by Maymee Bell
Aisle three was always the baking aisle. I’d spent many of my paychecks in that very aisle. I was happy to see it was still there. It looked like they’d added a wine section, which deserved a little perusal before I left. Madison and I definitely needed a little swig.
I gathered up all the ingredients to make chocolate chip cookies and a little red food dye and I was ready to go check out the wine selection. That was a big step forward in Rumford. It hadn’t been until I was well into my teens that Rumford had become a wet city. Most of the counties in Kentucky were still dry. It’d really boosted the economy. My dad had been the lawyer on the side of the people who’d wanted it wet, and he’d gotten it done.
“Lawyer.” I let out a little gasp and took out my phone. I wanted to find out what Evelyn had told my dad. “I need to talk to my dad,” I whispered to myself.
Scrolling through my contacts, I’d walked a little past the wine aisle. I took a couple of steps back and saw someone checking out the selection from the corner of my eye. Without hitting the call button, I looked down the aisle, where Carter had two bottles of wine in his hands. He was looking between the two. There was a pretty intense look on his face. He wasn’t dressed in his uniform. He had on a pair of khakis along with a very nice pair of brown loafers and a blue button-down that showed off his dark features. His hair was even gelled.
I would have known that look from anywhere. Men who came to The Manhattan dressed like that, and those who took extra time to look at the wine bottles were there to impress a woman.
My excitement for baking suddenly took a quick spiral down. Not that I’d thought he was interested in me, but the flirting sure had been nice. Why did I care? I brushed it off and made a beeline to the refrigerated section and grabbed a premade roll of chocolate chip cookie dough. Luckily the Piggly Wiggly had put in a U-Scan line, and since no one but me, the one lady working the lane, and Carter were in the store, I quickly made my purchases and got out of there as fast as I could. With my head down.
Madison was exactly where she’d dropped me off, fiddling with her lipstick and the mirror in the visor.
“Go.” I hurried her up. “I don’t think we’re going to have time to bake a batch from scratch, so I grabbed a premade roll and some food coloring.”
“But I wanted your recipe.” There was a sad tone to her voice. “I’d love to watch you in your process.”
“Then you’ll have to come visit me when I bake Bryce’s cake.” I slumped down in the seat as she drove past the sliding doors of the store just in case Carter was walking out.
“Wow. Your mood just went south.”
“I’m sorry,” I apologized, knowing I was taking my annoyed and unchartered feelings I seemed to have developed for Carter out on her. “I’m tired and I really want to make sure Charlotte’s wedding is a go.”
“I’m helping you. Remember?” She was good at reminding me.
“Yes. And that’s why I’m going to bake Bryce’s cake. So after we get these baked, do you mind dropping me back off at the bakery so I can look around at the ingredients to see what I need?” The Big Bird cake was going to take more than what I’d seen on the shelf. “That way, when I’m done, I can jog back to my parents’ to finish the run I started.”
It was a solid plan.
“Sounds good.” She sped toward Charlotte’s neighborhood.
We didn’t say a word to each other until we pulled into the driveway.
“This sure is a cute house.” I stood next to the car waiting for Madison.
She was busy fumbling around in the car, grabbing some papers, a briefcase, her phone, and whatever else she could fit in her hands. While she took her sweet time, I took a good look at the house. The pale-yellow house was the smallest in the neighborhood. There were two windows on each side of the front door with wooden window boxes under both of them filled with an assortment of wildflowers. There were some pink and white wild cosmos, teal blue forget-me-nots, purple coneflowers, a few red poppies, and some black-eyed Susans.
A few butterflies fluttered around the boxes. It was beautiful.
Underneath the window box on the right side of the door was a small fountain set in a bed of river rocks. The gurgling water flowed from the top and spilled into a pool of water at the base of the fountain where the water circulated.
On the left side of the house, there were a couple of small bushes to even out the landscape.
“Adorable, right?” An exhausted Madison stood next to me with her hands full.
