by Amber Crewes
“I have an appointment,” he told the receptionist. “I’m Lee Shepherd.”
“Have a seat, Mr. Shepherd,” the receptionist said as she beckoned toward the waiting area.
He sat down next to Meghan and peered at the magazine in her hands. “I have that at home,” he told her with a smile. “It’s my favorite subscription. I love trying the new recipes out when they print them in the back.”
Meghan grinned. “You must really like cooking,” she said. “It’s rare to find a man with a genuine interest.”
He shrugged. “I got it from my mother,” he explained. “Not only did I inherit her curly auburn locks, her freckles, and her sparkling sense of humor, but I also inherited her love of cooking.”
Meghan was thrilled; it was rare to find a man who would admit his affinity for cooking, and she was pleasantly surprised by his admission. “I got my love of cooking from my dad,” she told him, trying her best to remain professional and proper. “He loves cooking for our giant family.”
Lee laughed. “Well, what are the odds we share the same magazine subscription? I think this is a good sign…?”
“Meghan,” she told him. “I’m Meghan Truman.”
“I’m Lee,” he said. “I’m new in town.”
“Oh, you’ll love Sandy Bay,” she exclaimed. “It’s a great place. I actually own a bakery here. Truly Sweet? You’ll have to stop by sometime.”
“I would love that,” he told her, his bright green eyes dancing. “That sounds truly sweet.”
Pamela came back to the lobby holding a white paper bag. “I’ve got them,” she told Meghan. “They look so cute.”
Meghan rose from her seat. “It was nice meeting you.”
“You as well,” Lee grinned. “Seeing such a lovely lady in town sure helps brighten up this dreary visit.”
“Oh?” she asked. “Forgive me for not asking sooner, but what brought you to Sandy Bay?”
“My mother,” he replied.
“Who is your mom? I know most everyone in town, but I don’t think I know any Shepherds.”
Lee’s face darkened. “We didn’t share a last name. My mother was Jodie Abbott.”
9
A fter work, Meghan knew she needed to get some fresh air. She was still shaken from meeting Jodie Abbott’s son, and she had hardly been able to concentrate at work. Though the sun was setting in the distance, she decided to take the dogs to the beach.
She led Fiesta and Siesta outside, shivering as the salty sea air hit her skin. A gust of wind hit the dogs, and they yelped, both shivering as the breeze ruffled their fur.
“You’re fine,” Meghan hissed as she dragged them down the block. She paused, feeling guilty that she snapped at her beloved little dogs. “I’m sorry, my loves. Mommy just had a stressful day. I didn’t mean to be mean to you.”
They arrived at the beach, and Meghan quickly realized that they would have to return home sooner than later; it was almost pitch black outside, and the ocean winds were piercing. “We can at least get a little walk in,” she decided as she walked down the dark sand beach.
In the distance, she spotted a slim figure walking toward her. “It’s that woman,” she thought as she squinted her eyes. “That strange woman from the barn. I wonder what she is doing here.”
The woman turned to face the water, and Meghan pulled her pink baseball cap down lower over her forehead. “I don’t want her to see me,” she whispered to the dogs. “Just stay cool, my sweet doggies.”
Meghan crept behind the woman, keeping her distance as she watched her. Another figure emerged and walked to the strange woman. “Who could that be?” Meghan wondered.
She tugged on the dogs’ leashes and took them closer, gasping as she realized who the second person was. “It’s Kayley Kane,” she muttered. “What is Kayley doing out here talking to that crazy woman?”
Meghan got down, crouching as she pulled out her cell phone to take pictures of the two women. “I hope they don’t see me,” she prayed as she focused the small camera on her cell phone. “This is a real undercover mission.”
“Meghan, what are you doing?”
Meghan shrieked as someone put a hand on her shoulder. She looked up in horror, but smiled in relief when she saw it was her boyfriend, Jack. “Babe!”
“What are you doing here?” he repeated.
