by Tonya Kappes
The little boy was in awe of Patrick. . . um Santa.
“Do you think you can help Santa carry this lovely lady’s bag?” Patrick asked the little boy, who looked up at his mom. When she gave the nod, the little boy smiled and took one of the goody bags from me. “I even bet this nice lady has a sweet treat for you if it’s okay with your mom.”
“It’s fine.” The mom’s lips pinched in a smile and her eyes twinkled when she noticed how proud her little boy looked.
The four of us headed over to the booth where Mom was waiting.
“Thank you, Santa.” Mom was good at playing the part up too. “Who is your helper?”
“I’m Bobby.” The little boy smiled at Mom. “Santa said there might be a treat in there.”
“Bobby,” his mother scolded him.
“Yes we do.” Mom pulled out a couple of Santa Kisses and put them in a The Bean Hive paper bag. She handed it to his mom. “I’ll let your mom give them to you.”
“Santa is going to go sit in his chair to see what other little boys and girls want for Christmas.” Patrick bent down to Bobby’s level. “Would you like to come over and sit on Santa’s lap and tell me what you’d like for Christmas?”
Bobby’s head drew up and down fast.
Santa gave me a little wink and took Bobby by the hand.
“Move it, Santa,” the more than usual tan and abnormally tall elf snapped a finger, “I don’t have time for all this lolly-gagging,” Loretta said.
Her short black hair was stuck under the pointy green and white elf hat with fake pointy white ears jutting up toward the falling snow.
“Maybe you should go over to the face painting and paint the ears the same color as your skin.” My suggestion was met with a glare. “I’m glad to see you back on your feet.”
“Thank you,” her “you” sounded more like “ewwwee”.
That’s the thing with southerners. We take a one syllable word and turn it into two or three. Especially Low-retta.
“I’m gonna make sure this thing’s a hit because I want to remain president. So what little time I needed to recover from seeing a dead body, I’ve got to make up for and you and Patrick playing house right here in territory ain’t gonna cut it.” She gave her warning, then switched her disposition like a well-mannered southern woman. “About the treats you gave me. They were delicious and I ate every one. Well,” she winked. “I might’ve given one to the doctor to bribe him to let me out. So I’m gonna need to come by the coffeehouse to get some to take to him because he did love them.”
“You know what,” I suggested, “I’ll get some sent over to him with a thank you note from you so you don’t have to worry about leaving here.”
“You are a dear, Roxy Bloom.” She scurried off toward the gazebo. The bells on the tips of her shoes jingled. She put her arms in the air. “Everyone Santa is back! Let’s sing. Dashing through the snow in a one horse,” she sang along with all the kids in the line.
Patrick swayed his two pointer fingers in the air as though he was conducting them before he sat down in the chair and got situated before the next kid ran up into his lap.
“Isn’t he adorable?” I asked Mom as I watched Santa take all of the children’s Christmas list in his ear.
“You two are adorable. When am I going to be a mother-in-law?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I thought a spring wedding would be pretty.” It was the flowers in the spring that made Honey Springs so beautiful. In fact, Central Park had the best layout of colors and the gazebo would be a perfect place to pledge our love in front of the town and community we love. That was a secret I was going to keep until I talked to Patrick about it. He’d be over the moon. He wanted to get married the second after I said yes a few months ago.
A very happy sigh escaped Mom.
“So what’s new?” She eyed me and turned up the electric heater that was hooked to the top of the tent. “You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind.”
“You could always tell.” I walked over to the fireplace and put in some more of those pellets to keep it going. The snow was starting to fall at a good rate, which only added to the excitement of the season. And seeing Patrick up there with all those kids made me fall even more in love with him if that was possible.
“Well? Are you going to share?” She pushed a Santa Kiss in front of my face.
“Yes.” I took it and a big bite. “Don’t get mad, but I just can’t let the Otis Peavler murder go. I was just in an Uber and the driver had been driving Otis around the last few months because Otis’s license was taken away due to poor vision.”
