Sconed to Death

by Lynn Cahoon

  “That’s not what I’m hearing.” Dee Dee seethed. “It’s all over town.”

  “Maybe you should check your sources before you come over to my kitchen and start causing trouble.” Shauna tried to step forward, but Cat’s hand on her stomach stopped her.

  “Shauna, you should be more open to discussing this.” When Shauna glared at Cat, she shrugged. “I think maybe you just identified the problem. Dee Dee, who told you about Shauna stealing your recipes?”

  “Sure, you’d like it if I told you, then something bad could happen to the woman and I’d probably be to blame.” Dee Dee stepped toward the door. “You just remember, you’re on notice. If I find one recipe of mine in your rotation, I’m going to sue. Both of you.”

  Cat and Shauna watched as Dee Dee stormed out. Cat tried on a laugh for measure. “Well, that was interesting.”

  “The woman is crazy. She tried to sue the grocery store, saying they stole her bread recipe for the in-store bakery. But the store got it from their chain headquarters and proved that to her lawyer, so she had to back down.” Shauna sank into her chair and glanced up at the cabinet where she kept the scotch whiskey. “The woman is a menace.”

  “Well, you haven’t stolen any of her recipes, right?”

  When Shauna didn’t answer right away, Cat came to sit beside her. “Shauna? What’s going on?”

  “There’s really only a few ways to make a scone. And maybe I had one there and then came home and tried to replicate it. Of course, mine’s way better than what she serves in that shop of hers.” Shauna tried a weak smile. “Isn’t imitation the best form of flattery?”

  Chapter Two

  Seth got back with the guests right before the pizza delivery from Reno’s arrived, so as Shauna and Cat checked them in and handed each guest a key, Seth helped take the baggage up to their rooms. Bren Baker was the first to step up to the registration desk. Bren was an attractive woman with short black hair. She had a rock on her finger that must have run the buyer back a few bills. Cat handed her a registration card.

  “I know you write cozy mysteries, but do you want to tell me what type?” Cat watched as the woman pulled a pen out of a very expensive purse or a very good knockoff.

  “I’m the small-town queen of the group. My series is set in Texas, outside Dallas.” She frowned at the markings, then, looking around to see who was watching, pulled out a pair of glasses.

  “Uh oh, Bren’s pulling out the cheaters. She’s getting serious.” The woman behind her laughed as Cat handed her a form to complete as well. “Bren hates to mar her beauty with glasses.”

  “Boys don’t make passes at girls who wear glasses,” Bren shot back at her friend. “You should know that, Colleen. I’ve tried to coach you on how to score your next husband enough times.”

  “Bren, the only men who are here are Rick and our driver, Seth.” Colleen turned to Seth, who was bringing in the last load of luggage. “Seth, that’s your name, right?”

  “Yes, it’s Seth. And no, I’m not on the market. My dance card has been taken away by that lovely lady who’s giving out the registration cards.” He slapped the other man, Rick, on the arm. “Thanks for helping with the luggage, man.”

  “No problem. I’m sure you have to carry a bunch all by yourself. It’s not usual to find a male author at one of these, right?” Rick took the card Cat handed him and pulled a pen out of his shirt pocket.

  “Actually, we get a lot of men for the retreats. Getting away to write isn’t only a female author’s plan.” She smiled and handed the next to last card to the woman who seemed to be holding up the wall. “You must be Anne Rosen. The e-mail you sent me was lovely.”

  The woman, a light blonde with an even lighter skin tone, nodded. “Thank you for having this. I am so excited to get to writing. I’m setting up a new series for a proposal and I want it to be so amazing, the publisher can’t turn me down.”

  “Anne, you could send in your grocery list and they’d publish it.” Colleen handed the completed card to Shauna.

  “Thanks. Now I just need your credit card and I’ll get you a room key.” Shauna held out her hand as Bren glared at her friend.

  “I was first in line,” Bren muttered.

