by Emmie Lyn
Hitch’s gaze stayed on the intruder. “Yeah, I know her, and I’ve got a bad feeling. But, don’t worry, Sunny, I’ll get rid of her. Take Jasper and go ahead inside and check on the kittens.”
Go inside? Not on your life, Hitch. He couldn’t ditch me that easily. I wasn’t going to miss finding out what this was all about first-hand. “What’s her name?”
“Ginger Ross,” he said with a look that said just saying her name tasted like a stale moldy donut.
“Come on Jasper.” I opened the door so she could squeeze out of the back of the Camaro. If my guess was right, Ms. Ginger Ross was not going to be pleased when Jasper gave her a hearty welcome. I laughed to myself at the image of black Newfoundland hairs on that fancy dark green skirt or silky cream blouse.
It went better than I expected because Jasper beat Hitch to our visitor. She gave a friendly woof but to the untrained ear, it sounded more like a foghorn. Jasper followed it up with one of her enthusiastic greetings. Threads of drool flew through the air and landed on our haughty visitor’s skirt, leaving dark lines of wet slobber from the waistline to the hem.
Ginger pinched her lips together.
I covered my laugh.
And, right on time, Tilly, top down and radio blaring, screeched to a stop next to Hitch’s car, sending a cloud of dust blowing Ginger’s way. The look on her face as she flicked particles of Shakes and Cakes fine gravel off her blouse said it all with one glare at Tilly—anger, disgust, and maybe a touch of hatred.
Ginger marched to Tilly’s car, yanked her door open and stared at her over the steering wheel. “You’re a menace. You shouldn’t have a license.”
Tilly slowly pushed the scarf off her gray hair, adjusted her sunglasses, and looked up at Ginger. “And you are?”
“Ginger Ross,” she said as if we should all bow down like she was royalty or something. “I’m here to talk to Hitch.”
“Well, la-di-diddly-da,” Tilly said and held her hand toward Ginger, obviously asking for assistance getting out of her car. Of course, Ginger had no way of knowing that Tilly was far from a feeble old lady. Puzzled but polite, Ginger leaned forward to help Tilly, who accidentally, on purpose I think, tripped, sending the coffee in her open cup right onto the front of Ginger’s outfit. Well, at least now she matched with dark stains on her silky blouse and her slobbery skirt.
A snort snuck out. I know it wasn’t the proper thing to do, but the expression of complete shock on Ginger’s face sent me over the edge and I lost any possibility of control.
Tilly pulled a cotton handkerchief out of her skirt pocket and dabbed at the stain on Ginger’s blouse. “I’m so sorry. You’re so much stronger than I expected and well, silly Tilly, I lost my balance.”
Ginger said nothing. What could she say in a situation like that? Not much. Instead, she marched to Hitch. “We need to talk.”
“Why are you here, Ginger?” It looked like Hitch was forcing a straight face without much luck.
“That’s a good question. I wish I’d never had the crazy idea to meet up with my college roommates this weekend. And here of all places in this… this village. There isn’t even a gas station here. And, I can’t find my friend’s house.”
Yeah, and that giant tank of hers probably eats more gas than a fleet of Tilly’s Volkswagens, I said to myself.
“You have a friend?” Hitch asked, receiving another glare from Ginger. If she didn’t watch out, her face would be etched with frown wrinkles that even regular Botox treatments wouldn’t be able to erase. “I mean, you have a friend here in Pineville?”
“I do. Violet Burnham. She lives on Cobbler Lane.”
My heart sank. That was my neighbor. Now, I’d have to deal with someone out to get Jasper in trouble plus this New York woman with an oversized attitude.
“How did you know where to find me?” Hitch was as puzzled as I was about that little detail.
“Conrad told me you had some kind of grand opening today.” She looked around again. “Is this it?”
I hoped this wasn’t an indication for how the rest of the day would go.
3
“Yes Ginger, this is our grand opening. But we’re too busy to help you now,” Hitch said. Without another word, he took me by my arm and headed toward our front door where Jasper paced impatiently.
“You’re just going to brush me off like that?”
