Up to No Gouda

by Katherine Hayton

  Up To No Gouda

  A Cheese Shop Cozy Mystery Book One

  Katherine Hayton

  Copyright © 2019 Katherine Hayton

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Also by Katherine Hayton

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Charlie Hewitt felt her centre of gravity shifting in the Hip Dip and tried not to cry out. Bad enough she was about to embarrass herself in the Pilates beginner’s class. She didn’t need to draw everyone’s attention as well.

  Beginner’s class, for goodness’ sake.

  As she tumbled to one side, Charlie got an attack of the giggles and clamped a hand over her mouth. Concentrate, girl. You’re meant to be improving your body and mind!

  By the time she got the inappropriate urge under control, Amanda Hipkiss—the Pilates instructor—had brought the session to an end.

  “I’ll see you all on Wednesday,” Amanda called out as the other class members shuffled from the room, talking and laughing. “Don’t think I didn’t see you, Charlie. Do you need some help with your form?”

  Charlie stood up and stretched. Her abdominal muscles immediately reminded her they’d done the One Hundred for a warm-up and they weren’t in the mood, thank you very much.

  She rubbed the aching area and wrinkled her nose. “It’s not my posture I need help with, it’s my cheese intake.” Charlie massaged her ample thighs and gave her behind a pat. “All this padding is great for sashaying around in front of a Tinder date, but it’s a devil to keep balanced in class.”

  “Please don’t say you’re going on a diet.” Amanda’s face twisted into dismay. “You’re perfect just the way you are.”

  “Not quite, but I wouldn’t worry too much.” Charlie grinned. “My diet plans last from bedtime until when I open up the shop. Grilled cheese sandwiches have always been my nemesis. If there’s such a thing, I’ll openly admit I’m a cheeseaholic!”

  “At least it suits your profession.” Amanda glanced over her shoulder to check the coast was clear and dropped her voice to a whisper. “Can you imagine if one of my ladies-who-lunch tried to run your cheesemongers? They’d be telling customers off left, right, and centre for ordering anything on the menu.”

  The two of them laughed together, the slight guilt from making fun of other members of Amanda’s class adding an extra dash of pleasure. It might be wrong, but after the horrified expressions Charlie had fended off when she first walked into one of Amanda’s classes, it also felt well-deserved.

  “What’s the plan for the rest of your day?” Amanda pulled a towel off a stack near the door and wiped the back of her neck. “Do you have time to grab lunch?”

  “If you don’t mind Bocconcini joining us.” Charlie patted her stomach. “I’m not the only one getting pudgy, so I’ve committed to taking him out for a walk at least twice a day.”

  “You know the only reason I tolerate you is to get close to your pug,” Amanda said, nudging her with an elbow. “If you ever need a walker so you can stay longer with your precious cheese, I’m your girl.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Charlie jumped as a door in the back of the studio slammed. “Who’s that?”

  A lanky man with a mop of dark curls and the chin of a movie star strode across the back of the room, collecting mats as he went. He turned to gaze at the two of them, then dismissed them with a scowl.

  Amanda rubbed her forehead hard with the towel, then stepped outside the studio. After another quick glance at the man, she gestured for Charlie to step closer. “He’s my cousin, Dwayne Westbury. He lives in Australia but turned up on my doorstep a few days ago, out of the blue. Since he’s at a loose end, I gave him a job cleaning up after class and taking out the rubbish every night.”

  “He seems like a real charmer.”

  “You have no idea. I offered him my spare bedroom for a month until he can find a place for himself. He’s such a Debbie Downer, I kind of wish I’d just given him directions to the nearest hotel.”

  Charlie put a hand up to cover her giggles. “Yeah, right. If you’d done that, you’d now be worrying every minute over how he was doing.” Amanda oozed empathy out of every pore, more than anyone Charlie had ever met before. “Perhaps he’ll brighten up with a bit of time.”

  “You were asking about an assistant a while back, weren’t you?” Amanda’s eyes lit up with a glow that had Charlie falling back a step.

  “Uh, no. That ship’s sailed. Noah picked up some extra hours and between the two of us, we’re coping fine.”

  A thump from inside the studio had them both peering through the slit window in the door. Dwayne was still collecting up the mats but, rather than stack them in their place for cleaning, had thrown them instead.

  “I can’t believe he’s related to you,” Charlie said, stifling another laugh as Amanda’s expression turned to one of frustration. “Did all the happy genes stay on this side of the Tasman?”

  Amanda’s lip twitched, but she turned back to the gym. “I need to set up for my next class. See you at twelve?”

  “Sure thing.” Charlie walked the two flights of stairs down to street level. A few months ago, that and a leisurely walk with her pug would have been the extent of her exercise plan.

  It had been the thought of her father’s untimely death that spurred her to sign up for the exercise classes. All the while, Charlie had told herself she’d only take one or two, just to prove it wasn’t her thing.

  Now, she could make it through almost a whole class without quitting or losing her balance.

