by Tegan Maher
"You know," she said as she smoothed the icing, "we're making enough off this wedding that you could pay some kids to do all that stuff while we're handling the bigger projects."
"I know," I replied, "and I plan to, but for tonight, it's a brainless task that lets my mind pick at the murder."
"You can't perseverate on that, either," she said. "Which reminds me—I went to the store to grab more confectioners sugar while you were gone and ran into Hettie Plum."
"Fabulous," I said, imagining the glee the old windbag must have felt when she managed to get her claws into Dee.
Hettie was one of those awful people who loved nothing better than to snag an opportunity to pass judgment and share it with anybody who'd care to listen. She was a mean gossip and the mistress of backhanded compliments and syrupy, condescending smiles. I'm sure Dee was prime choice, being roommates with the girl who found the body.
"And did she manage to drag all of your deep, dark secrets from the depths of your soul? Or was she too intent on dragging the gory details of Charlie's murder from you?"
She snorted as she piped Happy Birthday onto the cake. "I wish I had deep, dark secrets. That would mean I had a life. We both know that's not true."
"I don't know," I mused while I tied what felt like the thousandth ribbon around the little ball of birdseed. "I think you've had an interesting year. You've been accused of murder, inherited a cafe, opened a cake business, and become a partner in a B&B. Oh, and you got a boyfriend. I'm not sure I could handle much more of a life."
She laughed. "I guess you're right. But before that? Flatline. Crickets. And you've had quite the year, too. Divorced, moved hundred of miles away to a town you didn't know because you bought a lodge you'd never seen. You managed to snag a great guy, and oh—need I remind you that you've solved three murders and are investigating a fourth?" She paused and preened a little. "And, if I do say so myself, you found an awesome business partner."
I shot her a huge grin. "Then I guess we've both turned into adventuring jet-setters."
She gave me her best oh please look. "Let's not get carried away. I think it's more like we're crap-storm magnets. But that's okay. It's all worked out for the best."
"It has. Now, do tell—what did Hettie Plum have to say?"
"She's friends with Aggy Small, who's great niece got married a couple months ago. Apparently Charlie used baby blue roses rather than navy ones, and her tail's all twisted. She's demanding her money back plus damages and has apparently been heckling the poor guy about it. Aggy's cut from the same cloth Hettie is, and so's her sister, Lynn."
"So what you're saying is that we have another possible suspect."
"Yeah, it wouldn't surprise me. They definitely fall under the white trash with money umbrella, except they only think they have money."
"Well I have another suspect, too. Or at least I might."
I told her about Kristina and she puckered her lips while she worked. "I went to school with her back before we moved. Honestly, she scared me a little just because of her family, but to be fair, we were in kindergarten. Her brothers were straight-up bullies."
"Do you think she's somebody I should talk to?"
"Couldn't hurt. Have you filled Gabe in on that yet?"
I shook my head as I tossed the last birdseed sachet into the box. I glanced at my phone. "Do you think it's too late now?"
She shook her head as she placed the last of a cluster of roses on the corner of the cake. "He's still at the office pouring over the ME's preliminary results and the pics from the scene."
"I'll give him a call then. He's taking my involvement well, and I don't want to jeopardize that. I also don't really want to be involved, so if he wants to run with the info, that's fine with me. I've got enough on my plate."
"And not enough in your cup," she said, tipping the wine bottle over my glass. I wasn't typically a three-drinks-a-day girl, but I figured it was okay to make an exception when you'd stumbled over your florist face-down in his petunias.
"You got that right, sister," I said, then clinked my glass to hers.
CHAPTER NINE
"HELLO THE HOUSE!" A rich voice called the next morning, sending a shiver of anticipation down my spine. Scout and I were in that awesome spot in a relationship where we were getting comfortable with each other, but the shiny newness hadn't worn off yet.
I shot a dubious look at bear, who hadn't even flicked an ear to tell me anybody was there.
