The Pickled Piper (22 page)

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Authors: Mary Ellen Hughes

BOOK: The Pickled Piper
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“Did Dennis move Alan's body into my pickle barrel?” Piper asked.

“He did, though I didn't know that right away. That was his surprise for me to find out on my own.” She grimaced. “He thought it was a great joke. Remember that ‘pickled pink' comment of his? Alan always treated him like scum, and Dennis hated him. He might have wanted to kill him, but he didn't have to. I took care of that. Dennis simply added his own touch of revenge.”

“And you pulled Dennis off that roof?” Nate, who'd stayed quiet up until then, spoke up.

“He wanted so much money! I could see it was never going to end. I'd be living in fear as I worked my fingers to the bone to pay him off. When I saw my chance to end that, I knew I had to take it. I didn't try to pin it on you, Nate. Charlotte Hosch did that.” Tina's lips twisted with disgust. “I wish I could have pinned it on Charlotte. But not you, Nate.” She looked pleadingly at him. “It was driving me crazy to think that you might go to prison for what I'd done.”

“But you were willing to send me to prison for Brenda's murder?” Piper asked.

Tina slapped down her towel. “You wouldn't stop digging! No matter what I tried to do to throw you off or to make you think it wasn't worth it, you kept on poking around!”

“Paint on my storefront or damage to my car wasn't anywhere near as important as clearing Nate's name. But you were willing to burn my place down—and me with it—to save yourself?”

“Don't you dare judge me! Do you think you wouldn't have done the same if you were in my shoes?”

Piper highly doubted that but kept silent. The sheriff, though, had heard enough. He stepped forward.

“Miss Carson, I'm arresting you for the murder of—”

“No!” Tina suddenly grabbed a huge knife from the nearby butcher block. “No, you're NOT arresting me!” She held the knife in front of her.

“Now, Miss Carson, there's no need—”

“I'm not going to prison. I've suffered too much already! Alan deserved exactly what he got. Dennis was as bad as Alan, and when I got rid of him I did the world a favor. You're not going to put me in prison for that. Nobody is!” She waved her knife menacingly.

The sheriff had eased himself in front of Piper. “Just calm down, now, Miss Carson. We can talk about this—”

“I'm done talking! Alan could disappear for nineteen years. I'll do it, too!” Tina stepped out from behind her counter holding the large knife in front of her with both hands. “All of you, move back there.” Tina jerked her head toward her storeroom.

Did Tina really believe she could simply lock them up and make an escape? It was insane, Piper thought. But then hadn't Tina been acting irrationally for days? Unfortunately, Piper had kept making allowances, putting it down to stress and lack of sleep.

The sheriff obviously saw he was dealing with madness as he kept his voice even and calm. “No one wants to hurt you, Miss Carson.”

“Just move!” Tina swished her knife—which looked dangerously sharp—through the air. “Or else!” She took a step forward.

The sheriff pushed Piper back hard before grabbing a chrome-legged chair. He held it out in front of him. “Miss Carson, put that knife down now!”

“No!” Tina screeched. She reached back with one hand for a glass carafe, half full of hot coffee, and flung it at the sheriff. It didn't have far to go and her aim was spot-on, catching the sheriff full in the face and stunning him, causing him to drop the chair. Tina took that instant to lunge at him with her knife. Before she could stab him, Nate threw himself at her. Tina turned and slashed.

Piper saw blood burst from Nate's arm. She grabbed the closest thing at hand—a chrome napkin dispenser—and threw it at Tina, striking her head hard. Tina faltered, and the sheriff, back in the game, kicked at Tina's legs, sweeping them out from under her. The knife flew from her hands as she fell and Piper ran to stomp on it. The sheriff had Tina's hands behind her in an instant and locked in handcuffs.

As he held her down and radioed for help, Tina wailed and thrashed, finally sobbing uncontrollably. Piper spared her little sympathy as she stepped widely around the two to get to Nate with a clean towel. He had staggered back against a wall and slid down, his face pale as blood flowed between the fingers he held against his wound. Piper pushed his hand off and wrapped the towel around his arm. As she pressed down firmly, he smiled weakly.

“Thanks.”

