"Now we can finally put that house of hers on the market and move to Florida. Marianne isn't the only one with ocean dreams. Goodbye snow, hello sunshine." Becky did a little dance.
My mouth was frozen in the "O" position. As in, oh my gosh, I couldn't believe the things that are coming out of Becky's mouth.
"What's that real estate agent’s name?" Becky asked me, snapping her fingers. I had no clue who she was talking about. "Susan Smith. I'm going to give her a call right now." Becky shook her finger at me. "She tried to convince Adele to sell before, but of course, the old bag didn't listen. But it doesn't matter. Susan will still want the listing, I know she will, and oh, she'll get top dollar for it, too." Becky looked up at the sky as if money was about to rain down on her from heaven.
Adele's head was pulsing red like a police car's emergency light and it was just as alarming. If a ghost could spontaneously combust, Adele would've. I had to get her out of there, and fast, if I had any hope of getting Adele to cross over—and not spend an eternity haunting Becky and her descendants.
"Becky, listen. Charles is trying to reach you. Andrew was taken to the hospital, too. You need to get in touch with him and see what's going on."
"What?" Becky blinked.
That brought the woman back down to earth. "Just call Charles. He can fill you in. I'm going to take this cat and run."
Becky looked to her own smart watch as if to confirm she had missed a call. I waved goodbye and walked as quickly as I could to the market with Milo in my coat. I never thought I would say it, but thankfully, Adele followed me.
"I knew that woman was a phony. Always calling me, Wednesday tea, asking about my China. She just wanted to get her grubby little paws on my fortune. What did Charles ever see in her?" Adele continued on and on in the same fashion while I took a basket and made my way to the back service counter to place my order. The funny thing was, up until five minutes ago, I could've sworn Becky was Adele's favorite, and vice versa. The day continued to be full of surprises.
Fortunately, Steve was working the counter and didn't care that I brought Milo along. Steve was another local guy, born and raised here, and only a couple of years older than me. In addition to working at the market, he also managed the city's bowling alley and made bowling a three hundred game look easy. One time I asked him why he never went pro, to which he replied, "Why would I want to do that? That would take the fun out of it, wouldn't it?" I suppose he had a point, even if most people would be lured by the money.
"What's up with this little fellow?" he asked.
Milo crawled halfway out of my coat.
"New pet. He had a bit of a traumatic day. Just trying to keep him calm." I looked around for Adele, but she was MIA.
"Well, I can help with that." Steve walked over to the deli counter and retrieved a piece of smoked fish. "Here you go, buddy."
Milo eagerly ate the fish and licked his lips, his eyes darting to Steve's fingers, waiting for him to feed him some more.
"I guess we'll take some of that to-go," I laughed.
"Sure thing. What else can I get you?"
I gave Steve the rest of my order and went about the market, adding a few things to my basket while he put the food together. East Bay Market was a mecca for foodies. They had olives stuffed with blue cheese or garlic or jalapenos, a cheese counter that dwarfed my dessert one, and enough pasta salads, dips, chips, crackers, and cured meats to put together the most perfect charcuterie board or picnic. Not to mention an impressive selection of the area's fine wine and that freshly cooked fish, of course. I found myself adding more food to my basket than I had intended to buy, making it awkward to carry along with Milo. It required me to make more than one trip to my car. I found myself wondering who was going to eat it all. Unfortunately, Adele was in the car and she was wondering the same thing.
"You going to eat all of that yourself? You better not, you'll gain twenty pounds. You'll have to start working out with that no-good Becky or get the name of her plastic surgeon. And don't go feeding all of that to my cat either. Milo has a delicate digestive system. If you don't believe me, just wait until you have to clean out his litter box. You do have a litter box, don't you?"
Oh crud. No, I did not. I still had Smokey’s food bowl, but the litter box wasn't something I had saved. I wasn't going to tell Adele that, however.
"Headed there next," I said with a fake smile plastered to my face. I had no idea if Adele's litter box comment meant she approved of me having Milo or not, but I wasn't about to ask just yet.
