Kernel of Truth

by Kristi Abbott

  What I hadn’t considered until that moment was that I no longer owed Coco the money. Now I owed it to Jessica. The idea of being beholden to Jessica was enough to make me want to run around in circles screaming while banging the top of my head with a wire whisk. “I can have the money to you by the end of the month.” It wouldn’t be pretty. I’d be running lean here, but with some artful shifting of resources and perhaps eating a few more—or maybe all—of my dinners with Haley and Dan, I should be able to pull it off.

  “Excellent. That’s all I wanted to talk about.” She stood up and wobbled for a second.

  I grabbed her elbow to steady her. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, Rebecca. You don’t have to be so dramatic.” She pulled her arm away from me and swayed again.

  I took a harder look at her. Her eyes were red-rimmed and sported bags too big to carry on a commercial flight. That wasn’t why she was swaying on her feet, though. Now that I was close, I could smell it. Someone had been putting a little something extra in her morning coffee and it wasn’t me. Jessica smelled of booze. Even though it might not have been the right time, I couldn’t stop myself. I had to ask her. “Why are you telling everyone that Coco wanted to retire?”

  Jessica sighed. “Rebecca, Coco was seventy-two years old. How much longer did you think she was going to keep working?”

  “At least a few years longer. She wasn’t planning on retiring any time soon. She wasn’t planning on winding things up. She was planning on starting new things. With me.” I couldn’t keep the heat out of my voice. I fought to turn down the flame since I wanted a favor. “We were making some plans for a business we were going to start. Would you let me look in her office for the notes? I’d really like to have them.”

  Jessica walked right up to me, so close I could smell the strawberry scent of her shampoo over the perfume of bourbon. “No. I won’t let you rifle through her papers. And I won’t have you spreading lies about some business she was starting with you.”

  “They’re not lies, Jessica. We had plans.” They had been big plans to me, too.

  “Can you prove that, Rebecca?”

  Her voice was so cold it made me shiver. “I could if you’d let me look for the plans we were making in her papers.”

  She shrugged. “Then I guess it would be your word against mine about that. And who would care anyway?” Now she looked up at me, a sly smile on her face. Suddenly her face twisted. She sniffled. Her big blue eyes welled up with tears. One spilled over her bottom lashes and ran down her cheek. “Someone out there made sure that Coco wasn’t going to do anything more, ever. Whatever she was planning is never going to happen now anyway.”

  I felt terrible. Whatever else I thought about Jessica, I knew she was genuinely distraught over Coco’s death. Those puffy eyes. The day drinking. I could at least be sympathetic. “I’m sorry, Jessica. You’re right.”

  Her face returned to normal as fast as if she had some kind of hidden switch. “I am right, Rebecca. And don’t you forget it. Have you considered this? If you hadn’t been pushing Coco to stay in business, maybe she wouldn’t have been there so late that night. Maybe she’d still be alive!” Then she stomped out of the shop.

  My heart raced as I watched her walk out the door. I turned to Sprocket, who had come back into the shop, and said, “Did you see that?” The way her face had changed as if she’d flicked a switch chilled me. How much of what she showed to the world was an act?

  He licked my hand, which I took to be a yes.

  “No one will believe us, you know.” I patted his head. “No one ever.” The whole town believed the face she showed them. Somehow they never saw her when her mask slipped.

  But damn it, I was going to make my point. I flipped the shop sign to Closed and barreled down the sidewalk after Jessica. I caught sight of her as she turned into Bob’s Diner. By the time I got there, Jessica was already seated in a booth.

  “You know that’s not true about Coco. Whether I was here or not, she wasn’t planning on retiring. If anyone was pushing anyone, it was Coco pushing me to do something more with her.” I slid in across from her.

  “What I have to ask—what everyone is asking—is why on earth would Coco go into business with you?” Jessica leaned back and tilted her head to one side.