Piper nodded but glanced toward the sheriff. “Actually, I think you're the one who deserves to be thanked.”

32

P
iper spotted Will from the picnic table where she sat with Nate, Amy, and Megan and waved him over. He'd been flipping burgers for the crowd and finally took a break to load up his own plate from the huge spread of potluck dishes being overseen by Aunt Judy and her friends. The gathering had been planned originally as a modestly sized celebration of Nate's release from the hospital but had rapidly grown to include most of Cloverdale and was moved out of necessity from Amy's backyard to the large park just off the town square.

Nate sat at the head of the rectangular table in a well-cushioned lawn chair that Uncle Frank had brought specially for him. His left arm rested in a sling on a small pillow. As Will stepped over the picnic table bench to join the group, he asked, “How's the arm doing?”

“Pretty well. Doc said I'll be playing guitar again before too long.”

“And thank goodness for that,” Amy said, taking the glass of lemonade from his right hand and setting it on the table for him. Piper suspected she would have happily spooned bites of food into Nate's mouth if he'd allowed it.

“Hey, Nate! Welcome back!” two people called out on their way to the food tables.

“Everyone's been great,” Nate said, after acknowledging the pair. He looked bewildered by the attention that had started when he'd first arrived and been fairly mobbed by townspeople patting him on the back and wishing him well. “But they're acting as if I were some kind of hero, which I'm not.”

“My father would have been stabbed—who knows how badly—if it weren't for you,” Amy said. “He told me so himself.”

“That crazy woman,” Megan said, shaking her head as she scraped up the final crumbs of her cherry cheesecake. “But the scary thing is that nobody spotted that about her until you figured it out, Piper.”

“I kick myself for not recognizing it sooner and for letting myself be too distracted by the others on our ‘possibles' list.”

“But Gordon and Lyella Pfiefle seemed so likely!” Amy protested, then looked around and lowered her voice. “Remember those scratches on his neck the day after Alan Rosemont's murder?”

Piper smiled to herself. Aunt Judy had whispered an explanation for that after Piper had confided her earlier suspicions of the couple. But Piper wasn't about to pass it on.

“Lyella and Gordon are said to have a very . . .” Aunt Judy had paused, searching for a delicate way to put it. “. . . an extremely loving and active married life.” She'd looked at Piper meaningfully. “I got this on good authority from Millie Tildenbocker. She lived next door to them in the apartment they rented before they bought their house, and the apartments apparently had very thin walls. Poor Millie Tildenbocker took to wearing earplugs in order to sleep.”

Which might also explain why Gordon had rushed home with the cover excuse of fixing a flat tire for Lyella the afternoon that Dennis Isley was killed. Lyella had demonstrated to Piper very clearly that she held her husband in high regard and brooked no improper interest from other women. But murder, it appeared, was never considered as a deterrent.

“And then Robby Taylor,” Megan pointed out. “He seemed to need a lot of money in such a hurry, pushing his mother to sell her house. We were sure he'd been paying blackmail to Dennis.”

“Well, it turns out there were other, legitimate reasons for Robby needing money in a hurry,” Piper said. “It will all come out soon anyway, so I can tell you what Dorothy Taylor explained just yesterday to Aunt Judy and me. It seems Robby has behaved fairly unprofessionally by having relationships with female clients at the gym and now finds himself in the middle of two separate paternity suits.”

Megan gasped and Will's eyebrows shot up, but Amy and Nate looked amused, possibly remembering the story that Piper had shared with them of Dorothy Taylor's father and the woman who'd shown up on her doorstep. They might have been thinking, as Piper did, that Robby had much more in common with his grandfather than an interest in astronomy.

Megan looked on the verge of a comment when Erin walked up. Erin had left the table earlier with the explanation that there was someone she wanted to speak to.

“Megan,” she asked, “didn't you say Ben was going to be here?”

Megan rolled her eyes at mention of her brother. “Oh, some bigwig in his insurance company is making a surprise visit to his office. Ben was beside himself all morning getting ready for it.”

“Insurance company?” Nate asked. “Which insurance company is that?”

Megan looked at Nate with surprise. “USIA. Why?”

