Laina Turner - The Trixie Pristine Boxed Set

by Laina Turner

  “Normally, I wouldn’t care who that slimeball is talking to, but I don’t recognize that man, and that makes me wonder what George is up to.”

  “Berklie, I realize you know most people in town, but did you consider there might be a couple folks you don’t know? Or that maybe you should mind your own business? Not jump to conclusions over someone you don’t know.”

  “Shush. He’s not from here. Look at him,” she said, ignoring me.

  She had a point. The man George was talking to had a George Hamilton tan and dressed in what I could tell from here was an expensive suit. Not that people here didn’t wear expensive clothes, but not usually clothes that looked like this. The men finished their conversation, and the man walked over and got into a big ass black Mercedes.

  “Look at that license plate. California. See!” she said proudly. “I told you he wasn’t from around here.”

  I didn’t feel like pointing out that the car could be a rental or something else logical, because I had to admit she was probably right, and it clearly was going to do no good to argue with her. Though driving here from California seemed a long way, when a plane was much faster.

  “Okay. So the guy is from out of town. Why is that a big deal?” I still didn’t understand where she was going with this.

  “C’mon, Trix. You know ninety percent of everything George is involved in is dirty. Meeting in a parking lot with someone who isn’t from around here. It has scam written all over it.”

  “Berklie, I know you don’t like him, with good reason, but you can’t be suspicious of every little thing. Now forget about it, and let’s get the pastries.”

  “Trixie! Berklie!” I heard someone call. Looking over, I saw it was Avery running through the parking lot to catch up with us. We all walked into the bakery, and Berklie said she would see if our order was ready and get us coffee and fritters. Avery and I sat down at one of the four tables.

  “Avery, you look exhausted,” I said. “How are you feeling?”

  She ran her fingers through her short blonde hair. “I haven’t been able to sleep. Until Clive tells me they didn’t find poison at my place and I can reopen, I am just an anxious stress ball. I can’t stop running all the negative scenarios through my head. I mean, what if he does find poison? I’m doomed!”

  “Did he give you a time frame?”

  “He said by the end of today or tomorrow. What if I open back up and no one comes to buy cupcakes anymore? I know you said to be positive, but I can’t help obsessing.”

  “Avery, you’re worrying too much. We haven’t had anyone not want our pastries, and he died in our place. People will soon forget all about it. Even if it’s not forgotten, people won’t blame you.”

  “I hope not,” she said as Berklie came back to the table. “I just want this nightmare to be over.”

  “They’re boxing our stuff up as we speak, and I brought coffee and fritters all around. Have one, Avery. It will make you feel better.”

  I grabbed one of the fritters out of Berklie’s hand and bit into it. “Ummm, it’s even warm.”

  “Of course it is. I know how you like it. How you holding up, Avery?”

  “I was just telling Trixie here, it’s stressful not knowing if people are going to come back once I’m cleared of any wrongdoing. And what if, God forbid, Clive does find something? What if whoever did this snuck into my shop to try and frame me?”

  “Clive won’t. Just have faith. You know you didn’t do anything wrong, and he will prove that.”

  Avery looked down at her watch. “Oh, crap. I didn’t realize how late it was. I need to go pick up Jeff. I dropped him at the dentist while I went to run errands. He’s probably wondering where I went by now.”

  “Call us as soon as you hear something from Clive.”

  “I will.”

  “Berklie, your order is ready,” called Helen at the counter.

  “We’d better get back, too,” I said, finishing the last bite of fritter. “Make sure Sophie isn’t alone too long and our customers aren’t freaking out over the lack of pastries.”

  Chapter 8

  Jonathan said he will give us the money to pay Stephen and get rid of him,” Sophie said to us while we were hanging out at my house later that evening, enjoying our weekly Wednesday wine and whine night—or WWW as we liked to call it. We were at my house tonight since I had Cody and Berklie’s daughters were with her ex-husband Tom.

  “He has that kind of money?” Berklie asked.

  “I guess. He’s a good businessman. He’s really turned the motorcycle shop around from when his dad had it, and he lives simply. He laughs at my shopping habit. Tells me I should put my money in stocks not shoes.”

  “He was always good in school, Berklie. Remember how he would purposely miss questions in math because he didn’t want to be labeled as the smart one?” I said. He didn’t want his friends to know how smart he was.

  “True. I was his lab partner in Chemistry and always cheated off his homework.”

  “We can’t take his money, though it was nice of him to offer. Plus, you heard Clive, paying a person like this doesn’t usually work. They always come back for more,” I said. “But please give him a big thank you hug and kiss from us.”

  Sophie smiled. “He first offered to find him and beat the shit out of him, but then he offered money when I told him you guys probably wouldn’t go for that.”

  I started laughing. “Now that’s more like the Jonathan I know and love. Kick ass! And I wouldn’t mind, except I wouldn’t want to get Jonathan in trouble.”

