreed that it’s a possibility. I gave him the recording, and he said he’d look into it.”

“What else is going on?”

“I’m not sure. I’m trying to figure out who’d have a motive to kill him.” My voice came out louder than I’d intended. No one seemed to notice my words.

Ben sighed despite our little pixie reaching for his chin. “You don’t have to. Just let Jerry and Greenburg’s finest do their jobs.”

“You’re right. I don’t have to search for a murderer. But I still can’t push what I heard on that dictation recording out of my mind.” I shivered and rubbed my arms, and the chill wasn’t from the restaurant air conditioning. A crash from the kitchen made us both jump, and Hannah’s lower lip puckered.

“You’ll be fine.” Ben handed Hannah back to me. “I really need to check on that.”

Esther, Ben’s assistant manager, zoomed from the kitchen. “Jonas cut his finger. Bad.”

“Go on.” I squeezed Ben’s hand with my free one. “I’ll wait up for you, and so will Hannah Banana if I can’t get her to go to sleep.”

He flashed me a dimpled grin before he hurried to the kitchen.

And Ben was right. I knew I should listen to him. Honestly, it all came down to time, which I didn’t have much of. Tennessee River Soaps functioned well now without me there every day since I’d found a manager and someone to help create my soaps. Yet the idea of someone thinking he’d literally gotten away with murder wouldn’t leave me alone either.

Chapter Five

The next morning, Momma came to take Hannah for the day. I checked and double-checked Hannah’s giant bag of gear. I reminded Momma about Hannah’s routine, and that she had her favorite stuffed duck. Plus to make sure the chewy bunny stayed in the fridge where it would stay cool until she needed her gums soothed while she went through this teething phase.

“I know how to take care of babies. Wasn’t so long ago your nephews were in diapers. So I just need to stay in practice,” she said.

“Okay, I’ll try my best not to be gone too long. I’m going to the shop this morning, and then spend the afternoon canning what I have left of the peaches before they rot. Shouldn’t be any later than four, I don’t think.”

Hannah’s smile told me another tooth would emerge today. And I’d miss it.

“We’ll be fine, won’t we?” Momma’s voice took on a tone I hadn’t heard since my nephews were much younger. “That’s right, Hannah. Tell your momma it’s fine for her to go off for one day.”

At last they disappeared down the driveway, and I headed to Barkha’s. Which, of course, meant my mind probably would race around and think about who could have killed Dr. Bradley.

Barkha’s Beemer was in the driveway, so I parked closest to the groves that made up her front yard. When I asked her once why she bought a house with acreage instead of a new home, she said she wanted something with atmosphere, and not the cookie-cutter overpriced developments like the ones Mia’s husband Terrance was building. I couldn’t see how anyone would buy them, not with houses full of character for sale in and around Greenburg.

A lone figure sat on the porch. Barkha. When I pulled up, her body snapped to attention.

I made my way up the short sidewalk and then climbed the wooden steps. Barkha rubbed her reddened eyes. Her open Bible rested on a small table, and the book’s pages ruffled in the light breeze.

“Is this a bad time?”

Barkha shook her head. “No, it’s fine. I hardly slept last night. Couldn’t keep anything down, so I had to cancel my morning appointments today. Poor Eunice. I think I have a stomach virus on top of everything else going on. Sometimes God sends us hints to slow down for a moment, do you think?”

I felt as if I’d stumbled into a corner of her private world. “This is a good place to do that. It’s peaceful, and there’s almost always a good breeze. So quiet, too.” As if in response to my words, a bird called somewhere from the nearby woods.

“I love it here . . .” She sighed and looked down at her lap.

“Do you want to talk about it? Sometimes it helps to have someone to listen. I guess you know that already, being a doctor and all . . .” Here I was, letting my mouth run off again. I should probably quit the rambling and go pick some peaches.

The corners of Barkha’s mouth turned up a few millimeters. “I’m a doctor. Not superwoman, that’s for sure.” She gave a chuckle and patted the arm of the wicker chair next to hers. “Please, sit down for a few minutes. Maybe you need to slow down a bit. You work too hard, and you don’t have to.”

“Ha. Should I say, physician, heal thyself?” But I complied and settled onto the wicker chair, then took a deep breath.

We sat for a moment and listened to the breeze until Barkha broke the silence. “I know. I work too hard myself. But I grew up in a family of achievers.” A shadow crossed her face.

“You don’t talk much about them.”