Nate suddenly looked highly uncomfortable, and Piper somehow didn't think it had anything to do with his injury. “You don't happen to know the name of this bigwig, do you?” he asked.

Megan stared at Nate, a strange expression crossing her face. “Now that you mention it, it was Purdy, the same as yours. Randall Purdy. I thought at the time what a funny coincidence, but I'm thinking now that maybe it's not a coincidence. Do you know him, Nate?”

Nate squirmed in his chair and looked over his shoulder before he answered. “Yeah, kind of.” He looked at Amy apologetically. “He's my father, and also the CEO of USIA.”

“What!” Amy cried along with most of those at the table. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“That I had a father? I thought—”

“That your father is the CEO of Ben's insurance company!”

Nate winced. “We're not exactly on speaking terms.”

“Why don't we let you two talk about this,” Piper suggested, half rising. Will was barely a split second behind her. Megan, however, looked glued to her chair.

“No,” Nate said, waving them down with his good hand. “It's okay. I owe you all the explanation, though it's probably pretty boring.”

Piper doubted that, but sat down quietly and waited.

“Dad,” Nate started, “can be pretty bullheaded. I probably take after him to some degree, though I went along with a lot of what he wanted as I was growing up—just because I was a kid, I suppose, and, well, he turned out to be right most of the time.

“But one thing he was definitely wrong on was what to do with my life after school. Dad made a pretty good living in the insurance business, and he thought I should do the same. I tried it for a while, just to be fair, I guess, but I could see it wasn't for me. I loved my music, but Dad always pooh-poohed music as something you do only in your spare time—if you had spare time. That was always frustrating, that he couldn't see how important it was to me. But, as I said, I tried to see things his way, even though as time went on I hated the insurance business more and more.”

Amy's eyes suddenly lit up. “Was that what you meant when you said you knew of a way to search out Robby Taylor's credit rating?”

“Uh, yeah. We're not supposed to let that get around, but there are ways of finding those things out if we want.”

“Oh, I'm so glad. I was worried it might have been something worse! Though not
really
worried,” she amended.

“Well, anyway,” Nate went on, “the final straw came when Dad began pushing me hard to start seeing the daughter of one of his big-deal insurance buddies. I mean, browbeating me into a career he wanted was bad enough, but to call the shots on my love life? I mean, first of all this girl came on all sweetness and light to Dad and her own father, but believe me, she was a Leona Helmsley in the making. When Dad couldn't see that, I packed up and told him I was out of there.”

Piper saw that that last boundary cross had won over Amy's approval of Nate's action. Megan and Erin looked pretty sympathetic, too.

Erin suddenly piped up. “Oh, there's Ben! And there's a man in a suit with him. Is that your father, Nate?”

Nate jerked around to see, then swiveled in several directions as though deciding which way to run first. But Randall Purdy, since that's who Piper figured it was, caught sight of his son, and Nate froze as the two locked eyes. Nobody at the table spoke until Amy patted Nate on his good arm.

“Go to him, Nate,” she said.

Nate turned to her, then nodded, launching himself out of his chair and heading over to his father. Piper watched as Randall Purdy met Nate halfway, hesitated, then enveloped his son in a great bear hug, a hug that Nate returned as best he could with one usable arm.

“Oooh,” Megan and Erin said simultaneously, and Piper saw Amy's eyes blink rapidly. Piper felt Will's hand cover hers, and she turned to smile, blinking once or twice herself.

Nate and his father obviously had a lot of catching up to do, though standing in the middle of a gathering of most of Cloverdale wasn't the best place to do it. Nate made a start, though, by bringing his father over to the table to meet his friends.

“This is Amy,” he said, beginning with her. “A very special person in my life.”

Amy stood to shake hands, but Randall Purdy, showing a strong, outgoing personality that went with his tall, barrel-chested frame, would have none of it, giving her an enthusiastic hug instead. “I'm very happy to meet you, young lady,” he said as Nate beamed beside him.

Nate introduced the others, ending with Piper. “You might have found me in very different circumstances—like, maybe in jail—if it weren't for Piper,” he said.

Randall Purdy nodded. “I got the gist of the story from Ben Schaeffer on the way over here. I owe you a debt of gratitude, Miss Lamb.”

