Beatrice took a few long, deep breaths. She had to stay calm, getting the woman to confess everything. She delighted in the fact that she was upstaging the drama queen. There was something so delightful about using someone's strengths against them. Where sweets failed, smarts succeeded.
"I can't believe you brought over your cheesecake from the bakery, just for me," said Genevieve.
"Anything for a friend," said Beatrice, laying her hand on top of Genevieve's. It was ice cold to the touch, despite how warm the house was.
"This is simply delicious," Genevieve said, serving them both up a slice. Beatrice could see where she had run a finger through the icing, taking a dollop for herself.
"It's a little recipe from my family. My husband used to bake with me you know. It was so nice having a partner. I know what it's like to be single and it's not easy," Beatrice confessed. She made sure to keep the tears at the forefront, wiping at them as she spoke.
"Well that's why us gals have to stick together," Genevieve said, giving Beatrice's hand another cold squeeze.
"Don't worry; I'll find you somebody." Now was the time to strike. "Oh, that gentlemen, the pest control one. He's quite handsome. What about him?" She asked as innocently as she could, taking a small nibble of her cheesecake as she did.
Genevieve blushed, almost choking on her cheesecake as she did and Beatrice could feel the tension build in the room. It became so thick that she could have used the cake knife to cut through it. "Oh, he wouldn't have me," Genevieve said, looking everywhere but at Beatrice.
"Why wouldn't he? You're a striking mature woman. I mean you're the president of the local neighborhood watch. You have knowledge of anything and everything that's going on in town. When people come in, and out of town, and with the infestation of pests, he's invited in and out of people's homes. You two would make the perfect partners in crime."
"What are you getting at Beatrice?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. It was as if the woman had the ability to control the weather as Beatrice felt a sudden cold chill run through her. But she couldn't stop now; she had to press on.
"Oh, nothing really. It's just that with your massive debts if you could sell off a few high priced items from people's homes ..."
"I don't know what you're insisting." The acting was poor at best, and the argument was even worse. She had been caught unaware and was doing a miserable job at covering it
up.
"I think you do know exactly what I'm insinuating. He told me everything. How you two were lovers, how he purposely placed rodents in people's homes so you could then push his pest control service. How he then would break in and steal people's most prized possessions. I know it all."
Of course, it was all a lie. She had gotten nothing from the pest control man. But Genevieve didn't know that. And what was more, Beatrice was also quite the actress. In fact, she would wager to say that right now; she was taking the self-confessed drama queen to school.
"You have no evidence of that," she hissed, pushing her chair back with a screech as she quickly stood up. Beatrice could see her breathing heavily, her face turning red. She had gotten to her.
"Oh, but I do. I also have an eyewitness that it was you that shot the victim and threatened my grandson." Beatrice remained seated. She knew that it was important that she stay calm and in control. She couldn't risk this getting out of hand.
But even in her calm state, there was no controlling Genevieve, and in the end, that was Beatrice's big mistake.
"I warned him," she screamed. She turned and stormed across the room to a two seater couch that was decked out in expensive furs. Then, before Beatrice even knew what was happening, she was reaching behind it and pulling out a small handgun, "And he didn't listen. Yes, I killed that witch. And I would have gotten away with it if you hadn't been so nosey." The gun was pointed right at Beatrice now. A squeeze of the trigger and that bullet would go right through her chest.
"Now, Genevieve thinks this through," Beatrice said, sounding a lot calmer than she felt. She suddenly became very aware of how silly she had been coming over here in the first place. She thought that at the very worst there might be some harsh words exchanged. But a gun? She silently prayed to the gods, whichever were listening, that she would make it out of this one alive.
Genevieve took a step closer, and then another. Her finger on the trigger, she held the gun pointed steadily at Beatrice. "Oh, I have Beatrice. Say goodbye—"
Just as she was about to pull the trigger, both the patio and front door flew open as Detective Rogers and two other officers all but flew into the room. Guns out and ready.
"Freeze!"
16
She was sitting on Genevieve's front porch, enjoying a slice of her cheesecake as she watched the show. That show being of course Genevieve getting arrested. Ahhh, what a sight to behold. Beatrice, of course, had never cared too much for the head of the neighborhood watch, and although she had never wished harm on her, there was something oddly satisfying about seeing her get her retribution.
