Sour Cherry Turnover Read online

“I don’t know.” Erin tried to replay it. “Just… on the floor. Near his head. Not in the… pool. Just to the side.”

  “Good. Why did you pick it up?”

  “It’s mine.”

  “But you know you can’t touch evidence at a crime scene.”

  “I just wasn’t thinking. That was what I came for, so I picked it up. It was automatic.”

  “What happened next? Did you see or hear anything that might have indicated someone was still here? Smell any perfume or body odor?”

  The question triggered a memory, not of perfume, but the scent of blood. Even though her eyes had been trying to tell her it was just cherry pie filling, her nose had known that it was not. Erin gagged. The sheriff took a step back from her, getting his feet out of the potential splash zone.

  “Sorry,” he apologized. “What was it?”

  “Blood.” Erin swallowed, trying to settle her stomach. “Ugh. So much.”

  He nodded and spoke soothingly. “The door to the basement was ajar. You didn’t go down there, or see or hear any sign of anyone?”

  “No.”

  “Until Terry came in.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Tell me what he did when he came in.”

  Erin looked at Sheriff Wilmot, frowning. Terry had surely told him what had happened from the time of his arrival. “Um… he told me to stop. I think he told me to put the rolling pin down. But I was kind of stuck.”

  “Then what?”

  “He told K9 to stay, he put on gloves, and he took the rolling pin away from me and put it down. After that… I’m not sure.”

  “I gather that’s when he brought you out here and called for backup.”

  “I guess. I don’t remember.”

  “Okay.”

  Erin saw the sheriff nod to someone outside of her field of vision, and then Terry returned. He put down what looked like a tackle box full of various swabs, packages, and plastic bags.

  “You’d better take this part,” he told Sheriff Wilmot.

  The sheriff nodded. He put on a pair of gloves and removed the bag from one of Erin’s hands. She watched as he swabbed the skin with several different swabs, putting each into a different container or bag. When they were sealed, he and Terry both scribbled their initials over the seals. Then there were sticky strips of paper that were stuck to Erin’s hand, peeled off, and then preserved in evidence bags.

  “How about this spa treatment?” Sheriff Wilmot joked. “A wash, a peel, and now I’m going to give you a manicure.”

  Erin laughed, but Sheriff Wilmot next scraped under each of her nails and clipped a couple of them back, preserving his findings in a small bag. He and Terry marked each of the bags and then repeated the same procedure on Erin’s other hand. Sheriff Wilmot released her hand.

  “You can have this back now.”

  Erin rubbed her hands together. “I’m done?”

  Sheriff Wilmot looked her over carefully. “I don’t see any blood or other transfer on your clothes, so I don’t think we need to take those.” He looked at Terry. “What do you think?”

  Terry shook his head. “Don’t think so. There’s no spatter, nothing on her knees; I don’t think she touched the body.”

  “I’m sure we’ll have follow-up questions. We know how to reach you,” Wilmot told Erin.

  She smiled and nodded. The smile felt strained and unnatural.

  “You don’t know where Charley is, do you?” Wilmot asked casually.

  “No… I’m sure she has a lot to do before her grand reopening. But…” Erin realized belatedly how everything she said had pointed a finger at Charley. “I’m sure… Charley didn’t do this. She couldn’t have. What reason would she have?”

  “We’ll look into that, I can assure you. We’ll see where the evidence leads. But Charley will obviously need to be interviewed, just like anyone else connected with this business.”

  Chapter Ten

  E

  rin said that she was just going to go back to the bakery, but Terry wouldn’t hear of it.

  “Vic can manage on her own. You’re not in any shape to be working right now.”

  “I’m okay. It wasn’t that bad.”

  “Tell that to someone who wasn’t there. Maybe they’ll believe you. I’m taking you home. I’ll pop into Auntie Clem’s later, help Vic close up, and bring her home. You can spend the rest of the day cuddling with the animals.”

  Erin sighed. “Well, I guess. If you won’t let me go back to the bakery.”

