The Beekeeper

Chapter 29

CHAPTER 29

ARLOW

Today is the day we’ve been waiting for and dreading. It’s been a week and the deadline scrawled onto the note has come. Despite being on edge, the time has passed without any further trouble. More than anything, I want to think they’ve given up. That they saw we ignored their instructions and called the police, but that feels too good to be true.

Calli has stayed right by my side the way I asked her to, but I’m already afraid of the day when our internet is restored, and she returns to her cabin. I’ll never trust she’s safe. What’s the alternative? That she moves? I’m sure she’s considering it though she hasn’t mentioned it to me again.

My head is all over the place, especially since Earl’s death. He warned me not to end up like him, but I didn’t realize how alone he really was until now. It has me seriously rethinking everything. I’m torn between what’s right and what my heart desperately wants—the beautiful, caring woman asleep upstairs.

A sharp knock at the door drives me to my feet, and I touch my gun, reminding myself it’s in its holster before looking out the peephole to see two officers.

“Mr. Shaw.” Officer Anderson nods at me. “We have some follow up questions for you and Ms. Barnes.” I’m disappointed to see that Officer Fulton accompanies him. The same one who wouldn’t listen to Calli before.

“Come on in.” They follow me back to my kitchen where I gesture for them to have a seat at the table, then sit across from them. “Calli isn’t available at the moment, but what can I do for you? Have you traced the account number to a name?”

“No, but we’ve had a hit on some fingerprints,” Officer Anderson informs me.

“From the cabin?”

Officer Fulton replies before he can say any more. “When we collected the evidence from your front door, you assured us that neither you nor Ms. Barnes had touched it, correct?”

“That’s right.”

“Not the knife or the paper?” he presses.

“No, all I did was take a picture in case it fell or blew away before you arrived. No one touched it.”

Officer Fulton glances over at his partner with a satisfied smirk. “Two clear fingerprints were found on the handle of the knife. Both belong to Calli Barnes.”

He seems to think he’s dropped some huge bombshell and stares at me while I search my memory of that night again. She didn’t touch that knife. She reached for it, but I caught her hand. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“How long have you known Ms. Barnes?” Officer Anderson asks.

His tone is diplomatic—unlike Fulton’s—but I don’t like where this is going. “Since June. What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

“Wise up, Mr. Shaw,” Officer Fulton blurts. “Your little neighbor girlfriend is playing you. I’d bet every dollar I have that we’ll find her name, or someone associated with her on that account. She found out you had money and is playing the damsel in distress while you protect her. Has she suggested you just send the money yet?”

I’m sure they judge my silence as shock, but it’s rage that I’m trying to suppress. “Calli had nothing to do with this. Have you even looked into Chris Handleman or Carl Becker? Called to see if his parole officer ever heard from him? Figured out what cars they might be driving or if they’re in our area? You haven’t tracked the account number. Have you done anything that even comes close to helping us or are you only here to accuse her?”

Fulton is on his feet, his fat cheeks growing pink. “You don’t get to tell us how to do our jobs. We’re asking the questions.”

“Not anymore. We’re done. You’re clearly not interested in figuring out who is targeting us, only in trying to pass the blame to an easy target. I will not be answering any more questions without a lawyer and I can assure you Calli won’t either.” She’s going to be devastated to find out nothing is being done. We’re on our own.

Officer Anderson intervenes, also rising to stand. “We aren’t here to make accusations. Your fingerprints and Ms. Barnes were collected to differentiate your prints from any that couldn’t be explained. You claim she didn’t touch the knife, but her prints say otherwise. Can you offer an explanation for that?”

“No, but considering her net worth is higher than mine, I sure as fuck don’t believe she’s after my money.”

That revelation seems to catch them both off guard. Of course, Calli doesn’t present herself like she has money. Her car is new, but it’s a mid-range sedan. Nothing fancy. She rents a cabin instead of owning a home and doesn’t dress in designer clothes or flaunt any kind of expensive jewelry or belongings.

Fulton narrows his eyes at me, doubt permeating his statement. “You’re a multi-millionaire.”

Officer Anderson interrupts again. “Do you have a reason to believe she has comparable wealth?”

