Eat, Drink and Be Wary Page 12

  Sherry watched Addison enter the corn maze. The dried stalks were at least seven feet tall, she estimated, and he was soon swallowed up and out of sight. He called for Sherry and Ginger to take the other pathway so as to corner the child from both directions.

  “Follow me,” Ginger prompted. “Addison designed the maze. I should’ve paid more attention to the process. Right now, I’m regretting I didn’t.”

  The two ladies were no more than ten steps inside the maze before their first directional option was presented.

  “Dead end to the left.” Ginger peered around a cornstalk wall. She motioned Sherry forward. “Try and keep up.” She trotted the other way.

  With the exception of the wood chips crunching under foot, the maze was eerily quiet. The deeper the women found themselves inside the maze, the quieter their surroundings became.

  “Is it my imagination or are the pathways getting narrower with every turn we make? Addison’s a smart designer, if you like this sort of thing. Me? Not so much,” Sherry commented.

  “It’s normally an exciting experience when it’s packed with visitors. Kind of creepy when it’s just you and me.”

  “Really claustrophobic.” Sherry’s heart was beating faster than she’d like, and her palms were beginning to perspire. “How will we know if Addison found the little girl before we get too deep inside?”

  “Good question. There’s no cell service back here, so we can’t even text. That’s what made this location extra attractive. Once inside the maze, it’s impossible to cheat by calling someone to guide you out.”

  “Addison? Can you hear us?” Sherry’s voice broke, despite her attempt to stay calm. Sherry extended her arms and touched both sides of the cornstalk corridor. The space was definitely getting tighter the farther in they navigated. “Didn’t we just pass this way?”

  Sherry blinked to get a clearer look at the pattern in front of them. Nothing but dried golden cornstalks in front, to the side, and behind them. The thick dusty air made catching her breath a chore. The stalk’s height, and the narrowness of the passageways, pinched out most of the sky overhead. The shadows darkened the pathway. Sherry stopped to collect her bearings, and heard a series of distant crunches behind her. When she turned to ask Ginger if she heard the noises, she was alone.

  “Ginger?” Sherry spoke barely above a whisper. No reply. She sucked in a deep breath and bellowed the woman’s name in a voice she hadn’t heard herself produce since the time Chutney took off after a squirrel, ending up on a street with a car heading straight for the unaware dog. “Ginger!”

  Sherry advanced on uncooperative legs. A split second later, the cornstalk wall behind her crashed down and smothered the spot where she had previously been standing. A blanket of particles from the crushed stalk fibers rose up in Sherry’s face. She struggled to clear the air with frantic hand waving.

  “Sherry? Are you in there?” Addison’s voice pierced the collapsed wall that lay in a haphazard pile separating them. “Stay put. I’ll get you out.”

  Chapter 15

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Ginger asked. “That scrape on your arm might have some splinters in it from the stalks.”

  “I’ll check it out when I get back home. I’m just glad the little girl made it out safely.”

  Ginger and Addison held a stare between themselves.

  Ginger broke the silence. “Turns out she was never in the maze. She had wandered away from her stroller when her mom wasn’t paying close attention. She was found on the swinging bench on the veranda having a merry old time with Uri.”

  Sherry’s mouth dropped open. “I would still do it all over again, if I thought she was in there.” She inspected her scraped arm. “How in the world did that wall collapse inside the maze? The cornstalks are so rigid, I can’t imagine they’d go down without a fight.”

  “Agreed,” Addison said. “I can’t let customers in until we figure that out. You’re just lucky you were out of the way, because they came down with a force. As if they were rammed down from the other side, judging by the damage to them.”

  “No good deed goes unpunished.” Ginger forced a crooked smile. “I need to get inside. It’s checkout day for eighty percent of my guests, unfortunately. Thanks for meeting with me, and I’ll be in touch.” Before Sherry could begin her response, Ginger had turned tail and was halfway to the inn.

  “I better get to repairing our moneymaker.” Addison frowned. “Glad you’re okay.”

