by Hillary Avis
“Nice,” Coop said. “Maybe we’ll find them when we do a search.”
“Anything else that might be incriminating?” Charley asked. “Besides the kerosene lamp—we already know about that.”
“Speaking of the kerosene, she had negatives of Amara’s house burning down! She basically documented the whole thing, right up until the fire department arrived.” Bethany felt her pockets and then looked around the room. “Did my phone make it out of there?”
“Oh! Yes!” Kimmy ran to get her purse from the hook by the door. She opened it and took out the phone. “It’s fine. It was still in your pocket when you got to the hospital.”
She handed the phone to Bethany, who pulled up the photos of the negatives. She zoomed in and gave the phone to Charley.
“See? The first photo is when the fire had just started, and then the last is when the house was totally consumed.” Bethany pointed to the photos as Charley scrolled through them.
Kimmy’s hand flew to her mouth. “I don’t think I can even look at those,” she said, tears springing to her eyes.
Bethany put an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “Amara can rebuild it exactly as it was, now that she’s off the hook for the arson and can collect the insurance money.”
“These are great. Really great,” Charley said, handing the phone back. “I sent them to myself so you don’t need to come down to the station.”
“I hope I never have to go to the police station again.” Kimmy grimaced. “No offense, but I’ve had enough law enforcement this week to last the rest of my life.”
Coop chuckled. “You might want to come down there, though, if only to see Perez’s new luxury suite.”
Charley grimaced. “What he means is that I got promoted to detective and am moving to a new office. It’s only a little bigger.”
“Wow, congratulations!” Kimmy said, her face lighting up.
“Was it because of this case?” Bethany asked. Charley nodded. “You’re welcome, then! That’s almost worth getting blown up for.”
“Yeah, I owe you both a drink.” Charley smiled broadly.
“I owe you one,” Kimmy said. “For keeping my auntie out of jail. You really listened to us and believed us.”
“Well, when this case is closed, I’d love to take you up on that,” Charley said.
Bethany grinned at Kimmy. “She’d love to take you up on that,” she repeated.
Coop cracked up, and his laughter made Sharky bark.
“I heard,” Kimmy said, looking at the floor in embarrassment. “I’d like that, too.”
Charley got to her feet, biting her lip to hold back a smile. “Come on, Coop, we have everything we need.”
“Perez is calling the shots now!” Coop gave Sharky a final pat and set him down on the floor. “We’ll be in touch if we need anything else.”
“Call me,” Charley added, looking at Kimmy. “I’m there if you need me.
“Got it.” Kimmy held up her phone. “I’ll let you know when my aunt arrives in town.”
Bethany closed the door behind the cops and leaned against it. She squealed quietly. “I think you have a girlfriend!”
Kimmy rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t stop smiling. “One date does not a girlfriend make. I owe her one for saving our lives—after that, we’ll see.”
“She’s cute, Kimmy. I have a good feeling about her.”
Kimmy giggled and then pursed her lips, pretending to disapprove. “I said we’ll see.”
“When does Amara’s train get in?” Bethany clicked on her phone to check the time. One o’clock—and seven missed calls from Mom while the phone was in Kimmy’s purse. She sighed. She was going to have to face that music sooner or later.
“Not until three. Want to come with me to welcome her home?”
Bethany nodded. “We should bring this little guy, too!” She nudged Sharky with her foot so he’d stop gnawing on the coffee table. “If only so he doesn’t ruin another piece of furniture.”
Kimmy looked around the room. “I’m not sure there’s anything in here he hasn’t customized!”
“This is why we can’t have nice things,” Bethany said solemnly. She scooped up Sharky and snuggled him. “I’m gonna miss you when you’ve gone back home, though.” She jerked her head up to look at Kimmy. “Not that I want them to move in permanently.”
Kimmy waved her hand and giggled. “Of course not. A week longer, tops. Hey, are you hungry? Want some lunch?”
Bethany’s stomach growled at the mention of food. “Yeah, my hospital hot cereal has definitely worn off. What’s on the menu?”