  Colleen shrugged and handed her card to Shauna. “You snooze, you lose. Besides, this way I get to chat with Seth as he helps me upstairs to my room. Maybe he has friends who’d like to date a slightly pudgy author who tends to lose everything she puts her hands on except for plot bunnies.”

  Shauna handed her back her card and a receipt to sign. Then she handed Seth a room key. “Seth grew up here. I bet he knows a lot of eligible bachelors.”

  “I’m not much of a matchmaker.” He blushed and picked up the bags that had Colleen’s name on them. “Let’s get you settled so you can come down and eat. Reno’s has the best pizza in town.”

  The two walked off toward the stairs and Bren handed Shauna her card. “Leave it to Colleen. She always has to be first. She was the first in the group to get a contract. The first to publish. She’s a tad competitive.”

  “Yeah, but you got a better contract and a marriage proposal from that rich guy. Maybe slow and steady wins the race.” Anne spoke softly and Cat could hear the soothing in the tone. This wasn’t the first time they’d had this tiff and Anne was the one who patched it all together. Cat was sure of it.

  She waited for Bren to sign her credit card receipt. Then she took the key from Shauna. “Let me help you to your room. Seriously, you are not going to want to miss Reno’s pizza.”

  Shauna nodded and turned toward Anne as Cat and Bren moved toward the stairs.

  “You have a lovely home. Has it been passed down in your family?” Bren rubbed the polished wood of the stair rail.

  “No. I got it when my ex-husband passed a year ago.” She smiled as she started up the stairs. “It’s a long story, but I’m sure you’ll hear most of it before you leave on Sunday. Are you originally from Cincinnati?”

  “No, why would you ask that?” Bren’s tone turned to ice.

  Crap, Shauna must have been right. This group was from Chicago. “Sorry, I got mixed up there. You guys don’t live in Cincinnati?”

  “Of course not. There’s no way I’d be from such a small town.” Bren checked her watch as they walked to her room. “I write about the places. I don’t want to live there. We’re all from Chicago. Oak Park, specifically.”

  Cat opened the door and turned on the lights. She showed her the bathroom and set her luggage on the bed. “Let me or Shauna know if you need anything. We’re at your service this week so you can get as many words in as you want.”

  Bren nodded, then checked her watch again. She reached for the key Cat held. “Sorry, I need to make a private call.”

  She’d been dismissed. Cat wondered how Bren was received in this writers’ group she was part of. Hopefully she’d relax and be a little friendlier as the week went by. Cat decided to chalk it up to being tired from the traveling and she’d give Bren the benefit of the doubt.

  Seth was coming up the stairs with Anne and her luggage. Rick was following behind the two. Cat moved over to the side as they passed. “Looks like you have the last two handled.”

  “I’m efficient like that.” Seth grinned at her. “The pizza arrived a few minutes ago and I’m hungry.”

  “Then let’s get this party going.” Cat waited for Rick to pass before going down to the first level. There she found Shauna talking to a young girl who must be the Covington College student. Each session, Cat opened a slot for a student Covington chose in exchange for a lecture from one of their English professors and full use of the library during each session. So far, it had been a beneficial exchange. Especially since Covington also paid the room and board charge for the student.

  “Cat, this is Molly Cannon. She’s our Covington guest.” Shauna smiled at the girl. “She’s been telling me what a big fan she is of your work.”

  When Molly turned toward her, the shock and astonishment on
her face was laughable, but Cat turned it into a welcoming smile. “Molly, we’re so happy to have you. What do you write?”

  “I’m writing a young adult, but I’m not as good as you are. I love Tori and her stories.” The girl swallowed. “It’s such an honor to meet you. I mean, I knew you owned this place, but I didn’t think I’d actually get to meet you. I thought you were some sort of figurehead or something. You know, like James Patterson, only with the retreat? He has a lot of people writing for him, so I thought . . .”

  Cat saw her take a deep breath, then shake her head.

  “Sorry, I’m rambling.” She took another breath. “I’m very happy to meet you.”

