by Maymee Bell
“If that’s the case, you two need to leave so I can do some baking.” I nodded at their idea. It wasn’t so bad.
“You’re the best.” There was a twinge of hope in Madison’s eyes.
“Don’t get too excited,” I warned.
“I know you’re going to help me. If not for me, for my children.” She threw the biggest guilt trip on me.
Now there was no way I could refuse.
Chapter Nine
When you’re not a police officer or any kind of investigator, there is something so strange about waking up to a chalkboard covered with the names of people you know who might be a killer. The next day, after I’d gotten ready for work and filled Duchess’s bowl with kitty kibble, I couldn’t stop looking over the names.
“Cat Fraxman,” I said—the first name on the list. “What did you say to Ray Peel when he told you he wasn’t going to donate the half-million dollars you needed to pay off the construction loan?”
I leaned back on the farm sink and faced the pantry chalkboard, talking to it like it was some sort of crystal ball that could show me the answer to my question.
Meow.
Duchess trotted up to me and sat down by my feet. She lifted her paw and began to lick it. I bent down and picked her up.
“What do you think?” I asked her and rubbed my hands down the exotic, long-haired white Persian feline that had been Bitsy’s baby for a few years after I left home. Duchess decided that I was her human after I moved back to Rumford. I was shocked when Bitsy actually brought Duchess to me when she figured out why Duchess had stopped eating and wouldn’t come out of my childhood room.
“Which one of those did this nefarious crime?” I gave her a quick kiss on the head and put her back on the floor. She scampered off to smack the gray toy mouse with the bell on the end of its pink tail.
Since Duchess wasn’t going to give me any insight, and Charlotte had agreed to go into the bakery for the early shift so I could do a little snooping, it seemed appropriate to start with the first name on the list. But not without pulling a few baked treats from the freezer that I’d made ahead of time. A couple of seconds in the microwave, and no one would ever know I’d made them a week ago.
“Good morning,” I trilled when I opened the sliding glass door to my parents’ back deck. Bitsy was sitting in one of the chairs overlooking the gorgeous view of the ten acres of untouched land behind their home.
“Sophia.” Bitsy turned in her chair and smiled. The pink puff ball on her small-heeled, slip-on pink house slippers peeked out from the hem of the quilt laid over her lap. “What a nice surprise. Let me get you a cup of coffee.”
“That sounds great,” I said.
Bitsy got up and neatly folded the quilt, placing it on the seat of the chair.
“I’m so glad to see you this morning,” she said, and we hugged each other.
When I’d left Rumford ten years ago, I was quite young, and our relationship was a bit volatile. She didn’t want me to move, but I wanted to see the world. When I’d moved back a few months ago, it was like our relationship hadn’t grown, and we picked right up where we’d left off. It was a little touch-and-go because she was still trying to protect me from the big bad world, but she quickly realized that I wasn’t a little girl anymore. No matter how much I’d grown, I was still her daughter—but an adult—and she’d finally started to treat me like one.
I followed her into the house and noticed the piles of plastic planters stacked at the bottom of the steps. I slid my gaze to the other side of the deck and looked down at the landscaping. Pops of purples, white, pinks, and yellows dotted the black mulch.
“What’s going on with the planters?” I asked Bitsy when I walked into the house.
“What on earth do you mean?” She avoided looking at me by busying herself and getting me a cup of coffee.
“There’s a stack of used brown plastic planters at the bottom of your deck steps,” I said. “Like someone bought them from a store and replanted.”
The island was in the shape of a half-moon and took up half of the kitchen. It had been a perfect gathering place when I was growing up. We’d had a lot of conversations at that island, and I’d done a lot of homework there, but my best memories in this kitchen were about the baking. I’d been making creations since I could remember. When Bitsy and Dad built the house, Bitsy had to have the latest and greatest. No expense was spared on the kitchen. The interior decorator insisted they’d love the tall white cabinets and the white tile floor as well as the big island. Bitsy did love all of that, my favorite things were the industrial kitchen appliances that Bitsy saw as decorations and I saw as the perfect tools to create the best possible pastries.
I dragged the steaming cup of coffee across the island and pulled it up to my lips as I leaned my hip on the granite.
“Who knows.” She shrugged and topped off her mug. “Your father is always finding things around here to throw away.”
“They don’t belong to the pretty gerbera daisies, at least I think they’re Gerber Daisies,” I eyed her through the steam of the coffee and took another sip. “Because I’d hate to think that you’d try to pass off daisies you didn’t actually grow from seedlings at the Garden Club annual flower swap.”
Slowly, she turned her shoulder toward me, her head following. Her eyes snapped and not in a good way.
“Sophia Cummings,” she gasped. “I can’t believe …” Her jaw dropped, she closed it, it opened again, she shut it. “I don’t have time for this nonsense. Is that what you came over here for?”
“Fine.” My brows rose. “I just noticed and asked. I wasn’t accusing you of anything.”
Though, from the way she responded, I could tell I was onto something. Now it was just one more thing on my plate, to figure out how to get her not to pass daisies off as her own.
“Actually, I came over to ask you about Ray Peel and the Dugans.” With my foot, I scooted one of the stools away from the kitchen island and sat down.
