A Thymely Death: Lily Rock Mystery, #4

CHAPTER ONE

Olivia Greer took a lick of her ice cream, closing her eyes to appreciate the vanilla bean flavor. Michael Bellemare laughed.

You do enjoy a good ice cream cone, he said, glancing over his shoulder to add, and it's a pleasure to watch your enjoyment.

Ice cream is a favorite, she admitted, taking another lick. Having an ice cream feels more decadent before lunch. Better get to yours or it will melt. She pointed to his strawberry double scoop on an oversized waffle cone.

He took a large bite, licking his lips. She watched him, transfixed by what she saw. He stood in front of her with his easy smile. I'm so happy we finally got together.

Here, let me get that, she offered, dabbing at a drip at the corner of his mouth. When she was done she offered a quick kiss.

What's going on over there? Michael pointed down the street where a bulldozer had been parked on the side of the road.

Let's take a look, suggested Olivia.

We've been together every minute, so much so that I've lost touch with the comings and goings of Lily Rock.

With her spare hand she took his, pulling him toward the opposite side of the street. After another lick of his ice cream, Michael spoke. I've been kind of tuned out, not keeping track of Cookie's new bakery and the new nursery next door, he said sheepishly. If you remember, we had our first date and then things got a bit more interesting, and frankly, it was all I could think about. You know, when I'd see you again.

And now you're less preoccupied? she asked, her voice teasing.

I'm totally locked into you licking that ice cream, if you must know. Michael stopped on the boardwalk in front of a gate. So this is Mother Earth... The gate had been constructed with horizontal redwood boards set with sturdy posts. On each side more fence had been built with a bit of light showing through each board, but not enough of a gap to actually see what lay behind the barrier. I like this design. Michael ran his hand over the wood. Very professional, he added.

And not your idea for once, Olivia said.

You're right. I had nothing to do with this place. Check out the signage. Right over the gate, Mother Earth had been etched into a board that looked like a slice of a tree trunk. Michael examined it more closely. It looks as if the bulldozer finished its work and Mother Earth is ready to open her doors to the public.

Olivia appreciated her last lick of the ice cream cone. She also appreciated Michael, who shoved his hands into the back pockets of worn jeans, his lean body and broad shoulders inviting her scrutiny. When he turned around he smiled, and her heart took an extra beat.

That smile gets me every time.

She stepped forward to take the napkin from his hand, then deposited her napkin and his in the trash receptacle. When she turned back around, Michael had moved down the street toward another storefront. He gestured with his head for her to follow.

Look, he said, staring into the window. Cookie told us he was up and running and sure enough, he's holding a baking class.

Olivia glanced into the window of the storefront. Several people sat in folding chairs, paying close attention to Charles Kravitz, aka Cookie, who stood behind a counter, his mixing bowl in his hand.

Next to the bowl was a canister labeled Flour. Next to that, freshly cut herbs lay on a paper towel. A wooden spoon and a whisk looked like props in a baking show.

Cookie stood behind the counter. Keen ice-blue eyes stared at his class, pausing to assess each student individually. He wore jeans and a very white apron over a chambray button-up shirt. A chalkboard rested on an easel at the end of the counter. Scratchy writing told the name of the class: Baking with Thyme—A Cookie for All Seasons.

I guess that's the class he's teaching today, Olivia said. The vibe is playful and cute.

I don't think Cookie plays. He's all business when it comes to his craft, Michael said. His audience is a bit older, not that there's anything wrong with that. I wonder if they even bake in a kitchen or if they just needed a day out?

I bet some of those people were already excellent home bakers. That's why they came to the class. Not so much to learn but to share ideas. It's good to include the retired and elderly. Otherwise they get stuck in some back corner waiting to die. Olivia's thought went immediately to her mother. She wanted to be active until the very end.

Hey, isn't that one of your Tone Rangers? Michael tapped his finger on the window. Olivia had coached the Tone Rangers a cappella group at the music academy a few months ago.

She stared at the back of the class once again. All I see are older people, no one young enough to be a Tone Ranger. I don't know who you mean, she told Michael, still looking through the window.

