Page 61 of Murder on the Boardwalk

“Do you believe that?” Kelly groused. “Five minutes ago, he was bitching about picking fruit, and now he’s gone off to build a place to sell it. And men say women are impulsive.”

“I want to see what they come up with in less than two hours.”

“Yeah. What kind of farm stand is thrown together in that short of time?”

“If you think they’ll finish this tonight, you’re delusional. Besides that, you don’t know Lucien. First off, he’ll discover he doesn’t have all the wood he needs. Then there’ll be the obligatory run to the hardware store to buy supplies he doesn’t have on hand. And once he walks through those doors, he’ll spend two hours putzing around, walking down every aisle looking at stuff.”

“Are you saying Lucien likes to shop?”

“I’m saying he’ll get distracted by something shiny he doesn’t already have in his workshop.”

Kelly snickered. “That’s so Beckett. In the meantime, what do we do with our harvest? There’s a lot of stuff here.”

“We figure out what to use for dinner. Then we load up the rest to take to the food pantry at the church. Seth and Ophelia will dole it out to whoever needs it.”

“What will the guys put in their food stand?”

Brogan threw out her arms. “There’s still an entire half-acre full of fruits and vegetables left to harvest. But before we make plans, let’s see if they finish something by Thanksgiving.”

Beckett had no intention of waiting that long. He got to work hunting down extra lumber within Lucien’s stash, pulling out the sturdiest pieces he could use as a base.

While Beckett selected the wood, Lucien lined up all his power tools and battery chargers on the worktable. Like a surgeon preparing for a major operation, he placed drills and saws within easy reach and set out goggles, hammers, and a bin of screws, nails, and staples to get the job done.

After taking measurements and discussing the overall size needed, Beckett drew up a rudimentary sketch of his vision. With Lucien in agreement, they got down to business. The whirring sound of the table saw took over any conversation, their focus on the project at hand.

Outside in the orchard, Brogan heard the distinct whirring of the table saw. “Hmm, it doesn’t appear either one is leaving on a mission to the hardware store any time soon.”

“That’s a good sign,” Kelly said, eyeing one of the overripe apples thrown into a reject pile. It looked okay to her, so she wiped off the dirt on her jeans before biting into it.

“It’s early yet. I’m not convinced Lucien hasn’t realized he’s out of something—nails, the right kind of screw, a new sawblade—some reason to go to the hardware store.”

“But it’s a fruit stand. How hard could it be to put together?” Kelly remarked, tossing Brogan an apple from the mound of fruit before plopping onto a wooden crate to eat hers.

“You still need the right kind of screws and nails. It doesn’t have to look like a work of art, though. But when Lucien gets started and sets his mind to creating something, I guarantee he won’t settle for anything average.”

“Beckett’s a bit of a perfectionist, too, which is why I see your point. We could be waiting until Thanksgiving.”

Brogan leaned against the side of the shed and bit into the apple. The sound of a saw roared through the air again as she munched and crunched her way to the core. She studied the discard pile again, rethinking its purpose. “Those apples would be great for jam or jelly.”

“Do you know how to make jelly?” Kelly quizzed. “I have an aunt who comes from pioneer stock. She does that sort of thing all the time. She’d take all this in a heartbeat and have it turned into a dozen jars of winter jam by nightfall.”

Brogan pawed through the basket of rejects. “These are salvageable. See? I should learn how to utilize all the harvest, not just some of it. I bet Jordan Harris would know someone who could show me how to make jam.”

“That’s an idea. I wouldn’t mind learning myself. You know, self-sufficiency for the future and all that. But I’m not the one with the bulging garden full of fruits and vegetables. The only thing I know how to grow is kelp. And that’s not exactly an ordinary, everyday product. How do you manage to get your trees to fruit so fast? I thought most fruit trees needed five years.”

Brogan looked out among the orchard with pride. “Lucien had already planted rows of them by the time I arrived in town. After that, we bought adult trees—lemon, apple, peaches—you name it. They came wrapped in these huge root balls. The night these arrived, we spent hours digging holes and planting them in the ground, scared to let them sit for too long, afraid they’d wilt or worse, die.” The memory made her smile. “He really did have quite the vision for this place. I’m afraid I’ve let him down. I should’ve prepared for this eventual harvest better.”

“It’s not too late. You’re donating what we picked today. That’s huge.”

“But they’ll be more ripe fruit by the end of the week,” Brogan pointed out. “Let’s start loading these baskets into the SUV and start supper. That apple made me hungrier.”

But before they could finish loading, the workshop doors swung open. Lucien waved and beckoned them over to the outbuilding. He pointed to an eight-by-four wooden cart. “What do you think? Beckett got this brilliant idea to put together an eight-foot-long table. We borrowed the wheels from my wheelbarrow to make it portable. That way, it doubles as an outdoor tableanda movable cart to use by the roadside.”

“Oh ye of little faith,” Beckett announced, running his hand across the rough-hewn wood. “It’s sturdy enough to use year-round.”

A skeptical Kelly skirted all four sides. “How rickety is it?” She asked, testing it with her weight. “It looks like it could hold all the heavy fruits, including a few vegetable baskets. I’m actually impressed. This isn’t bad. Take a look, Brogan.”

Brogan noted the beautiful color of the maple wood he’d used. “I think it’s awesome. I told Kelly you’d make something extraordinary.”

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