by K. J. Emrick
“There will be plenty of opportunities for you to go places. Just not in the middle of the night, and certainly not by yourself until you get to know the people here.”
“I don’t want to be here.” Tears streamed down her cheeks as she said the words out loud.
Cookie nodded, and tried to be understanding. “I got that. But here is where you are. And just like when you were in your mother’s house, you can make it tough on yourself, or you can admit you need help from the grownups sometimes. Don’t fight everyone, Clarissa, it only leaves you feeling tired.”
The girl rolled her eyes in frustration and slammed the bedroom door behind her.
Hopefully, she’d at least heard the words that Cookie had spoken.
Speaking of feeling tired, Cookie was exhausted. It had been a day and a half already, and except for the high point of being kissed by Jerry, most of it had not been something she’d like to repeat.
Her fingertips felt across her lips, where she imagined she could still feel the touch of Jerry’s mouth. That put to rest any doubts she’d had about his feelings for her.
So what was she going to do about it?
Chapter Six
Cookie slept like a log for a change and Clarissa was still in her bed when she got up to open the bakery. Despite her insistence that Clarissa was going to help her in the shop every day, she decided to let her sleep. After their argument last night, she felt like they both needed that.
Cream huffed at her when she started for the door. “No, dear. You stay here and watch out for Clarissa, all right?”
He huffed again, a little disappointed, and then toddled over to his food dish for breakfast.
Downstairs Cookie got ready to work. Apron on, flour ready, she wondered what she should bake today. She thought of making Jerry’s favorite. Would he come in today? If he kissed her last night, and then decided they needed some time to think about it, like she was doing with Clarissa and their issues, then would she see him at all today?
He’d better not disappear on her now. Not when she needed a friend the most.
The shopkeeper’s bell over the front door jangled. Jamie walked in.
Well. Perfect timing.
“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” Cookie said. “I was just looking for a good friend to talk to. We’re not actually open yet, but you’re always welcome anytime.”
“Glad to know it.” Jamie hugged her, then stepped back to look at her, hands still on Cookie’s shoulders. “I wasn’t going to bother you but you looked so glum standing in here.”
“Oh, do you think?” Cookie snarked. “It’s not like I have half the town calling me guilty without so much as being charged for Julien’s murder. Oh, no. Well. You didn’t come out my way to hear me complain. What can I get you?”
Jamie went over to the bakery display. There were a few things in it from yesterday, things that kept for a day or two before they went to the church. “What’s good today?”
“It’s all good. I have some muffins baking in the oven if you have time to wait?”
“I don’t have to be at work for another hour. Plenty of time.”
“Great!” Cookie was honestly glad to have her friend for company. “Let me get you some coffee, then.”
Cookie poured Jamie her coffee, just how she liked it. A little cream and one artificial sweetener. The old adage about sugar making you sweeter came to mind, and she smiled. After putting on the lid, she handed it to her friend, who smiled at her conspiratorially. “We need a girls’ night out.”
“A what now?”
“Oh, come on Cookie! It’s been too long. My boyfriend’s a pain, and you’ve got all this nonsense hanging over your head. It’s perfect! You and me, out for a drink and a movie, maybe. Just like old times.”
It did sound good. A few of the nights she and Jamie had hung out together were Cookie’s fondest memories. Still. “I was out last night, and I’m just so tired. Raincheck?”
Jamie’s eyes lit up. She could smell gossip from a mile away, like the scent of fresh bread on the rise. “You were out?”
“Yes, I was out. I’m old… well, old-ish, but I’m not dead.”
“Hmm. Anyone I know?”
There wasn’t going to be any helping it. Jamie would keep digging until she found out. And if Cookie didn’t tell her, someone in the town would. They’d been seen by the mayor himself, after all. “Jerry. I went out with Jerry. He came over and asked me out for a drink.”
