Kneading to Die

by Liz Mugavero

  Stan didn’t, but she was good at faking it. “Of course.” She rose gracefully and held out her hand. “I’m Stan Connor. Lovely to meet you.”

  “Yes, yes, you as well,” Sheldon said, shaking her hand. His was cool and smooth.

  “We’re fortunate, because Sheldon is one of our neighbors,” Emma said. “His Pomeranian, Bessie, is a regular. Where is Bessie today?”

  “Oh, she’s a bit under the weather,” Sheldon said. “But these treats might just perk her up! I’ve seen a steady stream of animals enthralled with them,” he told Stan. “Emma told me you bake them yourself.”

  “That’s right. I have some recipes, and the others I just experiment with until they come out right.”

  “Fascinating.” Sheldon picked up one of the cookies, held it to his nose and inhaled, with eyes closed. Stan glanced at Emma. She shrugged.

  “What ingredients do you use?” Sheldon continued to sniff, but he opened his eyes and looked at Stan.

  “Well, it depends on the flavor, but I use fruit, rolled oats, spelt flour, cheese, pumpkin, all kinds of things, really.”

  “No preservatives of any sort, I presume.”

  “Of course not!”

  “Local ingredients?”

  “As much as possible. In fact”—she pointed to her apple cranberry oat selection—“these have a smidgen of local honey in them to sweeten the flavor a bit.”

  “Delightful! Do you mind if I sample?”

  “Sample the pet treat? I don’t mind, but why would you… .” Stan trailed off as Sheldon Allyn nibbled on the cookie, eyes closed again. Behind him, Emma made a choking sound as she tried to hold back a giggle.

  “Stupendous!” Sheldon declared, his eyes flying open. “Ms. Connor, might you be able to step away from your post for a moment and discuss some business with me?”

  “‘Business’? Uh, sure, I guess,” Stan said. She sent a look to Justin that pleaded, Help me. He had been watching the scene with amusement, too.

  “I got you, sweetie. I’ll make sure no one steals any treats, and I’ll keep an eye on Scruffy,” Justin assured her. “Go on and talk.”

  “Emma, may we use your conference room?” Sheldon asked.

  “‘Conference room’?” Emma repeated. “I don’t have a conference room. But you’re welcome to use my kitchen.” She led them to the back of the store and pushed a door open, revealing a half office, half break room. “Voila.”

  “Thank you, thank you.” Sheldon held the door for Stan and followed her inside and held out a chair. She sat. Instead of sitting himself, Sheldon perched on the edge of the table. Totally in her space. Stan inched back in her chair as much as she could.

  “I’m sorry to be so abrupt with my offer, but your food is a delight and it’s just what I’m looking for. You know Every Sweet Thing’s reputation, I’m sure.”

  Stan gaped at him. Now she recognized the name. Every Sweet Thing bakeries were upscale—gourmet pastries at its finest—sprinkled throughout classy New England towns. There was only one in Rhode Island, in downtown Newport. They tended to land in places like Boston’s Newbury Street. What the heck did the owner of Every Sweet Thing want with her dog treats? “Yes, I know Every Sweet Thing.”

  Sheldon nodded as if he wouldn’t expect anything less. “I’m expanding my reach. And to do so, I’m expanding my line. I’m doing some cupcake shops as a separate line in order to open more stores, and I’d like to do a pet pastry line. I’ve been searching high and low for a creator who will do this justice. I’ve already thought of the name. Every Sweet Thing for Pets.” He drew the words out as if enjoying the taste on his tongue; then he beamed at Stan. “And I’ve had terrible luck so far. Just terrible. Everyone who is referred, they are pompous fools and don’t understand what I want. I want classy. Tasteful, as well as tasty. I want gourmet!” His voice rose on the last words as he swept his hand into the air. His passion for the project was evident.

  Stan waited. Sheldon waited.

  “Well?” he said finally. “Do you have anything to say?”

  “I’m … not sure what you’re asking me.”

  Sheldon smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. “My apologies. When I get excited, I talk in circles. I need a pastry chef. Your pet treats tell me you have potential. I don’t want a pompous fool baking for the ‘fancy’ animals who will eat these creations. I want real. And beautiful. My poster child for pets. So, will you be my pet chef?”