Barkha sighed. “My parents came to the States when they were newly married, back in the late sixties. The land of opportunity sparkled in front of their eyes, and they seized every opportunity that came their way. Real estate. Hotels. Two apartment complexes. My brother is now the CFO of Mukherjee Enterprises. My sister is head of pediatrics at a hospital in Nashville. And here I am, the baby of the family who tried to keep up with them and couldn’t. Just being an general practitioner wasn’t enough for my overachieving family.”

“Why’d you really come to Greenburg? I know you said you wanted a slower pace, but is that all?”

Barkha chewed her lower lip. “I needed to make my own way. Plus, something happened right after I finished medical school. I knew after I completed my residency, I wanted a break. I was tired of striving, and the idea of starting another climb to the next level of success exhausted me even more.” A flash of metal through the trees lining the driveway caught our attention.

A Greenburg PD squad car, driven by my very-available brother-in-law Jerry, rounded the curve of the driveway that stopped in front of the house. Horrible timing. I’d have to ask Barkha about what happened later, but I sure wouldn’t forget. She seemed like she was ready to unpack a few secrets, and Jerry’s appearance made her close her suitcase right back up again.

Barkha’s wide driveway started to look like a parking lot as Jerry tucked his car between the Jeep and the BMW. He took his time walking to the porch. His uniform indicated this likely wasn’t a social call. But Jerry raised his hand as if to smooth his hair. I tried not to smile at the action.

“Good morning,” he called out. “I hope I’m not intrudin’.”

“Not at all.” Barkha stood. She also touched her hair, then stopped like she’d just remembered her long dark locks were swept back into a ponytail. “Have you heard anything more about the break-in?”

Jerry climbed the steps and joined us on the porch, his height dwarfing Barkha’s smaller frame. “Not officially. But Dr. Bradley’s cause of death will soon be out, so that’s why I’m here.”

Barkha gestured to the last empty chair, her movements as if someone controlled her arms with marionette strings. “I’ll try to help. If I can.”

Jerry eased onto the wicker chair. “We believe someone was in Dr. Bradley’s office with him the night of the break-in.” He flicked a glance in my direction, then back at Barkha. His eyes followed her movement as she sat down.

“So you think whoever broke in surprised him? Why would they break in if they saw lights on and his vehicle in the parking lot?”

He looked at her levelly. “Doctor, can you think of anyone who might have wanted Dr. Bradley dead?”

The breeze slapped at the Bible pages once more, so Barkha reached over and closed it. “I’m not sure. He wasn’t known for his endearing personality, but no mistake about it, Hiram was a good doctor.”

My mind rewound itself to the day that Diana and I had found Barkha at Oat Grass, the day of the break-in, and she and Dr. Bradley had been having a rather heated conversation. I didn’t want to think Barkha had a reason to silence Dr. Bradley.

“Andi?” Jerry’s voice snapped me back to the conversation. “What do you think?”

Of course, he wouldn’t volunteer any new information, but wanted to know if I had any flashes of inspiration. “I don’t know. Like you said, his acid tongue wasn’t a reason to kill him. Maybe Eunice would know something.”

“That’s true.” Barkha stared out across the small yard to the grove of peach trees that separated her home from the road. A wisp of ink-dark hair wafted across one cheek. “Hiram and I didn’t interact other than professionally. So long as I kept seeing patients and backing him up when his schedule filled, he was happy. There were occasional problem patients, though, and his chart notes gave me clear warning when I saw them.”

“What do you mean, problem patients?” Jerry’s brow furrowed, and he leaned forward in his chair.

“Oh, there are always patients who come in and complain about their medical issues, and yet won’t take his advice. Or the ones who aren’t always honest about why they come to the doctor.”

“What do you mean?”

“Someone might come in and tell us that his knee hurts, that he injured it playing tennis, for example. And he might specifically request Vicodin, a ninety-day supply.”

“That’s a strong narcotic,” Jerry observed.

“You’re right. For short-term pain, it’s very effective. However, it also has a strong addictive potential. So we talk to the patient a little bit more, and find out he has another chronic medical problem like a bad back, or even a lingering knee injury. We might eventually discover that he’s started going from doctor to doctor, town to town, so he can get his Vicodin because the original treating physician has refused to refill his prescription anymore.” Barkha looked thoughtful. “There are a few patients who’ve been released from medical care by Dr. Bradley because of their drug-seeking behavior.”

“What does that mean, exactly, released from care?” asked Jerry.

“That he politely told them to see someone else for their medical care. Once someone abused his caring side, Hiram didn’t give many second chances.”

“What about you?” Jerry’s blue eyes, so much like Ben’s, kept searching Barkha’s face.