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Coconut Cream Confession Page 4
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Page 4
Maybe she was right.
We arrived at the entrance of T.J.’s a few minutes later. We drove down the dusty road leading to the main building.
For a split second, my mind traveled back in time to my childhood. I remembered taking this trip with my father to pick up fresh fruit for Mom. He’d let me sit in his lap, while I pretended to drive his old pickup truck. As I looked around, I saw the place remained the same. It hadn’t changed a bit.
“Mornin’, ladies,” called a voice from the front. “What can I do ya for?”
Standing on the wrap-around front porch of the main building stood T.J. Montgomery, the owner. You couldn’t mistake him for any other profession than being a farmer. He walked down the steps wearing a pair of faded denim overalls with no shirt, with a white circle worn in his front pocket from his dip container.
“Is that you, Kara?” T.J. asked as he squinted his eyes and adjusted his glasses.
“Hi, Mr. Montgomery. Long time no see,” I replied
“It’s good to see you. I’m sorry to hear about your daddy. My condolences to you and your family.”
“Thank you,” I said as I almost teared up.
“What brings you to the farm?”
“I’m looking to buy some fresh coconuts,” I said. “My normal delivery person ran out, so I decided to buy from the source.
Before responding, T.J. took the cup in his hand and spit out his tobacco in it. “We don’t open for another thirty minutes. If you don’t mind waiting, I’ll get to you first thing.”
“The thing is, we’re in a big hurry this morning. My friend Star is running late for her new job, and we have to rescue Mr. Whiskers.”
T.J. raised his brow, no doubt confused by my last statement. “What’s a Mr. Whiskers?”
“It’s a long story, but we’re really short on time,” I said as I smiled, since my grandma always said a smile goes a long way. “We’d really appreciate it if you could help.”
“I haven’t harvested any coconuts for the shop, but you’re more than welcome to pick them yourselves out back. A few already fell to the ground, so you don’t have to worry about climbing,” he said as he tossed a set of keys in my direction, which I promptly dropped. “You can take the golf cart, since it’s quite a distance.”
“Thank you,” I said as I picked the keys up off the ground.
Star and I walked over to find a golf cart that I was sure had seen better days. I really didn’t care, as long as it worked.
After it stalled for a few seconds, the golf cart finally cranked. I barely pressed the gas and the cart shot off like a rocket. Star held on for dear life as we sped down the dirt road, hitting every bump along the way.
When we pulled up to the small coconut grove, Star wasted no time by hopping out of the golf cart. She dropped to her knees and sarcastically kissed the ground.
“Real funny,” I said as I turned the cart off.
“Now I know why you don’t drive,” she quipped. “I’ll give you all the car rides you want if you promise to never get behind the wheel again.”
“If you say so,” I said as I walked up to the coconut trees. “Let’s gather a few of these and get out of here.”
“One of my father’s favorite fruits was coconuts,” I explained as I walked around the tree. “When I was younger, we would pick coconuts from my grandfather’s farm in Marathon. He taught me how to pick the ones that were ripe.”
“And how’s that?” Star asked as she picked up a coconut she found propped up against the tree. “These all look the same to me.”
“The trick to picking out a ripe coconut is to shake it. If you can hear the coconut water sloshing around inside, it’s not yet ripe,” I said as I shook the coconut near my ear. “There seem to be a few over there.”
I pointed to a section of trees that bordered the tree line. Separating T.J.’s farm from the adjacent property sat a small wooded area. The area contained thick brush and pine trees. On the other side stood the Bumbling Buoy Bar and Grille.
Throughout the small woods, trails between the two properties were cleared. No doubt by drunk and intoxicated locals, making their way from the bar. “If those woods could talk,” I thought to myself.
“I don’t think I’m cut out for the farm life,” Star said as she rummaged through the mess of coconuts on the ground in front of her. “Maybe the good ones rolled in here.”
