Me: Where?
Haley: Granny’s Nooks and Crannies
Crap. That was only a block from POPS. It was run by Barbara Werner, one of Coco’s closest friends and another fiercely independent little old lady. I texted again: Is Barbara okay?
Haley: Still breathing.
I pulled on my Ugg boots, threw on a fleece jacket, snapped on Sprocket’s leash and we flew down the stairs and into the night. The streets were empty. No one was out. A little fingernail slice of moon hung over the lake. As I hustled along, streetlights made the trees cast shadows that felt as if they were reaching out to grab me with gnarled fingers. I kept a tight grip on Sprocket’s leash and pulled my jacket tighter around me. The fleece didn’t keep out enough of the cold. I’d need a real winter coat this year, something with down or wool or both. The only other moving thing I saw was an SUV gliding down Marina Road as Sprocket and I sped by on foot. Whoever was driving didn’t stop. By the time we actually made it to Granny’s, I’d started to calm down only to have my heart rate ratchet back up again when I saw the ambulance with its flashing lights parked in front of the store.
Huerta shepherded the EMTs out of the store. Sprocket barked twice and Huerta looked up. “Rebecca, what are you doing here?”
“I heard there was a break-in. Is Barbara okay?” My breath made puffs of steam on the cold night air.
Huerta looked down at the gurney being pushed by the two EMTs. I looked, too. Barbara’s face was as white as bleached flour, but the side of her head was dark with matted blood. “I’m fine, Rebecca,” she said in a voice that sounded anything but.
“What happened?” I walked over and took her hand. It was even colder than mine.
“I don’t really know. Whoever it was came up from behind and clonked me but good.” She grimaced.
“I can see that. Why?” It seemed so unnecessary.
“Cash register’s cleaned out,” Huerta said, by way of explanation.
“Like Coco’s?” I asked.
He nodded. “Just like Coco’s. Right down to the back window being smashed in.”
“I don’t know why I didn’t hear it.” Barbara shook her head and then winced. “Didn’t even have to do it, for that matter. I hadn’t even locked the door yet.”
“Ma’am?” one of the paramedics said.
I looked around and then realized he was talking to me. “Yes?”
“We’d really like to get Ms. Werner here to the hospital to get more thoroughly checked out, if you don’t mind.” He gave me a look that said his tone might be polite, but it wouldn’t stay that way if I didn’t get out of the way.
“Sorry. I’ll stop by tomorrow, Barbara,” I called as I stepped back and they loaded her into the back of the ambulance.
Her hand fluttered at me, and then she was gone.
“Jasper’s still locked up, right?” I asked Huerta.
He nodded. “I still gotta ask, though, Rebecca. Why are you here?”
I opened my mouth to answer and then realized I didn’t have a good response. “I’m not sure. Haley told me there’d been another break-in and I guess I wanted to see for myself. Barbara was good friends with Coco. I suppose I was feeling a little protective.”
Huerta muttered something into the walkie-talkie thing on his shoulder and in a few seconds Dan was out on the sidewalk, too. “Go home, Rebecca,” he said without preamble greeting or anything. He didn’t look even remotely happy to see me.
“What?”
“I said go home. There’s no reason for you to be here. Go home, lock your door and go to bed. This isn’t your concern.” His face was grim in the flashing lights of the police cruiser and the ambulance.
“Excuse me, but business owners in the neighborhood where I own a business are being clubbed over the head in their stores. I think it might be my concern.” Maybe I would be next.
He shook his head. “Don’t start with me. This isn’t a joke. Coco is dead and Barbara is lucky that she’s still alive. Go home and let me do my job.” And the person he’d arrested for Coco’s murder had an airtight alibi for the attack on Barbara. He didn’t say that part, but it couldn’t have been far from his mind.
Sprocket was already tugging at his leash back in the direction we’d come from. He was such a traitor sometimes. “Fine. I’ll go.”
