"You must've been thinking about this for a while," I said and blew on my slice.
He nodded. "Actually, for about a year."
Wow. He hadn't mentioned it during our infrequent Skype chats or when he'd been home for Christmas last year. It saddened me to think how much we'd drifted over time.
"What about you and Erin though?" I asked. Jared had met his girlfriend, Erin, in New York three years ago. They'd been dating all this time. Had she moved to Danger Cove with him?
My stomach knotted at the thought, and I blamed the grease and the day. It was better than admitting that I hoped my best friend hadn't returned with the love of his life. Yes, I wanted to be able to hang out with both of my friends without their significant others in the way. Was that completely selfish?
"We broke up," he said.
Relief pulsed through me, and I had to bite my lower lip to keep my mouth from smiling. Yes, I was probably going to hell. "When?"
He sipped his drink. "We'd been arguing and having problems for a while."
The realization that he'd been in pain extinguished any other spark of glee in me. And it was another reminder of our distancing relationship. "I'm sorry I haven't kept in touch much."
He looked up and frowned. "What do you mean?"
His gaze was intense, and I suddenly felt foolish for bringing up my feelings while he spoke of his trauma, so I took a bite of my almost-not-scalding pizza and talked around the lump in my mouth. "We haven't talked as much as we used to, and I'm sad about that. I remember a time when we told each other everything."
"We still do," he said quickly. "The important stuff."
I scoffed. "Those things aren't important?"
He chuckled. "Yes, they are, but I didn't want to share the moving until I knew for sure. This wasn't the first time I considered it, but in the past, it was just a fleeting thought. I didn't want to get your hopes up until I knew for sure. And when I knew, I wanted to surprise you." A mischievous grin set on his face.
I giggled. "Okay, fair enough, but what about you and Erin?"
He glanced down at his plate, then cocked his head toward me but didn't look into my eyes. "Did you tell me about you and Will?" His tone was low and husky.
"How do you know that?"
He winked. "I grew up here. I have family and friends here."
Duh. Why would I think he'd not know? I was just surprised someone he knew thought it would matter enough to tell him.
"Okay, but if I was breaking up with him…" Then it hit me. Maybe Jared was so upset about the breakup that he hadn't wanted to share. And here I was making him relive it. I could be so dense at times.
I held up a hand. "Okay, let's change the subject. I'm just thrilled you're home."
His smile sent chills down my back.
He raised his glass. "To friends, pizza, and rooftops."
I laughed. Guilt momentarily stabbed me in the chest. How could I have fun when a man had just died? But I pushed it away and said, "Hear, hear!"
We clinked glasses, and my phone rang.
I pulled it from my skirt pocket. I glanced at the display. It was Will. "Hello?"
"Riley." He sounded breathless. "Are you okay? Grandmother told me what happened. I can't believe it."
Him and me both. "I'm fine."
"I'm sorry I can't get away right now. It's been one patient after another today. Some sort of food poisoning." Will had recently graduated from medical school and was interning with Danger Cove's general practitioner, Dr. Eckhardt.
My thoughts bounced to Nathan Dearborn. Maybe he had eaten elsewhere before coming to the bakery, and it was that food that killed him. "Any idea where this tainted food came from?"
"A kindergartener's birthday party last night. The culprit being hot dogs."
That definitely wasn't an event Nathan attended. "Oh. Poor kids."
Jared's brows rose, and he looked to me.
"Will you be okay? Are you alone?" Will asked.
"No, Jared's with me. I'll be fine."
Will let out a breath. "You didn't mention he was coming for a visit."
"It was a surprise. I only found out this morning."
"I see. Well, I certainly don't want to interrupt your reunion." His words were clipped and strained.
Will was the same age as Jared, Tara, and me. We all went to school together, but he'd had his own set of friends. He and I hadn't discussed Jared on our dates, of course, so I never had reason to suspect there might be some animosity between them. Was that what I was picking up on now?
"Are you all right?" I asked.
Will was silent for a moment and then said, "I should get back to the kids. I'll call you when I get a break."
"Okay. Bye." I hung up and stared at my phone.
"Something wrong?" Jared asked.
