A Caffeine Conundrum

by Angela Ruth Strong

  Billie was the kind of person Tandy moved to a small town to get to know. Could they be friends after Marissa explained what happened to Virginia, or would Billie turn her suspicions on Tandy, being that she was the outsider?

  Tandy’s shoulders sagged with the weight of it all. She’d wanted Billie to be creepy and villainous so the police would have a suspect besides her. Now where did she look?

  The guy from the truck joined her, watching Marissa. He’d apparently been engaged to the blonde at one time and still had a thing for her, based on the fact that he’d stuck around after her tirade. Too bad he’d accidentally agreed to demolish her grandmother’s house, thus ending their engagement.

  “Hi.” He held out a hand to shake.

  Tandy shifted Cocoa to her left arm so she could grip his calloused palm. He was more rugged up close with laugh lines in his bronze skin and a golden five o’clock shadow. If he ever got his own renovation show on TV, she’d watch it.

  “I’m Connor, the destroyer of dreams.”

  Whether Connor felt guilty about his mistake or not, Tandy found it refreshing that his introduction wasn’t an attempt to impress. He might be exactly what the beauty queen needed.

  “I’m Tandy, new to town and already in trouble for something I didn’t do.”

  He nodded acceptance before glancing at her Pomeranian. “And this is?”

  She liked him even more now. “Cocoa. He’s tougher than he looks.”

  Connor let Cocoa lick his hand then stuffed it back in his pocket. “I can tell.” They both turned their attention toward the women on the other side of the counter.

  Billie took off her glasses and dabbed at her face with a handkerchief. “I’d been worried something like this would happen.”

  Tandy’s heart rate tripped. Her eyes widened. Did Billie say she’d been worried someone might kill Virginia? What did she know? And what other dangers might be lurking around the street’s deceptively quaint corners? “Come again?”

  “I prayed for her…” Billie slid her glasses back up her nose then focused on Tandy, fingers trembling. “We’d both go to auctions and estate sales, and I’d always take the books because I love first editions. She was into genealogy, so if I found old journals, I’d sell them to her. They were all old enough that it didn’t really matter, until recently. I found a diary belonging to an upstanding member of the community and didn’t feel it was right to sell.”

  Tandy tilted her head. What was the danger in an old journal?

  “She argued, and I caught her sneaking into my shop and taking pictures of the pages.” Billie inhaled. “I had the feeling she was up to no good. Possibly even blackmail. That was the last time I saw her.”

  Tandy’s lips parted though no sound came out. She’d wanted one other suspect for police to investigate, but with the possibility that Virginia was a blackmailer, every person in town became a suspect.

  Marissa looked Tandy’s way, as well, as if asking for help. Or maybe she was expressing gratefulness that she hadn’t won Miss Ohio after all. Then she wouldn’t be in the public eye as coming from this sinister little town when the news broke.

  Tandy might be safer moving back to the city since there was no one here she could trust. Everyone had secrets, and they seemed to be worse than hers.

  Connor stepped forward. “Do you still have the diary, Billie?”

  He really was a hero, wasn’t he? Fighting for Marissa despite her rejection. Tandy’s heart constricted with a twinge of jealousy. She didn’t want to think she needed a man in her life, but it would be nice to have someone who cared for her this much. She nuzzled her nose into Cocoa’s fur.

  Billie glanced from Connor to Marissa, concern turning her eyes from the shade of a macchiato to deep roast. “I do, but—”

  Marissa rocked forward and grasped Billie’s hand between her own. “Oh, please, Billie. We aren’t going to blackmail anyone. We need to take it to the police. Then they can question the right suspects.”

  Billie stilled, indecision creasing her face. “I’m afraid people will be hurt when the secrets are exposed.”

  Tandy moved closer to the counter so as not to miss any of the conversation. Who did Billie think was going to get hurt? Taking the information to the police would reveal what the killer was trying to keep quiet. The bad guy would be the only one hurt, and it would keep him from hurting others.

  Marissa shot Tandy another glance. Maybe they were going to be a team after all. Of course, Marissa would probably choose anybody to work with over her ex.

