Savage Sourdough

by Mildred Abbott

  “Glinda.” Susan scoffed. “Just as big a freak as my brother. But at least she knows a home-wrecker when she sees one.”

  I had known that term would show up. “From what I understand, Sammy didn’t begin dating your brother until he and his wife were separated.”

  “Separated.” More finger jamming. “You said it yourself, wife. Even if they were separated, Mark is still married. And a father of four. And while my brother might be a moron playing dress-up all day, my nephews and nieces don’t deserve this heartache, don’t deserve to have their father leave them for some idiot baker twenty years younger than himself.”

  As she spoke, Susan’s anger grew, but I could quite literally feel it switch targets. No longer aimed at me, but Mark. All in all, though it said horrible things about me, it might’ve been the first time I saw her as human. It was clear in that one sentence how much she loved Mark’s children.

  “I didn’t know Sammy was dating… or whatever… your brother.” I grimaced. “Obviously, even if I did, that was her personal life and I had no say in it. Even so, I wasn’t aware of anything that was going on outside of the shop. And I don’t blame you for being upset.”

  She flinched, blinked, and her shoulders slumped. After a second, she lifted the cup to her lips and took a sip. “It’s not complete swill.”

  I nearly laughed and was oddly relieved that she still sounded like herself. “Thanks. That’s why I leave the baking and anything food related to Katie and… to Katie.” I followed Susan’s lead and took a sip of my tea. It was much better than swill. We studied each other for a few moments, and it almost wasn’t uncomfortable. “Is that it? You’re here to bark and growl and scare me away from your brother? We both know I haven’t done anything illegal. If I had, you would’ve shown up here in uniform with handcuffs or something.”

  “True story.” The corner of her lip actually twitched. “And remember that. You’re an annoying, entitled snot, but you’re right. So far you’ve done nothing illegal. But I’m waiting.”

  My hackles rose at the list of insults, but then I realized where they led. “So, you don’t actually consider me a suspect in Sammy’s murder?”

  Another of her trademark eye rolls. “Of course not. You’re not an idiot.”

  I laughed. And strangely a tingle of warmth flitted through me for her. Never thought that would happen. “From you, that’s almost a compliment.”

  She shrugged one shoulder. “For you, that’s about as close as you’ll get.”

  “What is it really?” I decided to test my luck. “Why do you hate me? Is it because of Branson or because of my parents?”

  Susan bristled, and I knew I’d pushed too far. “I don’t care about who Branson dates. I don’t know if you think I have some stupid schoolgirl crush on him, but I assure you, I don’t. He’s a lousy cop and a worse sergeant. Like I said before, the way he deals with you is more than enough proof of that.”

  She stood, towering over me. Though I didn’t think she would hurt me, I felt the threat from her I didn’t feel from her brother earlier in the day.

  “Don’t get me wrong when I say Mark is an idiot. He is. A man in his forties who dresses up like a wizard, goes to the park to play Quidditch on a stupid broomstick, is like a moronic ten-year-old. But he is my brother. And he works hard and has put his heart and soul into that magic shop. Your parents have made it a nightmare. Constantly late on everything, always slow to repair what’s broken, or fixing the wrong thing while breaking something else. Never having a solitary clue what’s going on outside of their own cotton-candy heads. The one thing they’re sure of? That nothing’s for sale. Mark has no chance to own his own property. They refused to sell, and the second something else comes on the market, your stepfather swoops in and purchases it before anyone else can sneeze. He owns over half of the town, getting richer and richer while the rest of us struggle to get by. He can flit around all he wants in his stupid hippie-dippy tie-dye and yoga pants, but he’s no better than a cutthroat landlord in New York City, strangling the life out of everyone near him.” She cast a dismissive wave in my direction. “You’re just like him. You’re just more proof of it all. That taxidermy’s shop sat empty for months. Any of the other storeowners could’ve purchased it, gotten it going, built the store of their dreams, but no, he had to hold on to it for his daughter. His stepdaughter… from the city who already had her big old business, trucks full of money, and thought she was on her way out to open a bookshop. You weren’t even certain you were coming, and yet Barry was holding it for you. And don’t lie to me; I know who you are and where you come from. I know about your publishing company, all of it. You don’t need that store to survive. It’s just a plaything you dreamed up, something you thought would be fun. Nothing but a toy, a life-size dollhouse for you to dress up and try on a new persona. And when you get tired of it? And trust me, you will. I give you one more season and you’ll be gone, then you’ll go away, and your idiot stepfather will hike up the rent and refuse to sell.”