  A whole beginner’s class, that was. The thought of an advanced class made her stomach muscles tighten in protest.

  “Hey, there,” a couple with American accents drawled, waving. “Would you be able to take our picture in front of this sign?”

  “What sign?” Charlie took the camera from them and checked the options on the tiny screen. She needed to hold it at arm’s length to do so. A check-up at the local Hanmer Springs optometrist was long overdue.

  “This cheesy one. Isn’t it darling?”

  Charlie glanced up in surprise, then broke into a broad smile of pride. “This is my store,” she admitted, waving an arm across the long sign—Cheesy Come, Cheesy Go.

  “No way!” The woman lunged forward, grabbing Charlie’s shoulder with one hand and shaking her hand with the other. “Nice to meet you. I’m Allie Hitchman and this is Ryan. My husband.”

  The glow of affection with which she said those possessive words tightened Charlie’s throat with nostalgia. “Are you recently married?” she asked, more to let the young woman share her joy than to confirm what was already obvious.

  “Just last week.” Allie tucked her hand around her husband’s elbow. “We’re on our honeymoon.”

  “It’s a long way to come. I hope you’re finding your stay enjoyable.” Charlie ducked her head to hide the smile. It was a curious habit that seemed to plague most New Zealanders, not just her. If a tourist appeared, every Kiwi became an instant ambassador for their country.

  “We love it,” Allie decla
red. “We spent so long planning every detail, I was scared we’d get here and find it all a disappointment. But it’s been thrilling.”

  Charlie stepped out onto the street, checking for traffic. The wide roads in the central part of the township meant she wasn’t in any danger. She framed up the shot on the screen, then nodded to the couple. “Say cheese!”

  Allie laughed as though the small joke was an hour of stand-up comedy. With her finger pressed firmly on the button, Charlie caught most of the young woman’s delight.

  “Here you go,” she said, handing the device back to them. “Do you want to check and see they look okay?”

  While Ryan flicked through the array, Allie moved to the window. “How many cheese varieties do you sell here?”

  “A couple hundred.” Charlie moved next to her after a surreptitious check of her watch. Ten minutes to opening time. She could afford to indulge in her passion a few moments longer. “I rotate the cheeses every few days, so nobody misses out on their absolute favourite. If I’ve got it in stock, that is.”

  “Do you make all of these yourself?”

  Charlie shook her head. “Most of them are varieties produced by the local farmers. We’ve got dozens of dairy farmers who turn their hand to cheesemaking in small quantities. I either buy them and ripen them up in my cheese cave, or they rent out space there, and I take a share in the finished product as payment.”

  “What’s a cheese cave?” Allie’s eyes widened in excitement. “Is it buried in the mountains somewhere?”

  Her gaze drifted to the snow-capped hills that surrounded them, shading down their length until they reached the dark evergreen forest at their base. At this time of year, late October, the fluffy white crests were still a permanent fixture, but the bone-chilling frosts of winter were behind them.

  Give it another month, and Hanmer Springs would have brilliant sunshine every weekday and the temperature would launch higher every day. Instead of tourists hogging the hottest three pools in the Hot Springs, they’d gravitate to the coolest ones, taking advantage of the water slides.

  “Cheese cave is just a fancy name for a brick building with a lot of temperature and moisture controls. Since I was constructing one for my own purposes, I made it three times the size I’d ever need.” Charlie’s eyes softened as she thought of her pride and joy. Shelf after shelf of ripening cheeses that she’d lovingly brine, wipe, turn, and wash every day. “Now there’s room for all the local producers.”

  “I love all this artisanal stuff.” Allie hugged herself, then stepped back and squinted as she checked the camera screen. “Ryan here keeps calling me a hipster, but I think it’s important to have respect for the processes our ancestors used.”

  Charlie’s ancestors had been more deeply involved in real estate and banking, but she agreed with the sentiment wholeheartedly. “We used to have a cheese ad on the telly with the slogan ‘Good things take time.’ I think it becomes truer every day.”

  “Oh, yes.” Allie clapped her hands and gave a small squeal. Her enthusiasm was so overboard, Charlie couldn’t help but smile. “Now that everyone’s in such a hurry, going everywhere with their nose buried in their phones, you’re right. I love the quaintness of Hanmer Springs. It’s a perfect example. I think I’ll remember this place better than everywhere else we’ve been.”

  “Are you travelling around the country?” Charlie asked, her voice turning into the duller realms of polite conversation.

  “Just a few stops. We’re here for the rest of the week, then it’s on to Wellington.”

  “Well, I sure hope you enjoy yourselves. If you’ll excuse me, I just need to open the shop now.”

  “Ha!” Allie clapped her hands together again. “I’ll let you go now, but you can bet we’ll be back here for a grilled cheese at lunchtime. It’ll take me until then to narrow down what I want to try.”

  Charlie waved and walked around the rear of the row of shops to unlock the back door. She needed a quick shower, then to set up the grills for the first lot of customers.

  “Did you see they’ve photographed a black hole?”

