Trunk Show Murder (A Seagrove Cozy Mystery Book 2)

by Leona Fox

  Chapter Five

  The next day, Sadie woke up to a feeling of pleasant anticipation. John was due to open the coffee shop that morning and Sadie could smell the aroma of baking in the air. Mr. Bradshaw seemed to know that something was up and he was more than a little frisky, trotting through the park like he owned it. They waited in the park until seven am before running back across the street to see if the bakery had opened. It had, and in fact, they could have arrived an hour earlier. Sadie burst through the door with Mr. B. to see John smiling behind the counter.

  “I could kiss you!” Sadie said, “If it wasn’t considered inappropriate. Which it is, and rightly so, but it’s still a nice saying.”

  “Why do you want to kiss me?” John asked, grinning at Sadie.

  “Because you open at six o’clock. I’ve been hanging out in the park forever, just waiting for seven. I didn’t want to scare you by waiting outside the door.”

  “I know,” he said. “I’ve been watching you. Mr. Bradshaw is in fine form today.”

  “He is, isn’t he?” She examined the menu. “What do you recommend this morning?”

  “A cup of regular joe and a cinnamon bun for you, and for Mr. B. a special homemade doggie biscuit. Sound good?” he asked.

  “Absolutely,” Sadie said, and after handing him the cash, settled herself at a table. John brought two mugs and three plates to the table, one of which he put on the floor for Mr. B. Then he sat across the table from Sadie.

  “This is lovely,” Sadie said. “It seems like forever since this store was open.”

  “I’m glad it makes you happy,” John said. “In return you can tell me what’s happening in town. I’ve been too busy to gossip.”

  Sadie started in on Britt Rumstocking’s tale of boyfriend woe when the door opened and Ryan Pallone stepped in. John got up and went to stand behind the counter.

  “What can I get you, Mr. Pallone?” he asked.

  “You remembered my name?” Ryan asked.

  “It’s not likely that I would forget the name of the person who came to tell me that the shop I was just about to open was doomed to fail. And now here you are, I assume you’ve come to buy something?” John said.

  “Indeed. I would like a caramel macchiato and a raisin scone, please. And if I may join you and Ms. Barnett? It’s so much nicer to eat with companions, don’t you think?” Ryan asked.

  “Certainly, if it’s okay with Sadie,” John said. “Extra voices always liven things up. What do you say, Sadie, should Mr. Pallone join us?”

  “Certainly,” Sadie said. “A fresh voice is always welcome.”

  Which was a lie, because Sadie was not looking forward to having breakfast with Ryan Pallone. But it seemed important to keep up the pretense. And also her mother had taught her never to be rude, more’s the pity.

  A moment later the three of them were seated around the table and Mister Bradshaw came to sit on Sadie’s lap. Apparently he didn’t much like Ryan Pallone joining Sadie for breakfast either.

  “What were you talking about before I came in?” He asked. “Unless it was private of course.”

  “I was just filling John in on the local goings-on,” Sadie said. “Britt Rumstocking’s boyfriend was a bit much to handle, but I think we’ve got him sorted now.”

  “And when you say we’ve got him sorted, do you actually mean that you sorted him out? Ryan asked.

  “In this case, yes I did intervene, but only because Britt was willing for me to do so. She doesn’t have the kind of experience to know how to deal with a bully like that,” Sadie said. “And it just so happens that I do.” She looked at Ryan pointedly.

  “Are you suggesting that I’m a bully, Ms. Barnett?” He asked.

  “Yes, Mister Pallone, I believe I am,” she said.

  “Really? You consider me a bully? Why?” Ryan asked, and John choked on his pastry.

  “Because you are trying to push through your agenda against the wishes of the people of this town. That’s why,” she said.

  “Your town plan is antiquated,” he said. “Just think how much more business would come your way if we had a resort overlooking the ocean. How could that possibly be a negative?”

  “This is where you and I differ,” Sadie said. “I don’t need to be rich to be happy. I’d much rather be able to continue walking along the bluffs at the end of the day. I’m not willing to trade it for potential sales. Hell, I’m not willing to trade it for real sales. If you could guarantee me that my profits would double if we put a hotel on that bluff, I still would not want to change the town plan. The people who live in this town, Mister Pallone, live here because we like the ambiance. We like being a backwater.” She turned to John. “Why did you come here, John?”

  “Because I like the thought of living in a quiet town, with customers who are also my neighbors, and whose names I know. Sadie’s right, I don’t think we need some huge hotel.”

  “Think of the jobs. The number of people we could put to work,” Ryan said.

  “We don’t have the population to support a business of that size,” Sadie said. “We’d have people coming here from the surrounding areas, and people moving in wanting to live in a resort town. It would change the flavor, the ambiance. The next thing you know we’d have nightclubs and carousels.”

  “We have nightclubs now, Sadie,” Ryan said. “They just don’t happen to be on Main Street.”