  She’d gotten loud, loud enough that I couldn’t hear Watson growling until she paused for breath. I knew Susan didn’t like me, and I even knew why, at least partially, but from the look in her eyes and the way she held her strong body in my tiny kitchen, it was perfectly clear she despised me so much more than I actually thought. So much so, that I couldn’t even find the words to defend myself or my family.

  Just when I was about to stand, to at least feel on equal footing with her, I thought I saw a tear glistening in the corner of her eye.

  Maybe Susan felt it. If so, it caused her temper to spike again, but this time, when she spoke, the words were quiet and sounded so much more dangerous. “I will figure out who killed Sammy. Stay out of it.” She stepped away from the table and began to leave the kitchen, but paused and looked back at me once more. “And stay away from my family.”

  Katie was back to coming into the Cozy Corgi in the wee hours of the morning to get started on the day’s baking. It was a bit surreal walking up the stairs to greet her and get my morning dirty chai. From the second I opened the door, it was obvious she was there. The warmth of the smells, the pleasant sound of her baking. It made me wonder how I hadn’t noticed instantly the morning I’d discovered Sammy.

  “With two days away, I’m a little low on stock. Hopefully we’re not slammed and I run out of baked goods.” Katie’s curly hair was wilder than normal, and dark circles added an exhausted depth to her brown eyes. “I spent a lot of yesterday evening baking bread at home. It’s my go-to comfort activity. So, I’m pretty well stocked on that.” She slid a plate with the thick slice of lightly toasted and buttered bread across the counter. “This is my sourdough recipe. It’s to die for. At least have enough—” Her expression went slack, and she covered her mouth with her fingers. “I can’t believe I just said that.”

  “It’s just an expression.” Even so, my gaze darted to where I’d found Sammy on the floor.

  Katie looked as well. “I know the police department gave it the all clear, but should we have waited a few more days, maybe a week? Out of respect?”

  “I was wondering that myself. I’m not really sure.” I shrugged. “The decision’s done now, and while I could use the time to try to figure out what happened to Sammy, honestly, I’m glad to be back. And I hope we are busy. I’d like my mind to shut off for a while.” I lifted the perfectly browned piece of warm toast and bit into the crunchy, buttery slice of heaven. I didn’t attempt to keep from groaning, then tore off a small wedge and tossed it to Watson. He seemed to enjoy it as much as he did anything. He might be a voracious eater, but he most definitely wasn’t discerning, unless it came to actual dog food. “Katie, I want this every day for the rest of my life.”

  She finally cracked a smile. “Good. That’s easy enough to provide.” Her smile faltered again. “Same here. I was finally turning my attention to more of the breads and savory items while Sammy took charge of all the rest. I’m still going to find a way to make that hap
pen.”

  In the few minutes we had left, I filled Katie in on my conversation with Susan the night before. I downplayed its effect on me, though I wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like I couldn’t trust Katie or that she wouldn’t understand. But I couldn’t shake the feeling of embarrassment or shame that Susan had left me with.

  Thankfully, at least for my brain’s sake, we were even busier than the grand opening. True to form, people followed the scent of scandal. Katie was completely sold out of products, pastries and bread included, before noon. People didn’t seem to mind. They stayed for coffee and gossip and speculation.