* * *
I did. But that didn’t mean I didn’t stop by on my way to work the next morning.
Huerta was right. Barbara’s back porch looked exactly like Coco’s had. Like, too exactly, especially since Barbara had said the back door wasn’t even locked. Of course, part of the resemblance was that a lot of the little bungalows in this area had all been built at about the same time by the same builders and had pretty much the same floor plans. Even given that, though, the similarities were startling. The burglar had broken in the lower left-hand pane of the back window in both places, I guessed to reach in and open the door from the inside.
That’s when I froze. It was kind of a long reach from that windowpane to the doorknob. I walked up onto Barbara’s porch. Someone had taped cardboard over the broken pane, for what good that would do. It was a matter of a couple of seconds’ work to peel that back. I reached my arm through and reached for the knob.
I couldn’t reach it. It was on the opposite side of the door. I pulled my arm back out, snagging my favorite blue sweater as I did it. “Damn it,” I muttered. I tried to inspect my elbow, not exactly the easiest thing on the planet to do. It would have to wait until I got to the shop and could take it off to see how much damage I’d really done. I glanced at my watch and realized how late I was running. I put a little more hustle in my step and Sprocket and I got to the shop by six forty-five. It would be enough time to have everything made, fresh and ready, when I opened the doors at seven thirty, but only barely. As I unlocked the front door, I heard the sound of a car in the alleyway. Annie didn’t usually get in this early unless she had a big order. I went through to the kitchen to see if it was her and got there in time to see Mayor Thompson’s Lexus pull out.
Seven
It was another busy day at POPS. The Sentinel had led that morning with the news of the attack on Barbara with a little bit of speculation on whether or not it was linked to Coco’s murder. I wasn’t sure whether business was picking up on its own or if people were using a visit to the shop as an excuse to rubberneck at the closed sign on Coco’s Cocoas. Annie said she was experiencing the same thing over at Blooms.
“The number of people who suddenly need fresh flowers for their front hallways or someone’s desk has pretty much tripled,” she reported as she settled down at my kitchen table.
It was two o’clock and we were having an afternoon coffee break. “It’s kind of gross.” I set out some of the popcorn breakfast bars that hadn’t sold that morning. Apparently no one wants raisins in their popcorn. It had been worth a try.
Annie took one bite and set hers down. “Not one of your better efforts, Rebecca.”
“I realize that now. I’m a little off, I think.” I took a bite. On second thought, raisins in popcorn were not worth a try. I wondered what I’d been thinking when I’d decided to do that this morning. The answer was I hadn’t been thinking about cooking. I’d been thinking about two older businesswomen in the community having both been hit on the head while working at night in their shops.
Annie patted my hand. “We all are. It’s so weird to think that Coco won’t be here. She’s been such a fixture in all our lives.”
“More like a rudder for me. I can’t count the times she’s righted my course when I’ve veered off.” This kitchen, for instance, wouldn’t have been possible without Coco. She’d lent me the money to remodel it into the kitchen I needed. I’d kept the old wooden cabinets, but the stove and the refrigerator were brand-new, state of the art.
Annie made a face. “Seriously? Sailing metaphors?”
“Allen? Hanging around here?” Annie stood up to take the remains of her raisin popcorn bar over to the trash. “I hadn’t really noticed.”
“Maybe it’s just me, then.” Two sweet little old ladies get beat up and a person was bound to get paranoid.
She shrugged and brushed the crumbs off her hands. “Maybe. Well, time for me to get back to Blooms. I’ve got centerpieces for the Elks Lodge to start on.” She gave me a quick hug and slipped out the back door, little bells on her skirt jingling as she went.
* * *
After Susanna showed up, I packaged up some breakfast bars (the ones with chocolate chips, not the ones with raisins), left Sprocket with Susanna and went over to the hospital to check on Barbara.
She sat propped up in the hospital bed, the threadbare gown hanging off her skinny shoulder. The gauze dressing had slipped to a somewhat jaunty angle on her head. “Hey, Barbara. How are you doing?”