“Oh, my Lord! You went out with Jerry! Oh, Cookie, that’s fabulous.” She motioned to a table. “Come and sit down. I want to hear everything!’
“Well, all right. There isn’t that much to tell.”
“Stop it. I want to hear everything!”
She sat, and they talked, and Cookie told her… almost everything. She stopped the tale at the point where Jerry had chased the shadowy figure away from the bakery.
She left out the part about the kiss.
Jamie nodded along to the story. “That must’ve been scary, finding someone lurking around here like that.”
“I tell you, Jamie, it was hard enough making ends meet before this murder happened. Now, I’ve lost some of my customers and it’s going to be harder yet.”
“Is it really that bad?”
“It is. I was just scraping by before the murder.” She went and poured herself some more coffee before coming back to Jamie. “I mean, I’m not drowning in debt or anything, but it’s getting close.”
“I bet it’ll pick up again. It has to.” She sipped at her coffee again. “Everyone loves you, Cookie. Everyone in town. Even the ones who think you’re guilty of murder.”
“Gee, thanks. Seriously, though, Jamie. What would you do in my shoes?”
“Sell the place,” her friend said without skipping a beat.
Not the answer she was hoping to hear, but she knew it was an honest one. It truly would be the smart thing to do. Not that anyone had ever accused her of being overly smart, but she wasn’t dumb, either. She would know when it was hopeless. She could sell then. Maybe for not as much, but she wouldn’t have to decide until it got to that point.
“I don’t know, Jamie. I mean, I’d still have to make ends meet even if I did sell. What kind of job could I get at this point? Who would hire me at my age? I don’t exactly have a wide variety of skills to offer.”
She appreciated her friend trying to cheer her up, but she wasn’t sure that anything short of selling out her baked goods every day for a week would help her mood. Or her bottom line. She sipped her coffee, letting the caffeine work its magic.
Jamie’s life was easier, not that Cookie begrudged her that. Jamie’s family had money and she hadn’t had to work hard a day in her life. That job she mentioned earlier was a part time gig at some business downtown, and to hear Jamie talk, it was more to give herself something to do than it was to cover bills. Her family was involved in hotels. Her parents lived in Montana, or someplace out that way, and Jamie hardly ever saw them.
“Well,” she said to Cookie, “you aren’t the only one with job troubles. Turns out my dad wants me to take over the family business. Did I tell you that? Yup. He wants to step back and have me do all the work for a change. As if.”
“You willing to do that?”
She shrugged. Not much of an answer but Cookie knew her friend. It was all the answer she was going to get. Jamie loved to know all the dirt on everyone else’s life, but she had always been kind of tight-lipped about her own.
Just as the ovens in the kitchen buzzed to say the muffins were ready, the bell at the front door jingled again.
Jessica Carson walked into the shop.
When Cookie could pick her jaw up off the floor she got up from the chair and hurried in behind the sales counter. “Just a moment,” she promised, hastily taking the fresh muffins out and setting them on the island counter to cool. What were the chances of the mayor’s wife walking in here, now?
She schooled her expression and came out to the counter. “
Good morning, Jessica. How are you feeling?”
Jessica’s lower lip quivered. She tried to say something, but then tears streamed down her face and she lost her composure. Her dark brown skin looked paler today, and her eyes were bloodshot. Her green suit was nice, but rumpled, and Cookie had the impression that Jessica hadn’t been able to concentrate on putting herself together this morning. Obviously, she was still very upset.
“Can I get you something?” she offered. “Coffee? Tea?”
“Tea would be great,” Jessica said, sniffing. She rummaged about in her bag and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe at her eyes. In the silence of the almost deserted bakery the sound of her high heels clicking on the floor tiles was a loud staccato as she found a table to sit at. She exchanged a watery smile with Jamie.
Cookie came over a moment later with some tea. “You need anything in it?”
“No it’s fine like this. Thank you.” She wiped tears from her cheeks again and shoved the now sopping wet handkerchief back into her bag before sipping the warm brown liquid. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’ve been so emotional lately.”
