When I woke an hour and a half later, I almost felt like me again. Then I saw Katie on the other side of the couch, watching TV and stroking Watson’s head, and I felt my eyes sting. Despite only knowing her a few short months, we’d been through a lot together, and not just with the business. She was family already, and I’d known I loved her. But nothing drives home just how much someone truly means to you like almost losing them.
Feeling my attention, she smiled over at me. “I was just about to wake you. We’re supposed to be at your folks’ in about an hour. Wasn’t sure if you wanted to shower or something.”
Since moving back to Estes Park, my family had started having weekly dinners together. I’d spoken to Mom earlier in the day when she’d heard about Sammy and was worried about me. At the time, I’d nearly told her I wouldn’t be attending that evening, but I was glad I hadn’t gone down that route. Surrounding myself with family was exactly what I needed.
My uncles didn’t attend that evening, but everyone else was there. Katie and I sat at the table, flanked by my mom and stepfather, Barry, who was wearing his typical garish ensemble—this time an orange-lime-and-fuchsia spiral tie-dyed T-shirt and more subdued purple-and-gray yoga pants. Beside him sat his twin daughters, Verona and Zelda. Barry hadn’t even been aware he had children until they were adults, but now that they had found each other, they were a testament to nature versus nurture, both Verona and Zelda inherited most of Barry’s idiosyncrasies. Next came their twin husbands, Jonah and Noah. My four step nieces and nephews rounded out the table.
Watson was curled under Barry’s chair, as he seemed to think Barry was some sort of deity.
As always with family dinners, Mom and Barry’s house was overrun with noise, laughter, and bickering. The sounds of family. So very different from the quiet meals of my childhood with just Mom, Dad, and me, but something I’d grown accustomed to. And something, on this particular evening, that acted like a healing balm. Hopefully Katie felt the same.
“So, Fred….” Zelda took a large helping of the chicken cacciatore—Mom had used a meatless chicken this time due to Barry’s vegetarianism; she often made a meat dish for the rest of us, but not always—before passing it to her dad and leveling her gaze on me across the table. “I don’t mean to be crass, but I just want to know. I feel like we’re all beating around the bush. Are we allowed to talk about what happened at your bookshop, or are we pretending for this evening that it didn’t happen?”
Beside her, Verona nodded. “I was just about to ask that very same thing.”
“Girls, goodness!” Mom shook her head at them, then rubbed her silver temples.
Barry finished serving out his own heaping portion and shrugged. “I was wondering as well. I was going to wait till dessert, but let’s face facts; we’re all thinking it. And if we’re sitting here, trying to keep from saying or thinking things we all want to be saying or thinking, it will spoil dinner.” He gave me a wink. “And this poor meatless chicken will have died in vain.”
I’d never begrudged Mom getting remarried to her childhood sweetheart after my father passed, even if it had seemed quick. But things had always been rather stiff between Barry and me. Since moving to Estes, however, that had disappeared. “We can talk about it.” I checked with Katie. “Unless you’d rather not?”
“No, I’m fine with it. It’s not like anyone’s going to talk about anything else for the next month every time they come into the bakery.” She cast a glance toward the end of the table where my nephews and nieces sat. “Although, maybe we should wait? We will be discussing murder, after all.”
Verona and Jonah had two boys, Ocean and Leaf, fourteen and eight respectively. Zelda and Noah had two girls, Britney and Christina, also fourteen and eight.
“It’s not the 1950s, Miss Katie. We’ll be fine.” Ocean’s tone had a hint of teenage dismissiveness to it.
“And we’ve kinda gotten used to murder over the past few months.” Britney sounded almost identical to her cousin.
Both their younger brother and sister nodded emphatically.
“Well, that’s a sad state of affairs.” Ridiculously, guilt cut through me again. “Officer Green mentioned today that I might be the link between the fresh wave of murders in town.”
“Oh, porcupine feathers.” Barry waved me off. “That’s ridiculous. And the kids are right. I guarantee you, there’s nothing they’ll hear at the table they won’t hear at school. And at least it won’t be conjecture.”
Zelda nodded. “Plus, we’re dying to know. Fill us in.”