  “Same here. If you’re a Tori fan, I’d be glad to sign your books if you have them with you. I do a workshop on Wednesday to talk about an author’s life. You might be interested in what I have to say.”

  “Oh, definitely.” Her head bobbed several times.

  What was it with this group? One was a stone-cold witch—okay, she appeared to be one. And one was a rabid fan. It was going to be an interesting week. “I can show you to your room if you’d like.”

  The front door opened and the flower shop delivery guy came inside.

  Shauna nodded to him and grabbed a key. “You take care of the flowers and I’ll show Molly to her room.”

  The disappointment was obvious on Molly’s face but she followed Shauna toward the stairs.

  Cat heard Shauna’s next words. “You know I’m Cat’s best friend. I bet I can tell you some stories about her that you’d love to hear.”

  “Really?” The awe in Molly’s voice was evident. And Cat realized Shauna had taken the heat off her. Molly would be hanging around Shauna for inside information on her favorite author.

  “Two dozen roses.” The delivery guy put the vase on the registration desk. “You must be starting up one of those retreat sessions.”

  “Yeah, it’s a tradition.” She handed him a ten-dollar bill. The roses came every month like clockwork before the opening day of the retreat. Linda Cook, wife of the late author Tom Cook, sent them. At first, Cat thought it was in tribute to her husband, who’d died at the first retreat, but now, she thought it was a blessing on the success of the retreat. Either way, Cat loved the gesture and the flowers.

  She glanced around the registration desk, then put all the cards and receipts in the top drawer and shut it. Shauna would take care of the paperwork soon. Right now, it was time to eat pizza and get to know the guests. Her stomach was growling, but she thought it would be rude to be the first one eating.

  She went into the dining room and saw the line of pizzas and salad on the table. Shauna had already set out plates, forks, and napkins. And a tub of sodas and waters sat in the corner of the room. She grabbed a Coke and took several sips, hoping the rest of the group would arrive soon, before she succumbed to the smell of cheese and tore into a slice.

  She didn’t have to wait long. Seth and Rick were the first ones down and Molly and Shauna followed. Cat pointed to the plates. “Get your food while it’s hot.”

  By the time most of the guests had returned, Cat was sitting at the table with Molly on one side and Anne on the other. Bren still hadn’t come down from her room.

  Colleen sat her pizza down and looked around. “Where’s Bren?”

  “She had a call,” Cat answered.

  Anne and Colleen exchanged a look. “Figures,” Anne muttered as she started on her salad.

  “What do you mean?” Cat lowered her voice just in case Anne didn’t want the entire table to hear her answer.

  “Let’s just say Bren is in a relationship with a short leash. I’m actually surprised he let her come at all. He’s very particular on what she does and when.” Anne shook her head. “Not my circus and definitely not my monkey. I would have left him the first time he pulled this crap.”

  Cat wondered if that accounted for the distance she’d felt with Bren. Her mother used to always say that everyone was fighting their own battles. She decided she needed to be more charitable with first impressions.

  The mood had darkened a bit after the question about Bren, so Cat glanced at Shauna. “Do you want to talk a bit about what’s going to happen tomorrow? I think all of you are attending Shauna’s cooking demonstration, right?”

  Cat had aimed the question at Molly since she knew the other writers had signed up specifically for the cooking demo section.

  Molly nodded vigorously. “I’m so excited about it. I mean, I don’t write about food, but food is part of our lives, right? A big part, and if you’re writing a full character, what they eat makes a big statement about who they are.”

  “So since I love pizza, if I was a character in Cat’s books, that would tell the reader something about me?” Seth glanced at Cat. “I don’t understand.”

  “Molly’s right. Food can help build a picture of a character. Let’s say instead of pizza, you cooked your own food, only from what you could raise or hunt. You had very little food from the store. That would be a different guy than the one who ate out every night at a local diner reading a book.” Cat expanded on the idea.

  “Do you interview your characters before you write about them?” Anne asked.

  “Actually, no. I’m a bit of a pantser. I let the characters form while I’m writing. But some people find that helpful. What about you?”

