Ice Coffee Corruption, page 7
CHAPTER NINE
Though the drive to the boardwalk lasted a mere five minutes, I felt like I’d literally just blinked. My mind was so consumed with images of Jennifer that I hadn’t even realized I’d already put the car in park. The bustling downtown area of Honey Springs greeted me as I stepped out, the air crisp and filled with the subtle scent of fall leaves. The colorful storefronts, each boasting a bee-themed name, had a whimsical charm that boosted my otherwise somber mood.
As I opened my car’s back door to get the produce and honey from the back seat, the familiar sounds of the busy boardwalk echoed around me.
“You need any help with that?”
I looked up and saw Big Bib walking toward me. His overalls were covered in what looked like black grease.
“Maybe I can help you with some ways to get those clean,” I pointed out and smiled. “Busy season, huh?”
“You know it,” he said, reaching out and taking one of the bags. “Everyone wants their boats pulled up on the slip lifts and worked on before I have to winterize them. Not complaining. Good for business.”
“What time is the next ferry over?” I asked, referring to reaching the island. I needed to talk to Kirk about the interaction Patrick had had with him. It could be a key to the investigation. I wanted to gather as much information as possible before I took anything to Spencer.
“In two hours, unless you need to go earlier.” He waited for me to lock my car, and then we started toward the steps of the boardwalk, passing the marina. The gentle creaks of the wooden planks under our feet added a rhythmic cadence to our steps.
“No, I have to make pork chops for the Armstrongs, but I need to go see Kirk,” I said.
“About Aiken?” Big Bib asked, catching me off guard.
“Do you know Aiken?” I asked. “Of course you do.” I shook my head. “I’m not thinking like a lawyer.”
“What? Aiken needs a lawyer?” Big Bib asked. This time, it was he who was confused.
“No, no.” I shook my head. “Spencer IDed the person they found on the pier. It was Jennifer Armstrong. And I forgot they had a boat.”
As we walked, the scent of the lake mingled with the fresh aroma of pine from the surrounding trees. The sight of children running around, their laughter filling the air, momentarily lifted my spirits.
It might seem unusual that Big Bib hadn’t heard the rumblings about what had happened. Even though, as far as I knew, nothing had been let out publicly, there was no way to stop the gossip in a small town like Honey Springs. Big Bib never did much of anything other than fishing or boating or working at the marina. He was never one to gossip or even listen to it, so it didn’t surprise me he’d not heard the dead body was Jennifer’s.
It also didn’t surprise me that he knew Aiken and Kirk had some sort of meeting, since Big Bib ran the one and only ferry to the island where the Bee Happy Spa was located along with one other business, the Bee Farm. The sight of the ferry, docked and gently bobbing in the water, added to the quaint charm of the area.
“I sure hate to hear that. I just talked to him yesterday morning,” Big Bib looked off into the distance. The sounds of the people on the boardwalk faded away as I zeroed in on what he had to say.
“You did?” I asked, curious after having found—or rather, after Deputy had found—the pen and business card.
“Yeah, he wanted to do a little fishing really early. He said he and Jennifer had gotten into an argument, but you know me—I jump at a chance to go fishing on a fancy boat, so we took out around five a.m.” He stopped and pointed at me. “In fact, I saw you and Pepper walking down the boardwalk about half an hour before that, and when I heard footsteps at the marina, I almost thought it was you bringing the hotel their coffee and maybe one for me.”
“But it was Aiken?” I asked, wanting to make sure I knew the facts.
“Yep. We went fishing for a couple of hours, and it seemed like something was on his mind, but he didn’t want to say it.” Big Bib shrugged and caught the handle of the Bean Hive’s door for me. Such a gentleman.
“Hi there,” I greeted the folks inside as Big Bib and I made our way toward the back of the coffeehouse. “Everything going okay?” I asked Birdie, who was cleaning up the coffee station and refilling some of the condiments.
“Very busy today.” She wiggled her brows, letting me know the murder was all anyone was talking about. “And we even had to dip into next week’s muffins.”
