Kernel of Truth

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Kernel of Truth Page 20

by Kristi Abbott


  “Not without Rebecca. You don’t understand.” Antoine turned toward me, his tone going from belligerent to beseeching. “I have not developed a single new recipe since you left me. Not one. You were my muse. Come back to me. I will do whatever you want. You can have a popcorn shop right next to L’Oiseau Gris. You can have two popcorn shops. Three. Whatever you want.”

  “I don’t want a popcorn shop next to L’Oiseau Gris,” I said, although that was a pretty sweet piece of real estate. I bet I could sell a lot of popcorn balls to tipsy people out on wine-tasting adventures. That wasn’t the point, though. “I want to be here.”

  Antoine’s face had begun to turn an interesting purple color. “Where you are accused of crimes you did not commit? Arrested on a regular basis? Attacked? Reviled?”

  It seemed harder to defend when he put it that way.

  “Yes. That’s what she wants. She likes being reviled. It makes her feel alive. Now let her go.” Garrett tried to push in between Antoine and me.

  Antoine pushed him back. “Not until I speak to her in private. Get out of my way, shyster.”

  “Shyster? Glorified onion chopper.” Garrett squared his shoulders and glared.

  “Ambulance chaser!” Antoine yelled, head reared back.

  Garrett leaned in and half-whispered, “Jacques Pépin imitator!”

  Apparently that was too much for Antoine. I wasn’t surprised. Antoine hated Jacques Pépin. He let go of my arm and took a swing at Garrett. Garrett took the punch directly on the chin, stumbled backward and then came up swinging himself.

  He’d blacked both of Antoine’s eyes before the security guards were able to separate them.

  Twenty

  “Thanks for going my bail,” Garrett said as we walked out of the police station.

  “It would have been unseemly for Dan to do it,” I pointed out. “Can’t have law enforcement playing favorites and all that.”

  “I also appreciate you testifying that I didn’t take the first swing.” He rubbed the swelling bruise on his jaw.

  “That didn’t seem to impress Judge Romero too much. Good thing I had another batch of fudge with me or you might have been spending the night in lockdown.” I’d also promised to bring over some of the caramel fudge tomorrow. I didn’t mind. Judge Romero was an appreciative audience.

  “You talk pretty tough for a cook.” He put his arm around my waist and pulled me against him.

  “Well, I’ve been arrested a time or two now. I know how things are in the slammer.” I smiled up at him. “Can I buy you lunch, Counselor?”

  “Sure. I wouldn’t mind a little sustenance.” He steered me onto Main Street and we walked to Bob’s Diner. The lunch crowd had cleared, so we were able to get a booth right away. Megan brought us both cups of coffee without being asked and plunked menus down in front of us.

  “Is it true what you said?” Megan asked as she tried to top off my still-full coffee cup. I was so not going to drink that stuff. I was pleased to see that Garrett took one sip and then set his cup down. “In court?”

  “About what?” I’d said a lot of stuff lately.

  “About Jessica selling Coco’s recipe to some big chocolate company.” She set the coffee carafe down and rearranged the salt and pepper shakers on the table.

  “Absolutely one hundred percent true.” I’d been ready to swear to it in a court of law. I might as well be ready to swear to it in Bob’s Diner.

  Megan shook her head. “Coco’s probably spinning in her grave. She’d rather have burned that recipe than sold it.”

  That was true. “I know.”

  “And she’s already sold the shop?” Megan asked.

  “As good as.” Main Street wouldn’t be the same, but maybe Barbara was right. Maybe we’d all forget eventually.

  “You know, maybe that Jessica isn’t as sweet and nice as everybody always says.” Megan picked up the coffee carafe.

  I scratched my head. “Possibly not.”

  Megan went on to the next table and Garrett said, “I’m surprised you’re not doing a happy dance in your seat.”

  “I’m doing it in my head.” I smiled.

  “So now that you’ve got what you’ve always wanted, are you going to let up?” He poured cream and sugar into his coffee and took another sip. By the way his mouth twisted, it hadn’t helped.