I did, and to my surprise, it helped. With Katie by my side as I replayed the morning’s events, it seemed to finally sink in that Katie was okay, that I wasn’t in danger of losing her.
As I spoke, I could feel a sense of calm come back to me. Or at least reason. A state of panic had settled in my gut since I’d stumbled upon Sammy’s body. It appeared to be evaporating. Which was good, both for my sanity and so I didn’t go wandering into Black Bear Roaster to make a fool of myself yet again and, more importantly, so I could be clear-headed enough to figure out what had actually happened to Sammy.
Once I got to the police investigation, Katie began to chime in, helping me with details. Everyone scoffed as she got to the part about Officer Green insinuating I was a suspect.
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Just because Sammy was killed in your shop doesn’t mean you’re a suspect.” Noah scoffed.
His brother nodded. “Exactly. That would be the same thing as suspecting us for killing Declan just because we invented the garland that sort of strangled him.”
I wasn’t sure how sound that logic was, but I wasn’t overly concerned about being a suspect. I had nothing to do with it, and I really doubted Branson would let Susan take it too far.
“Exactly. We don’t need to worry about that. Fred will be fine.” Barry patted my hand, took another bite of meatless chicken cacciatore, and spoke before he finished chewing. “Sammy was that Ripple girl, wasn’t she, Phyllis? We went to school with her grandparents.”
“That’s right.” Though Mom was the exact physical opposite of me—built waif-thin and birdlike—she could give a hard stare when she needed. “And don’t you say what you’re thinking about saying. We talked about this before the kids got here.”
He lifted both of his hands in the air as if in surrender. “I wasn’t about to.” He cocked a brow toward Katie and me. “And I wouldn’t dream of it, at least unsolicited.”
Katie jumped on it. “Why? What do you know about Sammy?”
“Nothing.” Mom patted Katie’s hand. “Trust me, dear, absolutely nothing. Barry is a wonderful man and sees the best in everyone. But every once in a great while, he’ll get something stuck in his craw about someone and not let it go.”
I looked back and forth between Mom and Barry, finally settling on Barry. “What in the world is stuck in your craw about Sammy?”
With a Cheshire cat smile, Barry shrugged at Mom. “Sorry, Phyllis, it’s not my fault the girls are soliciting.”
Mom let out what I was certain she meant to be an annoyed breath, but I could hear the laughter she was suppressing.
Barry launched in. “Mind you, I don’t know Sammy personally.” He grimaced. “Sorry. I didn’t know Sammy personally, but I know what a headache she was for her grandparents. They’d confide in me every once in a while, when we saw each other.”
Mom sucked in a gasp. “Oh my goodness, how did I not even think? Poor Mick and Diane. Whether or not Sammy caused them a headache, they must be absolutely devastated. We should drop by.”
“We will, sweetheart. We’ll take them a casserole or something.” He refocused on me. “Sammy was always very intelligent and very outspoken. Sometimes a little too much. It also seemed like she enjoyed feeling superior. She was constantly accusing teachers of being unfair, sneaking through people’s cabinets and drawers when she babysat their children, and causing problems for the people she worked for.”
“Are you kidding?” I gaped at him and then back at Mom. “How come you didn’t let us know this before Katie hired her?”
“Well, it happened so fast. One day it was just you and Katie, and the next you’d hired Sammy. We didn’t even realize she was back in town until you announced she had joined the team.” Mom patted Katie’s hand once more, though most of her attention remained on me. “By then it was too late. And all that was back when she was in high school. Granted she was nearly finished by the time I moved back here, but still. I figured she’d done some growing up. Everyone deserves a second chance.”
Classic Mom. Even after all those years married to a detective and seeing the worst in people, she still managed to believe in second chances.
Katie patted my mom’s hand right back. “Honestly, it wouldn’t have made any difference. I was completely enamored with Sammy. She was very smart and competent. I was impressed. Even if you’d told me all this, I would’ve agreed. She was hardly still in high school, and”—her tone shifted slightly—“none of us wants to be judged on our pasts.”
