I wanted to get out of my own head, at least for a brief while. I knew I had a job to do. I had accepted Spencer’s plea for help to find out who was setting him up, if anyone. I told myself there was a strong possibility that he kidnapped me, and he was the one that murdered Penelope Norwood. However, I wouldn’t be Makayla Rose if I didn’t admit at least to myself that I wanted him to be innocent.
As I strode along the street, new thoughts interrupted these tumbled ones. I looked to my right down a familiar, narrow road, and realized I passed by the town’s used bookstore. Margie’s Used Books was where Inna had worked.
Inna was my eighteen-year-old friend and a good person. Yet, she was found to be involved with the last murder. She had run off. Not an hour passed without me wondering and worrying where she was and whether she was safe. I regretted what happened. I longed for the power to go back in the past and change everything and to influence her to not get involved with the man who had been her downfall.
By that token, I understood exactly what she had gone through with her love. I was there in my past. Funny, here I was again, with a man who might or might not deserve my devotion. Over the years Makayla Rose had grown and matured. I might care about Spencer, and he might not be worthy of that sentiment, but I knew I was strong enough now to serve his bum on a silver platter to the police if he was guilty. With that mindset, I straightened my back, knowing I would see this through to the end.
I headed on to Edna’s, another friend of mine that I had made since I had lived in the town. Edna was a seventy-something elderly woman, who was sweet, and kind, and funny. She was straightforward and as outspoken as anyone I had ever met.
I loved Edna, and I knew if anyone could help me to sort through my thoughts and emotions, she could do it. If not, I know what you’re thinking. Edna makes a mean pie. If she can’t help me sort out my thoughts, well darn it, she can at least feed me. I have no shame in admitting her treats were a huge perk to being friends with her.
I arrived at Edna’s quaint little house on a quiet side street with the fairytale white picket fence and found myself engulfed in a bear size hug from a pint size woman.
“Makayla, my dear. Come in, come in.”
“It’s good to see you, Edna. How are you?”
She took my hand and dragged me past the doorjamb and slammed the door with more vigor than I would have expected from a woman of her age. I already knew that the elderly in this small town were quite energetic, putting most of us younger people to shame.
Edna’s cute little cat, which we had joked looked so much like Spencer with his silver, staring eyes, came padding into the room to encircle my legs. I reached down and gave him a little pat to the head. “And how are you, Spector?”
He meowed in response, and I followed Edna to the kitchen.
“Sit down,” Edna invited me. “Let me pour you a glass of ice tea, and we can have a nice visit.”
“Thank you, Edna. It’s so good to be here. I always love coming to your house. It’s so warm and inviting. Not to mention how it always smells like something delicious baking.”
Edna twinkled with glee. Her little hands fluttered in the air as she expressed herself. “Oh, that’s because I have some goodies baking for you. It won’t be long before they’re ready.”
“I keep telling myself I’m watching my weight,” I told her. “Such ridiculous plans go by the wayside the moment I pass into your house.”
“Pish posh,” Edna exclaimed. “There will be no dieting when you come here, Makayla. You absolutely must try my latest dessert. I am trying out several recipes that might be included in the menu for Peony’s grand reopening, and you are going to be my taste tester.”
I groaned, both lamenting her announcement and welcoming it. Everyone knew my weakness. Heck, they could see my weaknesses on my hips, my thighs, and my bum. From the way Edna radiated excitement, I doubted she would be waylaid from her plan to use my sweet tooth.
“Edna, how did your trip go?” I asked. “You went to New York, right? To visit your friend there?”
“Oh, yes, Margot. She’s going to be okay,” Edna assured me. “Margot is stronger than anyone ever gave her credit for. She was spoiled most of her life, growing up in a house of privilege. Her husband had more money than anyone could imagine, but now she has to take care of herself. I think she’s going to be fine.”
“How terrible that she lost her husband,” I said, feeling sorry for the unknown woman.
