“Cats are resilient. She’ll be fine. Why don’t we go outside so we can talk?” A much louder meow came from the opposite side of the room. We all turned our heads and saw a black cat with white paws and a white chest strutting past Cal’s body. “Oh, look. It’s Willie,” Uncle Jack said.
As Willie strolled past Cal, he took the opportunity to grab what must have been a piece of kite string and began playing with it. “Oh no,” I said. “We should probably get him out of here so he doesn’t mess with the crime scene.” I took a step toward Willie and crouched. “Here, kitty, kitty.”
Willie stopped batting the string for a moment and took a step in my direction. He quickly halted and resumed his play.
Uncle Jack said, “Let me try. He knows me. C’mon Willie. Let’s get back home.” He scooped Willie into his arm, getting a better look at Cal. “You’re right, Tilly. That string looks like it may have been the murder weapon. It’s wrapped around Cal’s neck. I think it’s kite string.”
Florence gasped. “I had no idea this part of town was so rough. Why didn’t the realtor tell me it was running rampant with hoodlums?” Princess Guinevere struggled to get her head out from under Florence’s hand. Willie also began to seriously wiggle out of Uncle Jack’s arms.
“We should probably get these two out of here before we end up like a scratching post. Florence, why don’t you come next door to Checkered Past Antiques while we wait for the police?” Uncle Jack offered.
“Do you own that junk store?” she asked.
Uncle Jack’s cheeks drooped and he frowned. That statement was a dagger to the heart. The store was his and his brother Frank’s pride and joy. “I’ll have you know, Flo, we have a lot of precious and high-end items. People travel from all over to come see us.” Uncle Jack hugged Willie to his chest and stomped out of the building to the sidewalk.
I stepped to Uncle Jack’s side and put my hand on his arm. “Is Willie your cat?”
He closed his eyes and shook his head. “No. He belongs to Justin who rents the apartment upstairs from the antique store.” He tilted his head down the sidewalk toward Checkered Past Antiques. He turned to see if Florence was following him and entered his store. Uncle Jack put Willie on the floor and he took off like a rocket, taking shelter behind the display counter.
Florence stepped just barely inside and scanned the room, looking like she might reconsider Uncle Jack’s offer.
“I’m going to call the police. You’re welcome to take a seat while we wait,” Uncle Jack said and gestured to a couple of chairs matching those on the outside of the store.
Looking down at her cat and pausing, Florence slowly made her way to the seat. She wiped her gloved hand across the fabric, removing any invisible dust and looking at her fingers. She made eye contact with Uncle Jack, shook her head, and sat on the edge of the chair. Princess Guinevere poked her head out of the bag with a huge sneeze. Florence gasped and put her hand over the cat’s head again.
Willie peeked around the corner toward the sound he heard and looked at me. I shrugged. He looked at Princess Guinevere again and tiptoed a couple of steps toward her, wisely wary of the duo, who seemed completely out of place. I suspected after all of this drama, the deal for the purchase of the building next door would be null and void.
I didn’t feel a need to engage Florence in conversation. This might be the last time we would see her. I heard Uncle Jack on the phone to the police, reporting our find. I was sure it wouldn’t be long before someone would arrive to take our statements and gather clues from the scene. I hoped it would be soon. I was itching to get busy on my debut baking voyage. I could almost taste the cream that was part of Grandma Luna’s legendary cupcakes. Thankfully, I now lived in a place that made it easier to get outside and be active. Tasting my treats would test my waistline. I sighed. I wanted more adventure in this new phase of my life. But finding dead bodies was not what I envisioned.
CHAPTER FOUR
“Good morning, Uncle Jack.” I was so excited for my first day of baking I couldn’t sleep the night before. “Where can I get some of that coffee?” I wove my way through the stacks of aisles teeming with merchandise. I held my breath, almost afraid of disturbing something and creating an avalanche.
“C’mon back. I’ve always got a pot going.” He got a cup from the shelf and poured it full of the steaming elixir.