She waved a hand taped with various tubes at me. “Fine. All this fuss is ridiculous. I’d be better off at home.”
“When are they going to let you out?” I pulled up a chair to sit down next to the bed. I was about to offer her the box of breakfast bars when I saw there was already a box of cookies on her bedside table.
“They say tomorrow or the day after. Some social worker has been around making noises about how I don’t have anyone to stay with me at home. It’s nonsense. I’ve been living alone since Gerald died and I’ve been fine. I can take care of myself.”
“Popcorn bars,” I offered.
She took a small piece, but didn’t bite into it right away. “Jessica was already by with those.” She gestured at the cookies. “Some sort of gooey thing. Have one.”
I picked one up. A Nutella-stuffed cookie. I gave her props for difficulty. Then I took a bite and promptly took back my props. I’d be willing to bet she hadn’t frozen the dough before she started scooping it out based on how flattened they were. I wrapped the remains of the cookie in a tissue and slipped it into the wastebasket.
Barbara snorted. “Not my sort of thing, either. I usually like anything with hazelnut, but there was something about those that put me off. Maybe . . .” Her words trailed off.
“Maybe what?” I asked.
“It’s strange, but I could have sworn I smelled hazelnut right before I was hit. It’s like drinking too much and getting sick. You never want to drink that kind of booze again.” She laughed. “But it was nice of her to come by.”
I nodded, wishing I had something to wash down the cookie remnants. “That’s Jessica. Always nice.” At least on the surface.
Barbara eyed me as if she could read my thoughts. “I’ve never trusted that one completely. She’s way too interested in what other people think and way too good at manipulating those impressions.”
I almost hugged her, but then realized it would probably hurt her. “I think you and I are the only ones who think that.”
“I’m a bit of a maverick.” She grinned, but then the grin faded. “I think my maverick days may be done, though. I tell you, Rebecca. I’m thinking maybe it’s a sign. Maybe it’s time to close up shop.”
I sat back in the chair. “But you’re a downtown fixture, Barbara. It wouldn’t be the same without you.”
She rolled her eyes. “For a day. Maybe two. In a month, people would have already adjusted and in a year no one would even remember I ever had a shop there. Folks are fickle.” She narrowed her watery blue eyes at me. “You should know that, girl. Your shop might be your life’s blood, but to everyone else it’s just a shop.”
“Fine. But then your shop is your life’s blood, too. What would you do if you closed it?” Barbara still walked a mile along Lake Erie every day. No way she was ready to sit in a rocking chair and knit.
She snorted. “I’d retire. I’d take the money Allen Thompson has been offering me for the house and property and hightail it out to Arizona. I love that dry heat.”
Mayor Thompson again. It was like he was everywhere. At least, everywhere that little old ladies were getting clunked on the head. “Allen’s been trying to buy your shop?”
“Allen’s been trying to buy every shop he can get his hands on since he was out of diapers.” Barbara took a bite of popcorn bar.
I knew he’d been trying to get Coco’s shop, but I hadn’t realized he’d been after Barbara’s as well. The similarities between the break-in at Barbara’s and the one at Coco’s started to sicken me. It had to be more than a coincidence. Two older women shop owners at their stores late at night. Both hit on the head. Both back windows broken. “What were you doing there so late, Barbara?”
She smiled. “I started an online store. There’s only so many antiques a person can sell to tourists who come through Grand Lake. I’ve been listing smaller items online and doing quite well with it. Amazing how much more demand there is if you open it up to the whole world.”
Another parallel with Coco. Barbara still had plans to expand her business. I wanted to ask her more about the online store, but realized I’d better get back to my own shop if I still wanted to have a business, too. “Is there anything I can bring you? Toothbrush? Nightgown? Slippers?” I asked as I started to gather up my things.