  “No, they don’t,” Sadie said. “And I think that’s the way the people of this town like it. If you put a hotel on the bluff not only will there be increased traffic to the hotel restaurant and I assume a nightclub; but nightclubs, restaurants and other tourist traps will go up on the other side of the street in order to support the hotel. The hotel by itself is already too much. Add those other establishments and we might as well move to Florida and live near Disney.”

  “Amen,” John agreed. “We don’t need the growth.”

  “Lucky for me,” Ryan said. “There are other people in this town that are not adverse to profit. I’m sure to have a few of those on my side when we vote in a new mayor.”

  “You still have to get the town plan overruled, wouldn’t you?” John asked. “It’s not just a matter of voting for a new mayor.”

  “No, perhaps not. But a mayor who was not adverse to progress would be a good first step,” Ryan said.

  Sadie choked on her cinnamon bun. It was taking everything she had not to attack Ryan personally.

  “I’ll go now,” Ryan said. “I can see I’m ruining Sadie’s breakfast. We wouldn’t want that. Good day to you both.” He rose and left.

  “Every time I see that man,” Sadie said. “I like him less and less. He’s a big bully who will do anything to get his own way.”

  “We will just have to make sure that enough of the Main Street business people attend town meetings and vote for the new mayor,” John said. “That’s all there is to it. And I’ll put up flyers if need be.”

  “John Baker,” Sadie said. “I like you more and more. Thank you for a lovely breakfast, and at least partially convivial conversation. I need to go open my shop so I will see you tomorrow.”

  Later that day, after Betty had come in to watch the front of the shop, Lucy came over to discuss Sadie’s next buying trip. They took lemonade out onto the balcony with Sadie’s laptop and a pad of paper.

  “I think you need to go to Spain,” Lucy said. “It’s been forever since you’ve been back there. And you always bring such lovely things home.”

  “Really?” Sadie asked. “Because I was thinking maybe China. I’ve been neglecting the Orient.”

  “China? These days? Do you really think that’s a good idea? I’d hate to think of you in jail in China,” Lucy said.

  “Why would I end up in jail?” Sadie asked. “I know how to behave.”

  “If you say so,” Lucy said grinning. “But you won’t find those lovely Spanish skirts in China. Remember those colors? You sold out in about a week? Didn’t you?”

  “
I did love those skirts,” Sadie said.

  “And what about the olive oil?” Lucy asked. “And the wooden toys?”

  “You want me to go to Spain so badly, why don’t you come with me this time?” Sadie asked. “It’s been forever since you went on a trip with me. And we had so much fun.”

  “True, but who would watch Mr. Bradshaw?” Lucy asked. “He can’t go with just anybody.”

  “Noooo. But maybe Betty wouldn’t mind walking him before and after shop hours. Or the Chief. I bet the chief would let him ride along in the police cruiser.”

  “Mr. Bradshaw might not like that as much as you would,” Lucy said.

  “What are you talking about? Mr. Bradshaw delights in car rides.”

  “I only said he wouldn’t like it as much as you would, that’s all,” Lucy said and ducked the pencil Sadie threw at her. “Where in Spain do you think we should go?”

  “It’s a small country. Why not start in Madrid and then circle the borders. We could get some good beach time in too.”

  “Beach time? We get all the beach time we want right here,” Lucy said.

  “Except that in Spain the water is actually warm,” Sadie said and shivered remembering the last time she’d stuck a toe in the ocean at their beach.

  “True, but you have to balance that with those awful thongs men wear.” Lucy shuddered. “Wrinkly old men with nothing on but a sack for their package. Ugh.”

  “Don’t look if you don’t like it,” Sadie said. “Old men have just as much right to wear obscene clothing as young men. I avert my eyes and try to remember the words of the Declaration of Independence when things like that cross my line of vision.”

  “But why isn’t it the young men with six-packs that we see when we’re on the beach?” Lucy asked. “They must wear those things too. Why would an old man start parading around like that unless that’s what he’d been doing most of his life?”

  “Probably, the younger men are on the beach after we’ve already gone to bed. If we weren’t a couple of little old ladies when we travel we might get a glimpse of what’s happening,” Sadie said. “I’ve changed my mind. We are staying away from beach towns. We can hang out in olive groves and wineries instead.”

  “Okay by me. Some of the images that flashed through my brain made me consider China as a viable option. And I’m scared senseless to go to China,” Lucy said.

  “Nothing bad is going to happen to you or me in China,” Sadie said. “But now you’ve got me thinking about wine and olive oil and beautiful skirts I think I’ll push that trip back. But only if you’ll come to Spain as my assistant. I’ll pay you like last time.”

  “You should have hired me to go to Ireland with you, I could have prevented you from coming home with that hideous instrument of torture you said was a potato peeler. Mark my words, someone is going to get hurt with that someday.”

  “Speaking of which, let’s go down and find that thing, I want to lock it away” Sadie said.

  They thundered down the stairs into the shop where Betty was stacking metal syrup buckets from Vermont. She looked up in surprise when Lucy and Sadie burst out of the stairway laughing. Sadie searched through the drawers at the back of the store.

