A couple of women step into the bakery, and I head to the front and take their orders.
“Coffee and two slices of pecan pie,” the older of the two commands. She looks right up there with Nell, late eighties, early nineties maybe, and she shakes her head as if she were angry about something.
And the younger woman dressed in a dark shawl with a beaded necklace that glitters under the twinkle lights above nods in agreement.
I hand them their orders on adorable miniature silver platters. My mother found a handful at an estate sale and thought it would be a cute way to serve my customers who wanted to stay in the café to enjoy their treats.
“Everything all right, ladies?” I’m betting they’re headed to the funeral. They both look far too formally dressed for a Saturday.
The Nell lookalike waves me off. “We just can’t get over the rash of gruesome murders and break-ins that have hit Honey Hollow. This used to be a safe place, and now you practically need to head to the city to flee the violence.” They share a quiet chortle at the thought.
“But the garage robberies have stopped, so that’s a good thing, right?” I know for a fact they stopped because it was poor Hunter who was doing them, and he’s no longer with us.
“I don’t know.” The woman in the dark shawl takes a sip from her coffee. “I live across the street from our dearly departed Collette, and I saw someone entering her house the very night she was murdered. Imagine that. Why, that woman had the worst luck of anyone I knew.”
I shrink a little behind the counter because I’m pretty sure the woman she saw was me. A thought occurs to me. Maybe she didn’t see me? Maybe she saw the real thief? And I bet he or she was the killer!
“Oh, I heard about that.” I shake my head, dismayed—literally by my own actions. “Did they catch the thief? I mean, does anyone even know what they look like?” Gah! They? Way to implicate yourself. Why don’t I just show her the pictures I took while I’m at it?
“It wasn’t a they.” She’s quick to admonish. “It was most certainly a she. A blonde woman ran into the house. I saw it myself. Of course, at that hour I didn’t realize what had happened to poor Collette, so I didn’t think much about it. She was a busy person and had a busy social life to boot. There were always men and women running in and out of there at all hours.” She shrugs as if she were indifferent to it.
I think on this for a moment. My hair is often mistaken for blonde, and if that streetlamp, which happened to be seizing that night, shone over me, I would certainly look so.
“So, you saw that truck?” I shake my head, hoping she didn’t. “I mean, I heard whispers of it myself.”
“That’s the thing.” She lifts a crooked finger. Her bright orange lipstick is drawn in a line over her mouth. “I don’t know what the other neighbors think they saw, but there wasn’t a truck. It was a red sedan. Cherry red, I tell you. And she came out with a bag. I saw it with my own two eyes.”
A bag!
“Have you told the police?”
“No, I don’t want any trouble. If this madman who’s been running around slaughtering our own townspeople isn’t caught soon, I’ll have my house for sale come spring.” They scuttle off to the nearest table, still grumbling into their coffee.
Red sedan. Cherry red.
I think I’ll head to the funeral a little early and hang out in the parking lot in the event that blonde decides she’d like to pay her respects.
* * *
Of every mode of transportation that showed up before the funeral began, there wasn’t a cherry red sedan in the bunch. Figures.
Everett asked if I would sit with him, and, of course, I’m more than happy to oblige. It’s Everett on one side of me and his deceased father on the other. A little unnerving, considering the fact he’s no longer in the material. The funeral is full of showy wreaths and even showier people. I’ve never seen so many designer labels in a room at once. And don’t get me started on the perfume and cologne thick as fog. It’s like being stuck at ground zero in the perfume aisle at the mall. There’s no casket, just an oversized picture of Collette, all smiles, looking her best. It’s black and white, which is a shame because she really did have such pretty red hair.
