———
I could hear the garage door open. I looked out the kitchen window as Henry pulled into our driveway in his red Bronco. He was just in time, I’d say. With the breast milk gone, I was going to have to start Kyle on formula.
I ran to the door that led to the garage and opened it just as Henry carried in a bag of groceries. He bussed my cheek as he swept passed me, plopping his bag on the kitchen counter.
“Have you heard any more from Mandy?” he asked.
I shook my head. “She should have landed in Cairo a few hours ago.”
Henry pulled a loaf of bread from the bag. “I just can’t believe that something like this could happen to Ray.”
I walked over and peeked in the bag, glad to see the can of powdered formula and a couple of extra baby bottles. “I made you a sandwich and cut a piece of smash cake,” I said as I pointed. “It’s there on the counter.”
“Looks good,” Henry said as he scooped up his plate. He stopped and looked around the kitchen. “Kyle’s asleep? Where’d you put Mandy’s baby monitor?” he asked.
“It’s in our bedroom, I guess.”
Henry cocked one of his gray eyebrows. “Don’t you think you should bring it into the kitchen?”
“Goodness, why?” I asked. “The two of us have ears. We’ll hear Kyle as soon as he wakes up. Didn’t we raise two babies without such a gizmo?”
Henry chuckled as he walked his plate of food to the kitchen table. “That we did.”
I opened the refrigerator, pulled out my pitcher of sweet tea, poured it over a glass of crackling ice, and rushed it to Henry’s side.
“Thanks,” he said as a sudden cry filled our home. Our eyes met and Henry chuckled again. “I was going to invite you to join me for lunch,” he said. “But . . .”
“But it seems I have a date with a younger fellow,” I teased as I began to make a bottle of formula, following the directions on the back of the can.
Kyle’s wailing grew louder, and I hurried about my task so I wouldn’t have to greet the child empty-handed. Henry pushed his chair back. “I’ll go get him.”
“Thanks,” I said, measuring the powder into the bottle with the plastic scoop I found under the foil lid.
A few moments later, Henry reappeared holding a wide-eyed Kyle, whose face just peeked over Henry’s shoulder. Henry turned so Kyle could see me.
I smiled and spoke in my best baby talk. “How are you, little one?”
“I know he’s missing his mama,” Henry said. “Poor little guy.”
I put a hand on one hip. “But he seems happy to have found his grandpa, I see. Henry, you always did have a way with the babies.”
I tested the milk on my wrist then turned to take the baby. “Kyle is bound to have worked up an appetite by now.”
———
After I fed Kyle his lunch and got him into his swing, I set my sandwich on a rosy plate and pulled up a chair next to Henry, who was just finishing his smash cake. He gave me an approving nod. “This is good stuff,” he said before shoveling down his last bite.
I turned to look back at the clock and announced, “We should be hearing from Mandy soon.”
“I hope so. The sooner she’s back home to Houston with Ray, the better. I’m not too sure the two of us are up for this babysitting job. Not after last night.”
I chuckled under my breath. “You don’t know the half of it,” I said as I turned to answer the ringing phone. “Hello?”
Thank God I heard Mandy’s tired voice. “Mom, I made it. I’m in Cairo.”
I felt my heart leap at the news, and I turned to Henry and gave him a thumbs-up. “Have you been by the hospital yet?”
“Arrived a few minutes ago,” she said. “I’m with Ray now.”
I sucked in my breath. “How is he?”
“He’s asleep, I think. I mean, he’s not conscious anyway. It’s late here and so the doctor won’t be in to talk to me till the morning. How’s Kyle?”
“Fine, fine. I just gave him his first bottle of formula.”
Mandy sounded concerned. “How did that go?”
“Relatively well, though he knows I’m not his mama. He’s missing you.”
“Is he being difficult?”
“Oh no, not at all,” I lied again. “So, Mandy, what do the nurses have to say about Ray’s condition?”
