“I like that,” Sophie said. “I’m sure people will enjoy reading about the aprons and their histories.”
Ian popped his empty beer can back into the cooler. “Ready to head out? I’d love to catch the first set down at the park.”
“We are,” I said. “Would you and Lukas please fold the tablecloth? Then we can go.” Normally Ian was great about helping clean up so I wasn’t busting him too heavily. Plus they’d been having a serious conversation and I hadn’t wanted to interrupt.
We were stowing the coolers and other items in the back of Sophie’s SUV when Lukas said, “Do you mind swinging by the lab for a minute? I need to pick up something.”
“I don’t mind,” Sophie said, shutting the hatchback. “It’s on the way downtown.”
Ian looked at me. “Do you want to ride with me?” His truck was still parked at the jobsite. He’d loaded his tools already so we wouldn’t have to wait.
“I’d love to,” I said, opening the SUV’s back door. I’d take any excuse to spend time with Ian, even if it was only the ride back to town.
In the end, we followed Sophie, even stopping at the old mill building where the lab was housed so we wouldn’t get separated. As we pulled into the wide drive, I saw Patrick at the wheel of a late-model pickup truck, leaving the facility. He waved at both vehicles in turn before wheeling out onto the road after a brief stop. He must have traded in his old truck.
Sophie parked near the front door and we pulled into the next spot. I unrolled my window. “We’re going to wait here,” I told Sophie as she got out of the Forester.
“That’s fine,” she said. “It should only take a minute.” She waited for Lukas to skirt the front of the SUV to join her.
The building’s front door flew open and Jamaica ran outside. Frowning, she glanced around the parking lot, her hands resting on her hips. Was she looking for Patrick? Even from here, I could sense her distress.
“I wonder what’s up.” Changing my mind about getting out, I pulled on the latch. “I’m going to go find out.”
“Me too,” Ian said, opening his own door. As we hurried toward the entrance, Jamaica put her hands over her face and burst into tears. Now I definitely knew something was wrong. “Are you okay?” I asked, knowing it was a stupid question.
“No,” she said, rubbing at her eyes. “I’m not. My ex is a jerk and even worse, my seaweed crop is ruined.”
“What?” I wasn’t expecting to hear that. Ian gave me a look of consternation, and Lukas and Sophie, who had now reached us, appeared equally stunned.
“Show me,” Lukas said, his hand on her elbow. “Maybe we can save the plants.”
We followed as Lukas escorted Jamaica into the building. Inside, Jamaica and Lukas began trotting down the hall to Jamaica’s lab, the rest of us on their heels. When we arrived at the lab, the two of them were standing at the grow tank. Even a novice like me immediately saw the problem. The tubes where the brown seaweed had sprouted were now covered in green slime.
“It’s contaminated,” Jamaica said. She glanced around wildly, checking gauges and equipment. “But I can’t imagine how. The temps are right and the filters are still working.” She groaned deeply, her hand going to her forehead. “And it couldn’t have happened at a worse time. I have a big customer coming tomorrow. They want to buy my whole crop, an advance order for everything I’m growing this year.”
My heart sank. And now her crop was ruined. “Can you start over?” I asked, hoping the season could be saved. The seedling seaweed went into the water in the fall, so maybe there was time.
Jamaica’s eyes met mine, a bleak expression in their depths. “Maybe. But once the customer sees this mess, they won’t want anything I grow.” Biting her lip, she shook her head. “The timing couldn’t be worse.”
An inkling of suspicion trickled into my mind. Had the tanks been sabotaged? I had a hard time believing she’d made a mistake, not after hearing about the exacting processes she followed during our tour. “Do you think someone did this?” I asked.
“What?” Jamaica reared back in shock. “You mean contaminate my tanks on purpose? Who would do such a thing?” A heavy silence fell as the obvious answer chimed in my mind. Patrick. Shaking her head, Jamaica put up both hands. “No. No, he wouldn’t do that. Surely he wouldn’t stoop that low—”
“Jamaica.” Lukas’s voice boomed out over her torrent of words. “We can figure that out later. We need to move fast.”
