Death by Scones

by Jennifer Fischetto

  "No one is home," said a voice to my side.

  I turned and saw the white-haired, this time, blue suspender–wearing neighbor. He waved me over. I hesitated at first. This guy could be crazy for all I knew. But he had a slight build, was old, and looked kinda fragile. I assumed I could take him if needed.

  I followed him into his yard, to the other side of the bush he always skirted behind.

  "He was a mean, dangerous man," the neighbor said, pointing to Nathan's house.

  Oooh, maybe he knew some dirt. "Why do you say that?"

  He narrowed his eyes so thin I could barely see his pupils. "He peed in my rose bushes."

  I tried to stifle a laugh, but it did no good. I couldn't keep my composure and giggled. "What?"

  He repeated and pointed to a bush of vibrant red roses. "They won first prize at Danger Cove's garden show, but he didn't care. In fact, the very night they won, he came over and peed on them. I saw from my window." The old man pointed to a window on the second floor of his Victorian home.

  I didn't bother mentioning the roses obviously hadn't suffered much. They were a breathtaking, luscious red, and the petals were already opening. I wasn't sure of the bloom cycle of flowers, but these were magnificent.

  "The man was evil and deserved to die," whispered the old man.

  Suspender Man just made it onto my suspect list.

  * * *

  That evening I was sitting outside on the front steps of Grams' with a glass of ice tea when Jared pulled up. He walked over with paint specks on his jeans and sat beside me. He didn't look happy.

  I'd changed into my denim short overalls and white T-shirt, so I wasn't happy he was seeing me less than "put together," but this was Jared. If he could comfort me through a snotty cryfest as teens, back when my folks passed, then I wouldn't be too insecure now.

  "What's going on?" I asked.

  He sighed heavily. "It's been a long day. Are you busy? I guess I should've called, but I didn't feel like going home, and I didn't want you to turn me down."

  "Why would I turn you down? Do you want some tea?"

  He shook his head. "Maybe you would be busy with Will."

  "Like how you've been busy with Erin?" Yikes, was my jealousy showing?

  He was silent.

  That wasn't good. Or was it?

  "How did it go at your parents? Did you get the house done?" I asked. I hadn't passed their home in a while, but the last time I rode by, the once white siding had become a dull beige.

  "Yes. All done. My brothers and my sister's husband came and helped too."

  "That's great. Then why do you look so depressed?" I didn't want to pry, but I cared about him, and I wanted to help if possible. And he didn't seem in a mood to voluntarily spill.

  He leaned forward, rested his forearms on his knees, and sighed. He wore a short-sleeve gray T-shirt. His arms were already tanned slightly, and the brown hairs glistened in the setting sun.

  "So?" I asked.

  He stared at me. His expression was difficult to read, but I didn't like the hardened edge to his jawline or the faraway gaze in his eyes.

  "You want to know about Erin." It wasn't a question. He knew me well.

  Decency had me saying, "If it's too personal, you don't have to tell me," but I really hoped he would.

  He took a deep breath. "It's not personal. Not for you, anyway."

  My heart soared a teeny bit.

  "I broke up with Erin a couple of months ago."

  Whoa! I hadn't expected that. Being a Libra meant he hated confrontations. That must not have been easy for him to do. I turned and faced him full on. This was great. It meant his heart wasn't breaking, nor was he depressed. Then what was with the scowl?

  "Why?" I asked. Maybe she cheated, and he hadn't moved past it yet. If she hurt him that way, anyway, I'd—

  "It was time."

  I blinked and replayed those three little words again. "Wait, what?"

  He glanced at me and frowned, probably unsure why I acted so surprised. "We hadn't been getting along. Always bickering and fighting. We didn't want to do the same things. We have very little in common. I wasn't even sure, couldn't remember, why we started dating to begin with."

  Wow. This wasn't about some unforgiving act. He ended it because he wanted to. He no longer… "You stopped loving her?"

  He nodded. "It had been so long I wondered if I ever truly did. Maybe it was just lust."