  Stan’s mouth dropped open. A pet chef? Is this guy for real? “You—you mean you want someone to make dog treats?”

  Sheldon sighed heavily. “No, no, no. Cannolis. Birthday cakes. Mousse. Pupcakes. Pet pastry. Do you understand?”

  She didn’t, actually, but this man seemed a bit unstable. “I, um, I think so. But how do you know I can do that? I appreciate your enthusiasm, and it sounds lovely, but I’ve never—”

  “Ah!” Sheldon leaned forward and, to Stan’s shock, planted a kiss right on her lips. “Perfection! I knew I made the right choice. All the greats doubt themselves in the beginning. We will learn together! It will be the first venture of its kind.” He leaped up and clapped his hands. “I’ll get a contract together. Please e-mail my assistant with your information. But first, your phone number.” He waggled a finger at her. “I don’t want you getting away from me.”

  Stan recited her phone number, not even sure what she had agreed to do. Sheldon programmed it into his phone, pulled her to her feet and bussed her cheek. Then he hurried out the door, still raving to himself about his fabulous idea and the amazing team they were going to make.

  Chapter 18

  Stan stayed in her chair after Sheldon’s exit, wondering what, exactly, she’d just gotten herself into. The guy had to be out of his mind. She should go ask Emma. But before she could leave the room, Emma appeared at the door. Her face was flushed with excitement.

  “So? How’d it go?”

  “It was interesting. Tell me the truth. Is that guy for real?”

  Emma gaped at her. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Actually, no. I have no idea who he is.”

  “Holy crap.” Emma dropped into the nearest chair. “You don’t know Every Sweet Thing?”

  “I do know Every Sweet Thing. I know they have good pastry. I just didn’t know who the owner was… .” Stan realized she was talking herself into a corner.

  “Well-known is an understatement. If you’re familiar at all with the food industry, you would know Sheldon Allyn. He’s, like, a visionary.” Emma’s eyes took on a weird shine as she described him. It made Stan think of cult members talking about their crazy leaders.

  “So, bottom line, he’s for real?”

  “He’s so for real! What did he ask you?”

  “He wants a pet chef. For some reason he thinks he wants me. Apparently, because I can bake bone-shaped treats, he thinks I can bake doggie cannolis.”

  “Oh, my goodness!” Emma’s squeal was loud enough that Justin came running from the front of the store.

  “Are you guys okay?”

  “Wonderful! Stan’s gonna be famous—”

  “Hang on,” Stan interrupted. “Don’t get carried away, Emma.”

  “‘Carried away’? He wants her to be his pet chef!”

  “Really?” Justin looked impressed. “Will you get a TV show?”

  “A TV show?”

  “Yeah. Sheldon’s been in discussions about something on the Food Network. Last I heard, anyway,” he said.

  “You know him, too?”

  “Of course.” Justin looked at her like she’d asked him if he brushed his teeth every day. “Who doesn’t know Sheldon Allyn?”

  Emma giggled.

  “I didn’t have time to watch The Food Network! Cut me some slack,” Stan said.

  “Maybe he can do a spin-off on Animal Planet or something.” Justin was getting excited now. “Wow, that’s really cool, Stan!”

  “He just talked to me about it. We’ll see if it even happen
s, guys. He seemed flaky.”

  “His croissants are flaky. He’s one of the most brilliant men I know. He can turn anything into an amazing recipe,” Emma said defensively.

  “He seemed lovely. Just not the type of business deals I’m used to.”

  “You better tell Nikki,” Justin said.

  “Good idea. Where is she, anyway?”

  “I think she’s out back. She had to talk to someone about a dog.” Emma pointed at the far end of the store. “You can go that way. It takes you right into the parking lot.”

  Stan went out the back door, shading her eyes from the sun, and looked around for her friend. Not seeing her, she turned to go back in the store, when the lettering on a white van caught her eye: FROG LEDGE ANIMAL CONTROL. She paused, about to chalk it up to coincidence. Then Nikki walked around the side of the van, her head bent close to Diane Kirschbaum’s, deep in conversation.