I took it, inhaled the aroma, and took a sip. I coughed. “Wow, that’s strong stuff.”
“I figured we would need it today. That was quite the first day you had yesterday.” He took his coffee and sat in one of the chairs bordering the small table. He pointed at the other chair for me to sit. “Take a load off before we get too busy for our day.”
I could learn a thing or two from my Uncle Jack about priorities and not stressing. He was as cool as a cucumber yesterday when that dead body appeared. Thankfully, due to his calm state I didn’t freak out. At least on the outside. I was sure my restless night was also prompted by the mystery we had on our hands—and a murderer we had in our midst.
I sat and gripped the coffee cup with both hands, tipping and gulping half of it down. I felt an almost instant jolt from the caffeine. I looked at my uncle, slouched in his chair, gazing into the distance. He slowly turned and said, “I hope you don’t let the events of yesterday scare you off. It really is safe here. Though, you probably had more of that to worry about in the big city.”
I smiled. I didn’t want to worry him. But I was scared. We certainly had a higher crime rate where I moved from, but never in my life had I seen a murdered body. “I’m OK. Your friend Barney was very gentle in his questioning yesterday. I think he even handled Florence well.”
Barney Houston was the police chief of Belle Harbor. He probably dealt more with drunk and rowdy beach-goers than he did with dead bodies in this small town. But he acted like this was the millionth time he was investigating a murder.
I shivered at the thought of Cal laying on the floor, envisioning someone strangling him with kite string right next door. Did it happen when we were in the building? Or when we were on our walk? I racked my brain to remember anyone I happened to see near the antique store.
“Yeah, he’s a pro. Barney and I go way back. He’s been visiting more now that Frank has passed. He doesn’t think I know what he’s up to.” Uncle Jack bowed his head, sat on the edge of his chair, and sighed. “Truth be told, I’m glad to see him. It has been lonely without my brother. I can’t actually remember a time when Frank and I weren’t together.” His voice got quiet.
I scooted to the edge of my chair and got up to refill my cup. “I’m glad he’s here for you.”
Uncle Jack stood. “I do have a great friend group. That reminds me. We’ve got our weekly poker game Friday. Normally I’d close the store a bit early. But if you wouldn’t mind?” He raised those bushy eyebrows toward me. How could I resist those—and this kind, gentle, supportive man?
“Of course I’ll watch the shop for you, Unkie,” I said.
He held out his hand to halt me pouring any more coffee. “Hold off on that a bit. I have a surprise for you.” He put his empty cup on the table, grabbed my hand, and led me from the store. I was not one for surprises. I preferred having control of things in my life. For many years, I went along to get along. But that always felt like my life wasn’t my own. I tried to organize and arrange what I could, but it was never enough. I was finally getting some clarity about my future that gave me peace. But with the Uncle Jack factor, I might just have to learn how to be more spontaneous.
We emerged onto the sidewalk along the beachfront shops. He guided me in the opposite direction than we had ventured yesterday. I couldn’t fathom what he had in store for me. At this early hour, a few people were out and about. Mostly joggers on the boardwalk and a few families staking out their space on the beach for another day of the kite festival.
“Where are we going?” I looked over my shoulder at the antique shop. How in the world did he do so well in business when
he frequently left the place unattended?
“Well, I figured you needed a better way to get around town to deliver your bakery items.” He continued his brisk pace, causing me to start wheezing as I struggled to keep up.
“You’re way ahead of me. I don’t have any deliveries planned for a while. I was just going to sell the items from the antique shop,” I said, gasping in between sentences.
Uncle Jack stopped. I suspected he realized he was running me ragged but didn’t mention it. “Girl, you’ve got to be thinking big. You should go into Mocha Joe’s and set up an arrangement with him to supply pastries. It would be a match made in heaven.” He winked. Was he already setting me up for more than a business relationship? My stomach gurgled at the thought.
I slowed my pace and he matched my steps. “That’s a good idea. I’ll put it on my list to check out,” I said. My breath finally steadied.