“You were very upset at Julien’s funeral,” Cookie said.
A few tables over, she saw Jamie watching and listening to everything.
Jessica nodded. “My husband and I have known Julien for many years. He was a good friend.”
Hmm, Cookie thought. That wasn’t quite what her husband had said. He’d mentioned that he had been close to Julien. He never said anything about Jessica being close to the man.
She wanted to ask Jessica some of the questions that were burning in her mind, but she knew if she asked them directly the woman was likely to bolt. Still, she couldn’t help wondering why Jessica had come in here today. There had to be a reason. “Can I get you something to eat? I have some muffins fresh out of the oven.”
“No, I’m fine. I’m not hungry.”
Cookie sat next to her and patted her hand. “Jessica, is everything okay?”
Jessica sat up and her eyes darted toward the door. “I’ll be fine. I’m sorry, this was… I probably need to get back.”
“You can sit for minute and finish your tea, I’m sure,” Jamie said, coming over to join them.
“Well, I shouldn’t, but I guess a little tea will be fine.”
“You have an appointment?” Cookie asked.
Jessica shook her head. “No, I just, well, Belvedere might not like me out here.”
“Out at all? Or in my bakery?”
Jessica folded her arms. “That’s not a nice thing to say. My husband isn’t my keeper, you know.”
Cookie made sure to memorize the way Jessica looked in this moment. The words she’d said, the way she said them, the look in her eye. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply anything.”
Jessica shook her head, but she didn’t relax. “No, it’s fine. I… I wanted to come here. I’m just being overly sensitive, I suppose.”
Overly sensitive my wide backside, Cookie thought to herself. There was something going on here. Jessica might be on the verge of telling her something important, but she was also on the edge of bolting out the front door. She would need to be more careful how she worded things.
A fresh round of tears streamed down Jessica’s face. Cookie’s heart went out to her, because obviously she was upset about something, but all this emotion over Julien sent up red flags for her. Why was Jessica so emotional?
“Do you want to talk about Julien?” she tried, gently. “Maybe that might make you feel better.”
“I don’t know,” Jessica said. “Just let me finish my tea.”
It wasn’t a yes, but it wasn’t a no, either. At least she didn’t hightail it out of the shop.
Cookie handed her a napkin to blow her nose on, and she sipped her tea, and they sat in silence like that for several minutes.
Which wasn’t helping her get her answers.
“Jessica,” Cookie said as casually as she could. “At the funeral, you were so upset, and then your husband took you out of the room.”
“Yes.” Sniff. “Belvedere’s a good husband. He took me right home.”
“Oh? I thought I saw someone else driving for you.”
“Well, certainly. Yes.” Jessica waved a hand as if that person was nobody important. “That was just Belvedere’s assistant. Mister Sweeney. He hasn’t worked for him long, but he’s a godsend for Belvedere getting stuff done.”
“Really? I didn’t even know the mayor had a new assistant,” she fibbed, trying to sneak more information out of Jessica. “What does Mister Sweeney help your husband do?”
Her eyes darted to the door, to the windows, and then back to her tea. “Just this and that. I really don’t know much about the things my husband does during the day. I’m his wife, not his co-worker.”
Was Cookie mistaken, or had there been some bitterness in those words?
She was still trying to think of how to bring up the other things she wanted to ask without putting Jessica on the defensive again when the woman opened up her purse. “Thank you for the tea. What do I owe you?”
Drat. How was she going to get the information now? “It’s on the house, Jessica. You’re sure there’s nothing else I can get you? Something to eat?”
“No. It’s just…”
She looked out the window again, almost like she was expecting someone to be there, watching. Cookie knew how that felt. Thankfully, no one was out on the sidewalk.
Jamie excused herself to the ladies’ room, and that left Cookie alone with Jessica.