  As per normal, the bookshop portion wasn’t nearly as busy as Katie’s bakery, but enough. While Watson napped in his place in the sunlight, I had a steady stream of customers. I got the sense that many of them were simply trying to be supportive. Letting us know that they didn’t blame Katie or me for the latest murder, and they didn’t hold it against the Cozy Corgi either. Whatever the reason, I appreciated it. I was, for once, thrilled that I didn’t have an opportunity to cozy up by the fire and read. With the janky state of my thoughts, even a book wouldn’t have provided sanctuary.

  Katie might feel guilty about opening the bakery so soon after Sammy’s murder, but I was battling with a different type of guilt. Though Sammy was a thread that ran through it all, I should have been focused on her. Replaying the bits of conversation with my uncles, Glinda, Mark, and Susan might give some hidden clue to who was after Sammy. Instead, it was what Susan had said about my family that was stuck on repeat.

  I knew firsthand that Mom and Barry were far from ideal landlords. Never mean or cruel, nothing like that. They were both good, kind, loving people. But if you didn’t have the filter of love that comes with being their family, I would imagine they were much more than irksome. Even when I first came into town, Mom had given me the wrong codes and keys to get into the properties. Nothing big, but day in and day out, when every small project became a huge ordeal, that could make a person murderous, or at the very least resentful.

  I was also aware that Barry owned a lot of the property around town. Some he’d inherited from his parents, others he’d gradually accumulated over the years. Even so, I never thought of them as rich. Stable, not living paycheck to paycheck, but not rich; they didn’t live a lavish lifestyle. But Susan had a point. With all the properties Barry owned, and with the income from monthly rents, he had to be rich, even if he didn’t flaunt it. That wealth was demonstrated by the twins’ assumptions that Barry was simply going to buy the old candy stores on either side of my bookshop, if he could get the Garble sisters to agree.

  Maybe guilt was the appropriate response, maybe it wasn’t. I couldn’t tell. Nothing bad or wrong was happening, but for the first time, I understood why Susan felt the way she did about me. Even where she wasn’t correct. The Cozy Corgi was much more than a whim and most definitely not something I’d be walking away from, but her perspective was easy to understand. I could only imagine how frustrating it would be to see your brother try to buy a property year after year, and then have the daughter of the landlord sweep in without a second thought and live Mark’s dream so easily. Whatever had sparked between Branson and me was simply the cherry on top.

  By the time the day was done, I had no new theories as to what happened to Sammy. I’d made excellent sales, but that was it. On the one hand, maybe that was enough. I was supposed to be a bookseller, not run around investigating murders. But, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was shirking my responsibilities somehow.

  Katie slipped her arm into mine as we walked out and stepped onto the sidewalk. The day had been bright and warm, and though there wasn’t much sunlight left, there was no breeze, so jackets and gloves were sufficient to be comfortable. “You’re still beating yourself up over the things Susan said, aren’t you?”

  During a break from customers in the bookshop, I’d wandered up to the bakery, almost using Katie as a priest, hoping that baring my soul would provide relief. And it had, somewhat.

  “That obvious?”

  She just patted my hand. “Why don’t we take a walk? You need to clear your thoughts, and Watson’s been cooped up in the store all day. I’m sure he could use some playtime.” Katie glanced around me toward Watson trotting along on the other side. “What do you say, boy? Want to go catch an elk?”

  Watson cocked his head but didn’t offer any more reaction.

  “That’ll be the day.” I chuckled at the thought of Watson lumbering after a herd of elk. “Although, corgis were bred to be herding dogs, so I suppose it’s possible.”

  “I’m pretty sure Watson would have a different take on that.” Katie kept her arm linked through mine as we walked past the stores and headed toward the river walk. “I wish you hadn’t been as busy in the bookshop today. It was gossip central in the bakery. I bet you would’ve picked up on much more than I did.”

  With that, Katie managed to do what I’d been incapable of all day. All guilt and thoughts of my family vanished. “Why? What did you pick up on?”

  “That’s what I’m saying. Not much. I barely had two seconds to breathe while I tried to serve customers and bake at the same time.”

