Toxic Toffee

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Toxic Toffee Page 7

by Amanda Flower


  “A friend just dropped her off for me to look after. Unfortunately, I don’t have anything to feed her other than a whole-grain rice cake.”

  “Oh, that will never do for a bunny. Let me run over to my house. I have some carrots and broccoli that she will like until you can get some bunny food. You can find it at the farm supply store in Berlin or in a pet store. The farm supply store would be less expensive for you. I had rabbits as a little girl and have always loved them. I can tell you what supplies you will need.”

  Supplies?

  “But before I do that, let me go grab those veggies for this sweet girl.” She jumped up off the floor like a jack-in-the-box and hurried out of the house.

  Puff and I stared at her, wondering what had just happened. Also, I was impressed with her agility. I don’t think I could get off the floor as quickly. Puff and I were alone in my little house for less than five minutes before Penny was back. She came through the front door without knocking first, holding a plastic bag of vegetables. She bustled past me into the kitchen.

  Puff’s ears pointed forward and she quickly hopped after Penny. I guessed she could smell the carrots.

  Penny picked up the plate and threw the rice cake into the trash can under the sink. “My house has the same layout as yours, so I knew your trash would be under the sink.” She smiled, broke up the carrots and broccoli into smaller pieces with her hands, and set those pieces on the little plate before putting it back on the floor. “There you go, little bunny. That should hold you until we can get you something else.”

  Puff hopped over and delicately picked up a piece of carrot with her teeth.

  Penny put the rest of the vegetables in my empty fridge and brushed off her hands over the sink.

  I gaped at her. “Thank you.”

  She smiled. “It’s the least I can do now that we are neighbors. We have to look out for each other since we are both women living alone. I’m a widow, and my daughter moved away to Cleveland. She doesn’t visit me much.” A sad look passed over her face, but it soon cleared. “So, I am very grateful to have a nice girl like you move in next door.”

  “I do appreciate the veggies. That will hold us over until I can get to the store.”

  “When you go, you might want to get a litter box too.”

  I blinked. “A litter box?”

  “I know it isn’t pleasant to talk about, but your rabbit will need somewhere to go to the potty.”

  I grimaced and realized that this little wrinkle should have occurred to me sooner.

  “If you put newspapers down tonight, that should be just fine.”

  I looked down at Puff warily now that I’d heard about the litter box. What other little surprises did this rabbit have in store for me?

  “If she is a house bunny, she should be litter box trained just like a cat. Is she a house bunny?”

  “I—I don’t know. I know her owner was very fond of her. I assume that she lived in the house with him from the way he spoke of her.”

  “Who is her owner?”

  Now I’d stepped into a proverbial litter box. I didn’t know Penny Lehman at all, and I didn’t know that I could trust her. However, it was a fair question and she saved the day by bringing over those carrots. I noted that only the broccoli was left on Puff’s plate. “Stephen Raber,” I said finally.

  Her mouth made a little O shape. “Oh, I know— knew—Stephen. I heard that he passed away today. It’s such a shame. He was such a kind man. He was always so cheerful.”

  That had been my impression of Stephen too, but I had only known him for five minutes before he died. I didn’t think that was enough time to make a fair assessment of his character. “How long have you known Stephen?”

  “Oh goodness, it must be thirty years at least. My family had a little grocery store in Harvest that’s long since closed. Before he had a rabbit farm, Stephen was a vegetable farmer and supplied a lot of our fresh produce. In the summer, he seemed to be at the store every day making a delivery. He was a good man.”

  I swallowed. This woman had known Stephen well for over thirty years. Did that mean she might also know about any mistake he had made in his past? “Can you sit for a minute, so we can chat?”

  She beamed. “I would love to, but it is after nine and I’m sure we are both tired. You need your sleep.” She peered at me over her glasses. “You look all worn out.”

  I felt all worn out too, but I had to ask her about Stephen in case she knew something about his past. “Before you go, I just wondered if you ever heard of Stephen being in any trouble before, like when he was younger.”