“Here we are,” he said and turned into a Nelson’s Moped Rental Shop. He grinned from ear to ear. “This will be perfect for you to get around town. We can get you one which has a basket to hold your deliveries.”
“It’s really too much. I can’t,” I said.
“Nonsense. I insist. Frank left money for me. And this is what I want to do. Hi Anna.” Uncle Jack headed to the counter.
The woman waved. “Hi Jack. I’m all ready for you.” Her long blonde hair bobbed behind her in a ponytail as she walked toward us. She pointed to the door of the shop.
“Beautiful Anna. This is my niece Tilly that I told you about.”
Anna stuck her hand out and we shook. “Nice to meet you,” I said and swung around and glared at Uncle Jack, my eyes wide.
“It’s settled, I’m doing this for you.” He led us outside to a row of three mopeds lined up against the front wall. Anna and I followed.
I stood with my hands on my hips, attempting to strike a pose of confidence. I had never ridden a moped. And my bicycle skills were quite rusty too. “I wouldn’t know how to ride one.”
Uncle Jack looked at Anna, and she handed him a key. “I’ll show you. Easy peasy.” He stepped up to the first moped in the row and swung his leg over it. He inserted the key and put on the helmet, pulling the strap snugly over his bushy beard. That man was bold.
I quickly stepped to his side and whispered, “Uncle Jack, what about your glaucoma?” I peeked at Anna. Did she not know that his eyesight wasn’t the best? I had to stop this disaster waiting to happen.
“It’s fine,” he said.
I didn’t know how it could be fine. “Why doesn’t Anna show me?” I looked at her for support in my pleas.
“Tilly.” He called me over and tipped his head in a conspiratorial manner, looking over my shoulder at Anna. He said, “Justin hooked me up with some marijuana. It’s really helped.” He sat tall. “Just watch.” I hoped I wasn’t about to see the end of my uncle. He started the moped and sped off down the sidewalk, out to the boardwalk.
My heart raced and I shook my head. Anna stepped up next to me. “He thinks his glaucoma ‘treatment,’”—she used air quotes—“is illegal. We keep telling him that it’s legal now to have marijuana. But I think he likes believing he’s doing something nefarious. It really does seem to help his eyesight.”
I took a deep breath and watched my uncle speed along the boardwalk, earning him a few dirty looks from the early morning beach crowd. At that moment, I had no doubt the universe had put him and I together at this point in time—just what we both needed in our lives.
I talked Uncle Jack into riding the moped back to the antique store until I could get more practice driving it. That might have been against my better judgment as he whizzed past me and several people, one hand waving in the air, yelling ‘yeehaw.’ I closed my eyes and gulped, saying a silent prayer that he would return in one piece. It was no wonder he was a free spirit as the son of Grandma Luna, who always danced to her own music. The sun had now risen, beginning to warm up the growing crowd on the beach.
The colorful Ferris wheel was now running with a long line of people waiting for their ride. The rhythmic sound of the waves coming to shore slowed my heartrate. I inhaled the salt air. The ambiance in Belle Harbor was something I could easily get used to. A feeling of freedom, a permanent vacation, and a whole new life lay before me.
My goal was to focus on becoming the best baker I could. The temporary spot Uncle Jack had created in the Checkered Past Antiques’ store would do until I established my business. I looked ahead and saw Unkie had parked the moped and returned to the store. I couldn’t wait to see what life had in store for me. It had to be better than up ’til now. This was going to be a great day.
CHAPTER FIVE
No doubt the sea air and the excitement of the last couple of days exhausted me for a good night’s sleep. The sun was up, and I felt like I was already behind for my day. Bakers started their shifts by 4:00 a.m., and it was several hours after that. I just couldn’t bring myself to ride my new moped yet, so I walked the few blocks from my little rental cottage to the antique store. I rounded the corner to the sidewalk along the beachfront shops and saw the Checkered Past Antiques’ door propped open and ready for business. Light blazed through the front window, illuminating the bench in front of the store.