"Some watch dog you are," I grumbled, shuffling toward the staircase in my fuzzy slippers. He wuffed, not bothered at all, and pushed to his feet, pausing halfway up to stretch.
"C'mon in," I called, pausing to smooth my hair down into something that didn't resemble Medusa's nest of snakes. Thankfully, I'd already dressed and brushed my teeth, but that's as far as I'd made it. "I'm on my way down."
When I stepped around the corner into the kitchen, I smiled. His broad back was to me, and he was making coffee. My kind of man.
"Is that for me?" I asked, shuffling toward him.
"Have you had a cup yet?" he asked, turning toward me as he hit brew on the Keurig. He grinned when he took in my appearance, then stooped over to give me a quick kiss. "I'm going to assume no. In that case, then yes. This is definitely for you. I can wait the thirty seconds it'll take to brew another one."
"Your survival instincts are one of the things I like most about you," I said, moving around him to pull the milk out of the fridge.
Maisey popped in just as he handed me my cup. "It's about time you got out of bed. I've been up for hours waiting to get started."
I cocked an eyebrow at her. "You don't technically sleep."
She flapped her hand, and the dahlia on her hat bobbed. Today it was neon green, which matched her galoshes. I tilted my head. "I didn't know dahlias came in that shade of green. Or any shade of green, for that matter."
"Oh, that's something new I learned this morning," she said, talking so fast I'd have thought she'd drank a pot of coffee if she wasn't a ghost. "I usually dress one piece at a time pretty much like I did when I was alive, but I was in too big a rush and did everything all at once. I was thinking green for my galoshes, but everything turned out that color. I'd never thought of using colors outside the normal ones for my dahlia, but I decided to leave it that way."
"I like it," I said, and Scout seconded it.
"But what has you so atwitter that you turned everything green?" Scout asked.
She cast an accusing glance at me. "You haven't told him yet? You better not have changed your mind. Please say you haven't changed your mind."
Again with the chihuahua on crack thing. She was practically vibrating.
"Of course I haven't changed my mind, but I did just get up, and he's only been here five seconds. I haven't even had my coffee yet."
"Ohhh," she said, realizing the implications. "Then you do that. I can tell him if you want."
To say I was cranky before coffee was like calling the Atlantic a mud puddle, but it was hard to be crabby when she was so excited and I had a really great guy making me coffee.
I smiled. "Why don't we sit down and you can tell him about it while I caffeinate. We need to get started, so I'll hurry, but we should probably ask him rather than just give him his orders."
She smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, I guess that would be the polite way to do things."
"Well I'm all ears," Scout said as his coffee finished brewing. He took a seat at the table and Bear padded over to plop down on his feet. "Fill me in on these grand plans."
"We're gonna finish my garden today!" Maisey burst out.
Scout raised a brow. "Do tell. And how do you think we're gonna pull off that miracle, especially when we're apparently hustling to get the inside ready for a wedding?"
I held up a hand. "Let's back up a step," I said. "The demanding yet rich Ms. Pennington cut me off before I could outline what services came with the number I threw out, telling me to double it and just handle the whole thing. Th
e quote I'd given her already included everything, but she didn't really give me a chance to explain that."
"Not a bad deal then," he said. "But what does that have to do with the garden?"
"We're usin' it for the reception, and maybe even the ceremony." Maisey was beaming, her delight contagious.
"What she said," I told Scout, smiling. "Assuming you can get enough hands together to get it finished, along with all the other stuff that needs done."
He pulled in a deep breath and exhaled through pursed lips. "Y'all don't expect much, do you? Two days?"
I nodded. "I know it's a lot. But can it be done?"
I could almost see him doing the calculations in his head as he blew across his coffee cup. "It can, but it's gonna cost. I hope that estimate you gave her was hefty."
"It was," I said, grinning. I'd already decided that I didn't need any actual profit out of the deal as long as the lodge was getting done. That would free up my savings so that I'd have plenty to get by on for a few months to come. "How much will you need?"
