Buzz Off - By Hannah Reed Page 0,17
awful! “Some kind of wasps killed him, and since we have tons of yellow jackets at this time of year, it’s perfectly obvious they did it. I sort of hoped to have that reinforced, so the entire community wouldn’t go into some kind of panic over my honeybees.”
“You want us to prove exactly what kind of bee was responsible by slicing up the poor man? By sawing off his brain and making a mess of his innards? Grace didn’t want an autopsy. Do you want to upset the poor woman more than she already is?”
I felt all eyes burning into me, waiting for my reply. The cash register was completely silent. “Of course not,” I said, conceding a small win to Johnny Jay, who made disgustingly smug noises with his lips. “But why is everybody having such a hard time distinguishing between bees and wasps?”
No one replied, mainly because they couldn’t tell the difference and they didn’t care.
Just when I thought the day couldn’t get any worse, Lori Spandle, our resident real estate agent, came in wearing a bee veil.
“Oh come on, Lori,” I said. “What in the world are you doing?”
“Protecting myself while I organize a spray committee,” she said. “We’re going to eliminate this immediate threat to our lives before it’s too late. This is a preemptive strike. Anybody here want to help save the town?”
I can read body language pretty well. My customers leaned toward Lori, giving me looks that said I would lose them to the other side if I didn’t think of something quick.
“Bullet point number one, you’d be killing innocent bees,” I told them, in case Lori was thinking of including my bees in her mad attack, which I was certain she was. “Think about what you’re considering. Bullet point number two, some of you could lose your livelihoods with that kind of talk. We count on those bees to pollinate our crops. We’d be stabbing ourselves in the back. Bullet point number three, we now know for sure that Manny died from stings, thanks to the chief, but they could only have come from wasps, not bees.”
“But one of us could be next,” Lori said, ignoring all my bullet points.
The only bees Lori had ever had to worry about were the ones she’d disturbed when she snuck over to visit Clay while he was still my husband. She’d knocked around in the bees’ territory and riled a few attentive scouts into giving her warning stings. I had watched from the window, knowing what she was up to. By then it was common knowledge that I’d filed for divorce, but Lori was married to Grant Spandle, our town chairman and local land developer, and he wouldn’t have been too happy with his wife if he’d found out.
“We have to take action,” Lori said, intent on rallying the masses.
“What you aren’t going to do is recruit in my store.” I glared at her round, cunning face camouflaged behind the netting.
Johnny Jay butted in. “Maybe you should stock some of those veils,” he said during the pregnant pause while Lori and I squared off. “They’d go like hotcakes.”
“Besides,” I said, ignoring that last remark from the police chief, “I have news to share with you that’ll end this foolishness right now. Grace’s sister-in-law told me the beehives are being picked up tonight by someone from the bee association. They’ll be gone. You won’t have to worry anymore.”
“What about your bees?” Lori said, confirming my suspicion that she was after me more than anything. “They might be killer bees, too.”
“My bees? Killer bees?” I snorted in disgust. “Yeah, right.” Then I addressed the others, “Any of you are welcome to come over and check out my hives.”
Bruce Cook was hanging at the edge of the group, listening in. His third-grade class had toured my backyard beehives. “Bruce,” I said. “Did any of your kids get stung?”
“You know they didn’t,” Bruce said. “It was a fun day.”
“See,” I pointed to Lori. “Come on over and see for yourself if you don’t believe Bruce.”
“No, thanks,” Lori said. “I’ve already had first-hand experience with your aggressive bees.”
“Should I explain to everyone why my bees went after you? And what you were doing at the time?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Lori said, taking a step back like I’d slapped her. I noticed her tone evened out instantly as she rethought her strategy. I’d never threatened to expose her before, but my back was up against the wall. I’d thrown away the rule