Maple Mayhem (A Sugar Grove Mystery) (5 page)

“Maybe I could reserve a table for us right near the front, by the ball cage. Nothing goes better with bingo than your best girl.”

“I’d do that if I were you, Knowlton. I’d even put a couple of votive candles and a vase of silk flowers on the table for a little ambience.” This time her wink was directed at me but I could still feel my sandwich turning to chalk in my mouth at the thought of everyone in town seeing me seated front and center with Knowlton. I never wanted to hurt his feelings; I just didn’t want to marry him and nothing but a yes was what he was willing to hear from at least one of us Greene girls.

As a matter of fact, I would be willing to bet my favorite kidney his dream world included a harem containing both of us. I was imagining Celadon and myself in those floaty, floppy pants and midriff-baring tops when Knowlton helped himself to one of my fries. I am reasonable to a fault but I cannot abide fry snatchers. Especially ones I don’t like under the best of circumstances.

“Since you use your fingers to stuff dead creatures you had better keep them out of my plate. Grab another fry and I’ll cut one of them off.” I wrapped my arm around my plate like a prisoner on a chain gang with short rations. Piper ran to the kitchen and returned with a new plate of steaming hot fries to go with my sandwich.

“That’s one of the many things I love about you, your feisty attitude.” Knowlton leaned even closer and nudged me with his elbow, digging right into my ribs.

“Can I get a box for this, Piper? Suddenly I have a hankering to get back home.” Piper nodded and reached for a compostable takeaway box from under the counter.

“You never said if you’d be at meat bingo.”

“I’ll think about it. If I’m not too busy getting engaged to Sugar Grove’s most eligible bachelor.”

“You know I love you, too, don’t you?” Piper fluttered her eyelashes at me and it was impossible to stay mad. She looked just like a doll when she did that. Except for the tattoos and the blue mascara.

Celadon was in the kitchen, her arms elbows deep in dishwater, a look on her face fierce enough to stop a zombie in its tracks. The phone was clamped between her ear and her shoulder and the person on the other end must have been saying something Celadon didn’t wish to hear. I wished I had listened to the little voice in my own ear that told me to use the side door instead of the more frequently used back one. That voice knows all and every time I don’t listen, I regret it. This was one of those times.

Celadon and I are pretty typical sisters. That is to say, we love each other but frequently disagree about how to live life or how to make a meatloaf or even what constitutes appropriate clothing to wear outside of the home. Tangling with Celadon after being chewed out by Frank was not my idea of time well spent. I tried sneaking past but she lifted a soapy hand out of the sink and waggled it at me, scattering wrath and bubbles every which way.

Stopping and waiting for her to disconnect was far easier than dealing with her after she had tracked me down. She was always better at hide-and-seek despite my borderline freakishly small size.

“That was Mindy Collins. She was calling to say she wants Hunter to arrive for the camping trip a day earlier than previously planned. She and Luke need his help with some of the preparations before the rest of the squad arrives tomorrow.”

“Why?”

“Some sort of emergency.”

“Do squirrels have emergencies?”

“They do according to Mindy.” Celadon clucked her tongue at her own mess and shot me a look like I was the one responsible for making it. “I need you to run Hunter over to her house. He’s already packed so it is not a problem.”

“But I’m already going to be late getting to meat bingo.”

“I’ve got four pies in the oven and two cakes crumb-coated in the fridge needing a second layer of frosting. Those are all for meat bingo, too. I don’t have time to even argue about this with you, let alone run him all the way to Mindy’s and then down into town. You are going to have to take him.”

“Where is everyone else?”

“Loden and Grandma have been busy all afternoon with Mitch. For some reason he seems to be looking for you. Grampa is out double-checking the meat inventory. That leaves you. You’d best get on with it or you’ll end up standing Graham up.”

“What do you mean?” Graham Paterson was the conservation officer I’d started seeing around Thanksgiving, when he had been based in Sugar Grove while rounding up a bunch of exotic animals someone was foolish enough to let loose. We hadn’t been able to see much of each other lately since one of the other officers had been out with back surgery, and those ice fisherman weren’t going to start policing themselves just to help nudge my love life into the fast lane.

