Farmers Market Fatality Read online

  Kat and Lydia suddenly realized their opportunity. Victor was gone. Gus had left. With wordless cooperation, they decided to investigate Victor’s home and garden.

  ✽✽✽

  Ivy pulled into Miss Jacqui’s driveway. The woman came out to greet her. “Gus came and went,” she relayed. “But Lydia’s still in Victor’s house. What’s going on?”

  “I’ve got to get Lydia out of that house.”

  “Why? Victor took off right before Gus.”

  Ivy locked her car and hurried across the street. “Because he might come back.”

  Miss Jacqui went back inside her house and retrieved her phone. She sat vigilant on the front porch.

  ✽✽✽

  The small greenhouse looked large without plants growing within it. Cardboard boxes rested, ready to be shipped or stored on the floor. The tables hosted cooling candles and a bag of soy pellets. Lydia walked to one table and sniffed the candle. “These are very fresh. They must be the same ones I saw him pour the other day.”

  Kat inspected the other table. “Just mail over here.” She picked up a pen lying nearby. She shuffled through the packages with the pen's tip. “They’re all from the same place.” Bravely she picked a medium parcel and opened it. “Look!”

  Lydia went to Kat. Both ladies looked inside the box. “A mortar and pestle.” Lydia sighed. Her exhale sent an envelope shooting from the table and cascading to the floor. She hurried to retrieve it and spotting something shiny on the floor beside the letter. She held the object.

  “Emily,” Ivy said from the entrance of the greenhouse. Kat startled.

  Without asking how or why she got to Victor’s house, Lydia walked over to Ivy and embraced her. “But what was Emily doing here?”

  “She’s missing. Taken from Ashton General.” Ivy confided, keeping the tears from her voice.

  “What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Ivy frowned. “You haven’t exactly been answering your phone.”

  Lydia hugged the teen again. “I’m sorry.”

  “That still doesn’t explain why Emily was in Victor’s greenhouse,” Kat said from the table.

  “She worked for him, remember?”

  “No,” Ivy clarified, “she didn’t. Lucas and Braden did.”

  “But I saw her, at the Victor E. booth. Thad bought cilantro and tomatoes from her.” Kat dreamed of spicy Pico de Gallo until her eyes locked with Lydia’s.

  “Yes, she staffed the booth to help Lucas.”

  Lydia walked the perimeter of the small greenhouse. “I don’t see any plants in here. Where did he get his cilantro?”

  “Maybe he grew it in the yard or his house?” Kat followed Lydia around the greenhouse.

  “And the tomatoes? There’s not a single pile of soil in here,” Lydia said.

  “Maybe he brought them in. Maybe he’s selling them for someone else.”

  Kat shook her head. “Mario Muggs checked this greenhouse months ago. Vendors can only sell what they’ve grown themselves.”

  Lydia rummaged through the stack of mail Kat previously inspected. She sorted them into piles as Ivy and Kat unraveled the last few weeks.

  “All I see are those stupid candles,” Ivy said. Her eyes suddenly flashed. Kat held her breath as Ivy pulled out her phone. She fanned through her photos, finally landing on a photo from Flora’s. With her palm held toward Kat, she explained her experience with Victor’s candles.

  “That explains all the candle supplies and the crazy prices Victor charged. He was hiding drugs inside them. However, where did he get the medications?” Kat turned toward the strangely quiet Lydia. Her friend did not disappoint.

  “From his personal courier.” Lydia displayed her piles of envelopes. “Each of these packages came from the General Store. Each prescription was handed to Braden Haze and delivered to Victor Cotton.”

  “But Em said Braden worked for Victor for only a few months.”

  “I bet Victor was stealing his neighbors' mail long before that.”

  “Rene and Mario. They both relapsed at the same time.”

  Kat’s mouth sagged. Ivy flash dialed her phone. “I’m calling Flora.”

  Chapter 38

  Ethan slammed the door to his truck. Ashton police weren’t able to add anything to help him find Emily Prior. Now, he had another murder to add to his investigation.

  Braden didn't relapse. He was smothered — no doubt by the same person who snatched Emily. His heart broke for the girl and for her best friend. Losing Emily would devastate Ivy. He bowed his head and prayed for guidance. At the end of his amen, his phone rang.

  “What do you have for me, Gus?” His deputy rattled details through the wireless. “Not again. Okay, I’m on my way.”