  Sherry acknowledged Addison with a nod and made her way to her car. As she passed the front entrance, she caught a glimpse of Vilma, Uri, and Roe in a close huddle. A fourth person in the circle, with her back to Sherry, was nodding enthusiastically. Oxana’s jeans and oversized sweatshirt gave her identity away. The group turned their heads in unison toward the inn before dispersing. A moment later, Ginger walked through the inn’s whitewashed doorway with a suitcase in each hand. A young family followed close behind.

  “I guess that’s the appointment Vilma was running late for,” Sherry commented under her breath.

  “Hey, Sherry! Over here.”

  Sherry strained to locate who, out of all the people gathered in front of the inn, had called her name. She couldn’t make out any familiar faces.

  “Sherry!”

  A waving hand caught Sherry’s eye. “Here I come!” she called.

  Half the guests milling around the front entrance turned to see who was on the way over. When Sherry reached Don and Day, she fussed with her hair and found a cornhusk shred. She straightened her shirtsleeve, which was partially torn from the maze mishap. She wished she’d had a chance to glance in a mirror to check for more cornstalk debris. She gave up after a third swipe through her hair produced more remnants of the corn maze.

  Don greeted Sherry with a welcoming grin. “Such a fun time last night at the Taproom. Although, did I hear something about your car getting sideswiped in the parking lot? That really stinks.”

  “That lady over there told us about the mishap this morning at breakfast.” Day pointed to Vilma, who was walking out of the inn.

  “Vilma. She says a lot of things.” Before Sherry could turn her gaze away from Vilma, the woman tossed a look Sherry’s way. “But it’s true. My poor car needs to go to the body shop for repair.”

  The brother-sister duo gave Sherry the once-over.

  “Looks like you were doing some yard work,” Day commented. “Or possibly had a wrestling match with a bale of hay?”

  “The bale of hay won,” Sherry said. “What are your plans today?”

  “We’re heading home tomorrow. Today we thought of taking a hike along the Silty Pretzel River. The Hillsboro State Park seems like a good send-off point. That’s where we’re headed.” Day peered from Don to Sherry. “If you don’t have any dinner plans, want to meet up? Maybe your friend Amber would like to join, too.”

  “I like that plan. Text me later when you’ve chosen a spot. Have fun today.” As Sherry turned to leave, another husk shred fell from her hair. She swatted the dry brown debris away.

  * * *

  Back home in her living room, Sherry set her phone on speaker, leaving her hands free to stroke her dog. She positioned the phone on a throw pillow. “Thanks for returning my phone call, Patti. I wanted to talk about Vilma Pitney.”

  Patti’s groan brought a slight grin to Sherry’s face.

  “Vilma says she wants to work together to find the killer, but I have a sneaking suspicion she’s more interested in sending me off in the wrong direction. I feel like I’m still in that corn maze wandering round and round. Who am I chasing? Not sure at this point. Who’s chasing me? Also, not sure.”

  Sherry and Chutney watched her neighbor Eileen’s leash lesson with her new cat, Elvis Purrsley. Chutney’s rear legs and backside were on her lap, front legs propped up on the window ledge for prime viewing. Outside, the young American shorthair cat was tolerating the harness he was wedged into. Even from Sherry’s distant vantage point across the street
, she could see the potential of retaliation for the humiliation brewing behind the cat’s eyes.

  “I wouldn’t trust that woman as far as I could throw her,” Patti said. “Vilma has barged her way into the cook-off-coverage world without any credibility whatsoever. From what I see, she’s cozied up to one of the sponsors and somehow has been granted access rights to interviews no one else is able to get.”

  “I may regret these words, but, at the moment, I believe she’s harmless.”

  “As harmless as a bite of a habanero chili pepper,” Patti huffed.

  Outside the window, the cat was trying hard to wriggle free from Eileen’s guidance. The more the woman tugged in an effort to steer the cat up her driveway, the limper the cat’s body appeared. It was like she was dragging a boneless pelt. “I don’t think cats were meant to walk on leashes.”

  “I once saw a leashed cat claw its owner’s ankles every time they came to a stop. Finally, the owner just picked the cat up, which, obviously, was the feline’s plan all along,” Patti chuckled.