Mr. Rutherford and his wife, Patricia, are seated near the front. Mr. Rutherford looks as if he’s holding strong, and Mrs. Rutherford looks bored as if she’d rather be anywhere but the funeral of her husband’s mistress. I crane my neck and spot Josh Normandy, the kid who tried to burst into Collette’s wild party at the Jungle Room and who did finally get a piece of the action when he gave her mouth-to-mouth. A lot of good that did. Unlike the Rutherfords, he indeed looks pretty broken up about Collette. There’s a wad of tissues in his hand, and his eyes are beet red and swollen. He seems to be hanging onto every word the minister is saying.
Soon enough, her mother, Jackie, takes the pulpit and says a few kind words about her daughter, as does Collette’s brother, Steven. Once he takes his seat, there’s a long spate of silence, and just as the minister is about to take the helm once again, the back door bursts open and in runs Jenna Hatfield with a bright red coat and a pink scarf around her neck.
“I’m here!” she cries out as she dashes to the front. “Oh gosh, I’m here, and I’m late to my best friend’s funeral!” A light chuckle bounces through the room.
The minister waves her up, and she takes off her coat, revealing a shocking pink dress before scooting her way to the pulpit. Her cheeks are flushed, her hair wild and frizzy.
“I’m so sorry I’m late. The battery in my car died, so I had to beg my neighbor to give me a jump. Of course, there was roadwork on the way over, and by the time I got to Honey Hollow, all of the streetlights malfunctioned. Just my luck.” She guffaws into the microphone, and the sound of her stale laughter reverberates off the walls.
She looks to Collette’s oversized picture, that eerie grimace frozen in time. It’s almost not fair. Nobody told Collette that very snapshot would one day represent her at her own funeral. It’s a terrible thing really. Because if she knew, I guarantee she wouldn’t be smiling so hard. But I suppose that’s the best way to remember her.
“Dear Collette”—she tries her best to control her panting—“I suppose it’s fair to say you had a charmed life overall, but nobody had worse luck than you on that fated night.”
A series of gasps circles the room.
“I’m sorry!” Jenna holds a hand out. “I had a speech prepared. I suppose I should stick to the script or God knows what might come flying out of this mouth.” She pats herself down before plucking a folded note from her bra, and another round of chuckles ensues. “Ah, yes. Here we go. My dearest Collette, here I am at the one place I never wanted to be and neither did you.” She pauses to offer a soft smile up at the crowd before holding the paper at arm’s length. “That’s better. So, as you can see, I’ve obeyed your wishes and did not wear black to your funeral. I am not sad. And I did my best not to cry too much. Our friendship is one to be rivaled through the ages. You were my rock when things got tough, and I would like to think I was the same for you. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you. In fact, I’ve already done what a good best friend would do. There is nothing for you to worry about. No embarrassment, no humiliation, no reason to fear. All you need to do now is rest well, my dear.” She giggles into the mic. “I guess that last part rhymed, didn’t it?” She looks over at Jackie and nods. “I’m sorry. She was a special woman and will be very much missed.”
No sooner does she take a seat than the church goes dark and a brief video montage plays. Collette looks expressive and vibrant in each and every photo, and it really is heartbreaking that she was taken away from this world so soon. Suddenly, I feel charged to find the killer, not just for Everett, but for Collette as well.
I glance back toward Jenna and think about my own blonde bestie. Surely, if something untimely happened to me, she would do what any best friend would do as well. There would certainly not be anything to fear or
to be embarrassed—OH MY GOD!
I glance to Everett and smack him on the arm.
He tips his head up at me as the lights come back on and bodies begin to drain next door to Carlson Hall for refreshments.
Everett wraps his arm around my shoulders as he leans in close. “What’s going on?”
“I think I just discovered who broke into Collette’s home that night after I did.”
His brows pinch hard in the middle. “You broke into Collette’s home?” he hisses just above a whisper.
I give a quick glance around. “Only to look around and I found some kinky goodies, too. Sex toys—plus, that’s initially where I learned about the Jungle Room. But when Noah and Ivy went to look around, those things were gone. I spoke with someone at the bakery today, and she confirmed there was a blonde who showed up later that night in a red sedan and came out with a bag.”
