beekeeper. Mr. Goetz, why are you here?”
“Detective,” he insisted as he rubbed his chin. Just as Goetz started to speak again, Matt popped up from behind my booth.
“Hello,” he said looking between Detective Goetz and me. “If it isn’t the esteemed Detective Goetz.”
Goetz gathered his tomatoes. “Nice to see you both again.” He shambled off.
Matt watched him intently as the detective disappeared into the crowd. “What was that about?”
“I really don’t know.”
“Ooooh, Josiah, maybe he thinks he can win your trust and make you confess over some rum cocktails,” Matt teased.
“Confess what?” I replied in a voice that was a little too loud.
Matt laughed heartily as he leaned over and pinched my arm. His black hair shimmered in the sunlight. “The murder, old girl, the murder. I put my money on you knocking off the old buzzard out of pure spite.”
“Well, aren’t you very cheeky today.” I lowered my voice as I leaned closer to Matt. “I know that I am supposed to be sad, but the truth is I am glad Pidgeon is dead.”
Matt’s handsome face suddenly crumbled as though he remembered that he had forgotten to turn off the stove. Motioning me to be quiet, he went around the front of the table and felt under the yellow plastic tablecloth. He yanked a small black plastic microphone from the bottom of the table and held it up. We both looked at each other in astonishment.
I had just damned myself. Snatching the device from Matt’s hand, I rushed into the crowd. Frantically scanning for Goetz, I spotted him a block down tasting goat’s cheese samples. I caught up with him, grabbed his massive arm and swung him around. His craggy face registered surprise, then embarrassment as I brandished the microphone. He pulled an earphone out of his ear.
I waved the device in his face. “This is over the top, and you know it. You better have a warrant for this.”
He reached out for the microphone, but I quickly thrust it between my ample bosoms. “Oh no. My lawyer gets this first. So you want to know why I hated Pidgeon?”
Detective Goetz was quick to recover. “Yeah, I would like to know why a respectable, hardworking woman would show so much emotion about a man she supposedly wasn’t involved with.”
“Involved with?” I laughed bitterly. “You guys are barking up the wrong tree. Besides being a liar and a cheat, Pidgeon was a woman beater. Check the local hospitals’ ER records and then talk to his wife. If anyone had a motive to kill Pidgeon, it was Tellie, his wife.”
“You know this first hand? You’ve seen Mrs. Pidgeon being hit or she told you about it?”
“I know this from my own observation. Something you and your partner should try a little more of. She often showed up at the Market with bruises.”
“Miss Josiah,” he said, “it has been my life experience that observation often means little or nothing without corroboration. Things are never quite what they seem from the outside looking in. As far as you know, she could be just clumsy or be in the first stages of MS or have inner ear problems. You just have a theory without proof.” He looked away. “Are you done?” Goetz seemed offended and wanted to be shed of me.
“What do you think you have on me? You have no physical evidence to tie me with Pidgeon’s death, yet you keep hounding me. I had nothing to do with that man’s demise.” We stood facing each other like wary catamounts. Finally, fearing that I would be blamed for tampering with police equipment, I handed Goetz his listening device. He at least had the good manners to blush. The bug was really over the top
“Detective,” he insisted as he rubbed his chin. Just as Goetz started to speak again, Matt popped up from behind my booth.
“Hello,” he said looking between Detective Goetz and me. “If it isn’t the esteemed Detective Goetz.”
Goetz gathered his tomatoes. “Nice to see you both again.” He shambled off.
Matt watched him intently as the detective disappeared into the crowd. “What was that about?”
“I really don’t know.”
“Ooooh, Josiah, maybe he thinks he can win your trust and make you confess over some rum cocktails,” Matt teased.
“Confess what?” I replied in a voice that was a little too loud.
Matt laughed heartily as he leaned over and pinched my arm. His black hair shimmered in the sunlight. “The murder, old girl, the murder. I put my money on you knocking off the old buzzard out of pure spite.”
“Well, aren’t you very cheeky today.” I lowered my voice as I leaned closer to Matt. “I know that I am supposed to be sad, but the truth is I am glad Pidgeon is dead.”
Matt’s handsome face suddenly crumbled as though he remembered that he had forgotten to turn off the stove. Motioning me to be quiet, he went around the front of the table and felt under the yellow plastic tablecloth. He yanked a small black plastic microphone from the bottom of the table and held it up. We both looked at each other in astonishment.
I had just damned myself. Snatching the device from Matt’s hand, I rushed into the crowd. Frantically scanning for Goetz, I spotted him a block down tasting goat’s cheese samples. I caught up with him, grabbed his massive arm and swung him around. His craggy face registered surprise, then embarrassment as I brandished the microphone. He pulled an earphone out of his ear.
I waved the device in his face. “This is over the top, and you know it. You better have a warrant for this.”
He reached out for the microphone, but I quickly thrust it between my ample bosoms. “Oh no. My lawyer gets this first. So you want to know why I hated Pidgeon?”
Detective Goetz was quick to recover. “Yeah, I would like to know why a respectable, hardworking woman would show so much emotion about a man she supposedly wasn’t involved with.”
“Involved with?” I laughed bitterly. “You guys are barking up the wrong tree. Besides being a liar and a cheat, Pidgeon was a woman beater. Check the local hospitals’ ER records and then talk to his wife. If anyone had a motive to kill Pidgeon, it was Tellie, his wife.”
“You know this first hand? You’ve seen Mrs. Pidgeon being hit or she told you about it?”
“I know this from my own observation. Something you and your partner should try a little more of. She often showed up at the Market with bruises.”
“Miss Josiah,” he said, “it has been my life experience that observation often means little or nothing without corroboration. Things are never quite what they seem from the outside looking in. As far as you know, she could be just clumsy or be in the first stages of MS or have inner ear problems. You just have a theory without proof.” He looked away. “Are you done?” Goetz seemed offended and wanted to be shed of me.
“What do you think you have on me? You have no physical evidence to tie me with Pidgeon’s death, yet you keep hounding me. I had nothing to do with that man’s demise.” We stood facing each other like wary catamounts. Finally, fearing that I would be blamed for tampering with police equipment, I handed Goetz his listening device. He at least had the good manners to blush. The bug was really over the top
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