  My chest tightened. Not exactly what I wanted to hear. Focus on how he doesn't love her, Riley.

  "How did she take it?" My ice had melted, and the glass was wet and slippery. I set it down near the welcome mat.

  "Not well. She cried a lot, which made me feel like shit."

  I reached forward and rubbed his back. That sucked. Jared wasn't one of those guys who shied away from crying women. Shoot, most of our junior and senior years of high school had been spent with me crying on his shoulder. But I wouldn't exactly say he was comfortable with it either.

  "Then one night I'd come home from the restaurant, and all of her stuff was gone." He had the typical job for anyone pursuing a day in entertainment. He'd worked nights as a server so he could audition during the day.

  "I was relieved, but I hadn't realized it was the calm before the storm. She went on to call me, screaming about how much she hated me and how I'd ruined her life. It was unreal. She'd always been so calm and sweet."

  In all those times he'd been dumped, Jared had never run into the crazy woman. There were two kinds. One was a genuine, bona fide, in need of medication psychotic. The kind who can maybe get by with outpatient therapy, but one slip and she'd need hospitalization.

  And the second kind, the more common kind, was the perfectly rational, docile woman who helped strays, old people, and little children on most days. Then when crossed, usually by finding her significant other in the throes of passion with someone else, all sensibilities evaporated, and she became a hell beast focused on destruction.

  Erin sounded like she was of the hell beast variety.

  "I wanted to move back home a couple of weeks earlier, but I felt bad leaving with all of that going on, so I waited. Then the nasty phone messages stopped. Just like that. I figured she was doing better, and I left. I wouldn't have had a choice anyway. Teaching at the high school was starting, but I hated the idea of leaving while she was so out of control. I know she's responsible for her own actions, but I wouldn't have been able to fully let her go if I was still concerned."

  I nodded and continued rubbing. This was an emotional heavyweight. No wonder he hadn't blurted it all out that first day back in the bakery. He was somewhat emotionally tied to her well-being.

  "Why is she here then?"

  He straightened his back, flexed his shoulders, and rolled his head once before looking into my eyes. The inner corners of his brows wiggled, as if his face wasn't sure if it should frown or not. "She has some crazy notion that she's going to move back in with me."

  My stomach knotted. Would he be guilted into taking her back? "And is she?"

  This time the frown knew exactly where it should be, and his brows practically touched his lashes. "Of course not. I'd never get rid of her then. Plus, I'm done. Between realizing I don't love her, and then putting up with her crap, I want to ship her back to her folks in New Jersey."

  His frown disappeared, and he shook his head. "But I can't UPS a human being."

  I snorted. It just came out. Then I covered my mouth with my hand. "Sorry. So where is she staying here? Don't tell me your parents'."

  He chuckled. I felt the vibrations through his back. "Of course not."

  I giggled, and soon we were both laughing so hard we were leaning into one another.

  "She rented a room at the Ocean View. I just don't know how long until her money runs out."

  Wow, first Holly and Gloria Dearborn and now Erin. Bree Milton, the owner of the B&B, must've been happy with all of these out-of-towners before the tourist season even began. This also m
eant she had a houseful of crazies, but I was trying not to judge.

  "So you're just going to wait for her to leave? Considering she's delusional or really optimistic, and you can't trust those people either…" I said with a wink. "Isn't that a bit risky?"

  He gave out a hearty laugh. "Yes. I'm not going to leave it to chance. I just haven't figured out what to do either. It's not like I have any authority over her. I've called her parents, and I'm waiting to hear back from them."

  I turned my body so I was facing the street again. But now we were sitting much closer to one another. I pushed into him, shoulder to shoulder. "If you need anything."

  He gazed at me from the corner of his eye. "You'll come rescue me?"

  I shrugged. "Why not? Tara and I do it for one another all the time. That's what friends are for."

  A dark-blue sedan slowed down and parked in front of my house. It was Will. I sat upright, suddenly feeling like I'd gotten caught doing something wrong. He stepped out of the car and walked over to us. He nodded to Jared and then leaned down and kissed my cheek.