  “She wanted to start something new.” I thought about what else Coco had said when she’d first approached me about it. “She wanted to do something new and she didn’t want to do it alone.”

  “You’re still not answering my question, Rebecca. Why you?” She smiled. “I mean, we all know you’re okay in the kitchen.”

  “Okay?” I started to rise up.

  Jessica held her hand up. “Hear me out, Rebecca. You’re okay in the kitchen, but clearly not good enough to have made it outside Grand Lake. I mean, you had Antoine Belanger vouching for you and you still couldn’t make it in California.”

  My mouth dropped open and I started to sputter. “Antoine didn’t back me. I was on my own.”

  “And didn’t cut it. The only thing you did was marry someone famous and you didn’t even manage to do that well.” Jessica set her coffee down. “Coco was kind. I’m sure when you came to her with this crazy idea of yours she didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

  “I didn’t come to her. She came to me,” I protested.

  Jessica snorted. “Sure she did, Rebecca. Because that’s what all businesswomen in their seventies do. They go to younger broke people who owe them money and ask if they want to go into business with them. That’s totally how the world works. You know, if you hadn’t been hounding her maybe she would have already retired. Maybe she would have already handed the shop over to me and she wouldn’t have even been there that day and she’d still be alive.”

  “Jessica, I’m telling you. Coco came to me with an idea to combine our businesses. She wasn’t going to retire. I don’t know why you’re telling people that, but you’re wrong.”

  “Rebecca, you’re going to have to keep your voice down.”

  I whirled around. Megan stood behind me, wringing her hands.

  “I have to keep my voice down? What about her?” I pointed at Jessica.

  Megan winced. “Her voice isn’t raised. You’re the one who’s yelling.”

  “Yelling?” Now I actually was. “You call this yelling?”

  “Rebecca, please,” Jessica broke in, her voice sickly sweet.

  I turned back to Megan. “You’re actually still buying this act? All these years and you still think she’s all sugar and spice and everything nice?”

  Megan pursed her lips. “You mean because she stayed here in town and helps teach preschool and run the youth group at the church while taking care of her aunt? That act?”

  I threw my hands up in the air. “Yes. That act. Because that’s what it is. An act.”

  “Well, it’s a pretty convincing one.” Megan shrugged.

  I was about to explain why it wasn’t a convincing act when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around. It was Dan. My shoulders slumped. He gestured toward the door with his head. I followed. At the door, though, I turned and pointed my finger at Jessica. “This isn’t over, and you know it.”

  “Are you threatening me, Rebecca Anderson?” Jessica asked.

  “Yes. I mean no. I mean, stop telling people Coco was planning on retiring when you know it’s not true.”

  Jessica shook her head. As we went out the door, I saw people already starting to cluster around her.

  * * *

  I strode down the sidewalk toward POPS, the fire of indignation fueling the fire of my pace.

  “What the hell was that, Rebecca?” Dan took a couple of long strides to catch up with me.

  “That was me telling Jessica to stop telling everyone that Coco was planning on retiring when she wasn’t.” I pulled the keys out of my pocket and opened the
door. Sprocket sprang up from where he’d been sitting beside it. I gave him a quick pat on the head. “Good boy.”

  “No. I’m pretty sure that was you publicly threatening a fellow business owner.” Dan flipped one of the chairs around and straddled it. “What’s gotten into you?”

  As my anger ebbed away, something else took its place. I brushed at the tears that were forming in my eyes. “Did you hear what she said about me, Dan?”

  He nodded. “I did. It wasn’t nice. It wasn’t true. You’ve got people lining up here in the morning for your popcorn bars. It wasn’t anything you should let get to you. You know that.”

  “No. I don’t think I do know that anymore. Let me tell you what Jasper wanted to talk to me about.” I filled Dan in on that fun conversation. “So basically the whole town thinks I’m a loser. The whole town thinks I’m a failure. Jessica is probably right. The whole town probably thinks I’m making up a story about Coco wanting to start a new business with me.”

  Dan dropped his head.