“Can I bother you for another napkin?” she asked, and Cookie brought a few over from the dispenser on the next table. “Thank you. I just can’t seem to stop crying. I guess I’ll miss Julien more than I thought. Belvedere doesn’t seem to understand.”
Cookie’s ears perked up. “Understand?”
“Yes. There are some things a man will never understand.”
With that, she stood up from her seat. She managed a smile as she straightened the lines of her suit. “Thank you for the tea.” Her eyes locked with Cookie’s. “And, thank you for the conversation.”
As she went to the door, ideas started forming in Cookie’s mind. The message had been so cryptic that she wasn’t sure there had even been one, but Jessica had made a point of coming into the bakery this morning. She had waited until they were alone, and then she had said those very specific words, almost like they’d been rehearsed.
What was the mayor’s wife trying to say?
“Cookie?”
Jessica was at the door now, hand against the frame to hold herself up, tears making a ruin of her makeup.
“Would you…” The words stopped in Jessica’s throat, and she had to cough to get her question out. “Would you take me home, please? I don’t want anyone to see me like this.”
***
Jamie came out of the restroom as Cookie was turning off the ovens and locking the bakery up. Sure, she’d lose even more business this way, but there was something to Jessica coming in this morning, she just knew it. She’d come in early, like Jamie, obviously to avoid anyone seeing her. Then she’d made sure they were alone before giving Cookie what she was now sure was a clue of some kind.
There are some things a man will never understand.
So she could lose a little business, if it meant coming closer to clearing her name and finding the real killer. Maybe Jessica wanted to give her some proof that Benjamin Roth, good friend of her husband, had been the murderer after all. That possibility alone was enough to get her out of her shop before the morning rush had even started.
She sent a text to Clarissa before she left that said she’d be back in a little while. She also reminded her granddaughter to stay in the apartment until she was back.
The day was starting out warm and breezy. A few clouds floated by as Cookie and Jamie walked the few blocks with Jessica Carson to her house. To anyone observing they were just three women out for a walk on a beautiful day.
&nb
sp; She wondered if Jerry did plan on stopping by the bakery today. If he did, she’d miss him. They saw each other almost every day, there in her bakery.
Not today. The pursuit of evidence superseded her sitting around an empty shop waiting for a man who might be, well, her new boyfriend. She had to solve this murder. Jessica had something she wanted Cookie to see, or hear, or find out by Ouija board. She didn’t know what, but she knew it wasn’t an accident that the woman had walked into her bakery today. Her overreaction at the funeral still weighed heavily on Cookie’s mind.
What was the real connection between Jessica, her husband and Julien? There was more there than anyone was letting on.
“What a beautiful day,” Jamie remarked as they walked.
Jessica looked around, blinking her now dry eyes, as if just noticing the weather. “Yes, I suppose.”
There was something on the woman’s mind. It sure wasn’t the weather, though.
The three walked along in silence for a block more. Jessica’s house sat at the other end of town. It was an old Victorian that had been modernized on the inside she’d heard on the town grapevine. Not that Cookie would know for sure having never been inside it. She and Jessica didn’t exactly run in the same circles. The mayor’s house wasn’t exactly somewhere she got invited to. Guess that might be about to change today though.
It was a house befitting a public official. It occupied the top of the hill and was the first house a visitor to Widow’s Rest saw coming in from this direction. A long two story building, more than enough for a childless couple like the Carson’s. The circular drive led up to the front stoop. The gables were painted a deep burgundy which Cookie didn’t think was technically a Victorian color, but she wasn’t one to criticize. She lived in an apartment over a bakery, after all.
Jessica led them up the front steps and used her key to unlock the door. “Come in.”
Front door locked, Cookie observed. Must mean no one else was home.
“You have a beautiful house,” Cookie remarked, taking in the mirrors on the walls and the flowers in the tall vases and the furniture that looked like it was fresh off the showroom floor.