Scornful Scones

by Mildred Abbott

  I paused for a moment, Watson once more straining on his leash, ready to go. Carl and Anna weren’t necessarily a bad idea. Even if they hadn’t heard the rumors the high school kids spread about Nick, it sounded like there was also plenty of gossip about his family. Maybe that would offer some insight.

  There I went again, not trusting my gut. If I didn’t think it was Nick, then why would I need to get into whatever drama his family might be involved in?

  Unless he was the one being set up, not Carla.

  Even as I rejected speaking to the Hansons, my gaze wandered over to Paws.

  There. That’s where I should go. The possibility of the town council being the target seemed like a legitimate option, and Paulie had enough negative interactions with the group of them that he might have a lead he didn’t even realize he possessed.

  I glanced both ways along the street, lucked out with a large gap between traffic, and hurried across with Watson by my side. “You’re going to hate me for this. But I bet you’ll get a treat out of it.”

  Even as we sprinted across, he gave a little hop at his most beloved word, but his cheerful expression fell as we neared the front door of the pet shop and he cast accusatory brown eyes up at me.

  “I know, I warned you. You’re going to hate me.” I pointed my finger down at him. “Behave, be nice. If you have to bite one of them, at least do it where Paulie doesn’t see.” Right, because giving Watson directives always worked.

  The door had barely closed behind us when barking chaos erupted from somewhere in the back. Watson instantly slunk behind my legs.

  Like warring tumbleweeds, Flotsam and Jetsam stampeded from one of the aisles and barreled our way.

  Proving just how much I loved my little man, and how guilty I felt for putting him through another interaction with the two corgis, I knelt to the floor just in time to intercept the dogs, and was nearly bowled over by the impact of puppy paws, tongues, and friendly nips.

  Even though he’d been spared, for the moment, Watson gave a warning growl.

  “Whoa! I could barely see behind the tornado of dog hair!” Paulie emerged the way of his corgis, and the beaming expression on his face matched Flotsam and Jetsam’s enthusiasm. “Talk about my lucky week. Nice to see you again so soon.”

  He hadn’t been kidding about the dog hair. Every once in a while, I played with the idea of getting a brother or sister for Watson, even though I knew he was just an excuse. I would be the one wanting a second dog. Watson would be irritated that he was no longer king of the castle. But my life was already filled with too much corgi hair the way it was; this was a good reminder.

  Mentally apologizing to Watson, I managed to extricate myself from Flotsam and Jetsam’s affections and stood, trying to clear the dog hair away from my eyes.

  Watson darted under my skirt, which created an even more enjoyable scenario for Paulie’s corgis.

  Just when I thought I was on the verge of a wardrobe malfunction, Paulie clapped his hands loudly. “Boys! Treats!”

  Flotsam and Jetsam rocketed away as Paulie hurried behind the counter and got some large green dog bones from a bin.

  Watson peered out from underneath my skirt, clearly debating if he valued his love of food or hermit status more. Paulie waved one of the green bones in his direction. “Got one for you too, Watson!” And the decision was made.

  The bones were substantial, and I hoped Flotsam and Jetsam would be distracted for long enough that by the time they were finished, the novelty of Watson’s presence would’ve worn off.

  “Sorry about that, Fred. My boys are a little enthusiastic, as you know.” He sighed and leaned against the counter. “What brings you in? I know you said Watson isn’t doing the dog food.” His tone grew wary. “More questions about Athena?”

  “No. Not exactly. I was hoping to get some specifics about your experiences with the town council.”

  “Sure. Anything I can do to help.” He sounded relieved and sighed again.

  Actually, as I crossed the space, with the bubbling and hum of fish tanks in the back and the chirping of birds from the cages surrounding us, I realized he seemed a little more than relieved. He looked exhausted, even thinner than normal, with dark circles under his eyes. I hadn’t noticed him being so worn out when I’d seen him at Aspen Grove. I placed my hand over his as I reached him and was pleasantly surprised to find that I felt genuine concern. Like I would for a friend. Maybe we’d finally crossed that line. Genuinely. “Are you okay? You look tired.”

