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Murder & Spice and Everything Nice

Page 3

by Caryn Thomas Mitchell


  “You did no such thing, I’m not the least bit interested in him. I never was.”

  “Okay, now I know you’re lying. I was there, we lived in the same house, in fact we slept in the same bedroom, remember?” she said, giving me a friendly hip check as she slipped past to get her own mug of coffee. “Got anything to eat here? I just came right over after rousting Jen from bed.”

  “Um, I’m not sure, look around. People have been dropping all sorts of stuff here. I’m never sure where it’s from though.”

  Gigi opened the cabinets and took out a random assortment of bakery boxes, most of which had one or two cookies or brownies or cupcakes inside. She wrinkled her nose as she sniffed each one in turn. “Cupcakes. Stale. Ohhh, these smell good, gingerbread or something?” she knocked one against the counter and took a tiny test nibble “hard as rocks though. And they taste weird,” she said spitting cookie crumbs into a nearby napkin. “Bagels. Also stale. I could go for a bagel though,” she said and sadly put it back in the box it had come from.

  I watched, curious.

  “Why don’t you throw them out if you’re not going to eat any of them?”

  “I don’t know? They’re not mine?”

  I laughed, “I don’t think anyone is going to come by to claim them. I’m going to text Emma downtown at the Bagelry and ask her to set aside some bagels and cream cheese for us, then I’ll go get it. Anything special you’d like? Poppyseed, right?”

  “Yeah poppyseed ones, oh, and that vegetab-ly kind of cream cheese, not chives though. Thanks! You are the best sister, forget anything else I’ve ever said about you.”

  “In return, why not toss all that stuff you found?”

  “I’ll get to it,” she said as she slid past me while I poked the text message onto the screen of my phone.

  “I think we’re going to have to delay the opening,” I said, hesitating.

  “I know, I was thinking about that,” she said, biting at her lip. “It can’t be helped though, right? I mean, yeah, let’s give it another week,” she nodded in agreement with herself.

  “I just feel like we need to let the police do their work, maybe we, uh… I mean they, can come up with some answers. We don’t want people to have the idea that they can come in but never leave for fear of being dead before they get to the end of the drive, you know?”

  Gigi smiled at me and hummed a few bars of Hotel California.

  “Very funny. Maybe you should get to work while I go get some bagels? Make yourself useful?”

  “Fine, fine, I’m on it. I’ll be shelving in the ‘Romance’ bedroom upstairs,” she wiggled her butt suggestively as she left the room.

  I grabbed a raincoat and slid into the front seat of the trusty old Volvo station wagon that had been left to us with the house. In NYC I’d had no need for a car so this was the first one I’d owned in years. I stuck the key in and the engine turned over with a groan. I’m gonna have to have that looked at.

  The sky looked gray and wind whipped, and storm clouds swirled above me as I slipped the car into gear and rolled toward the end of the driveway. I saw nothing left of the bright yellow crime scene tape. Snugged along the side of the road was Drake’s truck, a big black quad cab, and there was Drake in the front seat, he appeared to be talking on the phone. I slowed as I drove past, but he kept talking so I aimed my car downtown.

  The shopping district loomed ahead, a not-quite-a-grid series of streets that held the shops and businesses that made up the hub of our community. Devoid of chain retail outlets, it is home to the Bagelry, Neicy’s Cuppa Joe, Greenacres Greenmarket and Natural Foods, and a number of smaller stores typically found in Cape Cod summer towns. Clothing stores that specialized in tee shirts and sweat shirts, artist collectives, and a handful of other places to get touristy things. The far edge of town held a large grocery store and a drug store, and a few outlets you might find in a mall anywhere in America.

  There was a space a few doors down from the Bagelry and as I stepped into the shop I inhaled the glorious smell of freshly made bagels.

  “There you are sweetie, I’ve got your order ready,” Emma bustled out from behind the counter. She tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear and smiled.

  “Thanks, Em, you’re a lifesaver,” I said handing her my credit card.