  She stared at me. “Goodness, no. Everyone loved Stephen. For an Amish man, he was very outgoing. That’s why my father liked working with him. He was so friendly and kind to customers when he was in the store. He was happy to answer any questions they might have about his crops. In general, the Amish are more standoffish with people they don’t know.” She looked down at her dress. “You might think that I’m Amish from my dress, but I’m Mennonite. There’s a world of difference there.”

  “I guessed that you were,” I said before I went back to the subject at hand. “So, there was no one who disliked Stephen . . . ?”

  She shook her head. “No one that I can think of, and you will be hard-pressed to find anyone to tell you differently. He was well-liked in the community. There will be many people who will be sad to hear of his death.” She clicked her tongue. “Not that it was unexpected.”

  I froze. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Oh, it’s just that he didn’t take care of himself since his wife died. Since then, he’s put on a lot of weight and my guess is his poor heart just gave out.” She opened the door and turned back to me. “Why are you asking so many questions about Stephen?” Her gaze was curious.

  I realized I would have to be careful about what I said around Penny Lehman. It seemed to me that she was a very astute woman.

  I shrugged. “No reason. I guess I wanted to learn more about him since I have his rabbit here.”

  She looked back at Puff, who was in the archway between the living area and kitchen. “It seems strange that you would be taking care of his rabbit if you don’t know what kind of man he was.” The rabbit munched on the broccoli.

  I forced a laugh. “I think you’re right. I’m very tired and should go to bed. Thank you very much for stopping by. I love the honey and jams, and I know that Puff loves the carrots and broccoli.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said before going through the doorway with a concerned look on her face.

  I closed the door behind her and told Puff, “No more guests tonight.”

  She wiggled her nose in return.

  Chapter 12

  With everything that had happened my first day back in Harvest, I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to sleep. My worry was for nothing. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I was out cold.

  The alarm on my phone woke me up far too early the next morning. I grabbed the phone and silenced it and stared at the white ceiling of my new bedroom. It was only the third night I had slept in my new bed. My body ached. The mattress was still hard and needed to be broken in. Even so, I could have fallen right back to sleep had it not been for remembering that Puff-the-Bunny was in my kitchen and might or might not be litter box trained.

  I jumped out of bed.

  I left for Swissmen Sweets an hour later, happy that Puff had used the litter box that I had put out for her the night before. I was also happy that I had an extra box and some kitty litter in the basement from the time I tried to move Nutmeg with me to the little house. The little orange tabby had wanted nothing to do with that plan and shredded a tablecloth in protest. After that I took him back to the candy shop. He seemed much happier there, where he could socialize with more people.

  Before I left for the day, I gave Puff fresh water and the last of the carrots and broccoli. I considered taking her with me, but I didn’t know where I would put her. I didn’t think it was a good idea
to let her loose in the candy shop with Nutmeg there.

  I set a line of unpacked boxes to block the opening from the kitchen into the living room. Puff could have the run of the kitchen but nowhere else. I stepped over the boxes and into the living room. When I looked back, the rabbit seemed to be perfectly content with her surroundings. I shrugged. It was the best I could do. I promised her that I would pick up bunny food while I was out and left for the day.

  When I walked out to the garage, I noticed a curtain moved in the side window of Penny Lehman’s house. I had a feeling that my Mennonite neighbor was going to keep a very close eye on my movements. I also had a feeling it wouldn’t be a long time before her rapt attention got old.

  I pulled my little compact car out of the garage, and I was happy to say that it started right up even after being out of use for six weeks. Usually, I would just walk to the candy shop, but I suspected with Stephen’s murder that I would be going a little farther afield today, and it would be nice to have the car nearby in case I needed to use it.