5
Nick was waiting for us back at the apartment when we arrived.
"Where have you been?" I hissed at him while Adele floated in behind me and started insulting my decor and questioning my paint choices.
"Sorry, ghost business."
"Uh-huh." I went to work putting away the groceries and quickly set up Milo's litter box before diving into lunch.
"That smells amazing," Nick said, looking fondly at my lunch.
"I hate to say, but it tastes that way too." Nick had been one heck of chef himself. While I could bake like there was no tomorrow, he was the grill master. I, on the other hand, charred whatever I attempted to grill, which was why Nick's gas grill sat unused and covered outside the bakery's back door. It didn't seem right asking him how to use it when he couldn't eat the end results.
Despite Adele's claim to Milo's digestive disposition, I broke up another chunk of fish and put it in Smokey’s old food bowl along with some kibble we picked up. Milo happily chowed it down and started weaving in between my legs, rubbing his chin on my pant leg.
Meanwhile, Adele was ping-ponging down the hall, shooting insults over her shoulder. "This room is atrocious. Exposed brick? How industrial. A radiator? People still used these? Talk about needing an update."
"Help me here," I whispered to Nick.
"I'm working on it. I followed Autumn to Margaret’s, but she was already gone. Autumn's looking up Margaret's daughter's information."
"Hopefully that wasn't a lie." For all we knew, Margaret could be headed to New Orleans, Montana, or Timbuktu. "What about Andrew?"
"They drew labs but are still waiting for the results. His biggest complaint right now is a stomachache, and it's getting worse."
"You don't think he'd ingest his own poison, do you?"
"You mean he poisoned the desserts and then himself to throw suspicion off of him?"
"Yeah, exactly."
"He might've. I know med school would have taught him a thing or two about how to poison someone. Plus, I'm sure he has plenty of student loan debt. An inheritance would come in handy right about now."
"Your aunt and uncle didn't pay for his schooling?"
"Ha, doubt it. Those two don't share their money with anyone."
"Your family is seriously warped."
"Listen, I have to go," Nick said.
"What do you mean you have to go? You just got here. I mean, what could you possibly have to do? You're dead."
"It's ghost business. You wouldn't understand." Nick gave me a level stare.
"Enough with the ghost business. You're going to play poker with the guys, aren't you?" I squinted my eyes at Nick. Nick had a group of buddies, all deceased of course, who hung around on earth for various reasons. Even in death, the man could not lie to me. His look was a dead giveaway. "Take her with you. I'm sure she would love to play."
"Can't. Guys only."
"Oh, c'mon!" I hissed.
"Just let her hang around the apartment for a couple of hours," Nick countered.
"Are you kidding me? She's going to drive me nuts!" I couldn't even entertain the woman when she was alive. "Don't you know any old lady haunts?" I asked.
"Afraid not. Listen, I have to go. I'll be back in just a few hours, I promise."
The problem with that statement was that a few hours could be anywhere between three and twelve, if not more. I was convinced that ghosts had no sense of time. And who could blame them? When you ha
d an eternity on earth sprawled out before you, who could be bothered to watch the clock. I sighed, resigned to the fact that I would be spending the rest of the evening with Adele.
Nick winked out of existence, and I fought hard not to curse after him.
"Where'd Nick go?" Adele asked, joining Milo and me in the kitchen. Milo had jumped up onto the countertop, forcing me to move the rest of my lunch to the other counter, a change that had him protesting rather loudly.
"Guys night. Looks like it's just us." At that proclamation, Adele transformed into a floating orb.
Don't worry. I feel the same way.
Milo swatted at Adele's glowing orb. She manifested back into head form.
"You stop that right now, Miloimus James." If Adele had a finger, she would've shaken it at him.
Milo hissed at Adele, jumped off the countertop, and hid behind my legs.
"I don't know what's gotten into him lately," she said.
"Probably just startled him." More like scared him to death since you're now a talking head, but I didn't say that.
