The Case of the Suspicious Smoke
A Mayhem Village Cozy Mystery
Chapter 1
Icarefully pulled Gretchen Lipscomb’s hair out of the curler and ran through it with my brush. The whole process of getting her hair done for the community’s new cafe launch had taken almost two hours, but we were approaching the finish line.
Gretchen peeked her eyes open, and I watched as her eyebrows rose.
I bit my bottom lip, hoping they were rising in pleasure, not in disgust.
“I’ve still got a few more to take out,” I told her, grabbing the last two in the back and unrolling them carefully. The mayor’s wife had asked me to come to her house and do her hair for this special event. Even though it was supposed to be my day off, I prefer doing my favorite thing rather than just staying at home and filling the empty time.
“What do you think?” I asked when Gretchen still hadn’t said anything. She rose from the chair and approached the mirror, turning her head right and left.
“Jane, you’ve done it again,” she finally said, her lips spreading into a pleased grin. My shoulders sagged in relief as I began to carefully put away the curlers.
“Gretchen!” I heard the mayor shouting.
I glanced at the mayor’s wife and saw her smile had been traded for a more serious look. Her lips were pressed into a straight line,
and her eyes were no longer crinkled in joy.
“I’ll be back in just a minute to pay you,” Gretchen told me, hurrying out of the living room. I continued to clean up the mess I had made while doing her hair.
Unfortunately, because there was no door to the living room, I could hear almost every word of the mayor’s conversation.
“You were supposed to be at the cafe early to make sure everything was in place. What are you still doing here?”
“I was getting my hair done. You said you wanted me to look nice, so-”
“That doesn’t mean you have to spend a whole morning doing your hair.” The mayor’s voice rose, and I tried to rustle my large plastic bag a little louder so the mayor might get the hint that someone else was still here.
I wasn’t married or close to being married, but I knew all couples fight. Still, that doesn’t mean I want to hear it.
I took my broom out and swept the floor, being careful to get up all of the mayor’s blonde hair. She really needed to dye her hair again, but we wouldn’t have had time this morning.
Finally, when everything was cleaned up, I shifted back and forth, trying to think of something else I could do so I wouldn’t overhear any other harsh words.
I went over to the mantel and studied the photos that had been placed there. Several were of the mayor with other people serving in the government, representatives, senators, board members of something or other. In the middle was a picture of the mayor and Gretchen. They were much younger in the picture, and I could see the joy on their faces as they smiled into the camera.
“Jane!”
When I heard my name, I whirled around, almost jumping out of my skin.
Gretchen had returned holding a check in her hand. I started to reach out to take it, but Gretchen didn’t hand it over right away. Instead, she stopped by the oversized mirror hanging on the wall and studied herself. I hoped she wasn’t going to dislike the hairstyle I had done just because the mayor was critical of it.
“I don’t suppose you know anything about skin care, do you?” Gretchen asked, touching the skin at the corners of her eyes. Crow’s feet had appeared a few years ago, making it clear that Gretchen had already entered her fifties.
“Sorry, Hair It Out focuses on hair only, though I’m sure I could get you a recommendation for someone.”
Gretchen smiled at me and finally handed over the check. “Thanks, I would appreciate it. Would you like to come to the cafe with me? I need to get over there and make sure everything is in place for the grand opening.”
I swallowed, unsure why Gretchen was inviting me to go with her. Sure, we chatted for a few hours every few weeks when I did her hair, but I wouldn’t consider us friends.
On the other hand, I had nothing else to do. I wouldn’t mind getting an inside look at the new cafe.
“Sure.” I looked down at my comfortable black leggings and red and white tunic top. “I don’t know if this is appropriate, though.”
Gretchen smiled at me. “It’s just the mayor and I who have to dress up. You know, with camera crews there, we always have to look our best. You’re fine wearing that.”
I shrugged. “I suppose I’ll meet you there, then.”
I tucked the check into my purse and carried out the last load of my hair supplies. I watched as Gretchen climbed into her black BMW and led the way to the cafe.
I had heard a little bit about it, though I couldn’t remember the name. Supposedly, it was working to bring inclusivity to Mayhem by providing options for those with food sensitivities. This cafe was all about gluten-free, vegan, nut-free, and other things that I didn’t know much about.
I had heard there would be free samples, and I was excited to try some.
Gretchen pulled up to the front of the parking lot where a spot had been roped off. I was forced to search for my own spot. Camera crews crowded the sidewalk. Reporters stood in the middle of the parking lot, meaning that I had to inch forward.
I finally gave up, backed into the street, and parked parallel to the sidewalk.
When I rejoined Gretchen, she was talking to a reporter about some samples she had tried last week.
“They were divine. I have suffered with a gluten allergy for most of my life. Being able to have a cafe that caters to those of us on the fringe is something new. Often, I’ve had to choose between enjoying myself by eating what’s being served but suffering from stomach pain later or going without.”