  “So smart. I’ll mention your story to my persistent neighbor. Back to Vilma. The reason I called was to ask you exactly that. What would you say are Vilma’s intentions with the information she’s gathering? It seems she’s writing a book instead of an article. How much information does she need? Every time I turn around, she’s there talking to someone connected to the cook-off, a second, even a third time.”

  “I wish I knew,” Patti replied. “I handed in my article this morning so it would be timely. It’ll be online by the end of the day, along with my review of The Hunger Dames. Old news is just that. No one’s interested. Dragging her heels won’t serve her well. Although, it served that cat well. He got what he was after—a free ride.”

  Sherry smiled to herself. “Since you’ve finished your article for the Nutmeg State of Mind, would you mind crafting a brief cook-off recap for the Augustin newsletter? We can’t pay you much, but there’s value in having the byline, right?”

  “Of course. Anything for my favorite competitive cook. Do me one favor, though.”

  “If it’s legal,” Sherry joked.

  “Be careful of Vilma. She’s up to something. I just can’t put my finger on it, but I will.”

  “She’s harmless, just aggressive, but I’ll do as you suggest.”

  “Anything new on Fitz’s murder?” Patti asked. “Got anyone in your crosshairs?”

  Sherry giggled as she watched Eileen pick up her cat. Elvis had won the battle of wills. Eileen peered across to Sherry’s house. She waved to her onlookers. Chutney perked up and wagged his tail.

  “Not laughing at your question. My neighbor’s so entertaining. She and Elvis make Chutney’s day.” Sherry considered her answers to Patti’s questions. “Not much is new. So far, the two who I keep coming back to are Lyman, the spice guy, and Roe, the fisherman. Oh, and Ginger is hesitantly throwing Uri into the mix. Lyman’s argument with Fitz was so animated, a number of people have come forward to express concern. Lyman said the spat was about spice varieties, but things got really testy. Lyman was shoving papers into Fitz’s hands, and they weren’t well received. Fitz was found dead with papers in his hand. I’m guessing the same papers. How can I find out what those papers were?”

  “And Roe?” Patti asked. “Why him? You know, I inter viewed him for my article, because he was touted by the president of Maine Course Foods as being the fish expert. I have to say, I was underwhelmed by his depth of knowledge. Did you know the company almost pulled out of the contest that night because Uri thought Roe was mistreated by the organizers?”

  “I had no idea things got that out of whack. Roe is swirling in my brain because both Pep and Addison feel he’s a fake. Addison’s the real fishing expert. Why would Uri give someone who’s not qualified such a showcase position in his company? What was Roe and Fitz’s argument about?”

  “Hard to say. No obvious motive for murder there, though.” Patti paused. “Unless Roe’s a hired hit man. I’m half kidding and half serious.”

  While Sherry considered Patti’s suggestion, she used the lull in the conversation to focus on Eileen’s final steps before entering her house. The woman put her cat down on her porch landing. Elvis scooted up to the door, trailing the leash behind him.

  “Did Fitz know something about Roe? Did Roe know he knew whatever he knew?” Patti asked.

  “Sounds like I need to find out the connection between Fitz, Roe, and Uri. Add Lyman in there, too. And the papers. Plus, there’s one small detail I’ve been putting on the back burner for two days.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Pep’s been disappearing for hours on end. I’m getting the sneaking suspicion he’s going over to the inn and meeting up with this young lady, Oxana. I don’t have any more proof other than seeing her name come up on his phone. Wouldn’t be an issue, except for the fact she was the person who found Fitz’s body. I’m certainly not going to ask Vilma Pitney if she knows anything about them getting together.”

  “Why would you ask Vilma?” Patti asked.

  “Vilma is helping Oxana improve her English. I just hope that, if Vilma does know something, she comes to me and not anyone else. I don’t want Pep’s name connected with multiple visits to the inn, especially right now.”

  “That makes sense.” Patti paused. “Even if he made them.”

  “You’ve given me an idea. I need to go. Oh, and would you mind emailing me that cook-off recap in the next twenty-four hours?” Sherry bit her lip. “I forgot to mention the deadline.”