  “What have I always wanted?” I asked.

  He smiled. “For the town to be on your side instead of Jessica’s.”

  I considered that for a moment. “It’s not all I’ve ever wanted, but I’m liking it so far.”

  “Fine, but step carefully, Rebecca. She’s littler than you, but she’s still got a nasty bite.”

  I knew that better than anyone.

  * * *

  If anything, the afternoon Coco Pop Fudge crowd had grown that day. I pressed Sam into service, otherwise he was taking up space where customers could stand, and his feet are huge. He had to easily take up the same square footage as two small customers. Way better to have him behind the counter being useful than in front of it, getting in the way.

  Amid the usual midwestern polite call and response of “hellos” and “how are yous,” “thank yous” and “fines,” I heard the occasional “I always wondered about that Jessica” and “Coco would be so proud of you.”

  Then as the crowd began to thin, Jessica barged in. Her hair was tangled around her face. Mascara dripped down her cheeks. She swayed in the doorway and staggered the rest of the way into the shop.

  Everyone got quiet in a hurry.

  She pointed a shaky finger at me. “You have no right. No right! No right to do this.” She gestured around POPS.

  “The judge says that I do, Jessica.” I came out from behind the counter. “Do you need a ride home?”

  “I don’t care what that stupid fat judge says. What does he know? I know who was always here for Coco, and it wasn’t you, Rebecca. You weren’t here when she had her knee replaced. You weren’t here the winter she got pneumonia. You weren’t the one who shoveled her sidewalks in the winter and helped her carry in her groceries. You were off in California finding yourself, marrying a rich husband and then deciding that still wasn’t good enough for you.” She grabbed hold of one of the ice cream parlor chairs for balance.

  “I was the one who was here. Coco’s legacy should be mine. Her will—the only will that counts—says it’s mine. But you have to go and ruin everything with some new thing you say that she was going to make with you. You ruin everything. You always do.” With that she made a slow circle and staggered back out of the shop.

  “Was Ms. Jessica drunk?” Susanna whispered to me as I went back behind the counter feeling chastened.

  “I think so.”

  “So was she really drunk when she had that car accident, too? Was it maybe not cough medicine?” Sam asked.

  I shrugged. I’d done enough damage to Jessica that day. It was starting not to feel so much like a victory.

  * * *

  Garrett had been right about the mornings getting darker and colder. Sprocket and I needed lights now to walk into POPS in the morning. I had a headlamp for me and a little blinking collar light for Sprocket. Not exactly high style, but it was better than tripping and falling in the dark. We probably wouldn’t be walking much longer. As soon as snow started to fly we were driving. I could get a treadmill for the apartment so I could walk off all the tastes and wee bites I ended up taking each day.

  I pulled my keys out of my pocket as we walked up to the door. For a second, I thought I saw movement in the window. Nothing much. Just a dark patch moving against the general blackness of the interior. I stopped and waited, watching the window again. Nothing. I must have imagined it. I opened the door and let Sprocket in first and followed him. I took two steps into the shop and stopped. Sprocket growled. I could have sworn I smelled almonds. Then so
mething smacked down on top of my head and everything went black.

  * * *

  I woke lying facedown on my Versailles tile floor. Sprocket was howling and Annie was talking. She was giving someone the address of the shop.

  “What happened?” I asked, trying to push myself up and then deciding that wasn’t such a good idea as my stomach lurched.

  “You were attacked.” Annie crouched down next to me. “The ambulance is on its way. So is Dan.”

  “Who would attack me?” Sprocket came over and licked my face.

  “Based on the fact that your back window is bashed in, I’m guessing it’s the same person who attacked Coco and Barbara.” She patted my back.

  I managed to push myself up into a sitting position without barfing. “That doesn’t make any sense. I don’t fit the profile.”

  “You’re a female shop owner,” Annie pointed out. She took her shawl off and wrapped it around me.

  “I’m under seventy,” I countered, trying to stop the shaking that had started.