A movement behind Cookie caught Olivia's attention. Sure enough, a young teen, dressed in a baggy shirt over a flowered prairie-style skirt, stacked measuring spoons and cups. They watched Cookie as if waiting for directions.

I think that's Raleigh, Olivia said.

I had forgotten the name, but I think he sang tenor. Michael paused, then he grinned. I mean they sang tenor. Raleigh is non-binary, right?

They do sing tenor, she said with certainty. A bit tricky to remember they and them when my eyes tell me he and him. Anyway, let's step inside and say hello.

She reached for the door, pausing when she heard a large vehicle rumble from the street. She turned briefly to see a bus pull up next to the curb in front of the bakery.

Michael whispered in her ear, I think that's the transportation for Cookie's class. He pointed to the print on the bus. This must be the bus that transports residents from Lily Rock’s Hello Age retirement community.

I think you're right. So this probably is a baking class arranged for the people who live there. I've heard the fancy retirement communities make all kinds of opportunities for their high-paying clients to be entertained.

The door to the bus swung open, revealing a bald-headed bus driver behind the wheel. Olivia squinted in the sun. Do you know the driver?

I don't know him. Let's go introduce ourselves, shall we? He walked toward the open door of the bus and then stopped. Well look who it is.

The first seat on the passenger side was occupied by none other than Mayor Maguire. He sat on his back haunches, his tongue hanging out of his mouth. As soon as he saw Olivia and Michael he greeted them with a bark.

Olivia walked up the two steps to ask the driver, May we talk to the mayor?

Do what you need to do, the man said, sitting back in his seat. She felt his eyes following her from behind.

Before she could greet the dog, he asked, Actually I have to take a break, would you watch the bus?

She glanced around at him to find that his smile revealed a broken front tooth.

Sure, go ahead. Olivia turned to the dog sitting in the front passenger seat.

Hi, M&M. She reached to pat the labradoodle's ears. Haven't seen you in a day or two. What have you been up to, silly doggo?

The dog leaned his head into her fingers, lifting his chin for more pets as Michael watched from the boardwalk.

Olivia heard him call to the driver. How long until the class is over? You're here to pick up the seniors, right?

Yah, I'm here for them. Just a waste of time if you ask me. Nobody I brought has a kitchen, so they can't bake cookies. Want to help with the wheelchairs when I get back?

Sure, said Michael. How long will it be?

The driver looked down at his cell phone. Only about ten more minutes. We gotta load them quick because they eat at noon and you don't want to get in the way of a resident’s midday meal.

Midday meal, not lunch? asked Michael.

That's what the old folks call it. The man shrugged. These seniors appreciate good gossip and lots of food in the middle of their day.

Olivia gave Mayor Maguire a goodbye pat. She walked to the steps, moving onto the boardwalk. The bus driver and Michael were still talking. She took Michael's arm, nodding at the bus driver. He paused mid-sentence to look at Olivia, his eyes lingering. I gotta go, if you know what I mean. Be back in five. Thanks for watching the bus. He hurried away, disappearing through the partially constructed entrance to Mother Earth.

Olivia and Michael were staring at their phones when the bus driver returned. She didn't look up right away. Scrolling on her phone, she pretended to be preoccupied with her texts. If I look busy, I won't have to talk to him. Maybe Michael can handle this.

I read upside down, the man commented, watching Olivia closely. It's a gift of mine. Looks like you've got a few texts there.

Michael took over. I see the Lily Rock mayor is riding with you. If you're new to town, you probably don't know about him.

The driver dragged his eyes away from Olivia and her phone. He offered up his hand to shake with Michael. I know the dog, but I don't know you.

I'm Michael Bellemare and this is my girlfriend, Olivia Greer. We live in Lily Rock. And your name is? asked Michael.

Carl Million, but everyone calls me Flex.

As if to prove ownership of his nickname, Flex held both arms in the air, bending at the elbow. He flexed his exposed biceps in the sleeveless T-shirt. Muscles rippled up and down both arms.

