A Lime To Kill: A Key West Culinary Cozy - Book 1

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A Lime To Kill: A Key West Culinary Cozy - Book 1 Page 3

by Summer Prescott


  “You’re never grumpy,” Tiara observed, enjoying a bite of pie.

  “That’s only because you see me while I surrounded by beautiful things,” he glanced at Marilyn and the pie in the middle of the table, gazing hungrily at both.

  “Ugh, mom make him stop,” she put down her fork, rolling her eyes.

  “Really? Is that what you want?” Marilyn asked, blinking with mock-innocence. “Weren’t you the one who tried to make me a profile on one of those sites?”

  “Yes, but I didn’t want to have to watch the results—I just wanted to instigate them. Completely different,” she shuddered playfully. Tiara was in a much better mood today since she’d heard the news about her mother hiring Susan.

  Marilyn hadn’t heard a peep out of her daughter all night, and when she walked in this morning, she’d had a feeling it was going to be a quiet day between them, so the light-hearted banter that she was engaging in at the moment was encouraging.

  “Careful now, I haven’t threatened to sink Mr. Yoga’s boat, so you shouldn’t rain on my internet dating parade,” she teased.

  “That was incredibly random. Please refrain from picking at yesterday’s conversational threads,” Tiara warned lightly, no longer joking.

  “Whose boat?” Fergus asked sitting down and hoping for a healthy dose of gossip.

  “I meant it metaphorically…you know, to sink someone’s boat,” Marilyn floundered, never having been very good at prevarication.

  Tiara shot her mother a withering look.

  “What would you like today Fergus?” the young woman asked, clearly changing the subject. “You can see our lovely array of sweet treats ready to please your delicate palate.”

  “Wow, she’s good. You should give her a job,” he nudged Marilyn playfully.

  “As a matter of fact I already have. But I appreciate your reaffirming my decision,” she said dryly.

  Tiara who was pulling out a few goodies from the display said, “Actually it was my decision.”

  “Now,” she continued. “My suggestion for you today would be a chocolate covered key lime pie bar on a stick. You can eat it right now as you are walking home and contemplating life, love and internet dating.”

  She handed him the stick and Fergus took it reverently. “And we’ll send you home with this lovely lady for a special treat tonight.” She pulled a particularly sensuous looking pie from its spot. She tilted the pie to Fergus who nodded approvingly, his mouth full. Tiara gently laid the pie in its box with a flourish. “Now for the piece d’resistance, four key lime pie cream puffs, one in each corner of the box.” She tucked each one into the corner and tipped the box toward Fergus for the final reveal.

  “Sold,” he said, licking a smear of chocolate from his thumb. “How much do I owe you?”

  “Let’s see, that will come to forty five seventy nine,” Tiara beamed.

  “Oh, my…It costs me a pretty penny, to enlarge this waist line,” he grumbled, reaching for his wallet.

  “Consider it a peak experience. What could be more important than that?”

  “How much pie do you two actually eat?” He asked, looking them over.

  “More than you would ever believe possible, but we also eat vegetables occasionally,” Marilyn smiled, proud of the figure that she’d managed to maintain despite her incredible sweet tooth. She’d thought about writing a diet book called “Key Lime Today & Fat Goes Away.” It would be the ultimate anti-diet book and just so much fun. It was one of the more frivolous ideas she’d had, but the thought made her smile.

  “He really is a sweet man,” Marilyn said when Fergus left.

  “I’m a big fan of the quirk in this town. It’s like no other place in the world.” Tiara said with a wistful look that made Marilyn wonder.

  “So you really liked her?” Tiara said, snapping out of her reverie and returning to the previous conversation about Susan, her mother’s newest employee.

  “Yup, I did…and I hired her on the spot. I said you would be the money person since I take care of the creative side of things. She completely understood, and when she asked about her pay schedule, I referred her to you.”

  “I’m on it.” Tiara said. “Isn’t this fun?”

  “It really is,” Marilyn leaned over and gave her daughter a little squeeze. “I think you’re brilliant and beautiful and if you stay here long enough every Bernard on the island will be lining up outside the door just to order from you.”