I stood behind some reporters. It didn’t seem like Gretchen had even noticed me, so I glanced around, curious about all the hype. One of the side doors burst open, and a man dressed all in black ran out.
The frantic look in his eyes told us that he was shouting something important, but it was impossible to tell what he was saying.
Finally, he got closer, and I could hear what he was saying. “Fire!”
Another two people stumbled out of the back doors. This time, a puff of smoke followed them out. The smoke soon filled the air, chugging out of the kitchen doors with an unmatched enthusiasm. Everyone backed up from the cafe, and I watched as Gretchen dialed 911. A sudden explosion caused the mildly curious crowd to panic, and people started running and screaming everywhere.
I ducked back to my car, wanting to stay safe, but also find out what had happened.
Chapter 2
The firemen arrived and addressed the fire immediately. However, it didn’t take a genius to know that the cafe was done for.
I circled the place from a distance and saw the crumpled, burnt side of the building. The whole back was gone, and the kitchen looked like a blackened shell. The cafe backed up to another parking lot and I imagined someone, the person who had started the fire, parking back there. Everyone had been gathered up front, so it would be an easy task to sneak in, start the fire, then leave.
Smoke clung to my hair and clothes, and I wrinkled my nose at the acrid smell.
Gretchen had invited me here, and I suddenly remembered her. She was sure to be heartbroken. I hurried back in her direction and saw that she was sitting in her car, avoiding the reporters.
A police officer forced the reporters to keep a respectful distance. A lot of the reporters were filming the firemen putting out the fire and talking excitedly into their microphones.
I waved to Gretchen in the car, and the policeman allowed me to pass.
“Are you okay?” I asked when Gretchen had rolled down the window.
“Physically, I’m fine,” Gretchen answered. But I heard the tremble in her voice. “I’m going back to my house now. The detective wants
to interview me, and I think it will be more private to have a chat there.”
“That’s a good idea,” I agreed, realizing that it would probably be Bruce interviewing her. “Do you mind if I come with you? I’d like to talk to the detective too.”
My mind was already spinning with theories, but I knew that hearing Bruce interview Gretchen would give me more information. I didn’t have many concrete facts now. I just had a lot of loose theories. I needed something to back them up.
Gretchen didn’t answer right away, but she finally nodded.
“I’ll see you there.”
I rushed over to my car. I had an easier time getting through the crowd of onlookers. They had come to celebrate a cafe, and they were now witnessing a tragedy. I just hoped that no one had been seriously injured.
When I reached the mayor’s house, the gate remained firmly shut. I had to pull out of the way and wait for Gretchen to return. While I waited, I peered through the black, iron rails of the fence and tried to see if the mayor’s car was there.
Gretchen returned just as I stepped back from the fence and hurried back to my car. Detective Bruce pulled in behind Gretchen, and I pulled in last.
The gate shut firmly behind us.
As I climbed out of my car, I looked around. Even though I felt badly for Gretchen, part of me felt excited to be faced with a new mystery.
I couldn’t wait to compare notes with Bruce.
“How are you?” Bruce asked me, but I could tell he was more focused on Gretchen. He already had a notepad out as Gretchen led us into the living room.
“Can I get anyone some tea or coffee?” Gretchen asked. She was staring off into an upper corner of the room, but I noticed the tremble at the corners of her mouth. She was trying to hold herself together.
“Mrs. Mayor, please don’t worry about serving us right now. The firemen have already told me that they found a Molotov cocktail in
the kitchen. The cook confirmed that he heard a smash, then turned and saw fire. This fire was no accident.”
Gretchen looked at Bruce sharply, and I watched quietly from my corner, determined to learn as much as I could. While I had suspected the fire wasn’t an accident, having it confirmed made my sympathies for Gretchen rise.
“Who would want to destroy the cafe?” Gretchen asked, a catch in her voice.
“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Bruce said. “I’m going to ask you a lot of questions, because I need to know as much as possible about the cafe and your plans for it. Are you okay answering my questions?”
“Of course! I’ll tell you whatever I can to help, but I don’t…” Gretchen’s voice trailed off, and Bruce and I traded looks.
I would provide an alibi for Gretchen if necessary, but it didn’t seem like Bruce was treating her like a suspect. I already had my suspicions, and I turned my eyes up to the ceiling, like I might be able to see upstairs if I looked hard enough.
Where was the mayor? Shouldn’t he be comforting his wife right now?
“I can’t understand how someone would want to damage the cafe.”
“I don’t know yet either, but let’s focus on what you do know. It may help me. I’ve got my buddy talking to everyone at the scene, but you can provide us with some background.”
Gretchen rolled her shoulders back and nodded, mentally preparing herself for the questions to come.
“Can you think of anyone who wouldn’t want this cafe to succeed?”
