A Peach of a Murder Read online

  When Phyllis had put the word out among her friends that she would be willing to rent out the extra rooms, she’d had no shortage of people interested in boarding there. Until recently, there had been a fourth boarder-a retired social studies’ teacher named Susan Mallory-but she had moved to Houston to live with her daughter and son-in-law. That left an empty bedroom upstairs, but Phyllis knew it wouldn’t stay that way for long. In fact, she had already had a serious inquiry about it.

  Opening her home to her friends and fellow retired teachers was one of the best decisions she had ever made, Phyllis reflected. Carolyn was widowed, like her, and Eve was divorced … or “between marriages,” as she put it. She had been between marriages four times. Fair or not, it was somewhat scandalous even in this day and age for a schoolteacher to have been married and divorced four times. That was Eve, though. And no one had doubted her ability as a high school English teacher. She always had more students pass the advanced placement test than any of the other teachers did.

  But glad or not for the company, at times Phyllis almost regretted that she had let Carolyn move in. The woman could be infuriating. All day, ever since Mike’s visit that morning, Carolyn had been ensconced in the kitchen, claiming that she needed privacy to work on her recipe. Phyllis had yielded reluctantly-it was her kitchen, after ail-but ultimately her sense of fair play had won out. After a while, the delicious smells emanating from the kitchen had driven her away from the house. How could she hope to compete with whatever Carolyn was cooking up?

  Unwilling to surrender so easily, Phyllis had gone to the store and spent quite a, while going through all the various spices, searching for something that would liven up her peach cobbler and give her the edge she needed with the judges.

  Cinnamon? No, that was too commonplace. Cayenne pepper? No, that would be worse than the jalapenos, Phyllis had thought with a little shudder. White pepper might be interesting, but it would probably overpower the peaches.

  Finally, she had picked up a small jar of candied ginger and regarded it thoughtfully. Ginger was spicy and had a definite kick to it. It was also supposed to be good for a person’s digestion. The question was whether or not it would blend suitably with the taste of the peaches.

  The only way to find out was to try it. Phyllis had bought the little bottle of candied ginger, even though it was a bit pricey, and taken it home. When she got there, she found that Carolyn was finally. through in the kitchen, at least for now. The smells that lingered in the air were taunting, though.

  Phyllis put a metal bowl in the freezer and filled a large pot with water, setting it on the front burner. The old gas stove had become cranky and required a match to light the burner. Thankfully, the oven could be turned on without a match. She set the oven for 375 degrees. She turned an old radio on gentle jazz that played while she went about assembling the ingredients. When she had everything laid out, she took the chilled bowl out of the freezer. With a fork she mixed the flour and salt in the chilled bowl, and then cut the shortening into the flour. When the mixture resembled the texture of tiny split peas, she added ice water and combined it with the fork. Quickly gathering the dough into a ball, she flattened it into a four-inch-wide disk, and then wrapped it in plastic before putting it into the refrigerator.

  While the dough was chilling, she quickly blanched the peaches in the boiling water. Peeling, pitting, and slicing the peaches was easy after that. She then minced the candied ginger as fine as she could before adding it to a saucepan with cornstarch, brown sugar, and water. Phyllis stirred the mixture until the sauce thickened, and then added the peaches. After the peaches cooked a few minutes, she poured the peach and ginger mixture into a buttered pan, making sure the ginger was evenly distributed with the peaches. Removing the dough disk from the refrigerator, she unwrapped it and worked quickly so the dough would, not warm up. Using a floured rolling pin, she rolled the dough disk on a lightly floured surface until it was bigger than the pan. She transferred the dough by carefully rolling it around the rolling pin, lifting and unrolling the dough, centering it over the fruit. With the knife she had used to peel the peaches, she vented the crust and then sprinkled sugar on top. Into the oven it went.

  Watching the oven wasn’t going to make the cobbler cook any faster, Phyllis told herself. She was about to force herself to pick up a magazine that was lying on the counter and look at it, when the telephone rang.

  Phyllis turned off the radio before she picked up the cordless phone and turned it on. “Hello?”

  A deep male voice spoke in her ear. “Mrs. Newsom? This is Sam Fletcher.”

  Phyllis caught her breath. She had been dreading this call, because she didn’t know what she was going to do about it. She had to be polite, though, so she said, “Oh, yes, hello. How are you?”

  “1’m just fine.” Sam Fletcher paused for a second. “I was wondering if this would be a good time for me to go ahead and come over.”

  There wasn’t going to be a good time, Phyllis thought, and for a moment she came very close to telling him that something had come up and that they would have to make different

  arrangements. But then she couldn’t do that. She had always been fair, always been a woman of her word. She had made her decision, and now she would have to live with it.

  “Of course. That would be fine. We’ll be looking for you.”

  “Thanks. I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes. Bye.” “Good-bye;’ Phyllis said. She put down the phone. “Who was that?” Eve asked from the hall doorway. Phyllis hadn’t heard her come up. Carolyn was behind her. “Who are we going to be looking for?”