  Paulie stared down at our hands, blinked rapidly, and sniffed. When he met my gaze, there was a sheen in his eyes, but the smile he gave lessened his apparent exhaustion. “I’m okay. Thank you for asking.”

  I patted his hand before releasing it. “Are you sure? You don’t have to be okay.”

  He was close to tears, but he straightened, and though his tone didn’t harden, I saw a wall go up behind his eyes I hadn’t seen before. “I do appreciate it. But I’m okay, or I will be.” Even with the wall, his smile was sincere. “You mentioned the town council? Anything specific, or do you just want me to give an exhaustive list of grievances I have with them?”

  I was a little surprised about how concerned I truly was about Paulie. Clearly, something was wrong, but part of friendship was giving space and not pressuring. “Well, if you’re sure you’re up for it, whatever you want to share would be great. I know you said when you moved to town they gave you a hard time around opening your business. That you felt it was because you weren’t a local.”

  He nodded. “Yeah. From what I’ve heard, that’s not too unusual for a lot of the businesses moving to town.” He shrugged his thin shoulders. “Although it does seem to matter what type of business it is and who the new person is. If they measure up to the standard.”

  “What standard?”

  Another shrug. He seemed to struggle to find words and then shrugged again. “For lack of a better term, Fred, it’s basically the cool factor. High school all over again. You’re either one of the cool kids or you’re not. I never was. I never will be.” He smiled sadly but sounded resigned. “I’m okay with that. Although I will say, it’s a little more frustrating when trying to operate a business than it was in high school. And every bit as lonely. But I’m one of the lucky ones. Sergeant Wexler helped clear the way for me. Not everyone has that. And even with him, the council balked.”

  Paulie had said enough in the past that it was clear he and Branson had a mixed history. They obviously didn’t like each other, yet from time to time there were comments like that—where it seemed Paulie felt he owed Branson.

  “Sergeant Wexler went to bat for you when he doesn’t others?”

  Again Paulie struggled for words. “I know you and Branson have a relationship. I want to help you however I can, but I’d rather keep Branson out of it, if you don’t mind.”

  “Sure. No pressure to tell me anything you’re not comfortable with.” I didn’t feel like it had anything to do with what was going on with Carla, but there was definitely something there. And whether Paulie and I had an actual friendship or not, I wanted to know what it was.

  Before I could figure out how to start again, there were several loud yips, a clattering of claws, and a loud metallic clang, followed by the screeching of a parrot.

  “Flotsam! Jetsam! Come!” Paulie clapped his hands again.

  Though they didn’t obey his command, there was another yip, and things quieted down.

  Watson arrived at my feet from the opposite direction, so at least he hadn’t been involved in whatever occurred. He slunk under my skirt once more, and I felt him curl up, resting his head on my boot.

  Paulie refocused on me. “Where would you like me to start?”

  It was a good question. I had no answer.

  Friendship being new or not, I trusted Paulie. Had ever since he helped when Watson had been hurt around Christmas. He also had never given me any indication that he took part in the gossip. Granted, with his limited soc
ial engagement, that probably wasn’t much of an option for him. I decided to take him into my confidence. “I’m wondering if Eustace’s and Sally’s deaths might indicate a larger pattern. Since they were both part of the town council. With a group that, like you’ve said, have made it miserable for a lot of new people in town—and some old ones from what I’ve heard—that maybe someone thought it was time for a change in power.”

  His bloodshot eyes widened, and there was a flash of interest. “You think somebody might be working their way through the town council?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just a theory.”

  “I heard they arrested one of Carla’s baristas.” There was another commotion in the back, followed by a bark. He paused, but when it quieted down, he refocused on me. “You’re not convinced.”

  “No. I’m not. I’m not saying it’s definitely about the town council either, but maybe. Sounds like they’ve made a lot of enemies.”

