Killer Confections8 Delectable Mysteries(539)

“It was an outsider,” I said. It had to be. I couldn’t imagine the Congressman, or Delbert, chawing down on a wad. And Joel was far too much of a health freak to do such a thing. Billy Dee came the closest to fitting the profile of a chaw chomper, but he was too much of a gentleman to break into anyone’s car trunk. Especially a woman’s.

“Maybe you should call the Chief,” suggested Mose.

I shook my head and practically stamped my feet. “The Chiefs off in Canada catching fish and saving his wife from going over Niagara Falls. Melvin Stoltzfus is his replacement.”

“The Melvin Stoltzfus?” asked Mose incredulously.

“I’m afraid so.”

“I heard that old bull he tried to milk will never be the same. He moos in falsetto now.”

Old Mose didn’t even have a twinkle in his eye, so clearly he believed the story. Of course I didn’t. “Mose, I think we should just try and wire the trunk lid shut the best we can and say nothing. Who knows why an outsider would want to break into Miss Brown’s trunk, but Melvin sure isn’t going to know either. So why borrow trouble, right?”

“Melvin is trouble. I’ll see if I can tie down the trunk. But, Magdalena, I need to ask you a question.”

“Ask away, Mose.”

“Can Freni have her job back? You know how she is when she’s not working.”

“Can it be any worse than when she is working?” I tried to laugh pleasantly. “Okay, I suppose so, Mose.” His face lit up. “You aren’t too mad at Freni, Magdalena?”

“Of course I’m mad, but I’ll get over it. I always do.”

“Good. You are like the daughter she never had. She is very fond of you, Magdalena. She doesn’t really mean what she says. She just has trouble with her temper.”

“Like me?”

He flushed. “I didn’t say that.”

I looked over at the field where Matilda and Bertha were peacefully grazing. “Tell her she’s welcome back anytime. All she has to do is apologize.”

Mose shook his head ruefully and headed silently for the barn. We both knew it would be a sweet-smelling day in the henhouse before Freni Hostetler said “sorry” to me.

I had just put away the last of the groceries when the first of the guests returned. The first one I saw, anyway, was Billy Dee, who came bounding into the kitchen in search of something cold to drink. Having been in the woods definitely seemed to agree with him.

“I take it their protest was not successful then?” I asked, as I handed him a glass of Bertha’s milk. Or was it the shy Matilda’s?

“Heck no, Miss Yoder. We didn’t see hide nor hair of them folks the whole day.”

“Which, of course, was none of your doing.”

“Exactly. It weren’t my fault we got lost twice on our way to the game lands, even if I was leading the way, and it certainly weren’t my fault we parked on the opposite side of the ridge from the Congressman. And when we did go into the woods for just a bit, someone took a potshot at Jeanette.” He laughed heartily. “That really weren’t my fault.”

“Someone shot at Jeanette?”

He was still laughing. “Maybe it was a bear hunter! She sure don’t look like a deer to me!”

“Mr. Grizzle! You of all people!”

Billy Dee sobered immediately. “You’re right. I should be the last one to find this funny. I guess it’s just my nerves working themselves off. Coming up here ain’t no picnic for me. It’s just something I had to do.”

“Was Jeanette hurt?” It wouldn’t be so bad if she got hurt just a little bit, would it? Nothing serious, mind you, but just enough to send her packing.

“Hurt? Nah, she was gabbing so loud she didn’t even know she was shot at. Not till I pointed it out. Bullet came whistling right past her head and hit an old stump nearby. I dug it out.” He reached into his pocket and produced a shiny lump of metal. “Funny thing is, this ain’t no rifle bullet. This is from a revolver. A Smith & Wesson .44 Magnum, if you ask me.”

“You mean to say that someone tried to kill her? That it wasn’t a stray hunter’s bullet?”

He nodded. “Course, I didn’t tell her that. I just said there was some blind fool of a hunter in the vicinity and the wisest thing was for us to get back to the car.”

“And?”

He sighed. “And she agreed, after she’d made a few comments that I’d just as soon not remember. That woman has all the sensitivity of a brood sow in heat. Oops. No offense, Miss Yoder.”

“No offense taken. Drink your milk,” I ordered. “It’s the best thing there is for nerves. Say, you wouldn’t happen to cook, would you?”