“Yes. She told me.”

Fulton laughs and shakes his head as Calli appears in the doorway behind him. Her hair is mussed and she’s still wearing the pajama pants and camisole she slept in.

“What’s going on?”

I hold up my hand before the officers can speak. “Don’t answer any questions. You need a lawyer.”

Her brow furrows. “What? Why?”

“You claimed that you never touched that knife in the door, correct, Calli?” Officer Fulton demands, facing her and crossing his arms.

Her puzzled gaze bounces from me to the officer a couple of times, and I can see anger bloom in her eyes. “Yes, that’s correct, Chester .”

“It’s Officer Fulton,” he replies through gritted teeth.

“And I’m Ms. Barnes.” Calli stands firm and returns his glare, refusing to be intimidated.

“Your fingerprints were found on the knife,” Officer Anderson tells her. It seems like the tension is getting to him. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“That’s impossible.” Calli blinks multiple times, looking at the floor while she ponders what she’s just been told.

“Do you have an explanation of how your prints got on the knife if you didn’t put it in the door nor touch it afterward?”

She shakes her head, then looks up. “Wait. Do you have a picture of the knife?”

“Not on hand, but it has been photographed as evidence.”

“I do,” I volunteer, scrolling through my phone. “I took it as she called you.”

Calli accepts the phone and zooms in. “It’s hard to tell from that angle and it’s kind of dark, but I think that’s the same knife that was stolen from my car during the break-in. I used to keep it in my glove box.” She looks up at Officer Anderson. “I reported the theft when my window was broken.”

“That’s convenient,” Officer Fulton says.

Calli doesn’t rise to the bait, choosing instead to address Officer Anderson. “I didn’t put the knife in the door. If my prints were on it, they must be from before it was stolen. Do you have any other news for us or is that it?”

“Mr. Shaw has told us you would have no need for money. Would you be willing to share your financial information to corroborate that? We can clear up this misunderstanding and move on with the investigation.”

Calli doesn’t hesitate. “No, clearly Officer Fulton has some issue with me, and I won’t be laying my personal information out for him to peruse. Get a warrant. We’re done here. If you have more questions, I’ll come in with a lawyer.”

“That’s fine,” Officer Fulton says, tossing a smart assed grin our direction. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the trouble stops now.”

Calli waits in the kitchen as I escort them out.

When I return, she’s sipping on a coffee and pulling a small dish of honey from the microwave. “Do you want some honey on toast?” she asks, putting two slices of bread into the toaster.

“No thanks.” I hook my arm around her, pulling her back to hug her from behind. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” She pats my arm and lets me hold her a second until the toast pops up.

Releasing her, I lean against the counter. “I think we should get a lawyer on retainer in case they come at you again. And we’ll hire our own investigator to help us figure out who’s doing this to us.”

“Do you think someone could’ve figured out that you’re Nameless? A crazy fan or something?”

“I don’t think so, but I suppose it isn’t impossible.” I hate how stressed out she looks. “Let’s go out this afternoon. Let me take you to a movie or shopping. Whatever you want.”

“Are you sure? It’s been a week. If shit is going to start again, it’ll be soon.”

“I know. We’ll get back before dark.”

Her smile is worth any amount of risk. “I’d like that. First, I want to show you something.”

She leans on the counter beside me, showing me her phone. “This isn’t everything, but it shows some of my investment accounts.”

“Hey.” I avert my eyes and look into hers. “I don’t need to see that. Do you think I don’t believe you?”

“No, but…I need you to see it. I won’t stop overthinking it if I don’t show you that I don’t need anyone’s money.”

“I could kick that cop in the fucking nuts,” I grumble and let her scroll to show me her substantial accounts.

She chuckles, setting her phone down to retrieve the honey and a spoon. “I was tempted.”

As she drizzles the honey onto her toast, a bit drips onto the back of her other hand. Without a thought, I pull her hand up to my mouth and suck it from her skin. She freezes for a moment. The way her lips part and her cheeks redden has me hard in seconds. Nothing sexual has happened between us in the last week but there’s only so long I can fight it. We’ve both been under so much stress and pressure. We need a release.

