by Lynn Cahoon
“Well, maybe if he would actually do some mayor type work, he wouldn’t have to campaign so hard.” Aunt Jackie checked her phone. It was a habit she’d picked up since she’d abruptly cancelled her engagement with Harrold Snider a few months ago. From what I could tell, Harrold, the owner of the Train Station was my aunt’s soulmate, so I had no clue why she’d taken such a drastic step. Soulmates were hard to find and my aunt had gotten two in one lifetime. She loved her first husband without hesitation and I wondered if her fear of losing that memory was what had made her run scared from Harrold. Whatever the reason, I was hoping for a quick reconciliation. My aunt was better when she was with Harrold. That wasn’t just my opinion, it was fact.
Fifteen minutes later, when the meeting closed (after the mayor had cheerfully reminded everyone to register to vote and that he would appreciate their support in the May primaries), I drew in a deep breath. I know these meetings only happened once a month, but they took a toll on me. I guess it was my introverted nature to worry about things going horribly wrong with each meeting just because of my planning or lack of planning. Kind of like those dreams where I didn’t study for the math test.
Sadie Michaels waved me over to where she stood talking to Paula. Sadie looked like a baker out of a fairy tale. Her cotton dress and sweater had a fifties vibe and she always seemed to have a bit of flour on her, somewhere. She took Paula’s arm and turned her toward me as I walked up. “Tell her she did awesome.”
“It was a great talk. You gave out a lot of statistics I didn’t know about.” I knew Sadie would put me in this position. Paula’s talk had been almost painful to listen to, due to her shyness and lack of speaking skills. I found at least one good thing to say.
Paula adjusted the purse strap on her shoulder. “You don’t have to be nice. I know I’m not the most powerful speaker. But I am working on it. My boss tells me I need to practice more. She’s always sending me out of town to talk to different groups. I keep telling her I’m not ready, but I still get sent. I’m part of a Toastmaster’s club that meets twice a month in Bakerstown. Your mayor attends our group, and man, can he talk.”
That was probably an understatement, but apparently Paula had a good impression of our mayor, so I’d leave her with that. “Sounds like you’re really working on your career path. How long have you worked for the Senior Project?”
“Just over fifteen years. I started as an intern in college. My grandmother was dealing with some fraud issues and when I went to talk to them, I decided to become part of the solution.” She glanced outside where a tall man with dark hair stood near the door. She waved at him and I saw the come to me wave he gave her back. “I hate to cut this short, but I have to go. Tyler, my boyfriend, is here. He’s taking me to lunch today. He’s such a sweetheart. I swear, he spends as much time volunteering at the center as I do working there.”
As she walked away, Sadie watched her leave the shop before turning to me. Over Sadie’s shoulder, I saw the couple through the window. Paula reached for the guy’s hand but he ignored it and started walking away. “He could have come in and heard her talk.”
“It’s probably a good thing for their relationship that he didn’t.” Sadie grimaced at the memory. “I owe you big time for that one. I had no idea she was such a bad presenter. She told me she’s been in that speaking club for years.”
“Yeah, but if Mayor Baylor is in the same club, she probably doesn’t get a lot of practice time.” I nodded to the coffee bar. “It’s been forever since we talked. Do you have time for coffee and one of your brownies?”
I knew tempting Sadie with the treats she supplied to the shop wasn’t the best incentive, but it was all I had. And her brownies were really good.
“I think I can squeeze out fifteen minutes for a friend. Amy and Justin are coming over Saturday afternoon to test cakes. I’ve already got fifteen sample cakes done, but I want to give her a few more choices.” She walked with me to the bar where she sat while I got the coffee and brownies.
“After fifteen cakes, I wouldn’t know what I liked because I’d be on a sugar high.” I filled cups and sat them in front of her, then went for the brownies.
