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Drizzled with Death(38)

By:Jessie Crockett


“I wouldn’t respect you as much if you didn’t. It can’t always be easy to do your job, and everyone appreciates that you do it anyway. Besides, I wouldn’t want it said that you were showing us favoritism because of your relationship to the family. It would make people wonder if there really was something to worry about when they bought our syrup if the investigation wasn’t proper. Fire away.” I patted his hand and he gave me a half smile that didn’t really light up his face like it usually did.

“Tell me about the syrup and how it got to the grange from your place.”

“Well, as you, and everyone else in town, probably know, we donate the syrup for the contest every year. We actually put up twenty-five special glass bottles shaped like New Hampshire as a souvenir for the participants since Grampa always wins.”

“People were saying Alanza was giving him a run for his money until she keeled over.”

“People can say whatever they want. Grampa will be winning until he’s eating loaves and fishes with Jesus. Besides, Alanza slowed down a couple of plates before she dropped out of the race entirely.”

“But witnesses said she was starting to look dazed and disoriented before she actually fell face-first into her short stack. The poison could account for the slowdown. I’ve heard a number of people mention she could have taken the pewter pitcher from Emerald this year.”

“No one’s said that in front of me.” I was stunned and felt heat prickling under my collar. After everything Grampa and Grandma had done for the town, did anyone actually believe he would kill someone to keep winning a trophy?

“Well, they wouldn’t, now would they? But that doesn’t stop them from saying it when your back is turned or when they think they are trying to help the police find out who did it. But back to the subject. Who handled the syrup?”

“We all did. It was part of this year’s batch, of course. We filled the bottles and set them aside until they would be needed months later. They go into one of the cupboards in the sugarhouse. Then, we pulled them out along with all the larger plastic jugs that get used on the tables for the regular fund-raiser participants. Everybody helped load up the jugs and then all the rest of the family went over in the minivan to help set up the tables, put out the jugs, and to generally be helpful.”

“When was this?”

“Friday night. We always do it the night before, because that way, if there is a problem at the grange, like not enough tables or dirty chairs, there is plenty of time to resolve it.”

“So you didn’t go to the grange?”

“No. I told everyone I had a migraine, but really they were all just driving me nuts with Christmas cheer. I wanted to hear myself think without someone humming carols in my ears.”

“So you didn’t actually see what happened with all the jugs and such.”

“No. You’ll have to ask someone who was there. But it would be the same as always, I’m sure.”

“So the jugs just get left out on the tables unattended overnight?”

“Sure. Why wouldn’t they? No one steals them and there has never been a problem before.”

“But if someone could get into the grange, they could have accessed the jugs?”

“Definitely. They are just left sitting out.”

“How would the poisoner know which one was Alanza’s?”

“That’s easy. Her name was one it. All the names were on them. The bottles have a ribbon with a paper maple leaf attached to it with the contestant’s name written on it. They served as a place holder.”

“So, clearly labeled. And no one switched them?”

“I don’t see why they would. The ribbons were tied off short so as not to leave a dangling piece to drag into someone’s pancake plate. And all the jugs were identical so it wasn’t like a contestant would have wanted to swap for some reason. All of them were grade B amber syrup.”

“So the best time to take care of adding the poison was after the jugs were put in position and before the event started in the morning.”

“I’d say so. The family got home around nine thirty, quarter to ten, I think.” I remembered huddling under the cold covers in the dark and having a hard time drifting off to sleep, but I hadn’t consulted the time.

“What about safety caps or something? Wouldn’t Alanza have noticed if her bottle had been opened?” Lowell looked thoughtful and I had to think for a second about it, too, but then it came to me how easy it would be to pull it off.

“We do use caps with those twist-off lower rings that show the cap has been opened. But we don’t use an inner seal on the syrup. Maybe we should but it has never been an issue before now and the extra steps never seemed necessary.”