  I sat back in my chair. “You, too, Dan? Et tu?”

  “Oh, come on. Don’t start with the Brutus stuff. I’m not stabbing and it’s a long way from March. You have to admit, it does seem kind of farfetched that Coco would want to start something new at her age.” He looked at Jessica’s mug on the table. “What does a hardworking cop have to do to get a cup of coffee around here?”

  “He has to follow me to the kitchen.” I went into the kitchen, dumped out the old stuff and started a new pot.

  “Hey! That would have been fine if you microwaved it for a second.” He leaned against the counter.

  “No. It wouldn’t have. It would have been bitter and boiled and nasty. We deserve better. Or at least you do. You’re not a loser.” I rinsed the grounds out of the French press, rinsed the whole thing again with hot water and ground fresh beans.

  As soon as the noise stopped, Dan said, “You know this is part of the problem.”

  “Decent coffee is never part of the problem. It is always part of the solution. Always.” There were few things in life I was certain of, but that was one of them.

  “That’s not what I mean. You always have to make things harder. Let things be simple. Let the stuff about Coco go.” He was almost pleading.

  I poured the boiling water in and set the timer for four minutes. “That’s easy for you to say, Dan. The whole town isn’t calling you a loser.”

  “No. They’re not. They call me Sheriff and one of the reasons they call me that is that I encourage our citizens not to go around threatening one another, especially when one of the townspeople has been killed and another has been attacked.” He looked at his watch. “You know Megan would have already poured me a second cup of coffee by now.”

  “And it would have tasted like swill.” I heated mugs for us and put out the cream and sugar. “I wasn’t threatening her person.”

  “Good. Don’t.” The timer went off. “Now can I have a cup of coffee?”

  I poured the coffee and he took a sip. “Worth the wait?” I asked.

  “You know it is. Stop showing off and explain to me about Jasper again. I always wondered how crazy he actually was.” He sat down at the table. “I caught him looking normal way too many times.”

  I sat down and took a sip of my own coffee. I hadn’t been showing off. I’d been doing what I’d been taught, doing things the right way. Which is when it occurred to me that showing people I wasn’t a loser was a much better plan than stamping my feet and telling them that I wasn’t one.

  Now I just had to figure out how to do that.

  * * *

  After Dan left, I had another surge of business with people picking up popcorn balls for desserts. I took another hour to close after that. I slogged through emptying the display cases.

  No one else was around when I took everything out to the Dumpster. Being out there alone in the alley gave me another little frisson of fear. Someone had been out here looking at the backs of our stores, and it hadn’t been Jasper. I wasn’t sure if it was more frightening to think about a total stranger being back here or it being someone I’d known for years who had suddenly become violent. I wasn’t crazy about either scenario.

  I must have been more deeply lost in thought than I knew because when Allen Thompson turned down the alley in his utterly ridiculous Lexus I almost jumped out of my skin. He slowed down as he pulled abreast of me. “You okay, Rebecca?”

  “I’m fine, Allen. What are you doing here?” I rubbed my arms.

  “Oh, just cruising by.”

  “In the alley? Because that’s so scenic and all?” I mean, who wouldn’t want to take a tour of the Dumpsters of Grand Lake?

  He smiled that white-toothed politician’s grin at me. “I’m the mayor of the whole town, sweetheart. Not just the storefronts.”

  He was also the owner of most of the storefronts, including mine, but still not Coco’s. “Are you sure there isn’t a particular reason you’re interested in this alley, Allen?”

  “I—I don’t know what you mean,” he stammered.

  That was interesting. He looked guilty. The question was of what. Everybody knew he wanted to buy Coco’s shop. He’d wanted to buy Barbara’s, too. Now Coco was conveniently out of his way and possibly Barbara as well. “I was just thinking about Coco. The last time I saw her was Thursday around noon. We were going to have coffee the next morning. When was the last time you saw her, Allen?”