“Lost?” Edna said with amusement that puzzled me. “She didn’t lose him, dear. He ran off with a younger woman.”
“Oh.” I fell silent, knowing no words to comment on this. Sure I was sorry, but the entire circumstance did hold a bit of humiliation for Margot. I shouldn’t have felt so uncomfortable given she wasn’t there physically. Women and their problems with men who weren’t worthy of them earned a special place of sympathy in my heart.
I expressed my feelings of compassion for Margot’s predicament. Edna accepted it on the woman’s behalf, but there was also a resignation, some glimmer of acceptance as if she felt this course was the best for her friend. Edna’s following words confirmed my thoughts.
“No one has ever expected much from Margot. All of her life, she’s been pampered and taken care of, but she’s quite clever. I know through this experience, she’ll grow even stronger and be able to stand on her own two feet.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” I agreed.
Edna’s eyes sparkled in a way that made me wonder if anything ever got her down. I personally hoped nothing ever would.
“In a way,” she said, “this is good for Margot. Even as old as she is.”
I recalled the city Edna had left her friend in and wondered just how clever an elderly lady could be. “Are you sure, Edna? It is New York.”
“Oh, she’ll be fine.” Her confidence helped me to feel a little less concerned. “If things don’t turn out as I expect they will, I left an open invitation for her to come and live with me.”
“You’re a very good woman.”
Edna’s cheeks pinked. “Now you.”
“Now me what?” I said, but I knew immediately what she referred to.
Edna waggled a finger at me. “You can’t fool me, Makayla Rose. You’re worrying, and we both know why.”
I couldn’t very well lie to her. “I’m here to enjoy lunch with you, Edna, not dredge up things—”
“I was worried,” she interrupted, and I thought I heard a tremor in her tone, which brought on guilt for being about to make light of the situation. “We all were, Makayla. You disappeared soon after Penelope Norwood did. I tried not to think of the worst.”
I stood and walked around the table to hug her. Edna submitted to an embrace all of a few moments and then shooed me back to my seat. “I’m sorry to worry everyone. Trust me when I say I didn’t want to be kidnapped.”
She gave me a look as if to say who would? “And now you’re worried about your young man, the sheriff.”
I had wondered if she knew about Spencer, but of course she did with half the town camped outside the police station. Word must have spread far and wide. “He’s not mine,” I corrected her. “And it looks like for the time being he’s been stripped of his position.”
I was proud of myself. My voice hadn’t wobbled in the least. While I was scared for Spencer and fearful of whether or not he was guilty, the reality of what I had lived through kept hitting me between the eyes and knocking me off center. Edna pushing me to return to my seat was a good thing because otherwise I might have fallen down. Thinking of falling down, I recalled Spencer’s voice when he had shouted out that someone should catch me as I fainted in his basement. The memory of his concern tightened my chest painfully.
To combat the softer emotions that began to arise, I told Edna, “Spencer and I were—” Here I faltered and pushed on. “We were…um… something. Now we’re…”
“Not something?” Edna suggested, amused.
I laughed. �
��Yes.”
“Well, someone tried to hurt you, Makayla, but they failed.”
“Did they?”
Confusion colored her expression. “Well you’re not a ghost pretending to be alive, for heaven’s sake.”
I smirked. “Of course not. That’s ridiculous. No, I mean, maybe they didn’t intend to kill me in the first place.”
Edna appeared to consider my words. “That would only work if it was the sheriff. He wouldn’t want you dead, but he might want his wife permanently out of the way.”
“Edna!”
I didn’t know how to respond. The thing about Edna was one couldn’t prepare for what would come out of her mouth. She was as direct as Talia, my crotchety upstairs neighbor, but usually held no malice. Edna never bit her tongue but laid out what she thought and darn the consequences. Sure, I thought of the possibility of Spencer being guilty, but I didn’t want anyone else to think so, least of all Edna.
“I’m just going over the possibilities, dear,” Edna said, echoing my thoughts.