I can't believe a guy in his fifties would actually flex his muscles for another man. Michael will have an opinion about this later.

She looked over to Mayor Maguire, who continued to stare from the open bus window. She called out, See you later, M&M, we're gonna help get people back on the bus.

On cue the door to the bakery opened, revealing a woman in a wheelchair. Raleigh stood behind her, a smile of surprise on their face. Olivia! they called. Good to see you. Remember me…Raleigh Ulrich?

Olivia stepped behind the wheelchair to give them a hug. Of course I remember you, Raleigh. You and your marvelous tenor voice. What are you doing here at the cooking class?

Raleigh looked around, eyes stopping on the Hello Age bus. I'll fill you in as soon as I get Mrs. Green in her seat. Be right back. They pushed the wheelchair toward the bus. Olivia held the bakery door open as a person with a walker came closer. The elderly woman wore a small waist bag, her gray hair closely cropped.

Such a nice young girl, the woman commented, pushing past Olivia.

Michael waited for the woman to roll the walker forward out of the doorway. I'll see who else needs help, he told Olivia over his shoulder.

I'll just hold the door, she added with a grin. I wonder what happened to Flex?

After Michael and Olivia assisted the five remaining seniors onto the bus, he stayed behind to wait for Flex while she walked into the bakery entrance. Cookie Kravitz came around the end of the counter, wiping his hands on the front of his white apron. Well look who's here, he said with a big smile. I saw you both at the window but didn't want to abandon my class.

Olivia heard the bell above the door jingle as it closed behind her. Standing in the middle of the bakery, she examined it, checking out every nook and cranny. The carefully placed tables and chairs, each more distinct than the next, caught her eye first. You've been antiquing, she commented to Cookie.

He smiled, watching her appreciate his choices.

Olivia kept commenting. I like the way you took all of these tables and chairs and refinished them in the same oak stain. They look intentional but not the same. She turned to face him. Thyme Out is a great name for a bakery.

Since I bake with herbs and spices, it felt suitable. I like that play on words. What do you think?

It works, especially with the new place next door. Mother Earth and Thyme Out—very Lily Rock.

Yeah, about the lady next door, Cookie started. Then as if thinking better of it, he changed the subject, a vague look coming to his eyes.

Cookie has some opinions about that woman.

Before Olivia could ask, Cookie cleared his throat. The Mother Earth owner did a lot of work taking out dirt, adding dirt, taking out trees, adding trees. I'm kind of curious how things ended up.

I haven't met her, said Olivia. I'd like to know if she's planning on a nursery or a garden, or a venue that looks like a combination of both. She got her plans past the town council. That's amazing considering the people here hate any tree being removed.

I know, I learned that the hard way. Cookie nodded. I got rid of a large overgrown bush in the parking lot behind the kitchen, and you would have thought I'd stolen a puppy from Mayor Maguire and sold her on the black market. Big brouhaha. We finally worked it out. I planted four smaller bushes to replace the ugly old one.

I bet Meadow convinced the town council planning committee to let this one go, Olivia remarked. She's often the most rational of the Old Rockers.

I believe it was Meadow who helped negotiate the impasse. Funny the old townies call themselves the Old Rockers. They must have been something back in the day.

A shrill voice interrupted Olivia's laugh.

Help me! Come quick.

A woman stood in the doorway of the bakery, frantically waving her arms in the air. When Olivia and Cookie turned to look at her, her eyes landed on Cookie. I need a man. There's a dead… She burst into tears.

CHAPTER TWO

Cookie took the woman by the elbow. Show me where, he said urgently. I'll come help.

Olivia raced out of the door. There's a problem! she called to Michael just as the Hello Age bus closed its doors and pulled away from the curb.

The frantic woman turned around to yell at the driver, Come back! You've left someone behind!

When Olivia realized what she was saying, she waved her arms in the air to stop Flex Million. Hydraulic brakes hissed, the doors swung open, and Flex appeared in the open doorway. What's going on? he asked, a look of annoyance on his face.