“And?”
“I’m willing to bet Jenna Hatfield drives a red sedan.”
Chapter 45
Everett and I—and his ever-present father, file out of the church and hungrily look for a cherry red sedan in the parking lot but to no avail.
“I think I found it,” Everett whispers and points across the street at a rather hastily parked cherry red sedan.
“That must be it! You did it! We did it!” I lunge over him with a hearty embrace just to find Noah standing behind him flashing a manufactured smile my way.
“What exactly did the two of you do now?” Noah’s affect falls flat again, and I’m quick to disembark from Everett.
“Nothing.” I hop over and land a chaste kiss to Noah’s lips just as Ivy comes up from behind. “Detective Fairbanks,” I say without letting go of my man, and she openly scowls at me.
“Lemon.” She nods to Everett. “Judge Baxter. I’ll be inside with the refreshments. Detective Fox, please mind what we discussed.” She takes off for the set of opened doors behind us as a flood of bodies fill the hall.
“Mind what we discussed? Do you mind sharing what that might be?”
He glances to Everett. “Only if you mind sharing what put you in such a celebratory mood when I came upon you.”
Everett glowers at Noah a moment too long, and if I’m not mistaken, his father does the same. “Lemon, I leave that entirely up to you. I think I’ll join Detective Fairbanks inside.” He takes off, and Noah wraps his arms around my waist.
“You don’t have to tell me. In fact, if it doesn’t involve a strip joint or an underground sex club, I’m good with not knowing for now.”
A choking sound emits from my throat. “You really don’t want to share whatever secret you and Ivy have, do you?”
He grimaces. “It’s not necessarily a secret. Let’s just say some information is best kept under wraps until it’s proven to be true.”
“I fully agree with that.” I just hate that there are question marks between us. But as much as I crave open and honest, there are some things I just can’t bring myself to share with Noah. At least not yet. I rather like the fact he finds me sane—for now. “How about we head in and I take you right to the platter of chocolate chips cookies I snuck over just for you?” It’s true. I had an inkling he might show up.
“You do love me.”
“That I do.”
Inside the hall it’s thick with bodies, which in turn brings up the temperature in the room. Intermittent bouts of laughter emit, but mostly it’s a somber scene with old friends catching up with one another and upcoming holiday plans being exchanged. I spot Lainey and the forever hair flipper Tanner Redwood talking to a few of Lainey’s friends from the library. Tanner is a two-timer. Everyone knows that but my sister. I just hate that she and Forest unraveled like a cheap sweater. And even more than that, I hate that Lainey has kept close to Tanner ever since. At first, it was just to make Forest crazy. Lainey rather liked the idea of him wanting to scratch his eyeballs out with jealousy. But now they’ve sort of come to an understanding that they’re together. I’m not sure if Tanner has fully gotten the memo, considering I’ve spotted him around town with other girls on a few occasions, but when I presented the information to Lainey, she didn’t seem too bothered about it, which made me wonder if they had some sort of agreement. Nonetheless, adjacent to them, speaking to the chief of the fire department, is Forest himself. And he’s not paying attention at all to what the chief is saying. His jealous eyes are pinned right on my beautiful sister.
Noah leans in. “Looks like Mr. Rutherford is coming our way.”
I jump a little as both he and his wife appear before us and offer pleasant smiles.
“Mr. Rutherford, Mrs. Rutherford.” I nod to the two of them. “It’s so nice to see you again. I’m sorry it wasn’t under better circumstances.”
“Yes, well”—he turns to look at the giant picture of Collette now being moved from the church to the front of the hall—“I wanted to thank you personally for delivering those platters of delicious cookies to the office last week. It really did provide the morale boost we needed. Spirits have been down ever since we lost our bright light. And I wanted to thank you for catering the awards ceremony as well. Collette let me know earlier that evening that you were making pumpkin spice everything just for me.” He gives a soft chuckle.