She whirled to face him, her expression taut with anger and anguish. “You’re right. Tell me what to do.”
Lukas pointed at the tank. “We need to change the water and add an additional UV sterilizer unit. We’ll know overnight if it’s going to work.”
“Good idea. Better yet, we’ll put the tubes into a new tank and start over,” Jamaica said. “I have an extra, all sterile and ready to go.” The volatile emotions on her face cleared, replaced with determination.
Sophie stepped forward. “I take it you’re staying here, Lukas,” she said.
His brow furrowed. “If you don’t mind. I want to try to save the crop.”
My friend put up her hand. “Say no more. That totally makes sense. We’ll hang out another night.” She gave him a brief embrace, then hugged Jamaica too. “Good luck.”
Jamaica laughed. “I’ll need it.” She smiled at each of us in turn. “Thanks for your support. I’ll see you later.” She and Lukas were already deep in discussion by the time we reached the lab doorway.
The three of us were silent as we trudged down the hallway, our shoes squeaking on the polished tiles. “Wow, what a bummer,” Ian said as he held the front door open for us. “It would be devastating to lose a whole crop.”
“I can’t imagine,” Sophie said. Then she added, “Well, yes I can. Last winter, during that huge ice storm, we lost everything in the walk-in because the power went out for two days.” She grimaced. “Now I have a back-up generator.”
“And Jamaica needs a security system,” I said. “Despite her protests, I think someone sabotaged her.”
Ian’s gaze narrowed as he thought about that. “The timing is weird. The day before she meets with a big customer? I find that strangely coincidental.”
“As do I,” I said, glad he hadn’t dismissed my theory completely. “And I think Jamaica sees it too.”
Sophie moved slowly toward her car. “Who was she talking about when she said, ‘He wouldn’t stoop that low.’”
“I hate to say it, but Patrick, who is her ex-business partner. They have a pretty acrimonious relationship.” I gave them the gist of what I’d overheard in the hallway after the lab tour.
“It all fits, sad to say.” Ian studied the building. “I didn’t see a security system in the lab. I’m definitely going to suggest she put one in.” He put his hand on the door handle and tugged. “Right now. Be right back.” He disappeared inside the building.
“He’s such a good guy,” Sophie said, her tone wistful. “You two seem really happy together.”
“We are,” I admitted. “But taking it slow … no more leaping before I look for this girl.” Even as I said this, my innards squeezed at the lie. I was falling in love with Ian, but right now even he didn’t know that, unless he could read minds. I hadn’t seen any signs that he’d guessed my secret, which meant what? That he didn’t feel the same way? Grrr. I thought I’d moved past the “Does he, doesn’t he?” of high school.
Sophie smoothed a lock of long hair. “You guys were right.”
“Wait, what?” I thought I’d heard what she said but my mind was still full of Ian. I finally caught up. “Right about what?”
“I love Jake,” she whispered. “Ever since we broke up, it’s like I’m missing a limb or something.” She laughed but her eyes shone with regret. “You never know what you’ve got until it’s gone.”
I put a hand on her arm. “I don’t think it’s gone, Sophie. Honestly.”
Ian emerged from the building. “We’re going to talk tom
orrow about which system to get,” he told us.
“You’re helping her put one in?” I asked. He was so good that way, always offering his expertise and assistance to friends. “That’s so nice of you.”
He shrugged at my praise. “I installed one for my parents, so I’m up-to-date on what’s out there. You don’t need to spend a lot of money nowadays. A couple of cameras and alarms on doors and windows are pretty inexpensive. You can even monitor the system on your phone.” He reached for the driver door. “Ready to head out?”
“You know what?” Sophie said. “I’m going to go home.” She tipped her head toward the building. “Lukas is busy and, well, I don’t feel like dancing anymore. Or seeing people.” She gave me a wan smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow for dinner.” Grammie and I were hosting a girls’ night.
“Don’t brood,” I said as I climbed into the truck’s passenger seat. “That’s an order. And call him.” She pretended not to hear me as she got into her car. But I hoped she’d take my advice.
Ian inserted the keys then paused. “You know what, Iris? I’d just as soon not go to the fest. We haven’t had much time alone over the past couple of weeks.”