"Five thousand, anyway," he said. "That'll cover labor and materials. We may not need that much, but I'd rather err high than low. We have to pay the guys, and if something else comes up that needs fixed—"
"That's fine," I said, interrupting before he could go too far off the rails. I didn't need details or more to worry about. I just needed to know that he'd get it done so I could get to work on the rest of the list. "As a matter of fact, I'll set back six thousand just in case."
"That'll do it for sure," he said. "But now we gotta get our butts in gear."
"Can you get the fireplace fixed for that?" I asked.
He thought for a minute. "Let me do some math and call my crew. I'd arranged for four guys, but I'm not sure if that's gonna be enough or not. I should probably get two more, and I have a friend who could fix the fireplace. He owes me a favor, so I'll see if he's available. I'd rather finish early than rush to get it done last-minute."
"Then I'll leave you to it," I said. "I'm gonna go call Stevie to see what kind of food she wants. But for now, let's take a few minutes to just enjoy the morning before we kick it into high gear."
"You do that," Maisey said, fading out, "and I'll go out back and decide where we should start."
I smiled as silence fell over the kitchen and the caffeine hit my brain, content to savor the peace for the few moments I had it.
CHAPTER TEN
I WAS JUST MAKING MY second cup when Gabe called.
"Hey, Gabe. What's up?"
"What's up is that I need to go talk to Lily Smuthers this morning, but she's being elusive. She says she's at the beauty parlor getting a perm and will be there all morning. I'm not settin' foot in that place, but you can."
"Okay, back up a sec. Who on earth is Lily Smuthers?"
"She's Aggy Small's niece. You know. The blue roses girl."
"Ohh, yeah, I bet she's gonna be an absolute delight. I'd love to, but I have to go stick myself in the eye with a sharp stick, then Dee's gonna shove some bamboo shoots under my nails."
I could almost hear his scowl. "I'd say sarcasm doesn't suit you, but I've never seen you without it," he said. "C'mon. You said you'd help. As a matter of fact, you promised to help."
Guilt washed over me, but I'd planned on talking to her later. Or to one of them, anyway. "Gabe, I kinda need to—"
"I know what you kinda need to do, but I thought we were workin' together on this. Here's your chance."
I sighed. I had promised Stevie, and I did need a trim if I was going to be one of the public faces at the wedding, but I hadn't planned to take the time to do it.
"Besides," he said, "Nikki works there, and she may have heard something. I can almost guarantee she has, in fact. Go into the belly of the beast and see what you can learn."
Six months before, I would have laughed at his dramatics, but now it was different. I'd experienced the place firsthand and had pretty much given up every single detail about myself, including confessing that I'd been scared of the dark as a kid, the first time I'd gone for a cut. He wasn't exaggerating. Those women had skill, and I'm not referring to their hair artistry, though that was a thing, too.
I huffed out a breath. "Fine, but you have to go talk to Kristina Bell. I'm no chicken, but I don't deal well with women who may actually want to stick me in the eye with a sharp stick."
"No problem," he said, sighing with relief. "I've dealt with her family for years."
"Okay then. Good luck. I'll call you as soon as I leave the shop."
"Big day ahead?" Scout asked as I ended the call.
"Bigger than I'd planned," I said, then explained what was going on. "Can you hold things down here?"
"Sure thing, sweetie. The guys are on their way, and they happen to have a couple buddies who could use a few extra bucks, too. I've got this buttoned down. Painting, fireplace, garden. Do you want me to do anything with the upstairs?"
"Nah," I replied, "Unless you just end up with more hands than work. But I don't thing that's gonna be a problem. Can you cover the expenses and I'll reimburse you later today, or do you need a credit card?"
He held up a hand and shook his head. "Don't worry about it. We can hash it out later."
"Okay, then." I bent down and gave him a kiss on my way out of the kitchen. "I'll talk to you later. And thanks a ton for all of this. I owe you big time."
He grinned and waggled his brows. "You sure do. We'll work out payment options over bottle of wine and a fabulous dinner when this is all over."
"I suppose I'm the one cooking the fabulous dinner?" I asked with a raised brow.