  ✽✽✽

  “That explains a lot,” Enoch’s quiet squeaking squeezed through the line. Flora wasn’t shocked at the news of Victor’s drug smuggling.

  “Like what?” Kat asked. On the speaker, Flora’s voice rattled the greenhouse glass.

  “Well, Miss Rene, for starts. Miss Jacqui said her decline began months ago. Her meds were increased and changed, but it didn’t help.”

  Kat groaned. “Then there’s Dr. Lawrence's overtime at the Senior Center.” Kat pointed to the addresses on the stolen packages. “Most of these are Senior Center residents.”

  “Yes, but Isaac said he never received any calls about missing medications,” Lydia said.

  “Victor replaced them with fakes.”

  Ivy continued discussing facts with Flora while Lydia patrolled. “And Braden delivered the fakes,” she said. “Victor packed the real ones inside his candles and sold them.”

  “Like Cordelia’s.”

  Flora’s voice faded as she adjusted her cell phone. “Even Mario was a victim!”

  “Yes, Devon said he’d been in several times before his disappearance asking for help. Lawrence changed his meds with no success.”

  “Oh, dear,” Kat whined.

  “What is it?” All three listeners asked.

  Kat pulled a cell phone out of her back pocket. Guilt blossomed on her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to take it. It hit me in the face.”

  “How?”

  “Long story,” Kat said. “I found it under Cordelia’s pillow.”

  “What were you doing with Cordelia’s pillows?” Flora shouted on the other end of the phone call, followed by her clicking softly to a disturbed newborn.

  “As I said, it’s a long story. I may have accidentally scrolled through a couple of text messages.”

  Lydia’s hands settled on her hips, and she glared at her busybody friend. “Well, the damage is done. What did you find?”

  “Mario’s last text to Cordelia... Sorry, my love, I can’t go on like this...”

  After a long uncomfortable pause, Ivy whispered the common thought, “Mario Muggs gave into suicide?”

  ✽✽✽

  Flora stayed on the line with her friends as Ivy drove back to her house. Flora wanted a more vivid depiction of the greenhouse findings, and Lydia wanted Ivy safely tucked away with Flora. Kat and Lydia quickly appraised Victor’s yard.

  “What if,” Lydia said, “Mario discovered Victor’s nonexistent garden? Maybe he even discovered his candle operations?”

  “Makes sense. However, nobody runs home after discovering their neighbor is a drug dealer and kills themselves.” Kat followed Lydia’s traipse around the yard. She watched Lydia peer into every bush and plant. “What are you looking for?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  Kat pointed to a small cluster of mulch piled near the back fence. “What’s that over there?”

  Lydia followed Kat’s index finger and caught sight of glistening metal beneath the wood chips. She knelt to inspect the bright object. Kat bounced on her heels. “Do you have a handkerchief?”

  Kat frowned. “I gave you my handkerchief earlier for your headache.” Lydia pulled the swatch from her pocket and was instantly taken aback with the stinging scent of pepperm
int oil. She squinted her eyes at Kat. “Okay, maybe I do use a bit too much oil.” Pinching the object between corners of the rag Lydia pulled an aluminum baseball bat from the discarded garden mulch. Kat gagged. “Is that blood?” She pointed.

  “And a lot of it.” Lydia laid the bat gently back onto the ground. “Look what else Victor has hidden here.” She pulled up a small brown satchel.

  “Mario’s You Pick bag.”

  Lydia flipped the top flap back and peered at the contents. “And his journal.”

  ✽✽✽

  Flora greeted Ivy on the porch. “There’s no way Mario killed himself,” she said instead of a greeting. Ivy disconnected their phone call and joined Flora on the porch.

  “I’m wondering why Cordelia would freeze Mario’s body if he did commit suicide. Why didn’t she call it in and get help?”

  Flora rocked her porch swing as she pondered. “She didn’t want anyone to know.”

  ✽✽✽

  Miss Jacqui waited, ready to open her front door. She knew Kat would trek over and she wasn’t disappointed. Kat made herself at home immediately as Miss Jacqui let her inside. “I’ve got to check our cameras.”

  “I’ll make some tea,” Jacqui said.

  ✽✽✽

  Lydia snagged the smallest box of her delivery to Victor’s and tossed it into her car. Ethan would need it as evidence. Since he’d need a warrant and she didn’t, she figured a little theft might be helpful. She draped Mario’s satchel strap over her shoulder and took off toward the police station.

