Yeast of Eden

by Sarah Fox

  “Maybe someday,” I said quietly.

  Brett placed a hand over mine where it rested on his chest. “I’ll be here.”

  * * * *

  I woke up first in the morning and was in the midst of scrambling eggs when Brett made his way into the kitchen, dressed in jeans and a gray Henley with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. He came up behind me and put his arms around my waist as I dropped slices of bread into the toaster.

  “Happy birthday,” he said quietly into my ear.

  I leaned back against his chest and smiled up at him. “Thank you.”

  “Shouldn’t I be the one making breakfast for you this morning?” he asked before kissing the side of my head.

  “I wanted to let you sleep.” I turned off the heat beneath the pan of scrambled eggs. “Besides, you’re the one going to work today, not me.”

  He was planning to work a few hours with Pedro and the rest of the crew at the house they were renovating.

  “True.” He released me. “But I can’t go anywhere until I give you your birthday present.”

  “Present?” I turned away from the stove to face him.

  “You sound surprised.”

  “I am. With all you’ve had going on, I’m amazed you even remembered my birthday.”

  “That’s not something I’m going to forget.” He picked up a small square box from the kitchen table. “And I’ve had this for more than a week already.”

  I eyed the box with curiosity. “What is it?”

  “See for yourself.”

  He handed over the box and I lifted the lid. My jaw nearly dropped when I saw the seahorse pendant and its silver chain resting on the gray satin lining. The seahorse was outlined in silver, stones of different sizes and varying shades of blue making up the body, and a small but beautiful sapphire for the eye. It was the same vintage pendant I’d fallen in love with at the antiques shop two weeks earlier, the one I’d been so disappointed to see missing from the display case on my last visit to the store.

  “But…” I was still too stunned to speak.

  Brett grinned. “Surprised again?”

  “I’ll say. How did you know I wanted it?”

  “I saw you admiring it that day we went into the antiques store together.”

  “I really wanted to buy it.”

  “Now you don’t have to.”

  “No.” I picked up the pendant, running my thumb over the smooth stones. “Thank you, Brett. I love it.”

  He took the necklace out of my hand and stepped behind me. I lifted my hair as he fastened the silver chain around my neck.

  “It’s perfect for you,” he said, his fingers brushing against the back of my neck, sending a pleasant shiver down my spine. “And not just because you love seahorses. All the shades of blue go with your eyes.”

  I fingered the pendant again. “My eyes are more dull gray than blue.”

  His arms snaked around my waist from behind and he kissed the side of my neck. “There’s nothing dull about them. They’re like the ocean. Sometimes stormy gray, sometimes blue, and always full of depth.”

  I smiled as I turned to face him, his arms still around me. “I don’t know about that, but you definitely know how to charm me.”

  He grinned, sending my stomach into a happy back flip. I loved that he still had that effect on me.

  “I mean every word,” he assured me.

  “I know you do. Thank you.”

  I kissed him, but not for as long as I would have liked. The toast popped out of the toaster and I realized the eggs would get cold if we didn’t eat them soon.

  We enjoyed a leisurely breakfast before Brett left for the day. I planned to head into town to run some errands, but I had some time to kill first. Most of the shops wouldn’t be open for a while yet. I was thinking about going for a long run and leaving my errands until later in the morning when I heard footsteps on the back porch.

  Sienna waved at me through the French doors and I hurried to unlock them so she could come inside. The sun was still low in the sky and when I opened the door the wintry air that wafted into the house had a sharp bite to it.

  “Brrr.” Sienna shivered as she stepped inside. “Morning.”

  “Morning,” I returned as I shut the door to keep out any more of the icy draft. “What brings you by so early? Shouldn’t you be on your way to school?”

  Sienna crouched down to greet Bentley and Flapjack as they approached, one with tail wagging and the other purring. “Not quite yet, and I didn’t want to have to wait all day to tell you about my investigating.”

  “Investigating?” I echoed the word with apprehension. “What have you been up to, Sienna?”

  Her eyes lit up as she spied the pendant hanging around my neck. “Wow. That’s a gorgeous necklace. Is it new?”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “Brett gave it to me this morning. It’s a birthday present.”

  “Happy birthday! I didn’t know it was today.”

  I forced my thoughts back on track. “Sienna…”

  “Oh, right. Don’t freak out, okay?” She shrugged out of her black down jacket and hung it over the back of a kitchen chair.

  “Now I’m scared,” I said, my apprehension growing.

  “Seriously, don’t be. All I did was go through the Hansfields’ garbage.”

  I stared at her. “What? When?”

  “Last night.” She grinned, practically bubbling with excitement. “Remember how we decided the killer might have discarded their gloves somewhere away from the crime scene?”

  “I remember.”

  “So even though Mrs. Hansfield might be too short to have killed Wally, I thought it would be a good idea to check her garbage anyway, just in case.”

  I put my hands to my face. “Please tell me you didn’t break into her house.”

  “Of course I didn’t. It’s garbage day today, so I figured they’d probably put the garbage out yesterday, and they did. It was in the alley, so I went after dark and poked around.” She wrinkled her nose. “It was kind of disgusting, but I guess investigating crime is dirty work sometimes.”