  His brows furrowed. “I’m not sure. Probably Tuesday night at the chamber of commerce meeting. She almost never missed one of those.”

  “Oh. So you didn’t see her on Thursday at all?” I tried to make the question sound casual. “Didn’t stop by to chat about business? About maybe her selling her shop?”

  “Not that I recall.” He stopped. “What exactly are you implying, Rebecca?”

  “I’m not implying anything. I’m just curious about why you’ve been hanging out around this alley so much lately and why you look so guilty when I ask you about it.” My hands balled into fists at my side.

  “Rebecca, stick to making popcorn. Let Dan worry about what’s happening in the alleys of Grand Lake.” He didn’t wait for my response, just gunned his engine and drove away.

  I watched him drive off to the other end of the alley and out onto Second Street and then went back inside. “I don’t like that man, Sprocket. I don’t trust him.”

  I packaged up the leftover popcorn to leave for Tom—not that the misogynistic asshat deserved even my stale leftovers. Really, who spouted that kind of nonsense about women staying in their places anymore? Sadly, I knew the answer was more people than I cared to count. I was most decidedly not in California anymore.

  My hand froze on the door handle for a second as I went to put the package on the back porch for him anyway. How much exactly did Tom dislike women who ran their own businesses? It didn’t help that his shaggy face popped up into the glass frame of the door at just that second.

  I leaped back with a gasp.

  He scowled.

  I looked down at the bags in my hand. It probably wouldn’t do to piss him off any further if he was the person attacking women business owners. I opened the door and handed it to him. He grabbed the bag from me without a thank-you and left.

  “You’re welcome,” I called after his retreating back. He didn’t turn around. He had a total lack of charm in common with Jasper. No wonder they were friends.

  I locked up and we took our evening walk out to the lighthouse. I could feel the weather starting to turn and it seemed like it was getting darker faster. Or maybe that was my mood. It was too cold to sit and dangle our feet, so Sprocket and I contented ourselves with standing at the end of the pier and watching the sun slowly sink toward the water. I wrapped my sweater tighter around myself and turned to go back toward town.

  And nearly ran headfirst into Garrett
Mills. Or, more accurately, he nearly ran headfirst into me, since he was the one who was actually running.

  “Rebecca! Sorry!” He stopped, panting, and wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand.

  “You’re wearing shorts.” I’m an amazing observer. Almost nothing gets past me.

  “Yeah. Dress for the second mile, right?” Garrett bent over slightly to rest his hands on his thighs, which were shockingly muscular. Again, I was only observing.

  “Sure. Whatever you say.” Second mile? He was running more than one? I began to question his sanity, but it seemed rude to mention it. I resumed walking. Garrett fell into step beside me. “Are you stalking me, Counselor?” I asked.

  “Maybe it’s the other way around. Maybe you’re stalking me. I run here every day,” he said. “There’s something about the water . . .”

  “You don’t run here every day. I walk here every day and this is the first time I’ve seen you.” I was pretty sure I’d remember seeing him in his running gear, what with the muscles and all.

  “I usually go in the morning, but it’s getting a little dark and cold for my tastes. I thought I’d try after work instead, but I’m glad I ran into you. I heard about the, uh, thing between you and Jessica this afternoon.” His breathing was returning to something that sounded vaguely normal.

  Fantastic. Of course he had. My conversation with Jessica must have run through the town gossip line like a hot knife through butter. “What? Did she take out an ad or something?”

  He shook his head. “No, but word gets around. Did you really threaten her?”

  “Is that what they’re saying?” It figured. Jessica had timed it perfectly again. Everything she’d said to get under my skin had been said without an audience or in that sweet reasonable tone of hers. I was the idiot who said whatever I was thinking no matter where I was or who I was with and tended to say it at a greater decibel level than was perhaps strictly necessary.

  “Yeah. Along with something about you owing Coco money, and a few other choice tidbits.” He glanced over at me as we walked.

  I tightened my jaw. “Whatever.”