“Don’t tell me that you’re sticking your nose into something.” She lowered her chin and looked down her nose at me. “I told Robert that I was worried you were going to do it again.” She referred to my dad.
“I’m not doing anything again.” I gnawed on my bottom lip. “Sort of.”
“What does that mean?” she asked.
“Madison is a suspect. And I know she didn’t do it.” I ran the pad of my finger around the rim of the mug.
“Oh, dear.” Bitsy’s brows furrowed.
“That’s why I asked you about Ray Peel and the Dugans. Did you talk to them at the fund-raiser?” I asked.
“I talked to Tammy Dugan, but not the rest of them. Ray was a bundle of nerves that night. He wasn’t really engaging in conversation at all. I figured he was nervous about giving so much money away. I know I’d be as nervous as a cat in a roomful of rocking chairs.” She sighed. “I can’t believe Madison is a suspect.”
“Did Tammy say anything?” I asked.
“About what?” Bitsy’s head tilted to the side.
“Anything about the winery?” I tried to be nonchalant in my questioning, but I could tell Bitsy’s radar was on full alert.
“No. I asked about her son and that fancy college I’d heard he was going to, and she said he was excited.”
“She didn’t say he wasn’t going?” I clearly remembered her telling her father that without the income of the winery, she couldn’t pay what her son needed to go to the Ivy League college.
“What are you getting at?” Bitsy knew me well enough to know I was digging around.
“I need you to keep your nose in the gossip circles of your clubs.” I leaned over the island. “Madison had a meeting with Ray Peel. He was selling the land the winery sits on. The winery lease is up, and he wasn’t going to renew it with the Dugans. When I went to get my check for catering the fund-raiser, I overheard Tammy telling her father that her son couldn’t go to the school if she didn’t have the job.”
&
nbsp; “How does this make Madison a suspect?” she asked.
“He’d made fun of her because her clientele isn’t as wealthy as he is, and he didn’t believe she’d have the contacts to sell such an expensive property.” I shook my head. “But that’s not the problem. I think the Dugans have more motive to have killed Ray than Madison.”
“What do you want me to do?” she asked.
“I want you to listen to the gossip and ask around if anyone has heard anything about the sale of the property. You run around with all those rich people. You know what they’re going to be talking about,” I suggested.
“Are you saying that we need to investigate?” There was an upbeat tone in her voice as she straightened up her shoulders.
“I’m … um …”
“This is great! You’re finally including me.” She rubbed her hands together. Her eyes grew big. “We can call it …”—she hesitated before a grin as big as the day is long crossed her lips—“Operation Merlot.”
“Wait.” I pushed myself off the stool and stood, trying to figure out exactly how she’d just turned this into an investigation with her involved. “Not an investigation.”
“Sophia, who do you think you’re talking to?” She sent me a sly eye. “I’m your mother. I know you better than anyone, and I can see that little noggin of yours is filled with crazy ideas about how you’re going to get Madison off the list of suspects. You need me.”
“But this is not …” I stopped when I could see she wasn’t buying it. “Operation Merlot does have a good ring.”
“I’m pretty witty when I need to be.” She lifted the mug to her mouth and with a wry smile took a drink. “I’ll meet you at your house tonight to discuss what I find out.”
“You can’t do that. Carter and I are going out to supper at the new Café Italia.” I looked at my watch. It was almost that time of the morning when he usually called. If he called while I was at my parents’, he’d know something was up because I never went to my parents’ house this early in the day. “I’ve got to get to the bakery,” I told Bitsy and left out the minor detail that I was going to stop by the library to ask Catherine Fraxman, the Rumford librarian, a few questions.
“Then when are we going to get together and compare notes?” she asked.
“I’ll call you.” I gave her a kiss. “I set some treats over there on the table.”
“You love to fatten us up.” She winked before we gave each other a hug goodbye.
The Rumford Library had always been the town’s heartbeat, and that’s how the committee had come up with the name of the fund-raiser. Clubs, groups, and government committees used the library’s conference room to hold their monthly—sometimes weekly—meetings. This was one of the reasons for the expansion. There’d been talk of a new government building, but it would change the charm of Rumford, and that wasn’t a compromise the citizens wanted to make. In a unanimous vote, the townsfolk had decided to invest in the library so that the entire town population would benefit. That included the expanded children’s section. Anytime children were included, the entire town was on board.
Rumford, being the small town it was, meant that it only took me a few minutes to get across to the south side of town, where the library was located.
The one-story library was actually pretty big and long, but the addition of a second floor was going to be so nice. The double sliding doors that led into the library opened automatically, and the smell of print books circled around me, bringing wonderful memories of my childhood and causing me to glance to the right, into the children’s library, where the short shelves, bean bags, and computers waited for the children.
The reference desk was directly across from the children’s section.
“Sophia, what are you doing here?” Catherine was behind the desk. She lifted the ruffle on the edge of her blouse sleeve and looked at her watch. “You’re a little early for Friends of the Library. Like two days early.”
