Questionable Morels: Naturalist Selection, #1

By Jackie Pulpit

**First in a brand new cozy series!**

 

Fern Rivers works two part-time jobs and lives upstairs in a cramped storefront apartment with her nerdy ex-boyfriend…who also happens to be her boss. But she is on the verge of realizing her career as a full-time naturalist and will soon be able to prove to her nagging mother that she is a capable woman after all.

 

That is until one of her co-workers at the park unexpectedly ends up dead. Darren may have been preparing to retire, but as Fern quickly realizes, it was clear that someone had decided to make his exit final. Unfortunately, no one believes Fern's theory, and evidence is sparse. Relying on her instincts and knowledge of all things nature––not to mention some assistance from her trusty Sheltie––she decides to investigate alone. Not even the threat of losing her career will stop her from solving the murder.

 

Duskview Metroparks may be renown as a picturesque tourist town, but it is about to get a real scare from an individual with questionable morals.

 

** Bonus Short Story: Evergreen With Envy **

 

What could be more awkward than moving into an ex-boyfriend's apartment? When Fern Rivers decided to move back to her hometown of Duskview, she didn't imagine she'd be in so desperate a situation. But it does get more awkward when she falls victim to a robbery. Between her old boyfriend, his new girlfriend, and a small cast of acquaintances, discovering the culprit could shatter lifelong friendships.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Night Apple Creations
• Release date: Sep 1, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393793526

Book preview

Questionable Morels

QUESTIONABLE MORELS

A NATURALIST SELECTION COZY MYSTERY

JACKIE PULPIT

Night Apple Creations

QUESTIONABLE MORELS

A Naturalist Selection Cozy Mystery (Book #1)

This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this novel are either fictitious or are used fictitiously.

No part of this work may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the authors.

All rights reserved.

Copyright © 2019 by Night Apple Creations

Published by Night Apple Creations

nightapplecreations.com

Written by Jackie Pulpit

Edited by Carolyn Dubiel and Night Apple Creations

Interior Artwork by Stefanie Verish

Cover by Mariah Sinclair Book Cover Design

eBook layout by Night Apple Creations

First published: 09/03/2019

ALSO AVAILABLE

~ Naturalist Selection Cozy Mysteries ~

Questionable Morels

Parks and Asphyxiation

* Outdoor Deaducation

( * Forthcoming )

CONTENTS

1. Calamity Lotion

2. The Morel of the Story

3. Gyromitra Esculenta

4. Invisibility Syndrome

5. A Tisket, No Casket

6. Brains and Brawny

7. Raging Rivers

8. Art of the Diehl

9. Fungi and Gals

10. Alone Ranger

11. Eve of Dysfunction

12. Foraging for Clues

13. Newsworthy

14. Human Resourced

15. A Fungus Among Us

16. The Emerald Dagger

Fern’s Next Mystery

Fern’s Nature Journal

Evergreen With Envy

Acknowledgments

About The Author

1

CALAMITY LOTION

"Y ou’ve been poisoned! "

I tensed at the outburst, which came from my co-worker, Darren. I followed his gaze and looked down, staring in disbelief. Huh, poison ivy... I never stumble into that. The infamous itch-frenzy-inducing leaflets were gently kissing my exposed ankles, daring my hands to reach down and scratch. I sighed, bewildered and more than a little perturbed.

Ugh. I really need to buy proper-fitting khakis.

I might’ve been poisoned, but my death was far from certain. I stepped back onto the trail, blushing. I could feel Darren scrutinizing me from a short distance away. Frick. Like he needed any more ammunition.

Ah, it looks like you found an early bloomer, Rivs, came the pleasant yet patronizing comment. Don’t worry, it’s nothing a little isopropyl alcohol and soapy water can’t cure. But I’m sure you probably already knew that, what with you so close to becoming a full-time naturalist and all. His tongue clicked in mock disappointment.

I pressed my lips into a tight line. I hated that nickname. But I forced myself to turn my frown into a smile by the time I turned to face my fellow naturalist.

At least Qilin stayed on the trail. Darren winked, showcasing his crow’s feet.

Sighing, I locked gazes with my attentive sheltie, who was sitting beside Darren, and ruffled the dog’s flowing bi-blue coat. Yet you love rolling and playing in mud, I said, shaking my head. Too smart for your own good.

Troublemaker, that one, Darren said of Qilin. I think she purposely herded you into that patch. He chuckled.

I offered my best eye roll, but I couldn’t deny that my dog was notorious for poking her pointy nose into unwanted areas—human rear ends being one of them.

Here, Darren said, stepping toward an ivy-free area. I’ll hang that for you. He deftly snatched the small blue placard from my grasp in passing and began to hammer it at his eye level into the white oak. "With me being of a normal human height, he began with a smirk, I feel it’s my civic duty to hang this trail marker above such a dangerous patch of poison ivy."

