Buzz Off - By Hannah Reed Page 0,29

myself, waiting for her answer. The false tip had to have been made sometime on Saturday, after Faye was found but before the library closed for the day. If Clay hadn’t been there, he couldn’t have used the computer to send the e-mail and he was totally clear in my book.

Milly scrunched her forehead. “Um, I don’t think so. But there were so many people in and out.” She paused. “No, he definitely wasn’t outside when Larry Koon came rushing over to tell us the awful news. Wouldn’t that have been a terrible shock for him? Not that it wasn’t bad enough for him later, I’m sure.”

“I’m relieved I wasn’t the one to have to tell him,” I said.

“Now I remember,” Milly said. “Emily told me later about how pleased she had been to see Clay because he’d never set foot in the library before. And I said to her, maybe he was turning over a new leaf, a book leaf, and how he would need some distractions to help him get over this and reading might help.” She took a sip of coffee. “Emily said she went inside after the news came, but he was gone by then. What’s wrong with you?”

The coffee I was pouring missed the cup and splattered across the top of the counter.

Eleven

I tried to stay calm after learning that my ex-husband had been at the library that afternoon and could have sent the incriminating e-mail. I reminded myself that almost the entire community had been there as well. Anybody could have done it. Anybody.

Thankfully, to keep my mind out of dark corners, Sundays are always busy days at the store. My honey sticks were the most popular item with the kids. That and all the penny candy in bins, though it cost a lot more than a penny these days. Locals came in to gossip and buy ingredients for Sunday family dinners. P. P. Patti bought a half dozen ears of corn and tried to twist as much information about Faye’s death from my lips as possible.

“I can’t talk about it,” I improvised, refusing to add gossiper to my list of personal faults. “The police chief is investigating and he asked me to keep everything I know confidential for now.”

“That means you know something important to the case,” Patti pointed out. “I heard you were taken in for questioning.”

“Consulting,” I corrected her. My mother must be having a bird—her word for a fit—over what was going around.

Stanley Peck had his own angle. “Maybe something illegal was going on somewhere up the river,” he said, filling his shopping basket with beer and pretzels. “Thieves with their loot or something worse. And Faye happened right into the middle of it. They couldn’t let her go because she could identify them.”

“You should tell the police chief about your theory,” Patti said.

Stanley was on a roll. “I just might do that. You be careful down by that river, you hear? You, too, Story. At least until the police solve the case. We haven’t had this much action since I shot my foot. I mean, since I got shot in the foot.” He had the decency to blush at his slip of tongue. So the rumor was true. Stanley had shot his own foot.

Lori Spandle came in to remind me that I still had to prove the bees were gone to pacify the masses and time was running out, she said, as though I didn’t know that. Lori still had on her bee veil. “You should be in marketing,” I said just to bug her. “You really know how to brand your product.”

“I am in marketing, in case you’ve forgotten,” the real estate agent said. “As soon as Manny’s funeral is over, I have to talk to Grace about selling out.”

The woman was like a barracuda. And her husband, the land developer, wasn’t any better. The Spandles made quite a team. She squeezed the landowner, so her husband could sweep in to develop the land.

“Manny would never approve of selling,” I said.

“Manny’s gone,” Lori said. “It’s Grace’s decision now. Don’t forget,” she added again, “you have to prove that those bees are out of attack range.”

“The ones at Manny’s, yes,” I said. “I’ll go out and take pictures of the empty beeyard after I close at five. They’re really gone. Grace told me.” Thanks to the police chief and his interrogation drama last night that prevented me from saving some of the hives, they were all gone. My heart