  I groaned as I let my hands fall from my face. “You were alone in a dark alley, poking through the garbage of a possible murderer?”

  “I wasn’t alone. I took Logan with me.”

  Logan was her former boyfriend, now relegated to the friend zone.

  “Your mom’s going to kill me,” I said with another groan.

  “Not if she doesn’t find out.”

  “She’s my friend,” I reminded her.

  “I am too, aren’t I?” Again, she whipped out her version of sad puppy-dog eyes.

  “Of course, which is exactly why I don’t want anything bad happening to you.”

  “Nothing bad will happen. Don’t you want to know what I found?”

  “Gloves?”

  “No. Something else.” She retrieved a rumpled, folded piece of paper from the pocket of her jacket.

  As she unfolded it, I saw that it was stained with something that looked like coffee, and something else I couldn’t—and didn’t particularly want to—identify.

  “Sorry. It smells a bit.” Sienna handed over the paper. “It should have been in the recycling, not the garbage.” She shook her head.

  I took the paper between my fingertips, trying to avoid the stains. It was a typewritten letter with the occasional word crossed out and replaced with a new one in red ink. I skimmed through the letter, realizing it was a draft that Glo had written to the residents of Wildwood Cove. In the letter, she requested that everyone boycott the Waffle Kingdom because Wally Fowler was a scourge on the community. She went on to say that he’d already caused too much devastation in the lives of locals and shouldn’t be permitted to create any further problems.

  When I’d finished reading th
e letter, my gaze traveled to the top of the page. It was dated the day of Wally’s death.

  “Interesting, right?” Sienna said.

  “It is,” I conceded, my thoughts swirling. “It’s proof that Mrs. Hansfield really didn’t want Wally in Wildwood Cove.”

  “And maybe she thought a letter wasn’t enough,” Sienna theorized. “So she decided to get rid of him herself.”

  “A definite possibility. Although there’s still the fact that she’s much shorter than Wally.”

  Sienna squished her lips to one side. “That’s true. So my search was pointless?”

  “Not necessarily.” I held up the letter. “This tells us that Mrs. Hansfield should still stay on the suspect list, at least for the time being. Maybe she had a taller accomplice.”

  Sienna’s eyes widened. “Mr. Hansfield!”

  I considered that idea. The only time I could remember seeing Glo’s husband was outside the elementary school during the craft fair. But that brief look was enough to know that he was at least six feet tall and broad shouldered. Plenty tall enough and strong enough to overpower Wally, especially if Wally was taken by surprise.

  “You could be on to something there,” I said.

  Sienna’s eyes brightened. “So what do we do next? Maybe I could ask Bailey some subtle questions about her dad.”

  “Sienna, no. We don’t want anyone knowing we’re looking at him as a suspect. And it’s best not to involve Bailey.”

  It didn’t escape me that I’d started to use “we” when talking about the investigation. I wanted to keep Sienna out of it for her own safety, but judging by her actions the night before, I’d be fighting a losing battle.

  She frowned. “We have to do something. What if the police don’t have any suspects? They could be working on this case forever without getting anywhere.”

  “They have suspects,” I said. “That’s kind of the problem.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Ivan and Lisa are under suspicion.”

  “But that’s crazy!”

  “To you and me it is. Not so much to the sheriff and his deputies.”

  “All the more reason to get this case solved,” she said with more determination than ever.

  I realized I’d probably made a mistake by letting her in on Ivan and Lisa’s peril. She barely knew Lisa, but she’d worked at The Flip Side for several months now and had a good deal of affection for Ivan. There was no way she’d give up on sleuthing now. Not that she would have before.

  Sighing, I realized that I really did have a sidekick now. There was no way around it, so I’d have to do my best to keep her safe.

  Chapter 16

  After Sienna left for school—with a promise that she wouldn’t question Bailey about anything to do with Wally’s murder—I set off on my run, taking Bentley with me. I didn’t go as far as I’d originally planned, too eager to get to town now that I had a new angle to investigate. Before leaving, Sienna had told me where the Hansfields lived, and it was only a few houses away from Leigh’s place. I was hoping Leigh might know something about her neighbors that would be helpful. It was a long shot, maybe, but worth asking about.

  Once I’d showered and dressed after my run, my seahorse necklace back on, I wasted no time heading into town. My first stop was at a business on Glover Street. The talk I’d had with Brett in the night had left me more in love with him than ever. It had also led me to a decision, one I had no doubts about.

  After leaving Glover Street, I headed for Swallow Drive, where I parked in front of the two-story blue-gray house where Leigh lived with her husband and their three daughters. When I knocked on the door, I was relieved to find that Leigh was home, although she was wearing a white robe and slippers, her bleached-blond hair slightly frizzy.

  “Oh, hey, Marley. What brings you by?”

  “I was hoping to talk to you about something. I didn’t wake you, did I?”

  She laughed and ushered me into the house. “No, I’ve been up for ages, but Greg took the girls to school today so I thought I’d make the most of my day off by lazing about with a cup of coffee and a good book.”

