"Song?" I asked.
My grandmother nodded. "Yes, the one the girl named Tammy sang many years ago. You know. Stand On Your Man."
Despite the seriousness of the situation, I had to choke back a laugh. "Grandma, it's called Stand by Your Man."
She nodded in approval. "That is good, too."
"I love you so much," I whispered into her hair.
"And I love you, sweetheart. Remember what I said. No matter what he says, do not let him go. He needs you as much as you need him. Maybe more. Never forget."
* * *
"Mike?" I called out as I walked through the tiny living room. No response. Spike came bounding out of the bedroom, wagging his tail in welcome. I reached down to pet him. "Hi, fella. Where's Daddy?"
He turned and tottered back toward the bedroom, and I followed, my heart pounding away inside my chest. I peeked around the corner. Mike was lying on the bed, fully clothed, hands behind his head. He was staring at the ceiling.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
He kept staring at the ceiling. "I told you not to come here."
I shivered. Mike's tone was colder than the temperature outside. His voice was low and not especially friendly. I walked over to the bed and sat down at his side. He kept staring at the ceiling.
I bit into my lower lip. "Would you please look at me?"
Mike swiveled his head in my direction, and I was taken aback by his expression. His mouth was hard and sullen, and the beautiful blue eyes I adored blazed with anger. I reached out to touch him, but he yanked his arm away.
My voice trembled. "Why are you acting like this?"
His eyes bore into mine. "You should have let me rot in there. I didn't want you asking your grandmother for money. I'm not a charity case, Sal!" He leaped to his feet and walked over to the window where he stared out into the night, hands perched on his hips.
Ugh. The pride thing again. My grandmother had hit the nail right on the head. I walked up behind him and put my arms around his waist. "I should have asked first. I'm sorry. But I knew you didn't belong there."
Mike was quiet for a few seconds. "I've got about ten grand in the bank. I'll write your grandmother a check. She can cash it tomorrow. I'll get her the rest as soon as I can. I'll sell my house if I have to."
I clearly wasn't getting through to him. "She isn't worried about the money. She's worried about you. And so am I."
He shook my hands off angrily. "I'm a lost cause. Isn't that what your father's been telling you? You can level with me. I know Domenic's never been a fan of mine."
My heart constricted inside my chest. "You've got it all wrong. My family knows you didn't do anything wrong. We're all on your side."
He was silent as he reached out to stroke my cheek with his fingers. "You deserve the best. And I just can't give it to you right now. I never could." Then he hesitated for a moment. "Don't you want to ask?"
I shook my head vehemently. "There's no need. I already have my answer."
Mike moved past me and strode out into the kitchen where he removed a beer from the fridge and took a long sip. "What would you do if I told you I did kill him?"
"Stop it." I grabbed the can out of his hand and threw it in the sink. "I know you didn't do it."
He folded his arms across his chest. "But I was there. At the hotel. You heard it yourself. I could have done it."
"Why did you go there? To threaten Colin and make sure he didn't come near me again?"
He didn't answer my question. Instead, he withdrew his cell phone from his jeans pocket and tossed it on the counter.
"What's going on?"
Mike pointed at the phone. "Go ahead and listen. Fifteen new messages since this morning. All job cancellations. Everything I had lined up for the next three months, including Embree." He forced a laugh out, but his tone was bitter and angry. "Good news always travels fast in this town."
"It'll blow over soon." I put my arms around his neck. "The truth will come out. And I'm making enough money right now. There's no need for you to worry. We—"
He gave me a surly look, and I wanted to bite my tongue off. I'd forgotten about the pride factor again. When would I learn to keep my mouth shut?
Mike blew out a sigh. "I love you, Sal, more than anything. But I'm no good for you. Years ago, when we first met, we had to deal with my drunken mother. I was embarrassed for you to see her like that. And now this. The demons don't go away for me. Please go home. I'm begging you."
I was dumbstruck for a moment. I had never known Mike to beg for anything in his entire life. The words bothered me to no end, but I stood my ground. "No. I'm not leaving you."