"Did you and Will have any issues when you were living here?"
Jared chuckled. "That was a long time ago. I don't remember anything. Why? Did he say something?"
I shook my head. "No, but I got the feeling he doesn't like my hanging out with you."
He smirked. "Some people believe men and women can't be friends without sex coming between them."
I laughed loudly, but my thoughts ran to that night in his dad's pickup and the kiss we shared. "That's crazy. Look at you and me."
He hesitated and then said, "Yeah, exactly."
CHAPTER FOUR
It had been five days since Nathan died in the bakery's bathroom. Five days to dwell and obsess over a dead man by the toilet. The weird part was it didn't seem to matter to the town. The day following his death, business had continued normally, just like Tara predicted. That Saturday there had been heavy traffic around lunchtime. Nothing new there. Sunday and Monday the bakery was closed, and then Tuesday and Wednesday we had the regular hectic mornings and lunches with lulls in between. It left me a bit puzzled. How could people continue to eat and socialize, even use the bathroom, after someone had died there? It felt so morbid. I wasn't exactly complaining. The business couldn't afford any more no-sales days. But that didn't mean I wasn't a bit bothered.
"I just don't get it," I said to Amber shortly after she came in for her shift.
"No one knew him. It's hard to feel for someone you don't know. I'm really not surprised," she said while wiping down the counter by a bowl of individually wrapped red-and-white mints.
"But he was a member of our community."
She glanced at me with a frown. "Why is this bothering you so much?"
I scoffed. Why wasn't it bothering her? There had been a dead man in the bakery, and nobody seemed as unnerved as I was. Grams called me back last night. She was glad I was all right but hadn't seemed fazed by Nathan's death. I was starting to wonder if there was something wrong with me.
"Tomorrow is his funeral. I hope people show up. I don't know if he had family," I said and slid the cupcake display door shut.
The bell chimed as the door opened and a customer walked in. It was time for me to leave, so I patted Amber on the shoulder and whispered, "I'm out of here. I'll see you tonight."
I was having dinner at her house later. Uncle Doug drove a big rig, and whenever he came home from a long haul, he wanted the whole family together. Grams, as far as I knew, would not be attending.
I grabbed my bike's handlebars and wheeled it out the back door. My bike, in-line skates, and Danger Cove's trolley, which traveled along Main Street to the pier and back, were my normal modes of transportation. The wind, sun, and fresh air felt amazing on my face as I rolled around town. I was never deficient in vitamin D, and it was awesome exercise, which meant I could taste test all the baked goods I wanted.
Besides, I didn't own a car. I had my license but hadn't driven in over a decade. After the accident, I had no desire to get behind the wheel of a car. Everyone thought I simply didn't like driving, but truth be told, it terrified me. Grams and Tara disliked when I bicycled and skated after dark, but this was Danger Cove. Nothing bad had ever happened here to m
e or anyone I loved. Maybe that was naïve.
The air was warm, and it smelled like salt water. That was common, but every once in a while the scent was stronger than normal, and it always took me back to the last time Mom and I carried a blanket and picnic basket to the beach. It was a couple of months before the accident, and it was just the two of us while Dad was at work. She liked to surprise me with last-minute gatherings for just us girls—lunch on the beach, romantic comedy movie-athons, mani-pedis.
I took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Miss ya, Mom."
Instead of going straight home, I decided to make a trek past Nathan's house. I couldn't place my finger on why it was so important to me. It almost felt like I was drawn there on a gut level. I hadn't been that way in a long time. His place was on the other side of town, but the pedaling didn't bother me. Danger Cove was pretty hilly in areas, especially on Craggy Hill, but I was used to it.
I stopped in front of Nathan's house and cringed. The three-story, large Victorian was an eyesore. It had probably been gorgeous in its day, but now loose roof shingles looked like they'd fall off and kill the next visitor. The windows were caked with dirt and dust. Weeds had evicted the grass some time ago, and the front walkway was cracked. The place looked unlivable. Yet there was a shiny white Toyota Camry in the driveway. Was that Nathan's, or did he have family?