That lady, Olivia pointed to the woman, says you've forgotten one of the residents.

I counted everyone, he insisted. Give me a minute. Flex stepped back into the bus. Olivia watched him walk up and down the aisle, taking his time.

I can't wait any longer. There's an emergency, she yelled into an open window. He hurried his pace, walking swiftly toward the front of the bus.

Taking two steps down he said breathlessly, You're right. I think I was supposed to pick up Mr. Ulrich on the way home. His daughter-in-law dropped him at Mother Earth while she went shopping. Sorry about that.

There’s a problem, Olivia hastily added. Come with me. We may need an extra set of hands.

I can't leave all those folks alone on the bus, he stoutly insisted.

Michael, who had followed her to the street, intervened. Okay then, how about this. Don't leave until we find Mr. Ulrich. Just stay put.

Olivia looked over her shoulder. She saw the frightened woman disappear behind the gate into Mother Earth, with Cookie following. Michael waited for Olivia, and they approached the entrance together.

Once inside, Olivia saw Cookie and the woman running ahead. Michael and Olivia sprinted to keep up. She led the way past the jungle of trees and potted plants.

Olivia could hear Cookie soothing the woman. It's going to be okay, he said. You call for an ambulance, I'll check for vital signs. Olivia heard the woman still sobbing.

Pushing their way through the greenery, they emerged into a clearing and found Cookie hovering over a man in a wheelchair. The sobbing woman stood to the side holding a cell phone to her ear.

Eyes wide with fear, she said, I'd like an ambulance sent to Mother Earth in Lily Rock. We're located at 222 Main Street. Her hands visibly shook. We have a senior citizen who's unconscious and we cannot detect a heartbeat.

When the call ended, Olivia stepped forward. Hello, she said softly. I'm Olivia Greer. I was talking to Cookie when you came for help… She waited for the woman to reply.

Cell phone still clutched in trembling fingers, the woman had streaks of mascara running down her cheeks. Her violet eyes opened wide, enhancing her childlike appearance. She lifted her hand. I am Echo Kravitz. I own this business. She glanced toward Cookie then back to Michael. Such a terrible thing to happen just when we got up and running.

Echo Kravitz? The same last name as Cookie. What are the chances of having two Kravitzes owning two new shops next to each other on the same street…

Instead of pointing out the coincidence, Olivia skipped over the matching last name, choosing to engage the woman instead. You've created a beautiful place.

I did it all myself, she admitted. I don't suppose anyone will visit now that my first visitor turned up dead.

Olivia looked out of the corner of her eye at Cookie, who pressed against the chest of the man in the wheelchair. Echo Kravitz feels a bit off to me. I wonder why she's more concerned about her business than the old man in her garden?

A quick glance at Echo made Olivia want to look more closely. No lines or wrinkles. Her eyes are huge. The hat covers her hair. Her neck looks older than her face, and I bet she has extensions.

Echo gave Olivia an appraising glance. Her eyes quickly shifted as she stepped toward Cookie. A quick breeze came up, blowing her hat off her head. It landed in the dirt. Yep, extensions. Look at all her hair.

Olivia hung back, watching Echo stare at Cookie.

He held the tips of his fingers on the old man's neck. Echo's hands trembled. Cookie ignored her, his eyes focused on the man in the wheelchair. Cookie shook his head in frustration.

It doesn't look good, commented Olivia.

I checked his vital signs before I called for help, Echo admitted. They may be able to revive him if they get here quickly, though I doubt it.

Were you a nurse in a previous life? Olivia asked.

No, not a nurse. I was a caregiver for my father before he died. It took years and left me penniless.

Michael, who waited a few feet away, edged closer to the two women. He stood next to Olivia and she touched his hand briefly. Now all three of them watched Cookie.

I wish they'd get here. Every minute feels like forever.

Echo glanced at Michael, her eyes lingering for a moment. Olivia watched as she nervously folded and unfolded her hands. Then Echo lifted the hair off of her neck, her eyes darting to the ground as if she'd misplaced something valuable.