Star walked into the woods to explore. I continued picking up coconuts, attempting to find the best ones. I wanted the pies to be perfect since they accounted for my only source of income.
Out of nowhere, Star screamed in the distance. I dropped the coconut and ran in her direction.
“What’s wrong?” I asked as I carefully stepped into the woods behind her. “Did you see a snake?”
She stood in front of me, speechless, as she pointed to a clearing in the distance. Not seeing what she referred to, I walked forward to take a closer look.
Star was prone to overreact at times, so I didn’t think much of it. In my mind, it was probably nothing.
Then I saw it. Boy, I was wrong.
Chapter 8
“Holy crap,” I screamed as I looked down. My chest pounded. Nothing could have prepared me for what stood in front of me.
Star joined me as we both looked on in utter disbelief. Leaned against a fallen pine tree was Margaret Pettyjohn with an arrow through her chest. My stomach was too weak to glance too long at the wound, but it wasn’t pretty.
“Do…Do you think she’s dead,” I said as I stumbled over my words. My nerves were shot. In my twenty-three years on this earth, I’d never witnessed anything resembling a freshly murdered body. “Check her pulse.”
“Are you insane, Kara?” Star replied as she stepped back. “You never stated anything about touching a dead body in your help wanted ad. I didn’t sign up for that.”
“Fine,” I said as I reached into my purse. I squirted a few drops of hand sanitizer on my hands and rubbed them together.
“Are you serious right now?” Star said as she shook her head.
“Hygiene first,” I said as I picked up Margaret’s right hand.
Her hand felt cold as an ice cube. Nonetheless, I placed my two fingers on her wrist and pressed them gently.
“Nope, she’s dead,” I said as I carefully placed her hand back down.
Then it sank in. I jumped back, scared. “Oh, my goodness. She’s really dead.”
“What the heck, Kara?” Star said as the realization of the situation hit her as well. “Call the police.”
I picked up my phone and called the Chief of Police, Sam Martin. I informed him of the situation, and he told us to stay with the body until he could get there.
“This must have happened last night,” I said as I glanced at her lifeless body.
“Why do you think that?”
“She’s wearing the exact same outfit she wore at the City Council meeting,” I replied. “She left in a hurry after the meeting was over.”
“Maybe she should have taken her time,” Star said as she shook her head. “You know…considering the situation in front of us.”
Chapter 9
About twenty minutes later the Chief of Police, Sam Martin, arrived with Deputy Mark Johnson. Sam rushed to me and gave me a warm hug. I was sure he could tell I was shaken by the situation.
Sam Martin held the office of the Sunny Shores Police Chief. I grew up knowing Sam as my father’s partner on the force. The two of them were detectives for almost fifteen years. Because they were so close, I thought of him as a member of my own family.
Mark Johnson held the position of Deputy Sheriff and worked as Sam’s right-hand man. Deputy Johnson stood 6’5” and spoke with a strong southern accent. He was young, I’d guess in his mid-twenties.
Deputy Johnson seemed sweet on Star. But I wasn’t too sure the feeling was mutual. She did use her power of persuasion by sweet talking him during the Councilman Harmon case.
“Are you two ok?�
�� Sam asked as his face reflected concern. “What happened?”
Before I could answer, a bright blue VW Beetle pulled behind Sam’s squad car. We all stood silent as the door opened. Out of the car appeared the same mysterious man that Star and I had noticed in Bonnie May’s café the day before.
The man walked up to us without saying a word. He pulled a small notebook from his back pocket and a handkerchief from his shirt pocket. Using the handkerchief, he slowly wiped the sweat from his forehead.
“It’s as hot as Aunt Ameline’s spicy gumbo out here,” he said as he placed the handkerchief back into his pocket.
“Ladies, let me introduce you to our newest detective, Buford Dauterive. He’s fresh from Louisiana. Buford, this is Star Daniels and Kara Summers.”
“Ladies, the pleasure is all mine,” he said as he took off his hat. “Please, call me Beaux.”