  Patti huffed. “Wow, I better get to work. Last thing before you go. That Lyman fellow with Spice Attitude. You had some concerns about him and what went down at the contestant party, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “He gave me his business card.”

  “He handed me one, also. I put it with Fitz’s card and later found them in my car.”

  “Well, I called the number listed and was told he’s given his two-week notice. The person who answered said he wasn’t expected to return to the office, except to pick up his things. Not only that, I learned he was only a part-time employee. I was given the name of a full-time rep who could answer my spice questions.”

  “That’s very interesting.” Sherry thought for a moment. “Did you, by any chance, ask what he might be up to after he leaves Spice Attitude?”

  “The woman I spoke with wasn’t excited to engage in a conversation. She couldn’t get me off the phone fast enough.”

  “Maybe I’ll pay him a visit at the Augustin Motor Lodge.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “No, you’re right. That doesn’t seem safe. He said he was sticking around a few days for business. I need to think about how to get a hold of him. You said the number on the card isn’t his direct line?”

  “Doesn’t seem to be. Sherry, be careful.”

  “It’s usually Detective Bease cautioning me. We’ll talk later. Thanks in advance for the recap.”

  Sherry ended the call with the push of a button. Sherry took a last look out the window. Eileen wasn’t outside anymore. A few cardinals and blue jays were perusing the lawn, keeping Chutney entertained for the time being. Sherry went to the kitchen, where she found her purse. She collected Lyman’s business card from the side pocket. She returned to the couch and nestled in with Chutney.

  “Yes, hello. May I speak with Lyman St. Pierre, please.” Sherry was greeted with a sharp exhale.

  “He cannot be reached at this number anymore.”

  “He left his business card with me. I saw him this past week, and, after our meeting, he left behind what looks like a very important item. By the time I discovered it, he was long gone. Do you have a forwarding number I could contact him at?”

  “Sure. He was a nice guy. I’ll do him this favor. We’re told not to provide that information, but if you think it’s important, I’ll take you at your word. I once left my wallet and cell phone in a taxi, and, two weeks later, a Good
Samaritan went above and beyond and found me. Contacted me through our local police department. Not a dollar was missing! Pay it forward, I say.”

  “Thank you so much. I’m sure he’ll be very appreciative.”

  When Sherry ended her call with the woman, she dialed the number she was provided.

  “You have reached Lyman. Please leave a brief message.”

  Disappointed, but undeterred, Sherry left her name and number, only to get a callback within two minutes.

  “Hi, Ms. Oliveri. What a surprise to hear from you. I don’t remember leaving you this phone number.” Lyman’s tone was cautious.

  “It took some work, but I tracked you down,” Sherry said, with a light-hearted voice. “I’m interested in some spices, and since you said you would be in town for a few days, I wondered if I could pick some up from you.”

  The length of silence that followed Sherry’s question left her checking her phone for a lost connection.

  “I don’t work for Spice Attitude any longer, with the exception of filling a few last orders placed before I gave notice. It was only a part-time job, and I decided to move on. But, the number on the business card is valid. You could place an order with whoever answers the phone.”

  “I’ll do that. Thanks anyway. Good luck in your next endeavor. Hope it’s something exciting.” She disconnected the call. Sherry sighed and ruffled Chutney’s neck fur. “What next?”

  And then it came to her.

  Oxana.

  Chapter 16

  “I hope Oxana’s still at the inn. I bet she puts in extra hours on Sundays.” Sherry parked her car on the edge of the inn’s lot closest to the red barn. She lowered all the windows a few inches to let the cool breezes keep Chutney comfortable while he waited for Sherry’s return. “Be back soon,” she told Chutney, after unstrapping his safety harness.

  As Sherry skirted the lot, a familiar car was pulling out of the far corner. Sherry lifted her sunglasses to confirm it was Pep’s car. He had a memorable sequence of numbers, 911, after the three letters on his car’s license plates. The sun’s glaring rays reflected off the metal, obscuring the last number, but the first two were definitely a 9 and a 1. Close enough.