I sighed. “Of course you’re right.”
“Do you remember the man’s face?” Edna rose from the table and walked to the counter. She stretched above it to the cabinets that appeared low to me, but I realized someone must have built them to be a custom fit for Edna’s diminutive size. When she brought out two plates, she set them on the table and began dishing baked chicken, potato salad, and green beans for each of us.
I tried not to salivate, but my stomach grumbled. When I knew I would be dining with Edna, I always had a light breakfast. My older friend loved to feed people more than anything, and I enjoyed being one of her more favored guests.
“That’s the problem,” I told her, and my appetite took a sudden dip, which worried me. “I don’t remember anything before Spencer rescued me.”
I decided not to mention the details of how he had found me. If no one had relayed those facts, I wouldn’t. They horrified me, and I wouldn’t be a party to scaring poor Edna worse than she had been when no one knew where I was.
“A face, a smell, a scent, a sound?” Edna suggested. I smiled.
“You’re like a regular detective, Edna. Maybe I should employ you to help me investigate.”
“Investigate?” She shook her head. “No, no, no, Makayla. Leave this to the professionals. Let the police handle it. You remember how you and your friends were almost run down in the street?”
“I know.” I shivered, recalling. “This has to do with me and, well, Spencer asked me to look into it.”
Disappointment reflected in her gaze. “I liked him from the start, but I can’t approve of him asking you to get involved with a madman.”
“Believe me when I tell you I don’t want to get involved.” I clutched my hands together in my lap to keep them from shaking. “I went to visit him, Edna, at the jail. I can’t leave him there even if there’s just the slightest chance he’s innocent.”
“And if he isn’t innocent?”
“Then I will find that out, too, and I will hand over evidence to keep him there.”
“What about your heart?”
I pretended ignorance. “What about it?”
“Will you hand it over, too, my dear?”
Too late for that, I thought and just smiled.
For the rest of my visit with Edna, we went through recipes she was considering for Peony’s grand reopening. Apparently, Peony was giving her much more license after she had tasted Edna’s creations. While we enjoyed the treats Edna made, Edna regaled me with stories of Talia’s behavior being jealous of what she deemed as Edna’s success. I managed to push my fears and doubts to the back of my mind during the time I spent with her. Soon enough, it would all return, and I would have to seek the truth whether I liked it or not.
Chapter Three
The next morning, I left my apartment in a rush to get to the office. With the weather turning cooler, I determined to take my car even though my studio lay just one mile from my apartment complex. I didn’t relish the bite of the North Carolina wind as I traveled along Main Street. Never mind that my old vehicle refused to start, so foot energy would have to do.
As I had done the day before, I passed the street where the used bookstore lay, but this time, I ventured down to have a look. While my heart knew I wouldn’t see Inna behind the desk, dressed in an outfit designed to shock, her feet atop the desk, I must have expected her anyway. Instead, Randall, a boy who had gone to high school with Inna, sat in her place. For a moment, resentment rose at seeing him there.
Randall had been the one to take over Inna’s position at The Donut Hole when she couldn’t work during the mornings. Now here he was, again seeming to follow in her footsteps. My annoyance held no rationality, but it existed all the same.
Turning before Randall spotted me, I retraced my steps to the road that ran East and West through Briney Creek, and soon I arrived at my studio. As was my new habit, I paused outside the door and peeked through the blinds. I’m sure anyone looking on would think I was insane, but they wouldn’t question it if they knew my history.
I suppose I should just move to a new location given my trepidation with this property. However, that would mean giving up my choice location across from Peony’s bakery. If you know nothing of Makayla Rose, at least learn her basic needs.
Since I had overindulged at Edna’s the day before, I declared today a diet day. That meant no morning donuts, even if it did have to come from Zekey’s rather than Peony’s until she reopened. I willed the days to pass until February.