  Shaking her head at her mother’s fantasies, the young woman smiled indulgently, and closed the cash register with a flourish.

  Chapter 6

  It was a busy Saturday morning, and one of the main ovens had just gone out. Susan had jumped right in to her first weekend shift, and Marilyn was about to run an order of seven pies out to a garden party on the other side of the island.

  “I’m taking these to Sandra Harrison’s house, Joe and Larry should be here in five to ten minutes, tops.” Frazzled, Marilyn headed for the door, holding up her cell in a gesture for Tiara to call if anything else should go wrong.

  Her daughter frowned. There was a line of customers that reached out the door and beyond, some of whom were more patient than others, and Susan was too new to run the cash register efficiently.

  “Do you want me to take these over?” Susan asked tentatively, looking at the mountain of unprepared strawberries.

  “No, actually if you could just work on the getting the pie shells that we already have into the freezer and then prep a few dozen more, we’ll be ready to go when the ovens are working again,” Tiara replied, feeling a bit overwhelmed.

  Susan nodded and dove into her task. “Sounds good.”

  Tiara wasn’t so sure. Joe and Larry were a father-son mechanical team who gave Marilyn good rates in exchange for a significant discount on pies. They were usually prompt but they frequently took a long time to diagnose and fix.

  “Ok, yes…what can I get for you?” she smiled, despite her stress, at the woman in front of her.

  “Two slices for here, please.”

  Tiara plated the slices, garnished them with two filled strawberries, rang them up and moved to the next person. After seven minutes of dedicated hustle, the line had diminished and she was ready to pull her hair out.

  “How does my mother do this every day?” she exclaimed, venting to Susan now that the last customer had gone.

  “She’s a talented and determined woman,” the placid baker replied, washing her hands and wondering if the question had been rhetorical.

  “Hey, Tiara,” a male voice said behind her.

  She turned around to see Drew’s perfectly tanned face and walked over to where he lounged casually in a chair near the door, biting her lip as she smiled innocently, having no earthly idea of her fresh young appeal.

  “Hey Drew, what can I get for you?” she asked, delighted to see him outside of class.

  “Oh, uh nothing, actually…I don’t eat sugar…” he said it proudly and Tiara could see why—six packs don’t lie. “I just dropped in to see if you might be up for a dive, maybe tomorrow?”

  Tiara recognized a perfect opportunity when she saw one. She could make a date with Drew that her mother wouldn’t even know about.

  “Tomorrow would be great—” she began.

  “Hey ho,” Larry the handyman called out, as the bell over the door jangled announcing the arrival of him and his son. Father and son were complete opposites – Joe was tall and thin with a receding hairline, Larry had a full head of hair, and a girth that made Tiara wonder how he was able to fit into some of the spaces that needed his attention.

  “I’m so glad to see you two,” she said with a sigh of relief. “We are absolutely stalled out here without our ovens. I hope you can save the day,” she smiled sweetly, hoping that her shameless flirting would spur them to work faster.

  She could feel Drew’s eyes on her and her face flushed with color that had nothing to do with the island heat.

  “Give me a sec,” Tiara s
aid to her Yogi, and turned to Susan who had just come back from the walk-in freezer. “Would you mind?” she asked, inclining her head toward the new customer who had walked in just behind the repairmen. “I’ll only be a minute.”

  “Of course, take your time” Susan smiled knowingly, before turning to the woman at the register. The customer’s cloyingly sweet perfume permeated the entire shop.

  Tiara turned back to Drew. “Is there anything that I should bring?”

  “Tiara,” Susan called out softly. “She would like to use the restroom…?” She phrased the situation in the form of a question because they actually had no public restroom and she didn’t want to offer the employee restroom if it wasn’t allowed.

  “Oh, no problem, it’s in the back on the right. Just be careful, there are some men working on the ovens, so there might be tools on the floor.”

  “Thank you,” came the woman’s voice as she bolted rather quickly to the back of the shop.

  “Tiara, you are a genius!” Fergus burst into the store with greater enthusiasm than usual. she glanced apologetically at Drew and mouthed ‘sorry’.