She agrees, judging by her next move. With a little grin, she dips her finger in the dish of warm honey and holds it out to me. Before I can move, she pulls it back and lets a few drops fall on her neck. It runs in a rivulet down to her collarbone as she sucks the rest of it from her finger.

She gasps when I grab her hips and lift her onto the table, my tongue catching the honey and following it back up to her neck. She tilts her head as I lick away every trace from her skin. I pull her shirt off and press on her shoulder. “Lie back.”

“Here?” she chuckles, when I slide her pajama bottoms off as well, leaving her lying bare on my kitchen table.

I pick up the bowl of honey, testing the temperature with a fingertip. Hot but not too hot. Perfect. “You started it. Now you’re just going to have to wait for me to finish eating.”

“You’re the one who…mmm.” Her argument disintegrates as a drop of honey hits her nipple.

“Does that feel good?” I let another few drops fall, then move to cover the other nipple in the sweet warmth before dripping it down her stomach. She looks up at me, her chest rising and falling faster when I push her legs apart to trail honey on the inside of each thigh.

It suddenly strikes her that she’s the only one naked. “Take your clothes off.”

“You aren’t in any position to be giving orders here, darling. Come for me, and then we’ll see.”

It feels amazing to have her like this, open and vulnerable to me. Leaning over, I kiss her, tasting the honey on both our lips. She closes her eyes when I take her nipple into my mouth, lapping and sucking away the thick sweetness.

I take my time, moving from one breast to the other and back again, loving every little moan and breath from her. Her stomach jumps as I trail my tongue down it, making me grin. She’s ticklish.

“Arlow,” she breathes, when I move to her inner thigh.

“Patience,” I murmur. Damn, I love teasing her. I want to tie her to my bed and keep her squirming under me for hours. Her skin is soft and warm under my tongue. I could do this forever. When I get to her other thigh, I can’t resist sucking just hard enough to leave a mark.

The way she melts for me is so satisfying. She has no idea what’s in store for her as I slowly get her to relax then cover her clit with my mouth. Her hips jerk upward, but I lock my arms around her thighs as she cries out.

Without mercy, I lick and suck at her. Curses spill from her lips. She pulls my hair, wriggling and groaning. It drives me fucking crazy. In no time, she’s gripping the edges of the table and calling my name while her pussy pulses under my tongue.

“Oh, stop!” she demands as the spasms turn to sensitivity.

Standing up, I wipe my mouth and take a second to look at her. Her red cheeks and glassy eyes. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. I strip my clothes off, intending to take her where she lies, but she hops off the table and pushes me back down to sit in the kitchen chair.

Without a word, she straddles me, sinks down on my cock and proceeds to fuck the hell out of me. Her hands are in my hair, her tongue diving between my lips as she rides me. I’m desperately trying to hold off so she can get a second one but I’m losing the battle. She feels so fucking good.

She tugs my hair, pulling my head to the side and her hot breath is in my ear. “Are you going to come for me now, Arlow?” she asks and bites my neck.

My own shout fills my ears as I lose myself completely, spilling inside of her. She stays on my lap as our hearts and breaths begin to slow, our arms wrapped around one another.

When she sits back a little, our sticky bodies pull apart. She chuckles, looking down at my chest. “I don’t think honey can be completely removed by licking.”

“I’ll try harder next time.” We share a soft kiss.

She grins up at me, running a finger down my chest. “What will your bees think?”

Nobody can make me laugh like she can. No one else can make me feel like she does. Not another person in this world could take me from such stress to heartfelt ecstasy to soul healing laughter in a matter of minutes. I have to bite back the words fighting to escape. I love you. Christ, I just love you so fucking much.

Her giggles light up the room as she climbs off my lap. “I definitely need a shower before we go out.”

As happy as I’d be to drag her up to my bed and take her again, if we want to get back by dark, we need to get going. “Me too.” I drop one more kiss on her sticky lips. “Let’s go.”

Calli grabs a handful of popcorn from the container on my lap. A silent giggle stays trapped behind her smile when she accidentally drops some on my shirt for the second time.

