by Linda West
“I don’t know.”
I opened the new double-sided café fridge to get another beer. I had been at the café day and night, overseeing all the construction, decorating, new menu item selection, and helping with the specials. I kept my own private stock back here in the café fridge because it was empty, and because I was pretty much in charge of the place until we opened officially. Then I would be the head night waitress, or, as I liked to refer to myself – night manager.
I noticed a couple trays of sandwiches in the fridge as well, which must have been the secret appetizer meant for the book club. Ethel was so sweet.
I peeked under the aluminum foil. Caprese sandwiches. Yummy.
With a little shuffle, I pulled out the top tray and Elle helped to arrange them on a pretty red and white flowered plate. Elle sampled one of the sandwiches that were cut in triangle shapes and a look of love melted over her face as she tilted back her head. “These are to die for!”
Oooh, how I now loathed that phrase. “That good, huh?”
She nodded emphatically and popped another into her mouth.
“Amazing. Man, those Landers can cook.”
She had it right there.
I picked one up and took a bite.
Gosh darn, it was incredible. How did they do it?
Elle munched away happily as I pushed a couple tables together near the fireplace where everyone in the club could sit.
“I think that Frankie guy might be sick or something.” Elle said after a moment. I stopped and turned to face her.
“Why would you say that?”
“The maid found a bunch of syringes in his garbage, and she reported it to me,” said Elle. “I asked Helena about it – obviously we can’t have illicit drugs in the suites, and she told me it was for his medicine.”
A glimpse of the syringe I saw in Frankie’s coat pocket came to mind. Maybe he had some illness – or maybe that was a lie his mother told to protect him.
“Anyway,” Elle continued, “they have all their bags packed in both their suites so it looks like they’re on their way out. They’ve run up quite the bill. I hope the rumors aren’t true.”
My head shot up. “What rumors?”
Elle nibbled on her sandwich delicately. “I heard that they are near penniless. All the pomp and circumstance is for show. That’s why they came. To get her inheritance back from Jackson.”
I sucked in my breath. So Jackson was right. They had come to Kissing Bridge needing money. If Frankie was sick, then maybe they needed that money desperately.
Perhaps desperate enough to kill.
I put the beautiful triangle cut tea sandwiches and some small bright yellow plates in the center of the wooden table. Then I started on the tea.
I took a big glass carafe and added ice. We already had brewed lemon tea in the back fridge. I added that and some heaping scoops of honey. I finished it all off with fresh sprigs of mint I took straight off the plant growing next to the cashier.
We were all prepared. I snapped a bottle cap off the picture of George Washington on the wall and it boomeranged into the lock mechanism on the front door of the bakery, switching it to open.
I was ready for our first book club.
CHAPTER 38
It was a small group of cozy book readers that turned up for the first official meeting.
Mostly we just planned to pick out the books we were going to read over the next three months so everyone could purchase them and get reading. Ethel and Summer were exhausted, so they had gone home to their husbands earlier that day. Dodie had to open the bakery in the early morning – so it was just me and Elle and the book club members. Oh, and Aphrodite of course.
I pulled her off my neck and warned her she was going home if she misbehaved. There were fifteen people in all, and we were all acquainted as Kissing Bridge locals usually are.
I was a bit disconcerted and surprised when Brice Stevens, the waiter from Six Pines, showed up. I wondered how he knew about a book club in Kissing Bridge. Maybe Summer had mentioned it. He seemed to have a super fan crush on her. Maybe he had hoped to see her again.
“Hey, Brice.” I greeted him warmly. Brice smiled. “I didn’t know you were a book lover.”
His warm eyes matched his smile. “Yeah, I love books! Thought I’d check it out.”
I wasn’t sure I was buying his story.
“So, what did the police have to say when you reported what you knew about the letter – and Mia? Because nothing has changed. Carol’s still in jail.
”
Brice rubbed his auburn hair and shuffled his feet. “Yeah, I’m sorry I haven’t had a chance to go by and give my report yet. I’ve been working every day until tonight.”
But you still had time to go to a book club in a city not even close to you? I thought. Hmmm.
“Is Summer going to be here tonight?” said Brice.
I shook my head. “Gee, no, sorry. She’s home in bed. Her condition, you know.”
He nodded, though obviously disappointed. “Sure, she’s got to take care of herself.”
He went over and joined the others that had already taken a seat at the table. I looked over at Brice Stevens, the stranger, amongst all these people I knew well. Was I putting them in danger? Who knew if he was somehow involved in this murder. Why hadn’t he come forth sooner with news about the letter to Carol that might have helped solve the case? For all I knew, he and Mia were involved in this together. They were both from Six Pines.
And he had the body type I was looking for.