"Toxicodendron radicans," I muttered.

Darren ceased his pounding and looked over his shoulder. "Don’t you mean ‘Rhus’?"

I reached into my backpack and removed my trusty nature journal, thumbing to the appropriate page. I tapped my index finger on the rough ink sketch I had drawn some time ago. My eyes settled on the necessary information jotted on the page to properly identify the plant in question. "Rhus radicans is an older nomenclature. Toxicodendron is the current species name for poison ivy." I shut the worn leather book and stuffed it back into my pack.

‘Hairy rope, don’t be a dope,’ Darren recited cheerfully, wiping sweat from his furrowed brow. He finished hammering the nail and turned to me with a raised eyebrow. Are you saying my terminology is as old and outdated as I am?

Not the old card again. Well, you are retiring, aren’t you? I blushed, surprised by my own remark.

Darren’s eyes went wide, and he laughed aloud. Well, well, well! You’re finally learning, Fern. Those years away from Duskview helped you to grow. He pointed the handle of the hammer at me for emphasis. I just might make a naturalist of you before I go walking off into the proverbial sunset.

He didn’t really answer, I thought, smiling in response. I subconsciously reached down to scratch my poisoned shin.

Darren’s eyes followed my hand and sighed. Or not. He winked. Chop-chop, Rivs! he called over his shoulder. These placards aren’t going to hang themselves.

I stared after him, then glanced up at the blue diamond-shaped plate he had affixed to the tree. A part of me wished I could swipe the trekking pole from the hiking stick figure and swat some manners into Darren.

Qilin nosed my calf. Don’t you have morels to find? I asked the sheltie, but the dog only tilted her head in response.

A double buzz emanated from my back pocket, and I slipped out the phone as I made my way toward a whistling Darren. The text was from my boss, Winona. ‘Meeting starting soon,’ I read aloud to myself. What’s the big rush? It’s not like Darren can make his big announcement out here on the trail.

Pocketing my phone, I caught up to Darren further down the path at the fork. He was already prying off the old marker, though it was obvious he was struggling. Sweat rolled down his neck and temples, and his black polo was soaked through. I hadn’t noticed earlier, considering the early spring weather was quite pleasant. I glanced down at my windbreaker and frowned, wishing I wasn’t such a freeze baby.

Can I help?

Darren gave an exaggerated huff and stepped away from the tree. Nah, I got it… Whew! He wiped the back of his hand across his forehead and used the old, bent and rusty placard as a makeshift fan to wave at his face. Was that ‘Nona?

I nodded, easily slipping the hammer from Darren’s limp grasp. We’re expected.

He shook his head. That, my dear, is why Jan and I never got one of those electronic leashes. He took a full breath. "Always tethered to The Man. The Wo-man, to be exact." He winked.

She didn’t give a reason why we had to hurry. I lowered the hammer and narrowed my eyes at Darren. You didn’t push back your announcement, did you?

Me? Darren asked, feigning surprise. "Never! She probably just has some pressing matters she needs to attend to is all. Like picking up the bronze bust of me to commemorate, well, me."

I arched one brow and scanned his flushed face for any truth to the first part of his statement. Unfortunately, his smirk, coupled with his disheveled, sweaty gray hair made him look slightly insane and untrustworthy. I know you’re plotting something.

Your mother always thought I was plotting, he added before grabbing the handkerchief in his back pants pocket to wipe dry his brow.

I lowered the hammer a second time with the mentioning of my mother. Hm. Is this a ploy to get me to reminisce? Weren’t you, though?

Darren knelt down and scratched under Qilin’s expectant chin. Not plotting so much as scheming. He grinned.

Frowning, I raised the hammer to hang the placard. I stood on my tiptoes to hang it at the appropriate height. Is there a difference?

Heather must’ve thought so.

The hammer dropped limp in my grasp a third time.

Your mother wasn’t ready for my plans of world domination, he said, thoughtful. She was so young.

Sigh… Here comes his patronizing reminder of how he singlehandedly helped paved my path to the Duskview Metroparks to become a naturalist.

Darren stood and was quiet for a moment. You have to know that you didn’t need my help getting into the park, right?

What? I turned toward Darren, staring.

He was gazing sheepishly at his hiking boots. Well, some. Sure, I might’ve put in a good word for you with ‘Nona, but ultimately it was all your own doing that got you the job. They don’t just let anyone in here, y’know.

I continued to stare, uncertain what to think. So….

I’m an arrogant, know-it-all jerk, yes, he finished. Shrugging, he added, I just didn’t want you getting a big head and all. I was teaching you a valuable lesson.