Celadon grilled me daily for updates and was not too pleased with my lack of progress. She had wanted to see an engagement ring on my finger on Christmas Day and had not spoken six words to me until New Year’s when one hadn’t materialized. Her silence had been my favorite present of the holiday season.

“He called looking for you a couple of hours ago. I told him you would be at meat bingo and might have mentioned Knowlton would be there, too.”

“Of course Knowlton will be there. He has a collection of troll dolls and lucky daubers he uses just for meat bingo.” Knowlton is one of those people who wins every time he enters a raffle, plays games involving a spinner, or bingo in any of its forms. “What does it have to do with Graham? And what made you think you should stick your nose into my love life again?”

“You mean your lack of a love life? I am just trying to give it some CPR. Nothing gets a man moving faster than a little competition.”

“Were you trying to make Graham jealous? Did you tell him I was interested in Knowlton? You know that is so utterly false.”

“What I mentioned was your previous relationship.”

“What previous relationship? The one where he chases me and I run away screaming and feeling guilty for hurting his feelings?”

“I saw fit to fill him in on your history of habitual skinny-dipping with Knowlton.”

“Being six years old and dunked naked into the same wading pool by your elders after a long day rolling in the dirt at a family picnic does not constitute skinny-dipping. At least not in any sort of a truthful way.”

“Truthfulness is not going to help the situation with Graham move on to the next level.” Celadon yanked the plug from the sink and scowled at the water sucking down the drain.

“You are altogether too involved in my personal life.”

“Because you aren’t involved enough.” Celadon glanced up at the kitchen clock. “You need to get going if you plan on having time to change out of your work clothes and into something that looks like you are going on a date.” Half of me wanted to bolt up the stairs and the other half wanted to drag my size-five feet. Dates were not my specialty and dressing for them certainly wasn’t my strong suit.

When you are small enough to be mistaken for a fourth grader most of the time, dressing to attract adult men gets tricky. I’m twenty-seven years old and I still buy most of my clothing in the JC Penney children’s department. It’s not all bad. They have some really great deals in the clearance section. But it can be difficult to find something slightly sexy and definitely sophisticated in among the printed corduroys and sweaters with cartoon characters knitted into the pattern.

By the time I reached my bedroom I had settled on a pair of black trousers my mother had hemmed up by five inches for me and a black mohair sweater. At least I would be warm. The opera house was notoriously cold and meat bingo wasn’t exactly a contact sport. At least not since Coleman Price moved on to that big bingo hall in the sky three winters ago.

I swiped a brush through my shoulder-length hair and slipped my favorite earrings into my lobes. A dab of lip gloss and I was about as ready as I was going to be. I wasn’t too worried. Graham had seen me in a whole lot worse and no one in town would be dressing up too much for bingo. Or anything else for that matter. It’s hard to find formal wear that goes well with snow boots.

I called out for Hunter and we hit the road. Even though I felt rushed, it was always a treat to go anywhere with Hunter. He’s a great conversationalist and he thinks my jokes are funny. A lot of times people think we’re siblings, considering how alike we look with our sandy hair and blue eyes, not to mention our height. Hunter may be only eight years old, but he’s just a little less than a head shorter than me.

The plow had been by earlier in the day, winging back the snowbanks. Seeing over the steering wheel is a challenge for me. Double-high snowbanks were more than I could manage. Taking our lives in my hands, I was secure in the knowledge that if I got the both of us killed, Celadon would make it her business to scrawl ugly things in permanent marker on my headstone every Memorial Day.

*   *   *

No one was on the road and we reached Mindy’s house without incident, covering the six miles in just under half an hour. On the way over I reminded myself that the right thing to do would be to ask Mindy if her family had experienced any vandalism. I really didn’t want to. If you started talking to Mindy, it was a guarantee that you would be trapped for at least an hour. You just couldn’t get away. And time was tight enough as it was without that. Besides, I told myself, if neither Tansey nor Kenneth had had any problems I couldn’t imagine why Mindy would have. She was only just starting out in the business and had basically nothing to vandalize.