  “That’s an offer we should take him up on, Trixie,” Berklie said to me. “I’m sure he could do it and not get caught.

  “He’s more than willing,” Sophie said. “But seriously, what are we going to do about this?. We can’t live with the possibility of Stephen popping in on us at any moment. He seems determined to get something we don’t have, and it seems that he will go to any lengths to get it.”

  “I agree with you. I’m worried. Every time the phone rings I wonder if it’s him, and I half expect him to show up somewhere after that incident at Baxters. I shudder to think of it.”

  “That’s his game. Just like Clive said. To get in our heads so we drive ourselves crazy,” added Berklie.

  Just then, my cell phone rang. We all looked at each other each, thinking it must be him. I picked it up and looked at the display. Blocked call. Just like the other night when I had gone ahead and answered and it was him.

  “Are you going to answer it?” Berklie asked.

  “Should I?”

  “Absolutely. You don’t answer the phone, he will think you’re scared, and he wins. Answer it, and at least pretend you’re not afraid,” said Sophie. “Show him we can’t be intimidated.”

  “Hello?” I said trying to act normal. After all, there was a chance it might not be him, though who else who would call me this late and blocked at that?

  “I hope you ladies are enjoying your evening and hopefully you are discussing how you are going to give me my money back,” he said in a hard tone.

  “It’s him,” I mouthed to them.

  “I already told you that’s not going to happen. Now quit calling me!” I slammed the phone down.

  “You’re pale. What did he say?” asked Berklie.

  “He knew we were all here.”

  “How in the hell would he know that?” Sophie asked.

  “He must be watching us and saw the cars,” I said.

  “That’s freaking me out,” said Berklie.

  I dialed Clive’s number to tell him Stephen had just called and then grabbed my wine glass to take another drink.

  “What did Clive say?” Berklie asked.

  “That he would see if he could find where the call was coming from, and for us not to leave until he called back. He’s sending a patrol car over to drive by.”

  “There’s a lot going on in this little town right now,” Berklie said. “Let’s take our minds off Stephen and tal
k about George.”

  “Oh, Berklie, you’ve got to let that go.”

  “George who? The mayor George?” Sophie asked.

  “Yes, that George,” replied Berklie. “I talked to Berklie’s ex Tom, who isn’t a George fan either, but they’re on a couple city planning committees together, and he gave me the scoop on who that guy was.”

  “Why are we talking about George?” Sophie asked. “I must be missing something here.”

  “Berklie saw George talking to some guy who isn’t from here, or at least she doesn’t recognize him, and she is now convinced he is up to no good. She’s being ridiculous, inventing problems where they probably don’t exist just because she doesn’t like him,” I said.

  “I know you think I am blowing this out of proportion,” Berklie said, “but listen to who this guy is. His name is Lewis Slydell and supposedly he’s a developer from California. He wants to invest in building some type of open air shopping complex.”

  “What’s the problem with that?” Sophie asked. “Wouldn’t that be good for the town?”

  “It would be if that were actually true.”

  “I don’t follow. Why wouldn’t it be true?” I asked.

  “The land he is supposedly looking at is that parcel out past the Hillsdale farm on 131st and State Road 151.”

  “That’s been for sale forever. Again, why wouldn’t it be a good thing for someone to buy it? It seems a little out there for a shopping center, but I’m not a land developer, so maybe it is,” Sophie said.

  “I don’t know about all that either, but what I do know is that land can’t be developed. Not for thirty more years. So no way someone would buy that to build something on, and it’s not a good investment property because it can’t be developed either, that’s why it’s sat there for so long.”

  “Berklie what are you talking about?”

  “Ten years or so ago when the property was first up for sale, someone put in an offer and was having some soil testing done for some reason. I’m not sure why, and it’s not important. Anyway, they found the ground was saturated with some sort of hazardous chemical, and it will take until thirty years from now for the ground to be safe again, or something like that. All I know is that land can’t be built on, so for someone to say they are buying it to open a mall…it’s a lie. He has some other motive. Or George does. There is something going on, and that proves it.”

  “This is what Tom told you? About the land I mean,” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Does Tom think there is something fishy going on between George and this Lewis guy?”

  “He said it did sound odd when George first brought it in front of the property committee, but he didn’t think much about it. The town owns that land and was just happy to sell it. Typical of Tom, oblivious.”

  “But really, Berklie, what could be the secret motive behind this? It’s just unusable land?” Sophie asked.

  “In this economy no one is going to buy land that they can’t use, and that doesn’t contain whatever land needs to be straight investment. According to Tom, even if that land didn’t have the chemical issues, it was never worth much anyways.”

  “I still don’t see your point,” I said.

  “I’m trying to get to that, if you guys would stop interrupting. There has to be a reason the mayor is working a deal with this guy for this useless land. This Lewis fellow must be getting something else from George that is valuable and he’s buying this land as a cover. And I’m sure whatever that is isn’t on the up-and-up.”

