A Beeline to Murder

Abby knelt and hugged Sugar. She fought back tears. Why shut him down like that with a litany of excuses? She felt like kicking herself. When had anyone as handsome and as charming as Philippe Bonheur ever invited her to his home to meet his family? Never. Not even Clay, who supposedly had truly loved her, had done this. Maybe Kat was right and she just needed to open her heart to those around her, to start having a social life, and to enjoy the men she met for as long as the relationship worked. If she didn’t get out more, there was a good possibility she’d end up alone.

The unspoken tension created a gulf between Abby and Philippe that remained as they left the farmette and drove toward town. However, as soon as they passed some vineyards, Philippe broke the silence, telling Abby that he was beginning to appreciate the provincial charm of small-town life. As he extolled the virtues of rural life from his perspective, Abby felt the tense muscles of her body relaxing.

“Really?” she said.

“C’est vrai.” He flashed one of those charming smiles at her, and she relaxed even more.

As she listened to Philippe free-associating, Abby concluded that he was considering the possibility of returning to visit her and Sugar, perhaps around Thanksgiving or Christmas. It would give him a good excuse to leave the family gallery in New York and check on their other gallery in San Francisco. He could spend part of the time enjoying her company.

“How would you feel about that, Abby?” he asked.

“Sounds lovely, Philippe. It gives me a reason to finally get the kitchen finished.” She felt happy that he’d given her a second chance to say yes to the possibility of a relationship. . . or at least to a visit, which had more to do with the birth of new possibilities than with another ending.

Abby guided her Jeep into a parking spot in front of the police department. Philippe placed one evidence box in Abby’s arms and took the other. Inside they met Nettie, who was still on crutches, and she led them to the office of the Otto Nowicki, the acting chief of police in the absence of Bob Allen.

“Hello, Abby. Mr. Bonheur,” said Otto, extending a pasty white hand to Philippe, who juggled the box so that he could shake Otto’s hand. “Kat told me to expect you two. She also laid out your theory, Abby, but we have a problem. Your prime suspect is recently deceased.”

“I heard about it. I don’t think it’s an insurmountable problem,” Abby replied. She looked briefly around the office and realized there was not a single uncluttered surface on which they could put the boxes. She set the evidence box in her arms on the floor, next to Otto’s small desk. Philippe followed her lead and sat down.

Abby knew these four walls all too well. The space had been promised to her by Bob Allen, along with a promotion, which had never materialized. “Too good,” he’d told her. She was too good at what she did to leave the streets, whether she liked it or not. The truth be told, he felt threatened by smart women in positions of authority. Chief Bob Allen made no excuse for believing as he did that only men could serve effectively as police chiefs, since men wouldn’t want to take orders from a woman. But that was then.... She didn’t need to think about that anymore.

“Heard about your attack this morning. You okay?”

“Yes,” Abby replied. “My attacker got a name?” She sat down and leaned forward in her chair. “Can you tell me why he singled me out?”

“His name is Roy Sweeney. Ring any bells?”

“I know a Harlan Sweeney, a rough-around-the-edges guy who practically lives at the Black Witch when he isn’t in his double-wide, watching episodes of Street Outlaws.”

“Well, I interviewed Roy Sweeney. He’s Harlan’s cousin by marriage on his father’s side. He’s been staying with Harlan since being paroled a month ago. Roy told us that your friend Mr. Bonheur attacked him with a rock and that he was just defending himself.”

“Well, the rock part is true,” Abby said, looking over at Philippe, who was shaking his head, apparently in disbelief. “But did he mention that he was trespassing on my property, casing it in the wee hours of the morning, that he tried to rape me, and that he threatened to kill my dog?”