Deciding it was safe to enter the studio and that I wouldn’t find a body, I unlocked the door and walked inside. I had just forty minutes before my first client arrived, and there were several props I needed in place to take the photos, not to mention ensuring the temperature was just right for a newborn.
I booted up my computer and turned on soft music to play over the speakers a technician had installed. Decaf coffee waited for the new mama, in case she was breastfeeding. Regular for me sans the pastry. The hot beverage just wasn’t the same even if it did give me a zing of energy.
With my back to the entrance as I arranged a powder blue blanket, it took the jingle of the bell over the door to alert me that someone had entered. She was early. I swung to face the door and froze. Sunlight cast the man in shadow, but the form and height arrested my attention. He stepped forward and flashed a sardonic smile, a look of interest in the silver eyes.
“Spencer, when did you—?” I gaped, my mouth falling open. This wasn’t Spencer, but he was a dead ringer for my former lover. As he walked farther away from the door and closer to me, I noted the differences. Oh, he could pass for Spencer’s twin, but this man appeared to be a few years older, probably less than five though. He was as tall and just as well built. If I didn’t already have the hots for Spencer, I might be tempted. There was no mistaking Spencer’s brother. “You’re not…”
His smile turned into a charming smirk. “Ashton Norwood, but you can call me Ash. I assume you’re referring to my little brother, Spencer. We used to get that a lot.”
“Little brother, huh?”
He held up three fingers as if I wouldn’t understand with the words alone. “Three years.”
“It’s good to meet you, Ash. I’m Makayla Rose.”
“The beautiful Makayla. You look exactly as I pictured you.”
“Oh? Did you know about me?” He had more knowledge than I had because Spencer had spoken little about his family. All I knew was that he had an ex-wife, two brothers, one sister, and that his parents had passed away. As I listed it in my head, I realized I knew a little more than I thought, but definitely not names.
“From my own investigation,” Ash admitted. “My brother is very closed-lipped about most things, especially his love life.”
I coughed. “We’re not… I mean…” I was really putting together my words well since meeting Ash. I imagined he would return home to tell the others Spencer was in North Carolina dating a me
ntally challenged woman. My cheeks burned as I thought this because I could also imagine the Norwoods descending en masse to rescue said wayward brother.
“You’re not together?” Ash asked. He tilted his head, studying me. I tried to resist shifting beneath the scrutiny, but his affect wasn’t so far from that of his brother. Aside from the handsome resemblance, Ash’s demeanor disturbed me, the way he seemed to find everything I said and did amusing. “That’s not what my intel tells me.”
I put my hands on my hips. “Well your intel is wrong and too gossipy, which doesn’t surprise me given this town. Wait, don’t tell me you’re in law enforcement, too.”
He gave a little humble bow, which didn’t fool me for a second. Ashton Norwood came across to me as anything but humble. “I am, and when we learned about my brother’s trouble, it was decided that I would come down to see what I could do to help.”
“How did you hear? I suppose Pete called as a part of his investigation.”
Ash frowned. “Pete. That might have been his name.”
I doubted Ash forgot who had contacted him.
“The fact remains Spencer didn’t. I’m pretty sure he asked you not to contact his family.”
“Something like that,” I admitted. “He wanted me to look into it.”
“You?” Ash frowned and scanned my studio for the first time. With all the professional photographs on the walls and the equipment, not to mention the set I had waiting for the arrival of baby and mama, it was obvious what my line of work involved. “Why would he ask an inexperienced woman to investigate a murder?”
I huffed and drew myself straighter. “I’m not inexperienced. Not completely.” I refused to go into my stumbling attempts in the past even if they did lead to helping the police to resolve a couple of cases. Sort of. Mentioning my past in New York was also off limits. “Besides, I was kidnapped, and Spencer was blamed for it. I will find out the truth.”
Ash’s gaze narrowed on me, and a slow smile spread over his lips. “You’re worried it was him.”
“That’s absurd!”
Distortion Control (A Makayla Rose Mystery Book 3) Page 2