  Tandy blew her bangs up. She had nothing to lose. “Billie, you know how you were telling me about plucking blossoms off young trees in your apple orchard to keep them from being infected by Fire Blight?”

  Billie shifted to look at Tandy though her expression didn’t change. “Yes.”

  “Well, this is like that.” Tandy bit her lip in hopes the older woman would understand. “You sacrifice a few apples to keep the whole orchard from being destroyed.”

  Connor nodded encouragingly. He got the analogy.

  Billie closed her eyes. They could always take this information to the deputy, and he could subpoena the diary. Tandy couldn’t imagine Billie as being uncooperative though. The woman was all warmth and grace.

  Billie peered at Marissa. “You sure you want to see what the diary has to say?”

  Marissa widened her already wide eyes. “Yes. Please. This is very important.”

  Billie winced and shot a warning look toward Connor. What was that about? Did the journal contain secrets on him? Had he killed Virginia to get Marissa to run to him for help? He’d certainly been there at the right time.

  Billie stood. “It’s in my safe. I’ll be right back.”

  As Billie headed toward a back room, Tandy scooted sideways so she wasn’t as close to Connor and scanned the area for a weapon. A silver coffee and tea set was the closest thing she could reach. She picked up the larger pot with her free hand and pictured herself knocking Connor unconscious with it then riding to safety on the old-fashioned unicycle in the corner.

  “Ooh…that’s pretty,” Marissa cooed, standing from her kneeling position. “Does it have a price tag?”

  Tandy blinked. Were they really talking about purchasing antiques at a time like this? Of course, Marissa didn’t have as much to worry about as Tandy did. Connor wouldn’t kill her.

  Connor stepped closer and reached toward Tandy.

  Her stomach lurched, and she raised the teapot, ready to strike. “Back off.”

  Connor lifted a quizzical eyebrow then looked above her at the little white tag dangling from the handle. “It says three-hundred dollars, but I think Tandy wants it for herself.”

  “Figures.” Marissa pursed her lips in a pout, drawing all Connor’s attention.

  Tandy shivered in relief. He’d only been trying to find the price for Marissa. She lowered her weapon as well as her eyelashes to act like everything was normal. “You wouldn’t want this anyway, Marissa. Silver requires a lot of polishing.”

  Billie joined them once again, a brown leather journal covered in gold filigree clutched to her chest, and her cheeks drained of color.

  Tandy set the teapot down and hugged Cocoa tighter in anticipation. Inside Billie’s book were the answers they’d been looking for.

  Billie stopped in front of Marissa, bowed her head then extended both arms carefully as if holding a bomb.

  “That’s Grandmother’s diary,” Marissa exploded.

  She stared at the familiar journal in Billie’s hands. It was a priceless treasure, but surely it didn’t hold secrets that would motivate murder. It held family history. Memories from her childhood and beyond. A beautiful heritage.

  Billie’s eyes pooled with tears. “I’m sorry, Marissa.”

  “For what?” Marissa asked even while retreating.

  She didn’t want to know the answer. Whatever skeletons were in her grandmother’s closet, they would be best left undisturbed. Especially by her.
Especially if she didn’t want to destroy her family name any further. Mom would flip.

  While Marissa had grown up with pride at being related to the founding fathers, as a kid she hadn’t realized that meant the bar was set higher for her. Normal kids got paid by their parents for getting straight A’s. She got reprimanded for a B. Normal teenagers whispered together in the high school bathroom. She got whispered about. Normal summer vacations were spent on Lake Erie while her education continued in museums and on tours…besides that one summer where she was sent to fat camp even though she hadn’t known she was fat.

  Being crowned Miss Ohio hadn’t been an option. She’d practically been born royalty.

  Yet she’d somehow lost the title.

  Instead she’d determined to start the teahouse in Grandmother’s Victorian mansion.

  Then her fiancé demolished the place.

  And now that she faced the possibility of being accused for murder, the only way to save herself was to tear her family down even more?

  She ran fingers into her hair and gripped their roots, barely aware of her beanie sliding down her back and landing with a whisper.