“At least there’s Uber for the elderly and they aren’t shut-ins without rides.” Mom always looked on the bright side.
“I’m not saying that, what I’m saying is that someone killed him and the Uber driver said that Otis and Juanita had broken up, plus Brother Mitchell said that Otis never volunteered at the church.”
“I’m not following.” Her brows knitted together.
“Never mind.” I stuffed the cookie in my mouth. “I’ve got to check something out. I’ll see you later.” I gave Mom a quick kiss on the cheek and rushed across the park while grabbing my phone and Ricky’s business card.
“Hey, Ricky,” I said when his answering machine picked up. “It’s Roxy Bloom, the lawyer who you gave a ride to Central Park today in your Uber. Can you call me? I have a couple of questions about Otis Peavler.”
I looked down the sidewalk in the direction of the boardwalk.
“You better walk fast,” I said to myself when I realized I didn’t plan this whole trip out so well. Walking back to the coffeehouse in the snow never entered my mind. I couldn’t tell Patrick because he’d stop playing Santa and Mom couldn’t shut down the booth. So hoofing it in the snow was my only option.
The cool brisk walk really did help clear my head. I’d even thought that everyone was right. I wasn’t a detective and I didn’t have any place sticking my nose into something that didn’t need me. My life was good. I had an amazing fiancé, a great fur-sidekick, my mom lived here, Aunt Maxi was here, and the coffeehouse was my passion. If I was still a lawyer and Otis had been a client like I was treating it, then maybe. I was going to have to accept the fact that he was a friend.
After trying to catch a few snowflakes on my tongue, I knew it was time to call Spencer and let him in all the details.
“This is Spencer,” he answered like he didn’t know it was me.
“Hi Spencer.” I couldn’t miss the audible sigh on the other end. “Listen, why don’t you come by the coffeehouse in about five minutes. I’ve got some information I think you need to know about Otis Peavler and I’m not going to look into it anymore.”
“Are you sure this is Roxy Bloom?” There was a hint of sarcasm. “Because if it is, you might be under caffeinated.”
“You’re a funny one. I’ll see you in five.” I hit the end call button and stuck the phone back in my pocket.
The little bit of snow didn’t make people stay in. The coffeehouse was buzzing and poor Bunny looked frazzled. Her grey-haired bob that was normally neatly parted at the side was now parted side-goggling and her apron looked like it hadn’t been laundered in months, not to mention her usual waddle had gone to a sluggish walk.
“Your aunt Maxi left me alone. There are customers in here that want a frappie this, a latte that, non-whip, light whip, fat free something or other.” She rolled her eyes. “What happened to good old Folgers?” Her voice escalated.
“Let me help you.” I got into my coffee mode and realized this would’ve never happened if I’d not spent so much time chasing after leads when that was the job of Spencer and the police.
Bunny walked around and took a few orders on a piece of paper while I started to get them ready. This was the time that I needed to hire a true barista to help out. Though it gave Bunny some social time at her age, I couldn’t get rid of her and I wasn’t at a point to where I could hire a true barista.
&nb
sp; The door chimed and I looked up as I was spraying some whip on a pumpkin spiced latte when in walked Spencer and Emily together.
“I’m so happy to see you.” My heart flipped.
“Really?” Spencer asked.
“No,” I shook my head and gestured him to move. “Her. Emily. You’re home for Christmas?”
“Yes. And I’ve got so much to tell you about what all I’ve learned.” She looked so happy.
“Great. I want to hear all about it, but put an apron on and help me.” It was my way of asking for help and offering her a place to hang during the day while she was home.
“You have no idea how much I was hoping you’d need help over the next week.” It was like she never stopped working here. She put on an apron, washed her hands and picked up right where she left off.
There was no explaining what needed to be done. She simply took one look at Bunny’s list and immediately had the espresso machine going, beans grinding and whip spraying. It was sheer delight.
