Free Buzz Off by Hannah Reed Page B

her about AA but I didn’t know if I’d blow a confidence if I did. I was sure she wouldn’t have wanted Hunter telling me.
    “You smell nice, instead of like smoke,” I said, trying to give her encouragement. I knew she expected to be invited in, but I just couldn’t entertain at the moment. “Like lilacs.”
    “Hey, thanks.”
    “I heard hypnotism helps if your willpower starts breaking down.”
    “Ha. I’ll keep it in mind. Right now I’d like to beat my head against a wall. Anything to numb my brain. And my hands. I don’t know what to do with them.” She gave me a studied look. “I heard about what happened. Are you okay?”
    “I’m fine. “
    “You’re awfully pale.”
    “I’m fine. Really.”
    “Okay, if you insist.” Then Carrie Ann got to the point of her visit. “Did you figure out when I work again? I know this isn’t the best time to talk about it with a dead person in your kayak and all, but I need to pay my rent and I’m a little strapped right now.”
    I took a moment to realize how lucky I was that The Wild Clover market was doing well enough that I could hire extra help. Times were tough. The twins needed to pay for college; Carrie Ann had rent due. Financially, I wasn’t in bad shape. Although, if things had gone like Manny and I had planned and we had expanded Queen Bee Honey, my future finances would have been even more secure.
    “Come by the store tomorrow afternoon,” I told her. “We’ll talk about it and work up a plan.”
    With that, Carrie Ann took her leave and went off down the street. I wondered where she was heading—home or to the bar. I hoped it was the former.
    I went back inside and lay low, watching the world through the cracks in the blinds. Cop cars came down Willow Street and parked behind each other. Law officials began canvassing the neighborhood. A team swarmed into my backyard, staying wide of the beehives. They began searching along the waterline. I saw a deputy go into Moraine Gardens across the street. Clay’s car was next door, so he was home. The police chief’s SUV pulled up to the curb. Johnny Jay rang my bell. I had been surprised when none of the others had bothered to check to see if I was home, but now I knew—they must have been ordered to stay clear. It seemed that the police chief wanted first crack at me.
    I decided to ignore him. I was all worn out emotionally and didn’t have the strength to take on Johnny Jay in the manner in which I had become accustomed. When I didn’t answer my door, he went over to Clay’s house. My phone rang multiple times, but I didn’t answer that, either, preferring to let the answering machine take over.

Nine

    Not only are bullet points important in life, so are priority lists. My heart was heavy from the loss of Manny and the discovery of Faye’s body. All I wanted to do was stuff myself in my bedroom closet for the rest of eternity. But I still had a bee mission to complete. I didn’t want to lose them, too. Time was running out. Before long, someone was going to show up at Grace Chapman’s and take the beehives.
    So when the sun began its descent over the horizon and the cops had finished in my backyard, and when the squad cars disappeared from my street, I cleared my mind of all whiny, self-pitying thoughts and called Grace.
    “Grace, it’s Story Fischer.”
    “My sister-in-law had a few rather unpleasant things to say about you,” she said, making this one of the poorest beginnings to a conversation in my history.
    “I was upset,” I said. “And rightly so, I might add. She was rather unpleasant herself. But please, tell me about the bees. Where are they going?”
    “Someone called and offered to take them off my hands. What else was I going to do with them?”
    “What about giving them to me?” Was Grace really this dense?
    “I never thought you’d be interested.”
    Yeah, right!
    “I love those bees. So did Manny. You can’t give them to just anybody. I’ll buy them from