“I was walking the dogs on the beach,” she began. “Then I saw that strange woman I told you about. The one from the barn? She’s down there by the water, and Kayley Kane showed up. They’re down there gabbing, and I want to know what’s going on.”
Jack crouched down beside her in the sand. “Meghan, leave the detective work to me,” he told her. “You don’t know what that strange woman is capable of. What if she had spotted you?”
Meghan shrugged. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I just want to know what her deal is. Why is she haunting our barn and scaring off our potential clients?”
Jack shook his head. “Meghan, I’m not surprised that woman is in cahoots with Kayley,” he told her. “Kayley and I went to high school together, remember? She always attracted shady characters. I think we should just let this one go for now and get out of here.”
Another gust of freezing wind hit Meghan’s face, and she rose to her feet. “You’re right. Let’s go, babe.”
Jack took Meghan’s hand, and they scurried toward the parking lot. “I was out here doing my nightly rounds around town,” he explained as they climbed into his car. “I saw two little dogs running around the beach, and I knew you had to be out there. What did we talk about, babe? Don’t go out to the beach alone. It isn’t safe.”
Meghan rolled her eyes. “You aren’t the boss of me,” she said flirtatiously.
“Someone needs to be,” Jack whispered before leaning in to kiss her on the lips.
Meghan felt the hairs on her arm stand up as Jack kissed her; she was so in love with him, and she could not believe that they had been together for almost a year. Jack was perfect for her; his steady personality, confidence, and sweet nature complemented her, and she was unfailingly thankful for him.
Jack pulled away, starting the car and turning up the heat. “Our kisses were hot, but this car is so cold,” he moaned as he shivered.
He put the car in drive and turned toward the town. “Let’s get you three home,” he told Meghan.
Meghan settled back in her seat. “How is the Abbott case going?” she asked as they passed the optician’s office, thinking of her encounter with Lee Shepherd that morning.
Jack shook his head. “Frank appears to be the only suspect,” he told her. “It’s sad, but all of the evidence points to him. He told us that he had agreed to meet Jodie at the beach to talk about what happened at the wedding, but the next day, she was found dead on that very same beach.”
“So he’s cooperating?”
“He is,” Jack agreed. “But he is staunchly proclaiming his innocence. It’s hard to determine innocence when the suspect has significant brain deterioration from age.”
Meghan sighed. “How sad,” she said. “Are there any other suspects?”
Jack raised an eyebrow, and then pointed out of the window. “Speak of the devil…”
Meghan bit her lip as she saw him point at Mrs. Sheridan. She was hobbling down the street with her cane, and in her free hand, she was balancing three ice cream cones.
“She is next on my list,” Jack said to Meghan. “We’ve gotten some information, and from what I can tell, that woman’s heart might be as cold as the ice cream she’s holding.”
10
M eghan rose early the next morning; the television crew from the local station was coming to interview Meghan, and she knew she needed to look her best. The producer they were sending, Noah Morrison, was notorious around town for his arrogance, and she was eager to thwart it if she could.
“It’s a big day,” Meghan told the dogs as she stood in front of her white vanity. “Your mommy has to look and sound like she knows
what she’s doing.”
Meghan dressed in a pale pink sweater dress with an empire waist. The color of the dress set off her dark eyes and complemented her olive skin, and she placed a matching barrette in her wavy hair. She applied a thick layer of mauve lipstick and pinched her cheeks, bringing some color back into them after the long winter.
“You look adorable,” Pamela squealed as Meghan walked downstairs. “The crew is setting up in the dining room. That producer, Noah, is so good looking, Meghan. He looks like a movie star.”
Meghan went into the dining room and gasped. Five black-clad crew members were decorating the dining room with vases of fresh yellow roses, and a brunette woman grabbed her by the elbow. “Morgan? The owner? We need to get you in hair and makeup.”
“It’s Meghan,” she corrected as she was ushered into a black folding chair. The brunette woman powdered her nose. “I already put my makeup on,” Meghan explained as the woman kept powdering.