  Ben Butler appeared at Charlie’s side, startling her. When her heartbeat was on the road back to normal, she smiled. “I might’ve seen it on the news.”

  “Didn’t look amazing but when you think of all the energy it’s sucking into itself by the second.” He raised curled fists to either side of his face, then expanded his fingers out. Mind blown.

  “It should make it easier for science teachers, anyway,” Charlie said. “Once they’ve got a photo of something, it’s a simpler matter to convince children the thing exists.”

  “We’ll turn into one, someday. Our decaying sun will pull us towards it with a thousand times more force than gravity.” He jumped up and down, as though to check they still had it turned on. “Every single one of us will be dead by then, of course.”

  Charlie laughed, wrinkling her nose. “Of course. And who’d still want to be alive while all that was going on, eh?”

  Ben rubbed the side of his nose, glancing behind him. Although she spoke to him most mornings and enjoyed being able to feed him with the leftovers at the end of the day, he wasn’t big on eye contact.

  “I have to go in, or I’ll be late getting the shop open,” she said. “But drop by later, and we can share a new flavour of grilled cheese.”

  His eyes brightened, flicking back towards her face for a second, skirting around the base of her nose, staring at her lips, then jerking away. “That’ll be nice.”

  As he walked away, a teenager from the local high school chased him for a few steps. “Hey, Nutty Butler. Got any new nutty theories.” He mugged at him, his young face twisting into malevolent shapes.

  “Why don’t you get to school? Looks like you need all the learning you can get,” Charlie called out, infuriated. As if it wasn’t bad enough that Ben didn’t have a home or job. She couldn’t believe how callous some people could be.

  The boy flapped a hand at her but broke into a run, catching up with some of his school mates farther along the street. Ben seemed unperturbed by the entire incident, continuing his shambling walk along the main road.

  “Hello, my little Mozzarella ball,” Charlie said as her pug, Bocconcini, trotted up and tried to entangle himself in her legs. “Have you missed me?” She checked her watch. “Considering it’s been all of an hour since I saw you last.”

  Bocconcini jumped up, tongue hanging out as he panted, his curly tail juddering back and forth in his version of a wag, to show her exactly how much he adored her.

  “You’re far too good for my ego,” she said, giving him a pat, then a hug. Since she was about to take a shower and get changed, Charlie could afford to get covered in dog hairs.

  “Get back in your dog run. I’ll see you in five minutes, clean and ready.”

  The run was a little area fenced off from the main part of the shop with a wall high enough to convince Health and Safety that Bocconcini could be an attraction in the store without endangering anybody. If a stray dog hair made its way over the counter, she’d notice and suck it up with a dustbuster kept for just that purpose.

  Mindful that her employee would be along any second, Charlie jumped into the shower, placing a chair against the door on the off-chance Noah wouldn’t be able to work out where she’d gone. Since she didn’t need to wash her hair, it was a matter of minutes before she was cleaned, towelled dry, and dressed. Her Pilates outfit went into her gym bag and straight in a locker.

  “Ben’s hanging around out back again,” Noah said by way of greeting. He threw a bag into the corner, missing the lockers by a foot, then pulled an apron off the stack. “He’ll scare away the customers.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Charlie said as she changed over the sign on the door and unlocked it. On a summer morning, she’d throw the whole door open to let the fresh breeze through but today that would chill them half to death. “Nobody tries to buy anything from out the back.”

  “You know he
won’t stay there,” Noah muttered.

  “It’s a free country. He can hang around outside all he likes. It’s not as though he’s bothering anybody.”

  “They’ll think he’s a beggar.”

  “Since he’s not asking anyone for money, they won’t,” Charlie argued, then sighed. “I’d rather not go through all this again.”

  Their differing opinions on Ben were a constant source of aggravation. Although Charlie knew she could pull out the boss card if Noah really got on her nerves, she preferred to keep it tucked away.

  “Fair enough,” Noah said in a conciliatory tone, then leaned on the counter, his face suffused with anxiety. “Actually, I’ve got a far bigger problem to worry about.”

  Chapter Two

  The effort of telling Charlie there was a problem appeared to wear Noah out. It took her another half hour—in between serving customers—to get the issue out of him. When she did, it was a bit of a let-down.

  “You want to bring your writing group here?” Charlie parroted back to him, unsure if it was the full story. Noah had gone bright red with swatches of colour streaking down the side of his neck and sweat beading along his hairline. Surely, his discomfort couldn’t be because of this simple request?

  “It’s just my mother is on a kimchi diet or fad and my house stinks. Usually, if we can’t meet at my house, we go to the Bean There café but…”

  He trailed off but Charlie nodded. The café had lost a staff member early last year, involved in a terrible plot that ended with someone in hospital, close to death.

  And for lost, read imprisoned.

  Since then, the owners who had always taken a back seat had been forced to get their hands dirty running the place. No matter who they got in, bad luck ejected them within the month. The last time she walked past, a closed sign hung in the window with no indication of when it might reopen.