His shoulders sagged. "Fine. Stay. I don't care anymore." He turned and walked into the bedroom without a backward glance at me.
I thought about following him but decided to give him his space. A lump formed in my throat the size of a mountain. I thought of my grandmother's words again. No. I wouldn't give up on him no matter what he said. Unshed tears welled in my eyes.
"Sal?" Mike called out suddenly.
Hopeful, I walked into the bedroom. He was sitting on the edge of the bed. He looked up at me and forced a smile to his lips. "I haven't eaten since this morning, and I'm starving. Would you mind going out to grab me something?"
Relief washed over me. I bit into my lower lip to keep the tears from flowing again as I ran a finger across his lips. "Of course. What would you like?"
He got to his feet and put his arms around me. "I don't care. Anything sounds good at this point."
"Okay. I'll run over to Frank's and grab you a sandwich." Frank Taylor was Gianna's boyfriend. He owned a sub shop a couple of blocks away from the bakery.
"Do you need money?" he asked.
I shook my head. "I've got it covered."
"Okay." He smiled. "I think I'll take a shower while you're gone." He covered my mouth with his, and I responded ardently. When we finally broke apart, I was breathless.
Mike ran his fingers through my hair and kissed me on the forehead. "You mean the world to me. Don't ever forget that."
I whispered into his chest. "We'll get through this together. You'll see."
Feeling more hopeful than before, I grabbed my purse and coat from the living room and drove off into the night. Frank wasn't working, for which I was slightly relieved. I wasn't in the mood to chat about the arrest with anyone. I ordered Mike his favorite—roast beef with Russian dressing.
When I pulled into the driveway, I noticed Mike's truck was gone. Self-doubt quickly crept into my mind, and I tried to force it away. No big deal. Maybe he drove over to the corner store. He probably wanted a newspaper. No, wait. That was his last beer I threw out. I bet he went to grab a six-pack.
But deep down inside, I already knew.
I unlocked the front door and put the sandwich on the small dining room table. I walked down the hallway and turned into Mike's bedroom. On his nightstand sat a piece of paper propped up by the alarm clock. Next to it was a check for ten thousand dollars made out to my grandmother.
My breath caught in my throat as I grabbed the paper between my hands and read the message he'd printed in slanted letters.
Sal,
I'm sorry for everything. I love you and won't drag you down in this mess with me. I can't prove I didn't do this. I hope someday you'll forgive me.
P.S. Please take care of Spike for me.
It was simply signed, M.
I crumpled the note between my hands and sank to the floor. No. This couldn't be happening. In a span of twenty-four hours my life had gone from happy to horrific. My ex-husband was dead. If the police found Mike, he would probably stand trial for Colin's murder. I didn't know all the details but was pretty sure Mike would be in even more trouble if they'd discovered he'd left town. I had never felt so alone in my entire life. I covered my head with my arms and prayed for strength.
Something nudged my arm. I looked up to see Spike sitting there, wagging his tail at me expectantly. His beady, black
eyes were full of hope as he leaned forward to lick my face. I picked him up in my arms and buried my face into his soft fur.
Then the tears came.
CHAPTER FIVE
"You look like hell." Josie handed me a cup of coffee. "Did you get any sleep last night?"
I shook my head and took a sip of the steaming, hot liquid. It had been a long night of tossing and turning. I'd called Mike's cell at least twenty times, but it always went directly to voice mail. I'd texted him as well. I love you. Come home. We'll get through this. Still no response. It was as if someone had sucker punched me in the stomach, and I was still waiting to catch my breath.
I placed the coffee mug by the sink and grabbed some oven mitts to take a tray of Josie's coconut macaroons out of the oven. "You shouldn't even be here—it's your birthday. I thought Rob and the kids were going to make you breakfast."
She waved her hand impatiently. "Rob and I went to the movies last night. We'll celebrate next weekend. I wish you would have called and told me what had happened instead of my having to hear it from Gianna."
I transferred the cookies to a cooling rack. "She shouldn't have phoned you."
Josie tied an apron on. "Of course she should have. She knew you wouldn't do it yourself because you didn't want to ruin my plans."