  As she jetted toward safety, electric fear shot through her spine. She white-knuckled her steering wheel as she thought over the last few minutes. Emily was missing but was recently in Victor Cotton’s greenhouse. A greenhouse that he wasn’t using to grow produce. Victor was stealing meds from the mail and using the late Braden Haze as his personal supplier. Lydia witnessed him padding the candle wax with small bags of pilfered pills. No doubt the switch from real medications to illegally made placebos was responsible for the mayhem at the senior center. Lydia assumed it was also to blame for the decline of Miss Rene’s sanity and perhaps even Mario’s Muggs’ depression.

  “But was Mario depressed enough to kill himself,” she said aloud. “What does it all have to do with Hobo Joe?” She startled at her own voice. She shoved the gas pedal closer to the floorboard.

  ✽✽✽

  Kat and Jacqui huddled around Kat’s laptop. They rewatched security footage of the block. Gus pulled in Cordelia’s driveway. Victor Cotton hurried a package inside his house and shut the door. Seconds later, his car shot from his garage and ran down the road.

  “What was that?”

  Kat’s shoulders tightened. She squinted. “Where?”

  Miss Jacqui pointed toward the screen. “In Victor’s car. Back it up.”

  Kat promptly obeyed. They reran the tape three times. Each time they zoomed in on the windshield of the Cotton car. The pixels stretched and fuzzed at command. The picture was hazy but too clear to ignore. Miss. Jacqui’s swallowed her panic.

  “I’m calling Ethan.”

  “Yes. Do that,” Kat said.

  ✽✽✽

  Flora listened as Ivy rattled and cried. They held hands and prayed. After amen, a twinkle settled in Flora’s eyes. “I know where Cordelia might be!”

  Ivy pulled out her phone and texted Lydia as Flora explained.

  Chapter 39

  Lydia coasted into the main circle without a toe on the brake. Her phone vibrated off the dashboard and onto her lap as she swung around the lawn. The text highlight was three words.

  Flora: Check @ Crosses

  Lydia squinted across the lawn. The white memorials sparkled in the glow of battery-operated candles. A lumbering shadow weaved among the columns. “How did you know,” she asked the nonpresent Flora as she prepared to complete her rotation of the town lawn.

  She pulled to the curb and tossed her car into park. Then, after assuring Jacqui’s precious wedding quilt was safely resting in the passenger seat, she left her vehicle.

  “Hello?” Lydia called out. Sudden swelling of fear sloshed in her belly. She flashed a trembling hand to her throat. Remembering the angry hands that held her only weeks ago, Lydia found it challenging to swallow. Her voice left her altogether. She plodded onwards, closer to the crosses.

  The shadow was nowhere in sight. Lydia wondered who it might have been and followed the random trail of artificial candlelight looking for clues. At the brightest lit cross, Lydia knelt onto the grass. She didn’t need to touch the cross to tell it was brand new. The grass around it was damaged, and clumps of excess dirt littered the base. Five automated candle flames flickered under the name written on the horizontal beam. Mario Muggs.

  Lydia looked around the lawn. She stood and dusted off her grass-stained knees. The gazebo offered the only solace for a shadow to hide within. Lydia cupped her hands around her mouth, and shouted, “Cordelia? Is that you? Cordelia?’ The returned silence wasn’t surprising. Quickly, without taking her eyes off the gazebo, Lydia returned Flora’s text.

  Lydia: There Now.

  She then silenced her phone and shoved it into her back pocket. Each step toward the bandstand sent tingles of old terror up her neck. Her entire body begged Lydia to hustle back to her vehicle and drive away. However, her heart lunged out for the bewildered Cordelia, and her heart won the battle.

  “Cordelia!” Lydia shouted, glee misting her voice. She spotted Mrs. Muggs hop from the steps and dart around the side of the gazebo. Lydia quickened her pace, glad someone else was nearby. The lawn was spooky with only the crickets around for company. She froze when the gazebo came into full view.

  ✽✽✽

  Ethan slammed his gas pedal to the ground. The truck swerved and sputtered as it struggled to obey. Ethan wished he’d taken the cruiser. A siren would help warn other traffic of his approach.

  Night in Honey Pot, once it fell, stuck to everything and made the brightest of wildflowers curl into themselves. Without street lights, Ethan depended on his headlights to get him to the main circle. He didn’t want to delay.