“Are you trying to cover me in butter instead of honey?” I whisper in her ear.

“Not all of us have giant hands.”

“Don’t be jealous.”

It’s been years since I’ve been to the movies. I’ve been more than happy to stream them at home. But sitting with my arm around her in the dark theater, her head resting on my shoulder, stealing an occasional popcorn buttery kiss like two dating teenagers makes me feel something inexplicable. Like I’m a real person in the real world, a world I walked away from for too long.

Calli seems to enjoy herself as well, and the peaceful smile on her face when we leave is exactly what I was hoping to see today.

“Where do you want to eat?” I ask, as we get into the car.

“Do you want to go to Lucky’s Diner? Silver’s working today, and I’d like to see how she’s doing. Plus, I’ve been craving their country fried steak.”

“Sounds good to me.”

The diner isn’t busy when we show up, since it’s between lunch and dinner time. One thing Calli and I always share is an unconventional schedule. I don’t think either of us has ever gone to bed, woken up, or eaten meals at the normal time. It’s a freedom few get—due to their jobs—and I’m grateful for it. How much different would people be without clock hands urging them to go or stay, sleep or eat?

Silver points at me when we enter and calls out, “I don’t have any apple fritters so don’t you start with me, Arlow!”

“You’d better get back there and get to work then!” I retort, and she flips me off. I think I won her over at some point.

She comes out to talk to us in our corner booth after the waitress has taken our order. “How’s your mom?” Calli asks.

“Sitting in her wheelchair in the office right now. She was getting cabin fever, and it was either bring her to work with me or push her into the road.”

Calli nearly chokes on her drink as they laugh together. “I’ll go back to say hi before we go.”

“I’m sure she’ll sniff you out before then.”

She isn’t wrong. About halfway through our meal, Mona rolls out of the kitchen and down to join us. With one leg and one arm in a cast, she looks pitiful, but there’s not an ounce of weakness in her voice.

“Silver said you were out here. How dare you not come back to the office to visit me!” she says to Calli.

“Sorry, I was going to after we eat,” I reply instead, beating Calli to it and making her laugh.

Mona looks me up and down. “Where were you when we needed something off the high shelf? I wouldn’t have tripped over that stepstool !” She raises her voice on the last words as a man wipes one of the tables near us.

“For hell’s sake, Mona, I said I was sorry. What do you want? Blood?” he grumbles.

“It’d be a start,” she replies, then turns back to Calli. “Silver told you about the cabin?”

Calli’s gaze flits to mine for a split second before she regards Mona again. “She did. I need some time to consider what I’m going to do.”

“Of course. I know we sprung it on you.”

“I appreciate you giving me first dibs though. It’s a beautiful place.”

Calli told me that she wasn’t going to inform Silver of the burglary, and clearly she hasn’t told her about anything that’s happened since, but it sounds like they plan to sell the property.

They talk for a while. I wait until Mona returns to the kitchen and we’ve finished eating before asking, “Are you buying the cabin?”

Her tongue peeks out between her lips as she hesitates. “How would you feel about it if I did?”

Is she serious? “I’d love that. Are you seriously considering it?”

“I don’t know. It depends on how things turn out, I guess. It doesn’t seem like the wisest choice right now.”

Of course it doesn’t. I have to put an end to this bullshit or she’s going to leave. I’m going to lose her. “Do you have to give them a decision soon?”

“They aren’t pushing me for one. I have some time to think and see what happens over the next few weeks, at least. My lease isn’t up until summer but I’m sure both of us are willing to break it at this point.”

Silver appears with a box full of donuts and sets it on our table. “On the house,” she announces, then adds, “Donuts, not dinner.”

Chuckling, I pull my card out and lay it on the check for the waitress, shaking my head at Calli when she tries to do the same. “I’ve got it.”

Silver interrupts her when she opens her mouth. “Let him be a gentleman about it, girl. Besides, he got his apple fritters.”

I pop open the box to find that’s true and look up at her. “They’re warm. You made them just for me.”

“I told Charlotte to make some because we were out. Don’t be so conceited.”

“I don’t know. I think I’m growing on you.”