I positioned my hands on the edge of the block table and blew out a long breath. "I need to get through this by myself."
She grabbed me by the arm and forced me to look at her. Her blue eyes swam with tears. "You're my best friend. And you're not alone. A lot of people happen to love you, including me. All we want is to help."
My lower lip trembled as I hugged her and then quickly pulled away. "I can't give in to this now. I need to keep busy and keep my mind off—him." It hurt to even say his name.
"What about the contest?" Josie looked at me anxiously. "Do you want to back out?"
"No, I think we should still go. Maybe it'll be good for me to have a change of scenery for a couple of days."
"Have you heard anything about the funeral?" Josie scooped out rounded tablespoons of dough for sugar cookies and placed them on a tray.
"Colin's sister, Krista, left me a message earlier. She said the wake is tomorrow night, and the funeral is Wednesday morning. I'll have to let her know I can't make the funeral since our plane leaves early that day."
Josie pursed her lips. "How do you think that'll go over with Colin's mother?"
"I guess I'll find out tomorrow night." The worried look on my friend's face mirrored my own. "I don't want to go."
She placed a comforting arm around my shoulders. "You don't have to. You're not married to him anymore. Plus, he treated you like crap."
I shook my head. "I have to go. Krista asked me especially to be there. She said their mother is having a really tough time. She still refers to me as her daughter-in-law. It's like she tries to pretend the divorce never happened."
The bells over the door tinkled, and Josie glanced at her watch. "That must be Mitzi. I asked her to come in an hour before we opened so that I could show her around." She patted my arm. "Come on. We've finally got some extra help today. You should go upstairs and take a nap."
"No. I wouldn't be able to sleep anyway." I wiped my hands on a dish towel. "You go ahead and get her started. I'll grab the tax forms and meet you out front in a second."
Josie walked into the storefront to greet Mitzi while I opened the drawer of the block table and grabbed the forms I had printed off my computer for her to fill out. I still wasn't sure about this. There was something about the girl that bothered me. Oh, forget it, Sal. You're not going to make sense out of anything today. We can always let her go if things don't work out.
I felt a twinge of remorse as I remembered the phone call I'd made to Sarah on Saturday, explaining we couldn't offer her the job. Her voice had cracked on the other end of the line as she'd told me she understood and wished us the best of luck with the bakery. I'd felt lower than pond scum as I'd thanked her and quickly disconnected the call. Another cloud that was currently hanging over my head.
Josie and Mitzi were standing by the window talking about different recipes. Mitzi stared at me in shock. "Oh wow, Sally, I didn't expect you'd be here."
I smiled politely. "I'm pretty much always here. It is my shop."
Her face reddened. "Er, I meant with your boyfriend being arrested for murder the other night and all that."
I exchanged glances with Josie. Good grief, why did everyone in this town have to know all the dirt about everyone? I counted to ten before I answered. "That's a personal subject I really don't want to discuss right now."
Mitzi's mouth fell open. "Oh, of course. I wasn't trying to pry. I mean—I'm sure he had his reasons and all."
"He didn't do anything," I snapped. Horrified at my behavior, I clamped a hand to my mouth. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bite your head off. Please excuse me for a moment."
I went into the back room and grabbed the sides of the table again, taking several deep, cleansing breaths. Get it together, Sal. Don't lose it.
Someone touched my arm, and I looked up to see Josie watching me with a worried expression. "Sal, I can handle things today. You should go rest."
"I'll be okay. Honest."
Josie looked doubtful. "Fine. I'm going to bring Mitzi back here and show her around. Is that okay with you?"
I nodded without another word and turned to take cookies out of the oven. Josie and Mitzi reappeared, and the girl was giggling away, saying something about how she loved the smell of sugar cookies.
Josie handed her an apron. "Your hair is pretty short, but we'll still need you to wear a hat or a hair net. Whatever you're most comfortable with." She motioned to the pink ball caps that were hanging on the wall next to Josie's and my coats. Sally's Samples was written on them in black cursive lettering.
"Aren't these cute," Mitzi squealed as she donned a cap. "So what will my hours be?"