My heart began to thud. “No, we haven’t,” I managed to say. Focus on the moment, Iris. My relationship was important too, and besides, there was nothing further I could do tonight to solve my nagging questions and concerns.
He turned in his seat and leaned closer, brushed a lock of hair out of my face. He gave me a crooked smile. “Want to hang out at my place? I’ve got a bottle of your favorite wine chilling. We can listen to the band from my balcony.”
“Why, Ian,” I said, batting my lashes. “It sounds like you’ve been planning this all along.” My pulse thumped in my ears. I was dying for him to kiss me.
Ian shifted even closer. His mouth almost touched mine, teasing me. “Not planning,” he whispered. “Hoping.” And then his lips met mine.
CHAPTER 20
For our girls’ night dinner, Grammie and I decided to put together a salad smorgasbord, served out on the back porch. The evening was warm, sultry even, with thunderstorms in the forecast. Hopefully they’d hold off for a couple of hours. Along with the regulars—Madison, Bella, and Sophie—I’d invited Jamaica. After her ordeal the previous night, I sensed she could use time with friends. I must have been right, because she said yes immediately and offered to bring something to share.
We set up a folding table along the wall to hold platters of fresh, local veggies, including lettuce and cucumbers from Grammie’s garden. Protein included chicken, shrimp, eggs, cheeses, and ham. We also added a tray of toppings that included nuts, seeds, olives, pickled vegetables, and dried fruit, with an array of dressings.
“This looks great,” I said, popping an olive into my mouth, which flooded with salty goodness. “I love big salads full of goodies.”
Grammie placed a fork next to a bowl of artichoke hearts. “Me too. It’s an easy way to get your five-a-day,” referring to the advice to eat five helpings of vegetables and fruit each day.
Quincy tried to jump onto the table, lured by the dish of cottage cheese, which he loved. I grabbed him mid-leap. “What’s gotten into you?” I scolded him gently. “You know better.” I put him down and showed him the dish I’d made for him. It included a tiny spoonful of the creamy curds along with his regular food. I took a grilled shrimp and bit off half, then gave him the rest of that too.
“You spoil that cat,” Grammie said with a fond smile. “And so do I.”
Cars crunched up the drive. The ladies had arrived. Sophie and Bella rode together, and Jamaica was with Madison. As usual, everyone had brought a contribution, and while I welcomed bread and wine and dessert, I saw to my dismay that Jamaica was carrying a bowl of brown seaweed.
She noticed me studying the dish and grinned as she placed it on the laden table near the other toppings. “This is kelp salad. You slice it really thin and add vinegar, sugar, peppercorns, and coriander and mustard seeds.”
Madison shot me a glance. “Sounds tasty. I can’t wait to try it.”
“Thanks, Jamaica,” Grammie said. “You didn’t have to bring anything, but we appreciate the addition.” She pulled the clear wrap off the bowl and put a spoon into the seaweed.
Bella opened a bottle of wine while Sophie sliced the crusty bread she’d brought. Madison and I helped Grammie set out stacks of plates and utensils, and Jamaica filled a pitcher with ice water and slices of lemon. Then we lined up to fill our plates, commenting on all the choices. I even took a tiny bit of the seaweed, to be polite. Everyone took a seat around the table, except Sophie, who remained standing.
“Up, up,” she said, holding her wine glass. “We’re going to do a Belgian toast.” We obeyed, and once we were standing, she said, “Santé!”
“Santé!” we echoed, lifting our glasses. Then we all laughed and sat down.
“That toast brings back memories,” Sophie said. At Jamaica’s questioning look, she added, “I went to college in Belgium.”
Jamaica’s mouth dropped open slightly and she nodded. “Now I get it. Did you know Lukas when you were there?” Eyes still on Sophie, she took a big bite of salad.
“We dated for a while,” Sophie said briefly. “I was very surprised when he showed up in Blueberry Cove. We haven’t been in touch for years.”
“He’s a good guy,” Jamaica said. “I’ve learned tons from him already.” She broke into a huge smile. “Plus he’s really, really hot.” The rest of us echoed that sentiment with gusto, even Grammie, who thought he could star in a James Bond movie.
