Brewing Death

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Brewing Death Page 2

by P. D. Workman


  Other women started coming in the door. Melissa, with her mass of brown curls, eyes sparkling as she gossiped with Clara Jones, who she sometimes worked with at the police department’s administrative office. Clara was wearing a green dress, which Erin wasn’t sure looked good with Clara’s brassy curls and oversize jewelry. Clara seemed to enjoy drawing attention to herself, positive or negative.

  Lottie was there, along with several others of the usual crowd. They all got quieter at the sight of Charley. Though Erin was sure they knew who Charley was, she introduced her anyway, trying to make everyone feel comfortable. Vic brought out the platters of cookies and confections, and everyone chattered at once, admiring the treats and discussing which were their favorites. Erin circulated, pouring water and making sure everyone had everything they needed. Eventually, everyone had been served, and there was nothing much more for Erin to do than just enjoy her guests and listen to them talk.

  “I understand you are trying to open up The Bake Shoppe again,” Melissa said to Charley. “How is that coming along?”

  “Slower than a herd of turtles,” Charley answered, shaking her head. “I mean… I know small towns do things slow, but how long can it take to decide the place is worth more open than closed?”

  Sympathetic nods from around the table. They all knew about small-town bureaucracy and how hard it was to get people to make a decision.

  “I managed to get ahold of Joelle Biggs,” Charley went on. “Asked her if she’d come meet with me to go over everything.”

  The room fell utterly silent.

  Charley looked around, her eyes wide. She looked over at Erin and raised her brows. “Uh… what?”

  “Why would you ask her to come back to Bald Eagle Falls?” Erin asked, her voice coming out much more calm than she really felt.

  “She holds Davis’s power of attorney, so if I can get her to agree with me, she can just sign a consent on his behalf, and then the trustees don’t have a leg to stand on. We’re the only two beneficiaries of the bakery, and if we both say we want to go ahead and open it up again, why would they object? As soon as it’s gone through probate, we’re the ones who are going to making all the decisions on it.”

  “Why would Joelle agree to come back here?” Lottie demanded. “She’s the one who killed Trenton Plaint! How could she dare show her face here again?”

  “We couldn’t prove that it was done intentionally,” Vic pointed out. “I guess she knows there’s nothing we can do about it.”

  Erin saw Charley’s eyes flash. She certainly intended to do something about it, and Erin worried that it wasn’t just having a little chat with her. Yes, she wanted the bakery open, but that wasn’t all she wanted.

  But instead of protesting, Charley just gave a lazy shrug and raised her teacup to her lips. “I don’t see how it’s anyone’s business but my own.”

  The other ladies huffed and rolled their eyes but didn’t come up with a reason that Charley should have to justify herself to them. It was true, as much as they liked to know all of what was going on and to give endless advice on the right way to do things, they didn’t have any control over what Charley and Joelle did and weren’t in a position to be making any demands. Of course, that hadn’t stopped them when Erin had moved into Bald Eagle Falls to open a second bakery. She had been the outsider then, and everyone had made it clear that she should be reopening the tea room rather than a bakery. Especially a gluten-free bakery, of all things.

  “We’ll just have to see how it all unfolds,” Erin said, hoping to soothe the nettled tempers. She looked over in Vic’s direction. Vic was the one who was best at defusing things. She always seemed to know the right thing to say.

  “Can’t knit a sweater before the sheep is shorn,” Vic agreed, making everyone laugh.

  In a few minutes, the conversation moved on to other things, and Erin gave a sigh of relief. She would have to keep an eye on Charley. Maybe inviting her to the ladies’ tea hadn’t been the best idea.

  Chapter 2

  Surprisingly, it was Mary Lou who was the first to stand up and make motions toward leaving. She was usually one of the last ones to go, sticking around to help gather up the dishes and brush away the crumbs to help Erin and Vic out.

  She caught Erin’s eyes on her. “I’m sorry. Duty calls. Roger hasn’t been feeling well this week. I don’t want to leave him to himself for too long.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Erin sympathized. “Is there anything he’d like? I could send you home with some cookies…?”