  Billie didn’t answer, she simply turned toward Connor.

  He stepped forward, retrieving the beanie and reaching for the diary.

  No. Connor couldn’t know her family’s secrets. That would give him the power to use them against her. Use them to soften her towards him.

  She snatched the diary before he could get it, heart throbbing. “You need to leave.” She made her voice as forceful as she could. Steeled her eyes. Dared him to defy her one more time.

  She was defending her family from him. From his suggestion that maybe she wasn’t the only one who made mistakes. From his suggestion that the Alexanders weren’t any better than he was, and more importantly, they weren’t any better than her. If that were true, she’d have no hope for redemption.

  But her strength was an act. If Connor stayed, he’d witness her breakdown. She’d probably even cry in his arms. And then where would she be? Who would she be?

  Connor held out her beanie while studying her with the kind of look that threatened to melt her witchiness like Dorothy’s bucket of water. She snatched her hat and narrowed her eyes to keep the liquid from forming.

  His jaw hardened, its edge working up his expression until the light died from his gaze. “All right.”

  He did an about face and marched toward the door, and just like that he was gone. No condolences. No second chances. No teasing or promises or begging for mercy.

  It’s what she’d asked for, but it left her empty. Alone. Well, not literally alone. But lonely. Like she’d been her whole life.

  The clacking of the toy train interrupted her thoughts, bringing her focus back to the other women in the room. The one who’d hid her grandmother’s secrets and the one who needed them to be set free.

  Tandy stood in place, hanging onto her puppy like a kindergartener with a blanket. “What was that about?”

  Marissa shrugged and looked away. She was going to be okay. It was no big deal. She’d wave off her issues with Connor. Because likely the stuff in the diary she wouldn’t be able to wave off, and that’s what mattered now. “He’s an old flame.”

  “Not that old,” Billie countered.

  “Yeah, it looked like there were still a few sparks,” Tandy added.

  What did it matter? Connor was gone, and she had other things to worry about. She inhaled courage then lowered the diary to the counter, running her fingers along the buttery material and inset design. The woman who’d written inside had passed before her time. Passed before Marissa could make her proud in return.

  Billie and Tandy joined her at the counter. She couldn’t look at them. She couldn’t face the pity on Billie’s face or intrigue on Tandy’s. Billie knew more than Marissa did, while Tandy knew nothing.

  “Shouldn’t we take this to the deputy across the street?” Tandy asked in what she might consider to be a gentle tone, though from anyone else it would come across as sardonic.

  Marissa looked up but only to glare. She wasn’t going to hand over Grandmother’s most intimate memories to a kid she used to babysit.

  Tandy increased the pressure like handcuffs against a struggle. “How come the diary was sold in an estate sale anyway? Why didn’t your family inherit your grandmother’s belongings?”

  Marissa looked down again, her guts twisting in shame. She didn’t want to dishonor the dead, but she had to answer, or Tandy would keep going. “Grandmother had some debt that needed to be paid off. She was used to living in luxury, and without my grandfather around to manage his real estate holdings, she lived above her means.”

  Tandy nodded, her eyes wandering along the ceiling as she thought. “She must have had a reverse mortgage then too, which is why the bank owned her house and it wasn’t passed down to her children.”

  Marissa’s stomach warmed. Nobody had known about the reverse mortgage before Grandmother’s death. The Alexanders had all assumed her historic house would remain in the family for generations to come. “Unfortunately,” she admitted.

  If Grandmother was capable of that kind of secret, what else had she been capable of? Marissa really didn’t want to know, and she didn’t want anyone else to know either.

  Tandy turned from her to face Billie. “Did Virginia blackmail Marissa’s grandmother?”

  “Hm…” Billie tapped a finger to her lips. “I don’t know about that, but if Ettabell Alexander was ready to come clean with her story, it could have created issues for someone else.”

  Wait, Tandy thought Grandmother was being blackmailed too? That would explain her finances. And if she was going to come clean with whatever it was Virginia was using for blackmail, then could she have been killed, as well? Marissa needed to know.