I hoped one day Katie would feel safe enough to talk about her own past. Clearly something weighed her down. Maybe several somethings. Still, we needed to focus on Sammy. “Fresh start or not, some of that does sound similar to how Sammy was beginning to act toward you, and even me right at the end.”
Obvious guilt cut across Katie’s face as she nodded. “I know. But I hate to think or say such things now.”
“I’m not saying she was a bad girl or anything.” Barry cut in again, drawing the attention back to himself, thankfully. “She just liked to stir the pot.”
“Anything with Carla?” I decided to cut right to the chase. “When Carla came in screaming yesterday, she was very emphatic that Sammy had wronged her somehow.”
Barry cast a questioning glance toward Mom, who nodded, before he spoke. “Sammy worked at Carla’s coffee shop one summer. The two of them didn’t get along so well. It ended badly. Sammy turned Carla in to the Better Business Bureau for unethical business practices.”
“Really? Carla? And the coffee shop?” Katie shook her head and sounded disbelieving. “I worked there before Christmas, and Carla was no joy, but I wouldn’t say she was unethical.”
“If I recall, it wasn’t about working conditions. It was about the food.” Barry thought for a second. “Oh, right. Carla was claiming all her baked goods were made in-house. They weren’t. She orders them in from somewhere. Sammy turned her in for that.”
Katie and I exchanged meaningful glances. When Katie had worked at Black Bear Roaster, she’d tried to get Carla to add some of Katie’s own homemade creations to her menu. Carla had nearly come undone at the suggestion.
No wonder.
So Carla did have a motive. Maybe a case of revenge that was best served cold? Very cold? I looked toward Mom. “Carla just had the baby yesterday. How long of a recovery do people normally need after giving birth?”
The twins laughed from across the table, not giving Mom a chance to respond. “Are you kidding?” It was Zelda who spoke. “You think Carla, after being miserably overdue, gave birth and in less than half a day felt good enough to take a gun, sneak into your store, and murder Sammy for something she did ages ago?”
Verona shook her blonde head, the only identifiable difference from her twin. “No way. Not that I know Carla all that well, but enough to know she won’t get out of bed for a good two weeks. She’ll have that husband of hers waiting on her hand and foot. Even if she was going to kill Sammy, now wouldn’t be the time.”
Stupidly, disappointment flitted through me. Like it would be that easy. I truly did think I was better at solving murders than the police department, but I wasn’t that good. One suspect and done? Not hardly. Especially such an unlikely suspect. If Carla was going to kill Sammy, she would’ve done it years ago. She most definitely wouldn’t do it hours after giving birth.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I feel like my brain is completely fried—it’s just too much all at once.” It really was. I didn’t feel I could think clearly at all. “First the Garble sisters wanting to buy the shop, bringing back all those memories of Opal and Lois, and then walking in this morning and finding Ka—er… Sammy dead nearly in the exact same spot Opal was killed. Of course Carla didn’t do it.”
Both sets of twins sat up straight and gaped at me. However, it was Barry who spoke. “I hadn’t heard that any Garbles were in town. They must’ve decided who inherited the candy shops?”
I nodded. “Yes, and they’re wanting the Cozy Corgi as well.”
“Dad. We’ve gotta talk to them.” Verona grasped her father’s hand. “This is the perfect time. Zelda and I could open our shop, and Jonah and Noah could open theirs.” She beamed over at me. “Can you imagine? Us on one side of you, and the boys on the other? Wouldn’t that just be wonderful!”
I loved the twins, both sets of them, and my nieces and nephews, I really did. At this point, I truly saw them as family, not just stepfamily. But at the exuberant expressions over all four faces, I suddenly wondered if Regina and Penelope Garble might be easier to deal with.
Since the police were commandeering the Cozy Corgi for one more day, I figured Katie and I would see if we could get other leads to add to the list of people, besides Carla, who might have had it in for Sammy. However, when I woke the next morning, I had a voicemail from Katie. It seemed Carla had a no-call no-show at the Black Bear Roaster. Knowing the bookshop and bakery were closed, she called Katie out of desperation. So Katie was taking her old job back for the day.