“Like a fungus, maybe,” she scoffs, leaning to give Calli a hug. “I have to get back to work, but don’t be a stranger. I’ll call you when I have a night free to hang out soon.”

“Call me if you need anything too,” Calli replies.

“Your friend likes me,” I tease once she walks off and the waitress brings our receipt.

“Well, there’s no accounting for taste,” Calli says with a grin, grabbing my hand as we leave.

We make a quick stop at the grocery store because she wants to make a pot of chili for dinner tomorrow. After we’ve gathered all the ingredients, I pause at the baking aisle. “Do you like cornbread or crackers with it?”

“Cinnamon rolls.”

“Excuse me?”

She looks up at me and repeats what I thought I misheard. “I like it with cinnamon rolls. What do you eat with chili?”

“Cornbread is my favorite but back up a second. Are you screwing with me?”

Giggles rain out of her. “No! You’ve never had a cinnamon roll alongside chili? You’re from the Midwest!”

“I also don’t put ice cream on my spaghetti.”

“Shut up. I’ll make cornbread too.”

Our good natured argument continues in the car until we get close to our driveway. Calli sees it at the same time I do and hits her brakes.

“Arlow,” she whispers.

“I see it.” Dark smoke trails across the sky behind the graveyard. I take a moment to try to decide what to do. I don’t want to put her in danger but I’m not letting her out of my sight either. “Do you have your gun with you?”

Her eyes widen, and she nods. “In the glovebox.”

“I have mine too. We can go investigate or call the fire department first.” We’ve already decided the cops aren’t going to be an option.

“It doesn’t look like a lot of smoke. Could it be a fire on someone else’s property?”

“Possibly.” I doubt it. It looks like it’s coming from the clover field.

“Let’s go,” she says, and continues down to the dirt road on the opposite side of the church ruins. This road is barely wide enough to accommodate her car and she takes her time, careful not to get us stuck while I watch our surroundings.

It could be a grassfire or even a forest fire, but things haven’t been nearly dry enough for that to be likely. As it becomes clear where the smoke is coming from, my stomach sinks.

“Oh, Arlow, no,” Calli breathes, parking at the side of the road.

We both stare at my beehives, or what remains of them.

There isn’t a soul in sight as we walk across the field, our feet crushing the winter browned patches of clover. A sickly sweet scent hangs in the air, the last whiff of scorched nectar and honey. It’s combined with the familiar smell of gasoline.

The hives are far beyond saving, the colonies long dead. Burned alive. Rage makes my heartbeat pound in my ears.

I’ve had enough.

Calli is upstairs when I step out onto the porch to call Lee. He listens as I catch him up on everything before I get to the point of my call. “I need to find a private investigator, but I want someone who isn’t afraid to break the law to find Handleman and won’t question what I plan to do with the information afterward. Do you know someone I can trust?”

“I can make a call. Have you considered some security in the meantime? A guy to watch over shit while you keep your girl safe. It’s fucking difficult to do both alone.” He doesn’t give me a chance to answer before he says, “Give me a few minutes, I’ll call you back.”

I knew Lee would be willing to help me when I called him, but I didn’t expect to see him pull into my driveway just after dark.

He holds up a bottle of whiskey. “I’m crashing here tonight.”

“Okay, but I like to cuddle.”

He snorts as he follows me inside. Neither of us remarks on it, but I know he’s here in case things escalate tonight. I had no intention of sleeping anyway.

“Do you know there’s a storm coming tomorrow night?” he asks.

“Snow?”

“Ice, maybe snow. They’re talking it up pretty good. Calling it a shutdown storm.”

“Do you need help getting any of your properties ready?”

“No, they’re good. I’ll get my wood in and generators out tomorrow. We probably won’t get anything. You know they always get that shit wrong.”

Calli joins us in the living room for most of the evening, but we avoid any discussion of the situation at hand. It isn’t until later, once she goes to my bedroom for the night to read, that I revisit the conversation with Lee.

“Do you have someone in mind?” I ask, keeping my voice low as I pull back the curtains. The thin blinds block anyone’s view inside, but if any of the motion lights around my house or barn are triggered, we’ll see it immediately.