  “So you liked it, did you?” she smiled.

  “Those little puff things. Exactly right, hit the spot!” Fergus noticed Susan with obvious appreciation, and Tiara looked at him pointedly, warning him without speaking, to stay away from the kitchen staff. “You must be new…” he commented to the baker, who smiled and returned to the kitchen after placing the two fresh pies that she had carried out of the freezer into the chilled display case.

  “Down boy—” Tiara warned, aloud this time. Fergus merely winked at her and began perusing the selection of goodies behind the glass. “So what’ll it be today?” she asked.

  “Same thing as last time. Only hold the popsicle,” he rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

  Tiara smiled at his antics, despite herself, “You got it.” Pulling out a pie box, she carefully loaded up a full key lime pie, four key lime cream puffs in each corner, and four of her new key lime stuffed strawberries on top, tilting it up for approval.

  “Genius,” he pronounced, dramatically plucking one of the strawberries from the pie and popping it into his mouth. She took another from her tray and replaced the missing strawberry, then sealed the box. Fergus paid and dropped a dollar bill into the tip jar, whistling a happy tune as he made his way out the door and back to the boardwalk.

  Tiara returned to the table where Drew reclined in his chair, taking in the entire situation. “I am so sorry. This has been the craziest morning…the ovens aren’t working, my mother is out on a delivery, it’s just been bananas.”

  “You seem pretty yogic about it,” he observed kindly.

  A piercing scream suddenly shattered the lull of the now nearly-empty shop. “Someone help that man,” the lady that had gone back to the rest room yelled, staring in horror through the glass at the front of the shop. Tiara followed her gaze and leaped to her feet.

  “Fergus,” she cried out, tearing out of the shop at a dead run. Drew got there before she did and was assessing the situation. “Fergus, what’s wrong?” Tiara whimpered. His face was drained of color and his eyes were wide with pain and shock.

  “Call an ambulance,” Drew yelled back into the store, while Tiara held the sick man’s hand, frightened tears streaming down her face.

  Marilyn saw the ambulance from two blocks away. She sped through a red light, left the car running and ran to the shop just in time to see Fergus being placed quickly inside. She watched the emergency vehicle depart, sirens flashing, then turned to her daughter.

  “Tiara,” she pulled her daughter into a tight hug. I saw the ambulance…is Fergus ok?” she asked, concerned for her friend, but far less panicked now that she knew her daughter wasn’t bleeding out in the shop.

  “I don’t know,” Tiara said in a small voice, shaking her head.

  “He had a heart attack, but I’m sure he’ll be ok now that he’s with professionals,” Drew spoke up with what seemed like misplaced confidence.

  “Ok,” Marilyn took a breath. “I’d better go park the car…I just left it running out there.”

  She came in moments later, still shaken but trying to relax.

  “Do you want to go home?” she asked Tiara, who appeared to be pretty shaken by the experience.

  “I can give her a ride, if you’d like,” Drew volunteered.

  “Yes, that would be nice,” Marilyn replied, hoping that he wouldn’t try to bowl over her traumatized daughter with a “knight in shining armor” routine. She watched thoughtfully, as he led the way to his car, with Tiara trailing slowly behind him, still in a state of mild shock. She waited until they were out of sight, then went into the shop.

  Susan had finished the crusts on eight more pies and had begun mixing the ingredients for the filling.

  “Susan, are you ok?”

  Marilyn noticed that Susan’s hands were shaking, “Oh, Susan…” she said, pulling the baker into a comforting hug.

  “Ok, you should be all set,” Larry lumbered toward them, tools in hand. Joe was close behind, doing something on his smartphone. These two certainly didn’t seem terribly worried about the medical emergency that had just rocked everyone else’s world.

  “Great…uh, good…how much do I owe you today?” she pulled a check out of register, finding it difficult to switch gears back into business mode so quickly.

  “If you have a few pies to spare, I’d work on a trade today,” the large man grinned, raising his eyebrows.

  “You’re the best, Larry, thanks so much. We’ll box something special up for you.”

