“Kylie?” Melanie’s voice called from nearby behind me.
“Yes?” I said, putting a final swirl on the board before giving her my attention.
“You have a visitor.” Melanie pointed over her shoulder, and that’s when I spotted her. Winnie. She was one of the homeless people who had stayed the night in the café.
“The cookies!” I hissed, exhilaration flooding me. All the sudden, the café’s future didn’t feel so bleak and fragile. It felt robust and certain. With Winnie’s cookies baking in my kitchen, I’d have more business than I knew what to do with.
Winnie looked tired and a little ragged, but she was here. I could work with that. Things had a chance of getting better for both of us.
Leaving the finished menu behind, I went to the wall-side table where Winnie sat. Even though it was at night, the blind was pulled on the window next to her, blocking the view out to the street.
“Hi,” I said. “Do you mind if I sit?”
Winnie’s face brightened when she looked up and saw me, but her eyes retained a haunted look. Then when her gaze darted around us, I realized that I’d read her wrong. She was hunted, not haunted. She was still wearing her coat, and she had a bag gripped tightly in her lap. She was ready to run at an instant’s notice.
Winnie nodded for me to sit, and I pulled out the chair across from her.
“What’s wrong, Winnie?” It was hard for me not to ask about the cookies before anything else, but there were things more important in life than those cookies or even my café. She had look life-worn when I’d first met her, but now she looked downright haggard. The creases on her face seemed somehow deeper and harsher, as if they’d been carved there rather than developed over time.
“I, uh, need your help. I need some money.”
Oh no… I could feed her. I could even give her shelter. And, I’d love to be able to give her a job. But money… I was in short supply of that myself. “Winnie, it’s just that—“
“Jackson is trying to kill me,” Winnie blurted before I could give her the bad news. “I was supposed to sell some pills for him, but Derek stole them. I don’t take ‘em. None of ‘em. Not me. I’m clean. But Derek gets real sick if he don’t take somethin’, and he found the bag I had for Jackson and he took it. I know he did. He was sufferin’ and then he started being fine. He’s got them, but I don’t want to tell Jackson. He’ll kill Derek, and he’ll say I owe him for what Derek used up. And if I don’t tell him what Derek done, then he’ll say I stole them all and he’ll kill me. But if I leave town…”
My mind was whirling from Winnie’s tale, but I was finally able to grasp and hold onto that last bit. She needed money to get out of town. Her life and Derek’s life depended on it.
“So if I give you money, you’ll use it for…?” I asked, letting my voice trail off.
“A bus ticket.”
“A bus ticket,” I repeated. But I imagined giving her money and that money being used to put something up her arm or nose instead. I studied her eyes. Her pupils didn’t look like pinpricks, they didn’t look like saucers, and they didn’t have a shiny, wet ice look. What I did see was desperation and hope. Winnie needed this, and she was scared. “Give me a second,” I said.
First thing I did was go into the kitchen. I wanted to help Winnie, and something she would need was something to eat. It needed to be something simple and something that would travel well. “Peanut butter and jelly,” I said. I got out all the stuff and made her three peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
I then went to the cash register and took a look at its contents. It had been an okay day. There was enough there to get her a bus ticket and for her to have a little bit extra in her pocket whenever she got to wherever she was going. Taking the money would mean that the café would be operating heavily in the red today. It meant that I might even struggle to be able to buy more supplies to keep the café operational later, but I could manage. I could feature potato soup and a couple of other low-cost dishes to make up the difference. I could learn how to make rice and figure out how to work with beans. I had options. Winnie was running out of those.
I emptied the till drawer into a bag. All of it. Even the coins. Then I headed back over to Winnie and sat down. I pushed the bag of food over. “These are peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.” I pushed over the other bag. “And this is all the money that I have to give.”
Winnie peeked inside the money bag, then her eyes squeezed hard shut and a tear fell as she lifted her face as if in a silent prayer. When she opened her eyes and looked at me again, she was wearing her first smile of the night. “This is enough to get me to my sister’s,” she said. “I can maybe start over.”
I squeezed her hand. “Do you need help getting to the bus station?” I knew that Zoey would be willing to take her.
Winnie leaned so that she could see past the blinds and out into the night. “I think I do.”
I patted her hand. “You sit tight, and I’ll give somebody a yell to take you.”
I left Winnie where she sat and headed back to the kitchen. I took out my phone with the intention of texting Zoey, but then hesitated. There was Brad’s name. He could take Winnie to the bus station, and no one would try to jump them because he was a uniformed cop. But him being in uniform might draw attention to them, too. Also, would Brad be required to arrest Winnie? She wasn’t exactly in this situation because she’d been following the straight and narrow.
Biting my lip, I decided to risk it. I called Brad.
“Calderos,” Brad said by way of answering his phone.
“I need your help with something,” I said. I knew that he’d know it was me from the caller ID.
“You at the café?”
“Yeah.”
“Do I need backup?”
I hesitated. “I don’t think so.”
Brad growled, then hung up. He showed up six minutes later. I already had a bunch of potatoes cut for the steak fries, and I had the oven heating. I was running around the kitchen like a dervish, trying to get the ball rolling on dinner. I’d already had one order come in, and my stomach was in knots knowing that it would be close to forty-five minutes before I’d be able to send their meal out to them.