My back was to Ginger, but from her tone, I’m sure she even stamped her foot in the dirt.
“Yup,” Hitch answered and opened the door to our shop, stepped aside, and held his hand out for me to enter ahead of him. What a gentleman. At least to me.
“I’ll be back,” she said getting in the last word. I heard her car door close with a loud thud and she drove off.
“What the heck was that all about?” Tilly asked when she’d caught up with us. I had to hand it to her, she didn’t have a drop of coffee on her mid-calf skirt or white tunic. What aim, and at her age.
Hitch ran his fingers through his hair, showing a moment of frustration. “I wish I knew. She was Harry’s friend. You remember? The guy I worked for in New York. Apparently, she met Conrad through Harry, too. I didn’t really know her except that she was someone I didn’t want to cross. I’d heard that she holds a grudge and always gets even.”
Great. Just the kind of person we needed in our life. Not!
Fortunately, I didn’t have time to obsess about Ginger Ross. I was busy assessing the look of the shop. The gleaming oak counter where customers would line up to order from our fabulous menu of fruity, frosty shakes and treats, the several counter stools, and round tables and chairs set up to give a view of the lush garden artfully arranged with both familiar and exotic plants and flowers.
Jasper had pushed her way into the greenhouse and let out a loud woof. Her way of asking me to open the inner door so she could check on her kitty friends. As Chief Kitty Nanny, she had an important job to do, and she took it seriously.
I gave her a scratch to thank her for her, ahem, attention to Ms. Ross and said, “Sorry for the delay, Jasper. I’m glad you manage to quickly deal with unnecessary distractions and keep everything in the right perspective.”
I opened the screen door into our greenhouse jungle of vines, towering ponytail palms, and blooming bird of paradise plants carefully placed among Hitch’s orchid collection. I hit the control to open the roof vents and turned on the fans to circulate cooler fresh air throughout the greenhouse. After a quick count of the kitties—four plus Mama Cat—I left Jasper lying in the shade of a rubber tree with kittens pouncing on her tail. Time to return to the Shakes and Cakes Shop, conveniently attached only feet away from the greenhouse.
Tilly was busy filling the glass pastry case with iced cupcakes, giant cookies, and sweet donuts. I did spot one hole in the middle of the glazed donut selection where Tilly had decided to eat her pay. No problem.
The door jingled, and I looked up from tucking chairs under tables, surprised to see Conrad Coleman walk in. He’d done the remodeling for us, so it made sense that he’d show up, but he’d told me that he was busy and wouldn’t have time to stop in until later in the day.
“All set?” he asked, looking around and nodding with satisfaction at our colorful décor of bright blue chair pads, sunshine yellow tablecloths, and burnt orange napkins. I loved how the interior popped with colors that matched our gardens outside. “This looks great,” he said, pointing to the long blackboard on the wall behind the counter listing our special shakes for the day and what we hoped would become our standard favorites.
I looped an apron over my head and tied it in back. Somewhere, Tilly had found just enough hot pink aprons covered with colorful milkshakes for each of us. I hadn’t been sure that Hitch would wear one, but I spotted the hot pink ruffled number tied around his waist as he pulled out ingredients from the fridge for our crazy shakes and breakfast smoothies.
“I think so,” I said to Conrad. I didn’t really have time for this question, but I asked anyway. �
��What can you tell me about a Ginger Ross?”
He rolled his eyes. “Did she show up here already? I told her your grand opening is today. I can’t believe she didn’t wait until you weren’t so busy. But, that’s Ginger. She thinks the sun rises and sets on her impulses. She wants what she wants and has no patience or consideration for anyone else’s schedule.”
“Do you know why she wants to talk to Hitch?”
Conrad, mid-forties, muscular, and hardly a shrinking violet, shuffled his feet awkwardly. “She told me that she thinks someone is stalking her.” He shrugged like he thought this was one of Ginger’s weird ideas. “She wants to hire Hitch as her bodyguard.”
“That’s crazy,” I said. “Hitch won’t agree to that. We’ve got this business to run.”