"They'll fluctuate for a couple of weeks," Josie said. "I know this is short notice, but Sal and I are going out of town on Wednesday until late Friday." Her face shone with pride. "We're contestants on Cookie Crusades."
Mitzi giggled. "I heard. Congratulations!"
Josie and I looked at each other, confused.
"How did you find out?" I asked. "We haven't made it public knowledge yet."
Mitzi blushed. "Well, I happened to see the announcement on their website. I guess I'm a bit of a stalker where that show is concerned. I want to be on it so bad." She turned pleading eyes on us.
I winced. Had Mitzi taken the job because she'd hoped we'd take her along? That was so not happening.
"Um, okay," Josie said. "So getting back to the tasks at hand—"
"Have you guys decided what you're going to make for the show?"
Josie started to say something, but I interrupted. "Um, not yet. We're still working out the details." Mitzi reminded me of a bloodhound sniffing around for valuable information. Perhaps I was overreacting. Maybe the real problem was with me. Was I too suspicious of everyone now? I'd had some trust issues in the past—especially with Colin—and now there was this whole thing with Mike, just when I thought I'd finally healed.
The fact remained that this girl was failing to win me over. I hoped I was wrong about her. We needed someone we could depend on for the coming week, and I hated to bother Gianna at such a crucial time. I also disliked the thought of closing the store down for three entire days.
"We'll need you to assist with the care of the shop while we're gone," I said. "I'm going to see if my grandmother will take charge. We'll shorten the hours each day, so that should help, too. Do you think you'll be up to the task?"
Mitzi grinned. "Bring it on. That sounds super fun."
I appreciated her enthusiasm, but given my lack of sleep and that nagging prickle of doubt, she was starting to get on my last nerve. I turned to Josie. "Why don't you work out front with Mitzi today after she fills out her paperwork? I think I'll stay in the bac
k room, bake some cookies, and order supplies."
Josie winked but said nothing. She understood I wanted to be alone.
Despite the below-zero temperatures, we were busy all day. We had scaled back our hours on Mondays and Tuesdays and were now closing at six instead of seven. I couldn't help but remember what I had been doing a week ago at this time. Mike and I had gone out to dinner and then back to his house. We'd watched a movie and fallen asleep in each other's arms on the couch. A tear rolled down my check before I could stop it. I dried my eyes quickly and tried to concentrate on tallying up sales for the day.
Mitzi washed dishes in the back room while Josie sorted through some recipes at the table next to me in the storefront. "What do you think, Sal? How about the coconut macaroons for Round Two of Cookie Crusades?"
I nodded without looking up. "Sounds good."
She cleared her throat. "We have to pick two cookies for that round. And remember, during the third round, they can throw anything at us."
"The macaroons will be great," I said. "I think I left the recipe on the shelf next to the flour this morning. I was going to make some more but ran out of time. Besides, mine don't come out as well as yours."
Josie waved her hand dismissively. "I don't need the recipe. I could make those in my sleep." She made some notes on a memo pad. "We'll probably need one suitcase alone for all of our spices. They only provide basic ingredients. You know—flour, sugar. That kind of stuff."
"Yes, I looked at the guidelines before I emailed the contract back." I glanced at my watch. "I know it's ten minutes early, but I'm going to go ahead and lock the door. And I forgot to grab the paper earlier."
"Do you think Colin's obit is in there? What time is the service?"
I shook my head. "The service is from four to seven. And I don't think it'll be in till tomorrow. I'll check though."
I shivered as I grabbed the paper off the front porch, and a gust of cold air blew right through my thin T-shirt. The roads were clear, and it hadn't snowed today so all in all, a good day for the Buffalo region in the middle of winter.
I scurried back inside and shut the door firmly behind me, making sure to change the sign to Closed. Yes, a couple of days in Florida sounded very good right now. If only I knew where Mike had gone and that he was safe. I continued to feel like someone had dropped a giant boulder on my chest, and I could no longer draw a deep breath.
Baked to Death (Cookies & Chance Mysteries Book 2) Page 6