“You need more for the camera,” the woman argued. “And wipe off the lipstick; it will wash you out on the air. You need a nude tone or a red. Which would you prefer?”
Before Meghan could answer, a tall man with wavy brown hair marched up to her. “Morgan? I’m Noah Morrison, the producer.”
“It’s Meghan.”
“Tomatoes, toe-mah-toes,” he laughed haughtily. Pamela was right; he was very handsome, but he reminded Meghan of the overly-confident film directors from her days in Hollywood.
“Meghan, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve been a distant fan of your bakery for awhile now, and I’m glad we get to do this.”
“A distant fan?”
“I follow the bakery on social media,” he explained. “Now, let me tell you how today is going to go. We have our crew here to film you, and they have already gotten their background and establishing shots. Now, we just need to get our face time with you. I will be shooting this like a documentary, and if this all goes well, I will be submitting it to a major film festival next month.”
“A film festival? A documentary? I was told this would be a short clip on the local news station,” Meghan pushed back. “What are you talking about?”
Before he could reply, Pamela appeared beside them. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said, blushing as she stared at Noah. “Meghan? Do we have any desserts to serve the crew?”
“I baked a pan of éclairs last night,” Meghan said. “They are in the freezer.”
Pamela sneezed loudly. “Excuse me!”
“That was a loud sneeze. Are you having allergies?” Meghan asked.
Pamela shook her head. “I think it’s from his cologne,” she whispered to Meghan. “I smelled Noah from a mile away this morning when he first arrived.”
Meghan laughed. “You can always count on those Hollywood types to drench their insecurities in cologne. Who is this guy, anyway? He’s walking around like he’s a big deal, and in reality, he’s a newsboy for the local station. I’m too busy with my bakery to watch television anyway. I just can’t stand his type.”
“Excuse me?”
The color drained from Meghan’s face as she realized he had heard every rude word out of her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she apologized as Noah’s handsome face paled. “That was rude of me. I clearly haven’t had my caffeine yet, and I shouldn’t have been talking to you so rudely.”
“More like talking about me,” Noah scoffed. “For the record, I am a very successful journalist. The first story I ever produced was a huge hit; I did a piece on the man who eloped with his caterer at that barn. I investigated to learn what happened to the couple after that little event. It was hard-hitting journalism, and it was shown on national television.”
“That’s impressive,” Meghan politely admitted. “What else did you learn about that barn?” she asked, her interest piqued.
“Well, if you must know, that place is a disaster,” he said. “They should have burned it to the ground, in my opinion. There have been a bunch of freak accidents out there, like strange lightning strikes and storms. In my professional opinion, the place is cursed.”
“You really think so?”
“I spent a year investigating it,” he replied. “It’s sad that old Sally Sheridan decided to use the place for her wedding. The curse struck again. You know, I was actually a ring bearer at her first wedding. I was only a month old, and my mother carried me down the aisle, but yeah, investigating that barn brought it all full circle for me.”
“Wow,” Meghan replied.
“It’s a bit funny that Sally is so upset,” he remarked as he leaned in and pinned a microphone on Meghan’s collar. “She knew Jodie Abbott. She knew Frank was married.”
“What?”
He nodded. “Enough about that. Let’s get down to business. It’s time to start your interview. You will sit over there, and I will ask you questions. It will be simple enough, but our editors will format it so it seems like a proper documentary. Questions?”
Meghan shook her head. “Let’s do it.”
Noah led her to one of the white iron chairs in the corner. “We’ll begin in three... two... one... rolling!”
Meghan smiled as the lights came on and the cameras began clicking. “Meghan Truman,” Noah began. “She walked into this town as a stranger one year ago, and now, she operates one of the most beloved bakeries in the area. Who is this woman? Why did she come here? Where is her business going from here? We’ll find out the answers on this special edition of Sandy Bay Six.”