Gretchen pressed her lips together and thought for a full minute before answering. “No, I genuinely can’t. This cafe has been my project for the last two years. My husband doesn’t trust me to work on a lot of things. He says…” Gretchen seems to consider if she should tell us, but then she decides to continue. “He says that I’m too forgetful sometimes, and that I shouldn’t be allowed to work on just anything. But this has been my project for the last two years.
We were finally, finally going to have a cafe that provided safe options for everyone.”
A tear appears and rolls down Gretchen’s cheek, though she is quick to wipe it away. “I just can’t understand who wouldn’t want that.”
“Maybe it’s not about the cafe,” Bruce prodded. “Maybe it has to do with you. If this has been yourproject, maybe somebody wanted to hurt you by destroying it. Can you think of anyone who has a problem with you?”
Once again, Gretchen took her time thinking before shaking her head. “I’ve had disagreements with people, but nothing serious. Everyone has disagreements every once in a while.”
“Tell us about your most recent disagreements.”
Gretchen glanced at me, then at the detective. She didn’t answer. She glanced at me again, and I got the hint. “I’ll go make some tea,” I suggested, excusing myself from the room.
I wasn’t exactly comfortable in the house, but I had been there a few times to do Gretchen’s hair for special occasions. I found the kitchen easily enough. Even though I strained my hearing, I couldn’t hear what Bruce was asking her.
So, I busied myself putting on a kettle and waiting for the water to heat up. The cabinet held more than twenty different kinds of tea, but the peppermint called my attention.
I readied the bags in teacups, then crept to the edge of the kitchen to strain my ears again. Suddenly, footsteps told me someone was coming down the hall, so I scurried back to the kettle.
A woman with a wrinkled face appeared, startling when she saw me standing there.
“Do you need something? I’m happy to help you,” she offered, taking over at the kettle.
I stepped back. Of course the mayor didn’t make his own tea. They had someone to help them. “You go sit. I’ll bring you the tea when it’s ready,” the woman insisted, shooing me out of the kitchen.
I wandered down the hall, hovering outside of the open doorway into the living room. I didn’t hear any voices, so I was just about to step inside the room when the front door flew open.
The mayor stepped inside, a disgruntled look on his face. He glared at me. “Where’s my wife?” he asked.
I pointed into the living room. Before I could say anything about her talking to the detective, he marched inside. I shrugged, decided that if he was interrupting, I could too, and I marched inside after him.
“Gretchen, are you alright?” the mayor asked, sinking onto the sofa next to her.
I noted the stiffness of Gretchen’s shoulders as she nodded. “I’m fine.” She turned slightly so that her back was more toward her husband. I didn’t think it was an accident either. There was clearly something more serious going on between the two of them.
“Can we have a few minutes, detective?” the mayor asked.
The detective, who was a guest in their home after all, stood and shrugged. “We’ll be in the front hall,” he said, nodding with his head for me to follow him.
Keeping his voice low, Bruce relayed what Gretchen had told him. “I trust you from working with you before, but I honestly don’t have any information to give to you. Can you back up Gretchen’s alibi?”
I nodded. “Yes, she was with me beforehand. I arrived at ten o’ clock to do her hair. It took a solid two hours, then I followed her over in my car.”
“Did you have sight of her car at all times?”
“There were a few minutes when I was parking that I couldn’t see her, but she was surrounded by reporters. Besides, I don’t think Gretchen would do anything to sabotage her own cafe. It wouldn’t make sense. You and I have both seen the excitement she brought to this project. I can’t see any reason why she would benefit from destroying it.”
Bruce bit his bottom lip, then ran a hand through his dark hair. “There’s no motive, but she seemed like she would have the most information, which is why I interviewed her first. But with the money she has at her disposal, she could have hired someone to throw the molotov cocktail.”
“If she did, there will be a trail, a payment.” I glanced at the open living room so close to us and lowered my voice even more. “I
think you’re looking in the wrong direction though.”
Bruce shook his head and smiled. “She’s not a serious suspect. I just have to rule everything out. I was hoping she would give me a lead on someone who would want to hurt her project. Maybe someone who doesn’t approve of her inclusion efforts or someone who wanted to use the property for another purpose? It’s a starting point.”
“I think you shouldn’t look that far away.” I mouthed the next words. “The mayor.”
Bruce bit his bottom lip again then slowly shook his head. “That’s not possible.”
“It is,” I insisted. “I’ve been Gretchen’s hair dresser for years. People talk when they’re getting their hair done. Her marriage with her husband is deteriorating.” I tried to recall the specifics from her argument with her husband earlier, but I couldn’t remember exactly what was said. “He’s always putting her down, treating her like a child. Their marriage may not last at this point. I don’t know the exact reasoning or anything, but it was him.”
“The mayor wouldn’t destroy public property. That’s not what he stands for.”