"You suppose right," he said, then winked at me. "But I'll help do dishes afterward."
I'd never looked forward to cleaning up after cooking, but suddenly the idea didn't seem so bad.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I CALLED NIKKI, OUR friend that worked at the shop, as I put on something that wouldn't get me vilified in the "belly of the beast" as Gabe had put it, and about collapsed with relief when she said she was working. The thought of putting my hair in the hands of any of the bouffant-pushing older stylists that worked there was almost enough to send me into a panic attack. I'd had my fair share of bad haircuts, but a ball cap would be a bit out of place at a wedding.
"No problem, sugar. I'll just call Kitty Skidmore and tell her I gotta bump her. She only comes here once a year, and that's only because she's fried her hair so bad that she can't get it straight even with an iron anymore. The woman's a brunette, but she'll deny that with her dyin' breath. Roots don't lie, though, and light orange with a tinge of green is not a naturally occurring hair color."
I laughed. "Well tell Ms. Skidmore I appreciate her sacrifice."
"Pht, I'm not even bringin' your name into it. I'll tell her I gotta run to my doctor because the results of my pregnancy and STD tests are back but he wouldn't give them to me over the phone."
I choked on my coffee as I rushed down the stairs and out the front door. "The sad part about that," I said as I did my best not to dribble coffee down the front of my shirt, "is that there's only a fifty-fifty chance you're kidding about actually telling her that."
"Oh, I'm not kiddin' sugar. She started a rumor about me in high school, so I'll just let her run with it again. I'm thick-skinned, and it amuses me to see how long it takes to get back to me."
"All right then. You do you. I'll see you in fifteen minutes."
"Bring me an iced triple-shot caramel latte, please."
"Of course. Anything else?"
"A glazed donut while you're there."
I ended the call before she could add anything else to the list, then called Stevie. She was rapidly turning into one of my favorite people. When I asked her what sort of food she'd like served, her only requests were shrimp and some of those little cocktail weenies in barbecue sauce. She left the rest to me.
When I assured her that everything was under control, she just laughed.
"As far as I'm concerned,
everything's already perfect. I'm marrying the man I love in the place where he desperately wanted to do it. Everything else is just icing."
"I'm sorry, but I gotta ask—are you adopted?" There was no way she was related to Amelia.
She laughed. "You have no idea how many times I've been asked that, but believe it or not, I'm just like my mama. Or just like she used to be, anyway, before my daddy ran off and dumped the weight of the world on her shoulders. She survived by adapting, and now she is who she is. Underneath all that bluster and attitude is a woman with a heart of gold, which is why I know she didn't kill that man. Trust me when I tell you that all she wants is for me to be happy. It's just that she doesn't always know quite what that entails no matter how many times I tell her."
"I'll have to take your word for it," I said.
"Sadly, most people do."
The parking lot was full when I pulled into the Buns, the local beauty shop. I grabbed the coffee carrier and greasy white paper bag and squared my shoulders. I'd played out a dozen scenarios in my mind about how I was going to introduce myself to Lily and broach the subject of her wedding. As it turned out, it had been a waste of time.
As soon as I sat down in Nikki's chair, she introduced me to a woman with perm rollers in her hair sitting in the chair beside me.
"Lily, this is Toni Owens. She's the one who found Charlie's body."
Every eye in the salon turned to me and I did my best to both glare at Nikki and smile at the rest of them.
"Is it true you saw his brains?" Lily asked.
I opened my mouth to respond, but didn't get the chance. A hefty middle-aged woman poked her head out from under the dryer, her painted-on brows raised.
"I heard he was nekkid. Is that true? I always wondered about him. He was just too nice."
"What?" I exclaimed. "No!"
"And what about the killer?" a woman with tin foil in her hair asked. "I heard Charlie scrawled an A and an M in blood beside himself. Or maybe it was a R and an E. I heard both. If it was an A and an M, they got the right person in jail, I reckon. But an R and E, I don't know who that might be."