by Linda Reilly
“Yes, I saw your mom struggling with her grocery bags and offered to drive her home.” Talia knew she sounded defensive, but the way Crystal was looking at her made chills creep up her arms.
With that, Crystal burst into tears. “Oh God, this is all so embarrassing. You coming here, seeing me like this . . .” She sucked in a long, drawn-out sob, then swiped at her eyes with one bare wrist.
Talia rushed to her friend, enveloping her in a fierce hug. “Crystal, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. This is all a mistake, you’ll see. The police will find the real killer.”
Crystal sniveled against Talia’s shoulder. Feeling helpless, Talia patted her on the back. “This will be over before we know it. I promise.”
Finally, Crystal pulled away. “I wish I could believe that. Look what they’ve done to me! Do you know how humiliating this is?” She stuck out one leg. The muumuu fell away, revealing a black device strapped to her ankle. It looked like an oversized watch.
The tracking device.
Oh God. Poor Crystal, having to wear that awful thing. Still, it had to be better than sitting in a jail cell.
“Crystal, I’m so sorry for all of this,” Talia said. “It’s obvious that someone set you up to take the fall for Norma’s murder.” She wanted to add that she was trying to find the real killer, but Crystal tended to blab. What if she inadvertently blurted to Detective Prescott that Talia was on the case? Talia would be in hot water up to her eyeballs—that’s what.
Rhonda stepped gingerly between them and laid one plump arm on Talia’s shoulder. “I’m going to make some tea. Can you stay for a few minutes, Talia?”
She really needed to get back. But here was another opportunity to question Crystal a bit more. Not that she thought for a minute that Crystal was guilty. Maybe, though, she could glean something about her financial situation.
Talia stole a glance at her watch. She’d been playing hooky on and off all day, leaving Martha and Molly in charge. She knew they didn’t mind, though. Plus, staying busy helped keep their minds off Lucas. Molly, in particular, would be thrilled to know that she was visiting Crystal. She sent off another quick text—this one only to Molly. Molly texted her a thumbs-up, and she stuck her phone back in her purse.
“Okay, but only for a quick cup,” she said.
Rhonda had the tea set up in no time, seating them all at the kitchen table.
Crystal dumped three sugars into her mug and stirred. “It’s so good to see a friendly face,” she said, and then scowled. “That district attorney didn’t waste any time getting a warrant to investigate my finances. ’Course he’s running for reelection, so he wants to pin the murder on someone fast and make it stick. He doesn’t care if he ruins an innocent person’s life!” Her brown eyes filled with tears.
“Crystal’s ex is to blame for all of this,” Rhonda said quietly. “He left my daughter high and dry. Drained their joint savings account and took off with some floozy he met on a business trip. Horrible man,” she added. “Be glad you didn’t know him.”
Some floozy he met on a business trip. The words made Talia’s stomach flip over.
“When I sold my diamond engagement ring,” Crystal told her, “I found out it was nowhere near as valuable as I originally thought. He’d bought it at some discount place, not at the Jewelers Building in Boston like he told me. One of the diamonds was real, but the smaller ones were all zircons.”
Talia mulled that over, then crossed her fingers under the table. “Crystal, I don’t mean to be nosy, but . . . if you were in bad financial shape, how did you get enough money to go into business with Audrey?”
Crystal flushed. She and her mother exchanged glances. “Mom gave me most of it. She still gets a small pension from the paper mill in Pittsfield, where she worked before she retired. She also had some savings. Not a fortune, but it was a big help.”
Rhonda nodded, her eyes filled with sadness.
Crystal reached over and grasped her mother’s hand. “But it was a loan, not a gift, wasn’t it, Mom? I had every intention of paying it back once Audrey and I got the business up and running!”
“Are you and Audrey equal partners?” Talia asked.
“Sixty-forty,” Crystal said, her voice wilting. “She put in the larger portion, which was a stretch for her, too. She’s helping put Molly through UMass. Her husband died quite young, as you probably know. Kept saying he was going to get life insurance but never got around to it. And then—” She flipped her hand over.