“You were asking Gretchen about who would have a reason to want to hurt her. The mayor. He’s your answer.” I was too aware that if the mayor overheard me talking, he could set his sights on me next.
“I’m not saying you don’t need evidence, but just look at the crime scene from that perspective. Promise me you’ll-”
But I didn’t get to finish my plea, because a scream out front sounded like a siren through the air. An explosion rocked the house, and I gripped the stair rail as the floor shuddered underneath me.
Bruce and I traded looks. Another one?
Chapter 3
Whenever I hear a scream, what do I do? I run toward it of course.
Bruce yanked open the front door of the house, and we poured out onto the front porch. Gretchen was only a few steps behind us.
I didn’t see anything immediately except for a plume of smoke rising into the sky like a miniature mushroom.
Gretchen seemed to sense what had happened, and she moved more quickly than I’d ever seen her move. I followed her, and Bruce kept pace with me.
When Gretchen rounded the corner of the house, she froze. I almost ran into her, but veered to the side just in time. Her beautiful black BMW was no longer beautiful. Steady smoke poured out from under the hood, and the whole thing seemed to crumple into itself.
“911!” Gretchen called, but she didn’t dial it herself.
I seemed to remember how my hands worked, and I pulled my phone out of my pocket to make the call.
As I answered the dispatcher’s rote questions, I scanned the scene. The maid stood on the other side of the car. She must have come out the back door. A tray lay at her feet, but nothing was on it. No teacups lay scattered around, which I found very suspicious. Had the mayor paid her to do this?
“They’ll have someone here in a few minutes. Almost everyone is still at the other fire,” I told Bruce. “That was probably his plan.
Make sure the firefighters were busy, then come after Gretchen here.”
Gretchen’s body trembled as she stood staring in horror at her car. Bruce took Gretchen’s arm and gently guided her back into the house.
I stayed by the car for a few minutes, then set my sights on the maid. Bruce would probably want to interview her, but he couldn’t stop me from asking a few questions. After all, Bruce and I had worked together before, and it had been a successful collaboration.
I gave the car a wide berth as I rounded it to join the maid on the back patio.
“Are you alright?” I asked.
The woman bent and picked up the tray, holding it so tightly that her knuckles turned white. “Let me help you with that,” I said, taking the tray. She wouldn’t let go, so it turned into an awkward tug of war.
Then, she looked down, realized what was happening, and let go. I examined the tray. It was a sturdy, plastic thing, not the kind of material I would expect in the mayor’s fancy house.
“Are you feeling okay?” I asked again.
The woman looked directly into my eyes and nodded. Then, it was like a dam broke loose, and she started to speak. “I thought I smelled smoke, so I stepped outside to follow the smell. When I came around the corner of the house, I saw Mrs. Lipscomb’s car, and well, I screamed.”
I smiled encouragingly.
“What happened to make her car explode like that?”
I glanced back at the car, wishing I had the right explanation. “I’m not sure. That’s what we’re trying to find out. Did you see anyone when you came out here?”
I leaned closer, trying to see the answer in the woman’s eyes.
She shook her head, though. “No, I just saw the car and the smoke. Cars don’t just explode like that. Someone had to have done it, right?”
I nodded, but I didn’t want to start any rumors. I excused myself to find Bruce. As I entered through the back door, I saw steaming
cups of tea waiting to be served. As the maid seemed unable to serve them at the moment, I took one for myself and sipped it cautiously as I peered into the living room.
Gretchen wasn’t there. Neither was Bruce.
I checked in the dining room and found Bruce bent over his phone, typing something out with great concentration.
I took the seat next to him and sipped my tea. “Now we know that someone is targeting Gretchen. You can’t think that was an accident.”
“No, thatwas not an accident,” Bruce responded, still not looking up from his phone.
After another silent minute, he finally set his phone down on the table and looked up at me. His eyes betrayed the level of his concern. “I don’t know how safe Gretchen is,” he confessed. “Does someone just want to scare her, or are they actually trying to kill her?”
Bruce folded his hands and studied me. “Tell me how you think the mayor could want to kill his wife?”
“I don’t know if he wants to kill her. It’s just a gut feeling. Did you see the way she acted when he reached out to touch her? She turned away from him, and…”
“Marital issues don’t make someone a murderer and an arsonist.”
“I understand,” I continued. “But it gives us a direction to look in. Where’s the mayor right now? He was in the room with Gretchen, then he wasn’t.”
Bruce pulled out his phone again and typed out something. “I’ll look into it. I need to interview him anyway, but I need some real reasoning from you about how he could be involved.”
“It’s a gut feeling.” Bruce gave me a disapproving look. “I know that’s not enough, but it’s what I have right now. Follow up on it, and you’ll see I’m right.”
I took another sip of my tea, and the peppermint warmed me. “Now, tell me where Gretchen is. I want to speak to her again.”
