Busy Bees

Chapter 3 – Taking Liberties

Chapter 3 – Taking Liberties“Mrs. Tracy?” I addressed the flame haired, fortyish woman standing on the doorstep before me dressed in what my mother would probably call a muumuu.

“Yes?” She eyed me closely. “May I help you?”

“I’m Sheriff Crane. I need to speak with you ma’am.”

“What is it Sheriff?”

She was standing firmly in the doorway. “I have some news Mrs. Tracy. May I come in?”

Several seconds passed before Liberty Tracy said anything or even moved a muscle. Then, slowly she leaned toward me and peered directly into my eyes. Her actions were odd and I was unnerved.

“Mrs. Tracy?”

She leaned back and then stepped partially sideways. “I suppose you’d better come in.”

“Thank you ma’am.” I could help but brush her as I passed her. I stopped just beyond her in a small entry foyer. A staircase went up to my left. Straight ahead of me was a center hall that led, presumably, into the back areas of the house and the dining room or kitchen. To my right was a doorway leading to a small living area that, in more formal times, would have been called a parlor.

Liberty passed around me and then, muumuu flowing slightly, led the way into the parlor. The room had the smoky cloying scent of incense having been recently burned. My nose twitched from the lingering smell as I glanced around. The room was clean and neat but furnished in a decidedly retro, hippy vibe style. She took a seat on a small sofa and motioned for me to sit next to her. I tipped my head in deference but chose to take an orange colored arm chair to her immediate left that faced back to the doorway we’d just come through.

“Your news, it isn’t good is it?”

Way to get right to the point... “No ma’am, it isn’t.”

“What’s happened to Ben now?”

“Now ma’am?”

She waved her hand at me. “Oh, you know, he’s been in and out of the hospital a couple of times with heart issues.”

“I see. Well, it’s something more than that this time. I regret to inform you that Ben died this morning, Mrs. Tracy.”

I leaned back and waited for the reaction and the inevitable questions and emotions. Liberty Tracy just stared back at me. She appeared to be a million miles away.

“Mrs. Tracy, did you hear what I said?” Seconds passed and then she looked at me.

“I guess he’s really done it this time.”

“Done what ma’am?”

“Lived hard enough to die.”

“Pardon?”

She didn’t answer. Instead, she hung her head and covered her eyes with her hand. Her shoulders began to shake. I just feel so powerless when another woman cries in front of me.

“I’m so sorry Mrs. Tracy.”

Her head came up. She looked at me through eyes rimmed with tears. “Libby. Everyone calls me Libby, and it’s not your fault Sheriff. Ben did this to himself.” She paused and leaned forward to take a clove cigarette from a pack on the table. I stifled a shudder as a smell worse to me than the incense scent that already permeated the room rose from the tip of her newly lit smoke. She spoke again, “Where was he found?”

I thought her question odd. “He wasn’t “found” Mrs....err, Libby. He was judging a cooking contest at the Mushroom Festival over in Morelville when he keeled over. Staff and medics that were on site weren’t able to revive him.”

“Oh, that’s right. I remember him saying something about that the last time I saw him.”

Interesting way to phrase something again...I asked the question that was left hanging for me, “When did you last see him?”

Libby tipped her head toward the ceiling and appeared to think about my question. Instead, she asked, “Can I get you something to drink Sheriff?”

“No thanks ma’am.” This woman just won’t answer a question! “I do have to ask you though, were you and Ben estranged?”

“Estranged Sheriff?”

“Separated? Divorcing?”

“Oh, no no! Nothing like that!” She paused for a second and then swallowed hard. “Ben and I, we had...had an open marriage.” She visibly shuddered then continued, “He though took far more advantage of it than I did. Sometimes days would go by before he’d come home. He always had time for that restaurant though. That’s his pride and joy...was his pride and joy, I guess I should say.”

“So, Ben hasn’t been home lately?”

“I guess you did ask me when I last saw him, didn’t you?”

I nodded.

“Well, let’s see...He was here Wednesday evening because we had a beautification committee meeting early in the evening and he never misses those. I think he must have left right after that.”

“Today is Saturday ma’am. You haven’t seen Ben since Wednesday?”

“Libby, Sheriff. Please. And, no, I’m pretty sure he hasn’t been back here since then. Of course, I’m not here twenty-four/seven. He may have been in and out to get clothes or to nap or something.” She trailed off.

Nap? “Where does he go when he’s not here?”

She glanced away from me. Again, her head dropped and her shoulders began to shake. I could see that I wasn’t going to get any further with that line of questioning and, really, I didn’t suspect any sort of foul play so questioning her as she grieved - or felt whatever it was that she was feeling - wasn’t really necessary.

“Libby, is there anyone I can call for you?”

She sniffled and looked back up at me. “I’ll be okay Sheriff. I need to pull myself together and start calling Bens family. Can I see you out?”

I was being dismissed. “No ma’am; that isn’t necessary.” I stood. “I do have to let you know though that coroner is doing an autopsy. He thought it best since Ben passed away while doing a food judging. It’s just a formality.” She did say he had heart problems... “I’ll be back in touch myself as soon as Ben’s body is released.”

“How long do you think that will be Sheriff?”

“It’s not usually more than a day or two.”

“All right then.”

I let myself out. As I walked away from the house a sense of foreboding overtook me. I blew out a breath and tried to shake the mental cobwebs from my head. I didn’t have any way of knowing what was to come and dwelling on it wouldn’t clarify anything for me.