Talia took a sip of her tea. It had a citrusy taste, which she liked. “What did Audrey do before you teamed up to open the Fork and Dish?”
Crystal gave her a wry smile, and a flicker of her old self flashed in her eyes. “Believe it or not, she was a teacher. Seventh-grade history, to be exact. She got so burned out, though. Frankly, I don’t think she was cut out for teaching. Audrey sometimes lacks . . . patience.”
Interesting. So Audrey owned the larger half of the business. Which, Talia assumed, gave her more power in the decision-making process.
“What about you, Crystal? What did you do before you opened the store?”
“I was a paralegal,” she said. “When the economy tanked, my law firm cut back on expenses.” She pointed a finger at her chest. “I was the expense they cut back on.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“After that, I could only get part-time work.” She gave Rhonda a grateful smile. “Thank God for Mom, who let me move in after my slug of an ex and I unloaded our house. I’m still paying off the shortage on the promissory note. He, naturally, took off for parts unknown with his bimbo. But we both signed the note, so now I’m stuck. Jointly and severally, they call it.”
Well, Talia thought, that helped to explain Crystal’s financial troubles. “Crystal, I’m curious,” she said. “How did you and Audrey meet? Have you been friends a long time?”
“No, and it’s a funny story,” Crystal said. Talia was glad to see that she was starting to perk up a little. “I love to cook, as you know, but one night I decided to treat Mom to dinner at this new Italian restaurant in Pittsfield. The server was nice enough, and the place was sort of pretty, but when they brought our food, we nearly fainted. It was absolutely awful. Abominable!”
Rhonda nodded. “The cheese in the lasagna was like glue. I’d never tasted anything like it.” She wrinkled her nose at the memory. “Plus, the bread was stale, and they served it with margarine instead of butter or flavored oil. It was all downhill from there.”
“So, anyway,” Crystal went on, “there was a woman and her daughter seated at the table next to us. They must have heard us talking about the food, because the woman leaned over and said, ‘Is it us, or is this the worst Italian food you’ve ever eaten?’”
Talia smiled. “Was it Audrey?”
“It was,” Crystal said. “She was with Molly. After we all paid for that horrid meal, we asked if they’d like to join us for an ice cream. We all went out together, indulged in some decadent sundaes, and the rest, I guess, is history.”
“You and Audrey hit it off, I take it?” Talia drained her mug.
“Oh my, we sure did. I realized right away how smart she was. And how creative. Not much of a cook, but she had business savvy, you know? Together, I thought we made a pretty good team.”
“You did,” Talia confirmed. “Do,” she added quickly.
Crystal’s face hardened and her eyes flared. “Then that stupid announcement came in the mail about the Steeltop Foods competition. Audrey was against my entering it from the get-go. She said I’d be competing against some of our own customers and it wouldn’t look right. I should have listened to her,” Crystal choked out.
“You couldn’t have known there’d be a murder, Crystal, so stop beating up on yourself. You love to cook! You had every right to enter that contest.” Talia stopped short of saying she wished she’d never entered it herself.
Crystal sucked in a noisy sniffle. “The police claim my prints are o
n that rolling pin, but I’m telling you, it’s impossible!”
Talia bit her lip. That one had her baffled. A similar thing had happened to her friend Bea when she was accused of murdering a fellow shopkeeper. The physical evidence had pointed straight at Bea, but after the real murderer was caught, it all made a crazy kind of sense.
Talia’s suspicions ducked back to Wesley Thurman. He was the cause of all this. Had he murdered Norma? Had he come close to killing Lucas in his attempt to cover up his crime? His hatred for Norma could not have been more obvious. Yet the police seemed to be treating him like some sort of celebrity.
And what about Dylan and his Merkur? Had the police even brought him in for questioning?
These thoughts were zipping through her head when she realized that it was nearly six o’clock. She thanked Rhonda for her hospitality, gave Crystal another hug, and then left.
After she hopped inside her Fiat and buckled up, she pulled out her cell again. No text from Ryan. No missed calls.