  “Anything for you,” she glanced at me concerned. “Nasty bit of business that happened up there, right? I’m sorry to hear it, and just when you were about to open.”

  “I know,” I sighed, “I’m pushing back the grand opening, just a week, to let things cool off. I hate to do this but can you shift our orders to a week later?”

  “Yes, yes, of course, no worries, we’ll take care of that. Same order though, right?”

  “Yes, bagels for morning, then those spicy cookies you make, and we agreed on the cupcakes too. Keep it all the same, just shift it a week until we can start. I’m sorry, I hate to do that to you.”

  “No problem,” Emma smiled then turned serious, “do they know what happened?”

  “No, not at all, I’m not even sure if they have a cause of death yet.”

  “Well, it can’t be good for you either, having to postpone it like that.”

  “No, no it’s not great, but Father Amos got the worse end of the deal. I’ll be happy when they clear that all up and know what happened.”

  “Was it…gruesome?” she asked wrinkling her nose.

  Small towns, gotta love them, “No, not particularly, it just looked like he fell down, he wasn’t bloody or gory or anything.”

  “Huh, heart attack maybe? Or stroke?”

  “He was pretty young for that I think, but no one really has any idea right now,” I paused, “I’d better get back, thanks for this,” I said waving the bagel bag at her, “see you soon!”

  As I walked to my car I noticed a note on the windshield, its pink paper encased in a sealed baggie, protecting it from the lines of passing showers. At first I thought it was a parking ticket, but as I got closer I realized it was a piece of paper from one of those long shopping list pads that people stick to their fridge. On it were just a few words in angry black marker, it said ‘Don’t Get Nosy’.

  Nosy, who was being nosy? All I was doing was buying bagels. Is this about Father Amos? I mean it must be, but why? I wasn’t being nosy, or investigating, or well, anything but trying to get past it.

  Who wants me off the trail? More importantly who thinks I’m on the trail? I have spent the morning deliberately not being nosy. Honestly, I can’t win for losing sometimes. The note must lead to something, maybe the killer? Just what I didn’t need today.

  Chapter 5

  With my heart hammering in my chest I unlocked the car and stuck the food on the back seat. Reaching up I grabbed the note in the baggie and turned it over in my hands, I can’t see anything remarkable about it. It’s simple lined paper, with those 3 words across the front.

  Anger and fear did a little tap dance across my chest as I looked around at the crowd for familiar faces. I didn’t see anyone I knew, but I hadn’t been in the shop all that long. Maybe someone else had seen something.

  I stood in place and spun around slowly, looking at all the stores to see if anyone was loitering or appeared to be looking in my direction. The weather was obviously keeping everyone inside. There was one woman sitting on the covered porch of the coffee shop, and as I approached with the pink paper in my hand I waved it at her.

  “Excuse me! Excuse me!”

  “Yes,” she turned toward my voice. She was a little older, with the most beautiful silver hair pulled into a comb at the nape of her neck..

  “I was wondering if you happened to see who put this note on my car?”

  “I’m sorry dear,” she said, “but no, I had to put in eye drops just now. Allergies don’t you know? So I can’t see distance all that well at the moment.”

  As she turned toward me, I could see that it was true, her pretty blue gray eyes were unfocused and teary as she squinted to s
ee my face and I hurried closer so she could see who I was.

  “Oh, okay, sorry to bother you,”

  “That’s alright. A note did you say? Was it nice, like a secret boyfriend?” she smiled.

  I laughed, “No, I don’t think so, doesn’t seem like it anyway. The note seems more like a warning than an offer for a date.”

  “Well, good thing I didn’t see whoever then, I’d have to kick his fanny for you,” she said emphatically as she laughed up at me.

  I walked over and stood next to the porch where she sat with what smelled like hot peach tea. “Nice drink for a stormy day,.”