It was once she was seated in the back of the car that Detective Rogers finally approached her. Wearing his usual detective gear, he looked worn out and a little worried.
"Thank God you came on time," said Beatrice with a smug smile on her face as she took another bite of cake.
The detective didn't say anything. He just shook his head, running his hand through his thick head of hair.
If he were about to say something, he was soon interrupted by her grandson, rushing across the front lawn and throwing himself at her. "Are you alright?" He was still wearing the same clothes he had been wearing when he went to sleep, and she wondered how he had found out she was here. News in this small town really did travel fast.
"I am now," she said, hugging him back with her biggest grandmother hug yet.
A second later and Stella and Sophie were also rushing across the front lawn. Sophie was dressed like she was about to go to the beach and Stella was, as usual, overdressed in every conceivable manner – most likely because there were police officers here. "Heavens to Betsy," Sophie said as she threw her arms around Beatrice.
"Well, thank Goodness you're alright," said Stella, joining in on the hug.
"She'll be put away for a long time for what she did and for threatening your grandson, I'll make sure they lock the door and throw away the key," Detective Rogers said, watching the hug from afar. It was only once the three ladies were separated that he took a step closer to the patio, clearly working up the courage to say something else. "So, you and I have unfinished business to attend to.”
"And what's that exactly?" Beatrice asked, a sly smile on her face. She knew exactly what the so-called, unfinished business was.
"Dinner tomorrow night no excuses. Wear something nice, seven o'clock."
If the night had ended right then and there, Beatrice would have considered it to be perfect. But there was still one more surprise to be had.
As she and her grandson made their way back to her house, they noticed someone standing on the front porch, underneath the light. As they got closer, Beatrice was shocked to see that it was her daughter.
“Mom?” Her grandson said, probably more shocked than even she was.
“Heya,” her daughter said as they approached. She kicked at the ground nervously, her hands behind her back; she looked nervous to be there.
“What are you doing here?” He asked, slowly walking up to her. Like a timid animal, he didn’t want to approach too fast, for fear she got scared and ran away.
“Your grandmother told me you were getting out tonight and I wanted to… I wanted to make sure that you were OK.” Her and her son were standing less than two feet apart now. They were both frozen, staring at each other as if unable to believe who they were seeing. “So… how are you?”
Of all the things to happen that night, what happened next was the most surprising to Beatrice. She expected her grandson to be mad and angry at his mother. If he was, she couldn’t have blamed hi
m. She was holding out for some yelling. Beatrice knew that that was how she would have reacted. But no, that didn’t happen at all.
Her grandson leaped forward, throwing his arms around his mother. And his mother reciprocated, both weeping as they held each other. Words weren’t said. Words weren’t even needed.
Once they were able to stop, Beatrice ushered them inside so that the three could talk.
As much as Beatrice’s daughter wanted her son to live with her again, she didn’t think that she was ready. She knew that she could have been a better mom and had decided that it was time she started taking steps toward fixing that.
So it was decided that Beatrice’s grandson would stay with her for the time being, as a temporary measure. But only if Beatrice’s daughter agreed to visit as much as possible. It was an agreement that they all got behind.
It wasn’t until late in the night that her daughter finally left and her grandson went back to bed. With the house finally quiet, Beatrice scooped up Sylvester and made her way into her bedroom. The whole way there she wore the biggest smile on her face; bigger than any she had ever worn.
And how could she not? It wasn't every day that one had their life saved, literally with a second to spare. And it certainly wasn't every day that one rescued their grandson and caught a murderer to boot.
But even if that hadn’t happened, she would still be smiling. She had her cat in her lap and her bird in his cage. She had two best friends that would do anything for her. And more that that she had a grandson who she loved and a daughter who she was learning to love again.
That night, Beatrice had perhaps the best sleep she had had in weeks. It was a sound sleep. It was a peaceful sleep. It was the sleep of someone who had every reason in the world right now to be happy.
THE END
Books in the Cookie Club Mystery Series:
Strawberry Cream Stabbing - GET IT!
Sugar Cream Shooting - GET IT!
Passion Fruit Poisoning
Case of the Sugar Cream Shooting Page 10