  Chapter 7

  Marilyn had meant to call and check on Fergus in the hospital, but business picked up again for the evening rush and she’d been swamped with an unusually high number of tourists. Susan went home for the day once traffic slowed to a dull roar, leaving her to tidy up and close on her own. When everything was finally tucked away in its appropriate place, she flopped into one of the chairs, wondering just how she’d be able to walk home after her long and eventful day.

  Deciding that she deserved a little R&R, she slipped off her shoes, grabbed a slice of pie she’d left out for herself, along with a mini bottle of cabernet that she had stashed in the office, and let out a deep sigh, debating whether or not she wanted to take her car home. She disliked driving on principle and tried to avoid it whenever possible…but her feet might not make it all the way home after the day she’d had.

  Just as she put the first luscious forkful of pie to her lips, the shop phone rang. Feeling delightfully empowered, she chose to ignore it…for at least three rings. But…having been long cursed with the compulsion to be responsible, whether it involved answering phones, or responding to texts and emails, she gave in and picked up.

  “SubLime Sweets, this is Marilyn,” she leaned on the front counter, exhausted, not even bothering to sound perky.

  “Is this Ms. Marilyn Hayes?” A deep male voice asked.

  “Yes, speaking,” she replied wearily.

  “This is Detective Bernard Cortland of the Key West PD. I’m going to need you to come down to the police station to answer a few questions regarding the incident at your shop this afternoon.”

  “Incident?” she repeated, confused.

  “I’m investigating an incident involving a Mr. Fergus Downey. Are you familiar with Mr. Downey, ma’am?”

  Marilyn suddenly sank to the floor, sliding down the counter, and taking the phone cord with her. “Fergus? Is he…?” she trailed off, unable to even finish the thought, and dreading Detective Cortland’s answer.

  “He died on the way to the hospital this afternoon, Ms. Hayes.”

  Tears filled her eyes, remembering his dear pallid face as he was wheeled out. “What happened?”

  “That has yet to be determined,” he dismissed her question brusquely. “You’re going to need to come in for questioning, ma’am,” he repeated.

  Marilyn’s mind whirled. She physically sho
ok it, as if the action would somehow cause a clearing of the myriad of thoughts that currently overwhelmed her.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” she murmured, in shock at the loss of her friend.

  “Well, frankly, ma’am your understanding is irrelevant. You can either come to the station or I can send a patrol car to escort you in.”

  “Oh my,” she exclaimed, wondering at the reason for the detective’s no-nonsense tone. “Right, of course…of course, I’ll be right there…” she promised, continuing to hold the phone even as the line went dead, staring at the floor.

  **

  Marilyn gave her name to the desk sergeant, and quickly followed behind the officious portly man as he led her to Detective Cortland’s office.

  “After you,” the officer held the door open for her to enter.

  “Marilyn Hayes,” he announced to the rugged-looking detective seated at a messy desk

  “Ms. Hayes,” Cortland gestured to one of the two chrome and leather chairs in front of his desk and Marilyn sat, mechanically. “I’m Detective Cortland. I believe you were acquainted with Fergus Downey?”

  “Um, yes Detective, I am…was…” she stammered, rattled. She’d never been inside a police station before. She found the sterile environment entirely foreign and more than a bit intimidating. Not to mention the fact that someone whom she saw at least twice a week, every week, had just passed.

  “I take it he came into your shop on a frequent basis?” Cortland asked, pen poised over a legal pad.

  “He came to the shop every Wednesday and Saturday and sometimes more than that—but he never missed Wednesdays or Saturdays…other than when he went out of town or something,” she recalled.

  “Where would he go when he left town?” the detective eyed her shrewdly.

  “I think he had a sister, but I’m not really sure. Our relationship pretty much revolved around his obsession with Key Lime Pie,” she smiled sadly.

  He nodded, eyes narrowed, lips pursed.

  Marilyn spoke up hesitantly. “Can I ask what this is all about? Even though Fergus had a heart attack this afternoon, we all thought, I mean we all hoped that… that he would live.”

 

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