“She went up to her room,” Bruce said. “I don’t have any further questions for her, and it seemed like she needed some time to herself.”
I carefully climbed the stairs to the top floor. Once there, I saw only one of the doors closed. It was the only door on the right side of the hall, so it seemed likely that it was the master bedroom.
My stomach flipped over at this intrusion on her privacy. I knocked gently at the door and heard Gretchen’s voice crack as she called for me to enter.
Carefully, I pushed the door open and stood in the doorway a moment as my eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness of the room. One of the curtains was half-open, but the light was barely enough to see by.
“I wanted to check on how you’re doing,” I said, still not moving from the doorway.
Gretchen rose from the wingback chair in the corner of the room and wiped at her face. “I apologize. What a terrible host I am, hiding up here when I have guests downstairs.”
“No, no,” I said, waving my hands to show that wasn’t the problem at all. “You sit back down. I came to check on you. There’s tea in the kitchen if you’d like a cup.”
Gretchen paused, her hand on the arm of the chair. “I’ll join you downstairs for a cup of tea. Just give me a moment to get myself together.”
Gretchen shuffled slowly to the en suite bathroom as I remained in the doorway. As soon as the door to the bathroom shut, I moved into action.
I darted across the room to the closet on the left side. It seemed like from my quick survey that this would be the mayor’s closet. Then, I cracked the door open and grabbed a tie from the tie rack front and center.
With a quick shove, the tie was hidden in my leggings. I tugged my tunic top down over it to hide the lumpiness. We would see what the mayor had really been up to.
Chapter
4
When I reached my house, Archie immediately started licking my leggings. I patted his white head, right between his upright ears. “I’m excited to see you, too, boy. I’ve got a job for you tonight. Just you wait.”
Archie seemed to sense where I had hidden the tie, but I placed it on top of the kitchen cabinets so he wouldn’t start sniffing it yet.
“You’ll get a chance. Just wait,” I told him, filling up his water bowl before collapsing into my recliner.
The events of the day played through my head, and I tried to order them in a way that made sense.
A knock sounded at the front door, and Archie raced to greet our visitor. I rose halfway from the recliner until I saw Abby’s familiar redhead coming through the door. She brushed her curly mane back from her face as she reached down to pet Archie.
“Aw, aren’t you the sweetest little boy in the world?”
Brenda pushed past Abby and hugged me before taking a corner of the couch. “You won’t believewhat we heard at the salon today.”
I had a feeling I knew where Brenda was going with this, but I smiled and settled in to listen to the Hair It Out gossip.
Archie followed Abby to the couch and rested his head on her lap, clearly forgetting that he was my dog and supposed to be loyal to me.
“Someone said she was driving down the road and passed that new building they’ve been working on. You know the one. It’s supposed to be a restaurant or something?” Brenda looked confused.
“The All-in-One Cafe,” Abby supplied, looking deeply into Archie’s eyes.
“Yeah, that’s it. My customer said it was on fire.” Brenda’s eyes grew wide as she waited for me to be surprised.
I nodded knowingly. “It exploded this afternoon right before the opening ceremony.”
“Opening ceremony? How do you know about it?”
“I was there.”
Brenda and Abby listened with rapt attention as I described first the explosion at the cafe, then the one that had destroyed Gretchen’s car.
“I can’t believe this is what happens on your day off,” Brenda commented.
Abby laughed. “Yeah, usually my day off is just reading a book and cleaning. Clearly, I need to change around the schedule.”
I shook my head, dropping my smile. “In all seriousness, someone is attempting to hurt Gretchen. Maybe physically or maybe just hurt her by destroying the things that matter to her. I’m not sure, but I’m going to get Archie to help me out.”
At his name, Archie lifted his chin off Abby’s lap and looked at me. When he didn’t see any immediate pets coming his way, he settled his chin back onto Abby.
“What is Archie going to do?” Abby asked.
I pointed toward the kitchen. “It’s going to be dark in less than two hours. Then, I’m going to use a tie that I may or may not have taken from the mayor’s house to give Archie a scent and see what he can find.”
“Detective dog,” Abby said, giving Archie a good scratch behind his ears.
“I kind of want to go with you,” Brenda said, leaning forward. “Archie is a smart dog. What if you find an important clue?”
“I’m hoping I do, but I think it’s better if it’s just Archie and I. I don’t want anyone accusing me of destroying a crime scene. If it’s just Archie and I out there, then I can say we were going for a walk.”
Abby agreed. “Well, if we’re not allowed to come, can you at least keep us updated? I want to know if Archie doesfind anything.”
Archie decided to hide from all this name calling, so he turned and marched over to his bed in the corner where he flopped down and closed his eyes, clearly bored with the conversation.
“I’ll tell you ladies for sure,” I promised, hoping that I would actually have something to tell them. I didn’t want to get my hopes up.