I strapped the grocery bags on my wrists and took a few of her things from her.
“When I was a kid, I always thought this house was a shed or some sort of garage,” I recalled.
It was true. As I said, it was the smallest house on the street and the paint on the clapboards had been peeling, faded, and practically falling off.
“Years ago it was the carriage house to the mansion that was right over there. Then some developer bought the land to build all of the Cape Cods after doing the business dealings with Brett. They tore down the mansion because it was out-of-date and old, but they kept the carriage house for a tool shed while they built the houses around it.” She tilted her chin left to right. “Brett took interest in the carriage house and saw potential. He was right. Plus, the only lake in the entire neighborhood is right behind it, so that’ll help sell it too.”
“I didn’t even notice a lake.” My brows furrowed.
“It was so overgrown back when we were kids that we had no idea it was back there until Charlotte’s fiancé decided to revitalize the neighborhood.” She jerked her head to the side. “We better hurry up and get in there.”
It just so happened to be forty-five minutes until her client was supposed to be there. I’d be able to get the food coloring mixed really well into the premade dough, ball it up, and stick it in the oven with a few minutes to spare. The house was going to smell amazing.
“This is really a great kitchen.” I looked around.
I was amazed at all the baking supplies she’d used to stage the place. It was every dream appliance I’d have loved to have in my own house when I had a big enough kitchen.
Madison simply smiled. “I’m pretty good at staging when a house really speaks to me. This is a kitchen that needs a lot of fun baking in it.” She pointed down the hall. “Could you imagine a little kitty in the window seat? Oh my God, adorable,” she gushed.
“Actually”—I nodded my head—“I can.”
The image of me baking new ideas in the kitchen had occupied my mind the entire time we’d been there. I’d even pictured Duchess on the window seat. If it hadn’t been for that image, I’d almost have fooled myself into thinking this house was meant for me. Bitsy would never get rid of Duchess.
Madison walked around the house while I finished up the final baking. For good measure, I added a few chocolate chips on top. It made the perfect-looking cookie, as if they’d been baked like that. It was those little details that had helped me stand out from the others in my culinary class.
The door to the pantry was the cutest repurposed screen door. The screen had been replaced by a chalkboard with the word PANTRY painted in white at the top. I picked up the piece of chalk and wrote WELCOME HOME.
“There’s even an adorable milk glass cake platter in here!” I yelled into the kitchen from the walk-in pantry.
All the shiplap walls were exactly the right touch to make this house cozy and sweet. I actually envied the person who bought it. For a second I thought about burning the last batch of cookies to ruin the smell.
I pushed the idea aside because I’d never have the guts to burn delicious cookies. I grabbed a potholder from the drawer and carried the sheet of cookies over to the platter, tripping on a small rug in the middle of the floor.
Luckily, I didn’t drop the cookies. I put them on the counter, bent down to straighten the rug back, and noticed a small door.
“What on earth is this?” I asked about the strange discovery when Madiso
n came in with a look of “What in the world was that noise?” on her face.
“That’s the door to the cold cellar.” She tapped the toe of her shoe on the opening. “It’s pretty neat. It’s still cold to this day, since it’s underground. There’s some shelving down there, with nothing on it, of course.”
“Is there electric?” I questioned, thinking it would be a great refrigerator for baking ingredients that needed to be kept cold. It was perfect so they wouldn’t take up space in the cabinet and refrigerator or even the pantry.
“Oh, no. Just a cold cellar.” She shrugged and eyed my cookies.
There was about five minutes until her client’s appointment. There was no time to let them cool on the cooling rack. Quickly I swiped the spatula under each baked cookie and placed it on the milk glass cake platter. It was too pretty not to use.
After I filled the platter, I took a step back and looked at it. The cookies had turned out a lot better than I’d thought they would since I’d used the cut-and-slice dough.