  “Yes, I’m just out here between cloudbursts, my office is upstairs and I use the porch as my window to the world. I’m Luann, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  I glanced at the wall, and saw a sign I hadn’t noticed before. It was carved wood with a gold edge and it said “Luann Hollis, Massage Therapist.” I had heard she was in town, but this was the first time I had seen her. In my opinion town had been sorely in need of a therapist for quite a while. Not the massage kind either, but we’d take what we could get. Not that people were hugely crazy or anything, just that the New England keep your mouth shut coping strategies were outdated, and not all that healthy as far as I was concerned. Anyway, maybe massage therapy would keep people calm cool and collected. You never know.

  “I’m Ivy Bloom, I’ve heard good things about you.”

  “Why thank you, all lies I assure you,” she smiled, “Oh, yes!” She snapped her fingers “the bookstore lady. I’ve heard about what you’re doing to that mansion out there, it sounds like so much fun, I can’t wait until you open.”

  I dug in my purse for a card and handed it to her, “Give me a call if you want a tour before then, we’ve, uh, had to postpone.”

  “Oh, yes, I imagine so,” her smile dimmed “That was unpleasant, wasn’t it?”

  Her gift for understatement was delightful. “Yes, it was. Especially for Father Amos I think.”

  “Well, you didn’t hear it from me but good riddance to bad trash I say. He was a proper tool.”

  “He kinda was, wasn’t he?”

  “Nothing kinda about it. I don’t take kindly to cults, and he definitely was running one. Those poor girls, I wonder what they’ll do now?”

  “I thought about that too, would they move on, or is someone set to take charge?”

  “It’ll be interesting to see, won’t it?”

  “I guess, so. Well, it was good to meet you, give me a call and you can come see the store.”

  “I will definitely be there, if I don’t call you I’ll still come shop.”

  “Ask for me when you come in, we’ll have tea,” I said as I made a mental note to check and make sure we had peach tea bags, that stuff smelled so good!

  The rain was starting again as, dodging raindrops, I walked back to the car and slid inside, flicking on my wipers and headlights as I waited for the car to warm up. Heading toward me on the street was Drake Jordan’s truck, and he slowed and rolled his window down as he rolled up to my car.

  “Hey, sorry, I didn’t mean to be ignoring you at the end of your driveway there, I was on the phone,” he said as the rain thrummed on the roof of my car.

  “Oh, no problem, I saw that you were busy.”

  “Did you want a coffee or something, we can get out of the rain and talk?”

  “Not right now, I have to get back,” I said holding up the bag of bagels as evidence, “but I do have something I need to ask you about, maybe you can give me a call later? We can have a drink.”

  “Sure, we’ll make a plan,” he smiled at me and my stomach did that funny little dance.

  I pulled the car away from the curb and looked at the note on the passenger seat, and reconsidered whether to tell him about it. On the one hand, he was a cop, and this was his investigation so he could be helpful. Or the note could be helpful to him.

  On the other hand, it seemed more like a practical joke, killers probably didn’t wander around leaving notes on windshields, did they?

  Back at the house I pulled the note out of my pocket and showed Gigi.

  “What doesh that murj, were you beeg nosy?” she eyed me suspiciously.

  “What?”

  She swallowed her bagel slathered in cream cheese and tried again.

  “I said what does that mean, were you being nosy?”

  “No,” I protested. “Not at all. I was getting bagels and dodging raindrops.” I tapped my finger thoughtfully, “there isn’t even anyone I can think of to ask questions to, not in town at least. It happened here not there. Honestly, I was just minding my own business, but…”

  “But what?” She was still giving me the patented Gigi side eye.

  “But if someone is that worried that I’m looking into it, well then maybe I should be?”

  “No, no you shouldn’t. You should let the police do their job and we’ll do our job. And right now my job is to eat this and have some coffee, do you want some?”

  “Yes, sure, what’s one more cup, right?”

  While she ran pods through the machine I got out the cream and sweetener and put them on the table.

  “What do you suppose…” I trailed off.

  “What, you don’t have an idea, do you?”

  “Well, no but someone thinks I might. Don’t you think that’s weird?”

  “You know, it’s probably just a prank. Someone is trying to scare you.”

  “That doesn’t even make any sense. Who would try to scare me except someone who doesn’t want me to look into this?”

