Dropping Like Pies, page 4
“What about Andy?”
“Andy is okay, but he and Helen Crump weren’t cozy the way everyone else was.” Rhonda let out a heavy sigh. “Maybe that’s what I’ve been searching for ever since we ran off from our parents.”
“Mayberry?”
Rhonda nodded. “A place to escape from and return to at the same time. A place inside our hearts that feels like home. A place the world can’t harm.” She nodded at the window. “Sis, I’m mighty sick of the world outside of that window. I’m sick of murder, killers, evil-hearted people. I’m sick of betrayal and hate and greed. I’m sick of people hating each other at the drop of a hat. I want to go to Mayberry and stay there for good, but I can’t. Thelma Lou became Betty Lynn, and Betty Lynn got old. So sad.”
“You have Zach,” Rita pointed out. “Zach loves you.”
Rhonda looked into her sister’s eyes. “Will that love always last, though?” she asked nervously. “Right now, we still have a little youth left in us, Rita. But someday, we’ll start to really wrinkle up, and then what? Will love fade away and become something I’ll have to search for in an old TV show?”
“Rhonda, I didn’t know you were thinking these thoughts.”
Rhonda shrugged. “I’m going to marry Zach and see what the future holds, sis. For better or worse, I still have Thelma Lou, right?”
Rita stared into her sister’s eyes, and for a second, she thought she saw tears form. “You’re really having a difficult time, aren’t you?”
“Aging, you mean?”
Rita shook her head. “You’re having a hard time readjusting to our new life, and so am I. We spent twenty years as cops facing the real world—the ugliness of the real world—every single day. And now that we’re growing older, now that we have time to step back and breathe, we’re not sure where we really belong anymore.”
“Mayberry,” Rhonda said.
“Clovedale Falls can be our Mayberry,” Rita promised.
Rhonda scratched the tip of her nose. “Clovedale Falls has some very eccentric people living in it. I’m not sure Mayberry can handle the likes of Old Lady Cunningham and her gang of old farts.” She forced a smile. It was time to stop being sad…well, it was time to put on a brave face, at least. “Wake me when Zach arrives with breakfast.” She went back under the covers and grew silent.
Rita sighed, folded her arms, and stared at the warm fire. Her thoughts drifted off to Billy. Becoming the wife of a Georgia farmer was sure going to take readjusting, and Rita still hadn’t entirely readjusted to her new life in Clovedale Falls. “I guess nothing really makes absolute sense,” she whispered to herself. “We just take it one breath at a time and see what happens.”
“Donuts, yum,” Billy mumbled in his sleep, happily oblivious to the fact that he was now the target of two very dangerous and creepy old men.
Chapter Five
Zach saw Tom and Brent step into the old hallway, lined with eight doors on the left and eight on the right. Each door led into a private, comfortable room that resembled Rita’s, and each room was occupied by a guest who was not pleased to be snowed in.
Zach’s mind wasn’t on the snow, though, but on Tom and Brent Graft. “What are they doing?” he whispered to himself, spotting the brothers walking toward him. Brent was pushing a breakfast cart loaded with all kinds of goodies.
“Good morning,” Tom called to Zach in a surprisingly friendly voice.
Zach stared at Tom. The old man was wearing a brown suit instead of rugged lodge clothing. Brent was wearing a gray suit. The sight of the two dangerous spiders wearing suits took Zach aback. “I was just going to the dining room to get some breakfast,” he told Tom in a careful tone.
“No need.” Tom beamed and pointed at the breakfast cart Brent was pushing. “We are delivering breakfast to you and your friends. We called your rooms but received no answer. I assume you’re all in Ms. Rita Knight’s room?” He nodded toward the door leading into Rita’s room.
Zach glanced over his shoulder to look at the door, then focused back on Tom and Brent. “Because we’re snowed in, we decided to spend the day playing board games,” he explained. “I’ll take the breakfast cart. Thank you.”
“Oh, no, no. We wouldn’t hear of it,” Tom objected, flashing a plastic smile at Zach. Tom forced his bony face to fill with false regret. “I fear that my brother and I treated Mr. Northfield rudely yesterday. We want to apologize to him in person.”