I peeked to check that Hitch was still busy behind the counter and lowered my voice so he wouldn’t hear us. I wanted to get the whole story first before he got the news.
“I’m sure you’re right but Ginger can be persuasive. She’s prepared to pay him whatever it takes for his services. Anyway, I see you’ve got all kinds of shakes and smoothies on your blackboard. Any chance I could get something before the rush is on?”
I’m sure my eyes lit up. Our first customer. “Sure thing, Conrad,” I said. “What would you like to try or do you want me to surprise you?”
A smile curled the edges of his mouth and he said, “I’m not real fond of surprises, especially when it’s food.” He tapped his lips while he studied our menu. “That maple oat coffee combo sounds like it will give me the caffeine kick I need.”
“Do you want a scoop of vanilla ice cream in it or the healthy version?” I raised my eyebrows teasing him with a delicious option.
He chuckled and said, “I wish you hadn’t given me a choice like that. Ice cream in the morning isn’t usually on my menu, but… hey, what the heck. You only live once, right?”
I laughed. “Great choice. Tell Tilly. She’ll blend it up for you.” I cupped my hand around my mouth and whispered again, “She needs a few practice runs before we open for business.”
He feigned a frown. “So, now I’m your guinea pig? I’m not sure I like the sound of that.” He nudged my arm. “Just kidding. Glad to help.” He walked to the gleaming oak counter, freshly sanded and shiny with a thick coat of finish. “Mornin’ Tilly. Sunny said you’re the chief smoothie maker.”
Tilly rewarded him with one of her dazzling smiles she reserved for special friends. “She did, did she? I think she’s just trying to get out of some hard work. What can I get for you, Conrad?”
While Conrad gave his order, I joined Hitch in the tiny space behind the counter we jokingly called a kitchen. He was slicing strawberries and oranges for fruit smoothies, so I picked up a knife and chopped kale and spinach for green smoothies. We’d decided that the early morning orders would probably be for joggers and folks on their way to work looking for a healthy smoothie and the shakes would be popular later in the day, but we had to be prepared for anything.
“Conrad told me that Ginger wants to hire you,” I told Hitch.
“Hire me? For what?”
“She thinks someone is stalking her.”
He shrugged. “Not interested.” He scooped up the orange slices and put them in a reusable bag, adding it to the other prepared fruit in the fridge.
“She’s willing to pay a lot,” I said. If Hitch was going to be even a little bit tempted, I wanted to know now instead of getting hit with a surprise when our business was up and running and I really depended on him.
His knife flew over the fruit like a master chef showing off for a commercial.
“Still not interested, Sunny.” When I didn’t respond, he crossed his arms and stared down at me with those green orbs he has for eyes.
“Do you think I’ll do anything if the price is right? I’m done with that kind of job.” He raised his arm. The one that took a bullet. “Did you forget the price I paid during my last stint in New York? I got lucky, and my arm is finally one hundred percent healed. And, I don’t need her money.”
“Thanks, Hitch.” I downplayed my tremendous relief. “I told Conrad you wouldn’t take the job, but I needed to hear it from you.”
A siren pierced the air, growing louder and louder like it was heading right toward our Shakes and Cakes Shop.
“What?” I looked at Hitch feeling unsettled.
Together, we rushed to the front window with a view of the road beyond all the flowers, only to see a Pineville Police cruiser turn into our parking lot.
I looked at Hitch. “I don’t like this.”
My earlier relief vanished in a flash.
That hadn’t lasted for long.
4
Officer Mick Walker jumped out of the driver side of the cruiser, not slowing down to wait for Police Chief Bullock to slide from the passenger seat.
Mick barged into our shop, letting the door slam closed behind him. As he quickly scanned our new shop, his ever-present toothpick bobbed furiously at the edge of his mouth. “I need to talk to everyone here.”
The older Police Chief, slightly stooped, limped in behind Mick. He took off his hat and ran his hand over his thinning gray hair. “I’ll handle this, Officer Walker,” he said with authority.