“Please come in.” I heard Madison’s voice and quickly grabbed up the dirty baking tray and utensils, shoving them in the oven for hiding before the potential clients walked into the kitchen.
“Oh, who cares. If they are going to live here, it’s going to be dirty sometimes,” I said to myself and took the tray and spatula out of the oven, sticking them on the stove.
I even left the soap suds in the sink.
“This is the kitchen.” Madison smiled before her eyes focused on the mess and the clumps of cookie dough on the counter I’d yet to wipe up.
Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened before she closed her mouth and gulped.
“Umm…” she didn’t really know what to say when the couple stepped in.
They couldn’t’ve been more than my age. I knew that a kitchen would sell the house to the wife. Right now this particular kitchen wasn’t spotless.
“My friend is a baker and she…” Madison was at a loss for words.
“Cookie?” I picked up the platter. “Freshly baked.” I stuffed one in my mouth.
I glared at the couple and felt a twinge of jealousy, not only for their happiness but for the fact that this woman might be the one baking in my … I meant, this … kitchen.
The man and woman looked between each other. Their eyes were shifty and a fake smile curled on their lips.
“Where is the master bedroom?” The wife asked Madison.
“Cookie?” I asked again, and practically shoved the dish in the woman’s face.
She shook her head and followed Madison’s finger as Madison pointed down the hall.
After the man and women stepped out of eyesight, Madison jerked around.
“What happened in here? It’s a mess.” There was a deep-set worry on her face. Her eyes searched mine for any explanation.
“You told me to bake, so I baked.” I shrugged, and when she darted down the hall toward the master bedroom, I leaned on the counter with a smile on my face. I reached for a warm cookie and enjoyed every single bite.
After the couple were through with the tour, Madison showed them the outside while I cleaned up my mess and tried to reason with myself. Why was I so upset about the potential buyers? Yes, if I’d had a house, this would have been the exact kitchen I’d have wanted, but I didn’t own this house. Now I felt bad because I could’ve just ruined it for Madison.
“Damn.” Madison walked in. “They aren’t going to buy.” She snarled her nose and made pouty lips.
“Are you kidding?” I asked. She shook her head. “This kitchen is enough to sell the house.”
“You mean the kitchen they saw before you cleaned it up. The one where it seemed like it was your kitchen?” She looked at me. Her eyes narrowed as though she were studying some sort of idea in her head.
“No. Forget it.” She sat down on one of the bar stools and shoved a cookie in her mouth.
“Forget what?” I asked.
“Say.” She lifted her head and her eyebrows rose. “You really like it and it’s perfect for one person. Why don’t you just buy it and save us all the trouble?” She smiled.
“You’re crazier than a bedbug.” I shook my head, but I wasn’t convinced that I meant it.
For a brief second, I’d already made the kitchen mine. I looked out the window over the sink and noticed the sun had almost set. My heart dropped at the amazing sight of the last of the day’s rays spread across the still and calm water of the lake Madison had told me about earlier.
There was a small porch off the back of the house and a small café table and chairs with a black-and-white-striped umbrella. I pictured myself sitting there in the wee hours of the morning sipping coffee and watching the geese on the lake.
“Did you write WELCOME HOME on the chalk board?” she asked through a mouthful of cookie, bringing me out of the pretend life I’d conjured up in my head.
“Yeah,” I muttered.
I took a cookie and broke it in half before I took a bite, hoping it would help get the ridiculous idea out of my head. I had a great job. I had a great life outside Noah’s cheating. I was happy. At least I thought I was happy.
“It was supposed to be a subliminal message to the clients,” I said, leaving off the part that maybe my message had sunk into my own head.
“You are a good friend.” She took another cookie. “And I’ve got other property to show, so why don’t you live here for the next week or so? That way Bitsy gets her house back. You can come and go as you please.”
She picked up the key and dangled it in front of me.
“It’s perfect for you while you’re here. Kinda like one of those fancy Airbnb’s I’ve seen on the Travel Channel.” She jiggled the key more.