“I don’t know—what are you going to make?” Kimmy wiggled her eyebrows.
Bethany lobbed a throw pillow at her. “We are going to make some quick omelets, and then we are going to bake cookies for Amara’s welcome home.”
Kimmy grinned. “I like how you think.”
Chapter 30
Saturday
AS SOON AS AMARA WALKED off the train, Kimmy let go of Sharky’s leash. The dog bounded toward Amara, who opened her arms. Sharky leaped into them and licked her chin until she set him down and grabbed the end of his leash.
“My darlings!” she boomed, holding her arms out toward Kimmy and Bethany. Bethany smiled and stepped as Amara embraced Kimmy, but Amara pulled her into the hug, too. “It is so good to be home!”
“It’s good to have you back,” Kimmy said fervently. “We made cookies!”
Amara let go of them to look at the box of still-warm cookies Kimmy held. “Wonderful, no chocolate,” she said, and tossed one to Sharky. He stopped gnawing on the corner of her suitcase and sat down with the cookie between his paws. Amara took one for herself and then motioned for Bethany and Kimmy to do the same.
Bethany bit into the cookie and it felt like being hugged all over again. The shortbread cookie melted and spread out over her tongue, and she smelled the warm perfume of orange zest and vanilla.
“Is this your recipe?” Amara asked Kimmy, brushing the crumbs from her embroidered wrap.
Kimmy shook her head. “Bethany’s.”
Amara looked Bethany up and down. “At least she can do one thing right! Mm, these are good.” She popped another cookie in her mouth.
Amara is back in top form, I see. Bethany pasted on a smile. “Thanks.”
“Let’s get out of here.” Kimmy handed the cookies to Bethany and picked up the suitcase, heading for the exit. Bethany followed, and Amara limped behind with Sharky.
“Slow down, child. These old bones can’t keep up.”
“Sorry, Auntie. I’m just excited to have you home.” Kimmy paused while she waited for them to catch up.
“I don’t know if I can ever go home,” Amara wheezed. “Not now.”
Kimmy looped her free arm through Amara’s and patted her hand as they resumed walking. “Well, the arson case is solved, so you’ll get your insurance money soon. Then you can find somewhere else to live, or you can rebuild the house just like it was. You’ll have the choice.”
Amara stopped again. “I do love my neighborhood. I missed it while I was at Pearl’s. Maybe I will rebuild after all. Ol’ Sharky and I can bunk with you until it’s done.”
Bethany involuntarily made a face. Kimmy looked over her shoulder and grinned at her. “Oh, I think we’ll find you a little place to stay that’s all your own, so you can spread out and be comfortable. How does that sound?”
Amara nodded and started walking toward the exit again. “That sounds just fine.”
Bethany chuckled to herself. On the way out, they passed the Honor Roll, and she noticed the help-wanted sign was still in the window. “Hey, do you mind if I stop in the bakery to talk to Olive? I’ll just be a minute.”
Kimmy waved. “We’ll wait for you in the car!”
Bethany pushed through the swinging door into the bakery. Olive saw her immediately and gave her a floury wave.
“Did you talk to Kimmy?” she called across the room.
Bet
hany nodded and made her way to the counter. “She told me what you said about the job. I really appreciate that you rethought the position. I’d love to apply, even if it’s just for the summer. I think it could be a good way for me to work while I get my catering business off the ground, plus I’d love to learn what you do here.”
Olive gave a satisfied little sigh. “Perfect. You’re hired. You come with the best references.” She winked.
Bethany hesitated. “Do you—have you read the articles about me in the paper? Do you think that’ll be a problem? The case has been solved and everything, but it might take a while to get sorted out in the public perception. People still think of me as the ‘crime chowder’ girl.”
Olive smiled, her eyes twinkling. “I hope they’ll soon start thinking of you as the bakery girl. The proof will be in the pudding.”