  “They aren’t all bad, so I hope you’re wrong. Elmer Walton, the guy who operates Chipmunk Mountain, really took me under his wing when I got into town. It just seems like the louder voices on that council are the meanest.” He leaned a little closer, his voice lowering as if Flotsam and Jetsam or the birds, fish, and array of rodents might overhear. “If they are going through the town council, they’re going to have to start over. Ethel has already taken Eustace’s place.”

  Maybe Paulie was a little more involved in the gossip around town than I thought. It took me a second to place Ethel’s name, but when I did, it gave me a little jolt. “Eustace’s wife? She just slid in and took his spot?”

  He nodded.

  “Aren’t those elected positions? Surely she can’t just decide to take it over.”

  “Pretty sure she can. At least the way it seems like the town council works. Maybe there’s a loophole if someone dies in between election cycles.”

  That seemed revolting. “Someone should contact a lawyer. From what you said, it sounds like Gerald Jackson isn’t afraid to take them on.” I couldn’t believe those words had just come out of my mouth. He was the worst excuse for a lawyer I’d ever seen.

  Paulie scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Gerald does what he can, but Sally’s husband, Colin, is a lawyer too. Gerald was able to help Athena in her fight with Eustace, but if it hadn’t been for Colin, she would’ve gotten her job back. I’m sure Sally’s husband has made certain every I is dotted and every T is crossed with Ethel replacing Eustace on the council.”

  “Sally Apple was married to a lawyer?”

  “Yeah.” He nodded. “Colin Apple.”

  “And he’s part of the reason Athena didn’t get her position back as restaurant reviewer at the paper, even though she clearly had legal standing to fight Eustace?”

  “Yes. It’s only thanks to Gerald that she got what she has now. In fact—” His words broke off, and this time when the wall shot back up behind his eyes, there was a coldness to him.

  Clearly, he’d realized where my mind had already gone.

  “Fred, I know how that sounded. You can’t think that. Athena is wonderful. She would never hurt anyone.”

  The cards were stacking against her, though. The first victim was the one who had taken away her dream job and probably lorded it over her as much as he could at work, and the second was one who’d discriminated against her granddaughter and was married to a lawyer who was part of her not being allowed to live her passion. A lawyer who more than likely protected his wife when complaints were made about her treatment of students.

  Maybe this had nothing to do with the town council after all, just two of its more insidious members.

  And… maybe…Colin Apple was about to get a poisonous scone of his own.

  “Fred.” Paulie’s sharp tone brought me back to the moment. “It’s not Athena. It isn’t.”

  I didn’t want it to be, either. I agreed with Katie. I liked her. In many ways I admired her. I tried to get a read on my gut, my instinct about her, but couldn’t either way.

  “Fred. It really isn’t Athena. She’s an amazing woman and a wonderful friend. She’d never hurt anyone.” Paulie muttered a little curse and seemed close to tears again, though these were different than the first. “Me and my big mouth. I just said it wrong. I’m making it sound worse than what it is.” He shook his head. “No more. I just keep making it worse and worse.” He leveled his stare at me, and even before he spoke, I could see that the words cost him. “I think you need to go, Fred. Sorry. But… please leave.”

  Athena swiveled in her chair and smiled as I knocked on her office door at The Chipmunk Chronicles. As the other times I’d seen her, she was magazine-cover perfect. Makeup flawless, she somehow made a startling pink-and-yellow suit look timeless and elegant. If I would’ve attempted such an outfit, people would’ve thought it was Halloween. “Winifred Page and Watson. I must admit, when the receptionist said you were here, I was surprised. I wasn’t expecting you until this afternoon.” She bent forward slightly and offered an outstretched hand to Watson.

  He entered the office, touched his nose to her skin, and allowed himself to be stroked.

  “I suppose Paulie called you last night?” I’d anticipated as much.

  She straightened and smoothed out her already smooth skirt. “That he did. The poor boy was a mess, thinking he’d implicated me in unseemly activities.” She actually grinned as she gestured toward the seat I’d occupied before. “Come on in, Fred. No need to play games. We both know why you’re here.”