  Disappointment flitted through me. “Oh. I thought maybe you had a new lead. Granted, I wasn’t much use to Sammy’s case today, either. I’m exactly where I was yesterday.”

  Sure enough, as we neared the river and found some large smooth stones to sit on, a small herd of elk approached the water from the other side. Watson merely sat up and watched with interest, not letting loose a bark or even a whine.

  Maybe a walk was what I’d needed all day. Just being by the river was healing, and when combined with the wildlife and the rugged snowcapped mountains that enclosed us, it was as magical as ever.

  We watched the elk for several moments, and then Katie turned to me. “I didn’t get any more leads, but I do have a theory about why Sammy was at the bakery at night.”

  And just like that, the elk were forgotten. I refocused on Katie, giving her my full attention. “You do?”

  She nodded. “Alex came in. He works at Twin Owl Scoops. Remember him?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know if I met him before.” The ice cream shop was a couple of doors down from the Cozy Corgi and named after a massive rock formation which looked like two nesting owls, that were currently looking down on us across the valley on the opposite mountain ridge. Petra, who owned the ice cream parlor, was another shop owner who no longer wanted me in her store. She’d gotten into some trouble during the last murder I solved.

  “It doesn’t matter whether you know Alex. That’s beside the point.” Katie’s brows rose as her voice grew more emphatic. “He said that he noticed Sammy coming in very late in the evenings, several times over the past couple of weeks.”

  “That’s odd. Maybe she and Mark were meeting there? Although that doesn’t make sense. Why not just get together at his magic shop?” Even as I said it, my brain argued against it. “Although, I suppose we don’t really know what Mark’s separation from his wife looked like. Sometimes couples still share the same house, so maybe when he wasn’t home, she would go looking for him. It probably wouldn’t be good for her to find him and Sammy at Alakazam.”

  “No, I don’t think that’s it, though I wondered that myself. Alex said he never saw anyone else with her.” Katie chewed her lip for second. “Honestly, I don’t think it tells us too much. At least about her murder. I had noticed that my supplies were dwindling faster than I anticipated, but I chalked it up to us selling more than predicted. Which was true, but still doesn’t account for all the ingredients we were tearing through.” She shrugged. “My guess is that she was simply coming in to bake, on her own time. She truly was obsessive about it. And obviously, a brand-new professional kitchen would be a lot more fun to bake in than whatever she had in her apartment. Not to mention free ingredients.” Katie scrunched up her nose. “That’s awful, isn’t it? Me assuming something like that and she�
��s not even here to defend herself.”

  “No, I think it’s okay. We have to explore every avenue, and it’s not like we aren’t trying to find her some justice. I’d say your theory is right. But I don’t know if it helps us any.” I played the situation like a movie reel through my brain quickly. Seeing Sammy come back into the Cozy Corgi after closing time, baking away for hours. “She stayed active, didn’t she? To be at the bakery so early in the morning while coming in at night to bake on her own time, all the while having an affair with Mark.” I gave a little shake my head. “Goodness, now I sound like Susan. I don’t know what to call it when there’s a separation. Was she having an affair? Was she just dating?”

  Katie seemed to consider. “I don’t think it matters. Especially what we would label it. Although it might matter to whoever killed her.”

  I studied her, considering Katie’s meaning. “You’re thinking Mark’s wife would be the main suspect at the moment?”

  She nodded and gave a partial grin. “Or Susan. Or maybe that witch you met yesterday.”

  “She was a fairy, not a witch.” I laughed and rolled my eyes. “Good grief. This conversation is taking a weird turn when I’m referring to people as witches and fairies and not trying to be ironic.” The image of Susan at my kitchen table flashed in my memory, causing me to grow serious. “Susan didn’t do this. I think she’s actually angry enough to do it, but she didn’t.”

  “You sure that’s not just your guilt talking, which is totally misplaced by the way.” Katie managed to sound skeptical and supportive at the same time. “Granted, you’ve had a few more interactions with Susan than I have, but I find her to be rather vindictive and a miserable person, the kind who enjoys being miserable.”