  Colleen laughed. “Anne spends more time getting ready to write than she does actually writing the book. You should see her charts. They’re scary.”

  “Everyone has their own process.” Cat smiled at Anne, but deep inside, she agreed with Colleen. She had never understood plotters. By the time they figured out the story, Cat would have been tired of it. She liked the mystery of her process. She never knew one day to the next how the story was going to twist and turn.

  “My process definitely slows me down. I’m hoping this week to try out some different practices for this new story I’m starting. It might not work, but I’d like to be a faster writer. I’ll try anything.” Anne picked up her slice of cheese pizza and folded it lengthwise. “This tastes like Chicago pizza.”

  “That’s because Reno started in Chicago. He moved out here ten years ago to get away from the cold winters. He may have misjudged Colorado winters.” Seth took a slice of the everything pizza and then stood to take the empty box into the kitchen. “I think the real reason he came out here was his wife was from these parts and he followed her out west.”

  “That’s romantic.” Colleen beamed. “I like a touch of romance for my stories. True or not, everyone needs a happily ever after.”

  “You read too many fairy tales as a kid.” Rick shook his head. “Real life doesn’t work like the movies. You have to fight for a relationship.”

  “Speaks the man who hasn’t had a date in the last year.” Anne’s words might have sounded harsh, if the tone hadn’t shown the care behind them.

  He shrugged. “I’m waiting for the perfect woman. One who isn’t challenged by my softer side.”

  “You just want someone who’s rich so she can support you,” Colleen teased.

  Rick held up a hand. “I promise not to turn away any megarich women who want to sponsor my writing habit and use me as a boy toy. I am totally in line for that. I could quit my job at the car rental place and just write.”

  “How many of you have a non-writing job?” Cat always wondered how people fit in being creative when they had to go to the cube farm every day and be productive for a living wage. She knew many authors who combined teaching with writing. And a number of lawyers who wrote at night, hoping for that one big break.

  “I work a full work week. Not that I want to, but my writing isn’t paying the bills. Yet.” Rick nodded at Anne. “Tell her where you work, Anne.”

  “I work as a server at one of the upscale restaurants downtown. And the tips are totally worth it since I live outside downtown. I’m putting as much as I can away in my IRA so hopefully, when I’m old, I won’t have to wait tables.”
Anne pointed at Colleen. “She’s got the best job ever.”

  “Oh, what do you do?” Cat turned toward Colleen, who looked like she wished she had disappeared out of the dining room before she was asked.

  “I work for a bookseller. It’s crap pay, but it’s all they can really afford. And if it’s slow in the store, they don’t mind if I write. It’s the best of both worlds.”

  “We have our local independent bookstore owner who comes in on Friday to discuss the fate of the book market. She’s been very well received from other guests.” Cat looked up and saw Bren coming into the dining room. She sat at the edge of the table closest to the door and took a slice of the pizza that was in front of her. “Hey, Bren. Glad you could join us. We’re talking about what other jobs you hold besides the writing.”

  “I only write.” Bren glanced down at her plate. “I like the solitude.”

  “Bren has a sugar daddy,” Rick teased. Then yelped as he leaned down to rub his leg where Colleen had kicked him. “What? We all know it’s true. There’s no shame in having a relationship with someone who gets you.”

  Unless that relationship isn’t very positive, Cat thought. But she kept that thought to herself. She wasn’t here to solve everyone’s problems. Her job was to make sure that the group had a good time and hopefully, got some words down.

  “He’s not a sugar daddy. He just would rather me stay home and nearby than go have a job and not be available to him.” Bren didn’t look up. “Let’s just leave it at that and talk about something else.”

  Cat glanced at the clock. Almost eight. Time to get them moving toward the living room and the movies. “Shauna set up a few movies for your choosing for a treat if you want after dinner.”

  “I’m going back to my room,” Bren announced. “I have several things I want to get done before I sign off for the day.”

  “I’m in.” Rick stood and grabbed one of the brownies. “Can we take food out of the dining room?”