I could hear my daughter sniff. “All they’ll tell me is that Ray’s had a bad fall. But that I already know.”
“How does he look?” I dared to ask.
“He’s black and blue with casts on both legs and a bandage around his head. His face is, well, pretty swollen. To tell you the truth, I barely recognized him.”
I closed my eyes and tried to rub the wrinkles of concern out of my forehead. “Oh no.”
Henry was standing beside me now. “What is it? What’s wrong?” he asked.
I held up a finger at him as I diverted my eyes. “Do you have any idea when the two of you can head for home?”
“I’m not going to know anything until I can talk to the doctor in the morning.”
“You’ll keep me posted then?”
“Of course, Mom.”
“Your dad wants to say a word,” I said as I handed Henry the phone.
“Baby, you okay?” he asked.
I noticed Kyle’s swing had stopped rocking. I walked over to the baby, who was holding out his arms to me. I picked him up and hugged him for comfort. He smelled faintly of diaper wipes; I breathed in the scent as I nuzzled the top of his silky red hair.
I listened to Henry as he spoke with our daughter. “If you need anything, baby, you call, okay? Any time day or night. Your mom and I love you.”
When Henry hung up, I asked, “Did she say if she was heading for the hotel?”
“Not tonight. She said she’s going to sit with Ray so she doesn’t miss the doctor when he makes his rounds in the a.m.”
I hated the thought of her sitting there with her unconscious husband, so alone and anxious. She must be exhausted. “Poor dear.”
Henry turned and opened up his arms, and I, still holding Kyle, nestled inside. We stood that way for a full minute, our hearts breaking as one.
I snuggled in deeper. “Could we pray? For Mandy and Ray?”
Henry nodded, and together we prayed and wept while little Kyle cooed between us.
———
Sometime later, while Henry bounced the baby on his knee, I busied myself cleaning up the kitchen. Henry called from the couch in the living room, “Lisa Leann, have you called any of your Potluck friends to let them know what’s going on?”
“We’ve been playing phone tag,” I admitted. “Why?”
“There was some talk in the grocery store, something about a murder last night.”
I stopped what I was doing and turned around. I could see the top of Henry’s gray head jutting above my mauve couch as he jostled our laughing grandchild.
“A murder? Are you serious? Here in Summit View?”
“Someone over at the trailer park.”
“Lord have mercy,” I said. “I’ll have to call Donna later and catch up on the news.” I walked around the couch and looked down at Henry. “In the meantime, I’d like to run over to the library and get a couple of books about Summit View’s history.”
“Why the sudden interest?” Henry asked.
“Pastor Kevin has asked the Potluck Catering Club to cater the Founders Day celebration in a few weeks.”
“No kidding.”
“Yep, it’s been 150 years since Father Dyer founded the church, and though the new building won’t be ready in time for the anniversary, the pastor wants the club to help make the dessert for the Friday concert, then cater a sit-down dinner in the fellowship hall for about four hundred on Saturday.”
Henry whistled under his breath. “Let’s hope Mandy and Ray will be back by then. But how are you going to juggle all those catering preparations and take care of Kyle?”
“Well, sur
ely Mandy will be back to claim him at some point, plus I’ve got my friends to help me, and . . .” I gave him a wink. “Then there’s you. So, how would you feel about watching Kyle while I hit the stacks for about an hour?”
Kyle let out another peal of giggles and Henry looked up at me, concerned. “Well, what if this little guy gets hungry while you’re gone?”
“He just ate, and besides I’ll be back in a jiff.”
“But what if he dirties his diaper?”
“Henry, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten what to do!” I teased.
He gave me one of his classic smirks. “It never hurts to play ignorant.”
“Come with me,” I said as Kyle’s coloring suddenly changed to bright pink. “I think Kyle just made a little present for his granddaddy.” Henry stood, holding Kyle at arm’s length while I chuckled. “Time for a diaper-changing class.”
“Fine,” Henry said. “I’ll supervise.”
