Chapter Seven
After the frustrating exchange with the doorman at the banquet hall, David looked like he needed comfort food just as much as I did. Few words were exchanged as David and I continued making our way to the restaurant.
It didn’t mean that our minds weren’t active. My mind was racing like crazy. I wasn’t alone. There was a faraway look in David’s eyes as he drove. I could practically see the gears spinning in his head. Even more, I had a feeling that our thoughts all centered on the same topic.
Unfortunately, the more I tried to piece together what had just happened back at the banquet hall, the less everything made sense. Why had the doorman been so combative? What was that meeting they were holding? Why were only men in attendance? What was with all the secrecy?
By the time David and I reached the Home Away From Home restaurant, I had gone back and forth so much in my mind that my head began to hurt. Knowing that the answers to my questions would remain elusive, I turned my attention to something I could control— my hunger.
The moment the thought of food entered my brain, it was hard to get it out. My stomach began to rumble. Suddenly, I couldn’t wait to get my meal.
But, considering how crazy the day had gone, it shouldn’t have surprised me when dinner didn’t go according to plan, either. Before my boyfriend and I were even able to be seated at a table, David got a call from work that he had to take. He excused himself while the hostess led me to a table.
The surprises didn’t stop there. Of all the places to be seated in the restaurant, I ended up at a table beside a familiar face.
Andrew Stewart sat all by himself at a corner table. The cherubic fifty-eight-year-old ran the business next door to my family’s coffee shop.
He was the co-owner of a chocolate shop that delighted my taste buds every time I entered. Andrew served the kind of truffles that I could not say no to. Stewart’s shop had mastered chocolate treats so much that I found it hard to stop at just one truffle. I had spent many hours on the treadmill over the years trying to burn off the sweets I had gotten from his shop.
It was weird to drive all the way across town to run into a man who ran the business next door to mine, but that was just the kind of day and night it had been. That said, it didn’t look like we would be sitting next to each other for long. Not only was he already done eating, but he had put a twenty-dollar bill down on top of the check that was on the corner of the table.
Andrew appeared to be all ready to leave the restaurant when he saw me looking his way. The chocolatier looked like he was wrought with anxiety. His thinning gray hair was disheveled. His oval face had a red hue to it. And his blue eyes were bloodshot.
“Hey, neighbor,” I said.
“Sabrina. Hi,” he replied.
There was a distinct lack of enthusiasm in his voice. I didn’t take it personally. It didn’t take a detective to see that something was weighing heavily on his mind.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
The answer was clearly “no.” Anguish was all over his face. I had just phrased the question in that manner to be polite. After all, his emotions were his business, and if he didn’t want to reveal what was troubling him, it was his prerogative.
“I’m miserable,” he said.
Not only had that been blunt, but it was also heartbreaking to hear.
I gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m so sorry to hear that. What’s the matter?”
“You know how it is. It has just been one of those days.”
Andrew continued to defy my expectations. He had gone from overly expressive to vague in the span of one reply. Then again, perhaps he felt that he had been a little too revealing with his first response and was trying to make up for it now.
“I know exactly what you mean,” I replied. “How did the universe turn your life upside down?”
He took a deep breath before answering. “I feel like I’m staring down a defining moment in my life. I have to make a decision that could change everything. Chances like this, they don’t come around often. At the same time, I am torn like never before.”
I wrinkled my nose. “What kind of chance?”
“I have received an offer to buy my shop.”
The offer could have come from a number of places, but when I thought about businesses being purchased in town, one name immediately came to my mind.
“From Jake Williamson?” I asked.
Andrew nodded.
That was not what I wanted to hear. Jake had once offered to purchase Daley Buzz. Feeling that he was gutting the character of Main Street, my mother and grandmother did not hesitate to turn Jake down.
Jake was not shy about his intentions. He wanted to buy every place on Main Street and replace those family-run businesses with chain stores. The real estate developer had already gotten a number of shops to take him up on his offer.
It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to learn that Andrew was his latest target. Only, unlike my family, Andrew was clearly having a harder time saying no. Then again, not everyone felt as strongly as my family did about keeping Treasure Cove quirky. For some, the allure of a big payday proved too hard to resist.
“Are you going to sell, then?” I asked.
He let out a deep sigh. “Jake has offered a lot of money.”
“Is that a yes?”
A pained expression came to his face. “It’s really complicated.”
“What do you want to do?”
“You know that store is like my baby.”
“It sure doesn’t sound like you want to sell.”
“I don’t. I built that place from nothing.”
“If you’re so insistent about staying, then why do you seem so conflicted? Is it about the money?”
He gritted his teeth then responded, “It isn’t just my decision to make.”
“The rest of your family isn’t as determined to keep the business, then?” I asked.
“It isn’t just them. My business partner thinks we’d be crazy not to sell. They all have dollar signs in their eyes, and there’s nothing I can do to get them out.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
He nodded. “It’s really tough. I’m getting pressure from all sides. They have made it very hard for me to stick to my guns.”