“I’ll be right back,” I told her and gestured for Big Bib to follow me back to the kitchen.
“What, where’s Deputy?” Shelly asked.
“He might’ve found his fur-ever home with Jean Hill,” I said as she raised her chin. “We can put those down right here.”
I set my bag on the steel kitchen island, and the cool metal surface grounded me. The faster I got those pork chops cooked, the sooner I could go snoop around the Armstrong household and see exactly what was going on under that roof. The kitchen was filled with the familiar clanking of pots and pans, the hiss of the stove, and the hum of conversation from the front of the shop.
“So, you were saying they had an argument, Jennifer and Aiken?” I asked.
“Roxy, you know I don’t get into no one’s business,” he said.
“From what I heard, Kevin is putting the time of death around noon, so that doesn’t put Aiken at the scene that early unless…” I stopped to let Big Bib speak.
“It wasn’t too long after that you and Deputy were at the marina, along with Maxi and Loretta.” Big Bib brought me right back to square one, which had nothing to do with Aiken.
All I knew for sure was that Aiken was at the boardwalk, the scene of the crime. Was he staking it out? Was he… I gasped.
“What?” Big Bib asked.
“Nothing.” I shook my head, putting aside the thought that possibly it was a murder for hire on Aiken’s part. Did he hire the man we saw jump into the boat? Was he staking out the scene that early in the morning? When he saw Big Bib, did he make up a lie about going fishing because he was at the crime scene and needed to explain himself to a witness?
“I think the guy in the boat killed her and that’s the scent Deputy picked up on.” I let that sentence hang there for a moment, knowing Big Bib would make like the fish he caught.
He’d bite.
"Did Aiken ever come to do early fishing?" I asked him as I started removing the items from the farmers’ market bags.
“Not that I recall, but I don’t pay much attention, since people come and go from their boats all the time. But I guess what was odd with Aiken was what he’d told me a couple of days ago when I gave him a ferry ride over to see Kirk—that he wanted me to get his boat winterized. Then he showed up a couple of days later, wanting to go fishing.”
As I listened to Big Bib, my mind started to whirl with theories. If Aiken had asked Big Bib to winterize his boat just a couple of days ago, why the sudden urge to go fishing so early in the morning? That seemed suspicious, especially since he had just had an argument with Jennifer. Could it have been a cover for something else?
Had Aiken arranged to meet someone early in the morning to discuss… what? An argument with Jennifer? A business deal? Or perhaps something more sinister? Knowing that Aiken had seen Kirk recently also piqued my interest. What was his connection to Kirk? Was it just about the Bee Happy Spa, or was there more to their relationship?
I knew what Patrick had told me about Kirk seeing him at the spa, but Patrick didn’t see Aiken there, just Jennifer. And I wouldn’t put it past Kirk to lie. He was very good at it.
And then there was the man we saw jump into the boat. Could Aiken have hired him to carry out some dirty work? If so, what was Aiken doing fishing with Big Bib? Was the idea to create an alibi? Or was Aiken making sure he was observed at the scene but had a witness to vouch for his presence?
My mind kept circling back to the fact that Aiken had a meeting set up at the docks. The business card with the cryptic note suggested that detail was important. Had Jennifer found out about the meeting and confronted him? And did this mysterious man, possibly hired by Aiken, ensure she wouldn't be a problem anymore?
When I unpacked the apples, honey, and sweet potatoes, I couldn’t help but feel that the pieces of the puzzle were there, but I needed more information. I had to talk to Kirk, and I also had to see what other secrets Aiken might be hiding. And I needed to know why Jennifer had been there.
I glanced up at the time and saw it was just about noon. Almost twenty-four hours ago, Jennifer’s scarecrow body was discovered. And I honestly was starting to feel no closer to any truth than I was yesterday when I watched that speedboat zoom off around the bend of Lake Honey Springs.
“Do you mind giving me a ferry ride over to the island?” I asked.