“That’s right,” Brent chimed in, patting the breakfast cart. “Donuts and coffee may not take away the sting we caused, but it could be a start.”
Something inside Zach’s gut told him the breakfast cart was bad news. “Mr. Northfield isn’t feeling well,” he told the brothers. “I’ll take the food to him and relay your message.”
Tom glared at Zach. The annoying fly obviously wasn’t going to let anyone see Billy. “Very well,” he told Zach in a suddenly cold voice. “My brother and I were simply attempting to offer a sincere apology.”
“Here,” Brent said, almost shoving the breakfast cart toward Zach. “Tell Mr. Northfield that his room is now compensated for and that we have the cash he paid for his room in an envelope at the front desk. Please tell him that my brother and I are sorry we were rude to him yesterday, okay?”
“I’m sure Billy will appreciate that,” Zach said, forcing a weak smile to his face. He grabbed the breakfast cart. “We all have bad days.”
“Yes, we do,” Tom said in a way that seemed more of a threat than a reply. “Let’s go, Brent.”
Brent glared at Zach, then turned and walked away with his brother.
“Those two spiders need to be stepped on,” Zach whispered to himself as he watched Tom and Brent leave the hallway. As soon as the coast was clear, he examined the breakfast cart. “Donuts, muffins, fruit, coffee, milk, cereal, oatmeal, boiled eggs, pancakes—a regular feast.” He studied each food item and then bent down to focus on the wooden structure that made up the breakfast cart. “Nice cart,” he whispered as he began searching for a bug, not really expecting to locate one. But to Zach’s shock, he located a tiny black listening device attached to the underside of the breakfast cart.
Zach pushed the breakfast cart several feet away from Rita’s room door, parked it there, and hurried back to his friends. “The Graft brothers brought us a bugged breakfast cart,” he stated once he was in the room. “I pushed the cart down the hallway a little bit.”
Rhonda yanked the comforter off her head and looked at Zach in alarm. Rita stiffened and then leaned over the side of her bed. “Billy, honey, wake up. Wake up, Billy.”
“Step on the bugs,” Billy said, snorting in his sleep.
Zach hurried over to Billy, squatted down, and shook the sleeping man’s shoulder. “Billy, want a donut?”
Billy’s eyes popped open, widening with excitement. “Donut? Did you say donut?” He sounded like he’d been awake for hours instead of coming out of a deep slumber. “Oh boy! Donuts!”
Rita sighed. “Only Billy.”
Rhonda, ignoring the fact that she was in her bunny pajamas, jumped out of bed, ran to the wooden table, snatched open her purse, and yanked out a gun. “I knew those two creepy old men were no good.”
Billy frowned. “Hey, that’s not a donut. What’s going on here?”
Zach quickly explained the situation as Rita crawled out of bed to retrieve her own gun out of her purse. Though still sleepy, Billy listened carefully. “Can we at least have the breakfast?” he asked Zach.
“The food might be poisoned,” Rhonda cautioned as she checked her gun. “It’s time to go arrest two skunks.”
“On what grounds?” Rita asked, making sure her gun was loaded with a full clip. “Unless the food is really poisoned, we don’t have a leg to stand on.”
“The bug—” Zach began.
“The Graft brothers can claim anyone other than them put the bug on the food cart, Zach,” Rita explained. “The same can apply to the food, but because they are in charge of the food—”
“That would complicate any attempt to appear innocent,” Rhonda finished. “But don’t worry, Rita and I don’t care about what some sleazy lawyer might say against us in a court of law.” She then gestured toward the door. “My sister and I need to get changed into some warm winter clothes, so out, you two. And don’t go wandering off, and don’t say a word out in the hallway.”
“Come on,” Zach told Billy.
Billy sighed. “No donuts,” he pouted, crawling out from his sleeping bag. He stretched and then stepped out into the hallway with Zach.
Rita and Rhonda quickly changed. Rita threw on a dark brown dress and a heavy blue sweater. “How do I look?” she asked.
“Like a blueberry,” Rhonda answered as she tossed on Rita’s yellow sweater that didn’t exactly complement Rita’s green dress she had chosen to wear. She didn’t want to waste time running to her own room to change into her own clothes. In any case, when in the deep winter woods, style didn’t matter.