Andrew was in a tougher jam than I had originally thought. With each reply that he gave me, he had more of my sympathy. Although I couldn’t help but wonder what the end result would be.
“It’s really unfortunate that they aren’t respecting your wishes. So are you going to give in, or will you hold strong?” I said.
His face was filled with resolve. “I stuck to my guns and told them I wasn’t going to sell.”
My brow furrowed. “Wait. You already told them that you weren’t going to sell?”
Andrew nodded.
“Then why do I keep getting the feeling that you’re gearing up for another fight?” I asked.
A tired look was in Andrew’s eyes. “Because there has been nothing but fighting ever since I told my family and business partner what my decision was. They keep trying to get me to change my mind. To get me to go along with their line of thinking. I got so sick of listening to them hassling me that I decided to hide out here for a little while in hopes that their anger would die down.”
“Do you think it has?”
“There’s only one way to find out.” He let out another sigh. “For better or worse, it’s time to get back to the shop.”
“I hope the rest of the night goes better for you.”
“So do I.”
Andrew got up from the table, said one last good-bye, then left the restaurant.
Chapter Eight
It would be nice to tell you that the rest of my evening went better. Between my concern for Andrew and the cloud of suspicion that surrounded the group of men that had gathered at the banquet hall, uncertainty made its presence felt all through dinner.
When David and I finished up with our meal, my boyfriend
drove me home. On the way, he slowed down as we passed the banquet hall. Oddly enough, the parking lot was completely empty, and there were no lights on in the building. Whatever the meeting had been about, not only was it over, but everyone had left in a hurry. So much for clearing up my suspicion. I was now more suspicious than ever.
With answers in such short supply, after returning home, instead of letting my thoughts get tangled up even more, I decided to call it a night. My body didn’t put up an argument. After all that had gone on that day, I was able to crash out in record time. Before I dozed off, I did manage to say a little prayer in hopes that the following day would go much better.
The next thing I knew, the morning sun was creeping into my bedroom, making me realize that I had not shut my curtains all the way the previous evening. While I had been awakened unexpectedly, I couldn’t really complain. As I looked at the time on my cell phone, I saw that I had gotten plenty of sleep.
Besides, all I had to do was glance at the bottom of my bed to realize that Snickerdoodle had been ready to wake me up had the sun not been successful in doing so. My adorably stumpy corgi barked at me to give him a walk, and I wasn’t about to keep him waiting.
“All right, boy. Don’t worry. I’m getting up right now.”
A few minutes later, Snickerdoodle and I were out the door, making our rounds of the neighborhood. In true doggie fashion, Snickerdoodle’s focus was on sniffing every tree, fire hydrant, and light pole that he spotted.
I paid more attention to the restored Victorian houses that we passed as well as the leafy oak trees that lined the street. The scenery of my neighborhood had always caught my attention, but that morning, there was another reason that I found myself so focused on the beauty of my surroundings. As much as I loved living in Treasure Cove, I couldn’t help but look at my hometown in a different light.
There was no denying that it was still picturesque, but with all the mysterious occurrences that had begun to pop up, clearly there was another side to this town that I had never noticed before. It was as if I had been too busy staring at a pretty rose to notice the thorns that had been beneath the flower all along. Now that some of the thorns had come to my attention, I wondered how many else there were that I had yet to uncover.
For better or for worse, I didn’t have too much time to get lost in thought. A work shift awaited at the coffee shop, so I brought Snickerdoodle home, changed into my work clothes, then headed off to Daley Buzz.
My drive from the north end of town to Main Street was as quiet as ever. It always was at seven in the morning. Even the beach, which would be jam packed with tourists later in the day, was as tranquil as ever, save for a few surfers who were busy riding the morning waves.
After passing by the beach, I headed toward the carefully manicured grass of Founder’s Park. From there, I made my way to the town square, where sunlight dappled through the trees and onto the bronze statue of Treasure Cove’s founding father, Jameson Murphy.
When I turned right onto Main Street, I saw that I was the only vehicle on the road. What an odd experience. While I would have preferred to have slept in, I did take a certain appreciation from the fact that I got to see the town before the majority of its residents woke up. This sleepy side to Treasure Cove was so peaceful and pretty. After all, in just a few hours, the streets would be as jammed as the thoughts that were crowding my mind.
***
Thankfully, the first few hours of my work shift went by in an uneventful fashion. All that changed when Tom Dillon entered the coffee shop. I had been waiting for this moment to come ever since I had spotted Tom filing into the banquet hall for the mysterious meeting the night before.
Tom was a five-foot-ten fifty-six-year-old man with an angular face, a thick mustache, and short black hair. He was carrying a few extra pounds around his waist, which he never seemed to be able to lose, despite all of the diets that he had tried.