Lee props his foot up on his knee, leaning back. “I do. He won’t be cheap, but he’ll find out who you’re dealing with and won’t involve any authorities or worry about what you intend to do with that information.”

“I don’t care about the cost. I appreciate this. I know it probably means reaching out to people you’d rather not talk to again.”

He brushes off my concern. “It’s not an issue. You’re pretty confident this is Handleman?”

“It makes the most sense. If it is, it wouldn’t be hard to get him sent back to prison. The cops here may not care, but I bet one call to report his new address to his parole officer would do the trick.”

“Likely,” he agrees, then stares at me over the top of his glass. “But if it doesn’t, or it isn’t him, do you know what you intend to do?”

It’ll depend on who is targeting us and how much proof I can get. There’s only one thing I know for sure. “Whatever it takes to keep her safe.”

He nods his approval.

We sit in silence, letting the night deepen around us, each lost in thoughts. Mine keep coming back to the woman now curled up under my covers. I’m not being fair to her. She hasn’t asked me for anything, or for any clarification of how things might be between us but telling her I don’t want anyone to get attached to me, then spending every day with her in my arms, in my bed. What am I doing?

The answer seemed so clear to me before. I could lessen the pain of my family and never inflict that grief on anyone else. I could live out my life with nature and art and let that be enough. Except eventually it wasn’t. I hadn’t even realized I was lonely until she showed up.

Being away from my parents didn’t diminish the love I have for them, and it wouldn’t mitigate my grief if one of them were lost. Why would that be true the other way around? Have I been wrong all this time?

Calliope thinks it’s fear. A fear of being loved in a way I’ve never felt for another person...until now. Is that the truth of it? Am I giving up relationships and meaningful connections because it's better for everyone else? Or because I’m afraid?

The therapy suggestion may be a good one. It feels like too much to sort out.

Lee lives the same way, essentially alone except for his sister, but not because he’s afraid or trying to spare anyone. He told me once that no one could ever replace his wife, and he has no desire to try. If there’s anyone to answer one question for me, it’s him.

“I want to ask you something.” He looks over at me, waiting. “About Isla.”

For a moment, he doesn’t respond, only pours himself a second glass of whiskey, then sits back and gives a silent nod.

“After everything you went through, if you could go back and change things so you never fell in love, would you? Would you spare yourself the suffering?”

“Fuck no.”

His reply is immediate. Not one second of thought was required. After watching him teeter on the brink of suicide multiple times because of his grief, I’m stunned.

He looks me in the eye as he adds, “I’d go through it all again, every day for the rest of my life, for one more minute with her. I wouldn’t change a fucking thing.”

I nod, unsure how else to respond. The window to our right is suddenly illuminated by one of the outdoor lights, and both of us are on our feet to look. A deer raises its head to look at us for a second before bounding off.

“I’m going to have a look around the house,” I tell him, picking up my gun.

“Scream like a little girl if you see anything,” he replies, breaking the tension.

The night is frosty and clear. The crisp air feels invigorating. I’ve been indoors too much lately. As soon as this is over and we’re safe, I’m going to show Calli how wonderful a bonfire feels on cold nights. A walk around my house and barn reveals nothing. Everything is quiet.

I’m glad to have Lee here as some back up for tonight, another set of eyes and ears. The predicted shutdown storm will be a welcome thing as well if it materializes. It doesn’t take much to make our road impassable and it’s unlikely anyone is going to be out here fucking around in an ice storm. It buys us a few days to get ahold of Lee’s connection and put some security in place.

When I return to the house, Lee has hooked up my old gaming system and turned on some music. “All clear?” he asks, without looking away from the screen.

“All clear.”

“Grab a few hours of sleep. I’ll keep an eye on things and wake you when I’m ready to crash. I slept half the day anyway.”

“Alright. Thanks.” I’m not sure whether I’ll be able to sleep, but crawling into bed with Calli sounds too inviting.

He puts the cap on the bottle of whiskey and holds it out to me to put away. When I grasp the bottle, he holds onto it, looking me in the eye. “You haven’t lost your chance. Don’t fuck it up.”