  “No, that’s fine, thank you. Don’t want to do business on the Sabbath. What he really needs is for me to be home.”

  “I meant I would give them to you, not that you had to pay,” Erin tried to correct the misunderstanding.

  “I’m certainly not taking anything without paying for it. You’re running a business here, and you’re going to need every sale you can get.” Mary gave a significant look in Charley’s direction. Her meaning was clear. Erin was going to be in trouble when The Bake Shoppe reopened.

  “We’ll manage,” Erin assured her. She didn’t feel quite as certain as she let on. The bakery’s first year had not been an easy one, and she wasn’t yet mentally prepared to face the competition of another bakery in town. There would still be people who had to come to Auntie Clem’s for the gluten-free baking, but not enough of them to support the business. How many others would stay loyal to Auntie Clem’s if they didn’t need gluten-free or other allergen-free goods? Would they all just go back to The Bake Shoppe when it opened?

  Mary Lou put her thin, well-manicured hand on Erin’s arm as she walked by. “That’s right, dear,” she agreed. “I’m sure it will be fine.”

  Erin didn’t expect Joelle to show up in town right away. In spite of what Charley had said, Erin figured Joelle would play it cool, saying that she would come but in no hurry to do so. What murder suspect in her right mind would just waltz back into town as if she didn’t have a care in the world?

  But the week wasn’t out before Erin saw Joelle, with her chic yoga pants and long, spidery limbs, walk right by the bakery. Erin turned to Vic to point Joelle out, but Vic had already seen, and had turned toward Erin, eyes wide, mouth open to make a comment about it.

  Erin grinned. “Miss Joelle Biggs is back in town,” she acknowledged.

  “Still can’t believe Charley was able to talk her into coming.”

  The bakery was pretty quiet, with only the elderly Potters standing there looking at the display case and waffling over the choices. Vic slipped out from behind the counter and walked to the front window to watch Joelle’s progress down the street.

  “Where is she going?” Erin asked.

  “They must be meeting at The Bake Shoppe.”

  “Should somebody go over there…?”

  Vic’s eyebrows went up. “And do what, exactly?”

  “I don’t know. Make sure they don’t kill each other.”

  “And pray tell, how would we do that?”

  Erin leaned on the counter, trying to come up with an answer. The last time she had been into The Bake Shoppe was when Trenton had died, poisoned by the muffins Joelle had purchased at Auntie Clem’s Bakery. Just thinking about it made her muscles tense up and her breathing grow shallower. She and Terry Piper had spent hours keeping up CPR until an ambulance from the city could get there. Erin rubbed her biceps. What an ordeal that had been. And a hopeless one, as it turned out. Trenton had never revived.

  “I don’t know. But I don’t think they should be left alone together.”

  “We’ve got no reason to go into their place of business. We can’t stop them from having a meeting.”

  Erin fought the urge to bite her nails. She tried to distract herself, turning to the Potters with a pasted-on smile. “See anything you like today?”

  “We were thinking of the chocolate muffins,” Mrs. Potter started out, her quavery voice slow and deliberate.

  “Good choice,” Erin approved. She reached for the mu
ffins. “How many would you like?”

  “But then we were looking at the blueberry ones,” Mr. Potter put in.

  Erin wasn’t fooled a second time. She waited for the next installment in the story.

  “We did have muffins last week,” Mrs. Potter noted.

  “Yes. So, something a little different this week? Maybe cookies or some fresh rosemary bread? I know you like that…”

  “Mrs. Potter likes the rosemary,” Mr. Potter disagreed. “I like the poppyseed.”

  “I have poppyseed bagels today,” Erin said desperately, pointing to them.

  “Mmm…” Both of the Potters gazed into the display case, considering the poppyseed bagels and everything else in turn.

  Erin raised her eyes to Vic, who was turning away from the front window with a mirthful smile. She walked back to her place behind the counter. “You can’t rush the future,” she advised placidly.