As Aunt Jackie moved behind me she leaned close. “Don’t forget to charge those to the marketing budget. We don’t get those brownies for free, you know.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I dished up the brownies, then wrote out a receipt and put it in the till. When I heard the door at the top of the stairs shut, I walked over and sat next to Sadie. “She’s still in a funk. I keep trying to get her to tell me what Harrold did, but she insists he didn’t do anything and this is none of my business.”
“Well, she’s right about that.” Sadie put a comforting hand on my arm as I started to object. “It’s not about you, Jill. This is her life and if she called the wedding off, there has to be a good reason.”
“I’ve talked to Harrold. He’s as confused as I am. One minute, Aunt Jackie’s all bridezilla about the weight of the paper for the invitations. The next, she very calmly and politely dumps him the night of Amy’s engagement party.” I sipped my coffee. “It just doesn’t make any sense.”
“Have you thought about talking to her doctors? Or Mary?” Sadie bit into the brownie and groaned. “I know it’s prideful to talk about your own cooking, but these are amazing.”
“Mary’s as confused as Harrold. And what’s worse is Aunt Jackie won’t talk to her. She’s cancelled three get togethers at the last minute with very flimsy excuses.” I broke off a piece of brownie and popped it into my mouth. Chocolate explosion. After I chased it down with a sip of coffee, I frowned. “That’s not like her at all. Maybe I should call her doctor. She gave me a health power of attorney last year. That should get me around the doctor patient confidentiality stuff.”
“It might. If you need someone to get her out of her apartment so you can go snooping, let me know. We’ve been talking about visiting this restaurant supply place to get me new pans. She has connections.” Sadie finished the brownie, then looked at the clock. “I’ve better go. Three cakes today. Three tomorrow, and I’ll be done. Then I’m helping Pastor Bill sort the food pantry. We got a ton of donations during the holidays. There’s no way to figure out what we have to giveaway.”
After Sadie left, Deek finished setting back up the dining room, then leaned over the bar, looking out the window. “Your friend is crushing on the preacher dude.”
I smiled as I turned back around. Sadie was precisely crushing on Pastor Bill, but I thought I was the only one who saw it. Deek was intuitive. His mom was a psychic and friends with South Cove’s only fortune teller, my neighbor, Esmeralda. “And why do you say that?”
“Don’t play coy with me. She brightens up when she talks about spending time with him. And don’t tell me it’s because she loves serving God. I mean, yeah, there’s some of that, but she wants that guy. I watch her every Sunday before, during, and after service. She’s by his side, at his beck and call. Personally, I think it sets a bad example. She should be a little less available.” He took Sadie’s cup and plate and rinsed them to put into the dishwasher.
“You have good instincts, Deek.” Of course, I agreed with him about Sadie and the preacher on all counts.
“Now, your aunt on the other hand plays it a little too cool. Man, that train guy is all bent out of shape.” Deek held out his hands. “I can see their auras and they are both hurting.”
“Is that true?”
Deek looked at me funny. “Is what true?”
“That you can see auras.” He’d told me before that he didn’t have any psychic ability even though his mother was a practicing fortuneteller. And now he was throwing around words like auras?
“Don’t over think it. It’s just a way of saying I can see they’re both miserable without each other. Why did your aunt break it off?” He leaned closer, hoping to learn the answer.
The bell over the
door rang and a couple came into the store. He beelined to the coffee bar, but she stopped and scanned the bookshelves.
“That is the million-dollar question. Can you handle them? I’ve got some paperwork I need to get done.” I picked up my cup and plate and moved around to the back of the bar. As I refilled my cup with more caffeine than I knew was good for me, I heard Deek greet the man.
“So what can I pour you while you’re shopping for your next great read? I bet you enjoy the international thrillers. You have the look of a spy.”