Spotting her straw hat, she bent over to dust it off against her pants. Then she plopped it back on her head. She tucked flyaways from her blondish hair under the brim.

Olivia glanced at Echo's worn sneakers.

And your name is? Echo looked at Michael.

Olivia felt Michael's arm around her shoulders. He pulled her close to his body before answering. I'm Michael Bellemare, Olivia's boyfriend. He looked at Olivia for approval, a bright smile on his face.

You just started dating? asked Echo, a hint of hope in her voice.

Oh, we're way past dating, Michael said with a chuckle. And then as if he'd thought better of telling a stranger about their personal life, he looked at Olivia for confirmation. Aren't we…past dating?

Olivia shrugged. You're on your own, buddy. We have a possibly dead guy right here in front of us and you've somehow gotten into a conversation with another woman about our personal life. Have at it!

Avoiding the awkward conversational turn she said, I'm going to talk to Cookie for a minute. Disengaging from his arm around her shoulders, she stepped closer to the man slumped over in the wheelchair.

Cookie rocked back on his heels before standing to his full height. He stared at the body, then shook his head. I hope the ambulance gets here soon. Olivia watched him rest one hand on the shoulder of the motionless man, as if afraid to let go.

Hello? Anyone here? I'm coming, Robert, came a shrill voice from the front of the garden. A woman rushed from the thick jumble of greenery into the clearing. Her eyes widened at the sight of the wheelchair. Robert, I was a little late but you didn't have to fall asleep. I can explain… Her voice faded away as she stared with wide eyes at the body. Olivia watched as comprehension came over her. She screamed, Robert, darling!

Cookie stepped closer to offer an explanation. The woman rushed past him babbling, I only left him for a little bit. He's always loved gardens and he wanted to rest here while I ran a few errands in town. It took longer than I expected, but I came right back. I was going to wheel him onto the bus. I told Flex I would. Her chin quivered as she stared at the man in the wheelchair.

Michael stood beside Cookie. I'm afraid Robert may have passed away. Cookie tried to revive him. The paramedics might be able to help.

She raised a hand to her forehead. I know this shouldn't be too big of a surprise. He's suffered a decline with his Parkinson's for several years. I know it shouldn't be a surprise, she repeated.

The woman walked around Michael and Cookie to stand closer to the wheelchair. She spoke softly. Robert, it's me, Sasha. I want you to know that we all love you. She braced her hand on the blanket folded over the man's lap, leaning over to give the pale cheek a kiss.

What's this? Reaching under Robert's hand, she pointed at a sprig of greenery and a cookie lodged between his thumb and the blanket.

Michael bent over the body. He tugged at the green sprig trapped in the old man's fingers. He set the cookie aside, holding up the sprig in his hand. Is this a weed?

Echo spoke quickly. That's a member of the Thymus vulgaris species, used for culinary purposes, and one of the herbs I grow and sell. Look, you can see over there. She pointed to a raised bed where plants grew. The top row is thyme, many varieties. If you roll the leaves in your fingers you can smell the lemon. It's the perfect herb to put into the Mother Earth bag of herbs de Provence.

And that's way too much information about a twig.

Michael sniffed at his palm and then bent over to tuck the sprig back into the hands of the old gentleman. I guess passing away in a garden with a fresh sprig of thyme and a cookie in your hand isn't the worst way to go, he said.

Sasha looked away, her eyes lingering on Echo. Did you call Hello Age to let them know about Robert? Before she could answer, an ambulance siren wailed from a distance.

I hear an ambulance now, Echo said. I did not call Hello Age. I didn't know if he was…really dead. Her hand went to her throat.

Olivia’s heart thumped at the sound of a prolonged high-pitched yowl coming from the street I think that's Mayor Maguire. He's signaling the ambulance. I bet he's waiting outside the gate.

They all stood quietly, listening to the siren and the dog.

Within a few minutes, two paramedics ran down the path, a stretcher between them. Did you call 911? Is this the guy? one said, pointing to Robert in the wheelchair.

"Yes, yes, that's