  “I don’t know, someone who wants to distract you? Someone who wants you to drop the ball here so the store doesn’t open well?”

  I laughed “Who would that be, the owner of the used book shop in town?”

  She shrugged her shoulders, “I’m sure there’s an explanation.”

  I sipped my coffee and pulled at a piece of bagel and took a bite. I hadn’t even bothered to toast it. Bagelry bagels were chewy and perfect on the inside, I loved them with just a little smoosh of cream cheese. I savored it for a minute as I thought about the murder. It had been on our property. And it was impacting us, and now this, maybe I should take a more active interest?

  “No, I don’t know. It’s silly, right? It’s just a note.”

  Gigi breathed a sigh of relief, “right, that’s all it is, let’s move on, we’ve got things to do and that’s only a distraction.”

  I sighed and put the note back in my coat pocket. I wasn’t going to be that easily swayed, but she didn’t need to know that. At least not right now.

  “Right now I’m enjoying this distraction. How does she make such amazing bagels?”

  “I don’t know, maybe she’s using special water filters or something? You know, like how NY pizza is so good because it has water from NY in the crust?”

  “Is that it? I’m not sure that’s it?” I said fingering the note in my pocket and ignoring my sister. I was still thinking about that note.

  Try to warn me off will you, whoever you are, we’ll see about that!

  Chapter 6

  Somehow polishing windows has always worked for me as cleaning therapy. I don’t really like to clean anything else, particularly. I mean, I do it, but it’s boring. Something about windows though, polishing them until they sparkle, it’s soothing. So I headed to the kitchen in search of window cleaner and some rags. That’s the secret to no streaks, lint free rags and vinegar.

  Carter had done a remarkable job since the little catastrophe with the ladder. Everything that was supposed to be on the walls was, and his thousand other little jobs in there were done too. As I spun around I remembered the stove top and vent-hood situation and stopped in shock as it sparkled back at me. I walked closer, afraid it was some sort of hallucination that would disappear on me as I got near. But no, the range and hood had been cleaned so thoroughly and completely that I could see my image reflected in them.

  I turned as I heard someo
ne enter the kitchen and saw Carter standing there.

  “This is amazing!” I said, indicating the stove.

  “I knew you didn’t want to do it, so,” he shrugged as if it was no big deal.

  “God, yeah, I didn’t want to do it, but I didn’t want to take up your time either, you’re so valuable doing things none of the rest of us can manage.”

  “It wasn’t bad, I just laid down paper towels soaked with my own super secret grease dissolver mix. I let them sit while I did other things, and then when I came back the grease came right up. After a few rounds of that, it just needed some shining up.”

  “What’s in this patented mix?” I asked, admiring the shine. “This stuff looks new, except it’s so dated.”

  “Yeah, there’s that. I’ll tell you what, I’ll make you some of my mix if it ever looks like you need to dissolve 25 years of grease and bugs. Otherwise the secret formula will stay safely locked in here,” he said, tapping the side of his head.

  “Well, add this to your list of super-human gifts, this is fantastic!”

  “It is, isn’t it?” he said, pretend polishing it with the sleeve of his flannel shirt. “Thanks. I think we’re done in here, don’t you?”

  “Yep, it looks good to me, is that it then?”

  “I think so, I’ll make another sweep of the place, but it looks like my punch list is set. Until you come up with something else,” he winked at me. My heart fluttered.

  I heard a skittering of nails on the floor and a loud bark and Norman came flying around the corner.

  “Norman, what are you doing here?” I asked as I swept him into my arms. “I locked him in my place when I left this morning,” I explained to Carter.

  “You did? Are you sure, because he isn’t locked in there anymore.”

  “No kidding. Yes, I’m sure. I’ll have to figure out how he got out,” I said as I headed to the inside staircase to the apartment.

  “Hang on, I’ll come with,” Carter said, grabbing a cookie from the butler’s pantry/snack bar, as he followed behind me. I held Norman close and murmured gently into his fur as we walked.

 

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