It was like a worm and I was like a fish, dying to take the bite.
“It’s late. There’s towels in there and an empty comfy bed. And for staging purposes I even have some extra running clothes and some jeans and tees that are probably your size hanging in the bedroom closet.” Her brows rose. “Tomorrow I can take you to get a loaner car from Poochie’s Garage.” All of her words were so enticing. No wonder she was good at sells. “You can bake here, bake at Ford’s and the RCC. And also do that make-believe sleuthing stuff you’ve been up to without hiding it.”
“Really? The owners won’t care if I live here for the next week?” It sounded exactly what I needed and too good to be true.
“Nope, and it’s a shame we didn’t run into each other quicker than the Junior League meeting.” She tossed the keys my way and I caught them. “You could’ve been staying here this whole time.”
The keys felt like home when I gripped them and let the feeling sink deep into my soul.
“I have to pay rent or something,” I suggested.
“You’re making Bryce’s cake. Consider your stay here paid in full.” Her smile reached her eyes.
“Then what are we waiting for?” I asked, and walked over to the chalkboard. “We’ve got a murder to solve.”
On the very top, I wrote OPERATION WEDDING, and underneath I wrote down everything I’d written on the piece of paper at the old Ford’s Bakery waiting for Madison to come pick me up.
“You are a little CSI baker,” Madison joked after I stepped away from the chalkboard and looked at my list of suspects and their motives.
Her eyes scanned down it. Her lips muttered every word I’d written.
“We really can’t cross Natalie off our list.” I jabbed Natalie’s name with the piece of chalk. “She said she didn’t have an affair. Who wouldn’t say that if they were caught? But if Arnold did catch them together and he killed him, she’d for sure cover up her husband’s big mistake. She’d never make it on her own.” I looked down my list. “I need to go see Ella.”
“You know.” Madison’s mouth dropped. “Ella loves to shop. Particularly at Peacocks and Pansies. So much so that she works there half a day on Friday.”
“And I do need to go look at that dress Carol said would fit me lik
e a glove for the wedding.” It sounded like a plan was coming together to question Ella about her relationship with Emile.
“Yes, you do.” Madison winked and took another cookie.
I ripped a paper towel off the holder that was shaped as a spoon and walked over to the chalkboard to erase what I’d written.
“Don’t!” Madison’s yell stopped me. “Leave it. Maybe for the next few days I can come over for a glass of wine and girl time until you go back to your awful life.”
“Awful life?” I giggled. “Wine and girl time sounds great. Spy girl and wine time.”
“Spy girls. Southern spy girls,” she added.
Chapter Fifteen
After Madison left me alone in the house, I couldn’t help but walk around and imagine myself in every single room. It was as if the house had been built and decorated just for me. Bitsy took the news about me living in the house much better than I’d anticipated, though she did make me promise that I’d come by in the morning to help her put together the free little libraries for the Friends of the Library Club. That afternoon, she wanted me to help her put them up around Rumford, which was code for me doing it by myself without her help or with her just pointing, giving directions.
The next morning, I woke up thinking about Ella and what I was going to say to her, someone I’d never met. There wasn’t a better time for me to clear my head and put on my thinking cap than a quick morning jog before Madison got here to pick me up to take me to get a rental car. It’d do me good to clear my confused thoughts and emotions I seemed to be having about Carter and Rumford.
The fresh morning air was perfect for a run.
I tucked the house keys back into my pocket and put feet to pavement. The light breeze felt good on my sweaty neck as I headed out of town on a country road.
As soon as I jogged past the city limit sign, the air was a bit nippier. The trees made a bridge over the old road, shielding me from any sort of warmth the morning sun had intended. Crickets and cicadas were in harmonious sync as they sang the dawn away into the day. My feet beating on the pavement were the bass to their song. The problem with running was that I could get lost for hours in the sounds of nature and feel it in my soul. This morning was just a quick run, so I turned around and headed back.