And the door to Darren’s softer side slammed closed. Some lesson. I didn’t know they taught dishonesty in the parks. I turned back to tap in the nail. My mother might’ve been young, but she was wise to wait.

Ouch! Darren said, surprised. But I suppose I deserved that.

"Frick! I’m so sorry! I blurted, dropping the hammer into a bush. I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately." I bent over to retrieve it. Nice job, Rivs! Apologizing again for no reason. I grimaced when my knuckle caught on a particularly sharp thorn.

Sorry about what? Darren asked, his normal tone returned. I like this new Fern I’ve discovered here in the woods. Besides, it’s obvious why you’re acting different.

Oh? Enlighten me, please.

Heightened responsibility, he answered cryptically.

I wrapped my fingers around the hammer and sighed. I admit, I’m nervous about advancing from part-time to full-time.

Hey. There’s nothing to worry about. It’s only double the work, research, training, and programs, is all. He smirked.

I shook my head and finished pounding in the nail.

C’mon, Rivs, Darren encouraged. We can finish this later. This heat is killing me, and as you said, we’re expected.

Did Winona say why she had to leave?

Janis frowned, shaking her head while tugging on her taut, mid-back braid. She flung the silvery rope behind her head to her other shoulder and focused her cool, penetrating stare on me. Not a word. Just said she had to leave and that Darren would fill in for her at the meeting. Her stern regard softened, replaced with a hint of concern.

That’s odd, I said, looking to where Darren was heading up the stairs to retrieve a washcloth and alcohol for my poisoned legs. Qilin was close on his heels. Treat-loving traitor.

She’s been distracted lately, Janis added."

Maybe she’s stressed because of the anniversary event.

Janis’ mouth twisted in thought, but it was obvious she didn’t agree. Maybe… She snapped her fingers, and her green eyes grew large. So, did you get anything out of Darren?

She was going to give me whiplash one day, with her one-eighty conversations. Other than his smart mouth and desire to finish remarking the trails another day? I raised my eyebrows and headed down the hall toward the theater with Janis in tow.

That old coot sure is keeping a tight lid on his retirement. Didn’t think he’d come back after getting food poisoning.

Was that a hint of venom I detected in her tone? Janis had a tendency to speak abrasively of most people in the lodge, whether or not it was warranted. Old coot? You’re only seven years his junior. I’m not surprised, to be honest. Darren’s notorious for keeping secrets. Especially when they’re⁠—

But why keep retirement a secret? Janis asked, interrupting me. And why announce it so close to the fiftieth anniversary? She seemed genuinely confused. You don’t think he would skip out⁠—

"No, I interjected louder than I would have liked. My cheeks bloomed. He may love to be the center of attention, but he wouldn’t purposely leave us understaffed for such an important event." He better not, I thought to myself.

Janis slowly nodded, looking at me anew. Since when did Little Fiddle start asserting herself and raising her voice? There was a hint of a grin on the corner of her thin, unpainted lips.

I’d have to shout to match her volume. Since today, according to Darren.

Janis snickered. If there is one thing Patterson did that made sense, it was going to bat for you. She roughly patted my shoulder with a bony, calloused hand. "I’m glad he brought you back aboard. You’re ready for full-time, Rivs."

I cringed at the nickname; it sounded worse coming from Janis. I hoped Darren would tell them all what he’d told me out on the trail earlier. Maybe then they’d all stop looking at me like I was some stowaway. Thanks.

When we reached the theater, most everyone from outdoor education was already present. It was a small group—seven in all—Darren and Winona included.

We’re still two short, I said to nobody in particular. And almost nobody, save one, heard me above the din of voices. I cast Brooke a warm smile and strode up to her.

Other than a certain someone’s big announcement, Janis started, projecting her voice for all to hear in the small theater, I thought we were here to discuss the big event in two weeks.

We are, answered Isaiah, the lone male naturalist in the spacious room. Just those of us in outdoor ed.

Janis shook her head and took a seat.

I shrugged at Brooke. I guess the other park divisions are having separate meetings?

Not very cost effective, if you ask me, the young seasonal said, indifferent. So, are you excited?

Terrified, more like it. I just hope I’m ready.

You’ll do great! I know you will. She leaned closer to me and whispered, You’re the best naturalist here.

Oh! I blushed, hoping no one other than the bats hiding in the rafters could hear. I appreciate the sentiment, but I still have a lot to learn, I said, my voice nearly drowned out by the other three naturalists’ conversation. Voice projection being a top priority.

Brooke laughed, her hazel eyes friendly and honest. She leaned in closer still. Not all of us can have a megaphone for a mouth, she said while staring directly at Janis.

Ha! I smiled in spite of myself. Four years a seasonal and six more part-time… Between Cleveland and Duskview… I guess it’s time I was tossed a bone?

