by Maria Geraci
Luckily, Will seems oblivious to Sarah’s machinations. “Want some help?” he asks.
Even though I don’t need help, I’m about to say yes, when who pops into my booth? None other than my arch-nemesis, Brittany Kelly.
3
“Hey, Lucy!” she chirps like she’s ecstatic to see me, and even this is a lie because Brittany Kelly can’t stand my guts. She’s still mad that I called her out in kindergarten for stealing the paint brushes. From Girl Scouts to high school, she’s made my life miserable. In a completely passive aggressive way, because to the rest of the world, Brittany is the epitome of the beautiful sweet southern deb.
“Hey, Brittany!” I mimic back.
She’s wearing a skin-tight sequined gown, and her auburn hair is artfully arranged in a flattering up do. Even though we’re outside on the grass, she’s wearing four-inch heels. It’s like she’s reviving her look from prom night when she was crowned queen.
“What an interesting costume,” Sarah muses.
“You like it?” Brittany slowly circles around so we can admire her assets (literally).
“Who are you supposed to be?” Will asks. Although Will has never said it aloud, I know he finds Brittany attractive. His whole body practically hums whenever she’s around.
“The movie star from Gilligan’s Island. Technically I suppose it’s not a movie character, but I don’t think you can get more sixties beachy than Ginger.”
“You look cute,” Sarah concedes, because she’s honest, and yes, Brittany is killing the Ginger look.
“Thanks, Sarah!” Her eyes get a sparkly look in them. Brittany has brown eyes, but they’re not regular brown eyes like mine. They’re so light that sometimes you think they’re green and other times you aren’t sure. They’re her best feature. And she knows it. Besides her hair. She also has incredible hair. And an adorable nose and a gorgeous figure and…
The whole thing is so unfair.
“Lucy,” Brittany says. “Who are you dressed as?”
I would think it was apparent, but I fake smile and say, “Annette Funicello.”
“Oh.” She pauses for effect. “You should have told me you were having trouble coming up with something original. We could have coordinated outfits. You would have been an adorable Mary Ann!”
Right. Not that Mary Ann wasn’t attractive, but the way Brittany emphasizes the word adorable it’s like Mary Ann was Ginger’s pet hamster. She would have probably insisted I wear baggy overalls and had straw sticking out of my hair.
“By the way, Lucy, I saw your audition tape for Muffin Wars. I’ve got my fingers crossed for you!”
“What? I mean…how is that possible?” I sputter.
“Daddy has a friend who works for The Cooking Channel, and when he came across an audition tape from someone local, he called Daddy to find out all about you. Naturally, Daddy put in a good word for you.”
Great. Now if I get on the show, I’ll have to wonder if it’s because they really liked my muffins or if it’s because of Brittany’s dad pulling strings on my behalf.
Brittany’s family owns The Harbor House, Whispering Bay’s fanciest restaurant. I worked there washing dishes during the summers while I was in high school. At first, I thought it was cool of Brittany’s dad to give me a job, but in hindsight, I think it was just so that Brittany could lord it over me at school. Still, it was a good experience. Even though the work was hard, it’s where I discovered my passion for baking.
You’d think growing up in the restaurant business, Brittany would feel the same way too. But not only does she have no interest, her culinary skills amount to zilch. “I can’t even boil an egg!” I heard her brag one day as if this is something to be proud of.
Brittany went to Florida State University where she majored in sorority princess and marketing. After graduation, her daddy got her a job on the Chamber of Commerce doing PR for the city. She’s the one who came up with the Safest City in America tagline that everyone thinks is so wonderful. I hate to admit it, but it’s not half bad.
Brittany says in a staged low voice that everyone can still hear, “Lucy, can I give you some pointers? If you get picked to be on T.V., and I mean, of course, you’ll get picked, you might want to lose a little weight. The camera always adds ten pounds.”
“I think Lucy looks really healthy,” Will says in my defense.
