by Julie Chase
I moved a little faster, imagining the soft pat of footfalls behind me despite the fact that I was grossly alone. I palmed my cell phone and considered putting Jack’s number on the screen in case I needed to send a quick call for help.
I stopped outside my shop. The door was ajar, but the space inside was dark.
I dialed Jack’s number and hovered my thumb over the green SEND button while I tried to think.
The glass wasn’t broken, and I distinctly remembered locking up and double-checking the door when I left, so whoever was inside had a key. Imogene wasn’t waiting as I’d expected. Maybe she’d used her key to get inside after all?
Or maybe whoever had stolen Imogene’s key was in there now.
I shook away the idea. No one had said Imogene’s key was stolen. That was in my imagination. Like the footfalls I thought I heard again nearby. And the hundred-year-old Axeman I sensed watching from the corner.
I planted my feet and leaned forward at the waist, cracking the door open. “Imogene?” I called into the void.
My muscles tensed. I strained to hear an answer that never came. “Imogene?” I tried again, moving my thumb across the phone screen to dial her cell phone instead of Jack’s.
A soft shuffling sound reached my ears, and I inched the door wider. Maybe she was in the back looking for her scarf? Maybe she hadn’t heard me calling her name.
Or maybe someone had seen her inside Furry Godmother after hours, mistaken her for me, and hurt her.
The call connected, and Imogene’s phone rang in stereo, both in my ear and inside my shop.
I swallowed a lump in my throat and flashed my cell phone flashlight over the space. Empty. I shoved my arm inside and slapped the row of light switches on the wall beside the door.
The room blazed to life, and a blast of happy voices and party horns erupted.
A deafening screech burst from my lips.
“Surprise!” the chorus repeated.
I flattened a palm to my chest, hoping to stop my heart from breaking my sternum.
Scarlet wrapped me in a hug. “Happy one-year anniversary of being the most amazing shop owner in all the land.”
She released me, and more arms opened. I was passed, hugger to hugger, until the shock had worn down to something manageable and I was certain I wouldn’t need an ambulance.
Mom, Dad, Imogene, and a collection of committee ladies stood with Mrs. Smart and a few of the judges, including Chase, near a buffet of delightful-looking finger foods and a punch bowl of something I hoped was spiked.
Mom met me at the end of a lengthy receiving line and squeezed my hand, a proud smile on her lips. “Sorry I had to be so short with you earlier. None of us could think of a way to get you to come back here when you were adamant about going home. I had to get my bossy pants on.”
I took my first intentional breath since getting the fright of my life, then threw my arms around her shoulders. Maybe I was proud to know she was proud of me or honored that she’d taken the time to throw me a party when I knew she was so busy, or maybe I was just thankful to be alive, but emotion stung my eyes. “Thank you,” I said.
Mom stroked my hair, then pressed a kiss to my head. “Anything for you, Lacy Marie. I know I get on your last nerves sometimes, but there is absolutely nothing in the world that means more to me than having you home, and I’m so proud of what you’ve accomplished this year.”
Dad put an arm around Mom’s back. He handed her his handkerchief, and she pressed it to the corner of each eye with a smile.
“I’m sorry I missed the exact date of the anniversary,” Mom said. “I let the pet pageant prep take over my life for a while when I should’ve kept family first.”
I reached around my parents in a group hug. “I didn’t need a party. I know you’re busy.” The lump was back in my throat as I choked out the rest of my little speech. “This is really amazing. I don’t think I know all these people. Where did you find them?”
Mom laughed and passed me Dad’s handkerchief. “Silly. Everyone knows you. These are your neighbors, friends, customers, pet pageant affiliates, and local shop owners. I think every invitation I sent came back with an enthusiastic acceptance.”
I pulled myself together and stepped back to look over the crowd. The number of pet pageant affiliates astonished me. “How did you get the committee and judges here before me? How could you have possibly made time to set this all up?” I looked at Chase and laughed again. “You told Chase to keep me busy.”
Mom smiled. “How’d he do? He was my last line of defense in case you still decided to go home after we drove away.”
“He made me search the ground for his car keys,” I complained.
“Imogene met the caterer and took care of things here while we finished at the Tea Room.”
I smiled. “You two have always been one heck of a dynamic duo.”
The door opened behind me, and I spun around on instinct, still antsy from the surprise-party scare and images of the Axeman swimming through the back of my mind.
Jack strode inside, eyes searching. When his gaze caught mine, he slowed and smiled.