  Erin settled back to wait. It wasn’t like there was a line up behind the Potters. Things would be quiet until school let out. Assuming Charley and Joelle didn’t kill each other.

  The doorbell rang after supper, and Erin had a pretty good idea who it was going to be. She hadn’t set the burglar alarm yet, and she took a careful look through the peephole before opening the door to him.

  Officer Terry Piper and his faithful partner K9 stood on the steps waiting. Erin smiled at her favorite police officer. “Come on in,” she invited.

  They made themselves at home, Terry sitting down in his preferred chair, and K9 lying down at his feet with a snort and a sigh.

  “What can I get you?” Erin offered. “Coffee? Cinnamon rolls?”

  “Oh, both of those sound great,” Terry approved. “I don’t know when the last time I had a cinnamon roll was.”

  “And you’re on duty tonight, so coffee is okay?”

  He nodded his agreement. K9 watched Erin intently while she went into the kitchen to warm up a roll. Orange Blossom jumped down from the couch, hissed at K9, and then stalked after Erin on stiff legs.

  Erin tossed him a couple of kitty treats while she warmed up the cinnamon roll, and he skittered across the kitchen after them like a kitten, making her laugh. Erin put a doggie biscuit in her pocket to free up her hands for the coffee and roll, and took them into the living room.

  “I should probably have come into the kitchen to eat this,” Terry commented, taking the plate from her. “I don’t want to make a mess in your parlor.”

  “If you drop crumbs, the animals will vacuum them up.”

  K9 put his head back down between his paws with a grumble. Erin pulled the biscuit out of her pocket.

  “Did you think I forgot about you?”

  K9 sat up eagerly and took the treat from her, then lay down with it to eat.

  “They’re just like kids,” Terry said. “Feed them once, and you can expect to have to do the same thing every single time you see them. It’s a good thing we spend plenty of time walking, or we’d both be fat.”

  “You don’t need to worry about your weight,” Erin dismissed, glancing at Terry’s heavy work belt, buckled at exactly the same hole as always.

  “Where’s Vic tonight? Did she and Willie make up?”

  “Did you know they were on the outs? I didn’t realize it until Saturday.”

  He nodded, grunting something through the cinnamon roll.

  “She went to see Adele,” Erin said, in answer to his question. “We haven’t seen much of her lately and I have something to give her.”

  “How is that working out? You don’t regret letting her live in the cottage and being your groundskeeper?”

  “No. She’s great. She doesn’t get in the way and make demands. She makes improvements and keeps rowdy teenagers to a minimum. It’s worked out just great.”

  “Good. I wasn’t sure, when you took her on, that it was the right thing to do. None of us really knew anything about her.”

  Erin gave a little shrug. “We all have to start somewhere. I felt good about her, and I know what it’s like to be new in town and need a little bit of help. She doesn’t ask much. She just… needed a friend, I guess.”

  “Sometimes people can mislead you… I’d hate to see someone take advantage of you. You can’t trust everyone.”

  “I don’t.”

  He studied her for a moment, then nodded and went back to eating his cinnamon roll. He licked his fingers. “Oh, those are so rich. Great job, Erin.”

  Erin’s face warmed at his words of praise. She took the empty plate from him, trying to mask her embarrassment.

  There were voices in the back yard, and then Vic and Adele came in through the back door and into the kitchen.

  “Hello,” Vic called out, giving Erin and Terry a wave.

  Adele hesitated for a moment. “You have company.”

  “Come in, come in. Terry’s not company, and neither are you. You’re family. The more the merrier.”

  Adele considered, then inclined her head. She walked through the kitchen into the living room. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around much the last week. Nothing is wrong, I’ve just had… a lot to do.”

  “That’s fine. We just wanted to make sure that you were okay. You’re kind of isolated, and if something happened to you… well,” Erin shrugged uncomfortably, “I’d want to know about it sooner rather than later.”

  The stately woman said nothing.