According to Sam, the hiring of this new detective came straight from the Mayor’s office. With the sudden rise in murders and crime, Mayor Roy decided the police needed assistance. Mayor Roy recommended Beaux personally.
“Star and I were out here looking for ripe coconuts, when we stumbled upon Ms. Pettyjohn’s body,” I replied.
“Hmm…that’s interesting,” Beaux said as he glared suspiciously at Star and me. “Stumbled upon…That’s an interesting choice of words.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Star said as she began to become unglued.
"Calm down petunia, I didn’t mean anything cross with ya. I’m just wondering why you were snooping around in the woods, while the coconut trees are a hundred yards away.”
I noticed right away the frustration level rising in Star, so I stepped in. “The ripest coconuts seem to fall the furthest from the tree. At least that’s what my grandma always said.”
Beaux displayed a confused look. “That’s not the way the saying goes.”
“What I’m trying to say is that a few of the coconuts were close to the tree line. That’s why Star was in the area.”
“Interesting,” he said.
Sam, no doubt sensing our frustration with the brash gentleman, stepped in.
“Let’s go easy on the young ladies, Detective. I’m sure this was the last thing they expected to deal with this morning.”
Star looked down at her watch and said, “Shoot. I’m going to be late for my first day working with Bonnie May. I can’t be late. You know how she can be.”
“Believe me, I know,” Sam said as he smiled.
“Detective, I don’t see any reason to keep Star any longer,” Sam said as he turned to face me. “Kara, if you don’t mind sticking around. I just want to ensure we dot all the I’s and cross our T’s. I can give you a lift home.”
Beaux nodded in agreement.
Before Star left, I gave her the bag of coconuts I collected so she could settle with T.J. I asked her to drop them by my house on her way, as I handed her my spare key.
“See you around, Mark,” Star said as she walked away, smiling at Deputy Johnson.
“Ma’am,” he replied as he tipped his hat. His faced turned a dark shade of red.
“Did you see anything else unusual out here this morning?” Detective Beaux asked as he continued his line of questioning.
“Not at all,” I replied. “Like I said before, we discovered Ms. Pettyjohn by accident. We didn’t see anyone else in the area, just Star and myself.”
I filled out a statement and told the police everything I knew. Which admittedly wasn’t much at all.
When we finished, Sam gave me a ride back to my house. After the stressful day I’d experienced so far, I felt relieved to come home to an empty house. I planned to bake a few pies and then relax on the sofa and watch a Lifetime movie. A nice quiet night at home, alone. Or so I thought.
Chapter 10
Upon opening the front door, I darted directly to the kitchen and brought the coconuts to the kitchen counter. Finishing three of my specialty Coconut Crème Confession pies became my one and only focus. Once completed, I could relax the rest of the evening.
I walked around the kitchen and gathered all the items needed in preparing the pie.
The first step in preparing the fresh coconut involved taking a corkscrew to pierce a hole in one of the three eyes on the top of the coconut. My next step was to drain the coconut water into a mixing bowl using the same hole. In addition, I used a strainer to filter out the impurities from the coconut water.
The time arrived for me to perform my least favorite part of recipe…cutting up the coconut with the meat cleaver. The fact that I still had ten fully attached fingers was a miracle unto itself.
The trick I learned in cutting up a coconut was to hit the coconut with the edge of the cleaver, while I rotated it after each strike. Once the coconut split, I used a butter knife to remove the meat from the shell. After I removed the shell, I used a chopper to dice the coconut meat.
As I finished with the chopper, I heard a faint noise from the back of the kitchen, by the door to the laundry room. I picked up the cleaver and walked in the direction of the noise. To my surprise, a large white object sat in the corner. It appeared to be an animal carrier of some sort.
The white carrier seemed empty, but I swore I heard something. The air holes were small, so seeing inside it was impossible. Although they say curiosity killed the cat, my curiosity took over. I slowly opened the cage door.
