Drizzled with Death(69)

“Well, what brings you by this morning?” Roland waved his big hand in front of his florid face, and I hoped the color was due to the heat of the fire and not another bout of high blood pressure. I didn’t want to say anything to push him over the edge.

“I’ve been thinking about my business.”

“That’s the plight of the small business owner. You don’t realize it is going to consume you entirely. There ought to be a health warning when you file papers with the state to go into business for yourself.” Roland turned a bit of sizzling brush over with his stick and sparked a blaze.

“I’m sure you can imagine the news about Alanza hasn’t been too helpful for a company like mine.”

“Even when she’s dead, that woman is still messing things up for people around here.” Roland shook his head like a person who had seen too much in his time.

“I’m hoping things will get back on track for Greener Pastures just as soon as this whole mess gets cleared up about who was really responsible for putting the poison in the syrup.”

“Good attitude. I hope you find a way to turn things around. A good reputation is the best thing a company can have.”

“I hoped you’d say that. I have been thinking of some ways to bring people into the sugarhouse so they can see our operation firsthand and get to find out how clean and wholesome the place is, not at all the sort of place to worry about buying edibles. And that’s where I thought maybe you could help.”

“What is it that you need?”

“I thought since you guys are so popular at the Griddle and Fiddle, I might be able to convince your band to play at Greener Pastures at sugaring time. You guys really draw a crowd.” So maybe that was stretching things just a little, but they did sound good and he would have a hard time not feeling kindly toward me after I had slathered all that butter on him.

“I don’t know about drawing a huge crowd, but I like to think we are competent enough and our hearts are in the right place.”

“Don’t be so modest. You guys are the favorites every month at the Griddle and Fiddle. Dean tells me you even have a regular rehearsal schedule. That takes a commitment to your craft that goes above and beyond the casual players that account for most of the performers at the Stack.”

“I never thought of it that way. I guess we do make it a priority more than some.”

“And your efforts seem to really stick even when you don’t have the chance to get together. Like last Friday night.” Not the smoothest of segues but eventually I needed to get to the point or just get on home instead.

“We did practice last Friday night. We practice every Friday night.”

“But not this Friday. Dean told me you canceled and so they didn’t have practice.” Roland stabbed the stick he was holding into the center of the smoldering pile with enough savagery that it seemed he was imagining Alanza in there somewhere toasting to a crisp.

“No. Not this Friday. And I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t say anything about it to Felicia.” Well, that was just getting better and better.

“I can’t promise something like that until I know what you were doing instead. You had a serious bone to pick with Alanza and that was exactly when the syrup was being poisoned.” Roland gave me a long look.

“You really do have the makings of a ruthless businessperson inside that diminutive package.”

“Thanks, I think. So where were you?”

“At a bar.”

“At a bar?” I felt sick to my stomach. Was every marriage I admired on the brink of disaster? “With another woman?”

“No. Nothing like that.”

“So why can’t Felicia know?”

“I’ve been in AA for years. We always had the plan to open an inn, but Felicia finally told me one day that she was not going to go down that road to her dream life with a guy too drunk to help. If I wanted it, I was going to have to clean up and stay that way. When I hit five years’ sobriety, we celebrated by purchasing this place.”

“So what were you doing at the bar?” I held my breath. I didn’t think I wanted him to answer. Five years’ sobriety before the inn purchase plus the six since they bought the place was a long time to toe the line. I’d hate to know he blew it.

“I was sitting in my car trying to talk myself out of going in to drown my sorrows and to forget all about Alanza.”

“Did you go in?” It wasn’t going to be good for his drinking or his promises to his wife, but if he had been spotted in the bar, it would at least give him an alibi for the time the syrup was being poisoned.