Other than Brice, whom I still hadn’t decided was safe, I liked the mix of young and old in the group. Everyone ooohed at having a snack, and we all munched the sandwiches between conversation. Aphrodite curled up in the middle of the long wooden table we were all seated at; she let everyone take turns petting her like she was royalty. Which, unofficially, she is.
After some more noshing and debate, we decided on one murder mystery – how apropos – one romance book, and one thriller for our lineup. We’d gone through two rounds of sweet tea and three plates of sandwiches when things got a little strange.
Chuck Darling, a young local electrician, started talking about how he had purposely lied to his dad about getting a scholarship to MIT because he didn’t want to leave his hometown.
Dolly Madison Adams, the local realtor/elf who owned the store down at the corner, patted Chuck’s hand to comfort him, then broke out in tears herself saying how she had forgotten to go to confession at St. Marks’ last week. To add to these odd disclosures, Elle suddenly confessed, “I took Lightning out yesterday, and I know Dayton wouldn’t approve, so I fibbed to him and told him I took Sunshine instead.” The group murmured their understanding.
Lightning was an ex racehorse that everyone knew was crazy. Dolly soothed her now that she had stopped crying herself. “Well, you didn’t want to upset your husband – it’s understandable.” The book crowd nodded, supported, and concurred as one.
I had no idea that this book club would be such a loving, supporting, and giving group! I knew a book club would be a fun way to share and enjoy reading together, but the camaraderie I was feeling and the deep connection going on was something I never counted on! It was like free group therapy.
As I nibbled on my sandwich, I felt the love and safety of my new book comrades with every delicious bite.
“My boyfriend fake married me,” I suddenly inappropriately blurted out between bites. The book club members all stopped talking and looked at me at once.
I suddenly regretted my intimate personal detail blab. Amanda Sweeting, the local librarian, five foot tall, 250lbs with a dark black bob and bright hazel eyes, waved off my concern from over-sharing.
“We all heard, honey.”
At my confused look, the entire book club burst out in unison variations of, “Your dad told me at the pub.”
Everyone laughed at themselves for saying things in synchronicity, and also for having had the exact same conversatio
n with my father.
I wasn’t laughing. Really, Dad?
Oh, well. At least I didn’t have to worry about the news of my fake marriage getting around. It already had.
I saw Brice happily chewing on a sandwich and not for the first time that night I wondered what he was really doing here at our book club, and what the heck was under his shirt? I had already surreptitiously examined all his outer extremities that were exposed and not seen one suspicious mark. Those extremities were very nice, I might add. But I really wanted to see his chest. I needed to see if Brice had any wounds or a bruise from my bottle cap bullet. And I was suddenly feeling very unfiltered – even for me.
“Hey Brice,” I called across the table. “I’d love it if you took your shirt off.”
Brice’s face brightened as the table turned to look at him. He pointed to himself. “You want me to take my shirt off –?” He stammered. “N-Now?”
I nodded emphatically. “You have no idea how much.”
He looked around the table. Amanda raised her eyebrow at me.
“Well, I never tried that technique,” she said. “Do you spank him later?”
“Spank? No!” I shook my head. I needed to see that body for altruistic reasons only.
“I really want to check out your body, Brice, I mean it,” I continued truthfully.
Echoes of, “Me too! Me too!” rose up from around the table.
Brice smiled. “I like you Kissing Bridge book readers, you’re a wild lot. I always wanted to try this.”
With that, Brice leapt onto the center of the table and commenced with a simulated strip tease dance by slowly removing his shirt and waving it above his head. He then pulled it in and out between his outstretched legs.
Dolly pulled out some singles.
The book club was loving it, but all the dancing was making it harder for me to see if I could spot my bottle cap mark on his body.
At about ten o'clock, Maxine slipped in the back door of the kitchen and snuck up on me as I was pleading with Brice to put his shirt back on again. I had thoroughly examined him, along with everyone else, and I had seen not a mark or fleck on his perfect physique.
I jumped in the air when Maxine whispered in my ear, “I would have closed up earlier if I knew the book club was going to be so interesting.”
“Hey – oh, Maxine! How's it going, Max?” I hugged her. Tonight she was dressed in a long, full-length gold sequin coat à la Elton John with a pink furry boa around her neck. She had topped off this outfit with a powder pink wig and long fake eyelashes that had sparkles at the tips. She had promised to stop by for the first meeting, and I couldn't help but be relieved to see her. Maxine was a good egg. Strange dresser, but down to Earth person.
“Heard you been going through some hard things around here with Carol being accused of all that nonsense?” said Maxine. The book club members still whistled and clapped at Brice.