“Well, you look like a demented banana,” Rita fired back.
Rhonda checked her gun. “A pretty demented banana,” she told Rita, then her thoughts returned to Billy. “I’m thinking the Graft brothers might have killed Roger Edwards, sis.”
“Me too,” Rita agreed, also refocusing on the case. She walked to the window, pulled back the drapes, and saw heavy snow piled up against the glass. “There’s no way we can survive out in this storm.”
“We wouldn’t get ten feet. Listen to that wind.”
Rita heard the fierce, howling wind that could steal a person’s body heat in seconds. “Our only choice is to arrest the Graft brothers and then explain ourselves to the local authorities once the storm passes.”
“With the Graft brothers under lock and key, we might be able to get some answers,” Rhonda said with a nod. “If not, what’s the worst that can happen?”
“We’ll face a slew of legal charges,” Rita answered. She turned away from the window and put her gun away. “Billy’s life is in danger, Rhonda. I would rather risk being tagged as the bad guy than see Billy face any harm.”
“Then let’s move.” Rhonda walked to the door, eased it open, and motioned for Billy and Zach to step back in.
Poor Billy was staring down at a plate full of chocolate donuts with pitifully hungry eyes. “Not fair,” he whispered before stepping back into Rita’s room.
“This is the deal,” Rhonda explained as soon as Zach closed the room door. “Rita and I are going to arrest Tom and Brent Graft.”
“That’s more like it,” Zach told Rhonda in a relieved voice. He patted his side. “I have my gun attached to my belt. I’m ready.”
“Now, wait just a second,” Billy said grumpily, plopping down on Rita’s bed. “Now listen. Zach showed me that thing you call a bug, and I admit the situation does seem a little fishy—”
“Billy, your life is in danger, and—” Rita began.
Billy held up a quick hand. “That might be so, and I reckon it is so, but rushing off to arrest two old farts without using our brains isn’t the answer.” He let out a loud yawn and stretched his arms. “I didn’t want to think those two meant any harm from the way they treated me yesterday, but I ain’t stupid, either.”
Zach studied Billy’s face. “What do you suggest we do, Billy?”
Rita and Rhonda waited for Billy to answer. He slowly folded his arms, gazed at the fireplace, and sat silent for a minute. When he spoke, he sounded calm and thoughtful. “I spent a lot of time lying awake and thinking about old Roger before dropping off to sleep,” he finally spoke in his simple Georgia drawl. “I’ve been assuming that he left me all his land because he felt obligated to me for saving his life and because he didn’t have no family. No, sir, none at all.”
Rhonda and Rita sat at the wooden table. “We’re all ears, honey,” Rita said, reading Billy’s eyes. Billy might seem simple, but he wasn’t a stupid man.
“Been some long years since I’ve seen old Roger,” Billy continued. “When that fella left Clovedale Falls, he left it in a mighty bad way. His old man was shipped off to prison for robbery, and his momma lost their farm. Old Roger didn’t leave Clovedale Falls holding his head high. That fella left madder than a bear being stabbed at with a hot iron.”
“How does that tie in to you?” Zach asked Billy.
“Well, that’s the strange thing,” Billy said. “My brain ain’t come up with a likely answer. And because my brain is still tangling with that question—”
“You started to think about Mr. Holston. Right, honey?” Rita asked.
Oh, how Billy loved it when Rita called him “honey.” He felt his grumpy mood starting to melt away. “Right,” he said, smiling at Rita’s beautiful face. “That Mr. Holston fella seemed awful anxious for me to sign them legal papers and take ownership of Roger’s land.”
“Yes, he did,” Rita agreed.
Billy’s smile turned into a frown. “Now, I don’t like to think down about folks, you see, but that Mr. Holston fella didn’t sit well with my gut. He came off like a sour plate of collard greens.” Billy shook his head. “But he had them legal papers that are nice and neat in the eyes of the folks who live up here in Alaska.”
“Which brings us back to the Graft brothers, right?” Zach asked. “And the possibility that Roger Edwards bought land that belongs to the Caribou Falls tribe?”
“That path is one we’ll look at,” Billy promised Zach, “but first, I want to tell you what my mind thinks of Mr. Holston.”