Smiling, I left Deek to his magic skill of reading people to know just what they needed to hear to increase their purchases. He was so good at it that I caught myself being woven into his web when he wanted something, and I knew I was being played. Maybe he did have a gift. I sat down at the desk and pulled out my aunt’s calendar. Flipping to the back, I found what I’d been looking for. Her doctor’s name and phone number. I just looked up my doctor online when I needed to call for an appointment. My aunt had a written name and phone number section in the back of a paper planner. And she’d had to paste pages she’d copied from an old address book she’d had for years.
Talk about old school. I dialed the number and when a receptionist answered, I asked for an appointment.
“What is this regarding?”
She didn’t seem surprised when I said I needed to talk about Jackie Ekroth. “Tell Dr. Stephens that I’m her niece and I need to find out what was going on with her.”
“You can come by tomorrow at one. He’ll be on his lunch break so he’ll need to eat while you talk.”
I was surprised at the speed of the appointment. And that the woman hadn’t given her any grief about privacy laws. “I’ll be there. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. Dr. Stephens told me to bring you in last week. I just haven’t been able to find time to track down your number. As your aunt’s next of kin, you really should keep that information updated.” She paused. “Don’t forget to bring a copy of your health care POA. We’ll need to make a copy before you start talking.”
I thanked her again for the appointment, then sat looking at the phone. Something bad was going on. I could feel it. Why would her doctor want to talk to me? I rubbed my face and then realized only one thing could make me feel better. I picked up my cell and dialed a number from memory.
“Hi. Do you want to meet at Diamond Lille’s for lunch?”
Love Lynn Cahoon?
There’s lots more where this came from!
Be sure to check out all her series
The Tourist Trap Mysteries
The Cat Latimer Mysteries
And
The Farm-to-Fork Mysteries
Available wherever books are sold
Guidebook to Murder
A Tourist Trap Mystery
In the gentle coastal town of South Cove, California, all Jill Gardner wants is to keep her store—Coffee, Books, and More—open and running. So why is she caught up in the business of murder?
When Jill’s elderly friend, Miss Emily, calls in a fit of pique, she already knows the city council is trying to force Emily to sell her dilapidated old house. But Emily’s gumption goes for naught when she dies unexpectedly and leaves the house to Jill—along with all of her problems…and her enemies. Convinced her friend was murdered, Jill is finding the list of suspects longer than the list of repairs needed on the house. But Jill is determined to uncover the culprit—especially if it gets her closer to South Cove’s finest, Detective Greg King. Problem is, the killer knows she’s on the case—and is determined to close the book on Jill permanently…
Who Moved My Goat Cheese
A Farm-to-Fork Mystery
Angie Turner hopes her new farm-to-table restaurant can be a fresh start in her old hometown in rural Idaho. But when a goat dairy farmer is murdered, Angie must turn the tables on a bleating black sheep . . .
With three weeks until opening night for their restaurant, the County Seat, Angie and her best friend and business partner Felicia are scrambling to line up local vendors—from the farmer’s market to the goat dairy farm of Old Man Moss. Fortunately, the cantankerous Moss takes a shine to Angie, as does his kid goat Precious. So when Angie hears the bloodcurdling news of foul play at the dairy farm, she jumps in to mind the man’s livestock and help solve the murder. One thing’s for sure, there’s no whey Angie’s going to let some killer get her goat…
A Story to Kill
A Cat Latimer Mystery
Former English professor Cat Latimer is back in Colorado, hosting writers’ retreats in the big blue Victorian she’s inherited, much to her surprise, from none other than her carousing ex-husband! Now it’s an authors’ getaway—but Cat won’t let anyone get away with murder…
The bed-and-breakfast is open for business, and bestselling author Tom Cook is among its first guests. Cat doesn’t know why he came all the way from New York, but she’s glad to have him among the quirkier—and far less famous—attendees.
Cat’s high school sweetheart, Seth, who’s fixing up the weathered home, brings on mixed emotions for Cat…some of them a little overpowering. But it’s her uncle, the local police chief, whom she’ll call for help when there’s a surprise ending for Tom Cook in his cozy guest room. Will a killer have the last word on the new life Cat has barely begun?