In addition to attending secret meetings, Tom was a local real estate developer and one of my regulars here at Daley Buzz. Unlike Jake Williamson, who was the dominant force on the commercial side of the local real estate industry, Tom was a bigwig on the residential side of the business. He had not stated this publicly, but the rumor was that Tom had his sights set on building a new tract of homes off of Route 32.
Of course, a big kahuna like Tom had a number of plans. But despite all of the developing that he wanted to do around town, he had never expressed interest in buying the old Watterson estate, even just to tear the place down and build something new on the grounds. That was saying a lot, considering how large of a plot of land the estate sat on. I had a feeling it was the rumors about the place being cursed that had kept him from making a move on the property.
Tom must not have spotted me in the car at the banquet hall last night, because he approached the front counter of the shop without any awkwardness in his step. Even though my mind was filled with a number of burning questions about the secret meeting, I decided to make some small talk with him before hitting him with any heavy subject matter.
“Morning, Tom,” I said.
“Morning,” he replied.
“What can I get for you?”
“Double espresso.”
“Coming up.” I fired up the espresso. “You have a good night?”
His face tensed up. Tom’s sudden change of expression was very telling to me, especially since I asked him that same question every morning when he came in. Usually, he gave me a simple response. That time, he was filled with hesitation.
“Uh…yeah,” he replied.
That pause had gone on uncomfortably long.
Seeing how awkward my simple question had made him only spurred my curiosity on even more. That was just a little quirk about how my brain was wired. It was always the things I knew the least about that fascinated me the most. Rarely did I come across a mystery that I didn’t want to solve. Even more, the longer the suspicion was strung out, the more it gnawed at the back of my brain. That was the case with Tom. Right then, I craved answers.
“Did you do anything special last night?” I asked.
“No.”
He had tried to be nonchalant, but that rang false to me. That wasn’t all. His body language betrayed him. His muscles were anything but loose.
“Then why were you all dressed up last night?”
He shrugged. “What are you talking about?”
“I saw you outside the old banquet hall.”
Tom became as stiff as a corpse. “You did?” He took an accusatory tone with me. “What were you doing out there?”
He was having trouble keeping a lid on his temper, so I consciously went the opposite way.
I replied calmly in hopes that it would make him relax. “David and I were driving by the banquet hall on the way to dinner. We saw a bunch of very well-dressed men piling into the building. Were you guys having some kind of special meeting?”
“Are you sure you weren’t seeing things?” he asked.
I stared him down with clear eyes. “I know what I saw.”
“Are you sure you saw me?”
I gave him a definitive nod. “Yes.”
Tom waved his hand dismissively. “It was nothing.”
This conversation was really testing my nerves. Frustration was building inside me, to the point where I was having trouble keeping my emotions in check.
Things weren’t so easy for Tom, either. Every one of his responses seemed designed to get me to drop the subject, but he clearly didn’t realize that each time he tried avoiding my question, the more determined I became to get the truth.
“It sure looked like something,” I said.
“It was just a mixer,” he replied.
Tom must have thought I was the most gullible person in town. People weren’t so secretive over things like social mixers. Mostly because nothing secretive happened at mixers. Those were filled with just a bunch of local store owners exchanging business cards, making small talk, and eating store-bought
deli platters. What I saw last night was something more. I was convinced of it.
“I haven’t been to a chamber of commerce mixer in a while,” I said. “You should tell me when the next one is. We can go together.”
He shook his head. “These kinds of mixers are invite-only.”
“And yet you tried to tell me that it wasn’t a big deal. What kind of a mixer requires an invitation to get in? More importantly, what do you have to do to get an invitation?”
Tom looked like he was fresh out of ways to change the subject. He seemed poised to make a hasty exit. Reaching into his wallet, he pulled out two dollar bills and put them down on the counter.
“I have to be getting to work.”
I tried to get another word in, but before I had the chance to, he grabbed his double espresso and headed off.
Talk about mysterious. Each time I tried making sense of what I had seen at that banquet hall, my suspicions grew. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what had gone on at that meeting. Even more, the attendees seemed to be willing to go to great lengths to keep that information from coming out. But why?
Before I could fixate on that baffling question any longer, a familiar face came into the coffee shop.
Chapter Nine
Shannon Smith was a petite twenty-eight-year-old redhead who had freckles dotting the cheeks of her round face. I had known her for decades, which was saying a lot, considering that I wasn’t even thirty years old yet. Shannon and I had met in elementary school and had been friends ever since.
Unfortunately, for a great deal of that time, relationship problems had plagued her. If she wasn’t busy picking the wrong guy to be with, she was having trouble finding any guy to notice her. The irony was that while the romantic side of her life was a mess, professionally, she was in a great place. Shannon was the owner of one of the most successful sandwich shops in town. As my taste buds could attest, she deserved all the success that came her way.
Chocolate With A Side Of Murder Page 4