Foodie Files Cozy Mysteries Box Set

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Foodie Files Cozy Mysteries Box Set Page 27

by Christine Zane Thomas


  “You're welcome,” Grandmother told him.

  He grinned at me. Then Javier and Bitsie made their way toward the corner of the room.

  “Are you ready to go home?” I asked Grandmother. “Or do you want to find another group to play with?”

  “I'm ready,” she answered. “But you know what? I think I will stay at your Aunt Denise’s again tonight. If you don’t mind popping me back over there. I’ll need to get my overnight bag first.”

  “Not at all,” I said. “If that's what you really want to do.”

  If I were her, it would be what I wanted. But I dared not push the issue.

  She had no trouble on our way to her room. But I remembered how long she’d had Javier’s arm. I had to ask her. “Are you feeling all right? I noticed you had Javi’s arm for a little while.”

  “I was afraid to let go, because he made me feel weak in the knees.” Grandmother had a sparkle in her eye and a smile on her lips. “Don’t you think I don’t see that you like him?”

  “I don't like him,” I said. “I like Luke.”

  Grandmother turned the key to her apartment door. “If you say so.”

  14

  “Morning,” Gertie said. “The usual?”

  “Please and thank you,” I replied.

  Shucks. I was hoping to beat Javier into The Java Hutt and get that coffee I owed him out of the way. But no such luck. He was already sitting down at a table enjoying a sip of brew. His dark eyes found me, and he shot me a mischievous stare. “I thought you were getting my coffee,” he said, holding up the drink.

  “I would’ve if you hadn’t beat me.”

  “Hey!” he objected. “I was here at the usual time.” He checked his watch. “The usual, uh, twenty minutes early time.”

  I waited for Tenley to finish my macchiato, then I tentatively hovered beside the chair across from him. I wasn’t sure if he wanted company.

  “Sit down,” he said to me as if I was acting crazy.

  Maybe I am, I thought. Luke was out of town again. He wouldn’t be back until our special Valentine’s double date. I’d spent quite a bit of time with Grandmother’s words echoing around my head. You like him.

  “Why are you here so early?” I asked.

  “Brutus,” he said grimly. “I guess he thought 5:00 a.m. was as good a time as any to wake me up.”

  I chuckled. There were some things I didn’t miss about owning a dog.

  “I’d be mad if he wasn’t such a good cuddler.”

  And some things I did miss. “You said he’s a bulldog, right?”

  “You remembered,” Javier said.

  “Of course, I did. Why wouldn’t I?”

  Javier shrugged. “Some people wouldn’t. Clara barely remembers his name. She calls him Barky or Bruno. It drives me nuts.”

  “In fairness, I didn’t remember his name.” Who knows why I decided to defend Clara Clearwater. I made a note not to do it again.

  “In fairness, I think you’d remember if you met him. You’re that type of girl.”

  “And what type of girl is that?” I asked skeptically.

  “The sweet kind,” he said.

  I wanted to ask “And Clara’s not?” But I held my tongue.

  It felt good to be complimented. His kindness always seemed to come out of nowhere, catching me by surprise. If he were somebody else, he’d probably treat me as a meddlesome nuisance. But that wasn’t him.

  Javier glanced around the coffee shop. “Do I need to pull up another chair for your friend?”

  I briefly wondered what friend he was talking about. Then I realized. “Oh, no,” I said. “Kate won’t be in until later.”

  I’d asked her to meet me here in about an hour. I had plenty of blog stuff and email to deal with—and now there was Javier.

  I wrapped my hands around my coffee, allowing it to warm me up. It was cool out but not bitterly so. I took a few long sips of my coffee, building up the courage to try and drive the conversation. I wanted to cure my curiosity about the case while still keeping my promise to Luke. I was going to let the police do the work. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t get some of the details.

  “I was wondering,” I said. “Did you have any luck with either of those interviews yesterday?”

  “I wouldn’t call it luck. But I may’ve used some skill and got a few answers I was looking for.”