Mick clamped his jaw muscles, biting right through his toothpick, sending it sailing to the floor. It was no secret that he wanted Chief Bullock to retire. What else everyone suspected, except Mick, was that he wouldn’t be the one promoted to Police Chief. He’d pushed the boundaries of his job too many times creating ill-will in Pineville.
I was surprised he even still had a job as an officer on the police force. I, for one, wouldn’t shed a tear if he lost his job. The way he hounded Hitch trying to catch him in an infraction made me see red. He’d made it known he had a crush on me, and he saw Hitch as his competition. His bad jokes and self-important manner could never win me over.
“We have a situation in town,” the Chief said. He eased himself with a painful grimace onto one of the chairs at a round table for two. “A woman visiting Pineville seems to have disappeared. It’s still early, and there could very well be a logical explanation, but the last place she was known to be,” he paused and looked at each of us in turn, “was here.”
“Ginger Ross?” I blurted out accidentally before I covered my mouth with my hand. When I looked at Hitch, he kept a serious poker face, revealing nothing.
“She did stop in, but we weren’t open yet,” Tilly said, handing Conrad his smoothie. “How about a refreshing smoothie for you, Chief? I can whip up a nice healthy green pick-me-up with kale, bananas, and yogurt. It’ll take the edge off that arthritis that looks to be flaring up.”
“Will it really help?” he asked, rubbing his hip. He wasn’t born yesterday, and his skepticism was obvious.
“It can’t hurt.” Tilly dumped ingredients into the blender, not measuring anything and whipped the mess together.
“We can’t run a business like that, Hitch,” I whispered. “She might make someone sick.”
“Or kill them.” Hitch’s lips twitched at the edges with that comment, not that it was funny, but I knew what he meant.
He always tried to lighten the mood, but sometimes his words were just the wrong choice. “Not helpful, Hitch.”
I walked over and sat at the table with the Police Chief. My goal? Answer his questions and get him on his way before we opened for business. “Ginger Ross was here but she left at least a half hour ago.”
“What was she doing here?” he asked accepting the glass of smoothie from Tilly. He smelled it and took a sip through the straw. “Not bad, I suppose,” he said, wrinkling his nose. “If you’re an herbivore. With this color, I’m surprised it doesn’t taste like mold.”
Not exactly the endorsement we needed. This wasn’t going well. I had to get Chief Bullock out of here and steer him away from Hitch in the process. “Ginger said she was staying with Violet Burnham on Cobbler Lane. Have you checked with her?”
“Actually, Sunny.” He slid the smoothie aside and gave me his full attention. “Violet’s the person who called us in a panic. She said this Ginger woman never showed up when she was supposed to. Now, you and I both know how Violet gets a little dramatic at times, so I’m taking her concern with a grain of salt. But, at the same time, it’s always a good rule to ask a few questions to be on the safe side.”
I couldn’t argue with his logic, but I also sensed there was a whole lot more behind his words. And, that made me squirm.
He set his glass on the table. “Not sure I’ll finish that, Tilly. But thanks just the same.” One thing I could say about the Police Chief, he was polite, unlike Officer Walker.
“What was she doing here?” Officer Walker demanded to know as he took a step closer, rudely inserting himself into the conversation. “You forgot to answer that question, Sunny.”
Hitch stood behind me and put his hands on my shoulders, squeezing gently. I saw his game face in his reflection in the window. It helped to reassure me during this moment of uncertainty. “Ginger showed up out of the blue and said she wanted to talk to me.” He shrugged like it wasn’t any big deal. “I told her I didn’t have time because we were busy getting ready for our grand opening. So, she left.”
“That’s right,” Tilly said. “She hopped right back in that big old SUV and screeched out like she was in a rush to go bother someone else.”
The Police Chief pushed himself up from his chair. “The funny thing that I can’t figure out is why did she come here to talk to you in the first place, Hitch?” He tried to soften the question with a concerned look, but it didn’t fool me.
“You’ll have to ask Ginger,” he said, adding a slight shrug to his answer.
“Which gets us right back to where we started. I need to find this Ginger Ross to ask her that question, don’t I? Mind if I have a look around your place?” The Police Chief directed his question toward Hitch like it was a challenge.