  At least he hadn't aimed for my mouth. I had to admit that I was surprised he didn't still look ticked from the other night. He was a nice, good man, but he didn't know how to let things go easily.

  Jared stiffened beside me.

  "Did we have plans?" I asked. I really hated feeling like I was in the middle of these two, but I knew that I was. Maybe it wasn't simply that Will felt jealous. Maybe he picked up on a vibe from something I did or said that made him feel he needed to mark his territory.

  Will shook his head. "No. I just thought I'd surprise you and see what you're doing tonight. I got out of work early."

  I stared into his eyes and tried to smile, but I didn't feel like it. I didn't want him here. I wanted to finish talking to Jared, to make a plan about how to evict Erin from Danger Cove, and to just spend time with my best friend. I opened my mouth to tell Will I was staying in, when Jared stood up.

  "I should be going. I'm exhausted." He looked to me. "I'll call you later."

  I nodded, sorry to see him leave.

  Jared walked off, and Will took his spot and sat down beside me. "So, what do you want to do?"

  "Nothing. I'm sorry, but it's been a long day." If Will and I hung out, I knew I'd be thinking of Jared and Erin the whole time. He deserved better than that. So did I.

  CHAPTER NINE

  An hour later, Amber called and whispered into the phone, "I'll be at your place in ten minutes. Wear flats."

  Before I had the chance to ask what the heck she was talking about, she hung up.

  Fifteen minutes later, I climbed into the backseat of her car, met her college friend Aaron, and learned our clandestine mission was Operation E-mail.

  "We don't have long before Bernie goes to bed," Amber said while parking in front of her house.

  "Shouldn't we wait until she's asleep then? And why do I have to wear flats?" I asked and stepped onto the strip of grass between the curb and the sidewalk.

  "No," Amber whispered, ignoring my second question. "She takes her laptop to bed with her."

  "Why?" Aaron asked.

  Amber shrugged. "Who knows… She's weird."

  "Hey," I said. I was getting a bit tired of Amber always knocking Bernie down. Her stepmother was a fine woman who actually loved my bratty cousin.

  Amber rolled her eyes at me.

  I stuck my tongue out at her. Yes, I could be twenty again too.

  She smiled and led us to the back of the house. She pointed to the study window. The blinds were up, the navy drapes were parted, and the lamp on the desk was on, illuminating part of their backyard.

  "It's unlocked. I made sure of it. Be as quiet as you can. She has hearing like a dog."

  This was the second time she spoke cryptically tonight.

  "What are you talking about?" I asked.

  She jutted her chin toward the window. "When you sneak in, don't knock anything over. I moved a couple of photos and a candle, so it shouldn't be a problem."

  I gasped. "Have you lost your mind? You want us to go through the window? What's wrong with the front door?"

  "She's camped out in the living room until she goes to bed. She's not going to miss her Lifetime movies."

  I wondered why Aunt Bernie didn't watch TV in her room, but then I remembered they didn't keep a television in their bedroom.

  "Well, why don't I go in and have a visit with her, and you can sneak your friend in." I glanced at Aaron. He was so quiet—I'd almost forgotten he was with us.

  Amber sighed. "We're wasting time, and I already thought of this. If you go in, she's going to expect me to hang with you too. Where will I be? In the bathroom for ten minutes?"

  "Well, that's not unrealistic."

  "Yeah, but the bathroom is upstairs, and the study is down here. She'll see me sneak into the study, and I can't ask Aaron to climb into the window alone."

  Why couldn't she?

  I stared her friend up and down and really saw him for the first time. He wore thick, black-framed glasses that definitely had that nerd vibe, but he was tall and super buff. Part geek, part superhero, he kinda reminded me of Clark Kent with the Superman costume on. He wore brown trousers, a beige-and-white plaid top, bright-white sneakers, and slung over his shoulder was an army-green messenger bag.

  "Well, will you do it?" Impatience coated every syllable Amber uttered.

  She'd made a convincing plea, but I didn't like it. Still, it made sense, and I really wanted answers about Nathan's death.

