Cadaver at the Con

by Winnie Reed

“Oh, my gosh!” The curtain flew open to reveal a disheveled Georgia. “Emma! Oh, my gosh!”

  “It’s okay!” I laughed. “I’m fine. Just a sprain. I’m waiting to be released.”

  She ran shaking hands through her hair. “I went down hard, and when I woke up I heard you were already here! I can’t believe it!” She then burst into gusty tears, sobbing with both hands over her face.

  “It’s all right, dear.” Trixie put her arms around Georgia and guided her to a chair, shooting a look of confusion to Nell and me.

  “Georgia Steel,” I mouthed, and understanding washed over her face.

  “I had no idea she could do anything like that,” Georgia wept. “And all because of—”

  “It’s okay,” I murmured, cutting her off. “Really. What happened with Lawrence was an accident. What she did today was her choice. But you had nothing to do with it. You couldn’t have changed anything.”

  “If you’d been killed…” She lowered her hands, revealing a tear-stained mess of a face. “I’d never forgive myself.”

  “You wouldn’t have had to forgive yourself. Remember, this was all me. Just like Deidre made her choice, so did I. I could’ve walked away. Maybe I should learn to do that more often. And do not hold that over my head,” I warned my aunties, both of whose mouths snapped shut like they were about to do just that.

  “I’m so glad you’re okay.” She offered a weak smile. “I’m so glad.”

  “Me, too.” I winked. “Was it Brian who told you?”

  She nodded. “I’ve never seen him that way. Shaking from head to toe, breathless. He said she would’ve shot him and pretended they were fighting over the gun.”

  “Sounds about right,” I muttered, remembering those moments. My whole life had flashed before my eyes.

  “I wonder how many people will write about this sort of thing in their next book,” Trixie mused.

  “Just like a writer,” I grinned. “And no doubt, you’ll mention it in the Times. I’m sure everybody in Cape Hope will wanna hear about it.”

  “No, I don’t think I will.” She looked sincere when our eyes met, mine wide in surprise. “Not when you were involved. Your life isn’t fodder for my paper, sweetie.”

  It had to be the meds.

  Why else would I have burst into tears?

  “I’ll find the nurse,” she offered. “We have to get you out of here. And then we’re going to pack you up and one of us will take you home while the other drives your car. No arguments, young lady.”

  Just then, I was in no mood to offer any. I wanted to go home. I wanted my dog, my mom, my life.

  The life I could’ve lost.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “That’s it. Never again. You are never going to another event on your own again. Not without armed security.”

  This was maybe the third or fourth or fiftieth time Mom had said this in the thirty-six hours since Nell had driven me home. One she found a theme, she stuck with it.

  Meanwhile, I was just glad it was my left wrist that got sprained and not my right. I had cupcakes to frost. “I hate to tell you, but my editor’s not going to be happy to hear that. I don’t know if Haute Cuisine can afford to pay for an armed security guard every time I go out of town on assignment.”

  “I’ll have to talk to this editor, then.”

  “You’ll do no such thing.” I had to smile.

  She meant well.

  And I really did have a close call this time.

  “I love what I do,” I reminded her, heaping fluffy, white frosting on a chocolate cupcake. “I love working here for you, and I love writing for Haute Cuisine. I love my life. And I’m gonna live every minute of it. But that means having to be on my own when the situation calls for it. I’ll be more careful from now on.”

  “I doubt that,” she sniffed, tightening the clip holding her hair back before starting on a batch of scones.

  “I’ll do my best. How’s that sound?” I tossed a crumb to the floor, where Lola happily and greedily attacked it. It was so easy to love her. Especially when she didn’t give me grief about almost getting myself shot.

  It just so happened that I knew the perfect way to get my mother’s mind off my close call. “Deke’s coming to town soon. At least, he said he would when I spoke with him on Thursday.”

  Yep, that did it. A wide smile almost split her face in two. “Oh? And what does he plan on doing when he gets to town?”

  “Relaxing after working nonstop. This includes spending time together. But I don’t want to be clingy. Oh, please, don’t make me look clingy. I’m begging you.”

  “How would I ever do that?” she asked. The thing was, the innocent act wasn’t an act. She truly had no idea what I meant.

  “By inviting him over. By insisting he join us for dinner or that he help in the kitchen. By shooing us out the door together, ordering us to go sightseeing. I know you mean well, but I don’t want him to think I lured him here to trap him.”

  “I only want to see you happy with someone. Both of you, your sister, too.”

  “I know you do. It means a lot. But from an outsider’s perspective, it might be taken as something else. Especially with Deke’s family being so well-connected.”

  “They’re what, now?” Mom dropped her wooden spoon on the prep table while I cursed my loose tongue. Darn it, I didn’t want her to know that. I’d made a point of not telling her his last name.

  Lucky for me, the back door opened and Darcy breezed in.

  Lola jumped to her feet—paws, rather—and scrambled over to my sister.

  I laughed as the dog jumped around her, smiling her little doggie smile. “You two must’ve had a great time!”

  “I guess she just likes me.” Darcy crouched before her and accepted a face full of doggie kisses.

  “I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that you gave her almost all the t-words in her t-word bag and went out to buy more so it wouldn’t look like you did,” I said.

  Her face fell. “How’d you know?”

  “You dropped the receipt in her backpack.”

  “What on earth is a t-word?” Mom asked, looking back and forth.