  As I made the five-minute drive to Swissmen Sweets, I thought about Stephen’s death and the fact that yet again I found myself in the middle of a murder investigation. Eli had brought me in, and to find out who’d killed Stephen Raber, I needed to find out who had sent those notes. I also needed to find out what Stephen had done to warrant the notes and what happened to trigger the notes being delivered to his phone shed.

  I had the windows open as I drove, and as I turned onto Apple Street a light breeze blew, and petals from the apple blossoms floated into my car and around me like snowflakes. On the sidewalk, an Amish woman pushed a plain black stroller down the street and I saw the baby inside kick her legs as if she was dancing to a melody in her head.

  I inhaled the sweet scent of the trees and immediately felt calmer. I loved New York. I loved the hustle and bustle there. In New York, I felt alive, as if I could conquer the world, but here in Harvest, I felt at peace. And I was as surprised as any to learn after all the time I’d spent trying to climb to the top of the chocolate world in the city that peace was what my soul truly craved. The new balance I had struck between living in Harvest and going to New York for weeks at a time to film the television show seemed to be the perfect mix for me. I knew that the show might not be picked up for another season and it certainly wouldn’t last forever, but I would enjoy this balance for as long as it lasted.

  I parked behind an Amish buggy that was tethered to a hitching post on Apple Street and got out of my car.

  I walked to the corner of Main Street. The square was quiet now. The white bunnies were still on the green. Some of the rabbits sat in the middle of their fenced-in pen and plucked clover from the grass with their little bunny teeth, but it seemed that most of the bunnies lay curled up in one of the three hutches in the pen. Seeing how well they were set up for Easter Days made me sad all over again for Stephen Raber. Whatever he might have done to cause someone to write those notes, no one could deny that he loved and cared for all of those rabbits as if they were his pets. It made me determined to take care of Puff for as long as I had her even if I didn’t quite understand why Eli had given me the rabbit for safekeeping.

  It was before nine, the hour when the candy shop would open, but I let myself into Swissmen Sweets with my key. “It’s me!” I called. I didn’t want to scare my grandmother or Charlotte, both of whom lived in the small apartment over the shop. I had lived there too until just recently. In some ways, I missed the convenience of rolling out of bed and stumbling downstairs to make candies in the morning. But what I didn’t miss was not being able to use my hair dryer or having to plug my phone into an outlet in the industrial kitchen because there were none in my grandmother’s apartment.

  “We’re in the kitchen!” Charlotte called from the back of the shop.

  I wasn’t the least bit surprised to hear it. I knew that they had been up for hours prepping the candies for the day, and there would have to be extras made for Easter Days, not to mention the additional orders we had for Easter itself. Easter was just five days away, so we would have to kick into high gear to finish everything on time.

  Nutmeg mewed at me as he met me at the door. I picked up the little cat and hugged him before I set him back on the floor and walked around the counter to the kitchen’s swinging door. Nutmeg watched me from the other side of the counter. He knew that he wasn’t allowed in the kitchen. Somehow my grandmother had trained him to stay on the public side of the counter. He did have free rein of the apartment upstairs, where he spent a good deal of his time lounging in my grandmother’s sitting room window, which looked out onto the square. He liked to watch the world go by. Maybe he was a feline version of my nosy neighbor Penny.

  I pushed open the swinging door and found Charlotte and my grandmother sitting on backless stools around the large stainless-steel island in the middle of the room. They each had a large metal bowl in front of them that they were stirring with wide wooden spoons.

  Charlotte smiled brightly at me and a strand of her red-gold hair slipped from the bun at the nape of her neck. “We’re making the marshmallow fluff to go inside the marshmallow Easter eggs,” Charlotte explained. “Cousin Clara has to keep telling me not to eat it. I just love marshmallow.”

  I picked up a spoon and dipped it into my grandmother’s bowl. I popped the spoon into my mouth. It was perfect.

  My grandmother swatted at me. “Not you too. We will never have enough fluff if the two of you keep this up.”

  I hopped out of range of her next swipe. “It’s quality control. We can’t let any inferior marshmallow have our name on it.”