For some reason, her mind rolled backward to Chet—the man she’d bailed on when she left her job in Boston a year ago. They’d been semi-engaged, without any real plans for a wedding, or even for a formal engagement. Chet was a successful financial planner—a sociable go-getter—who’d pushed Talia to accept a job she felt sure she’d hate. After she quit, and he failed to support her decision, she knew the relationship had to end. But here was the kicker: weeks after she left and returned to the Berkshires, she learned that all along he’d been seeing someone else.
Stop it, she told herself. Ryan was not Chet. He was different in so many ways—so many wonderful ways. Sure, Chet had had a few good points, but they’d been hidden beneath a shell of self-importance that had been nearly impossible to pierce. Ryan was completely different. His personality abounded with humor and kindness and devotion to family. He was the kind of man she’d always hoped to meet. The kind of man she was beginning to think had gone the route of the dinosaurs.
Talia stared at her phone. What was she waiting for? She sent off a quick text to Ryan, asking him if things were okay. She ended by tacking on three blue hearts and hit Send. Almost instantly, she regretted the hearts. Would he think the blue hearts meant she was sad because he hadn’t texted her? Would she come off as needy?
This time she tried calling his cell instead of texting. Her call went straight to voice mail. With a sigh, she glanced at the time on her phone. It was an hour earlier in Texas, so he was probably stuck in one of those endless meetings he often complained about. Since she’d already left him a message that morning, this time she simply disconnected.
She bopped her head lightly on her steering wheel, then started her engine. She didn’t have time to think about it now. Martha and Molly had been holding down the culinary fort for way too long. It was about time she pitched in and took care of her own restaurant.
18
The best part of Talia’s day turned out to be her return home to the welcoming meow of her darling calico cat, Bo. Bo was waiting on her usual perch atop Grandpop’s ratty old chair. Talia liked to imagine that her grandfather and Bo had been together in a previous life, although in this life her grandparents had never owned a cat. Bo seemed to relish the lingering scent of the old chair—Grandpop’s psoriasis cream? The occasional cigar he sneaked?—and was fond of rubbing her face on the seat.
Talia’s cell rang barely a minute after she tossed her purse on the sofa. She grabbed for it and slid her finger over it to answer. Bo gave her an indignant look—you’re answering that thing before feeding me?—then padded into the kitchen. Talia followed.
“Hey, are you home?”
Talia’s heart fell. Not Ryan. Rachel. “I just walked in,” she said.
“You okay? You sound tired.”
“I am tired.” And a little depressed.
“Can I come over with a pizza? I recently read an article about the mind-healing properties of pepperoni. Quite amazing what it can do. I’m surprised the medical community hasn’t picked up on it yet.”
Talia laughed. She knew Rachel was joking, but the sound of her best friend’s voice never failed to cheer her. “Sure,” she said, “but I’m not super hungry. I’d love the company, though.” She opened the fridge and peeked inside. “I have half a bottle of chardonnay. Will that do?”
“Works for me,” Rachel said. “Be there in a jifster.”
Talia fed Bo, adding an extra dollop of savory salmon casserole to her dish for being a minute late with her supper. Bo brrruped appreciatively and then dove in.
True to her word, Rachel arrived thirty minutes later, pizza box in hand. She’d pulled her dark brunette hair back into a hot pink scrunchie. It was the perfect complement to her rose-colored sandals and pink-and-white polka-dotted sundress. Rachel always looked as if she’d just stepped out of a page in Vogue, but her inner beauty outshone all of that.
Rachel hugged her for an extra second or two, then studied her friend’s face. “You look upset. It’s more than just Lucas, isn’t it?” she asked quietly.
Talia felt tears push at her eyelids. She didn’t want to cry, not now. Save that for later when she was alone with Bo.
“I’m devastated about Lucas,” she said. That much was true—what had happened to her young employee was a crying shame. “But I’ve also had such a crazy week, Rach. With Crystal under house arrest, Audrey and Molly are going nuts. Plus, that jerk Ferringer is trying to get me to host a campaign strategy luncheon for him on a Sunday, when I’m closed. He doesn’t seem to understand the word no.”
“That type never does.”