“I wouldn’t mind some clothes to go home in. Do you think you could stop by my place and pick up some clean stuff? They made a mess of the dress I was wearing when I came in.” Barbara plucked at the hospital gown. “I don’t exactly want to go home in this haute couture.”
“Of course. I’ll bring them by tonight.” Sprocket and I could stop by after we closed POPS.
“Thank you. There’s a spare key under the second flowerpot on the right from the front door. Grab my velour tracksuit from the second drawer of my dresser and my sneakers from the closet. Oh, and give me another piece of that popcorn bar. Good stuff, kiddo.” She winked at me. “Good on you.”
* * *
When I opened the back door to take the garbage out to the Dumpster, I saw a figure hovering in the shadows. I froze. “Who’s there?” I called, feeling a little stupid for laughing at Dan asking about mysterious strangers lurking in the area.
The figure stepped out of the lengthening shadows. Tom Moffat. One of Jasper’s buddies from the park. “Hi, Rebecca,” he said, his voice gruff.
He was cleaner than Jasper generally was, but he had that same stoop-shouldered shuffle that Jasper had. “Hi, Tom. What are you doing back here?”
“I, uh, well, was hoping that maybe you might still put out the popcorn you didn’t sell. Jasper said you used to do that for him and that it was pretty good.” I could see him looking up at me out of the corner of his eye, like he wanted to see my reaction but didn’t want to meet my eyes.
I didn’t particularly like Tom Moffat, but it wasn’t like I was all that fond of Jasper, either, and it always seemed like a waste to throw out food if someone could use it. “Sure,” I said. I held out the bag that contained the leftover popcorn.
He scurried up to the porch and took the bag from me, backing away quickly. “Thanks.” Then he shuffled off down the alleyway. I watched him go, slightly uneasy that there was another person who might have a reason to come in and out of the alley.
I took off in the opposite direction. I’d made a list of the items Barbara wanted and wanted to stop off at her place on my way home to gather things up. It was a little later than I wanted it to be and it was already starting to get dark when I got to her house on Magnolia Street. Barbara may have specialized in overstuffed Victorian doily-covered furniture at her shop, but her own house was as sleek and modern as a spread from a Danish design catalog. A black leather couch f
aced a flat-screen television wider than my bed. A bowl of green apples sat on a glass and chrome coffee table.
Her bedroom was more of the same. A queen-sized platform bed with black-and-white bedding dominated the center of the room. A stark abstract print with swirls of red and orange topped it. I went to the dresser and found the tracksuit exactly in the drawer where she’d said it would be. I grabbed some underthings and was getting the sneakers from the closet floor when I heard the whoop whoop of a siren out on the driveway.
I looked at Sprocket and he looked back at me, his doggy eyebrows all askew. I went to the bedroom window and looked out in time to see Huerta get out of his squad car and run toward the house in a low crouch. I heard the front door bang open—I hadn’t locked it after I walked in—and then Huerta yelled, “Police! Come out with your hands up!”
* * *
I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at Dan from across his desk. “Hand to God, Dan! Barbara asked me to pick up some stuff for her! You can ask her yourself!”
“Huerta’s asking her right now.” He squared his desk blotter with the edge of the desk and leaned back in his chair.
“Dan, be serious.” This was ridiculous. He knew what I’d been doing there. He’d even had Huerta take the bag of clothing and toiletries I’d gathered up for Barbara with him to the hospital. “Who even called you guys?”
He eyed me for a second. “Jessica James. She said she was cruising by Barbara’s to make sure everything looked okay there and saw the lights on in the house. She thought maybe whoever broke into Barbara’s place would know she wasn’t there and might take advantage of that.”
Jessica. Of course it was Jessica. “What a busybody.”
“What happened to the elbow of your sweater, Rebecca?” Dan leaned forward and pointed to my arm.
“My what?” Then I remembered. I’d snagged my sweater on the broken glass in Barbara’s back window. Speaking of busybodies . . . “I, uh, must have caught it on something.”
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