  "Fine. Let's get this over with," I said with a sigh.

  She smiled. "Great. Give me a few minutes to get beside her on the couch and pump up the TV volume." She hurried to the front of the house.

  I glanced at Aaron. "Did you know what you were getting yourself into when she asked?"

  He smirked. "She filled me in on the way to your place."

  "So what are we doing when we get inside?"

  He scratched the side of his nose. "I need to get a copy of the original e-mail so I can see its header. Amber said the e-mail address it was sent from was a Yahoo one. That's good. They don't mask their IP addresses. Gmail does."

  I raised a brow. "What does that mean? My e-mail account is with Gmail."

  "It means that your home IP address is hidden on the e-mails you send. Google, who owns Gmail, lists their own IP address on e-mails, so no one can see your private one."

  I giggled, pleased that I'd made a good choice. "That's cool."

  We gave Amber another minute, and then Aaron, since he was taller, pushed open the window. Then he bent over, laced his fingers together, and cupped his hand so I could use them as leverage to step on. Now I knew why Amber had asked me to wear flats.

  As I pushed myself up onto the windowsill, I was also grateful I chose to wear capris rather than a dress. I got halfway in, and Aaron placed his hands on the back of my legs to give me a push. But I hadn't expected to feel him touch me, especially so close to my butt, so I yelped and lunged forward.

  Shoot!

  I tumbled toward the floor so quickly, I used my hands to brace the fall, and wasn't thinking about my legs. They thrashed from left to right, knocking into a short file cabinet on one side and a plant stand on the other.

  "Sshh," I whispered into the carpet as I landed on it. I lay there and tried to calm my breath and listened for sounds of Aunt Bernie running back here to discover the burglars who broke in.

  Luckily, there was nothing but loud suspenseful music and a girl screaming from her movie.

  I looked up to Aaron, who was leaning in the window. The smile on his face told me my spiral had looked as embarrassing as it felt. I got to my feet with what little dignity I had left and stepped out of his way.

  The study was a small room off the kitchen. It had dark-beige walls, a large oak desk, the black file cabinet, and an old, pink corduroy armchair. It didn't match the room at all, but it looked soft and comfy. The walls were covered in framed photos of Unc
le Doug holding up fish he'd just caught. His smiles were huge and proud.

  Aaron sat on the windowsill and swung one leg in, making it look so simple. While he finished quietly unfolding his long body inside, I ran a couple of fingers along the laptop's touch pad and woke it up. I clicked on her browser and hoped I could find her e-mail easily. Thankfully it was just like Amber said. Aunt Bernie's account was logged on. I only had to click in her bookmarks, and her inbox filled the screen.

  I pulled out the black fabric chair, sat down, and scrolled down the list. She spoke with her sister in Oregon a lot, and she received daily e-mails from a horoscope site, which surprised me. Aunt Bernie was a Cancer. I wasn't overly familiar with Cancer's traits, but I would've bet they had something to do with why she clashed with Amber's Aries. When I reached the last of her messages, I started to panic.

  "It's not here," I whispered.

  Aaron leaned on the back of the chair and said, "Look in the Trash."

  Right. I clicked the Trash folder and scrolled down. She had a ton of e-mails in there, but I found it on the bottom of the second page. I was so excited I started giggling.

  Aaron awkwardly reached over me to do his thing, so I got up and let him have the chair.

  I went to the door and pressed my ear against it. The music and screaming had stopped, but I couldn't tell what else was going on. Amber and Aunt Bernie weren't speaking. It felt so weird standing in here knowing Aunt Bernie didn't know I was here. Sneaking into their house was wrong. I should've found a way to convince Amber to come clean.

  Aaron took out a pad of paper and a pen from his messenger bag and jotted something down.

  I slipped my phone out of my pocket and glanced at the time. It was getting dangerously close to our witching hour. "Are you almost done?" I whispered.

  "I am now," he said and clicked his pen. He dropped it and the pad into his bag and stood up.

  He pushed the chair back in, and I heard Amber say, "Bernie, where are you going?"