"I'm leaving, Pippa. I came here for real advice, not to be set up. You know what? It sounds to me as though you've been against my plan from the start! What is it, Pippa? What is really going on? Why did you tell Tegan to say all of that stuff?"
"Rachael, I can explain." She looked startled as I started to stomp out of the room. She shrugged apologetically at Tegan and started to chase after me. "Please, just stay for the rest of the meeting. These guys are really cool once you get to know them, I promise."
I pulled on my coat. "No. You can either come with me now or stay with these guys and catch the bus home later."
"You need me to drive," she pointed out. My old car didn't have GPS and I'd had to rely on her to get to the meeting.
"I can find my way."
Pippa sighed. "I'll just come with you. Hang on."
I was still fuming once we got to the car. "So are you going to tell me what is really going on?"
"I've already told you a thousand times before," Pippa said, "There's an evil spirit behind all of this! Or spirits. How else do you explain everything? I thought you were willing to keep an open mind." Pippa's face crumbled in distress. "I was so excited when you told me you wanted to come to the meeting. I thought you were finally willing to accept that all this stuff is true."
We didn't talk much during the car ride home. Of all the people I could possibly lose trust in, Pippa was the worst. We'd always been there for each other. But now I was starting to think there was some other reason she didn't want me to buy Gus's shop and she was just using this so-called 'curse'—and Tegan—to scare me off.
I finally broke the silence once we were back in my kitchen. "I'm not sure which is worse, Pippa: you lying to me about this curse, or you actually believing all this crazy stuff."
Pippa stared back at me for a long while. "Okay, yes, I did tell Tegan to advise you not to buy the shop! But I was trying to protect you, Rachael!"
I shook my head. "I knew it."
"I do believe in all this stuff that you call crazy," she finally whispered, a little sadly. "I just wish you could see it. I wish you would listen to Tegan."
"Pippa, can't you see? This club is getting in your head. And worse than that, it's getting in the way of our friendship." I shook my head. "We've been bickering for weeks now, and it's always about the same thing. I wish you would just use your brain for a second and see how illogical all of this crazy stuff is."
I stomped over to the fridge and grabbed some leftover cake from the shelf. That plan to eat more fruits and vegetables had been a failure so far. "From now on, I'm going back to solving this mystery the old fashioned way. Looking for suspects… human suspects! And finding evidence. See, Pippa, there's one crucial aspect that has been missing from all these paranormal theories, and that is evidence! These so-called friends of yours are not your friends, Pippa, if they make you lose touch with reality."
Pippa was just staring at me with her hands on her hips. It seemed like she was trying to get up the guts to say something to me.
"Maybe if you actually had a little time for me lately, Rachael, I wouldn't have needed to make these new friends."
"What are you talking about?"
My stomach had begun to ache again and I stumbled over to the sink for a glass of water. I took a large gulp, but it did little to ease the pain.
"You've been so busy with the bakery the last year or so," Pippa started to chide. "Which I don't blame you for, of course. You had to take the time to build your business up. I get that. But I was hoping that when I started working there, it would be a chance for us to spend time together again. But you've barely even been at work! You've been so preoccupied with solving this case."
"Pippa, that's not true! We live and work together, for crying out loud! How much closer do you think we should be?"
"You didn't even know about my break up!" Pippa blurted out. She immediately looked like she regretted it.
"What break up? I didn't even know that you were dating anyone."
How would she even have found time for that? And how could she have dated someone without me even knowing about it.
I suddenly realized.
"You were going out with Romeo?" My jaw was practically on the floor. Now his little fit made sense. It had nothing to do with the early mornings or the lack of caffeine in his system. It was a lover's tiff.
So that's what he'd meant that night when he'd told me to 'ask Pippa.'
Pippa was turning bright red as she looked at the floor. "I didn't think I could talk to you about it." But her voice was full of guilt, not accusations.
"You didn't think you could talk to me about it because you knew it was unprofessional of you to hire your boyfriend."
She nodded. "I thought that if you could just see what a good baker he was, you would be so pleased to keep him that you would overlook his questionable hiring."
I sighed. "That's why you were so nervous about me liking his baking." I shook my head. I wasn't angry with Pippa; I was just kind of hurt that she wouldn't be honest with me. Especially after I gave her the assistant manager job and bestowed the extra responsibilities onto her. I knew she'd always been kind of a flaky employee at the other places she'd worked, but I would have thought she'd know better than to hire her boyfriend at my bakery...and not even tell me about it.
"Rach?"
I sat down at the table and took another nibble of my cake. Pippa pulled out the chair beside me. "Aren't you going to say something?"
I stared at the table. "I was really worried about why Romeo had quit Pippa. I thought maybe I had done something to upset him." I shook my head. "I thought he’d been scared off by the tales about the ghost. Or the curse." I let out a little bitter laugh. "But it was all a lot more simple than that."
"Rachael, I'm sorry."
I swallowed. "Didn't you care that you were screwing with my business when you hired your boyfriend? Pippa, I'm down a baker now and we've been really struggling lately. Well, I'VE been struggling!"