When darkness arrived, I got the leash out from the front closet. Archie leaped to the door in excitement, turning in a circle before prancing impatiently.
“We have to go in the car first,” I told him as I hooked the leash onto his collar.
Archie bounded down the driveway, trying to tug me after him, but I pulled him to the car instead. After a brief moment of puzzlement, Archie sniffed at the car and hopped inside, sitting proudly in the passenger seat.
It didn’t take us long to reach the location of the first explosion. Yellow tape fluttered in the light evening breeze. Archie barked at the movement, sure the yellow tape was attempting to attack him.
"Whoa!" I said quietly, running a reassuring hand over his back.
Archie cocked his head at the tape, glaring at it as though he were daring it to charge at him.
I studied the scene surrounding what used to be a beautiful, blue and white cafe. No cops appeared to be watching the place. They had gathered all of the evidence they could find.
But I hadn't yet given Archie a chance to do his own sleuthing.
Glancing around one more time, I couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching me. Maybe it was my conscience reminding me that I was technically trespassing on a crime scene.
"It's just to help. I'm not actually going to touch anything," I reminded myself.
I reached into my car and extracted the tie I had stolen earlier. Okay, that was actually a crime, but it wasn't like the mayor would miss one tie when he had more than twenty.
"Archie, come smell this," I encouraged him.
He padded eagerly toward me. As he ran his nose over the piece of cloth, I unhooked his leash. He seemed especially fascinated by one point in the middle of the cloth.
"Go on. Go see what you can find." I pushed Archie gently away from me, and he set his nose to the ground, a dog on a mission.
He ran back and forth, making strange zigzags across the parking lot. I followed from a distance, so he could do his thing without any interruptions.
Then he took off.
I sprinted after him. Archie had a good nose, but he was also easily distracted by rabbits and cats.
"Archie! Archie, come back here!" I called, not caring that someone might hear me. Last time Archie chased my neighbor's cat, she had put in a complaint with animal control. I didn't need another one of those on my record.
"Archie!"
He ran behind the halfway open door of the dumpster, and I drew up, not able to keep that pace for long.
"Archie," I said again, but not with nearly as much energy.
Archie barked, then barked again. I took a deep breath to prepare for the dumpster smell and slid through the opening.
Behind the gate were two fairly new dumpsters, both brown with gaping holes in their sides. Archie stood underneath one, barking angrily at it.
"Did you find something?" I asked. Archie barked again, then ran in a circle and returned to my side.
I clipped the leash back onto his collar and led him to the dumpster he had signaled under. Despite me trying to keep the smell from piercing my nostrils, it infiltrated anyway- a sick smell of rotting meat and maggots.
I coughed and gagged as I stood on my toes to peer inside. Large, black trash bags filled the dumpster about halfway. And right
on top of some trash bags like someone hadn't even attempted to hide them, sat a pair of gloves.
I reached for them, then stepped back before I could touch them. I didn't want to contaminate anything. As much as I hated to give up now, I needed to call Bruce in.
I dialed his number and waited as it rang, knowing he had probably gone home by now to enjoy his dinner and relax. This was too important to wait though.
"Hello?"
"Bruce, Archie found some gloves, and I think they could belong to our arsonist."
There was a long pause like Bruce couldn't believe what I had just said. Then, he started talking as quickly as I had.
"Don't touch anything. Where are you? How do you know they're connected?"
I explained everything to Bruce as I heard the sound of a door slamming and a car starting up in the background.
By the time Bruce arrived, he had been caught up on exactly how I had found them. I didn't like having to wait by the dumpster, but I couldn't risk the gloves disappearing.
"How do you know these are the mayor's?" Bruce asked,as he carefully bagged up the leather gloves to check for fingerprints or other damning evidence.
That was the one point I had avoided in my story. I cleared my throat before answering. If Bruce was going to understand everything, then he needed to know.
"I found it while at the mayor's house earlier."
"Found it?" Bruce cocked an eyebrow that showed I wasn't fooling him. "When you take something from a person's house, that's not called finding. It's called stealing."
Bruce gave me another disapproving look, but before he could keep going about how what I had done wasn't ethical, his phone rang.
"I need to take this," he said, taking a few steps away.
When he returned, his teasing grin had been replaced by a grim look. "The library has been burnt down."
Chapter 5
Bruce hadn’t wanted to take the time to give me any more details once he had laid out the news, but I forced them from him. The community library was burning quickly, probably due to all of the excellent kindling available. The firemen had already arrived and had it under control, and the librarian hadn’t seen anything suspicious.
It had taken another few precious minutes to convince Bruce to let me come along, but he had finally conceded, probably more due to my powers of persuasion than anything else.
When I pulled up in front of the community library, I winced. The damage was not as extensive as with the cafe, but the windows had been blown out. Glass littered the sidewalk in front of the library.