  Diane Kirschbaum was at Nikki’s adoption event, an hour away from Frog Ledge. If Nikki knew her, why had she never mentioned it? First Perri Galveston, then Carole Morganwick/Cross, now Diane. She’d thought her friend’s first experience with Frog Ledge had been when she’d seen the house.

  Seemed she had been wrong. It didn’t give her a good feeling, especially after Diane’s cold reception and Nikki’s admission that she’d known Carole.

  “Hey, Nikki!” Stan called.

  Nikki looked up, startled; then she said something to Diane. “I’ll be right there!” she yelled back.

  They went around the back of the van again, out of sight. Stan leaned on the rail and waited. A minute later, Nikki reappeared. Diane climbed back into the van and drove out of the parking lot, her eyes never meeting Stan’s.

  “Hey, you need me?” Nikki jogged over. “We’re getting a lot of applications for the dogs, huh?”

  “We are. And I have a funny story to tell you.”

  “Cool. Let’s go in.” Nikki started for the door, completely ignoring the elephant in the room.

  “Hey, Nik?”

  “Yeah?” She half turned, still holding the door.

  “Why was Diane Kirschbaum here?”

  “She needed to place a pit bull and someone passed my name on.” She shrugged. “Just helping out.”

  “That’s pretty far for her to come to talk about a dog, no?”

  “I guess, but this sounded like a personal thing, not a town thing.”

  “So where’s the pit bull?”

  “What?”

  “The pit bull. Did she bring him to you?”

  “Her. And I have to assess her first. What’s with the third degree, Stan?”

  “No reason.” Stan followed her in. “You seem to know a bunch of people from my new town, including the dead person.”

  “One person’s hardly a bunch. And I told you, I don’t know her. I was just asked to help out. Any new apps?” she asked Justin.

  “Don’t forget Perri,” Stan reminded her.

  “Okay, so what’s the big deal? I didn’t know I had to report back about every person I spoke to.” Her harsh tone stung.

  Justin sensed it, too. He glanced from Nikki to Stan, then held up some papers. “Apps on the other Boston and all three of those guys.” He nodded toward the pen with the smaller breed dogs. “Most of Stan’s treats are gone. Did she tell you her fabulous news?”

  “No, I didn’t get a chance.” Stan brushed by her friend. She could give the cold shoulder, too. “I’m going to take Scruffy outside.”

  She unwrapped the dog’s leash from the chair leg and led the little dog out. Her nub of a tail wagged the whole way. They walked along the parking lot to the grass behind the store. Nikki had certainly seemed annoyed at her questions. If there was a simple answer, she wouldn’t be so defensive. But it seemed like a natural piece of conversation, to mention knowing someone in the town your best friend moved to—especially since Stan didn’t know anyone.

  Maybe she was being oversensitive. Or Nikki was having a bad day. She did get upset at the way pit bulls were treated.

  She sighed, watching Scruffy sniff out the perfect spot to do her business. Maybe I shouldn’t have stormed out like a child. Scruffy hopped out of her squat and pawed at Stan’s leg. She was adorable.

  “Do you like cats?” Stan asked, squatting in front of her.

  Scruffy licked her nose.

  “Why am I asking you that? I can’t adopt another animal right now. No matter how cute you are.” Stan stood up and sighed. Scruffy sighed, too. Stan swore she did. Now she was letting the dog down as well.

  She hoped the rest of the treats really were gone. It was time to go home.

  When they got back inside, Nikki came flying over to her and gave her a huge hug. Her attitude from fifteen minutes earlier was seemingly forgotten. “I heard Sheldon was here! That’s so amazing! Wow, Stan. See, I told you cool things were gonna happen for you!”

  “Thanks. I don’t think I agreed to anything yet.”

  “Well, you’d be crazy not to. Sheldon can get you places. Didn’t I tell you your treats are awesome?”

  “He wants more than treats. He wants a pet pastry chef. I have no idea if I can be that.”

  “Of course you can be that, if you want to be! That sounds like fun for a change. You could use some fun in your life. Hey, I’m sorry to snap at you earlier. I’ve just been overrun by pit bulls, but I can’t ever turn them away. My problem, not yours. Forgive me?”

  “Sure.”

  “Cool.” Nikki didn’t seem to notice Stan’s lack of enthusiasm. “Hey, can you do me a favor? I have to drop these dogs off for training and then follow up on this new dog. I don’t suppose you’d want to watch Scruffy for a while?”