  “You’re quite the detective.”

  “I do okay,” he said, smiling. “But I’ve still got a few unanswered questions to figure out—and a few new ones to go with them.”

  “I just couldn’t believe the way Cleo left the building,” I said. I couldn’t imagine Javier had made her cry. But I knew how my nerves got the best of me when I was in the police station for the first time. Maybe that’s all it was.

  “It was… something,” he struggled to find the right way to put it. “I probably wouldn’t be telling you anything you hadn’t already heard.” I let that sit in the air a moment. “What were you doing there yesterday? Didn’t we agree you’d steer clear of the case?”

  “I am steering clear of the case!” I protested. “I can’t help that the case isn’t steering away from me. I was just hanging out with my grandmother.”

  “Playing pinochle?”

  “I didn’t know I was going to be playing pinochle. They were trying to teach me how. Listen, my mom and my aunt are worried about her. I was there just to be with her. She didn’t tell me what we were doing until I was already trapped.”

  He laughed through his nose. “I get it. It’s just given our previous run-ins, I can’t be sure. What do you know about Cleo?”

  “I hear she was a little possessive of Melvin—even after they were no longer a pair. And she bullied his next girlfriend. Or girlfriends. Miss Jeanie doesn’t seem to like her.”

  “And that’s exactly what I know,” he said.

  “Does that mean she's a suspect?”

  “She's on the list,” he said. “Don’t tell me she’s not on yours. What happened to that bulletin board in your house?”

  “I haven’t got it down.”

  “Yet,” he added. Javier knew me all too well.

  “Maybe,” I said, biting my lip.

  We both smiled.

  “But seriously, I’m impressed. No crime board. And I think you’ve helped out on this case more than your fair share. Just don’t go running into any little old lady’s apartments by yourself.”

  “I won’t. I promise.”

  I found my hand had traveled to the middle of the table and rested itself assuredly on Javier’s wrist. I yanked it away.

  Okay, Allie, too flirty. The two of us were both dating someone, not each other. I had more respect for myself, Luke, and Javier. I sighed and took a moment to pull myself together. Serious talk. We’re trying to solve Melvin’s murder.

  “Oh, I did learn something,” I said. Thinking of Luke jarred my memory.

  I spent the next few minutes recounting the pertinent information we discussed about the medication Melvin was using, Somnolance. Then I remembered what Miss Jeanie had told me about their friend Earl’s medication SNAFU.

  “Yeah,” he said. “That’s beginning to look a lot like the precursor to the crime. I agree. If only we knew how they got in and changed it—or how they knew what he was taking…”

  He trailed off, realizing he was revealing too much. Javier checked the time on his watch. “All right. It really is time. I’d better get going. I’ve got a busy day ahead of me. And remember what I said, you can hang out with your grandmother but no one else. In fact, I’d be more comfortable if you didn’t go over to your neighbor’s house either.”

  That definitely meant Miss Jeanie was a suspect. But why?

  “Why would you say that?” I blurted out. “Miss Jeanie is the only reason you know it’s a murder in the first place.”

  He nodded. “You’d be surprised. She may’ve felt guilty. Or maybe she just wanted us to investigate, to prove she could get away with
it.”

  “Or maybe she didn’t have anything to do with it at all,” I said.

  “Or maybe that.”

  “Are little old ladies the only people you’re looking at?” I asked him.

  “I’m not telling you my suspect list,” he said. “But the answer’s no.”

  I thought about who else that could be. Vic, the concierge? Maybe. He had the means, but what about the motive? The list was ever growing, not getting smaller.

  “Okay,” I said.

  “Oh, and by the way,” Javier said, pushing in his chair. “Your article last week in the Gazette was perfect. I booked a table at Sadie’s Porch for Saturday night. I'm sure Clara’s going to love it.”

  Clara. His girlfriend. Another reminder. It was almost like he was reminding himself. Still, the thought of him taking his girlfriend out for Valentine’s Day stung deep down.

  Oh, crap.