“I’m here. What do you need?” Brad asked, one hand at rest on top of his holstered gun. “You need to put some salt and oil on those potato wedges or they’re going to oxidize. They’re gonna turn brown on you.”
“Oh! Right, thanks!” I set to work doing as he’d said. “Winnie’s outside in the café. She’s, um, in a spot of trouble. There’s somebody who wants to hurt her, and she needs to get out of town. She needs go to the bus station. I know I could ask Zoey to take her—”
“No. I’ll take her.”
I stopped what I was doing and looked at him. “You won’t arrest her?”
“I haven’t heard anything that she needs arresting for yet. You got something to tell me that she needs arresting for?”
I held my breath.
“Okay then,” he said. “Since I’m not hearing anything, I guess there’s nothing to do but to escort her safely out of town.” A slow smile curved his lips. “I reckon Jackson will be mighty ticked off to lose one of his runners, but you can’t please everybody.”
I blew out my breath in relief and smiled back. “Thanks, Brad.”
I left food preparation behind and headed out to the café in front of Brad so that Winnie wouldn’t get spooked. “Winnie, I’ve found someone to take you to the bus station. Nobody will mess with you with this person there, okay?”
I guess I wasn’t selling it well and that my nerves were showing through, because Winnie didn’t look completely convinced. She looked past me, saw Brad, and then reset her gaze on me with the most awful look of betrayal.
“He’s going to help you get on that bus, Winnie,” I whispered. “If anybody sees you, no one will mess with you.”
The look of betrayal dropped away and was replaced by a glimmer of hope as Winnie looked past me o
nce more. After what felt like forever, she gave a nod, and I got out of their way and watched Brad and Winnie leave together.
I savored what was probably going to be my biggest good Samaritan moment of the year, that is until I heard my customer cough. They wanted their food. I rushed back to the kitchen and got back to work.
Chapter 30
The cookies! I can’t believe I didn’t ask Winnie about the cookies!” I hit my head on the stainless steel counters in the kitchen.
“It’ll be okay,” Melanie consoled. “The dinner service went great! I even got bigger tips tonight! Everybody loved your food.”
“Really?” I stood up and gave Melanie all my rapt attention. She was throwing me a lifeline. “Everybody really did like it?”
“They loved it!”
I’d been nervous about it, but after the fifth dinner plate went out, I took the dinner off the Oops Board and charged full price. I’d have to rethink my idea about going with cheaper meals to make a higher margin. The steaks had been expensive, but the tomatoes, potatoes and onions had all been on the inexpensive side. With those inexpensive items paired with the meat, I was able to make a decent profit. If I had more nights like tonight, the café was going to be okay.
“Need any help cleaning up?” Melanie asked.
“No, go ahead and bus the tables and then take off. You’ve been fabulous, Melanie. Thank you for everything.”
Melanie was gone in a flash, no doubt eager to reclaim her life. As for me, I got to work fixing a small, fresh pan of steak fries and crumble-topped tomatoes. There were enough caramelized onions to do for two more meals, and that’s all I’d need. While the fries and tomatoes cooked, I cleaned. I’d always been good at cleaning, but now I was a pro. No movement was wasted. No second was lost. By the time the fries and tomatoes were cooked, the industrial dishwasher was loaded and the counters were gleaming.
I sent Zoey a text. “Come over for a steak dinner and wine?”
My phone buzzed almost immediately. “You had me at wine. Be right there.”
It was pushing midnight by the time Zoey arrived, and I had our steaks cooked and our plates in hand on my way to the table.
“Lock it behind you,” I called over my shoulder as she pushed through the café’s front door.
Zoey sat at the small table I’d prepared, and I poured us each a glass of red.
Zoey’s brows were arched in what I took to be a mixture of disbelief and surprise. “This looks amazing. You did this?”
“Yep! It’s all me.” I sat down and we dug in.
Zoey made her first bite one that was stacked with onion, tomato and blue cheese, and then the perfect slice of steak. “Oh my God,” she said around a full mouth. The disbelief was gone and all that was left was surprise.
“I did good?”
“You did great!”
We ate, drank, and laughed. It was good to have a moment to enjoy with Zoey that didn’t include worrying who was trying to kill us or wondering if one of us was going to be heading off to prison. But the laughter and the talking stopped when the rattle of the café’s front door reached my ears.
“Expecting anyone?” Zoey whispered.
I shook my head no.
Together, Zoey and I slid out of our seats and then duck walked up the length of the café until we were able to see who our late night visitor was. It was Patty, and she was scowling at the uncooperative door something fierce.
Standing up, I rushed to the door, unlocked it and let Patty in. “Is everything all right?” I worried that I was going to be getting news that Derek had been found out and was now bleeding out somewhere in the street.
Patty wrung her hands nervously. She had a thick, short build, and baby fine straight hair that lay on her head like a cap. Thankfully, her cold appeared to be gone. “I heard what you did for Winnie. It was real nice of you.”