“That I did. And I hope before the evening turned disastrous, you had an opportunity to enjoy a little of it.” Keelie said that Naomi told her they ended up scrapping every last cookie into the dumpster once the forensics team was through investigating. To think all those hours of baking and no one to enjoy it.
“Oh, I sure did.” He nods vigorously. “In fact, the pumpkin spice latte was to die for.”
His wife, Patricia, smacks him on the arm. “Please excuse my husband. He has no decorum when it comes to funerals. I’d best get him home before he goes and says all sorts of inappropriate things as he’s prone to.” She lifts a finger as she speeds him to the door, and I watch as they snuggle into their coats before heading out into the overcast day.
“Noah? What do you think would prompt a woman to stay with a man whom she knows is cheating on her? I can’t figure it out for the life of me.”
He grunts as he glances to the door. “Security. Fear of being on your own in life. Divorce is messy, costly. It can sure turn your world inside out before you know it.”
“I guess so, but I wouldn’t nearly be as tolerant.”
His chest vibrates with a laugh. “Duly noted.” He leans in and presses a soft kiss to my ear. “And I promise that you will never have to worry about it.”
Ivy waves him down from deep in the crowd, and he sighs. “Duty calls. I’ll be back.” He takes off, and I spot Jenna at the cookie table loading up a dessert plate until it’s heaping so I make my move.
I speed over and snatch up a dessert plate of my own and throw on a few pieces of German chocolate cookies.
“You did great today,” I say as somber as possible, and she does a double take in my direction.
“It’s you! The cookie girl. Yup, I meant every single word. Trust me, I wouldn’t be wearing this bubble gum getup for anyone else.”
“Well, I’m glad you made it in time. And after all that trouble you had on the road, I think it’s a miracle you found a parking spot in the lot.”
“Oh, I didn’t.” She takes a bite out of an almond snowdrift and moans. “I ended up parking across the street.”
Winner winner best friend dinner!
I glance over at Everett in the distance and he nods my way, but my work isn’t finished here just yet.
“But your eulogy was just beautiful. You really loved her. My best friend and I are pretty close, too. And I completely understood what you meant about doing anything for her.” A huff of a laugh bucks through me as I lean in close. “In fact, we have a pact. If anything should happen to either one of us, we’re to hightail it over to one another’s homes and do a little housekeeping in the bedroom, if you know what I mean.”
Jenna belts out a monstrous laugh, and ha
lf the room lulls to a whisper for less than two seconds. She leans in, an impish gleam in her eye.
“We made the same pact.”
I gasp with delight. “And did you uphold your end of the bargain?”
“Yup. I sure did. But my God, I had almost forgotten. Anyway, it was done in the nick of time. You know, it always sounds good in theory, but it was a tough thing to do knowing she would never head back into that bedroom. But I figured she wouldn’t want her mother or, God forbid, her brother to find those things we girls like to play with.”
Eww. “Yes, I totally agree. You are truly a good friend, Jenna.” I look to Everett and frown. Lily Swanson has planted herself staunchly by his side, filling his head with gibberish, I’m sure. But his father stands with arms folded across his see-through chest just staring at me as if he wanted answers. “Hey? You knew Collette best. Who do you think would do something so horrible to her?”
She groans as she looks into the crowd. “Collette had more enemies than she had friends, but I can’t imagine anyone actually trying to kill her. I mean, she did tick a lot of people off, though.”
“Who did she tick off last? You know, at the office?”
“That’s easy. That would be Jules King.”
“Jules? I think I met her the night of the ceremony. Dark, straight hair?”
“Looks like a Halloween skeleton.” Her chest pulsates with a laugh. “It’s just us girls. You can say it. Jules and Collette were both up for the VIP award—and as some might suggest, Jules did land three new corporate clients for the firm this year.”
Murder in the Mix (Books 1-3) Page 35