  “T-r-e-a-t,” Darcy hissed. “And I couldn’t help myself. She gets so excited, it was like a little show we did for the customers.”

  “Why do you have to spell the word treat?” Mom asked.

  Darcy and I both groaned as Lola started running in circles, panting with excitement. “Good thing I always carry some on me.” I sighed, fishing one out of my pocket.

  “Anyway, how are you?” Darcy gave me an awkward hug.

  “Just fine. The bandage is a pain, but things could be worse. Yes, Mom, I know I only have myself to blame,” I added, shooting her a look.

  “I can’t help but be concerned,” she reminded me with a look of her own.

  “What about you?” I asked. “How’s gossip at the bookstore?”

  “I don’t care whether people complain or not.” Darcy pulled on a pair of latex gloves and started helping with the cupcakes. She worked much faster than I could just then. “I’m dumping my stock of Deidre Price books.”

  “Oh, but they always make money for you,” I winced.

  “I don’t care. Do you think I’d enjoy looking at her face on the back cover every time I ring up a copy? The woman who tried to kill my sister? No, thanks. Even if they’d probably fly off the shelves faster than ever, with your personal connection to her.”

  “I can’t say I enjoy the thought of being connected to that woman,” I shuddered. “And I’m not looking forward to the trial, that’s for sure. But it’s a way off yet. I’m trying not to think about it.”

  “And I’m trying to keep things quiet around the café,” Mom added.

  Darcy and I gave her a look that could only be labeled as disbelief.

  “What?” she asked, offended. “You think I can’t keep certain things to myself? My daughter might’ve been killed by that horrible woman. Trixie’s keeping it
out of the Times, and I refuse to foster any gossip about it at the café. I already reminded a few customers yesterday that I’d rather they talk about something else.”

  “Aw, Mom. Thank you.” I didn’t feel quite so concerned about gossip as I’d been before. Only the idea of sitting alone in my apartment with nothing but a hyper Maltese and my thoughts to keep me company had been enough to make me venture out.

  Nell was one of the first customers that morning, swinging by on her way to the library. I told her in a low voice what Darcy had decided to do with Deidre’s books. “Good for her,” she whispered with a firm nod. “I can tell you, that woman’s coming off my bookshelves at home.”

  “Some of them were written by Georgia,” I pointed out as I handed over a muffin.

  “Just the same. It’s her name on the cover. No great loss.”

  “Are you two talking about you-know-what?” Mom asked, shooting us a warning look while pouring coffee.

  “No, Mother dear,” I replied in a high-pitched voice. “We’re good girls.”

  “If you want to get people talking, that’s entirely up to you,” Mom shrugged. “You’re the one who’s always complaining about my stirring up gossip about people such as the well-off young man whose family situation you thought I’d forget about.”

  “What well-off young man?” Nell gaped. “Not the detective, surely, or else why would he—”

  “No, no. And I really don’t want to walk about it.” I gave Mom my most withering look and caught her snickering behind her hand.

  “I intend to find out all there is to know, young lady,” she warned.

  “My relationship with Deke, which isn’t a relationship at all, is off-limits.” I turned to the next customer in line as I spoke.

  Only to find myself face-to-face with Joe Sullivan.

  “Oh.” That was all I could say. Oh.

  “Hi.” His grin was slow, knowing. “How are you feeling?”

  “Detective!” Nell patted his shoulder with a smile that turned to a look of awe when he turned to face me again. She might’ve given it a squeeze, but I wasn’t sure.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked while fishing out a blueberry muffin for the next customer in Mom’s line.

  “I wanted to check on you, for one thing. It seems like you’re doing okay.”

  “I’ve been worse. But then, you know that.”

  “I do. And same here,” he added. “I’d love one of those muffins, too.”

  “Coming right up. Coffee?”

  “Sure.”

  I was glad for the opportunity to turn away. Dear Lord, why did these men keep turning up in my life at just the wrong moment?

  “You know, Detective,” Mom called out probably way louder than she needed to, “with all the visiting you do, you should buy a place down here.”

  I took a deep breath, my eyes sliding shut for a second. Give me strength.

  “I might have to take you up on that,” Joe chuckled. “To tell you the truth, I’m not here just to say hello. I decided to take a little time away from work.”

  “A vacation?” Mom asked as I turned back toward him.

  “More than a vacation.” It wasn’t a question as I placed the coffee on the counter for him to take. “Right?”

  “Right.” We exchanged a brief but meaningful look. He was taking time away because he had to get himself in order. His health was too precious to squander. “My CO understood once he spoke to the doctor.”

  “That’s good. I’m glad you’re taking this seriously.”

  “Oh, I am.” He stepped aside to let the next customer through. “In fact, I rented a room at one of the bed and breakfasts a few blocks down, if only to get out of Paradise City for a little while. I’ll be here this whole week.”

  This whole week.

  Which was when Deke was supposed to come to town, too.

  No sooner had this run through my head in giant, neon letters than he continued, “Maybe we could grab something to eat around here tonight. My treat.”

  At the mention of the word, a white ball of fur careened out of the kitchen and under the counter, only stopping for a second before she started spinning in joyful circles at Joe’s feet.

  He looked at me, mouth agape. “What did I say?” he asked, laughing.

  I was struck speechless. What, indeed.

  I hope you enjoyed Cadaver at the Con!

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  Copyright © 2019 by Winnie Reed

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