  “Anyway,” Erin realized she was still holding Terry’s empty plate in her hand and walked into the kitchen to put it in the sink. “I have some things that you might like. You don’t need to take anything you don’t want, but…”

  Erin gestured to the boxes she had filled for Adele. Adele opened one of the lids and looked at the jumble of teas and herbs.

  “Sorry, it’s not organized…”

  “No, this is fine,” Adele said, poking through the contents. “I’d be happy to take it back to the cottage and have a look through it. Thank you.” She opened the other box and picked up the recipe books on top. “These look intriguing.”

  “I don’t know if any of it is worth anything to you, or if you already know all of this…” While Erin had kept a few baking books for herself, she really didn’t have any use for the old herbal remedy books Clementine had collected.

  “These are lovely. There’s always more wisdom to be gathered.”

  “Good.”

  Adele opened the hardcover notebook that had Clementine’s own recipes in it. “Oh, are you sure? This looks special.”

  “They’re Clementine’s tea recipes and other herbal remedies. I’ve kept some of her other recipes, but I don’t have room for everything. If you don’t want it…”

  “No, I’m honored. I just wanted to make sure you really wanted me to have that one. You can ask for it back if you change your mind…”

  “No, really, it’s for you. I don’t have the time to spend on herbal remedies as well as everything else already on my plate.” Erin giggled at her own pun. “Go ahead, use it as you like. I hope you can get something out of it.”

  “Thank you. I’ll put it to good use.”

  Erin nodded and headed back to the living room. Orange Blossom sat in the doorway of the kitchen, staring intently at Adele, but not going in and demanding a treat like he normally would.

  “Why is he looking at you like that?”

  “Maybe he would like to talk to me.”

  Vic laughed. “Orange Blossom talks to everyone. It’s when he shuts up that it’s surprising.”

  Adele extended her fingers and called softly to the cat. “Puss, puss?”

  Orange Blossom looked at Erin, then back at Adele, and entered the kitchen, approaching her cautiously. Erin glanced over at Vic and saw that her eyes were big as she watched the cat and the woman who called herself a witch.

  “Did you want to tell me something?” Adele asked the cat.

  Orange Blossom sniffed Adele’s fingers, then bent his head and smelled her shoes, raising his head again with his mouth partl
y open.

  “You must have stepped in something good,” Vic chuckled.

  “Maybe catnip,” Erin suggested. “Does catnip grow around here?”

  “Certainly,” Adele said. She gave Orange Blossom’s ears a scratch. “He probably smells Skye.”

  “Skye?” Erin echoed.

  “The crow.”

  “Oh,” Erin had seen the crow that was not Adele’s pet a few times. She got the feeling that he wasn’t often very far away, but he didn’t go into Adele’s house, and he only landed to perch on her shoulder or hand briefly, and then after communing with her would fly away again. “I guess I never knew his name. You never really talk about him.”

  “There’s not much to say,” Adele said with a shrug. She straightened. “He’s a crow.”

  “You said he’s not your pet; is he—”

  “He’s her familiar,” Vic interrupted. “A spirit helper. Isn’t he?”

  Adele looked at Vic, her brows drawn down. “Skye is a crow. He likes the peanuts I give him. I wouldn’t speculate on things I knew nothing about if I was you, Victoria.”

  Vic flushed. “I just thought… well, witches have animals to help them, no matter what you call them, don’t you?”

  “You like having animals around, don’t you?” Adele said. “Orange Blossom and Marshmallow? You grew up on a farm with other animals, probably dogs and livestock, at least.”

  “Sure. I like animals.”

  “So do I. I like to be close to nature and I like to be close to non-human animals. When you’ve been around an animal for a while, you get to learn its body language and habits. You develop a friendship.”

  Vic nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Skye doesn’t belong to me. But I miss him when he’s not around.”

  Vic didn’t pursue it any further.

  “Come in for a visit,” Erin invited, motioning to the living room. They all joined Terry in the living room. Erin sat down next to Terry. “I guess you know Joelle is back in town.”

 

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