  “Did you say you’re going to Sadie’s?” I asked. “For Valentine’s?”

  “Yeah. It was number one on your list. And to think, I was going to take her to Piggies,” he said with a wink.

  “Cool,” I said.

  That was where Luke and I were going to be. Hopefully our dates wouldn’t intersect. Luke tended to get twitchy when I mentioned the name Javier.

  The bell rang as Javier left, but he held the door open.

  “Good morning,” he said, allowing Kate to pass him by.

  She got her drink and shuffled over to the table looking flustered. “I hope you were able to get some details from him,” she said. “Here lately, he’s been like a steel trap. That B, Clara, is scooping the tar out of me.”

  Clara Clearwater. I wish I could stop hearing her name.

  TO: Allie

  FROM: Luke James

  SUBJECT: Saturday Night

  Allie,

  I’m weirdly excited about this weekend. Okay, you know me. I’m not excited about the food. But I can’t wait to see you. I love seeing you in your element. That’s when your confidence shines through. You turn from the shy, reserved girl to something else entirely.

  It’s not cute. It’s sexy. I mean it is cute. You are cute. Always. It’s just that side of you—well, I’d like to see her come out more often. And it’s not only in the kitchen or when you’re at a restaurant. It happens other times too.

  I think I lost my train of thought.

  I guess what I’m trying to say is thanks for being my Valentine. I’ll see you soon.

  Love,

  Luke

  15

  I heard the key slide seamlessly into the lock. There’s a first time for everything. But then I heard uncommon sounds on the porch outside. The sound of scrapping, tapping, and the jingle of a collar.

  She brought the dogs?

  Mom twisted the doorknob open. Both girls, Bella and Nicky bounded toward me. Nicky barked at me like she owned the place.

  Mom slid her shoes off at the door and put down the leashes. She held a yellow grocery bag up for me to see. “I come bearing gifts.”

  I bent down, giving the pups the greetings they were looking for—a few kisses and a prolonged belly rub each.

  “Good morning,” I said before my mom got frustrated. I was never sure if she was actually offended that her dogs got loads of attention or if she was secretly glad that I welcomed them with open arms. Not only were they sweethearts, but they were well-trained and well-behaved.

  “Is it what I think it is?” I asked. “It’s 10:00 a.m.”

  “On a Saturday,” Mom countered. “And it’s a tradition.” She shrugged and headed toward the freezer with the ice cream. It was true. We were having our annual Valentine’s Day movie date—just a little earlier than usual. I couldn't ditch her on Valentine’s Day. But I also couldn't say no to a date with Luke. Not on our very first Valentine’s Day. Now, could I?

  “You're right,” I conceded. “And I’ve already had breakfast, so it’s not like I’d be messing up my appetite.”

  “What about tonight?” she asked.

  “There’s a lot of time before we go to Sadie’s. I don’t exactly plan on stuffing my face.”

  “That’s half the fun in going there.” She smiled.

  “What are your plans for later?” I asked her.

  “I'm picking Mother up later,” she said. “Us single gals have to stick together. We’ll pick up some pasta on our way home and watch a movie. Denise and Billy have a date.”

  “How are things going at Aunt Denise’s?” Grandmother still hadn’t spent a night back at Mossy Oaks. Our pinochle date was as close as she’d come to returning.

  “Not good,” Mom admitted. “Mother is adamant that tonight’s the last night she stays with anyone. She wants to go back first thing tomorrow morning.”

  “Why do you say that’s not good?”

  “There’s still a killer on the loose. Denise and I have discussed it. I have space…”

  She’d mentioned giving Grandmother my room before, but it still didn’t sit right. And I knew Grandmother. She’d never allow it.

  “She’ll be safe after the investigation wraps up,” I said. “And it will. Soon, I’m sure. She really seems to be happy there. That has to count for something.”

  Mom looked at me as if I had something in my teeth. Then she disregarded my words altogether. “I’m thinking I might bring it up tonight, just broach the subject, and see where Mother stands. You never know. After all this, she might welcome a permanent room at my house.”