I went to greet him, my enthusiasm growing when I realized he wasn’t alone. Willow and Henri walked in behind him.
“Hey!” I greeted them with hugs and thanks. My parents followed.
Henri had a bottle of scotch, which my dad helped him unload quickly, and Willow brought cookies, which my mom took for the dessert display.
“Sorry we’re late,” Jack said when my parents had gone. “It’s not easy to keep these two on task.” He hooked a thumb in the direction of his former partner and Willow.
“They’re cute,” I said, admiring the way they stood toe to toe and smiled through a private conversation, oblivious to the world.
“They knew I wanted to be here before you got here,” he said. “Instead, we ran late and tailed you up the sidewalk, trying to stay out of sight. I missed your entrance.”
I smiled up at him. “I’m just happy you were able to come and that I wasn’t completely imagining those footfalls. I thought I was losing my mind.”
“You can thank Willow for the sandals.” His mouth shifted into a lazy half smile.
I looked at Willow’s shoes, then Henri’s and Jack’s. Basically, he was suggesting that I never would have heard either of them coming without her. I didn’t want to imagine the scenario where a man Jack or Henri’s size followed me for nefarious reasons unnoticed.
I brightened my smile, focusing on the moment before me. “I was glad to hear you spoke with Eva this morning.”
He nodded. “Thanks to you.”
“It was the least I could do,” I said, “and I should’ve done it sooner. I let her push me away before when I knew she was hiding something. I should’ve kept trying. I figured that might’ve been why you stopped by my place last night, so I wanted to see her before I saw you again.”
Jack’s brows knitted together. “You think I came over last night to talk to you about my murder investigation?” He let out a breathy laugh and raked a hand through his dark hair. “You know I’m constantly hoping you’ll stay out of these things, right?”
“Yeah, but it’s too late now,” I said. “I’m all in on this one, and you have no idea how thrilled I am that this was a party and not a break-in.”
He grimaced. “You thought this was a break-in, and you still came inside?”
“I thought Imogene might be in trouble,” I said, “and I didn’t come inside blindly. I turned the lights on from the doorway, and I’d already checked for burglars with my phone light.”
He flashed me a disbelieving look with his ghost-blue eyes. Jack’s eyes were the first thing I’d really noticed about him. They were cool and clear like glass. The faint color of rain on a windowpane. I’d known back then I could get lost in them, but he was accusing me of murder at the time, and it put a damper on things.
A sharp whistle broke the drone of voices around us, and Mom thanked Chase for th
e assist as he lowered his fingers from his lips. “I just want to take a minute to thank you all for coming,” she said. “I know you love Lacy as much as I do and are just as proud and thankful for the opportunity to share this milestone with her.” Her sharp gaze landed on me, and she smiled. “Heaven knows I have my faults, and I certainly have my moments,” she said.
The crowd chuckled.
“And I’ve been called many things in my day, but my favorite of them all is mother.” She moved in my direction and took my hand, leading me away from Jack. “Lacy, you are an amazing woman, daughter, business owner, and friend. Congratulations on the one-year anniversary of Furry Godmother.”
I hugged her, and everyone cheered.
Chase performed a drumroll on my counter. His brother Carter and Scarlet joined in.
Imogene appeared in the hallway, pushing a wheeled table from the stockroom with a fancy silver cake stand in the center. A soft pink cloth draped over the top. “Time to cut the cake!” she called. Imogene positioned the cake in the room’s center and pinched the pink cloth between her fingertips. “Congratulations, Miss Lacy!” With the flick of her wrist, the pink cover was whipped away like a magician’s cape.
My favorite two-tier chocolate torte from Presto’s Bakery stood beneath a clear glass dome. Mini white fondant paw prints tracked whimsically across the chocolate frosting. A large silver knife was stabbed through the center, and something red oozed down the sides. The glass dome was streaked in matching red goo.
FINAL WARNING.
Chapter Twenty
Furry Godmother’s words of wisdom: It’s fine to make hay while the sun shines, but don’t forget to dance in the rain.
Jack and Henri split up to question my guests while Mom, Imogene, Scarlet, and I packed the fantastic buffet of finger foods and appetizers into carryout containers. Willow distributed them to our extremely confused friends as they were dismissed from my party by off-duty homicide detectives.
A set of crime scene men had come to collect my cake, the dome, pedestal, and cart. They’d promised to return the property after processing, but Mom had told them to keep them.
Mom waved cordially to another round of dismissed partygoers, then fixed her wild blue eyes on me. “Would you please tell me just what the hell is going on here?” she hissed.