  “Sorry to disturb you.”

  “Don’t be silly. I’m glad to have company. Let me make you a cup of tea.”

  I joined her in the kitchen, where she filled an electric kettle with water. “So what is it you wanted to talk about? Is anything wrong?”

  “I guess you could say so.” I told her about the fact that Ivan and Lisa were on the sheriff’s radar in connection with Wally’s murder.

  A frown appeared on her face as I talked, and her hazel eyes took on a hard glint. “But Lisa’s a sweetheart and Ivan… People don’t understand what a good man he is.”

  I agreed with her statement.

  “You must be trying to help them,” Leigh said as steam poured out of the kettle. “So what can I do?”

  “I was hoping you could tell me a bit about the Hansfields.”

  “Glo and Forrest?”

  “Is that her husband’s name?”

  Leigh nodded and handed me a mug of orange pekoe tea. “I wouldn’t say we’re friends with the family, but we’re neighborly enough, and we’ve lived up the street from them since we moved into this place twelve years ago.”

  She refilled her coffee mug and led me over to the kitchen table, where a paperback thriller with a creased spine lay next to a stack of what looked like children’s drawings, a scattering of pencil crayons, a green binder stuffed with papers, and an assortment of paperclips and hair elastics.

  “Sorry about the mess,” she said, sweeping everything over to one side of the table. “What do you want to know about the Hansfields? Are they involved in Wally’s murder somehow?”

  “Would it surprise you if they were?” I asked.

  “Yes. For sure. They’ve always seemed nice enough. A little bit stuffy, perhaps, but not too bad. Glo’s always volunteering for some committee or charity project and she always says hello when we see each other. That said, I wouldn’t be the first person to be completely shocked to find out that their neighbor’s a murderer.”

  “I don’t know that they’re involved,” I said. “But Glo certainly didn’t want Wally Fowler back in Wildwood Cove.”

  “Understandable,” Leigh said after taking a sip of coffee. “You know the story there?”

  “Lisa filled me in about Lizzie. And there’s this.” I pulled the crumpled paper out of my pocket and passed it to Leigh.

  She wrinkled her nose as she took it from me. “Did you fish this out of a dumpster or something?”

  “You’re not too far off,” I said.

  Leigh looked at the paper for only a second or two before saying, “Ah, this.”

  “You’ve seen it before?”

  “No, but I knew Glo planned to appeal to the community to boycott the waffle house. I was on board, of course. I wasn’t about to set foot in the place. Wally was hoping to run you out of business and leave the rest of us without jobs.”

  “I’d like to think he wouldn’t have succeeded.”

  “He wouldn’t have,” Leigh said with conviction. “But I still wouldn’t have gone near his Waffle Kingdom.” She shook her head. “What a ridiculous name. And calling himself the Waffle King! I bet he didn’t even know how to make a waffle.” She sobered. “I guess I shouldn’t be speaking ill of the dead, but that man…”

  “I know,” I said, understanding and sharing her feelings. “How did you find out about Glo’s plan to get everyone to boycott the waffle house?”

  “Her cousin Jill told me about it. She’s been to The Flip Side a few times. She’s tall and muscular with short, dark hair. She’s a bodybuilder, I think.”

  “I know who you mean,” I said, dots connecting in my mind. “I saw her at the Windward Pub last night.”

  “Anyway, I ran
into Jill at the grocery store last week. She told me about Glo’s plans. She was ready to throw her full support behind the boycott, and I assured her she could count on me to steer clear of the waffle house too.” She clasped her hands around her coffee mug. “Do you really think Glo could be involved in the murder? That would be another sad layer to an already tragic story.”

  “It would, and at the moment I’m just trying to leave no stone unturned. There’s actually a problem with the theory of her being the killer.” I explained how the murderer was likely taller than Glo. “So I was wondering about her husband. Does he strike you as the vengeful type? Maybe the type to do anything to protect his wife?”

  Leigh opened her mouth to speak, and then closed it again, a line forming across her forehead.

  “What is it?” I pressed.

  “There was an incident right after Wally moved back to town.”

  “What kind of incident?”

  “Apparently Forrest was at the Windward Pub with some friends when Wally came strutting in. Forrest had had a couple of drinks and ended up shoving Wally up against the wall and getting in his face. His friends pulled him off Wally and managed to calm him down without too much trouble, but from what I heard, Forrest was spitting mad that Wally was back and dredging up terrible memories for his wife.”

  “So he’s tall enough and angry enough to be a killer. The question is did he have the opportunity?”

  “I really hope he and Glo aren’t involved. That would be terrible for their daughter.”

  “It would,” I agreed, my heart squeezing as I remembered Bailey’s sad eyes.

  I didn’t want her to have a killer as a parent, but I needed to find out the truth, no matter what it was.

  “How much do you know about Adam Silvester?” I asked. “Greg mentioned that Kayla’s in the same class as his daughter.”

  “That’s right, but why do you want to know about Adam? He’s not involved in the murder, is he?”

  “I don’t know, but he sure didn’t seem happy with Wally the other day.”