Much to my horror, Pippa burst into tears. "I’ve been struggling as well, Rachael! I've just been trying not to show it!"
My phone began to ring.
"Rachael?" a familiar voice said. "There's been a break-in at your bakery. You ought to come down here."
Jackson ended the phone call without even saying goodbye.
There was broken glass all over the place, but nothing seemed to be missing. All the money in the register was still there and nothing had been taken.
Jackson took my statement anyway. "Is there anyone you think might have done this?"
Yeah, several, I thought. Gus, Romeo, take your pick of the litter.
"Hey, Jackson," a voice called out. "We found something."
I spun around to see Detective Crawford standing there holding a broken video surveillance camera in her hands. "Looks like they were looking for this."
My security camera?
"Where does that footage go to?" Jackson asked in a super serious tone.
"It gets sent to my computer, an old laptop that I keep behind the counter. It's not good enough for anything else."
We both hurried behind the counter. Gone.
Someone had wanted that footage.
"Which way did this camera point?" Detective Crawford asked.
"Towards the street," I whispered quietly. I was starting to get an idea of why the thief had wanted it.
Detective Crawford glanced at Jackson. "We need to find that footage."
He nodded at her and they walked out together after Jackson advised me to take the following day off and to keep out of harm's way. The two of them looked rather cozy as they climbed back into their police car, I thought.
I sat down with unsteady legs at a table towards the back. "I saw Romeo down at the police station when I was called in," I said quietly as Pippa joined me.
"What?" Pippa sat down next to me. "Why didn't you say anything?" Then she hung her head in her hands. "Oh no," she groaned.
; "Oh no, what?"
Pippa sat upright. Her tears had dried up by this stage. "Oh, Rachael, I need to admit something to you."
I braced myself for a revelation about Tegan and the paranormal society.
But she had something quite different to reveal to me.
"Please don't be mad at me."
"Okay," I said unsurely. "Pippa, just tell me what it is."
"That night when I called you late at work...upset and crying..."
"I remember."
Pippa hung her head. "It was because of Romeo. He was at your apartment. We started to argue and he got angry again just like he did that day he stormed out of the bakery."
"Pippa, why didn't you tell me that!"
"I was embarrassed about all of it, Rach. It was easier to pretend I was scared of something paranormal than to admit to anything else."
I placed an arm around her. "It's okay, Pips. I'm just glad you aren't with the wretched guy anymore."
She dried her eyes and sat up. "Do you think it was him that broke in?"
I shook my head. "I have no idea. But promise me that you will stay away from him from now on?"
She nodded.
"How did you meet him anyway?" I asked.
Another look of guilt snuck over her face. "You aren't going to believe this, Rach."
"Oh, please don't tell me he is a member of the paranormal club?"
She shook her head. "No, but I did meet him while I was investigating something to do with the club." Her voice trailed off as she frowned.
"What were you investigating?"
She was quiet for a second. "The painting," she finally said. "In Gus's shop. Romeo was looking at it as well. He seemed super interested in it. I thought he might want to buy it so I had to warn him about it. So I told him all about the curse. He seemed really sweet and interested, so I kept talking and talking. He asked me out and we started dating."
I had to ask. "Pippa, is the reason you don't want me buying the shop because it has memories about Romeo?"
She let out a little laugh and shook her head. "No. Come on. I am a little more resilient than that."
She suddenly grew deadly serious. "But, Rachael, I have to tell you something. Even though I love this job and appreciate everything you've done for me. I'm sorry, but I have to tell you this. If you buy that shop, I will quit."
"Bronson...is it?" I asked, glancing over the guy's resume. He was young, but at least he already had a few years experience working in a bakery. Plus, he was here at 6:00 A.M. for an interview. You’ve got to want a job pretty badly if you’re up and going at that hour. Plus, I was desperate.
The young man with the carrot-colored hair and freckles nodded eagerly. "That's right, miss." He had a rather charming southern accent. "I'm a quick learner. I can guarantee that you won't regret hiring me, ma'am."
I couldn't, not with the run of luck that I was having. "Can you start right away?"
I was just showing him into the kitchen when I heard the jingle that let me know we had a customer. "Sorry, we're not open for another hour or so...Jackson." I straightened up. "Sorry, Detective Whitaker. I assume you're here in an official capacity."
"Are you okay, Rachael? You're looking kind of green around the gills."
Great. Now the curse was turning me green on top of everything else. "Just a bit under the weather."
"Still? You really ought to see a doctor."
"Like I have time for that."
"Really. You have to go to one."
I nodded and promised to make an appointment as soon as he left. Not that it would do a lot of good. If I was cursed, what was a doctor going to do for me? I didn't say any of this to him, though.
Jackson cleared his throat. "Have there been any further incidents?"
"You mean has anybody else broken in? No."
He glanced around the room. "I thought I advised you not to open today."
"I chose to ignore that advice. Is there anything else I can do for you?"
Jackson leaned against the counter, his lips slightly pursed. "Have you seen Gus Sampson about?"
I shook my head. "I thought he was no longer a suspect."
