Page 2 of Honey Drop Dead


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“Right down to my edible flowers,” Haley smiled.

***

Theodosia had just placed a three-tiered tray stacked with tea sandwiches on one of the tables when a woman glanced past her, pointed, and said, “Will you look at that. One of the beekeepers just showed up.” She sounded amused.

Theodosia looked over at the colony of twelve white hives where a man (she thought it was a man) in protective gear was aiming a smoker at one of the hives.

“Going to harvest some honey,” another guest said, excitement coloring her voice.

“Good thing he’s wearing that bee getup, the protective jacket, pants, veil, and whatnot,” a man said. “Dealing with beehives is quite an art.”

Now more guests had turned in their chairs to watch.

“This really is quite charming,” the man’s companion said. “It must be part of the event.”

“Has to be,” another person at the table chimed in.

Theodosia knew this hadn’t been planned. It was completely serendipitous that one of the beekeepers had shown up at this exact moment. All the same, she was pleased because it made for an exciting diversion. Especially since the event had been promoted as a Honeybee Tea and the invitations had even made mention of the park’s community beekeeping project.

Unfortunately, two tables over, Claxton had jumped to his feet again. He was suddenly spearheading a round of applause for the beekeeper, whipping up the crowd’s enthusiasm.

“Not him again,” Drayton muttered as he came up behind Theodosia.

“The man’s incorrigible,” she said. “Looks as if he’s trying to take credit for what’s really a city-funded project.”

They watched Claxton vigorously thrust both arms in the air in a V for Victory sign as the guests cheered.

“He thinks the applause is for him,” Theodosia said.

Everyone watched as Claxton puffed up his chest, practically busting the buttons on his vest. Then he turned with a flourish and faced the beekeeper.

“Great job,” Claxton called out to him. “Phenomenal project, these bees.”

He took a few steps in the direction of the hives as the beekeeper moved forward to greet him.

“You see what your city officials can do when they put their mind to it?” Claxton said loudly. “Native grasses planted in this park, all these wonderful hives. Come on over here, Mr. Beekeeper, I want to shake your hand.”

The beekeeper advanced on Claxton, his helmet obscuring his face, his smoker held at waist level. It looked a lot like a stainless steel watering can, Theodosia decided. Only with a shorter spout.

As Claxton reached a hand out, the beekeeper snapped his smoker up to eye level and a faint motorized hum suddenly sounded. Then the beekeeper aimed the smoker directly at Claxton’s face and sent a milky white vapor spewing out at him.

“Wha...?” came Claxton’s startled, garbled response as he was suddenly engulfed in a thick white cloud. Terrified, Claxton began to stumble about aimlessly, his face turning red as he started to choke. It was a dry, raspy AR-AR-AR, as if he was unable to pull in a single sip of oxygen. Then, eyes rolling back in his head, knees beginning to buckle, Claxton batted his arms frantically, as if to ward off the continuing billows of smoke.

Or was it smoke? Theodosia wondered a split second later. Because everyone in Claxton’s vicinity was suddenly coughing and choking like crazy and rubbing their eyes.

No, it has to be some kind of toxic bomb.

The cloud drifted across the tea tables, threatening to engulf everyone. Dark shapes darted back and forth as they fought to escape. Visibility was almost down to zero.

Undaunted, Theodosia covered her mouth with her apron and ran smack-dab into the fray.

“Everybody! We have to get away from this right now!” she cried. Then she raised a hand in a wild gesture. “This way!”

Coughing and crying, shouting and screaming, many of the guests were openly weeping from the toxic fumes and stumbling toward Theodosia as she tried to lead them away from the smoke.

Haley suddenly appeared next to Theodosia, eyes bleary and red, tears streaming down her face. Her cell phone was clutched in her hand.

“Did you call 911?” Theodosia choked out as she led her flock to safety.

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