I nodded. I hadn’t gotten any time to catch up with Maxine since the murder; it was comforting to be talking to her. “Yeah, it totally stinks.”
“Hang in there, darling.” She hugged me again tighter.
“I'm so glad you came to the meeting, Maxi. Come sit down and have a treat. We…”
“Well actually, darling, I just came by to warn you.”
My eyes went wide. Uh oh…
Maxine took my hand and pulled me out of the back door. She pointed down the alley between our shops and towards the Henderson’s’ Wine and Cheese store, Wino’s, across the street.
“I've been watching Jackson Jennings’ sister, Helena – I think it is –from my door. She’s been over at the wine and cheese shop quite a while. She's gone through every wine sample they have and the last of the Henderson’s goodwill. I saw they were trying to close up, but she didn't seem to be in a good way. She was ranting about some box… Anyway, I locked up for the night quick and just wanted to let you know. I last saw her hobbling this way in her pearls and Chanel.”
My violet eyes widened like a cat in the dark. Helena? What was she doing here on Main Street? It’s not far from the lodge, but it was a heavy, stormy night. I had been relieved to see so many people make it to the first book club meeting – but they were sturdy Kissing Bridge locals and used to bad weather.
I wondered where her Harvard clone unsociable son was.
Maxine kissed me on the cheek and grabbed one of the triangular sandwiches from the plate I still held in my hand and hadn’t served.
“Gotta go, I’ve got a date. Good luck.”
“You too,” I said.
She winked as she slipped out the back door.
I wasn’t sure I could deal with any more sleuthing tonight, but it looked like I didn’t have a choice. I spotted Helena’s dizzy head poking in the front door, waving a wine bottle in her hand.
“Got an opener?” she yelled across the bakery.
CHAPTER 39
The wind whipped in a big blast of snow through the open front door and sent a chill through the room. Aphrodite meowed her irritation at having her comfort level altered.
I got up to shut the door behind Helena and went to retrieve a wine opener before she yelled again.
The now sedate group of book lovers stopped chatting amongst themselves and looked up at the newcomer.
Helena wasn't just tipsy. Helena was trashed.
I was thinking she must've had some bottle of something hard in her bag, because no amount of wine could do that to a person. I crossed the room quickly to help her to a seat, because she almost fell straight on her face, and I'm pretty sure that would've been a really nasty lawsuit that the Landers wouldn’t have appreciated.
I guided Helena to a counter chair, and she pretty much collapsed onto it. I gave the club table the silent I don't know what's up sign with my shoulders, then grabbed some of the teacakes from the platter and brought them over to the drunk in the chair. One thing I’ve learned in life is that if somebody's drunk – feed them.
So I offered Helena some food.
Helena looked at the tea sandwiches and then motioned for me to open the wine for her with the wine opener as if I was her personal servant.
I popped it and went to look for a glass, but she had already tipped it back and was drinking straight from the bottle before I located one. So much for elegance when you’re already trashed.
It was getting late and the book club group was starting to file out.
Helena continued to drink, ranting like a madwoman under her breath as the book club members shouldered past her, trying not to stare. She nibbled on a sandwich and nodded her approval. I was looking forward to getting some answers out of Helena, especially now that she had some alcoholic truth serum going for her.
I also wondered if I should phone Jaime and let him know she was here. I didn’t trust anyone these days, and she was in a rare state. Could she have been like this and killed her brother in a drunken rage? I was happy to see Brice leaving alongside Dolly, chatting about some place in Borneo he hoped to go to. He stopped on the way out.
“Hey, I forgot to mention this to you. I don’t know if it matters, but that girl who handed me the letter the other night – before she came over to me, I saw her talking to some guy by the back door.”
I stepped closer. “What kind of guy? Did you recognize him?”
Brice shook his head. “No, I didn’t see his face, just the back of him. But he was wearing all black – black hat too. I don’t know if that’s helpful, but I just remembered.”
Helpful? He had no idea.
I thanked him and hugged Dolly goodbye.
So – a man in black handed Mia the letter. That was very interesting indeed! For now, Brice was off my list.
I followed the last of the book crowd to the front door and waved goodbye. “See you all next month!” I turned back to my unwanted intruder.
Helena looked really upset. Her eyes were red and puffy. I guessed she’d been crying. I was happy to see her take another big bite of the caprese sandwi
ch because she sure needed to sober up.
She shook her head oddly, as if she didn’t know which way to shake it.
“Can you believe it? Can you really believe it?” She ranted on and on after I closed the door.
Actually, after what I'd been through in the last few days, I could just about believe anything. In this case, I had no idea what she was talking about.
“Believe what?” I said.
“He left it all to her! He left all our family money to a lying, scheming child out of spite.”
“Excuse me?” I said.