  Phyllis took a deep breath as she faced them. Now, as the kids in’ her classes used to say when they thought she couldn’t hear them, it was really going to hit the fan.

  Chapter 4

  “Live with a man” Carolyn said when Phyllis had explained. “Absolutely not!”

  “It’s not that terrible, dear,” Eve said. “And I should know, if I do say so myself. Of course, this is a somewhat different situation.”

  Carolyn went on. “When I moved in here, Phyllis, you assured me that you intended to have only female boarders.” “That’s true,” Phyllis admitted “That was my intention. And when Coach Fletcher expressed an interest in living here, I told him at first that I didn’t think that would be possible. But then Dolly Williamson asked me if I would at least put him on the waiting list, as a favor to her.”

  “It’s hard to say no to Dolly,” Eve said.

  That was certainly true, Phyllis thought. When they were all young teachers, Dolly had been principal at the high school and soon had been promoted to superintendent. It was a little rare for a woman to be superintendent of schools in a large district in those days, but no one had ever doubted Dolly’s capabilities. She wouldn’t allow anyone to doubt. So she was used to getting her own way, and the teachers who worked under her were used to going along with her. For one thing, most of the time Dolly was right about what she wanted. Going along with Dolly was a hard habit to break.

  “How does she know him?” Carolyn asked. “He didn’t teach here.”

  “No, but Dolly knows everyone in education in this part of Texas. So, since she vouched for him, I didn’t think it would do any harm to put his name on the list.”

  “Except that by the time you had an opening here, the circumstances for everyone in front of him on the list had changed so that they didn’t want the room’” Carolyn said caustically. “Didn’t it occur to you that that might happen?” “To tell you the truth, it didn’t.”

  Eve patted Phyllis’s hand. “I understand, dear. You just wanted to get Dolly off your back, so you told her what she wanted to hear. We’ve all been there.”

  “Anyway,” Phyllis said, “it probably wouldn’t be legal to refuse to rent to Coach Fletcher just because he’s a man.” Carolyn sniffed. “What’s legal and what’s right aren’t always the same thing. Let him sue you, I say.”

  “Go to court over it?” Phyllis sho
ok her head. “I couldn’t do that.”

  Carolyn crossed her arms over her chest and glared. “Well, then, if you allow him to live here, you may just lose your other boarders. Isn’t that right, Eve?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” Eve smiled. “Why don’t we wait and meet the coach first, before we make up our minds?” Carolyn rolled her eyes and exclaimed, “You just want to see what he looks like!”

  “Well, don’t you, dear?” “No. I don’t care.”

  “You’ll be able to see him soon,” Phyllis said. “He’s on his way over now to look at the room.”

  Carolyn swung sharply toward her. “You didn’t tell us that! You just said he was interested in boarding here.” “well, of course he wants to look at the room first…”

  “Phyllis did tell the coach we’d be looking for him,” Eve pointed out.

  “Yes, but I thought she meant later. Tomorrow, or … or some other day. Not today!”

  “Let’s not get all worked up,” Phyllis suggested. “Maybe he won’t even like the place. He might change his mind about wanting to live here.”

  “What do you know about him?” Eve asked.

  “He coached basketball and taught history at Poolville,” Phyllis said, naming a small town northwest of Weatherford. “He retired a couple of years ago.”

  “An old man, is he?” Carolyn asked.

  “No, I think he’s about our age. According to what Dolly told me, he retired so that he could take care of his wife while she was ill.”

  Carolyn’s attitude softened slightly. “His wife was ill?” “Yes. Cancer. She passed away last fall.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Carolyn murmured. “Poor dear,” Eve said.

  “That was one reason Dolly was so insistent that I at least consider letting him board here,” Phyllis went on. “She said he had been through a lot, and she didn’t think it was a good idea for him to be living alone.”

  “His children are all grown and gone?” Eve asked. Phyllis nodded. “That’s what I understand. Dolly says that he’s very much a gentleman.”

  “He’s still a man,” Carolyn said. “I don’t like the idea of having a man in the house all the time. You know how they get underfoot.”

  “I gave him my word.” Phyllis said firmly. When you got right down to it, that was all that counted, she thought. She didn’t want her friends to get upset and move out, but she couldn’t go back on a promise, either.

  She would just have to hope for the best. Things had a way of working out.

  “What’s Mattie going to say about this?” Carolyn asked. Eve said, “I don’t think Mattie will care, as long as the coach doesn’t get in her way.”

  Phyllis agreed. Mattie was amazingly active for her age. Actually, she was amazingly active for any age, volunteering at the hospital, the nursing homes, the library, and even substitute teaching at the schools. She was always going places and doing things, even though she didn’t drive anymore, and she didn’t hesitate to plunge right in when she substituted, even when the subject was something she knew nothing about, like chemistry or French. Mattie would be too busy to worry about something like a man living in the house. She was gone at the moment, in fact. Earlier in the afternoon, Eve had taken her over to the library for one of her weekly volunteer stints.