"He seems to really have taken a liking to you," Adele said. Even I could sense the hurt in her voice.
"Listen, I know how much you love Milo. Is it okay that he's here?" I was terrified of what Adele would say.
"Believe it or not, I made you his guardian."
"You what?" I was shocked. "But why?"
"I saw how much you loved that old cat of yours. Knew you'd do a bang-up job taking care of Milo." I bent down and picked up Milo. He nuzzled my hand to be petted, which I happily obliged. "I mean, you saw my family. They'd have carted Milo off to the pound without a second thought. Glad I outsmarted them." Adele winked, which was a bit discerning given she was just a head, but I smiled in response.
"I'm honored, I really am. I'm already half in love with him." I found myself getting teary-eyed. Milo licked my hand with his sandpaper-like tongue, and I gave him a hug.
"Don't go being a cry baby, now," Adele said.
I ignored her comment and nuzzled Milo some more. A minute later, he twisted in my arms, and I went ahead and set him back down. I knew Adele was still there, floating around, but I chose to ignore her for a moment longer and opted to pour myself a glass of my newly purchased white wine. Hey, it was five o'clock somewhere, right? And no one could say I didn't earn it today.
With my full glass of wine, I joined Adele in the living room. I knew Nick was doing all he could on his end, but neither one of us had, that I knew of, a chance to question Adele yet. I took that moment as my opportunity.
"So what happened yesterday? Were you upset after Margaret quit?" I still thought Margaret was our best lead.
"Upset? Heck no. I should have fired that woman years ago. She was always in the kitchen watching those daytime shows of hers when she should've been dusting the furniture or polishing the silver. Something, anything other than sitting on that fat rump of hers. Waste of space, that one was."
I closed my eyes and counted to ten. Telling off a ghost wouldn't do me any good, I told myself. Hopefully after we figured this mess out, Adele would feel at peace, and she could follow the bright light and get the heck out of here.
"Okay, let's think about this. Who would want you dead?"
"Do you have a pen?"
Oh good gravy. "Let's back up. Where did you get the goodies from?"
"Like I would know that. Do you think I do my own shopping?"
I blinked at Adele and fought the urge to roll my eyes. Now more than ever, I wanted to talk to Margaret. I was about to ask Adele how she felt right before she died, but before I could do that, she was back to being an orb again. It looked like some questions were going to have to wait.
6
The next morning I woke early, even by my standards. It was just after three o'clock. Milo slept curled behind my knees, keeping me nice and toasty warm, and my bedroom was peacefully quiet.
Adele had a hard time keeping her image the rest of the evening and I never did get to question her again. Besides, having a floating orb around most of the night wasn't so bad. I was used to that.
I couldn't believe she was that clueless as to how she died. Going to bed that night, I found myself wondering how common that was. But despite those thoughts, I had slept soundly the last five hours. I usually liked to get eight, which is why I should have just rolled over and fallen back asleep, but I couldn't. Even though I didn't have to be awake and downstairs for two more hours, my brain wouldn't listen. It was fired up and ready to roll. The baking itch was a feeling I hadn't experienced in nearly two years and it had hit me hard. I wanted to get to work. I wanted to create. I needed to get downstairs and get to work.
It took me less than five minutes to throw on a pair of jeans and twist my hair up. I grabbed my fleece on my way down, knowing full well the bakery would be chilly until the ovens warmed everything up.
Milo thought he was coming with me.
"Meow?" he asked, hopefully.
"Sorry, buddy. You have to stay here." I pointed to the landing of steps that led downstairs. "No cats allowed, health department rules." I could just imagine the inspector's face at seeing a cat in my kitchen. No need to worry about a lack of sales shutting me down, he'd do it for me.
Milo didn't care. He followed me anyway.
I stopped halfway down the stairs. "Seriously. You can't come down. I'll get in trouble." Milo sat on his haunches. I took another couple of steps. He did too.
"Go back to bed. I'm just going to work."