* * *
When I stepped inside Amber's house, it smelled of tomatoes, onions, and beef. Aunt Bernie had made stew. It was her specialty. It was delicious, and I sometimes had seconds, but it was all I ever ate when I came over. Even in the summer. Amber said it was all the woman knew how to cook. She was exaggerating though. It wasn't the only meal, but it was the best. Amber and her stepmother hadn't gotten along well during Amber's teen years. They'd mellowed out some, but I frequently had to remind myself that my baby cousin was still a baby, even at age twenty.
Uncle Doug rose from the ratty brown sofa and pulled me in for a bear hug. "Riley, you look more beautiful each time I see you. How is that possible?"
I decided to dress in 1990s grunge-style for this evening and wore thick black tights under a pair of cut-off denim shorts, a black Nirvana T-shirt, an oversized, yellow-and-black plaid shirt, and my yellow floral Dr. Martens. I resembled Tara's bumblebee look from the other day, but yellow was Uncle Doug's favorite color. And lemon was his favorite flavor, which is why I'd secured a box of lemon squares to my bike's basket.
"Because you spend most of your days staring at other truckers," I said.
A hearty laugh bellowed out from his chest, and he smashed my face against his shirt. Uncle Doug was a big guy—nearly six feet tall with broad shoulders and a slight gut.
I pulled away as Aunt Bernie came into the room. She was nearly as tall as her husband but exactly the opposite in body type. Where Uncle Doug was broad and thick, Aunt Bernie's build was thin and long. Her chin-length brown hair framed her slender face. And to slam home their Odd Couple look, Uncle Doug wore gray sweatpants, white socks, and a red jersey, and Aunt Bernie wore a light-blue maxiskirt, short-sleeve white blouse with a ruffle down the front, and an old-fashioned cameo locket around her long, thin neck.
She smiled and pulled me in for a tight hug. Uncle Doug brought her into our lives three years after Aunt Sandra died. Amber wasn't ready for a stepmom, but Aunt Bernie always went out of her way to make us feel welcome in their home after she and Uncle Doug married.
"Riley, it's good to see you. I hope you're hungry," Aunt Bernie said.
"I'm starved," I said and handed her the pink box from the bakery. Inside, beside the lemon squares for all of us to share after dinner, was a fudge brownie and a chocolate cupcake with chocolate buttercream frosting. She had a major sweet tooth.
Without opening the box, she knew I'd brought something extra for her to eat later when she was alone and tomorrow at her shop. I always did. She winked and then returned to the kitchen.
Uncle Doug and I went to the dining room table and took our seats. He sat at the head of the table, and I sat to his right. Amber would take his left, and Aunt Bernie would sit on the other side. It was the same every time.
Uncle Doug patted my hand. "So, kiddo, a dead man in the bakery on your first day. I'm assuming that won't be a regular part of the store." He flashed me a sly smile.
I giggled, then mentally scolded myself. "Uncle Doug, this isn't funny."
He cleared his throat. "You're right. It's not. Forgive me." He glanced to the ceiling, so I assumed he was talking to God and not me.
"I just did a reading for the mayor, and I hadn't sensed any upcoming trouble," Aunt Bernie said while spooning the stew into a blue serving bowl.
Amber joined us and rolled her eyes. She pretended she didn't believe in this stuff, but I'd seen a deck of tarot cards in her room. She just couldn't give her stepmother an inch.
"Probably because you were focused on him and not the town at large," said Uncle Doug. I wasn't sure if he believed, but he always gave his support. He was awesome that way.
Aunt Bernie set the bowl of stew on the table. "I guess so."
We each helped ourselves and fell into silence for a couple of minutes. Then I asked my uncle, "Did you know Nathan Dearborn?"
Uncle Doug blotted his mouth with his napkin and nodded. "Not well. We were never friends, weren't in the same circles, but we said hello on a few occasions. Because of your mother."
I nearly choked on a tender chunk of potato. "What? Mom knew him?"
Uncle Doug continued nodding. "Yeah, he was her acting coach."
Excuse me? Since when did Mom have a coach? Since when did Mom act? Uncle Doug couldn't have been talking about my mother.
