A Beeline to Murder

Abby was suddenly aware of the bright twinkle in those aging eyes. That and Lidia’s sweet temperament endeared her to everyone in town.

The storefront door chimed as a young woman pushing a baby stroller entered with two women friends.

“Be right with you,” Lidia called out.

Abby stood, thoughtfully chewing her lower lip. She wanted to ask Lidia a few more questions, but she’d prefer to do it out of earshot of any customers. Then she had an idea. “Any chance that adorable husband of yours is working in the back?”

“Oh, no, dear. Oliver is recovering from hip surgery. He’s grumbling away in the nursing home next to the county hospital.”

The shop door chimed as five teens walked in. Some held containers of super soda with large red straws; others carried cups of frozen yogurt, all bearing the logo of the ice cream shop several storefronts away.

A withering expression crept across Lidia’s face. After handing the earring to Abby, Lidia marched from behind the display case to address the teens. “We don’t allow food or drink in here. You’re welcome to take your treats outside and come back in when you’ve finished. Now, go on with you.” Lidia pointed an authoritative finger toward the door.

After the last teenager was outside, Lidia whispered, “I tell them repeatedly. Still, they come with the drinks. There’s a sign just next to the door there. I wish I could change the wording to read ‘Teens, small children, and pets are not allowed, ’ but I can’t very well do that, can I?”

Abby shook her head. Her heart went out to Lidia—the grand old lady was past retirement age but was still working, and now she was working without Oliver. Must be difficult.

Lidia was watching the customer with the sleeping infant in the baby stroller. The young woman, with dreadlocks tied back in a red bandanna, had removed several pairs of earrings and was holding each pair up to her ears for feedback from her girlfriends before tossing the pair aside and reaching for another.

“Oh, dear Lord!” Lidia exclaimed. “One pair at a time. That’s our policy.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “When the earrings are all laid out willy-nilly, it’s so easy for them to disappear.” She glanced up at the wall clock. “I’m sorry, Abby. I need to help that girl make her selection. I also have to close shop and drive to the nursing home to sit with Oliver while he has his dinner. He grumbles when he has to eat alone. Would it be possible for you to return tomorrow, dear? I’ll see if I can find that receipt for you.”

Sensing Lidia’s utter distress, Abby nodded and returned the earring to the evidence envelope in her pocket. “Would you like for Philippe and me to flip over the OPEN/CLOSED sign as we leave?”

“Oh, yes, dear, if you would. I’ll lock the door behind you.”

Abby plucked a business card from her pocket and handed it to Lidia. “Call me if you or Oliver remembers anything else or you locate the receipt. It’s important.”

“Of course, dear.”

Abby squeezed the old woman’s hand. “Thanks.”

From the jewelry store, Abby walked alongside Philippe as they took the shortcut through the alley from Main Street and then headed up to the church school yard where their cars were parked.

At the cars, Philippe started to say something but was interrupted by the bell at the Church of the Holy Names as it began chiming in harmonic sequence five times. He stared into space, waiting until the echo of the last chime died away. Finally, he looked into Abby’s eyes. “I hope your Lidia Vittorio finds the receipt, Abby. I think this is an important clue, n’est-ce pas?”

“Might be,” Abby replied. “If it reveals the man’s identity, we can talk with him. I want to know what misdeed he did and what the wife knows. What act could have been so egregious as to compel him to give her those earrings? Adultery? Abuse? Murder?”