“Oh no you won’t. I’d say it’s time you got your hands dirty.”
———
Ten minutes later, after helping Henry change Kyle’s diaper, I was on my way to the library. I turned the corner near the Higher Grounds Café, passing the entrance to the Higher Grounds Trailer Park. I cut my eyes down the driveway to see if I could discern the trouble Henry had mentioned earlier. Sure enough, I could still see yellow crime tape somewhere in the vicinity of Wade’s trailer. For heaven’s sake, I hoped everything was okay with Wade. Surely my plan to have Wade invite Donna over for hot chocolate in the middle of the night hadn’t ended in the death of one of the two.
I shook my head. No, no, of course not. That was a ridiculous thought.
I drove toward the town library and pondered the possibilities. Someone had lost their life last night. But who?
And why?
I felt my brows knit together. Someone I probably knew. This was a small town, after all. I’d have to call someone as soon as I got home. But as I only dared to leave Henry alone with the baby for an hour, I couldn’t get sidetracked from my mission with a phone call. First, I’d explore the history of Summit View and our beloved Grace Church, then I’d call Wade on my way home. I needed to be sure his dream date with Donna hadn’t ended in someone’s death.
I shuddered. “That would be impossible. Right, Lord?”
Donna
17
Spicy Agent
I don’t remember much about my childhood with my mom, but I do recall she’d let me help her with her baking. It seems like yesterday, me standing on a chair next to my mother by the kitchen counter. I’d put my little hand beneath hers and we’d stir the batter with her silver whisk. “A secret wand,” she’d call it as we’d assemble the ingredients for her favorite recipe, sunshine cake, in her blue mixing bowl. I smiled at the memory: me coated with cake batter and whipped cream while Mom, wearing her blue plaid apron, sang round after round of “Your Cheating Heart,” a Hank Williams classic. We’d giggle while she’d exaggerate the song’s pathos as she’d topped her mandarin-orange-filled cake with frosting just before sprinkling it with blueberries.
The ringing of the cell phone pulled me back to the present, and I found myself once again sitting at my desk in the office I shared with Jerry. I was by myself, as Jerry had abandoned me for a few hours of sleep. I flipped open my phone. “Hello?
Vonnie’s voice was breathy. “David just left. He dropped in and told me the news before he left for the airport to pick up his friend. How are you doing?”
I triple-clicked the top of the ink pen in my hand and swiveled my chair so I could see out the only window in our little office. “I’m okay, though still in a state of shock, I guess.”
Vonnie’s voice was soothing. “You poor dear, you sound exhausted. When did you sleep last?”
I glanced at my watch and saw it was 4:00. “The night before last, I think.”
“Goodness, your father needs to send you home.”
“He would, but we’re a little shorthanded here.”
“It’s all so horrible. I’m so upset for you, for Doreen. I can’t imagine who would want to harm your mother.” I could hear Vonnie sniffle. “Do you have a suspect in mind?”
My heart sank. She didn’t know. Why did I have to be the one to say it? I must have hesitated because Vonnie sounded alarmed. “Donna, then you do know who did this?”
I stood up and shut the door to the office before confiding, “There is a person of interest but—”
“Just tell me it’s not Evangeline!” Vonnie blurted.
My voice sounded flat as I sat back at my desk. “I find it interesting you should ask me that, Vonnie. Do you know something?”
“Well, no! I just, well, I don’t want you to suspect her, I mean.”
I shook my head and looked down. “Me either. She is my stepmother, after all.”
Vonnie sounded eager to agree. “That’s right, Donna, she’s family.”
“But for that matter, though we may not have been close, my mom was family too.”
Vonnie sighed. “I know, dear. This must be so terrible for you.”
I nodded as if she could see me through the phone. “You can say that again.”
There was a pause as Vonnie mustered her courage to ask, “So, you’re not going to arrest Evie?”
“Oh no. Well, at least not yet. For now, the department is examining evidence and putting together a time line of all her movements yesterday.”