I had to listen to the voicemail three times before I actually believed it. I kept waiting to hear Katie cackling at the end. I would’ve predicted that in such an event, Carla would just close the coffee shop. Maybe motherhood was softening her, or hearing that the woman she’d berated had been killed a few hours later. Possibly it was all just a ploy to make herself look more innocent. I shoved the thought away. The twins were right. It didn’t make any sense for Carla to be the guilty party. Well, not just the twins. It seemed I was the only one fixated on Carla as a possible suspect. Which, she wasn’t.
Watson and I stopped at the Black Bear Roaster on our way into town, both to see Katie and so I could have my morning dirty chai. As ever, Watson and I split a scone. The maple pecan variety proved as dry as the others. I’d started to get a chocolate muffin, but upon picking it up, Katie shook her head and suggested another option for the sake of my teeth.
I wasn’t sure where else my investigation might lead, but I knew my first two stops. If anyone knew current gossip about Sammy, it would be my uncles, who ran Victorian Antlers, an antique shop. Or Anna and Carl, who owned a high-end furniture and accessories store called Cabin and Hearth.
Since my uncles had missed the family dinner the night before, they were the lucky winners.
As Watson and I walked up the street to their shop at the other end of the downtown, I was reminded of when I first moved here. Fresh snow was on the ground and over the charming shops that alternated randomly between rustic 1960’s mountain chic and log cabin façades, contrasted by the snowcapped rugged mountains that surrounded Estes Park. It was a picture-perfect little town, the kind where the only thing to worry about would be chipmunks finding their way into your house or running out of hot chocolate. Exactly the life I thought I was stepping into. I never would’ve dreamed most of my trips up and down the shops of Elkhorn Avenue would be to gather gossip about the most recent murder.
I started to call out a greeting as we entered Victorian Antlers, but I was cut short by angry voices.
“You always pooh-pooh everything! No, let’s not go to Disney World. No, we can’t buy the pink Ferrari. No, we can’t skip our Metamucil for an extra glass of champagne.” Percival’s voice trilled from somewhere within the maze of antiques. Though he was my mom’s only sibling, sometimes I wondered if they were truly related. They couldn’t be more different. “You never take any risks. Never have
any fun!”
His husband’s deep voice contrasted Percival’s hysteria with a slow drawl. “We went to Disney fifteen years ago and you got sick on every ride. I’m too tall to fit into a Ferrari comfortably, and without your Metamucil you get cranky.” Gary rounded the corner from behind a large oak showcase but didn’t notice Watson or me. “Speaking of, did you have your Metamucil after we got home last night from the show? It would explain a lot. And as far as risks, talk to me after you spent your career on the football field with eleven massive men running your way and ready to beat you into the ground.”
“Oh sure! Just brag about all the men chasing you around, why don’t you?” Percival came into view, waving his hands. “And so what if I didn’t remember to take my Metamucil. That’s all in your head. In fact I think I’ll quit—” His eyes widened as he noticed me. “Oh! Fred, darling. So good to see you.”
Gary turned around and deflated, looking utterly humiliated.
Percival suffered no such embarrassment. He flounced my way and wrapped his arms around me. “You’re just in time. You can talk Gary into quit being a stick in the mud.” He released me, then knelt his tall lanky frame in a flourish down at Watson, who gave a little growl and backed away. Percival looked up at me, offended. “Your dog is always one second away from a hate crime.”
Still keeping his gaze downcast, Gary knelt beside Percival but moved slowly and gently. Exactly the opposite one would expect from his large ex-football build. While Watson didn’t lose his mind from love like he would with Barry or Leo, he allowed Gary to stroke his fur. “Fred’s told you countless times that you have to be slow with Watson. He’s finicky.” Gary smiled up at me, some of his embarrassment finally fading, and winked. “Just like his uncle.”
Percival tsked and stood back up, then leaned his arm through mine. “Whatever. Sorry we missed family dinner, Fred. I do appreciate you saying that it was still all right to go after all the drama yesterday. We had those tickets to Kinky Boots in Denver for months. Plus, you’ve gotta be completely bored at finding dead bodies at this point.”
Savage Sourdough Page 5