“It was a team effort,” Piper said. “And we were all happy to do it. You have a great son, Mr. Purdy.”

Purdy put his arm around Nate's shoulders, careful to avoid pressing the bandaged arm, and said, “That I do, ma'am,” his voice suddenly husky.

With that, Will popped up. “Have a seat, here, sir. Piper and I will get you something to eat.”

Piper rose quickly, signaling Megan and Erin with a look to do the same, then left Nate to begin his long-overdue talk with his father. As they headed toward the food tables, Piper spotted Ben Schaeffer talking rapidly to Sheriff Carlyle, who was glancing in Nate's direction, eyebrows raised. She thought the sheriff might be fairly pleased to hear what Ben was telling him and expected to see him make his way over to the table where his daughter still sat before too long.

Will started loading up a plate for Randall Purdy, and Piper filled a tall paper cup with iced tea, having no idea what the man's preferences were but figuring what he ate or drank were the least of his concerns at the moment.

“Let me take them over,” Erin offered, taking the plate and cup from Will and Piper. They watched as she carried them to the table and slipped both in front of Mr. Purdy as unobtrusively as a butterfly lighting on a leaf. She then turned to her left, where Ben now stood by himself looking just a bit lost, and walked in his direction with a warm smile.

Good for her, Piper thought, and said to Will, “I think Ben just might have a chance at getting over Amy before too long.”

Will replied, “Huh?” and Piper simply smiled.

She and Will strolled off, greeting others and pausing to chat here and there, and Piper enjoyed the calm contentment that gradually settled on her. Cloverdale had given her a few stressful moments—okay, a lot of stressful moments—but things had definitely taken a turn for the better. There was healing to do, but Piper felt that all in all, coming to Cloverdale and opening Piper's Picklings had been a good decision. Walking along with her hand in Will's added greatly to that feeling until Will suddenly released hers.

“Jim Reilly is waving me over. Probably something to do with the grill. I'll just be a minute.”

Piper nodded, and as she watched him go off, her cell phone rang.
Who in the world would be calling her when everyone in town is right here?
she wondered. But as she reached into her pocket she had an uneasy thought, which a glance at the display proved right.

“Yes, Scott?”

“Hey, Piper! Glad I caught you. How's it going?”

“Fine, Scott. What's up?”

“Good news! I'm coming home.”

“Ah! Well, that's nice to know, Scott,” Piper hedged. “You mean you're heading back to Albany?”

“Oh, I'll probably get over there, eventually. But first I want to see you! I'll be back in the States by Monday, and I'm heading straight for Cloverdale!”

Piper knew her mouth had dropped open because she suddenly had to spit out a gnat. Scott was coming to Cloverdale? And he expected she'd be waiting for him with open arms?

“Didn't you get my e-mail? I thought I explained everything very clearly. We're not a couple anymore.”

“Oh, sure, I know I haven't been the greatest fiancé. But travel has been so great for me, Piper. I've learned to appreciate the simpler things in life. Which is why I'm also thinking I might settle in Cloverdale myself. Nothing definite, you understand, but it sounds like the perfect place for the person I've become. Just you wait till I get there. We'll have so much—” The connection began breaking up. Piper heard one or two more words before it was lost altogether. She looked at her phone, then turned it off and stood staring blankly into space.

Scott coming to Cloverdale? Maybe settling in Cloverdale?

“Piper, you look like you just bit into a sour pickle,” Mrs. Peterson teased as she walked by.

A sour pickle? Piper shook her head, disagreeing. Nothing about pickles ever made her feel this disturbed. Pickles were wonderful, dependable, predictable. What Piper really felt was that this sudden change in her
It's a Wonderful Life
picture was as unsettling as discovering a bug in the middle of a jelly jar.

But she reminded herself that Scott was free to live anywhere he chose. If he picked Cloverdale, she would deal with it. Life, after all, was all about adjusting, wasn't it? If you lived in the mountains, you boiled your canning jars a bit longer. If you suddenly had more pounds of tomatoes than anyone could possibly eat, you made catsup. And if a man you were once in love with came to town and started knocking on your door while your new boyfriend was calling on the phone, you—Piper stopped to think. You did what? Then she grinned.

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