“I’ll be right back.” I held my finger up to Spencer after my phone rang and I saw it was Ricky.
“Hi, Ricky,” I pushed through the kitchen door.
The chalkboard was right there when I eased down on one of the stools that was up against the working steel island in the middle of the kitchen. I couldn’t stop myself from looking at it and all of Juanita’s points about Otis, Brother Mitchell’s account of Otis, and Walker the stranger, not to mention all the lies that Otis had told me.
“I’ve got a question.” No matter how much I told my inner self to just hang up and thank him for calling back but I didn’t need anything, I couldn’t do it. “Did you ever take Otis anywhere on Sundays?”
“That was our busiest day.” He chuckled. “I’d take him to the grocery store like I said. I started to go in and help him because he was having trouble finding Jergens and Depends under garments. Plus he was having trouble packing all those bottles of Ensure.”
“He was in Depends and drinking Ensure? He just seemed so healthy.” Confusion stumbled around in my brain.
“Listen, I’ve got to go. I’ve got an Uber client.” The ding of the door from his end of the phone signaled someone had gotten into his car.
“Do you have anyone to fill Otis’s time slot tomorrow?” I asked and looked up when someone had pushed through the kitchen door. Spencer.
“Nope,” he gave a one answer word.
I brought my chin down to my shoulder and whispered into the phone, “Then can I have your entire time slot? Pick me up at the church like you did Otis.”
“Sounds good. I’m not going to give you a discount like I did him though.” He clicked off before I was even allowed to protest. Not that I would have.
“So this is where all the magic is made.” Spencer looked around and stopped when he saw the chalkboard. “This is where you do all of your CSI work.”
“Oh that.” I pish-poshed it and dragged it across the table, sitting sideways against the table leg.
“What was it that you needed to tell me so urgently I just had to get here?” His brows arched.
“Did you know that Otis’s license was taken away?” I asked.
“Yes. I think I’ve got all of Otis’s medical and personal history all figured out.” He gave a flat-grin. “But there’s something you’re not telling me.”
I had to give him something.
“Fine. When I went to see Juanita the other day, she mentioned that Otis thought Aunt Maxi was the bee’s knees. He just thought she was the prettiest and nicest thing in the world. Aunt Maxi has been getting some interesting things from her Secret Santa. Items from here that I know Otis had purchased and then she got that awful hair dye.” I rolled my eyes.
“I did notice the tinsel colored hair, but I figured it was just Maxi and her unusual style habits.” He was right. Aunt Maxi had her own way of dressing and didn’t give two hoots what anyone thought.
“Remember the box of Christmas Coffee Bark I gave Juanita, well Aunt Maxi brought that in too and said her Secret Santa gave it to her. I know it was the same because I used a special box. Juanita isn’t part of the group that’s doing the Secret Santa but Otis was.” I had to wrap it up because I could see he wasn’t following me and was getting antsy. “Do you think Juanita got jealous of Otis having Aunt Maxi and out of an argument, she killed him?”
“If Juanita didn’t have a solid alibi, I’d say you might have something, but I’m afraid you’re right about the Secret Santa thing. Otis was Maxi’s and she didn’t want Maxi to go without a gift.” He smiled, planted flat palms on the table and pushed himself up to stand. “And I did want you to know that Otis wasn’t diagnosed as diabetic. So I’ve not figured that part of the puzzle out. Just in case you were wondering.”
“Can I interest you in a free coffee since it’s so cold out?” I couldn’t get him out of the kitchen fast enough.
“Thanks, but I’m all coffee-ed out today.” He nodded. He reached in his coat pocket and pulled out a newspaper. He slid it across the table. “Otis Peavler’s obit. I thought I’d bring you a copy.”
I picked it up and he headed out the door.
“You just couldn’t do it could you.” I leaned back on the edge of the table and crossed my arms across my chest. “Still gotta keep your nose in it.” I stared at Otis’s photo in the paper.