The phone line crackled a bit as Vonnie asked, “Can’t you put a stop to it? Make this all go away, for Evie’s sake?”
I contemplated her question as I watched an aspen just outside my office window quake its yellow leaves.
“I wish I could, but it’s out of my hands.”
“Can’t Vernon do something?”
“You’d think,” I said sarcastically, “but he’s only making matters worse. He’s gone and called in the Colorado Bureau of Investigation, from the Denver office.” I imitated my dad: “‘To take suspicion off of the innocent.’”
Vonnie was silent for a moment. “Surely, you don’t think Evie’s capable of murder?”
I picked up my pen and tapped it on the edge of the desk, feeling jittery from the gallons of coffee I’d consumed. “You tell me.”
“What are you saying?”
Leaning forward, I put my elbows on the desktop. “I’m saying we’re talking about a woman who has screaming fits on public sidewalks, or don’t you remember the Bob Burnett incident last year. If you recall, Evangeline flipped out just before her wedding, yo-yoing between two fiancés. Or, how can we forget all the times Evie has hunted down my mother just to give her a piece of her mind? Apparently, that’s exactly what, at least according to one witness, she did yesterday.”
I could hear Vonnie suck in her breath. “Oh my! Well, that makes it all sound . . .”
“Bad. It sounds bad, Vonnie. What can I say?” Someone tapped on my door. “Listen, I gotta run.”
“Okay, but drop by here on your way home. I have something for you, something of Doreen’s. Something I think she’d want you to have.”
I froze as time seemed to melt. Once again, I could see my mom, the way she looked when we’d baked together in our kitchen. She was young, tanned, and beautiful. I imagined her wearing her favorite coral tee with her bell-bottom jeans, and I could almost smell her lilac talcum powder. My voice softened. “What do you have, Vonnie?”
“Recipes. I have Doreen’s favorite recipes, written in her own hand. You know, I spent many a morning at your house, having cake and coffee with your mom, when you were just a little thing. Do you remember?”
“Not really, I . . .”
The knock was louder this time.
I stood up. “You wouldn’t happen to have Mom’s sunshine cake recipe in your collection, would you?”
Vonnie sounded pleased. “I do! In fact, I’ll run to the store and get the ingredients. I’ll bake one for you today, okay? For later when you stop by.”
I
blinked. “That would be nice, Vonnie,” I said as I clicked out of the call.
“Donna?” It was my dad’s voice at the door.
I walked over and opened it to find my dad looking as haggard as I’d ever seen him. I put a hand on my hip. “So, Dad, shall I arrest her or will you?”
“Donna, no one is being arrested today, not until we have more information. I for one just can’t believe . . .”
I crossed my arms and leaned a hip on the doorway frame. “We’ve got our sworn duty to protect the public, you know.”
“The evidence against Evie, well, it’s all circumstantial. But once we’ve done the interviews and rechecked the evidence, I’m sure we’ll come to a different conclusion.”
“Dad, I hate to say it, but we need to put your wife behind bars so we can conduct our investigation before she sways her friends with all her blabbing. They’re a pretty tight group, you know?”
Dad closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “This is exactly why I’ve called in the Colorado Bureau of Investigation. You and I, we can’t be objective here.”
I shrugged. “Well, yes, I’m starting to see that.”
“Excuse me?” A tall man in a dark suit rounded the corner of the hallway and headed toward us, staring at my dad. “Are you Sheriff Vernon Vesey?”
Dad turned and extended his hand. “Yes, and you are?”
“Agent Nate Sawyer. The Colorado Bureau of Investigation’s Denver office sent me over. I understand you have a situation, a murder victim to whom you’re related?”
Dad looked sad as he nodded. “Yeah. My ex-wife.”
Nate shook his head. “That is sticky. Any suspects?”
“Only those we’re related to,” I said.
Bake Until Golden: A Novel (The Potluck Catering Club) Page 12