  She shrugged. “Maybe the age thing was a coincidence.” Then she went into the kitchen to get some ice to hold against my head.

  My head hurt too much to argue. I knew there was more, but the pounding in my brain was keeping thoughts from forming. Apparently my head isn’t anywhere near as hard as Huerta’s or Allen Thompson’s. Once Dan and the paramedics arrived, there was no point in thinking at all. Everyone had too many questions and they seemed to all be asking them at once.

  “Jesus, Rebecca, are you okay?” Dan asked, crouching down next to me.

  “I think so.” I reached out and took his arm. It was nice to have something solid to hang on to. I tried to get up, but the room swam in front of my eyes.

  The paramedic who was poking and prodding me and asking questions about drug allergies shook his head and held me down. “You have to be careful with head injuries. We’re taking you in to be thoroughly checked over. Let the professionals decide if you’re okay or not.”

  That actually sounded like a good idea. “Will you take Sprocket?” I asked Dan.

  “I’ll take him home to Haley and Evan. She’s going to want to know what happened anyway, and I don’t want her to hear it from someone else.” Dan patted Sprocket on the head.

  That also sounded like a good idea. She’d be upset enough as it was. If she heard it from someone else there’d truly be hell to pay.

  “Did you see anything? Hear anything?” Dan asked as the paramedics helped me onto the gurney.

  I tried to remember. “There was a shape. Something in the window. I don’t know. I thought I saw it and then I thought I imagined it. I walked in and then pow.” I touched the top of my head. Everything started to swim again.

  “That’s where you were hit? On top of your head?” Dan asked, peering over at the top of my head.

  “That’s where it hurts.” I could feel a knot forming up there, too.

  “Were you bent over or something?” He looked from me to the door.

  “No. I was walking into the store. Why?” I looked over at the door to see if there was something there.

  “Think about it, Rebecca. You’re five foot ten. For someone to hit you on top of the head like that, they’d have to be close to seven foot tall.” Dan stood up and put his hands on his hips.

  “Or standing on something,” Annie said, pointing to one of my ice cream parlor chairs that was nowhere near the table it went to. She stood next to Dan, staring at the scene.

  The paramedics slid the gurney into the ambulance. “We need to take her to be checked out now. You can come by the hospital to ask her questions later.”

  I waved good-bye as the doors shut, and closed my eyes for the ride.

  * * *

  “You’re the lady who showed up at the other lady’s store when that lady got hit on the head, aren’t you?” the dark-haired paramedic asked.

  It took me a few seconds to parse out that sentence. “You mean Barbara? From the antique store?”

  “Yeah. You showed up as we were taking her to the ambulance,” he said as he wrapped a blood pressure cuff around my arm. “Weird that you both got hit on the head at your stores.”

  I could have thought of several other words besides weird to describe it if my head hadn’t hurt so much. “Totally.”

  “She smelled like nuts,” he observed. He sniffed my head. “You smell like almonds.”

  “Are you saying I have something in my hair?” My hand flew up again, but it didn’t do much good since he’d already put the oxygen sensor on my index finger.

  “No. I’m saying you smell a little like almonds.” He started an IV line.

  “Barbara smelled like something, too?”

  “Yeah. Although she smelled a little more chocolatey.”

  “Lucky her.”

  “Yeah.” He sighed. “I really like chocolate.”

  * * *

  Haley was at the emergency room when I got there. I wasn’t quite sure how she managed to beat the ambulance, but never underestimate a big sister.

  “Where’s Evan?” I asked.

  “Dan’s taking him to preschool. I can only stay for a little bit, but I wanted to see that you were okay for myself.” She brushed the hair off my forehead. “Don’t scare me like that again, okay?”

  “I didn’t mean to. I really didn’t plan on anyone smacking me on the head.” I lifted my hand to touch the bump on my head, but Haley stopped it.

  “I know you didn’t plan it. I just think you’re poking around too much and may have upset someone.” She bit her lip. “Someone besides Dan.”