I heard a thump as something shot out the carrier like a cannon. Imagine my surprise when none other than Mr. Whiskers stood perched on top of my counter. His eyes appeared shifty, as though he felt unsure about his surroundings.
Trying to not cause a scene, I tip-toed in his direction.
“Here, kitty kitty.”
Mr. Whiskers screeched out a terrifying meow as he ran across my kitchen counter, knocking down everything in his path. I tried to catch him, but he was too quick. He attempted to jump across the sink, but his efforts proved unsuccessful.
If he wasn’t freaked out enough, he leaped out of the sink soaked. I attempted to catch him, but only ended up getting soaked myself. He continued to run around the kitchen, destroying everything in his path.
My heart stopped as I watched Mr. Whiskers dart towards the five-pound bag of flour sitting on the edge of the kitchen counter. I ran as quick as I could as I watched him brush against the bag. The bag tipped over the edge and fell to the floor, as if in slow motion.
Unfortunately for me, I didn’t have cat-like reflexes. I reached my hand out, only to have the bag of flour brush my finger-tips as it fell to the floor. The bag exploded on impact, covering me in a white cloud of dust.
Mr. Whiskers scurried away to the living room, leaving his path of destruction and me sitting defeated on the floor. At this point, I wanted to throw my hands and give up.
“What else could go wrong,” I thought to myself.
The doorbell rang. I spoke too soon.
Chapter 11
Forgetting for a split second that I looked like the Pillsbury Dough Girl, I opened the door without hesitation. Standing in front of me smiling was Detective Beaux. The look on his face said it all, as he tried to contain his laughter.
“Good afternoon, Miss Kara,” Beaux said as he removed his hat. “My deepest apologizes for showing up unannounced, but I wanted to ask you a few follow up questions.”
Before I responded, he peeked his head inside the door. As soon as he spotted the path of destruction left by Mr. Whiskers, he swiftly stepped back.
“If this is a bad time, I’ll come back later.”
“No, everything’s fine. How can I help you, Detective?” I replied in my attempt to no-sell the situation around me. I blew my breath up to move my frazzled hair out of my face. A white cloud of flour blew out from my hair instead.
“Right this way.”
We both sat in the living room as he took his notepad from his pocket.
“A few of the locals reported seeing Ms. Pettyjohn and yourself getting into a verbal spat
the other morning at the Breezy Bean Café. How long have you two had a heated history?”
“I’m not sure you’d call it a heated history, Detective,” I said as I shook my head. “I mean…We had a few run ins when I was a child, but nothing I’d consider heated.”
“I see,” he said as he wrote on his notepad. “This feud goes back that far, eh? Interesting.”
“From what I understand, to top things off, she recently shut down your business for a health code violation. I’d bet that ticked you off a bit. Am I correct?”
“Yes…I mean maybe,” I said as the words stumbled nervously out of my mouth. Detective Beaux’s line of questioning began to feel like getting the third degree. Although I didn’t remember turning the heating pad on, I swore my seat warmed up a bit.
At that moment, it hit me. His line of questioning treated me like a suspect. I couldn’t believe it.
“Wait a minute,” I said as I sat up from my chair. “Are you trying to accuse me of murdering Ms. Pettyjohn?”
“I’m just saying trouble follows you, at least based on recent events. I’d be a pretty awful detective if I didn’t investigate all the facts.”
At this point, my frustration level was boiling over. How dare he accuse me, when he knew nothing about me.
“I need to finish preparing my pies and clean up, so I really need to get back to work. Is there anything else I can help you with, Detective?”
“I believe that’ll do for now,” he said as he stood up and made his way towards the door.
“Have a nice evening, Detective,” I said as I opened the door while faking a smile.
“We’ll be in touch,” he said as he placed his hat on his head. “Au revoir.”
I closed the door behind him, as he strolled down the walkway towards his car. I wasn’t sure what to make of him. That man walked the line between charming and downright arrogant. After that encounter, I leaned heavily towards arrogant.