My gut clenched. She was about to lay her own sob story on me and ask me for money. How would I be able to say no? How could I say no?
“I wanted to fix you up some more cookie dough as a thank you.”
I gasped, and without even thinking about it, I threw my arms around Patty in a big hug. She went stiff as a board, and when I pulled away, her eyes were wild and her face had gone pale. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” I reassured. “It’s just that those cookies you left have helped me out so much! I’ve been looking all over the place for you. I didn’t know which of you had made them.”
Some of Patty’s color returned, she smiled shyly. “I heard.”
Zoey claimed a nearby chair and sat. “How’d you learn to bake like that, Patty?”
“I—I worked at this bakery in New York for years. We won all kinds of awards. We’d have people lined up all the way down the block for our cakes and pastries.”
“What happened?” Zoey asked, and I was thankful that she’d been the one to ask it. I wondered too but felt embarrassed being so forward as to contrast what Patty’s life had been before with what it was now. Homeless and on her own.
Patty started wringing her hands again. “I, uh, started hearing voices and not doin’ so well. I had to go away for a while. When I got done, the bakery wanted me back. They did. But the voices told me not to. Hank, the owner, he’s gone now, and the shop closed. It’s all gone now.” Patty’s own voice trailed off to nothing as she spoke.
“Well, I’m glad you’re here now,” I said. I did my best not to let her see me tear up. “Would you be interested in coming to work for me by any chance?”
Patty took a step back. Her mouth was slack, and her entire visage was filled with fear.
“Or not!” I said hurriedly. “You don’t have to work for me. Not at all. No pressure.”
Patty’s mouth closed and her gaze darted all around as she nodded her head, but I wasn’t sure if she was nodding it because she agreed with what I’d said or if her head was wobbling from her nerves being so completely worn out. But then she took a deep breath, and it was like a new strength filled her. She smiled. “I’m going to make pecan sandies with a roasted marshmallow topping.”
I’d never heard of such a thing, but I wasn’t about to complain.
“And I’m going to make red velvet cake cookies, and ginger sugar cookies.”
I desperately fought the urge to grab her in another big hug. “Patty,” I said, knowing that I was about to test the boundaries of what she could handle, “do you think I could learn from you?”
“Oh… Oh.” She looked me up and down like I might suddenly morph into the boogie man. “Um, yes?” Her eyes moved around her head like she was listening to something only she could hear. Then she smiled big, and said, “Yes.”
“Ah! That’s great!”
“But not tonight.”
“Okay.” It was my turn for my head to bob up and down in an out of control nod. “Whenever’s good for you. Anytime. Day or night.”
She smiled, patted my arm, and then trundled off to the kitchen. I did not follow her. If that woman was making me more cookies, there was no way that I was going to risk jinxing it by scaring her away. Instead I did a little happy dance and got a high five from Zoey before we returned to eating our dinner. It didn’t take long for our conversation to get around to Mike and his murderer.
“Are you ready to cross Tina off our list of suspects?” I asked.
“No way. She’s straight up nuts. She could have killed him and then blocked the whole thing out.”
“Yeah, I didn’t get the sense that she knew she’d done it—if she did do it.”
“That leaves Susie—”
“I still don’t think it was her.”
“Betty—”
“Not sure what her motive would be if she didn’t yet know that Mike was dumping her. Of course, it’s super weird that she’s not grieving his death.”
“Super weird,” Zoey agreed. “And there’s also Clara.”
Clara with her perfect coffee house. Prices higher than I’d dream of charging. Customers at every tab
le. “I think it’s her.”
“Really?” Zoey said.
“What?”
“You hate her.”
“I do not.”
“You totally do. If her place got Molotoved, my first thought would be to find out if you needed an alibi.”
“Ahhhh, you’d be my fake alibi?” I was so touched.
“You know it.”
“Okay, so what do we do? Who do you think it was?” I asked.
“I say we go talk to Clara. I don’t know if she did it, but I think that she could have done it.”
“I think Betty might be covering for Clara or Clara might be covering for Betty.”
I shook my head. “I’m not sure. Neither one of them is torn up about Mike’s death, but both of them had significant dealings with Mike.”
“Yeah, I’d say that that’s why they’re not torn up about Mike.”
“And check this out.” I pulled out my phone and brought up the pictures I’d taken of Betty’s scheduling book for the Monday that Mike was killed. I zoomed the image in so that it would be easier to read and handed it over to Zoey. “Don’t you think it’s awfully convenient that Betty’s two hairdressers are suddenly out of town and unavailable to be interviewed? There’s now no one to corroborate her alibi. And, look at that. The other two hairdressers had appointment after appointment of haircuts, but look at Betty. She’s got a three and a half hours blocked off for a perm. Nothing else is scheduled while the perm is setting. She could have put all those chemicals on her customer’s hair and then left while the perm set. Heck, for all we know one of the other hairdressers rinsed the perm off, which would have given Betty even more time.”
Zoey studied the picture. “The timing is right for Mike’s death.”
“And Betty saw Susie and Mike get into a big fight earlier that morning. She knew she had someone to pin it on.”
“So what will going and talking to Clara in the middle of the night do for us?”
A Berry Clever Corpse Page 19