  Emily was missing. Ethan was sure the same person responsible for killing Braden Haze had Emily. Hobo Joe was still at the station. There was no way for it to be him. Besides, his motives were weak, and his means even weaker. Ethan believed the entire mess linked back to Mario Muggs. The coroner had all but solidified his theories. He tried calling Lydia, once more, without success.

  ✽✽✽

  Emily Prior knelt weeping next to the railing of the Honey Pot gazebo. Her wrists were attached to the lattice with gardening ties. Cordelia Muggs lay in a heap at Emily’s knees. She slept, unnaturally calm on the hard wooden deck.

  Lydia hurried up the steps and slid in beside Cordelia. Cordelia was drugged. Her breathing was too shallow, too soft. Lydia wordlessly scooted toward Emily. Tears rocketed from the teenager’s eyes and soaked the handkerchief used to gag her.

  Lydia struggled with Emily’s bonds. The zip tie plastic bit into her fingers as she strained to break the first one. Emily cried harder. She shook her head and tugged. Lydia’s fingers didn’t escape in time. The plastic cut into them, and three of them bled from tiny slices. Instinctively Lydia brought her fingers to her lips. She was stopped by a masculine hand, forcing a blue rag to her face.

  The sickly sweet smell of ether wafted in the air. Lydia held her breath and shoved herself away from her attacker. She rolled across the hardwood knocking into Cordelia. Free of the menacing man and his knockout drug Lydia took a deep inhale and caught the scent of gasoline. The odor wasn’t overwhelming in the night air. It grew stronger as Lydia backed her way down the stairs of the gazebo. Three red plastic jugs decorated the bass of the platform.

  Emily screeched beneath her gag. Lydia looked toward her in time to see Victor Cotton backhand the teen across the cheek. Silenced and knocked silly, Emily’s head slumped.

  Victor Cotton sauntered down the pavilion stairs and glow
ered at Lydia. “I don’t have time for this,” he groaned as if he’d chosen the wrong line at the grocery store. “And you don’t have anywhere to go.” Lydia backed toward her car. It wasn’t far away. Only a few seconds, if she sprinted. However, what would she do when she got there?

  Unrushed, Victor turned his back to Lydia. “Oh well, I was going to tidy things up a bit.” He pulled a long candle lighter from his back pocket and clicked it on. His thumb tight to the trigger, he waved it in the air.

  “The gasoline!”

  “Yup, it’s going to get messy. That’s for sure. I’ll be gone by then. You deal with it.” The small blue flame on the light puffed out.

  “Thank you, Father,’ Lydia whispered. Victor activated the switch again. The flame fluttered and blew out. He cursed and chunked the useless lighter to the ground. Taking a small box of matches from the same pocket, Victor shook them in the air. He taunted Lydia. Then Victor struck the first one, tossing it onto the gazebo before lighting another.

  Victor lit three matches while Lydia prayed. Her legs shivered. Her shoulders tightened. She knew what her husband would want her to do. Get help. But there wasn’t time. Again she shot a desperate prayer to God. Then she launched, screaming and howling like a madwoman right at Victor Cotton.

  ✽✽✽

  Ethan sighted his wife on the lawn. The sparks of a tiny flame caught his attention, and she was in the center of the mess. He drove onto the grass, leaving considerable tracks in the perfect landscape and tossed on the brakes. Not bothering to turn off his vehicle, he charged toward Victor, in time to see his wife heave her body into the murderous man. She knocked him over, and Victor retaliated with a hard kick to her stomach. Ethan felt the blow. Lydia curved around her wound but did not stop clawing at Victor until Ethan stepped between them.

  For a moment, Lydia wasn’t sure what was happening. She knew her husband had come, and she was safe. Then, the fire caught on the opposite side of the gazebo. So small at first, only the smoke gave away the gaining danger. Victor winked at Lydia, from the grass. Ethan cuffed him and turned to his wife.

  Victor, taking advantage of the distraction, kicked Ethan behind the knee. He leaped, still cuffed, from his seat and charged the sheriff. Lydia drew in a sharp breath. Tingles of panic coursed over her spine. She caught a familiar smell and cringed. Was that lavender? Fear battled with adrenaline. Her head thrummed, reminding her of a weapon she had on hand. It wasn’t lavender. It was the cooling tang of Kat’s peppermint oil.