  “Here it is!” Lucy held the offending object over her head in triumph. “Let’s go bleed something.”

  “What?” Betty squeaked from the front of the store.

  “Ignore her, Betty,” Sadie said. “She’s being dramatic. Give me that thing, Lucy, I’m going to lock it away.” Lucy handed Sadie the potato peeler and Sadie took it and locked it in the safe.

  “That’s overkill, isn’t it?” Lucy asked. “It’s not like people are banging down the door for that thing.”

  “I’m not taking any chances. Until the Marjorie thing gets solved, I’m leaving it in there.” Sadie spun the combination dial with satisfaction. “That’s been worrying me.”

  “If you say so.” Lucy looked at the old grandfather clock near the office. “Is that the time? I’ve got to go. Spain, right? Let me know when so I can work my schedule around it.”

  After Lucy left Sadie went to help Betty tidy things up. There had been some mud hiding under the bottom of some of the syrup buckets and it had flaked onto the floor. While she was sweeping the chief came in.

  “I’m headed over to the Ocean View for some dinner,” he said. “Would you like to come?”

  Sadie perked up. She’d been feeling done in, but the Ocean View was one of her favorite places to eat. The food was basic but good. And the view was spectacular.

  “Sure, I’ll come,” Sadie said. She nodded to the back office. “Should we ask Betty if she wants to come?”

  Chief Woodstone looked surprised, but Betty came in pulling her bag over her shoulder.

  “No thanks,” she said. “I’ve got plans. See you tomorrow, Sadie.”

  “If you’re sure you don’t want to come,” Sadie said.

  “Sadie, when a guy asks you on a date, it’s bad form to invite a third person. You should know that.” Betty shook her head in disbelief and left.

  “Date?” Sadie turned to Chief Woodstone. “Did you ask me on a date?”

  “Uh, yup. At least I thought I was. Apparently I didn’t make that clear,” the Chief said.

  “I’m sorry. I just thought you were being social. You know, I’ll grab my buddies and go to dinner,” Sadie said.

  “It was kind of like that,” the Chief said. “Only it was more I’ll go grab my favorite woman and get a bite to eat. I’ll be sure to make that clear next time. Does Mr. B. need a walk before we go?”

  Sadie liked that the chief hadn’t forgotten Mr. Bradshaw. She thought it was a good sign, although a good sign for what she couldn’t have said. She shook her head.

  “Mr. Bradshaw is fine. He’s having his early evening siesta. I’ll walk him when I get back.”

  The chief drove up the coast and soon they were sitting on the outdoor patio at the Ocean View under an umbrella heater. The evening light was reflecting off the ocean as the sky to the west turned pink and purple.

  “Is this our first date?” Sadie asked. She was only half joking.

  “Don’t you think you would know if you’d been on a date with me?” The Chief asked.

  “Clearly not. I had no idea that this was a date until Betty told me.” Sadie squinted across the table at him. “And I’m not sure you would have told me if she hadn’t brought it up. So spit it out, is this our first date, or not?”

  “It’s the first time I’ve considered it a date,” he said. “Before now it’s been a social - a hanging out with friends and getting a bite to eat thing.” He smiled and winked.

  Sadie wondered if that were true, or if the other times they’d hung out together counted as dates in his mind. Not that it really mattered. It wasn’t a date unless she knew it was a date.

  “So,” she said. “Our first date. I can’t remember the last time I was on a date. Somehow, I don’t think I was nearly this unconcerned on my last date.”

  “I’m not sure how to take that,” he said.

  "You should be flattered, I usually get nervous and have to excuse myself to throw up in the bathroom. Not that I tell my date that. It's not his fault I don't have any social skills," she said.

  "You throw up on dates?" He sounded appalled and fascinated at the same time. "What do you do about your breath afterward?"

  "Oh, I always carry gum. You never know when it might come in handy." She paused a moment. "That's not true. I know when it comes in handy and that's why I carry it." She opened her bag and pulled out a pack. "See. I've got some now. But I won't need it unless I eat something really stinky. I'm perfectly at ease with you Chief."

  She smiled at him. She did feel at ease, and also a few little butterflies in the stomach. Which was not the same as the crippling anxiety that caused her stomach to refuse all food. That was unpleasant. This was not.

  "Could you agree not to call me Chief while we're on a date?" he asked. "Zack is the na
me."

  "Sure, Zack," she said, but it didn't feel right. She hoped she could get used to it. "What are you going to order?"

  "Seafood. No point in coming to the ocean and eating beef. I'm thinking scallops and prawns and maybe some muscles," he said. "How about you?"

  "Are muscles eaten raw?" she asked. "Somehow I could never understand how someone would want to eat raw seafood."

  "Oysters are eaten raw and clams, but I think Muscles are mostly cooked. I eat them cooked."

  "Oysters are supposed to be an aphrodisiac," Sadie said. "But I've always thought it's because of the risk involved in eating them raw, not that they have any special characteristic. Not that I would know. Raw seafood. Yuck.”