Jackson looked down at the ground. "He's not." I could tell he wanted to say something, but was holding back.
I took a step closer and lowered my voice so that Bronson couldn't hear us. "Then who is?"
Jackson cleared his throat. "No one." He turned to leave. "Please let us know if you see Gus Sampson."
I narrowed my eyes. "Why? Is he still in Pottsville? Seeing that antiques dealer, right?"
"That's right," Jackson said. "As far as we know, anyhow."
He was just about to leave. "Hang on," I said suddenly. Jackson turned back to me. "If Gus is about to sell his shop—go out of business—then why is he out of town speaking to an antiques dealer?"
Jackson stood still for a moment. "That's actually a very good question."
I thought about it. "I suppose he could be, theoretically, buying for his own private collection. But with all the unsold stock he has, and his financial position, that seems unlikely."
"You're starting to think like a detective," Jackson replied. There was a hint of admiration in his voice, which surprised me.
"I thought you didn't like me sticking my nose in police business," I said playfully. "I thought you didn't want me having anything to do with this case."
"I never said that." He paused to correct himself. "Well, not recently. Your help did prove to be invaluable last time. I have to admit that. If you come up with something of interest again, I'd gladly listen to it."
I frowned. "Then why were you acting so cagey around me down at the station? Like you were afraid someone was going to see you talking to me? Seemed like you were kind of ashamed to be seen talking to me.”
A blush of red crept up the sides of Jackson's neck. "That wasn't the reason for my furtiveness."
He didn't seem to want to continue. "Oh?" I prodded. "Pray tell then."
"I didn't want Detective Crawford to see me taking to you. I was afraid she might get the wrong impression."
"Right," I said. Now it was my turn to start blushing. So, they were seeing each other then.
"It's only recent, Rachael. We've only been on a couple of dates."
"Hey, it's none of my business."
I turned back towards the counter, performing my old trick of pretending I was cleaning a really stubborn stain out of the counter. The awkward silence hung between us both for a few moments.
"Hey," I said all casually, just as I sensed that Jackson was about to leave for good this time. "What was the name of the antiques dealer that Gus was meant to be visiting?"
"Maureen Tatler," he answered. "Why's that?"
"No reason. Just curious."
I could see from the look on his face that he regretted being so candid, regretting the accidental spilling of information that he otherwise would have guarded, if not for the desperate need to cut the awkward tension between the two of us.
I forced a smile at him as he backed out of the door. I thought he might tell me not to go to Pottsville. To leave well enough alone.
But he didn't.
And I wouldn't have listened to him even if he did.
"Gus!" I said, stopping with my car key in mid-air, pointed towards my car. “You're back."
"You sound disappointed," he said gruffly, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Still keen to throw me out of my shop then?"
"No," I said, shaking my head. "It's not like that. It's never been like that Gus." I put my hand down and walked over to join him behind his shop. "I hope you don't think that. It's never been anything personal. I just want to expand my business." I nodded towards the store. "And this is the most convenient location."
He leaned against his own car. "Ah, I know that, sweetheart. It's just hard."
I wanted to bring up his trip to Pottsville without letting on how much I knew. "You've been away then?" I nodded towards the rear of his ca
r, which was filled with luggage. "Was it a vacation?"
He let out a scoff. "Not exactly." He narrowed his eyes and shot me a sideways glance. "Actually, I was meeting up with someone who might be a little competition for you, if you really want to know."
"What do you mean? You were meeting with a baker?"
"No. Someone who might be interested in buying this joint." He nodded towards the shop. "And keep it in tact, not fill it with cakes and pastries."
Maureen Tatler. "Oh. So...what happened then?"
"Wouldn't you love to know?"
I would, actually.
Gus stood up straight. "You don't have to worry about her, sweetheart. Turns out she was only interested in buying one very specific item."
"Which item?" I asked quietly.
He shrugged. "Some painting of two little kids. But I told her, that painting ain't for sale."
My keys were already in the ignition and my car ready to pull out when a figure stepped in front of me, forcing me to slam on the brakes.
"You nearly gave me a heart attack!" I called out.
The guy, wearing army camouflage and a yellow hat, gave me a weary look before he continued walking like nothing had happened. I stared after him and watched him go through the back exit of Gus's Antiques.
I recognized him from somewhere, but it took me a moment or two to figure out where I had seen him before.
"Huh," I murmured. "That's strange. That's that guy that was there the morning of the wedding. The one who wanted to come in, that we turned away."
He never did come back the next day.
"Well," I said out loud, as I finally pulled out of the parking lot. "I guess we're going on a road trip."
Chapter 10
Finally, I had something to go off of. I could have kissed Gus, I was so grateful for the tidbit that he had accidentally let slip about Maureen Tatler. There had to be a reason she wanted that painting. And it had to be connected to the killings.
There was no time to waste now. Word about the two homicides had spread around all of Belldale and it felt like history was repeating itself as our customer numbers dwindled down to a small trickle. People didn't feel safe venturing down to our once safe and cozy little enclave. And I didn't blame them. That was why I had to restore our reputation quickly. We needed to put the killer behind bars.
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