“Sophie’s heart is engaged elsewhere,” Bella said. “So he’s all yours, Jamaica, if you want him.”
Jamaica sat back, a hand to her chest and a stunned expression on her face. “Oh my. Am I that obvious? Maybe I do have a teeny-tiny crush, but no.” Cheeks flushed, she shook her head. “I’m not going to trespass on another woman’s patch.”
“It’s not my patch.” Sophie set her wine glass down. “For a few minutes I thought maybe, I admit, especially after … anyway, we’re just friends.” She picked up her fork and stabbed at her salad. “How did it go with the customer today?”
“Good, really good,” Jamaica said, giving a big sigh. “I took them out to the site and they were very impressed. I don’t think they were able to picture what twenty acres of water looks like until they saw it.”
“Twenty acres?” Grammie buttered a thick slice of bread. “That’s a good-size area. How much seaweed will you get from that?”
Jamaica had a ready answer. “About ten tons an acre, so two hundred tons.” She grimaced. “If no more disasters happen. The filtration looks like it’s working, so fingers crossed, the crop will be okay.”
Bella and Madison hadn’t heard what happened so we told them how someone had contaminated the sprouting seaweed crop and almost ruined it.
“Who would do such a thing?” Bella asked in indignation. “So mean.”
My eyes met Jamaica’s. I was going to let her take the lead on this one. She sighed. “I think it might have been Patrick. He’s so angry with me.” With an unseeing gaze, she shuddered at what must be a horrible memory.
Madison glanced at her with concern. “Don’t talk about it if it’s upsetting. We understand.”
“No, it’s okay,” Jamaica said, eyes still distant as she played with one of her long braids. “I really cared about Patrick. But he’s not the person I thought he was. As soon as he’s opposed in any way, the knives come out.” At our looks of alarm, she added, “Figuratively speaking.”
“It sounds to me like you made a wise decision,” Grammie said. “Selfish men make very poor partners.”
“Yeah, they do,” Jamaica agreed. “And we were business partners too. You know those Seaseme Power Bars? That was my idea.” Her mouth twisted. “But I told him to take the recipe rather than fight with him for it. He’d already called an attorney.”
“That’s not fair,” Madison said in prote
st. “And no wonder they’re good. You invented them, not Patrick.” She folded her arms with a snort. “I’m never eating another single one.” Her eyes lit. “And I’m giving them bad reviews on social media.”
Jamaica gave her a wan smile. “Please don’t do that, Madison. I appreciate your support but I don’t want to make the situation worse.”
“You’re probably right,” Madison said, settling back with a grumble. “But I’m boycotting them.”
I didn’t have to boycott the bars because a single bite had never passed my lips. “Are you going to make another product, Jamaica?” Judging by how tasty the seaweed salad was—I’d eaten all mine, to my surprise—she was a great cook.
“I might,” she said. “But right now it’s easier for me to sell the whole crop raw. Or dried, in bulk. Patrick had to set up a commercial kitchen to make the bars.” She rubbed her thumb and two fingers together. “Big bucks for the equipment. And the packaging, marketing and so forth.”
“Did Ian call you?” I asked. We’d exchanged some texts today but they were personal in nature rather than work updates. “He said he was going to help you with a security system.”
“He sure did. He gave me parts of an old system his parents replaced so it’s already installed and operational.” Jamaica held up her phone. “I can look at the lab from anywhere.” She brought up the site then passed the phone around. In the video, which had no sound, the tanks were silently bubbling away. All was well down at the lab.
“A baby seaweed monitor,” Grammie quipped as she studied the screen. “How innovative.”
When Jamaica got her phone back, she studied the screen with a fond expression. “You’re right, Anne. They are my babies.”
“Speaking of babies,” I said, “how was your date last night, Madison?” She gave me a light punch to the bicep and I ducked away, laughing.
“It was fine,” she said primly. Then she cracked. “Actually, we had a great time. Anton is an awesome slow dancer, did you know that?” She swayed in her seat, humming, a dreamy expression on her face.
Thread and Dead--The Apron Shop Series Page 17