  “Can you wait until at least tomorrow?” I pleaded in my grandmother’s defense. “I think she still gets sad on holidays. It's just not the same without Granddaddy.”

  Mom huffed. “Fine. If it makes you feel better, I’ll wait. But it will come up at Sunday dinner.”

  I wondered if I could go ahead and call in sick for our weekend family meal. I couldn't stand confrontation. And Grandmother couldn’t, either, especially if she was being ganged up on by Mom and Aunt Denise. She’d probably cower and relent. I knew where I stood on the issue. And it looked like I was the minority. I had to hope that Uncle Billy disagreed with his wife—and was willing to stand up to her. But that was a tall order around the day of love.

  “Noted,” I said to her. “But that’s enough serious talk for one morning. I'll pick a movie if you go pick some polish. My nails are looking rough.”

  Mom went off to the bathroom to find my mani-pedi supplies. I picked up the remote and found my first love, Mister Netflix, waiting there for me. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was sad. We hadn’t been spending much time together recently.

  I scrolled through movies. We weren’t looking for anything too serious. No tear jerkers. Something light, funny, and a whole lot romantic. I’d narrowed it down to two by the time Mom appeared with two bottles in hand. We were too much alike.

  These were my favorite sort of days. Ones where I could take my mind away from the hustle of working on the blog and just relax. Mom and I hanging out, pampering ourselves, and enjoying each other's company. If someone had told me when I was in high school that my mom would be one of my best friends in the entire world, I’d never have believed them. In fact, I might’ve told them something not nice. But here we were.

  “Red or pink?” she asked me.

  “Kate or J-Lo?” I asked her.

  “I asked first,” she said.

  “Red.” I thought about Luke’s email. Red is sexy. Pink is cute.

  “Good,” Mom said. “And Kate. Always Kate.”

  The credits rolled about two hours and one pint of ice cream later. Since it was still early, only lunchtime, Mom decided the backup movie was a go.

  But neither of our hearts were in it. I cuddled on the couch with the pups while Mom found something to make us for lunch. We were only half paying attention to the movie.

  “So,” Mom said, her head halfway into the fridge, “what are you wearing tonight?”

  I should’ve kn
own that escaping the date talk wasn’t going to happen. Mom hadn’t outright said it, but I didn’t think she’d truly come over to Luke’s side. She was always asking questions—but maybe that’s just how she’d be with any guy.

  “I think I’m going with dark jeans and a blouse I bought online.”

  She turned her head back to me, the fridge still open. “Jeans? For Valentine's Day? Who raised you? Cause I know it wasn’t me.”

  “It was,” I said. I didn’t need to remind her that almost every other Valentine’s Day had been spent just like this morning with the two of us in pajamas on the couch.

  “What's wrong with jeans?” I asked. “It’s not like Sadie’s has a dress code.”

  “February fourteenth has a dress code,” Mom said. “And the dress code is a nice dress, heels, and your hair down. I know you have some of those things hiding somewhere in that closet of yours.”

  “Maybe…”

  “I bought them for you. They better be there!”

  “But I can’t walk in heels,” I complained.

  “It's not like you're going to spend the night standing,” she said suggestively.

  “Mom!” I protested. “We’re not there yet.”

  But she did have one small point I had to concede. When Luke and I first met, I was in a dress. It was a silly cocktail dress I’d worn as a costume for a murder mystery dinner party. Since then he hadn't seen me look anything like I had that first night.

  Maybe I should go with this idea.

  “If I were to wear a dress—and I’m not saying I am—which one do you think I should wear?”

  “That polka-dot dress,” she said flatly. “The one I got you at Christmas.”

  “The flirty one?”

  “Allie Treadwell! How can a dress be flirty? It’s perfect for tonight.”

  It was like my mom and Kate were in cahoots. They probably were. Kate had bought me a pair of peep toe heels that would go perfectly with the dress. And my now red toenails wouldn’t go unnoticed either.

 

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