Talia sniffled. “All that, plus Detective Prescott keeps threatening to toss me in a jail cell if I keep poking my nose into things. But how can I keep my nose out of things when Crystal’s been arrested for a murder she didn’t commit and Lucas is, you know, lying in a hospital bed?”
Rachel pulled out a kitchen chair for her friend. “Sit,” she ordered. She snagged two flowered dishes from the set that once belonged to Talia’s nana and set them on the table, along with two wineglasses. Within moments they were tearing slices out of the pizza box and gobbling them down. The combo of spicy cured meat and gooey cheese tasted heavenly. Talia was hungrier than she’d originally thought, and she plowed through three slices in fairly short order.
“Now I see what you mean about the healing powers of pepperoni,” she told Rachel, then wiped her lips with a napkin.
Rachel laughed. “The wine doesn’t hurt, either.” Her smile faded. “Is something else bugging you, Tal? You really don’t seem like yourself.”
Talia swallowed, then told her about not hearing from Ryan.
“You realize,” Rachel said, “that it’s been barely twenty-four hours.”
“I know, but for Ryan that’s a long, long time.”
Rachel sighed. “It is, isn’t it? But honestly, you’re overthinking it, Tal. You’re reading too much into his not calling or texting. For all you know, he could have dropped his phone into the hotel fountain and wrecked it!”
Talia smiled, but her heart felt leaden. “And couldn’t find another phone anywhere? In the entire hotel? I’m not buying it, Rach.”
“You know what I think?” Rachel said. “I think we’ve all gotten so accustomed to instant communication that we’ve forgotten what it was like before cell phones. The moment we text someone, we expect an instant response! I do it, too, with Derek.”
Talia smiled. That was the perfect opening to turn the conversation away from Ryan. “How are you and Derek?”
Rachel shrugged. “We’re good, I think. I’m beginning to see that he’s a tad possessive, but I’m trying to work through that with him.”
“I’m not sure I like the sound of that.” Talia drained her last drop of wine.
For a long moment, Rachel looked thoughtful. Bo jumped onto her lap and rubbed her head on Rachel’s arm. “I know what you’re saying,” she said, stroking the cat absently, “and normally I wouldn’t put up with it for a mi
nute. But we’ve had a few good talks, and I think he’s really listening. Plus—and this is a biggie—he’s starting to work some serious magic with Noah.”
Talia felt her eyes widen and her chin drop.
Noah was Rachel’s brainiac brother. Always a sensitive child, he was ten years old when he witnessed a fiery highway crash. A school bus had been involved, and several children had died tragically. It scarred his psyche deeply. His clueless parents had arranged for him to receive schooling at home but scoffed at the idea of any intensive therapy. The trauma from the accident made Noah shrink further into himself, until he couldn’t even be dragged out of the house. For recreation he found comfort in various scientific hobbies that would stymy the average mind. Now thirty-two, he worked from their stately home on Milan Drive in Wrensdale, which he shared with Rachel and their mostly absent mother. Talia knew that Rachel would have left years ago if not for the powerful bond she shared with Noah. Rachel also felt a fierce need to act as his protector.
“Rachel, that’s . . . really great! Has Derek gotten him to go outside at all? I mean, you know . . .”
“You mean in a car? On the road?” Rachel grinned. “Believe it or not, he’s taken a few rides in the patrol car with Derek. But only at night, when the traffic is light. And only on a country road with a thirty-five-mile-an-hour speed limit. Noah knows that most drivers automatically slow when they see a police car, and that helps him relax. Even so, after about ten minutes he gets antsy and wants to go home. Derek never tries to push. The second Noah shows any agitation, Derek drives him home right away.”
“But it’s progress!” Talia crowed.
“He feels safe with Derek,” Rachel added softly. She looked away, as if seeing Noah in her mind, riding shotgun with Derek in the patrol car.
“I’m so glad to hear that, Rach. Back in the day, if you remember, it was Noah who taught me how to play chess. He could still beat me in his sleep, but at least I learned the basics.”
“He plays it online now,” Rachel said. “The Internet has made such a huge difference in his life. I’m really grateful for it, despite all the bad things having an online presence can cause.”