“Go ahead, honey,” Rita urged Billy.
“Yes, tell us,” Zach echoed. He sat down next to Rhonda and waited.
Billy rubbed his chin, yawned again, and then listened to the snowstorm howl and scream for a minute. “We’re trapped in by this storm, and that’s not good. But in a way, the storm is a blessing, too. Right now, that Mr. Holston fella can’t get to us, but that don’t mean them two old farts are out in the cold.”
“What are you saying, Billy,” Rhonda asked. “Cut to the cheese already.”
Billy looked at Rhonda and chuckled. “In my day, cut to the cheese meant that you—”
“Billy, speak kosher,” Rita pleaded.
Billy chuckled again and gave Rhonda a wink. Rhonda winked at him right back. “That Mr. Holston fella was mighty interested in convincing me to sell Roger’s land,” Billy said. “He even told me he had a buyer.”
“When did this conversation take place?” Rita asked, confused. “I was present the entire time Mr. Holston was on your farm.”
“When I walked Mr. Holston back to his car, we talked for a few minutes before I told him how to get back to town,” Billy explained.
“Billy, why didn’t you tell me what Mr. Holston—” Rita began.
“Didn’t think much of it at the time,” Billy replied with a shrug. “The way my mind has been able to figure it, that Mr. Holston fella needed someone to take Roger’s land off his hands just long enough for him to rig up some type of plan. At least, that’s what my mind seems to have latched onto while lying awake during the night.”
“Which makes you a middleman, in a sense,” Zach stated. “But how does that tie you to Roger Edwards? Why were you chosen for this deal to begin with? Why do the Graft brothers have it out for you? There are too many questions, Billy.”
“Look,” Billy said, drawing in a deep breath, “there is something I ain’t told any of you. Especially you, Rita.” He looked pained as he saw Rita tense up. “Roger’s land had some mighty ugly back taxes attached to it. I paid those taxes in order to take possession of the land. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. At the time, I figured I’d sell the land, get back the money I paid on the back taxes, and still make a pretty penny for you.”
Rita and Rhonda glanced at each other. The plot was thickening.
“And Mr. Holston already has a buyer set up, right, honey?” Rita asked Billy instead of becoming angry.
Billy nodded.
“Rhonda, we have to get in touch with Brad somehow and have him run Mr. Holston,” Rita said.
Rhonda nodded at the window. “Our cell phones are useless, and the only landline is the one at the front desk. In this storm, I’m not sure that phone would even be operable.”
Rita looked back at Billy, sensing that her future husband hadn’t finished speaking yet. And not only was Billy not finished, he had a plan.
Chapter Six
Tom and Brent were tied up at the front desk by a very angry and bitter seventy-year-old woman who had lived her life as a cross-country skier. The woman was fussing up a storm in a thick Russian accent. “I demand more wood for my fire at once! I will not sit in the cold and wait out this storm!”
Tom looked at the beautiful yet stern-looking red-headed woman accompanying her grandmother. She looked to be about thirty. “When you checked in as a guest, you signed a paper agreeing to get your own wood from the pile out back,” he told Lila Petrov and her grandmother coldly. “As you can plainly see, my brother and I are up in our years and can no longer carry wood to the guest rooms.”
“We demand wood!” the old woman snapped and then pointed at her sweater. “I will not set foot in the snow, and this sweater will not keep me warm forever.”
Lila put a firm hand on her grandmother’s arm. “I will go get the wood since no men seem to be present,” she scolded Tom and Brent in a tone that would shame any man. She glanced down at the thick sweater she was wearing and looked back up. “I will need to get my coat and boots. Grandmother, you stay in the lobby where it is warm.”
Tom and Brent were anxious to slip away to the back office and start listening to the conversations that were surely taking place in Rita’s room. Bugging the breakfast cart had been a clever idea—at least Tom and Brent had thought so—and both brothers were certain that sooner or later, they would hear valuable information leave someone’s mouth.
“Yes, stay in the lobby, Mrs. Petrov,” Tom said as he began to turn and walk away, but Lila’s grandmother yelled at Tom in Russian before he could escape. “What now?” Tom barked.