“You want to go see Kirk about why Aiken was there, don’t you?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Why? We don’t need two stuffed scarecrows.”
CHAPTER TEN
Fortunately, Big Bib was a good sport about me putting my nose into Aiken’s business and the murder of his wife. He waited for me to put the produce away and let the employees know I had to run over to the Bee Farm before we headed to the marina.
As we boarded the ferry, the gentle hum of the engine started up, and the boat pushed away from the dock. The cool autumn air nipped at my cheeks, carrying with it the fresh, slightly briny smell of the lake. The water sparkled under the midmorning sun, reflecting the vibrant hues of the surrounding trees, their leaves a symphony of reds, oranges, and yellows.
Big Bib was kind enough to let the other passengers join us early. The gentle lapping of the water against the hull was almost soothing if not for the turmoil rolling around in my mind. I looked around at the other passengers—a couple of families with children looked excited about seeing the working bees at the Bee Farm and ticking off another location on their list for the scarecrow scavenger hunt. Their excitement was infectious, bringing a small smile to my face despite the serious mission I was on.
Big Bib stood at the helm, his broad shoulders slightly hunched against the chill. He was quiet, seemingly lost in his own thoughts, but his eyes darted toward me frequently as if he was weighing something in his mind.
The island gradually grew larger as the Bee Farm’s docks came into view. They were flanked by the charming, rustic buildings that housed the bees and honey production. The docks were bustling with activity—workers in their protective gear, tourists eager to learn about beekeeping, and the occasional farmer selling fresh produce. The sight was picturesque, the perfect blend of nature and industry.
When Kayla Noro looked over, I waved. She and her husband owned the Bee Farm. Until they’d gotten a very lucrative offer from the developers to open the Bee Happy Resort, they hadn’t been willing to give up any of the land they owned. She gave me a half-hearted smile, one I had seen many times during the fall season. We both knew the money the Noros brought in from the Friendsgiving Harvest Festival would have to last them throughout the hard winter months. Unfortunately, they, like anyone else on the island, could get stuck there during some of the harsh winter days and nights, thanks to the ice that formed on the lake and made it impossible to cross. Sometime this month, Kayla would come over to the mainland and gather up any necessary supplies that she’d then store for winter.
“Roxy,” Big Bib called as soon as the ferry docked at the Bee Farm, his voice breaking through my thoughts.
I turned to him and saw the concern etched in his features.
“Do you really think that person in the boat is who killed Jennifer?” he asked, his brow furrowing as he spoke.
I paused, the weight of the question settling over me. “I’m not sure, but the timeline fits, and whoever it was wouldn't stop running,” I said, my voice steady but tinged with uncertainty. “Or stop driving that boat.”
Big Bib nodded, his gaze fixed on a distant point across the water. “I got a call from Spencer this morning. I’ve not returned it yet, but if you think I should give him a call, then I will,” he said, sounding thoughtful.
“Yes, any information will help,” I told him, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “Text me when you’re ready to head back, and I’ll be here.”
He gave me a small, tight-lipped smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes, and nodded again.
As I turned to head toward the Bee Farm, I felt a pang of sympathy for Big Bib. He was a simple man drawn into a complex situation, and I could tell the weight of it was heavy on his shoulders.
While I walked along the dock, children’s laughter and the hum of bees filled the air. I loved seeing the excitement around the Bee Farm. The sight of families enjoying the day, parents pointing out the bees to their curious children, warmed my heart.
At the entrance to the Bee Farm, a large scarecrow greeted visitors. Dressed in overalls and a flannel shirt, with a straw hat perched on its burlap head, the scarecrow had a friendly expression painted on its face. Around its neck hung a colorful garland of dried flowers and corn husks, making it a creative addition to the farm’s festive decor.
A family was gathered around the scarecrow, their maps of the scavenger hunt spread out. Kayla stood nearby, handing out stickers shaped like honeycombs. The children were excitedly showing her their maps, eager to get their stickers and move on to the next location.