  She flipped the diary open. “What page, Billie?”

  Billie pointed to the ribbon that acted as a bookmark. “I didn’t read this to pry into your personal life, Marissa. I want you to know that. I read this to see what Virginia had been taking pictures of.”

  Marissa swallowed down the ball of uncertainty at what she might find. Whatever it was, it wasn’t Billie’s fault. “I know. You were trying to protect me.” Billie understood being a grandmother. Though she was more of the down-to-earth kind. She’d lost her husband a while ago, but she didn’t live above her means or keep secrets from her grandchildren.

  Billie met her gaze and nodded solemnly before flipping to the page she’d marked. She started to read aloud, but Marissa impatiently read ahead.

  I’m going to go to the pageant board and let them know the Miss Ohio contest was rigged for me. Governor Joseph Cross counted the ballots and lied about who had the highest score in order to get Grace Springs on the map, thus promoting tourism for his riverboat cruises. Miss Sandusky should have won.

  Chapter Five

  Marissa couldn’t have read that right. Her eyes leaped back up to the beginning of the paragraph to reread it correctly. But the words didn’t change. The meaning didn’t change. Never in her life had she imagined such a scenario.

  Grandmother hadn’t been the true Miss Ohio.

  The room spun. Her skin burned. Her chest heaved. She gripped the edge of the counter to hold herself upright.

  “Sit down, Marissa.” Billie’s soft voice barely broke through her blizzard of thoughts, but she couldn’t make her legs move to obey.

  What would Marissa’s life have been like if Grandmother hadn’t been crowned? Would Grandmother have met Grandfather at the homecoming parade for WWII on which she reigned from a float? Would Grandfather have made so much money in real estate if Joseph Cross hadn’t turned Grace Springs into a tourist town? Would Dad have had the funds to attend the prestigious Ashby College where he met Mom? Would Marissa have been born?

  “My whole life is based on a lie.” Had she just said that out loud?

  “Uh…” Tandy shoved her little fur ball into Marissa’s arms. “Here.”


  Marissa let go of the counter to embrace the bundle of warmth and softness. Cocoa’s damp tongue scrubbed her face. This time she didn’t care. Because the dog would love her even if everyone else found out she was a nobody. She needed more dogs in her life. She stroked his silky fur as a rogue tear mingled with the saliva on her cheek.

  Something solid bumped the back of her knees. Billie’s rocking chair. Marissa let herself sink into it, though it would take longer for reality to sink in. Her grandmother was a fraud and had apparently known she was a fraud. But for how long? And had Tandy’s mother known? Had she even earned her crown, or had that been rigged as well? Would Marissa have wanted the pageant to be rigged in her favor?

  No. It had been rigged against her, and that was also wrong.

  “Does Joseph Cross live in Grace Springs?” Tandy asked, drawing Marissa back into the present.

  Tandy was thinking of Virginia’s murder. That’s why Billie had brought out the journal in the first place. Tandy didn’t care about the Alexander heritage or the legacy Marissa was going to leave behind. She only cared about clearing her own name. Which was safer for Marissa in a way.

  If Marissa focused on finding Virginia’s killer, it could take the sting out of this discovery. Like, Yeah, Grandmother stole the Miss Ohio crown, but at least I’m not a murderer.

  Billie cleared her throat like it was hard for her to speak ill of anyone. She may live in a small town, but she wasn’t a gossip. She probably knew more dirt than most, being that she bought people’s old belongings, but she always took their problems to God first. Apparently even Virginia’s. “As far as I know, Joseph Cross sold his sternwheelers and moved into the retirement community by the river—Grace Springs Manor.”

  Marissa leaned forward, her grip on Cocoa tightening unintentionally. The dog wiggled. “Mr. Cross sold his boats?” That had been his whole reason for rigging the pageant. Ever since she could remember, he would invite the reigning Miss Ohio to serve as hostess during his annual Christmas Cruise aboard The Ohio Queen. If he sold the boats, then the woman who’d tripped Marissa wouldn’t be coming to town for the event. What a relief.