  “That’s a good one!” Charlotte exclaimed. “I am going to use it next time. Thanks, Bailey.”

  I winked at her.

  Maami put her spoon back into the marshmallow. “Charlotte has been telling me about many of your adventures in New York. She said she’s going to be on the television program quite a bit.” My grandmother’s wrinkled face folded into the slightest hint of a frown, but it was enough for me to recognize her concern.

  When I was given the opportunity to have my own show on Gourmet Television, Linc and the network had wanted to film the Amish community in Harvest as part of it. But my grandmother’s bishop, Bishop Yoder, forbade any of his church members to appear on the program. It wasn’t the Amish way to be filmed; the ban went back to the biblical injunction not to make any graven images of oneself.

  Charlotte wasn’t baptized into the church yet and could get away with being on the program without getting into too much trouble, but it was no secret that the bishop and the other church elders were not happy about it. I chewed on my lip. I knew having Charlotte on the show did make it more authentically Amish, but I certainly didn’t want to do anything that would impact my grandmother’s standing in the district. Unfortunately, since I was her granddaughter, anything that I did or didn’t do reflected on her.

  I swallowed. “Her part was very small,” I said. I gave Charlotte a look.

  Her eyes widened. “Oh yes, I don’t even say anything. Mostly, I helped Bailey prep for the different candies. For the most part, I am in the background. Right, Bailey?”

  That wasn’t entirely true, but I said, “right” in any case. The one advantage I had was that no one from the district would actually see the show because the Amish don’t watch television. Well, I should rephrase that. The Amish aren’t supposed to watch television, but at times they do bend the rules. However, I knew my grandmother and the church elders weren’t the type to bend the rules, so I felt my little fib was safe, at least for the time being.

  I frowned. “I have a lot of toffee to make if I’m going to get that rabbit of Margot’s done.” I went to one of our two industrial refrigerators and opened the door. The bunny head and hindquarters that I’d carved out of white chocolate the day before were still there. I closed the door and sighed.

  “Charlotte and I can work on the toffee between customers today. You concentrate on carving th
e rabbit.”

  “Danki,” I said, using the Pennsylvania Dutch word for “thank you.”

  My grandmother smiled as she always did whenever I spoke Amish. Her brow wrinkled. “Was that all you were worried about, dear? You look upset.”

  “I saw Aiden last night. . . .”

  “Oh no!” Charlotte cried. “Don’t tell me you and Aiden broke up. That would be horrible. I think Juliet would never recover.”

  I shook my head. “No, Aiden and I didn’t break up.”

  “Oh!” Charlotte said. “Then you are engaged! How exciting!”

  I held up my hands and waved them in the air. “I’m not engaged either!”

  “That will make Juliet sad,” Charlotte said thoughtfully. “She really wants the two of you to have a June wedding. She even talked to Cousin Clara and me about the possible dessert list. She wanted to know all your favorite treats.”

  “Let’s not rush things. Aiden and I are fine just as we are.” I waved my arms some more. Aiden and I had only been officially dating since Christmas, and it was April. I didn’t think a wedding was on the near horizon in either one of our minds. His mother had been wanting us to get married for months before we even decided to date each other.

  “Emily and Daniel Keim had only courted for a few weeks before they married, and now they are very happy together.”

  “No offense, but they’re Amish,” I said.

  My grandmother chuckled, and Charlotte made a confused face. I wasn’t sure whether the young Amish woman understood how different the two cultures were. Really, if I married before I was thirty years old, I would be surprised. I was twenty-eight, and I was in no hurry. If, and that was a big “if” so early in our relationship, Aiden and I did marry someday, the next thing Juliet would be harping about would be grandchildren, and I was nowhere near ready for that. I thought Juliet should focus more of her attention on her relationship with Reverend Brook than Aiden’s and mine. Juliet continued to insist that Reverend Brook was a good friend, but everyone in the village knew it was more than that.

 

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