“Did you find our scarecrow?” Kayla asked with a bright smile as she gave each child a sticker. “Don’t forget to put your sticker on your map to show you’ve been here.”
One of the kids, a little girl with pigtails, placed her honeycomb sticker carefully on her map, right next to the picture of the Bee Farm. “We found it!” she exclaimed, her eyes shining with excitement.
“Great job!” Kayla praised, her smile widening. “Now you can move on to the next stop. Have fun!”
After thanking her, the family moved along. The parents chatted animatedly about their plans for the rest of the day. Kayla waved them off and then turned her attention to me, her smile fading slightly as she took in my serious expression.
“Roxy,” she greeted, her tone tinged with concern. “I heard about Jennifer. It’s just awful. She was just here a few days ago picking up some honey to make some pork chops for some sort of special dinner.”
“Special dinner?” I asked, wondering whether it was for Aiken or someone else. “Did she say what it was about?”
“Now that you bring it up, not that I can recall. But I do have some of your honey ready for the winter.” She sounded so excited that I didn’t have the heart to tell her I’d just picked up some honey from the farmers’ market because I had no previous plans to come to the island today, or I wouldn’t’ve bought it there.
I followed her into the shop she shared with her husband, which sold anything and everything you could make out of honey.
“You be careful over there,” Kayla said, referring to the boardwalk. She bagged up the mason jars of honey. She’d even wrapped fall ribbons around them and added downward-hanging brown tags with her logo stamped on them. “Do you know any details?”
She was clearly asking about the murder.
I considered Kayla’s question carefully. In a small town like Honey Springs, gossip spread like wildfire, but details about a murder were best kept under wraps until the police had a clear picture. I didn’t want to fuel the rumor mill, but I also wanted to honor the town’s sense of community.
“Not too many details,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “The police are still investigating, so it’s important to let them do their job. But if you hear or see anything unusual, be sure to let Spencer know.”
Kayla nodded, looking thoughtful. "Of course, Roxy. It’s just so unsettling. Everyone loved Jennifer."
“She was very well-liked,” I agreed. I didn’t know her, but I’d gathered that people liked her from what others were saying. “That’s why it’s so important to find out what happened. We need to make sure everyone feels safe.”
Kayla handed me the bag of honey, her eyes softening with concern. “You take care, Roxy. And if there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.”
“Thank you, Kayla,” I said, giving her a reassuring smile. "I'll be sure to keep you updated if there's anything you need to know.”
With that, I left the shop and headed toward Kirk’s office. The path wound through the bee enclosures, the gentle buzz of bees busy at work setting a peaceful, almost-meditative scene.
Soon I found myself on a narrow trail that led through the woods toward the Bee Happy Resort. The crunching of fallen leaves under my boots and the occasional snapping of a twig became a pattern as I walked. The vibrant reds, oranges, and yellows of the leaves overhead formed a colorful canopy, with patches of blue sky peeking through. Squirrels darted up trees, their cheeks stuffed with acorns to prepare for the winter ahead. From high branches, birds chirped melodies that blended with the rustling leaves, creating a serene symphony of nature.
The trail was scattered with acorns and the occasional pine cone, evidence of the bustling forest life. I sidestepped a particularly large pile of leaves, knowing that a playful critter might be hiding underneath.
The closer I got to the Bee Happy Resort, the more the woods began to thin and the path to widen. The large welcome sign of the resort came into view, its elegant lettering and bee motif fitting perfectly with the surroundings. The resort itself was an impressive sight, with its rustic yet luxurious design blending seamlessly with the natural landscape. The wooden beams and large windows reflected the beauty of the island, while the gentle hum of activity from within the building hinted at the many spa services and wellness programs offered.
I made my way to the main entrance, the sound of my footsteps on the gravel path mixing with the distant conversations. The scents of lavender and eucalyptus wafted from the spa, but despite the resort’s serene ambience, I couldn’t shake the sense of urgency and curiosity that had brought me here.