“Archie, stay here,” I said, rolling down the windows halfway to give him some fresh air.
A couple of firemen paced in front of the building. One of them rolled up a giant hose while another carried a singed lump out of the library.
Bruce had already climbed out of his car and was talking to a woman with long braids. I recognized her from my trips to the library, though I had never learned her name.
I sidled up to them as Bruce asked a question. “Doesn’t the library usually close at eight? What were you doing here so late, Olivia?”
“I closed up the library then sat in the car on my phone for a little while. Nobody’s waiting for me at home, so I wasn’t in a rush to get back.”
Olivia glanced over at me, and I held up my hand in a wave. Bruce noticed me and nodded in my direction. “Jane is helping me investigate what happened,” Bruce said.
Olivia tossed one of her braids over her shoulder and studied me for a moment. I tried to read her expression, but I couldn’t tell if she was annoyed that I was there or confused.
But then, after a moment of studying each other, Olivia was cradling her arm. She ran her finger over the skin on her forearm and winced.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
Olivia held her arm out to me, and I saw a long, red mark that stretched almost the full length from her wrist to her elbow, standing out against her dark skin.
“How did you get that? I thought you were in your car.”
Olivia wrinkled her eyebrows. I hadn’t meant for my accusation to come through so blatantly. Bruce gave me a pointed look that I knew meant I should keep my mouth shut.
“When I saw smoke, I went back inside to investigate. A book fell on me as one of the shelves collapsed.”
“You should get that treated,” Bruce suggested. “But if you don’t mind, I want to ask you just a couple more questions first.”
“Of course. Anything I can do to help.”
“Do you know for a fact that the back door was locked before you left?”
Olivia pressed her lips together, before studying her burn. “I didn’t check it to be honest. It’s always locked, so I don’t check it before I leave.”
Bruce nodded and scribbled something down.
Just then, a car pulled into the parking lot, and Archie started barking when the door slammed closed. I whirled around to see what was happening.
The mayor had climbed out of his car, and Archie had managed to squeeze his head and shoulders through the window crack. He
barked and barked. I had never seen him act so crazy over someone. Was it just because he still smelled the scent of the tie? Or was it because he could sense the mayor’s character and intentions?
I took a step toward Archie, but then turned back to hear Bruce’s next question. Archie wouldn’t jump out of the window. He never had before.
Glass hanging from the top of a window tinkled to the ground and made Olivia jump. She hugged her arm to her and looked at the building nervously. “Do you mind if we-”
Archie’s barking grew to a loud protest, then I heard a strange scratching sound. As I turned back, I saw him push and slither his way out through the open window. Once he landed on the ground, he ran toward the mayor.
I cut him off, wrapping my arms around his neck, and tackling him to the ground. Even though I believed the mayor was guilty, that didn’t mean I could just let my dog go after him.
“Archie!” I scolded.
Archie started licking my face, clearly thinking I was playing with him. He lunged in the mayor’s direction one more time before giving up.
Grabbing his collar a bit roughly, I muttered an apology to Bruce and Olivia and took Archie back to my car. I turned the car on and rolled up the windows until they were just open enough for Archie’s nose to fit through.
Then, I sat there for a few minutes and watched the scene. Bruce could ask the questions, but there was something to be said for just watching too.
The mayor had approached one of the firemen and was now participating in an animated discussion. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the mayor was clearly disgruntled with the fact that fires had broken out in three places today.
When I looked back at where Olivia and Bruce were talking, I saw Olivia being led away by an EMT. Bruce continued to scribble in his notebook, pause, then scribble again.
My eyes followed Olivia to the back of the ambulance. She sat on the bed inside, and one of the EMTs got to work, checking her blood
Another random document with no related content on Scribd:
E A .
As originally erected in the Zoological Gardens, Regent's Park
I A
May be taken as suggestive for the construction or appropriation of rooms for the larger Apiaries in summer-houses or other out-buildings.
THE NEW BOTTLE-FEEDER.
It has long been acknowledged that the best mode of feeding bees is through an opening at the top of the stock-hive. The new bottle-feeder is a simple and good means of administering food when a stock requires help in that way, as bees can take the food
from it without leaving the hive. Any kind of hive that has an opening at the top may thus be fed. Another important feature is the cleanliness with which liberal feeding can be accomplished; and few operations require more care than does feeding. If liquid sweet is left hanging about the hive, it tempts robber-bees; and when once the bees of an apiary have had a taste, there is no knowing where their depredations will stop: they resolutely attack and endeavour to rob other hives, fighting and killing one another to a considerable extent. Even if no hives be completely destroyed, weakness from loss of numbers will be the portion of most, if not of all, the hives in the garden.