I study Will carefully for any signs of deception, but there’s…nothing. These are the times I wish I knew if Will was telling the truth or just lying to be nice. Because if he’s telling the truth, maybe it means he finds me attractive. Which means maybe I have a chance with him. On the other hand, “healthy” could also be interpreted to mean something entirely different.
“Oh, Will,” Brittany says in a little girl voice that grates on my nerves, “Lucy is so lucky to have you for a friend!” She bats her lashes at him then proceeds to bore us with details of her last vacation. To be fair, the trip was to Paris. But instead of telling us about all the wonderful French food she ate and the interesting places she got to visit, all she talks about is the great shopping.
Ugh. I don’t think I can stand much more of this.
“I can get the coffee by myself,” I mutter even though no one’s paying attention to me.
I search the grounds until I find Gus, who’s over by the main stage. He and some of the other Gray Flamingos are in the middle of counting votes for the costume contest. I’m still holding onto hope that I win. I mean, yes, there are a lot of Annettes here, but half of them are wearing wigs. No one’s hair is as big as mine. Surely that must count for something.
“I hate to bother you, but can you open the kitchen door for me again? I have to replenish the coffee cart.”
“Here, you can have the keys.” Gus reaches into his pocket and comes up empty. He gazes around the table and frowns. “I know I put them somewhere.”
Viola patiently searches until she finds them. “Sorry! Things have been so disorganized. The one for the kitchen door has a red dot on it.”
“Thanks!”
I wheel the empty food cart into the building and make my way to the kitchen. I’m almost finished gathering the supplies we’ll need to replenish the coffee station when I hear a familiar whimpering sound. I turn and see a little tan dog huddled in the corner.
“Paco! What are you doing here?” I scoop him up and clutch him to my chest. He’s trembling. How on earth did Abby’s dog get inside the building? She wasn’t with the other members of the Sunshine Ghost Society who came by the booth, but she must be here at the festivities.
Maybe she’s avoiding me after yesterday’s brouhaha over the tuna salad sandwich.
Whatever. She’ll just have to get over it.
“Are you okay, little guy?” Paco licks my hand, but he’s still trembling. “Let’s go find your momma.”
I leave the cart inside the kitchen and walk out into the sunshine. There are even more people here now than before. Combing through the crowd, I see lots of familiar faces, but no sign of Abby.
Sarah is probably wondering what’s keeping me. I should probably take Paco back to the food booth. Maybe Sarah can watch him until Abby shows up. My eyes are itching, and my nose is running. There’s absolutely no doubt that I’m allergic to this sweet little dog.
I weave our way through the crowd. I’m almost back to the food pavilion when Paco starts struggling against me. Before I can stop him, he leaps from my arms and runs away.
Blast! What if he takes off for the beach? Or worse, the road? If anything happens to Paco, I’ll never forgive myself, so I run after him. Good thing I’m wearing tennis shoes.
He’s almost back to the building when I trip over a hibiscus bush and land face first in the dirt. Luckily, the bush cushioned my weight so that I’m not hurt, but there’s blood dripping from my elbow. I straighten up and brush the dirt off my face and feel my hair for any damage. Even though I can’t see myself, I’m confident there’s not a hair out of place. Maybe all that hai
rspray wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
Paco is waiting for me by a side door to the building. He’s panting (yeah, me too, buddy) like he’s out of breath and looking at me with those adorable eyes of his like he’s trying to tell me something.
“You want to go back inside?” A part of me feels foolish talking to him like he can understand me, but he wags his tail and barks as if he’s answering.
“I’ll take that as a yes. But this is the wrong door, sweetie.”
There must be at least eight keys on this ring. I have no idea which one will open this particular door. On a whim, I place my hand over the knob and Paco yelps in excitement, like he’s encouraging me on.
I turn the knob, and the door opens.
Huh. That’s weird. I thought Gus said all the doors were supposed to be locked.
I walk into a small room filled with boxes, which leads me to think this is a storage area. Since I’m here, I might as well head back to the kitchen to collect the coffee cart.
Except Paco takes off running. Again. Which is really annoying.
At least this time there are no bushes to trip over.