  “Nope. You need some quiet recovery time, not gossipy customers. They’ll all find out what happened soon enough.”

  Erin closed her eyes for the few blocks back to her house. Terry parked the car. “I’ll walk you in.”

  Erin suddenly remembered about Jeremy. “No, that’s okay. I’m fine.” She opened her door, jumped out, and was halfway to the house before Terry could get out to follow her. He stood beside his car, looking bewildered. Erin gave him a cheery wave and let herself into the house, swinging the door shut behind her.

  She hoped that Terry would take her strange behavior as resulting from her traumatic experience and not be offended by it. She didn’t want to push him away, but she didn’t want to damage her friendship with Vic by betraying her brother to the police after promising to keep his presence ‘on the down-low’ either.

  Erin moved away from the door and went to her bedroom, hoping that if Terry were watching, her movements would seem natural. She paused in the bedroom, watching his car through the slatted blinds until it pulled away from the curb. A moment later, she heard the door to the master bedroom.

  “Erin?” Jeremy asked in a low voice.

  “Yeah, it’s me.”

  They both poked their heads out their bedroom doors to look at each other. Jeremy nodded and let out a breath. “What are you doing home? I know you started early, but I didn’t expect you to be home before four.”

  “Oh…” Erin realized she was going to have to explain it to Jeremy, and wasn’t sure she was up to it. “Well, something happened.”

  “Is everything okay? Where’s Vic?”

  “She’s still at the bakery. Terry will drop her off later. Though now I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. She should probably tell him she wants to walk, because if he brings her home, he’s going to expect to come in.”

  “Terry is the cop?”

  “Yeah.”

  “This is more complicated than I expected.”

  “A bit,” Erin admitted.

  He took a step toward her. “So, what happened? Are you sick?”

  “No,” Erin denied her queasy stomach, knowing that it wasn’t the result of a virus. “I just… well this lawyer in town, Don Inglethorpe… he was in The Bake Shoppe…”

  Jeremy nodded, his eyes narrowing.

  “I went over there to get my rolling pin from Charley, but she wasn’t there, and he was, and…”

  “Who is Charley? She’s the other girl who was with you when you came to the farm?”

  “Yeah. My half-sister. She’s opening up the other bakery, The Bake Shoppe.”

  “The other bakery?” he repeated blankly.

  “When my rolling pin was missing, I knew she was the one who had taken it. Or I figured she was. So I went over there to confront her.”

  “And found Don Inglethorpe there instead.”

  “Yeah.”

  Jeremy waited for more. “And…?”

  “I just… I guess it gave me a turn. I wasn’t expecting that. Terry said I shouldn’t go back to Auntie Clem’s, but I should come home and relax…”

  “This Don Inglethorpe… did you have a fight? Or you just don’t like him…?”

  Erin stared at Jeremy. She rewound the conversation, trying to figure out how it had gone off the rails. “No… he was dead.”

  At that, Jeremy looked staggered. His eyes got wide and he grasped the doorframe, knuckles turning white. “Who was dead? Don Inglethorpe?”

  “Yes.”

&nbs
p; “What happened? Was he shot?”

  “Shot? No. He was…” Erin suddenly couldn’t frame the words. It seemed so brutal, so violent and intrusive even to say what had happened. “The rolling pin…” She made a little clubbing motion with her hand.

  “With the rolling pin? He was beaten?”

  Erin nodded.

  “To death?” Jeremy checked, disbelief in his voice.

  She nodded again.

  Jeremy swore. He reached out a hand toward Erin. “Are you okay? No wonder the cop told you not to go back to work. You discovered this guy?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  He used both hands to push his shaggy blond hair back from his face. It was strange to see him so serious, when she had usually only seen him smiling and laughing. “I should do something,” Jeremy mused, talking to himself. “Should I get you a drink? Tea?”

  “Actually, tea does sound good.” Usually it was Adele or Vic who made Erin tea, if she wasn’t the one making it. She wasn’t sure what she thought of the tall young man rattling around her kitchen.

  “Tea,” Jeremy agreed. “That’s what my mom would say.” He went into the kitchen.

