Buzz Off - By Hannah Reed Page 0,79
Hunter said, “When Johnny found out we were going to the dance together, he wanted to fight me over it.”
“I didn’t know that!” I smiled to myself, imagining the two of them scuffling over me. Lardy Johnny, who had slimmed down since then, and scrappy, toned Hunter. No match. Hunter would have taken him no problem. “He can really hold a grudge,” I added, wishing the police chief would get over it.
“You made a serious impression on him.”
“So, now what? Please, please, I’m begging you, take over.”
Hunter’s rich laugh came through. “I work for Waukesha County and the local Critical Incident Team. Johnny Jay is Moraine’s police chief and very territorial, in case you haven’t noticed. I don’t have any jurisdiction in Moraine, and he has stopped sharing information with me since he found out we’ve resumed our friendship with each other.”
“Oh.” That would have been my fault, bringing up Hunter’s name every time Johnny Jay and I got into it.
Then I realized Hunter probably didn’t even know about the earring showing up in my store, so I related that little bit of fresh terror.
“Maybe you should move out here until this whole thing is resolved,” Hunter said, not suggestively. More worried than anything else.
“I’m fine,” I said, now more worried than ever because he was. I took a sip of wine.
“Sure you don’t want to come out here for a while?”
“I’m sure.” While the thought of Hunter’s protection appealed to the romantic side of me, I had a store to run and a bee business that was disintegrating before my eyes. I couldn’t let him sidetrack me with his sweet masculine musk.
Besides, we were supposed to be going slow, not moving in together.
After that we talked about the store robbery and Carrie Ann. He had stopped at the hospital to see how she was doing, but she’d been asleep. The hospital staff said she could probably go home tomorrow.
“I think someone might have murdered Manny,” I told Hunter.
“Story, that would be quite a trick, a murderer conspiring with bees to kill a human. A real stretch.”
“The killer recruited yellow jackets,” I correct him. “Not bees. And it’s possible. I could do it.”
“Really! This I have to hear.”
“I’d find a nest and come back at night. It would have to be a nest in a tree, not in a hole, one I could remove and trap in a container. I’d have to wear bee-protection clothing and move very fast. After that, I’d wait until Manny was in his honey house and I’d lock him in.”
“From the outside?”
“It has a padlock on the outside. And I’d make sure he didn’t have his own bee suit or any way to defend himself. Then I’d release the yellow jackets inside the honey house.”
“Your theory needs polishing. For example, how would you release them?”
“I’m still in the early stages of development, but it could be done. Remember, I’d be wearing protection.”
“Let me know when you pull it all together.”
“You’ll be the first to know.”
“And if Manny was murdered, why?”
“I’m working on that, too.” I wasn’t ready to tell Hunter about Clay and Grace. Not yet. Better to give him small pieces at a time.
We said good night to each other, adding more affection to our tones than usual, with a last warning from him to be careful.
It felt good to have someone care.
After talking to Hunter, I walked through the garden, inspecting everything. The tomatoes were ripening, winter squash was sprawling in the paths, the buttercup squash seemed to grow larger right before my eyes, and my fall crop of lettuce was bursting forth, some of it chewed down by the rabbit I’d seen from the river. But my philosophy was, critters need to eat, too. I just planted more than I needed and shared the abundance.
After that I drove to the Waukesha jail.
“He doesn’t want to see you,” said a cop behind a glass partition after delivering my request to see Clay Lane.
“He can’t do that. He doesn’t have a choice. He’s my husband.” I’d be thrilled never to have to say that again.
The cop shrugged, not impressed.
“Tell him I’m going to help him get out of here.”
That got me a second look and a raised eyebrow.
“I don’t mean break him out tonight,” I said. “I’m going to prove he didn’t murder his girlfriend. Tell him that.”
My message was relayed down the channels and eventually I was allowed in.
“What?” Clay said, looking like a convicted man who’d lost hope.
“I know you didn’t kill