  “That does make a little sense, Trixie,” Sophie said.

  I thought about it for a few minutes. While Berklie was always thinking George’s actions were suspicious, she was usually right, and this did sound plausible. “I guess it does seem fishy, but what can we do about it? Don’t we have enough to deal with right now without worrying about this?”

  “I know, I know. I just hate to see him once again get away with something slimy.”

  Chapter 9

  You busy?” I popped my head in the back office where Sophie was intently studying something on her screen. She looked up.

  “No. Just updating my Comic Sans website. I took some great pictures the other day, and I want to get them posted. People comment on this thing all the time. I almost wish it wasn’t anonymous.”

  Sophie was a graphic designer who loved Comic Sans font, although it was never a good choice to use professionally. Why I’m not sure, but then I wasn’t a designer. So she would take pictures of signs and things she would see around that were in Comic Sans, and she had a website she uploaded them to. She called it her virtual clipboard. She had gained quite a following of people who started posting their own Comic Sans pics. Like a private Pinterest.

  “Can you add these book selections to our website when you have time?” I said, setting down a stack of books someone had dropped off.

  “Sure,” she replied, taking the list from my hand. “I told Jonathan about the call last night, and he said we should really take him up on the offer to kick ass.”

  “I’m about ready to. The problem is we don’t know where Stephen is.”

  “I thought Clive was looking into that.”

  “He is. He said he called me this morning and should have some information this afternoon.”

  “Have you talked to Jack lately?”

  “Not for the last couple nights. I mean, things have been a little crazy here. But he hasn’t called either. It’s going to be like I thought. Just kind of dwindle away. Long distance relationships rarely work. It’s just too hard.”

  “I’m sorry, Trixie.”

  “Don’t be. I’m living through your happiness right now. I’ll be up front for a while longer, until Berklie comes in, if you need me.”

  “Okay.”

  I walked back up to the front, happy to see customers milling around. We did have our fair share of browsers just because they happened to be in the area, but we were fine with that. Our thought was at least they came in the door, and if they had a good time, might come back and try something. And they often bought a cup of coffee, and every little bit helped.

  The time flew by, and Berklie came in to relieve me, so I headed to see Clive. He hadn’t called me back yet, but I was hoping he had some news for me.

  “We were able to track where those cell calls came from that you say are Stephen,” Clive told me as I sat down in the chair across from him in his office.

  “Please tell me he’s in now Canada or something.”

  “Sorry, darling, but he’s a little closer than that. He’s about fifty miles away in Collins, or at least that’s where the cell signal from his last phone call came from. There is always the chance of him using a device to re-route the signal.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel good, Clive.”

  “Me either. I called the sheriff up there, and he’s going to check the hotels in the area. Remember, Stephen is wanted for questioning for the car bomb, so when we find him we have cause to haul him in.”

  “If you can find him. Clive, what if you don’t find him? What are we going to do?”

  “Don’t think that way. We will find him.”

  Chapter 10

  Trixie, it’s Katherine. I need you to stop by the shelter if you can. Phyllis says she has something for you and is adamant it can only be given directly to you. She seems quite worked up over it.”

  “Okay,” I said, holding the phone to my ear with my shoulder as I put the groceries in the back of my car. “Do you know why or what it is she has for me?”

  “She won’t say anything, just that she needs to see you right away.”

  “Okay. I’m in town, but I can stop by before I head home. See you in about twenty.”

  “You came!” said Phyllis jumping up to greet me when I finally made it to the shelter and walked into her room.

  “Of course I came. I told you I would be there for you. What’s going on? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. But this
letter with your name on it was in my mail box today,” she said, handing me a plain white envelope that had ‘For Trixie Pristine Only’ written in block letters on the front.

  What could this be? “You don’t know how this got in your box?”

  “No. I had one other piece of mail and this. I told Katherine to call you because I didn’t feel I should open it. Why would someone put something for you in my mailbox?”

  “I don’t know, but you did the right thing, Phyllis.” I turned the letter over in my hand, examining it and wondering what it was.

  “Are you going to open it? I mean, you don’t have to if it’s private. I can go down to the common area if you want to read it alone.”

  “You don’t need to do that. I don’t know what it is, but I’m sure it’s nothing I need to open in private,” I said, not really sure of that at all. I tore the end off neatly like my grandmother had taught me and slid out the sheet of paper that was inside. I unfolded the paper.

  I told you I wanted my money back. I suggest you find a way to make this happen. You have 72 hours. S

  My hands started shaking as I stared at the letter.

  Phyllis looked at me, worried. “Are you okay, Trixie? Should I get Katherine?”

  I didn’t want to put more stress on Phyllis by filling her in on my drama, though I was now worried for her safety more than ever.