I entered the shop and didn’t see a soul. Two deep voices came from the table and chairs in the corner that Uncle Jack had set up for his coffee chats. I teased him that it was his good ole boys club.
“Over here, Tilly,” came Uncle Jack’s voice as I saw fingers wiggling in the air. The smell of coffee started my taste buds salivating. I needed a jolt of java to get my day going.
“Hi guys,” I said, reaching for the cup of coffee Uncle Jack handed me. “You’re here early.”
Uncle Jack pointed to a chair for me to be seated and join their little group. He looked over at Barney, back at me, and returned to his chair. “Yeah, I guess I don’t like rattling around in that big house by myself.” He looked off in the distance, peering over the stacks of antiques filling the room.
I looked at Barney and raised my eyebrows. It was relatively recent since Uncle Frank had passed. Those two brothers had been inseparable from day one. It must have felt like a part of your body had been removed when your lifelong companion was suddenly gone. I reached over and grabbed Unkie’s hand. He looked at me and tilted his head, smiling with pursed lips. “You look so much like her. It’s almost as if she is actually here.” From as early as I could remember, everyone told me that I was the spitting image of Grandma Luna. At first, I bristled at those comments. Who wanted to be compared to an old woman when you were a young girl? Now I took it as the highest compliment.
“I only hope I can do the bakery justice,” I said.
“Tilly, I have a question,” Barney interjected. I bet all of Uncle Jack’s friends had lots of questions about his niece suddenly showing up on the scene. They were a protective group, and I was sure they were skeptical about a relative coming to take over his business.
“Yes?” I said, drawing out the word into multiple syllables.
“It’s really none of my business,” Barney started. He stood and grabbed the coffee carafe to refill his cup. He returned to his seat, stirring the coffee with a spoon clinking the sides of the cup. Keeping his focus on the coffee, he continued, “Why don’t you stay with Jack? He’s got lots of room in that house.”
Thankfully, Uncle Jack and I had already discussed this topic. And it was settled, at least for now. I boldly sat up in my chair and said, “I’ve never really lived by myself. I’ve wanted to have that experience for a while.”
Barney looked at Uncle Jack and shrugged as if silently messaging I tried.
I finished my coffee and set my empty cup on the table. “I better get to it. Those cupcakes aren’t going to make themselves.” I rubbed my hands together. “Uncle Jack, it looks like you’ve been busy rearranging again.” I walked along a couple of tables and noticed several items had been moved. “Maybe my organization system is rub
bing off on you.” I laughed. That would never happen.
He stood and looked over the many tables displaying everything from 1800’s telephones to 1700’s typewriters. “No. Why do you say that?”
I turned to see if he was joking. He rubbed his chin. He took several steps between the tables, examining the items. He looked back at me. “Nope, maybe a customer did that.” He picked up a couple of items and moved them to a different location. “There,” he said and returned to his chair next to Barney, seeming to be satisfied he had righted everything.
“Barney, what’s the latest on Cal’s death?” Uncle Jack was back to the coffee corner. “That woman we met over there was pretty upset. I think she felt put out because someone had dared die in her building.”
“Yeah, I don’t think she would take too kindly to you referring to her as that woman.” Barney chuckled.
My baker workspace was close enough to the coffee corner that I could still participate in the conversation, or at least eavesdrop. I began gathering all of my ingredients and tools in preparation for making the cupcakes. I had two willing taste-testers at my beck and call. Even though they were friendlies, I was still nervous about sharing my work.
“Well, you saw the kite string,” Barney continued. “What I’ve learned is that it’s a type that is expensive and that very few people use for kite flying. It’s mostly found in competitions. That might narrow down the list of suspects to someone likely to have that.”
“Uncle Jack?” I put my hands on my hips and looked around my little mini bakery. I could have sworn some of the supplies I had were previously in different locations.
Cupcakes and Catastrophe (A Belle Harbor Cozy Mystery Book 1) Page 2