“Paco!” I yell. “Come back this instant!”
I search the kitchen but he’s not there, so I make my way into the large main room. There’s a table set up with balloons and flyers in anticipation of the tours, but there’s no sign of Paco.
Then I hear the sound of his toe nails clicking against the tile floors. “I hear you!” My voice echoes in the vast empty building.
Paco barks in response like we’re playing a game.
I follow the sound through a hallway and into an empty classroom.
“Ha! I found you!”
Paco sits there patiently like he’s been waiting for me to show up. Then he looks down at something, and it takes me a few seconds to realize what it is.
It’s Abby.
She’s lying perfectly still like she’s asleep, only…there’s a little puddle of blood on the floor next to her head.
Oh my God.
I crouch next to her and shake her arm. “Abby, are you all right?”
Paco looks at me with those big eyes like he’s begging me to help her. It’s been a while since I took a CPR course and I’ve never had to use it, but I don’t think the basics have changed.
I check to make sure Abby is breathing, which, she’s not. Then I check the vein in her neck for a pulse and my own pulse goes wildly out of control.
I push up the sleeve of her sweater and check her wrist to make sure I haven’t made a mistake.
But I haven’t.
It looks as if I don’t have to worry about Abby holding the tuna salad sandwich incident over my head because Abby isn’t asleep.
She’s dead.
4
“Lucy, are you sure?” Will asks.
“There’s no pulse, and she’s not breathing. So yeah, I’m pretty sure she’s dead.” I shudder. Poor Abby. What was she doing inside the rec center? Since I didn’t have my cell phone on me, the only thing I could do was run back to the food pavilion to get help.
Will notifies the cops, then he, Sarah and Brittany all follow me back inside the building.
Why Brittany has to tag along, I have no idea. It’s not like she’s going to be a big help or anything. She takes one step into the room and stops cold. “Oh my God,” she whimpers. “This is my classroom.”
“What do you mean, your classroom?” I ask.
“Didn’t I tell you? I just got my Pilates teaching certificate. I’m going to be leading the 8 p.m. class on Tuesday and Thursdays.” She closes one eye as she peers at Abby. “I’ve never seen a dead person before. I mean, other than at a wake.”
Neither have I.
Other than the puddle of blood by her head, Abby looks like she does on every other normal day that she walks into The Bistro for lunch. The whole thing is eerie. We stand there staring down at her like a bunch of rubberneckers.
I’m still holding Paco. His shivering has subsided, but he has to be traumatized. “Poor little guy,” I mutter, holding him tightly. “He must have been with Abby when she fell.”
“Is that what you think happened?” asks Sarah.
“I guess so. She must have been looking around then slipped and hit her head.”
Nobody else says anything until the cops show up. It’s Rusty Newton and, Thank God, Zeke Grant is with him. Rusty has been on the Whispering Bay police force since forever. He’s a good old boy and super sweet, but think Barney Fife from the old Andy Griffith show, and you’ll know why I’m happy that Zeke is here too.
“What happened?” Zeke asks in a quiet, authoritative voice.
I explain how I found Abby.
“Rusty,” Zeke says, “Tell Jenna to cancel the tours. And call Travis. I left him at the security tent, but I think we’re going to need him here.”
“Aye-aye, chief!” As morbid as this sounds, Rusty looks more excited than when I put the lemon poppy seed muffins on sale last week. Those are his favorite, and he stops by The Bistro every morning to get one along with his cup of coffee.
“I thought you’d be home with Mimi and the babies,” I say to Zeke while Rusty makes the call.
“I dropped by to make sure the security detail was running smoothly,” Zeke explains. “I have a new cop on the force with lots of experience, so I’m going to let him handle this.” He asks us all not to touch anything. Then he says his goodbyes.
Rusty walks around Abby making tsking sounds. After a few minutes, a new cop appears on the scene. This must be the infamous Travis Fontaine we’ve heard so much about.