Well, you deserve a good bone.

I blushed at the unexpected sexual connotation. She doesn’t even know what she said. Innocent, just like her namesake. They’ll bump you up to a permanent position for sure now.

Brooke’s cheerful demeanor dimmed ever so slightly. Part-time… I’m sure you’re right.

I thought she’d be thrilled. She nearly did a cartwheel when she found a woolly bear.

Heard you stepped in poison ivy, Brooke said, making a pained expression. Are you really allergic?"

I guess we’ll find out soon enough. It’s been awhile since I’ve had it, so I’m not sure. I know some people become allergic to it later in life, but not the other way around.

I can roll around in it all day and not be affected. Brooke grinned.

Beautiful and immune to Poison ivy. So unfair. Be thankful. I caught the arrival of a black and white tornado out of the corner of my eye. Qilin, come!

The spinning sheltie’s ears perked up, and she loped over to her master. With Darren nowhere to be seen, Qilin was the model pet. Brooke almost dove in front of me to greet the dog. She was immediately assaulted by a deluge of doggie kisses and light pawing. Knowing her audience, Qilin set to performing a long list of practiced tricks in hopes of separating any treats from Brooke’s pocket.

Showoff. Don’t forget who taught you those moves. I looked out the doorway and down the hall, but I didn’t see Darren. It was probably my imagination, but my calves and ankles suddenly felt itchy. I was turning into a hypochondriac. I knew I wouldn’t see any signs of a rash for a few days, but even so, I needed to wash my legs. Couldn’t wait for Darren, especially if he was leading this meeting. I’d be a leper by the time he was done.

I’ll be right back, I announced to Brooke, who was too involved with Qilin to hear. So I slipped away unnoticed, as was the case in most every situation in my life. I made a beeline for the public restroom, passing no one on the way. Outside the door was an emergency medicine cabinet. I undid the latch and was grateful to find a small bottle of isopropyl alcohol. Feeling like I was skipping out on class, I ducked into the bathroom.

After a few minutes of bathing my legs in the nose-wrinkling chemical compound, I washed and dried myself, and returned to the world a cured woman. Mental note: pick up some calamine lotion, just in case.

I stopped short of walking back into the theater when it was clear that Darren had yet to arrive. None of the naturalists seemed to mind as they took advantage of the much-needed break from their chaotic work schedules. My art journal called out to me, demanding its pages to be filled.

Later.

Turning on my heel, I made for the lodge’s front entrance. I came upon no one along the way, and the lodge was blissfully quiet, save for the distant muffled chatter of my co-workers. I took the split log staircase two steps at a time, and clutched my hand around the carved acorn newel post for a sharp left turn like always. I made my way down the hall, past the lab, and hooked a right toward the lodge office. I expected Darren to call out and greet me, but I was left expectant.

Darren? I tried, slowing by the employee bathroom. The door was slightly ajar, so I moved on. I entered the cramped and cluttered office space, fully expecting to find him lounging in his chair, feet up on his desk. Again, I was left expectant.

Where in the world was he?

A familiar glass mason jar caught my attention, and I approached Darren’s desk to investigate. I smiled when I picked up the half-full container. Morels: a delicacy to some, a prize in an outdoor treasure hunt for others. The thrill of locating morels appealed to me more than eating them.

I nearly dropped the jar when I heard a door creak open outside the office.

The bathroom?

Darren? I tried a second time. No response. Great. Ghosts.

Fearing a practical joke, I took a deep breath and exited the office, fully expecting to be startled despite my awareness to the situation. As I moved toward the bathroom, I saw that the door had clearly been opened further inward. Why would he pull this kind of prank now, of all times?

Come on out—I know you’re hiding in there, I spoke in my boldest voice.

What am I doing? Embarrassed at my timidity, I stood up straight and stormed into the bathroom. The bark of a dog echoing off the tiled walls nearly turned me white.

"Qilin! My knees trembled, and I had to hold onto the door frame to stay upright. What are you doing up here snooping around? The sheltie responded by licking my kneecap. This isn’t a place for nosy dogs. You should be down⁠—"

And in one shocking moment, it became crystal clear why my dog was roaming the office bathroom. The boots jutting out at an awkward angle from under the stall were unmistakable, as were the hiked-up socks, which almost reached the bottoms of his knees. A toppled pink bottle of calamine lotion had rolled a few feet away from his limp hand. The once neatly tucked black polo, now disheveled, showed no rise and fall of his chest.

Oh, no….

Unable to breathe, I moved over to the stall. Darren’s glassy gaze stared off at nothing, his reading glasses still perched on top of his head. A thin trail of saliva escaped the corner of his bluish lips.

Frozen by the sight of my co-worker, I called out to Qilin. Go! Get help, girl! The urgency in my tone was enough