  The doorbell rang, and all three women turned to look at the front door. They stood there for a moment, unmoving. The bell rang again.

  Phyllis started toward the door. “I’ll get that,” she said unnecessarily.

  Carolyn and Eve followed her. Sam Fletcher might take one look at the three of them, Phyllis thought, and then turn tail and run. She didn’t think she would blame him one bit.

  She paused when she reached the door, and glanced through the gauzy curtain over the floor-to-ceiling window beside it at the tall, lanky figure who stood there. He was built like a basketball coach and must have been a player in his day, she thought He reached for the doorbell again, but Phyllis opened the door before he could press the button a third time, feeling a little bad about leaving him standing in the late afternoon heat “Hello,” she said.

  “Miz Newsom? I’m Sam Fletcher. I called a while ago.” For some reason, the voice was even deeper in person than it had been on the phone. His face was not what could be called handsome. It was too craggy and weathered for that. His hair was still thick, dark in places but shot through heavily with silver, as was the mustache he sported. He wore jeans and a short-sleeved blue work shirt. There was nothing fancy about him. If there had been it would have seemed out of place.

  “Of course,” Phyllis said as she opened the screen door. “Come right in, Mr. Fletcher. Or do you prefer Coach?”

  “Actually, I prefer Sam.” He smiled as he stepped inside. Phyllis put out her hand. He took it without hesitation, she noted. Some men of their generation felt uncomfortable about shaking hands with women. That he didn’t was a point in his favor, as far as Phyllis was concerned. His hand was big, his handshake firm, though certainly not crushing. And he let go as soon as she did, another good thing.

  Phyllis closed the wooden door and half turned to gesture toward Carolyn and Eve. “I’d like you to meet Carolyn Wilbarger and Eve Turner, two of my boarders.”

  “Ladies,” Sam said with a nod. He waited to see if they were going to offer to shake hands, too. Carolyn didn’t, but Eve stepped forward and practically grabbed his hand. She didn’t let go quickly, either.

  “Hello, Coach,” she said, her voice practically a purr. “My, you’re certainly tall. No one would have to tell me that you coached basketball. I could tell it just by looking at you.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said.

  “Oh, goodness, don’t call me ma’am. I’m just Eve.” “I’m pleased to meet you, Eve.” He slipped his hand out of Eve’s grip, and Phyllis admired the adroitness with which he escaped. “Pleased to meet you, too, Carolyn,” he added. For a second, Phyllis thought Carolyn was going to point out the fact that she hadn’t told him to call her by her first name, but she settled for nodding and saying coolly, “Hello.” He grinned as he turned back to Phyllis. “I really appreciate you considering me as a boarder. I’ve been lookin’ to get out of my place. Well, as a matter of fact, I’ve got to get out, because the house is sold and the new folks want to move in as soon as they can.”

  “You could rent an apartment,” Carolyn said. “There are plenty here in Weatherford.”

  “There sure are,” Sam agreed. “But after living in a house all these years, I just didn’t know if I’d ever feel comfortable in an apartment.” He looked around the living room, with its hardwood floors, thick rugs, and overstuffed furniture. “‘This place, now, it looks comfortable.”

  “It certainly is,” Phyllis said. “It’s been my home for forty years.”

  “That’s what Dolly told me. She also said all you ladies are retired teachers.”

  “I taught eighth-grade history.” Phyllis said.

  Sam’s grin widened. “Another history teacher. That was my subject.”

  “A lot of coaches teach history, don’t they?” Carolyn said.

  “It seems to work out that way,” Sam agreed. “In my case, though, I was teaching history first and sort of got drafted to coach basketball. What with being tall and all, I guess the principal figured I must know something about it.”

  “You did quite well,” Phyllis commented. “Poolville’s had good teams for quite a while, haven’t they?”

  Sam nodded. ‘The kids always worked hard for me, that was the main thing.”

  “That’s the secret, getting them to try,” Eve said. “No one knows what they’re really capable of unless they try.” “That’s the way I always looked at it,” he agreed.

  “Well, I suppose you’d like to see the room,” Phyllis said. “It’s upstairs on the second floor. I hope that’s not a problem.”

  ‘My knees are a little creakier than they were twenty years ago, but I can still get up and down steps all right.” Phyllis went fi
rst, with Sam following her and Eve behind him. Carolyn hesitated; then, obviously unwilling to be left behind, she went upstairs too.

  The vacant room was on the right side of the hall, at the front of the house, a slightly bigger room than the two smaller rooms in the back. The upstairs bathroom and a linen closet took up the rest of the space on the front side of the house. The room was nicely furnished, and Sam was visibly impressed as he looked at it.

  “This would be just about perfect for me,” he said. “I’ve got a few things of my own that I’d like to move into it, if that’s all right with you, Phyllis?”

  She nodded. “Of course. If we need to move any of this furniture out, I have plenty of storage space.” She went on, “The bathroom is right next door, and there are stairs at the end of the hall that take you down to a side door and porch, so that you can come and go that way if you like. You’d also have kitchen privileges.”