  I followed her directive. Though I’d figured Paulie had given her a warning call, I hadn’t been certain of what sort of welcome I might get when I dropped in. I handed her a small paper box with the Cozy Corgi logo on the top. I’d had Katie prepare an assortment. “Just in case you haven’t had breakfast.”

  She lifted one of her perfectly sculpted brows. “Bribery?” She lifted the lid, took a deep breath, and sighed. “I accept. That business partner of yours knows what she’s doing.”

  “Yes, she does.” I wasn’t sure how to respond to the bribery comments so I jumped over it.

  “She can say the same. You know what you’re doing too, Fred.” Athena shut the pastry box and placed it on the other side of her desk. “Let’s get to it. Are you going with questioning or accusation?”

  I’d been wondering the same. “As you said, you know why I’m here, so why don’t you tell me.”

  Her cranberry smile grew, and she glanced at Watson. “Does your mama always play such games?”

  Watson cocked his head quizzically in her direction.

  Chuckling, she looked back at me. “You suspect me of killing people, Fred. I’m hardly going to make it easy for you. It’s a rather insulting thought, don’t you agree? You might as well have the audacity to come out and say it.”

  “I don’t know what I think, to be honest.” I appreciated she was the kind to not play games, to go with the straightforward approach. However, maybe the straightforward approach was, in and of itself, a game. I didn’t think I had another option than playing along. “I like you. For several reasons, some I can’t quite label. But one of them is that you seem strong, determined—maybe part of that is enacting revenge when you’ve been wronged. Obviously, I don’t know you well, but you don’t seem to be the type to allow yourself to be told what to do.” I gestured around the small office. “But here you are, writing obituaries.”

  “You’ve got my number there, honey. And don’t you forget it. No one tells Athena Rose what she can or can’t do.” She paused, eyes sparkling in a way that confirmed we were playing a game after all. “But in case you haven’t noticed, Eustace Beaker has been dead for more than a hot minute, and I’m still here writing obituaries. If I killed him to get my old job back, why would I still be here?”

  “Because it was never about you. Maybe it was never about power plays, punishments, or obituaries.” If Athena had killed Eustace and Sally, I was certain I was right about the why. “And while I do believe that no one t
ells you what to do, I bet that’s doubly so for your granddaughter.” No, I wasn’t sure if she’d killed, but I could see her doing it. Even at her age and delicate stature, the woman radiated power.

  Her eyes widened, ever so slightly, revealing that she hadn’t expected that. “You are good at snooping, aren’t you? And I mean that as a compliment. Truly. You would make one bang-up reporter.” She let out a long breath, and her gaze hardened somewhat. “Let me tell you something about my granddaughter. Odessa is not a victim. Did we lose a battle about that stupid valedictorian garbage? Yes. Though it burns me to admit, we did. But I’m thankful for it.” She leaned forward slightly and tapped the desk with a french-tipped nail. “She was already a fighter, just like her grandmother, but that event made it even more true. She would’ve been successful either way, but that lit a fire under her. Now if you flew your sweet little butt to New York City this afternoon, you’d have to pay one hundred and fifty dollars to sit in a seat just to watch her sing and perform. And she’s not some backup, not part of some ensemble cast, no ma’am.” She shook her head and gave a little hum of pride. “She’s the star of the whole show.”

  We stared at each other, and she communicated just as strongly in the silence as she had with words. We might be playing a game together, she and I, but there was no playing around with Athena Rose.

  She tapped the desk again, nodded, and sat back. “I’ll tell you just as plain as I did the other day. I won’t shed a tear that Sally Apple is no longer with us. Just like with Eustace, the world’s better off without them. But just like so many horrible things in life, I’m thankful for them. They made us stronger. They applied the pressure to turn coal into diamonds. And we shine, Odessa and I. We shine.”

  I had no argument there. Neither could I find any words.

  Her phone beeped on her desk, and Athena continued her measuring gaze of me for several more moments, allowing it to beep a few more times before finally turning away and lifting the receiver. “Yes?”