  “Yeah, I get that.” She had a point.

  After checking me out and declaring I had a mild concussion, Dr. Tanaka shuffled me off into the corner of the emergency room for observation. Haley left to pick up Evan at preschool.

  A few hours later, Dr. Tanaka seemed satisfied. She said if I didn’t do anything crazy and could find someone who would stay with me, she’d let me go home. One of the volunteers brought me a magazine to read while I waited, but the words kept blurring. Dr. Tanaka said that would pass in a few hours or perhaps a few days or maybe it was weeks? I was having trouble paying attention.

  According to Nurse Jing Jing, I was also having trouble sitting still. She kept shooing me back into my corner. “You are getting in the way of the actual sick people, Rebecca. Lie down. Be quiet.”

  “I’m bored.” I had tried to count the ceiling tiles above me, but the blurred-vision thing wasn’t helping with that, either. Plus, I kept forgetting which number I was on.

  “I know you’re bored.” She smiled at me and patted my hand as she led me back to my corner. “But I don’t care. You’re in my way. Lie down. Stay out of trouble or I will bonk you over the head, too.”

  She was a little mean for someone who looked that cute and wore scrubs decorated with Hello Kitty. Appearances were so deceiving. Dan finally came by about two hours into my forced incarceration behind curtain number three.

  “Oh, thank God, you’re here. Get me out of this place.” I grabbed his hand. “I’m going to die.”

  His face grew alarmed. “They told me it was a mild concussion. That shouldn’t be life-threatening.”

  “It’s not the concussion. It’s the boredom. I don’t have anything to do.” I pulled myself to a sitting position using his arm. “Take me home.”

  He shook his head and peeled my fingers off his arm. “Can’t you lie quietly for a little bit until they know you’re okay?”

  “No, she can’t,” Jing Jing called from the nurse’s station. “Take her home. She’s driving me nuts.”

  “You heard the woman. Take me home.” I looked around for my shoes and jacket.

  “Who’s staying with her?” Jing Jing asked. “She has to have someone watch her for the rest of the day.”

  �
��Is Haley home?” I asked, not caring one whit that my tone was whiney.

  Dan shook his head. I had a momentary pang of jealousy that he could do that without shooting pains through his head. “Evan has Gymboree in Amherst today. She won’t be home for a couple of hours. What about Annie?”

  “She has a wedding coming up that she’s prepping for.” This wasn’t good. I was afraid Jing Jing might really bonk me over the head if I kept annoying her, and I wasn’t sure I could stop myself from annoying her if I stayed there.

  “I’ll stay with her.” Garrett peeked around the curtain.

  Jing Jing yelled, “We have a winner.”

  “When did you get here?” I asked.

  “Just now. I had to shuffle some appointments around. I can take her home.” Garrett clapped Dan on the back. “You can go back to work.”

  “Don’t you have work to do?” Dan asked.

  Garrett lifted the briefcase he carried. “I brought some stuff I can work on at her place.”

  “Good luck with that.” Jing Jing walked over to my bed. “She’s super needy.”

  “I’ll take my chances,” Garrett said.

  “Then I’ll get the paperwork filled out.” She walked away on her squeaky nurse shoes.

  “I suppose it was naïve to think that this would stop with Coco and Barbara,” Dan said. “I was hoping that whoever it was had moved on.”

  I leaned over to tie my shoes, but got a horrible head rush and sat back up. “I still don’t think I fit the profile. I’m not over seventy and Allen doesn’t want to buy my shop.”

  “Maybe we don’t understand what the profile is,” Garrett observed as he tied my shoes. “Maybe Barbara’s and Coco’s ages had nothing to do with it. What else do they all have in common?”

  “All women. All shop owners. All single.” Dan counted similarities off on his fingers.

  “Both Coco and Barbara could have gotten married,” I said.

  “How do you know?”

  “Barbara told me. Tom Moffat asked both of them to marry him at some point.” I shut my eyes to wish the throbbing in my head to lessen.

 

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