Milo stared at me hard, but then stood and turned on his tail and disappeared back upstairs.
With him out of sight, I jogged the rest of the way down the steps and turned the lights on downstairs. The bakery gleamed thanks to all of Ellen's cleaning. I was going to have to give her a generous Christmas bonus.
I had just pulled the butter out of the fridge when I spotted Milo sitting on the bottom step.
"You stinker." I was going to have to walk him back upstairs and shut him on the other side of the door that closed off the lower level from the upper one. I left it open ninety-nine percent of the time as the two spaces shared the same back door and I never had any reason to shut it, but Milo wasn't going to make this easy.
I was about to grab him and cart him back upstairs when he turned in a circle and lay down on the bottom step, immediately shutting his eyes. Technically, he wasn't in the bakery, I argued with myself.
"Okay, but if you put one paw this side of the linoleum, you're getting locked upstairs." Milo blinked at me, and I'd like to believe he understood me.
Then I got to work.
Four hours later, Ellen arrived.
"Oh my goodness, someone's been busy today." Ellen's arms were stacked full of large pastry boxes. She set them on the counter. I raised my eyebrows in question. "I thought we might be busy today, you know, now that word about Adele is out, and um ... I didn't know how our product was going to turn out ..." Ellen let her voice trail off.
"So you went to another bakery and bought out their goods to stock ours?"
Ellen looked sheepish. "I went over two counties."
I thought about it for a minute, wiping my forehead with the back of my hand courtesy of the sticky bread dough on my fingers. It was a thoughtful gesture, even if it was completely unethical and a tad bit fraudulent. Okay, a whole lot of fraudulent, but Ellen's heart had been in the right place.
"Don't worry, I'm not mad. It was actually very nice of you and smart from a business standpoint. But as it is, I have been baking up a storm, and if I do say so myself, the end product tastes fabulous. Here." I wiped my hands off on a tea towel and pulled off a chunk of pumpkin bread that was already baked and cooled and gave it to Ellen to sample. She hesitated then took a nibble. "Goodness, you weren't lying." Ellen's eyes were wide. She popped the rest of the piece into her mouth.
"It all tastes good." I displayed my arms in front of me to show off the countertops. Big, fat, frosted pumpkin-shaped sugar cookies, pear tarts,
apple fritters, pumpkin bread, and my famous cinnamon rolls were all ready to go into the front display cases.
"If fall were a dessert, this is what it would look like," Ellen said with amazement.
"That's exactly what I was thinking."
For the first time in over a year, I wished I had extra staff. We were that busy. It was going to be a sellout. Ellen and I never stopped moving. We took turns ringing customers up, making fresh coffee, and wiping down tables. The bakery was packed, and everyone agreed my goods had never tasted better.
"Maybe Adele cursed you," Betty Jones, the dispatcher, said while I was ringing her up. Being a close friend of my mom's, she knew all about my troubles. "Now that she's dead, you're free from it."
I shrugged as if to say that was a real possibility. I wasn't about to ask Adele about it, though. Thankfully, she and Nick had kept their distance this morning. I wasn't sure I'd be able to handle a full house and Adele.
Betty leaned in close. "You didn't poison her, did you?"
"What? Of course not." I handed Betty her change.
"You know, my sister's an ER nurse at Munson. She said Andrew was poisoned. Antifreeze. He's real lucky he didn't end up going into kidney failure."
"You're kidding me." So the desserts were poisoned. We needed to find out where they came from. It was Betty's turn to shrug her shoulders. She took her cup of coffee and cinnamon roll and joined the rest of the women's guild.
Autumn stopped in during the middle of a momentary lull. And by lull I meant there wasn't a line. The tables were all still full. I motioned for her to join me in the back. Of course, everyone followed us with their eyes, but I didn't look back.
"So did you track down Margaret?" I absentmindedly grabbed a washrag and started cleaning my station. I had gotten used to Ellen taking care of it every day, but today she hadn't had the chance.
Bittersweet Betrayal Page 4