  Erin followed him and when he started opening and closing drawers and cupboards, indicated the proper cupboard.

  “Ah,” Jeremy pulled down a tin of assorted teas and handed it to Erin. “Pick out what you like. There’s the kettle. I’ll get the water on.”

  He talked like he was coaching himself, giving himself the steps one at a time. Erin pictured Mrs. Jackson trying to teach her sons some civility, walking them through various little services, drilling them on what they would do in different circumstances. What do you do if someone is ill? What do you do if they’ve had bad news? How do you make a cup of tea for a lady?

  Jeremy’s hand hovered over the teacups in the same cupboard as the teas and service. “Do you have a favorite? Which one do you want?”

  “The blue one,” Erin suggested, selecting a cup with a wide, shallow bowl. It would cool more quickly than a deeper cup, so she’d be able to drink it sooner.

  Jeremy took the cup carefully down from the shelf. He took down the tea tray and lifted the lid from the sugar bowl to make sure it was filled. “Do you want milk? Cream?”

  “No. Just sugar is fine.”

  He started to take the tray over to the kitchen table, then hesitated, listening to his mother’s unheard prompts in his ear. “Do you want to take it in here? Or the parlor? Or do you want to lie down?”

  “Here is good, Jeremy. You’re doing just fine, thank you. I appreciate it.”

  She selected a ginger tea from the tin and put the rest back away. Then she sat down at the table to give Jeremy a chance to finish his service without interference. They waited for the kettle to boil.

  Orange Blossom came into the kitchen, sniffing the air and looking at Erin with confusion, clearly wondering what she was doing home already. He meowed loudly a couple of times, demanding an explanation and soothing words and pats from Erin.

  “Silly kitty,” she told him. “You should just be happy mommy is home early!”

  Jeremy watched her with the vocal cat. “You have a very loud cat,” he told her.

  “Oh, you noticed, did you?”

  “He doesn’t like closed doors.”

  Erin laughed. “No, he doesn’t. He wants to know everything that is going on in this house. Curious as a cat.” She scratched the cat’s ears. “Were you giving Jeremy a hard time, Blossom? You should be a nice boy. Let him sleep!”

  “I was afraid the neighbors were going to be coming over to see what was wrong. He’s like an alarm bell!”

  “Well, at least you can be assured that it wouldn’t be the first time one of the neighbors complained about him being too loud. It’s a regular occurrence. Not just because you’re here.”

  “Well, that’s good,” Jeremy agreed.

  Erin watched him pour boiling water into the teapot, and then he placed it before her.

  “There you go. Would you like anything else?” He looked around the kitchen, evaluating. “A cookie?” He moved toward the cookie jar.

  “Uh, no. Those are dog biscuits, actually.” Erin poured water into her cup and swirled the teabag around.

  “Dog biscuits. Well, I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t help myself to one for breakfast. But you don’t have a dog, do you?”

  “No. Terry does.”

  “Oh, right. I remember that whole thing at Christmas. K9, right? He’s recovered from his experience?”

  Erin nodded. “He’s just fine. No ill effects.”

  She grew self-conscious under Jeremy’s gaze. She motioned to the tea. “Help yourself to a cup. Don’t make me drink alone.”

  He hesitated.

  “Or if you do want a cookie, there are some in the freezer.”

  Jeremy gave a sheepish grin and went over to the fridge. He opened the freezer door. There was always plenty of baking in Erin’s freezer. He looked over the variety. “Is there something particular I should have?”

  “Anything in there is fair game. In case you forgot, I run a bakery. There are always leftovers.”

  He looked through the zip-sealed freezer bags and settled on a couple of chocolate chip cookies.

  “Put them in the microwave for thirty seconds,” Erin advised. “They’ll be just right.”

  He put them on a small plate and followed her directions. When the microwave beeped, he sat down across the table from her to eat.

  Chapter Eleven

  E

  rin should have known that word of the murder and Erin’s part in finding the body would get around town before Vic even got home. The doorbell rang shortly after she had finished her tea and Jeremy ducked back into the bedroom while Erin went to answer it.