“Or the evidence will be in the soup,” Bethany joked. “Would you like one of my cookies? Kimmy and I made them this afternoon.”
Olive nodded and reached for one. “Don’t mind if I do. It’s not often that I get to eat someone else’s baking.” As she tasted it, her face smoothed until she looked almost blissful.
“Do you like it?” Bethany asked eagerly.
Olive grinned. “You know—I think you’re going to work out just fine here, bakery girl. You start on Monday.”
Bethany left the bakery with a skip in her step. She had one thing left to do. She pulled her phone out and held it to her ear as she walked out to the car.
“Hi, Mom? I just wanted to catch you up on a few things.”
Epilogue
Three weeks later
“THANK YOU ALL FOR COMING!” Olive said, clasping her hands together. The crowd that had gathered at the steps of the old church on Hosanna Street strained forward to hear her words. Bethany stood on a chair to see over the crowd from the food service table. “As the president of the Newbridge Historic Society, I’m thrilled to welcome you to the ribbon-cutting ceremony for our town museum and cultural center!”
The crowd clapped and cheered, but Bethany smiled sadly. Olive really was the perfect person to be the new president of the historical society—kind, fair, and well-versed in local history—but it was bittersweet that Todd’s death made this happy scene possible.
I hope that, wherever he is, he’s at peace.
“This will be a place for the whole town to gather and remember our past, and especially for this wonderful neighborhood, the heart of our community. I’ll step aside so the new museum director can say a few words. Dr. Washington?”
George joined her on the steps. He wore a blue suit and a brown knit tie that looked straight out of the 1970s, back when he was a young history professor. Bethany hadn’t known he was one of the leading scholars of African-American history when she met him, but Olive had quickly caught her up on his long and important career during their early-morning hours at the bakery. He’d been one of Olive’s mentors when she studied history herself.
“Hello, folks,” he said, giving a half-wave. “I guess this is it. We’ve been waiting a long time for something like this, and now we’ve got it, so it’s up to us to make the brave people who founded this church—and this town—proud. I promise you that we’ll get these doors open by the fall, so the school kids can visit. Mayor Strauss, if you’ll do the honors?”
The mayor, who’d been awkwardly standing to the side holding a giant pair of golden shears, moved to the center of the stairs and positioned the scissors on the swash of red ribbon that was strung between the handrails. “All together, now!”
Olive and George each put a hand on the scissor handles, and the mayor heaved the scissors shut. The ribbon fell away, and the crowd cheered and clapped again.
Olive turned to face the crowd, her cheeks pink. “Refreshments in the back! Bethany made her famous chowder!”
The crowd broke up and Bethany scrambled down from the chair. She straightened her apron and started filling bowls of chowder as fast as she could, dotting the basil oil on top of each. Kimmy and Charley were some of the first people to the table. Bethany glanced up at them when they approached and smiled to herself.
Holding hands—that’s a good sign.
“Couldn’t stay away, huh?”
Charley grabbed two bowls and handed one to Kimmy. “No way. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get to taste this again.”
Kimmy took a bite and nodded. “It’s really great. You’ve outdone yourself.”
“Yep. No gun in this batch.” Bethany grinned. Even she had to admit that this was even better than her chowder at the gala, now that she’d had time to perfect the balance of flavors—the sweet corn, salty clams, and earthy vegetables. And the basil oil was still the bright taste of summer on top. “Hopefully other people like it, too, and I’ll pick up some catering gigs tonight!”
“You don’t like your new gig as a baker?” Charley asked.
“Oh, I do—I just love cooking, too, and I’m not making enough money to even pay the rent!”
Kimmy shook her head. “Don’t worry about that. I’ve got you covered for the next couple months while you figure everything out. Don’t sweat it.”
“Thank you.” Bethany tried to smile through the tears that were threatening to fall in the soup. “I don’t deserve friends like you.”
Kimmy started to protest, but Bethany cut her off. “Now shoo, I need to get the rest of this soup out before it gets cold.”