The morals of our favourites are here a good deal at fault, for the stronger hives, when their inordinate passion is thus stirred up by the carelessness or want of knowledge of the bee-keeper, attack and prey upon the weaker ones. To be "forewarned is to be forearmed"— and "prevention is better than cure." We strongly recommend closely covering up the feeder; one of the middle-size bell glasses put over it makes a close-fitting cover, should the regular cover to the hive not be sufficiently tight. When bees are not kept in a bee-house, and are, on that account, more accessible, this extra care is particularly needed. The right time for feeding is in the autumn or spring. As stated at page 76, it is requisite to ascertain the condition of the hive at Michaelmas, and, if wanting, the deficiency can then be made up. [13] It is not wise to defer feeding until later in the season, because it is important that, when the food is placed b the cells, the bees should seal it up; and a tolerably warm temperature is required to enable them to secrete the wax for the delicately-formed lids of the cells. If the food remained unsealed, there is danger of its turning sour, and thereby causing disease among the bees. It is not well to feed in mid-winter or when the weather is very cold: bees at such times consume but little food, being in a state of torpor, from which it is better not to arouse them.
[13] A much greater quantity of food will have to be administered than the actual weight required to be furnished, because there is a very considerable decrease after it is taken by the bees
A little food in the spring stimulates the queen to lay more abundantly, for bees are provident and do not rear the young so rapidly when the supplies are short. In this particular, the intelligence of bees is very striking; they have needed no Malthus to teach them that the means of subsistence must regulate the increase of a prosperous population:—
"The prescient female rears the tender brood In strict proportion to the hoarded food."
E .
Judgment has, however, to be exercised by the apiarian in giving food, for it is quite possible to do mischief by over-feeding. The bees, when over-fed, will fill so many of the combs with honey, that the queen, in the early spring, cannot find empty cells in which to deposit her eggs, and, by this means, the progress of the hive is much retarded,—a result that should be guarded against. The following directions will show how the bottle-feeder is to be used:—Fill the bottle with liquid food; apply the net, affixed by an india-rubber band, over the mouth; place the block over the hole of the stock-hive, invert the bottle, the neck resting within the hole in the block; the bees will put their tongues through the perforations and imbibe the food, thus causing the bottle to act on the principle of a fountain. The bottle being glass, it is easy to see when the food is consumed. The piece of perforated zinc is for the purpose of preventing the bees from clinging to the net, or escaping from the hive when the bottle is taken away for the purpose of refilling. A very good syrup for bees may be made by boiling 6 lbs. of honey with 2 lbs. of water, for a few minutes; or loaf sugar, in the proportion of 3 lbs. to 2 lbs. of water, answers very well when honey is not to be obtained.
ROUND BEE-FEEDER.
Round bee-feeders are made of zinc and earthenware, eight inches across, three inches deep. The projection outside is a receptacle for pouring in the food; the bees gain access to the feeder through a round hole, which is placed either at the centre or nearer one side, whichever may best suit the openings on the top of the stock-hive. The feeder occupies a similar position to that of the glasses or cap hives in the gathering season. A circular piece of glass, cut so as to fit into a groove, prevents the bees escaping, and retains the warmth within the hive, whilst it affords opportunity for inspecting the bees when feeding.
The feeders were originally only made of zinc; but some beekeepers advised the use of earthenware, and a few have been made to meet the wishes of those who give the preference to that material.
When the bees are fed from above in this manner, the feeder is kept at a warm temperature by the heat of the hive. In common hives, cottagers feed the bees by pushing under the hive thin slips of wood scooped out, into which the food is poured. This plan of feeding can only be had recourse to at night, 'and the pieces of wood must be removed in the morning. By feeding at the top of the stockhive any interruption of the bees is avoided. For further instructions on this head, see the directions given for using the bottle-feeder.
ZINC FOUNTAIN BEE-FEEDER.
We have invented the fountain bee-feeder, in order that a larger supply of liquid food might be given to a hive than is practicable with the round feeder.
The liquid honey is poured in at, the opening, which unscrews; whilst being filled, the inside slide, closing the opening through which the food passes into the feeding-pan, should be shut down. When the reservoir is filled, the screw is made fast, and, the slide being withdrawn, a wooden float, pierced with small holes, through which the bees take the food, forms a false bottom, and rises and falls with the liquid. This feeder, being on the siphon principle, like a poultry or bird water-fountain, is supplied from the reservoir until that is empty. A piece of glass is fixed in the side of the reservoir, in order that the bee-keeper may see when it is emptied. A flat piece of glass on the top prevents the bees from escaping, and through it they may be inspected whilst feeding. The bees find access to the feeder on to the perforated float through the central round hole, which is placed over a corresponding hole in the stock-hive.
HONEY CUTTERS.
Honey cutters are used for removing comb from boxes and glasses without damaging it. The flat-bladed knife is for disconnecting the combs from the sides; the hook-shaped one is for the same purpose, to be applied to the top or horizontal part of the box or glass.