Though her mind was racing with the new information Noah had given her, Meghan forced herself to grin. “Thank you for being here at Truly Sweet, Noah.”
“Thank you for having us. Let’s begin by giving our viewers a glance into your history. Born and raised in Texas, you moved to Hollywood to pursue your dreams of being an actress. After a failed acting career, you arrived in Sandy Bay.”
“It’s true,” Meghan admitted. “I failed at acting, but I learned many lessons from my failures and have used those lessons to propel this business to success.”
“That’s nice,” Noah smiled. “Your desserts have been praised from Sandy Bay, down the west coast, and in Paris, France. The public has fallen in love with your apple pies, your éclairs, your king cakes, and more. How have you done it, Meghan?”
Meghan shrugged. “I’ve worked hard,” she simply stated. “I’ve worked hard to build my business from the ground up, and with each obstacle, we’ve risen stronger.”
“Obstacles?”
“We’ve experienced a few,” she said candidly. “When I first arrived in town, everyone thought I had something to do with a murder.
“That’s right,” Noah recalled. “And that happened again and again, didn’t it?”
Meghan’s stomach sank. Noah was going to dredge up things Meghan wished she could forget, things she hoped the public had quickly forgotten. “It did,” she said coolly. “But this bakery is a clean, safe place for our patrons. We strive for the best.”
“I’m sure you do,” Noah condescendingly replied as Meghan’s face burned. “Meghan, I hear you are involved in another murder investigation that is connected to another business venture of yours?”
Meghan wanted to vomit. She gritted her teeth, resisting the urge to cry, and she regretted having gossiped about Noah to Pamela. He was clearly enacting his revenge. “I am not involved in a murder investigation,” she protested.
“Didn’t a woman show up at your event barn and die soon after? That sounds a bit suspect to me,” he responded. “What are your thoughts on Jodie Abbott, the woman who crashed the wedding of a Sandy Bay local and then perished the following day? Do you have any insights into what happened?”
Meghan looked past Noah and angrily stared into the camera. She took a deep breath, and then, she spoke. “Looks can be deceiving,” she stated primly, her head held high. “Nothing is ever as it appears. Noah, I think it would be best if we moved on to the next topic immediately.”
11
“Y
ou brought the heat, Meghan!” Jackie complimented as they sipped oat milk lattes at Surf Perk, the newest coffee shop in town.
Meghan grinned. After nervously waiting for the interview to air, the final cut was marvelous; all of the segments about Truly Sweet’s rocky beginnings had been cut, and Meghan appeared confident and kind throughout the entire conversation. Even Noah Morrison had been pleased; he had sent a bouquet of yellow roses to the bakery that morning, and Meghan hoped their tumultuous first meeting was well in the past.
“You said you were worried about it. Why?”
Meghan shrugged. “I felt like he was trying to trip me up, but ultimately, they gave me a nice edit.”
“They gave you a perfect edit,” Jackie corrected. “I hope they can do an interview with us about the event barn. If they make us look as good as you looked in your Sandy Bay Six segment, we’ll be rolling in the dough; clients will be banging down our door.”
Meghan raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know,” she said. “The producer, Noah, wasn’t the friendliest. And given the circumstances with Mrs. Sheridan and Frank, I think we need to be low-key about the barn for awhile.”
Jackie bit her lip. “Speaking of the barn,” she began, her hands shaking. “There’s something I have to tell you.”
Meghan frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“I got a call from city hall today,” Jackie said slowly. “We owe ten thousand dollars on the barn.”
“What? Ten thousand dollars? How?”
“It’s a special tax,” Jackie explained, her face drawn. “In Sandy Bay, the local government can collect up to ten thousand dollars from venues or complexes that house more than a thousand people at a time. Usually, this only affects apartment complexes and neighborhoods, but in our case, since the barn is so big…”
“You have to be kidding me,” Meghan hissed as she glared at Jackie. “Why didn’t you look into this? Now the money I’ve invested means nothing. We are going to be losing money, Jackie.”