Charley swiped another bowl before she and Kimmy went to talk to Olive. Bethany groaned internally when she saw who was next in line. It was none other than Alex Vadecki. He must have come to gloat. But instead of a smug expression, he looked dour and uncomfortable as he picked up a bowl of chowder and a spoon from the table, his shoulders hunched and his forehead creased.
“Are you OK, Alex?” Bethany asked. “How’s the franchise deal going?”
“What deal?” he said shortly, and shoveled soup into his mouth like he hadn’t eaten since the gala. His face shifted as he tasted it. “Hey, this is great. Can I put it on the menu at the Grotto?”
“The deal with Don Hefferman. I know you signed the papers with him. Congratulations on the deal!”
He eyed her suspiciously. “What papers? The guy skipped town before he signed. Turned out he spent his money on something else—if he ever had any to begin with. I think he was just a con man, to be honest.”
“But I saw them! They were—” Bethany stopped herself before she let on that she’d broken into Don’s office. “Anyway, no, you can’t have my chowder recipe. You’ll just water it down.”
Maybe Don signed the papers and then thought better of it. Maybe he tried the food!
She snickered in spite of herself.
“Sure, laugh about it. Thanks a lot.” Alex sighed loudly. “You’re still the same Bethany—you think you’re better than everyone.”
“Aw, come on. I don’t think that. I’m really sorry it didn’t work out for you this time. Don’t give up on the idea, though.” Bethany gave him a sympathetic smile as she filled her table with bowls of soup. No matter how quickly she ladled, she could barely keep up with the demand! “I bet there are other people here who might want to invest in a Grotto franchise. You should go mingle.”
“You’re right,” he said, looking around the courtyard with a hopeful expression. “Thanks. Don’t think this means I’ll give you your job back, though.”
“Bye, Alex,” she said, rolling her eyes. But as he walked away, she felt a twinge of sadness to close the door on that chapter of her life.
“Bad blood between you two?” Robin Ricketts held her voice recorder out and seemed to have been eavesdropping for some time—long enough to figure out that Bethany and Alex had no love lost between them.
“No comment,” Bethany said. “I’ve learned my lesson talking to you.”
Robin clicked off the recorder and pretended to pout. “Aw, you don’t like my stories?”
“Not really. Want some soup?”
Robi
n smiled and wrinkled her nose. “Not really.”
“Well, that’s all I’m serving here tonight, so...” Bethany made a walking motion with her two fingers.
Robin raised her eyebrows. “Suit yourself.” She flounced off.
For a moment, Bethany felt a surge of dread as she thought about how Robin might spin their conversation in her next article. Then she looked nearby where Amara and George were chatting by the courtyard fountain, Sharky tangling them up in his leash. George was laughing so hard he was bent over.
“Not just a swan—I’m gonna put up a whole menagerie!” Amara declared, waving her arms dramatically, and George slapped his knee.
If they can mend fences, maybe there’s hope for me and the Newbridge Community Observer. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but eventually we’ll play nice together.
HAPPY ENDING FOR HOSANNA STREET
By Robin Ricketts
Newbridge, CT—A museum and cultural center will highlight Newbridge’s storied African-American history, giving a new voice to the town’s founding citizens. The old Hosanna Street church will house the new venture, slated to open in the fall.
The structure, which was originally scheduled to be demolished this week, will be preserved intact, says museum director George Washington. “We’ll keep the character, but it might get some new plumbing!”
A ribbon-cutting ceremony for the museum was held by the historical society to celebrate the beginning of construction. Mayor Strauss, society president Olive Underwood, and Dr. Washington did the honors.
The celebration comes on the heels of the arrest and subsequent conviction of Fancy Peters, once president of the historical society and longtime proprietor of the souvenir kiosk at Newbridge Station, for the murder of Todd Luna. Luna formerly owned the church site and planned to raze it to make way for condominiums.
When asked if the city regretted the economic loss of the condominium development, the mayor replied, “The museum will bring in tourist dollars, and that’s good for Newbridge, too.”