  It was Adele, Erin’s friend and official groundskeeper of the woods on the property Erin had inherited from Clementine, including the summer cottage Adele resided in. Adele had needed somewhere to live, and Erin had needed someone to keep an eye on happenings in the woods, so it was a mutually beneficial relationship. Erin had grown closer to the tall, reserved woman over the previous few months.

  “Hi, come on in.”

  Adele accepted the invitation. Her eyes went to the kitchen, then around the living room. Erin had a feeling Adele picked up on a lot more than she gave away. Adele sat down in one of the chairs, her back straight and stiff.

  “Are you okay, Erin? I heard… I thought I’d come and see if there’s anything you need.”

  “I’m okay. Everybody is treating me like a china doll, but I’m really not. I don’t need to take the afternoon off, and I can do most things for myself even if I did have a shock. I barely even knew the guy, so…” Erin trailed off, not sure what that proved.

  “You’ve already had yourself a cup of tea,” Adele had either seen the dishes on the kitchen table or had smelled the ginger tea, “and probably all you want to do now is lie down for a rest. You don’t need to be entertaining company right now.”

  “I don’t mind…”

  “But you don’t need it,” Adele said firmly. “The last thing you need is a house full of guests.”

  Erin was careful not to look toward the master bedroom where Jeremy was keeping himself hidden.

  “If you want to talk or need anything else from me, you know how to reach me.” Adele rose to her feet.

  “I’ll be okay, Adele,” Erin assured her. “Really.”

  “If you need anything, call. I’ll be over here in a jiffy. Okay?”

  Erin nodded.

  Adele leaned in and gave Erin a brief hug around the shoulders, something she did not normally do. Adele whispered in Erin’s ear, lips almost touching.

  “Anything, okay?”

  Having received Erin’s text, Vic told Terry that she wanted to walk home, so it was a little later than usual when she arrived. Terry had helped with clean-up as he had promised, but it didn’t go as quickly as when Erin and Vic were working together, following the routi
nes that had become habit.

  “Whew, what a day!” Vic dropped her bags on the floor and gave Erin an exuberant hug. “Are you okay? Let me look at you.” It was a minute before she could take a look at Erin, as she was holding onto Erin too tightly and had to release her and step back. “You look okay. Did you end up being bored all afternoon? Or did you have a nap?”

  Jeremy had come out of the bedroom. He laughed and gave Vic a quick squeeze around the shoulder. “Erin had me to look after her, so she’s just fine.”

  “Oh, what did you do? Demand that she wait on you hand and foot?”

  He raised his eyebrows, putting his hand on his chest. “Me? Just because I used to order my little brother around, that doesn’t mean I’d do that to Erin! I even made her tea.”

  Vic gave a gasp. “Tea? You?” She turned to Erin. “Should I take you to the hospital now or later?”

  Erin laughed and shook her head. “He did just fine. He was very helpful. Be nice to him.”

  “I’m always nice to him, aren’t I, Germy? So, where’s my dinner?”

  “You’ll have to make your own. I used up all of my domestic skills boiling water.”

  “I have the solution,” Erin interposed. “Bread and jam.”

  “We do have frozen dinners,” Vic said, their other fallback when they were too tired at the end of the day to make anything else, which was most of the time.

  “I can’t manage a full dinner today. I’m going for bread and jam. How about you?” Erin asked Jeremy. “You can choose what you want. There are frozen dinners in the fridge, or some leftovers from the bakery today. And we still have a few jars of Jam Lady jam.”

  “Can I have a dinner and bread and jam?”

  Vic laughed. “That’s my brother.”

  Vic and Jeremy mostly discussed their family and childhood over dinner. Erin listened in, appreciating a new window into her friend’s former life. Vic normally didn’t talk much about her family, and when she did, it was in relation to their estrangement and how they did not accept her transition. It was nice to hear more about the good times she’d had with her brothers, the fond memories of Mom’s home cooking, and helping Pa with the running of the farm.