  “Um. Sure, I guess. How long?”

  “Not sure. Overnight, at least. Depends on if I can get away tomorrow. But I’d like to see how she does with cats. So maybe longer.”

  “You have cats.”

  “I know, but she’s not inside that much at my house.Please? She’d love the personal attention.”

  Sitting between them, Scruffy wagged her tail.

  She wasn’t sure how Nutty would feel about it, but what the heck? “Sure. Sounds fun.”

  “Excellent. Here’s her toy.” Nikki dove into her duffel bag and pulled out a ratty stuffed sheep. “She doesn’t go anywhere without it.”

  Scruffy immediately jumped up when she sighted the toy, her tongue hanging out, panting slightly.

  “She likes to play chase,” Nikki said.

  Stan took the toy. It was chewed up, stained and dirty. She looked at the dog. “Sounds like we’re gonna have a fun evening, me and you.”

  Chapter 19

  Stan drove home with her sunroof open and windows partway down so Scruffy could enjoy the fresh air from the backseat. She wagged her stubby tail the whole time, sticking her head out as far as she could so the wind whipped her ears around. They took the long way, since Stan really had nowhere to be. “Life Is a Highway” played in her head, so she didn’t bother with the radio. She figured she wouldn’t see Richard again tonight, and she had no other plans. That is, other than not to get arrested.

  Or she could do some of that research she’d been meaning to do. A relaxing evening on the sunporch, with perhaps a fresh tomato, basil and mozzarella salad and homemade blackberry iced tea while she Googled information on potential murderers. She laughed out loud at the absurdity of it. How in the world had she ended up in this situation?

  But when she drove through Frog Ledge again, especially past the clinic, her thoughts sobered. Someone was dead. Nothing funny about that.

  The green was abuzz with activity. A bunch of teenagers hauled chairs around, arranging them in a half-moon shape facing the library parking lot. Two vans were backed up to the same spot, their back doors thrown open as people carted out equipment. Kids ran shrieking around the circles of adults, throwing balls and chasing dogs. Someone setup a popcorn cart. She remembered the sign she’d seen at the other end of the green for a concert
and dance tonight. It was some historical thing that involved costumes. It sounded like fun. And she hadn’t had popcorn in such a long time. Carnival-type popcorn was almost as good as movie theater popcorn. She salivated for a minute, thinking about it. Then she remembered her reality. If half the town didn’t think she was a killer, she might consider going. But since that wasn’t the case, she resigned herself to a quiet night at home.

  She experienced instant relief when she pulled into her driveway and found no one waiting for her. She had a clear path inside.I don’t have to talk to anyone… . Ha! What a joke my life has become. Well, still is. She slammed her emergency brake up and shut the car off abruptly. It was exactly like her existence in her old place, only she’d really hoped it would be different here. She wanted to meet people, make new friends, get out and do things. But the murder had squashed all that.

  Then she felt bad for whining, even if it was in her own head. The murder had been harder on Carole, certainly. She opened the back door and grabbed Scruffy’s leash and toy, along with the empty containers from her pet treats. “Let’s go. We have a rockin’ good time ahead of us.”

  Her relief at no visitors soon changed to apprehension when she noticed the envelope sticking out of her front door. Hesitant, she approached, wondering if she should even touch it. At this point she wouldn’t be surprised if it jumped up and bit her. But she had to get in the door, and the stupid envelope was, in effect, blocking her way. Stan sighed and ripped it free from the frame. Plain white envelope, nothing written on it. Unsealed. She lifted the flap and pulled out the single piece of paper. She unfolded it.

  A bill from Leonard Homeopathic Veterinary Care for 250 bucks. Stan resisted the urge to rip it up. Amara might be watching right now. Instead, she calmly tucked it in her purse, unlocked the door and led Scruffy inside.

  Nutty waited in the hall, anticipating either Stan’s return or the visitor she brought. His tail went up at the first sighting of Scruffy, but he didn’t bolt like he had when Duncan was in the house. Scruffy’s tail vibrated with excitement as she strained the leash, trying to get to Nutty. Crap. Is she going to try to eat him or wrestle him? Stan’s bets were on Nutty, either way.