The walkway to the back door was shoveled out only about six inches wide. Even my feet had trouble getting through. If that was the Collins family’s idea of a job well done, I had serious doubts about their ability to run a successful sugaring operation. All that sap doesn’t just hop out of the trees and into jugs with price tags affixed. In response to our knock, Luke, Mindy’s son and Hunter’s best friend, answered the door, a gap-toothed grin spreading across his face. He tugged the door wide to reveal his siblings bouncing on the mismatched couches and spilling drinks on the shag carpeting. Mindy waved at me from the doorway to the kitchen.

“Dani, just the person I wanted to see. Are you still dating that game warden?” Everyone in town asked me the same question when they saw me. The reasons for each were different. Some people wanted to know because they genuinely liked Graham and wanted him to show up at events in town. They thought he provided a fresh face and pleasing personality to the mix. Others, like Tansey Pringle, hoped we weren’t, so I could get back down to the business of letting Knowlton sweep me off my feet and onto a marital bed. Tansey was itching for wedded bliss for her only child so badly I wanted to pour calamine lotion over her head every time I saw her.

But many people asked because they thought my relationship, such as it was, with a conservation officer somehow made me an expert on all things wild and woolly. Or feathered. Or finned. As long as it was outdoors and remained free of domestication, a lot of folks thought the knowledge of its mysteries would have rubbed off on me over a couple of dinners, three movies, and six cups of coffee at the Stack Shack. Not that I was counting. I was betting Mindy was one of those people since she had never shown any interest in my love life before.

“We see each other when we can. As a matter of fact, I’m supposed to catch up with him over at meat bingo just as soon as I am done here.” Maybe she would take the hint that I was trying to lay the groundwork for a speedy exit.

“Great. Could you do me a favor and ask him if he will come with the Squirrel Squad on our camping trip tomorrow? Russ threw his back out and can’t help.” Russ was always laid up in some way or another. I suppose that could have explained the shoddy job with the shoveling. It was also more than likely the reason he was having such a hard time getting a new job nearby. People in Sugar Grove were never too impressed with slackers. Russ had a well-established reputation as someone who wore slip-on shoes because he couldn’t be bothered to work up the necessary effort needed for the kind that tied.

“That’s too bad. Did he wrench it shoveling you out?” Mindy shook her head gently, a wistful look flitting across her face.

“No. He was bent over funny reaching for a beer in the back of the fridge. I came in carrying the groceries and found him slumped there with the fridge still hanging open. He said he’d been like that for a couple of hours. I guess he must have been there a while because he had managed to finish the beer, a half-gallon of milk, and two jars of jam. I had to head back to the store to replenish the supplies. He’s been in bed ever since.”

“Sounds rough. I can ask Graham if he would like to participate but I can’t guarantee he’ll even be available.” I sort of hoped if he had time on his hands to spare, he would be wanting to spend some of it with me instead of a dozen kids but I didn’t think Mindy and I were likely to share that wish.

“I would have thought you would have some ways of coercing him into doing whatever you asked.” Mindy leaned in and winked at me. “That’s how I get so much done around here.” Mindy waved her plump arm like a game-show hostess pointing out the prizes. I looked around the room, at the walls with the paper half stripped, the bare bulbs hanging from the ceiling, and the television cabinet still in pieces next to a cardboard box and set of instructions.

I wondered if she was joking but I had never noticed humor being one of the senses Mindy possessed. From the look of things no one was going to be asking Mindy to write an updated version of
The Joy of Sex
. And I was a little shocked to hear such a thing from the church organist. I thought about tattling on her to Pastor Gifford just to try to get her to stop playing the organ. But I thought better of it. My grandmother always said while we knew the streets in heaven were paved with gold, no one knew if the street signs said things like Tattlers Row and what a shame it would be to have an address like that for all eternity.

“I’m not sure our relationship is at that point.”

“Well then just do your best. I’m sure you’ll think of something to convince him. If you’re shy or need a few tips, just call the house. Either Russ or I could help you out.” I couldn’t imagine a world in which I asked a married man for advice about the sorts of things she was implying. My brain fogged over and my mouth flapped open and shut like a fish on a dock. Mindy misinterpreted my response. “Oh now don’t get yourself all worked up being grateful; we’d be happy to help.” She patted my arm and I felt contaminated, like I might have contracted moral leprosy. I heard myself promising to ask Graham to chaperone the kids just to change the subject and to make my escape.