He’s tall, with dark blond hair and green eyes like his father. He meets my gaze, but there’s none of his father’s friendliness or warmth. Instead, his eyes cut through me like razor blades. He looks at Abby then back at me. Any second now I expect fire to come snorting out his nose.
“Are you the one who found Miss Delgado?” he asks in a deep voice with a healthy dose of Texas. A little shiver of something runs up my spine. Attraction? No. That can’t be it. Must be leftover tension from finding poor Abby dead.
“Lucy McGuffin. That’s me.”
“I’m Officer Travis Fontaine.” He stares at my hair for a second, blinks, then eyes the rest of the group. “Can I have your names, please?”
Before anyone else can introduce themselves, Brittany begins to whimper. “I thought…that is…” She gasps like she can’t catch her breath. “I think I’m going to faint…” And then in a dramatic swoon, she begins her descent to the ground in slow motion.
Both Travis and Will lunge for her, but Travis is faster.
Even though she’s fainting (or whatever it is she’s doing), Brittany manages to collapse gracefully into Travis’s arms. I have to give her credit. She’s good.
“Miss, are you all right?” Travis looks down at her with concern.
“I’m… Oh, yes! Thank you so much, Officer!” Only Brittany could make a mundane word like “officer” sound sexy.
Travis carefully sets her on her feet like she’s a delicate piece of china he’s afraid will break.
Sarah secures Brittany by the elbow as Will rustles up a folding chair. Her movie star gown is so tight I wonder how she’ll manage to sit without splitting a seam. She folds herself into the chair, and nothing pops or bursts. Go, Brittany!
“Can we get her some juice?” Travis asks Rusty.
Rusty makes a disappointed face like this is beneath him, but he does what Travis asks. Frankly, I don’t blame Rusty. For one thing, I’m sure he doesn’t want to be bossed around by this younger cop, plus, I doubt Brittany needs the juice.
Travis gets all our names and writes everything down in a notebook. A couple of other people show up and introduce themselves. They’re from the county coroner’s office. One of them takes pictures. The other one scours the area for what, I don’t know, but he’s taking measurements. Occasionally he’ll pick something up off the floor and place it inside a baggie. It occurs
to me that they’re making a big production over an accident. It’s like we’ve walked straight into an episode of CSI.
“What made you come inside the building?” Travis asks me. “The tours aren’t supposed to begin for almost another hour.”
“I was in here earlier, well, in the kitchen, that is, to get supplies to make the coffee.”
“And that’s what you were doing? Getting more supplies?”
“At first, yes. That’s how I found Paco.”
“Paco?”
“The dog.” I lift Paco’s paw and move it up and down like he’s waving. “Say hello to Officer Fontaine.”
The officer in question doesn’t crack a smile. Which under the circumstances is probably appropriate, but jeez. Whenever I’m scared or overwhelmed, I find solace in humor, but I can’t imagine this guy ever smiling.
“Paco was in here by himself. At least, I thought he was by himself. He belongs to Derrick, that’s Abby’s brother. She’s dog sitting for him. Or, she was.” It just occurred to me that I can’t use present tense when talking about Abby anymore. I stifle another shudder.
“And that’s when you found Ms. Delgado?”
“Not at first. Paco was pretty skittish, so I picked him up to take him outside, but then he ran away from me. That’s when he led me back inside the building.”
“He led you back?”
I nod.
“How did he do that exactly?”
“He ran this way, and he was barking. You know, like he was talking to me. In dog speak.”
There’s a pause. “Are you some kind of dog expert?”
I don’t like his tone of voice, but since he’s a cop and I was raised to respect authority, I’ll let it go. This time. “Actually, I’m allergic to them.”
“But you’re familiar with this particular dog?”
“Sure. Abby brought Paco to The Bistro yesterday. That’s the café Sarah and I own. Only his real name isn’t Paco.”
He frowns. “What do you mean that’s not his real name?”
Rats. Me and my big mouth. I’m not about to explain my special “gift” to Officer Fontaine. First off, I doubt he’d believe me. I’ve only known him ten minutes, but I can already tell this guy has a stick up his butt.