"Hang on," he said, then rose and walked to the entertainment center in the living room. It was old, wooden, and bowing in the center. He opened the doors on the bottom and pulled out a photo album.
Oh my God, did he have a picture of Mom with Nathan?
He returned to his seat, and it was all I could do to not leap out of mine and snatch the book from his grip.
He placed it on the table at the same time I moved his bowl out of the way. He flipped toward the back of the book. "I know I've seen it," he mumbled.
I wasn't sure why I was so excited, but it was as if a buzzing had started within me. Aunt Bernie continued to eat but watched us intently. Amber stood and peered over her father's shoulder.
Uncle Doug pointed to the top left photograph. "There it is. I knew I saw it." He turned the book toward me. "Lily with Nathan."
I stared at the image and swallowed hard. Obviously I recognized Mom immediately. She was young, in her late teens, before she had me. She wore a light-pink short-sleeve top with a ruffle collar and a huge bow on the chest, denim capris, and flats. Her dark hair hung loose around her shoulders, making her look sultry. I only remembered her looking like Mom.
Beside her, staring into the camera, was a young man with blond hair and a sharp jawline. He wore dark jeans, a white T-shirt, and a black leather vest. He wasn't much taller than Mom, a bit broad in his chest and shoulders. Surely that wasn't Nathan. He looked so put together, so nice, so handsome.
"That's him?" I asked, disbelief coating my voice. Granted this photo was over thirty years old, but I never would've guessed this was the same unkempt man who came into the bakery.
"Yes, Nathan Dearborn. Lily was quite smitten with him."
I snapped my head up and stared at Uncle Doug. "Like, she had a crush on him?"
A look of horror fell over Amber's face. I knew how she felt.
Uncle Doug thought for a moment. "Less romance and more admiration. In his time, he was a movie star."
"Mrs. Hendrickson mentioned that, but I never knew Mom was into acting." Why hadn't I known that, and what else did I not know?
* * *
I refused a ride home from Amber. I wanted to ride my bike and clear my head about the news of Mom acting. It wasn't a big deal, but it sure felt like a secret. But instead of going straight home
, I rode to the police station. I needed to find out exactly what had happened to the man in my bathroom. It had to be more than allergies. Maybe he'd been taking some kind of medication, or he had a bad heart. Something other than my food.
The Danger Cove Police Department was a small building with an ample parking lot. I pushed down my kickstand and locked my bike in the bike rack near the front door. The inside lobby held framed photos of the officers and an empty umbrella rack. The walls were painted cream for the top half and had wood paneling on the bottom. The dispatcher-slash-secretary usually sat at the front desk. It was empty now, so I turned into the main room. It consisted of a handful of dark wooden desks. Each held a corded phone, computer monitor and keyboard, and a nameplate, as well as some personal belongings. The chief's office was located to the left and holding cells to the right. It wasn't a large force.
Detective Marshall was seated at a desk toward the back of the room. He was eating a slice of pepperoni pizza. The paper plate was so drenched in grease it looked translucent. The bottom desk drawer was open, and he rested his feet on it. When he saw me approaching, he jumped up, nearly dripping cheese onto the floor. He tossed the slice onto its slick plate and wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Ms. Spencer, what are you doing here?"
I surveyed the top of his desk. There were no open files, no reports, nothing to show what he was working on, and I couldn't see what was on his monitor from this position. "I wanted to come down and find out if you have the official report on how Nathan Dearborn died."
He sat back down and kicked the drawer in. "It was just as I assumed. He had an allergic and fatal reaction to peanuts. Dr. Eckhardt confirmed that Mr. Dearborn was highly allergic to them."
A cold sweat clamped around the back of my neck. "That can't be. We don't bake with nuts."
Lester opened a drawer on the other side of his desk and pulled out a file. He skimmed its contents and found the sheet of paper he wanted. He slid his thick finger down the page to the middle section. "It says right here that the medical examiner determined his death as anaphylactic shock. And before you ask, the only items in his stomach were undigested coffee, flour, eggs, cinnamon, sucrose, sodium chloride, sodium bicarbonate, and peanut oil."
Death by Scones Page 5