Friends of the Library was the club that Bitsy had started after she and a group of her friends started meeting there for book club. She’d drag me to book club on a regular basis, and when other people in the community came into the library and noticed our group, Bitsy realized there was a need to spread the word about books and what the library had to offer. This was one of her many proud accomplishments she liked to boast about.
“You know what they say about the early bird.” I pulled a bag of the Flips-Flops out of my purse. “You get the first fresh batch of the day.”
Technically it was freshly out of my freezer.
“Uh-oh.” Her eyes lowered. “You’re buttering me up for something. I’ve seen you use this trick on other people.”
“Cat. We’ve been friends for a long time. I’m here to make sure I’ve got all the notes correct on my list of items you want me to make for the ribbon-cutting ceremony.” I pulled out the list. “I mean, it’s been a while since we made the list.”
“I thought I signed off on the list a few weeks ago.” She opened up the bags and took one out. She pointed to the list in my hand. “On that paper too.”
“Yeah, but I just wanted to make sure. I mean, I’ve lost a lot of money in the past couple of days, and it’s not a habit I need or want to get into, so I’m double checking with everyone.” Wow, I surprised myself, pulling that lie out of nowhere. Not that I was totally lying. I was out of a lot of money since I’d yet to be paid by the Dugans. Then there was the whole Lanie Truvinski thing. Though she’d given me a partial payment.
“Tell me about it.” She looked over to the construction workers coming through the door with their gear, getting ready to start their day. “I’ve got to meet with the Friends of the Library to let them know Ray Peel didn’t …” She shook her head. “That doesn’t matter now. The poor man is dead.”
“Yeah. I can’t believe it. I’m so sorry he didn’t give you the donation. Do you know why he decided not to donate?” I asked with a sudden urge to know the answer.
“He said he’d talked it over with his financial someone or other and that it wasn’t going to be a good donation for this year. Or something like that. He said all sorts of other stuff too, but all I heard was he wasn’t giving the full five hundred thousand.” Her voice cracked. “If that was the case, we’d have been doing way more fundraising drives. Now we’re going to have to pay some sort of fee for turning the construction loan into a building loan since we didn’t have all the funds to build upfront.”
“Did he mention the name of his financial advisor? I need some advice about the bakery.” I really hoped she’d heard him say something.
“No. I mean, he could have, but I was so mad at that point I couldn’t even think straight.” Her jaw tensed.
“What did you say to him?” I asked.
“What could I say? I walked up to him at the fund-raiser and told him how I’d gotten one of those big checks made with the five hundred thousand dollars printed on it. After I announced his big donation, I was going to have him sign the fake check and hold it up for the newspaper to take a photo. I was even going to name the new children’s wing after him. I was going to announce that too. It was all planned out, and he ruined it,” she spat.
“I’m sorry.” I gave her as much sympathy as I could without making her realizing I was being nosy.
“I don’t mean to speak ill of the dead, but between you and me, he’d wronged too many people. I was warned. I knew better.” She sighed.
“Warned? By who?” I asked.
“Reba Gunther,” she snarled.
“Reba?” I asked, once again connecting Reba to Ray. Only this time Cat was connecting Reba to Ray in an unfriendly sort of way, while Ella Capshaw had put Reba and Ray together romantically.
“She said something really strange about the winery,” Cat said. “The other day when I was there to see Ray about doing the speech for the ribbon cutting, since I was going to be naming it after him due to the big donation.” She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I can’t dwell
on that. A dead man ain’t gonna give me any money now.” She let out a deep sigh.
“What about Reba?” I hurried her along.
“When I was there, Ray was in a pretty heated meeting with Giles. I asked Reba about it because Reba knows everything going on in that place. She said the lease was coming up, and Ray had put in the new lease that he got fifty percent of the wine sales.” Her words nearly stopped my heart. “Apparently, Ray knew Giles wouldn’t go for it, and it’s why he put the clause in the agreement.”
“Do you know anything about contracts? Lease contracts?” I wondered if I could get my hands on the contract between Ray and the winery.
“Like what?” she asked.
“Is the actual contract public?” I knew that Cat would know since she’d been involved since the beginning.
“No.” She shook her head. “If there was a sale of the property, you’d be able to get the deed and bill of sale from the courthouse, but not a contract. That’s probably with the lawyers, though.”
“I wonder who their lawyers are?” I’d assume that since he was a lawyer, Perry would be his father’s.
“I have no idea.” She looked at me with a suspicious eye. “Why are you asking about all of this?”
Madison was the police’s number-one suspect, and I just knew she didn’t do it.
“You know what?” I looked at my watch. “I’ve got to go, but I’ll be back, and we can go over that list for the ribbon-cutting ceremony then.”
“But I won’t have time later,” Cat called after me before I headed out of the door. “You’re the one who needs to go over it. Not me.”
“I’ll call you.” I waved over my shoulder.
As I hurried to my car, I dragged my phone out of my bag and scrolled through my favorites to find Carter’s name.
“Good morning,” he answered in his slow Southern drawl. “How did you sleep?”
“Fine.” I got into the car and started it up. “Did you talk to Reba Gunther about Ray Peel?” I asked.
“Seriously?” He didn’t sound happy with me.