Right then, I vowed that after tomorrow and the big secret of where Otis spent his Sundays with Ricky and going to the grocery might spur some sort of idea on what it was that Otis was keeping from the world.
Eleven
“You’re just a breath of fresh air,” I said as I watched Emily in the kitchen of the coffeehouse.
Her brown hair was swept back into a ponytail and her dainty hands kneaded and rolled the Santa Kiss cookie dough like she were playing a instrument. Her motions were fluid and precise—a dance like that normally took years to learn while in pastry school. Emily Rich was talented beyond her years.
“I’m so glad to be here.” She looked over at me with her bright eyes and cheerful spirit. “I have to tell you that in class my professor was very impressed with my skills. You know, it’s all because you let me work here last year.”
“No.” I shook my head. “You were so talented before I even got you to grind the beans.”
“But you let me have full control of the kitchen.” She stopped, her fingers deep in the dough. “I discovered something about myself while I’ve been gone.”
Her face stilled. Her bottom lip began to quiver.
“What’s wrong?” I jerked the towel off my shoulder and wiped them off before I rushed over and gave her a hug.
“I love having the opportunity to go to school and how you’ve stuck your neck out to get my father to jump on board with me following my dream, but,” her voice cracked, “my dream is to just open a bakery here in Honey Springs. The Bee’s Knees Bakery.”
“I’m a lawyer.” My head tilted and I gave her a sympathetic smile. “I completely get the way you’re feeling. You truly don’t have to go to a fancy school to open a bakery.”
“My dad will probably never go for it.” She rolled her eyes and went back to the cookies. “Besides, it’d take forever to build a building and that takes money which my family does not have.”
“Emily,” I gasped. “What if you took over the Odd Ink space next door? You have the bakery while I have the coffeehouse.”
“Is it for sale?” There was a little hope in her tone.
“As a matter of fact,” I wiggled my ring finger in the air, “I just might know the owner and my mom might just be the realtor.”
“How much?” Her shoulders slumped.
“I don’t know, they’ve yet to put it on the market because there’s an issue.” I was reluctant to tell the eighteen-year-old that Otis was murdered in the shop.
“What? Plumbing? Electrical?” she asked in her sweet innocent voice.
“Well, something a little more complicated.” I gnawed on my lip. Then
I just blurted it out. “Otis was killed there.”
“Ohhh.” Her lips formed an O and she placed the dough on the tray without looking at me. “That’s okay. Maybe I can use that to get a better deal.”
“You are going to make it in this life.” I shook my head knowing that if the whole murder thing didn’t scare her away, then nothing in this world was going to keep her from being successful.
“Then I’ll stop by your dad’s and put a bug in his ear. And I’ll say something to Patrick.” I grabbed the ground can of Christmas Harvest blend and headed out of the kitchen into the coffeehouse.
Bunny took the can from me while I walked around and greeted some of the customers. It was always good to spend some time getting to know more of the community than just the few regulars.
After I talked to everyone in the shop, I stood in the front and looked around. I walked out the door and walked over to Odd Ink. There didn’t seem to be anything going on in there anymore. The crime scene tape had been taken down and it appeared the papers had been picked up off the floor.
I ran my hands up and down my arms to chase away the chill from not wearing a coat and tucked my hands in my back pockets on my way back to the coffeehouse. Besides my phone, I felt the photo Walker had left at Cocoon.
I pulled it out and took a look at it.
“Just because a stranger came to town and Otis ended up murdered, doesn’t make him a suspect,” I said to the photo as if the woman was going to talk back to me and tell me who Walker was to her and why he had her photo and why he’d left Honey Springs so quickly. “This is what law school did to you, Roxanne Bloom,” I talked to myself.
The coffeehouse was nice and warm when I went back inside.
“You’re going to catch a cold,” Bunny warned. “What were you doing out there?”
“I was seeing what was going on next door.” I put the photo back in my pocket before she noticed and asked me about it. “It seems like the police have cleared the scene.”