Imogene hummed a disapproving note at Mom’s mild cuss. She snapped the lid on another plastic container and raised her eyebrows into her hairline. “There’s a whole lot of unsavory things going on in here tonight.”
Chase smiled from behind the broom he was pushing across my floor. “Those Crocker women look sweet, but they’ve got mouths like sailors.”
Mom rolled her eyes long and slow. “You’d better stick around, Chase Hawthorne,” she said. “I might need to get out of a child abuse charge if Lacy doesn’t start explaining herself.”
Chase abandoned his broom to slide an arm around my back. “I’m afraid I would be forced to defend the child in that scenario.”
Mom smacked her lips. “Of course you would.”
“I told you someone was threatening me after Viktor died,” I whispered through a careful smile.
“I had no idea it was still happening.” Mom looked from me to Chase, then widened her eyes. “Was that what happened with the bulls? Someone intentionally sent them after you?”
“Maybe,” I said. “We can’t be sure, and I don’t think bulls work like that, but someone did tamper with the gate, and I was there.”
Dad poured another finger of scotch. His third.
Mom cast her attention briefly to Mrs. Smart and the committee ladies across the room. “What else?” she asked me. “You usually tell me as little as possible. So I know you left something out. What is it?”
I shrugged. “You already know about the paper lady on my shop door. There was a bike messenger delivery and a note in my judges’ packet. That’s it. And for the record, the bulls might be a coincidence.”
Mom handed the last of the to-go containers to Willow. “What can I do?”
“Nothing,” I said honestly, knowing the word killed her. Mom was a doer.
“All right.” She rubbed a towel over shaky hands, then straightened her dress. “I guess. I’ll call the car to take the ladies home. Your father can drive me.”
“You okay?” I asked her, leaning against Chase at my side.
“No,” she said. “I was excited for the pageant to arrive, but now I just wish it would all be over, so you will be safe and Mrs. Smart can go home. I can’t take another minute of listening to her complain about how her husband’s animal-lover’s paradise has become nothing more than an overpriced cockfight.”
I forced myself not to ask what constituted a well-priced cockfight. “I thought you liked Mrs. Smart,” I said.
Mom looked exhausted. “I do, but if I have to hear one more story about how things were done in her time, I’m going to lose my ever-loving mind. Do yourself a favor and don’t even get her started on Viktor Petrov. That’s one woman who doesn’t mind speaking ill of the dead.”
“It’s easy to understand,” I said. “With Viktor, there was plenty not to like.”
Mom rolled her eyes. “She blames him for the condition the pageant is in today. She says people only tuned in to see Viktor, and they were the wrong kind of people. She’s even speculated that a crazed fan might’ve slipped in for an autograph, been rebuffed by the king of sass, and tossed him off the balcony for it.”
I grimaced. I hadn’t even thought of anything like that. I gave Mrs. Smart another look. “Do you think she’s heard something?” Could Viktor have had a stalker? I thought of the notes Jack had mentioned. Letters telling Viktor to resign.
Jack moved into the mix of committee ladies and spoke with them as a group.
“I don’t know what she knows,” Mom said, “but I’m exhausted. I’m going to call the car.”
An hour later, the shop was clean, and everyone was gone except Jack, Henri, Willow, and me.
Henri set his phone on the counter and put some music on to lighten the mood. “I am so glad that’s over,” he said. “I’m starving.”
I handed him one of the leftover buffet boxes, then helped myself to one of Willow’s cookies.
Jack picked one up, too.
“Careful,” I said. “I don’t know what she puts in these, but they’re potent. One bite and your cares will start to drift away.”
Jack shoved an entire petit four into his mouth and chewed. “Maybe I’ll have two,” he said.
“You’d be smarter to finish the scotch,” I warned. “She is Veda’s granddaughter, after all.”
“Right,” Jack said, taking a second cookie. “The one with the magical cookie shop I don’t believe in.”
“Correct.” I nibbled the icing around the sides of my cookie, and my lips turned up in a smile.
Willow floated through the room, long hair and skirt billowing at her sides. “I love this song,” she said, humming along to the tune. Eventually she spun herself to a stop beside Jack and me. “It’s a real bummer about your cake, Lacy,” she said. “It was beautiful except for that knife.”
“Details,” I said.
Jack grinned. “What’s in these cookies?” He sucked filling off his thumb and watched Willow. “They’re amazing.”
“Just lots of added love,” she said. “I kept imagining Lacy’s smile and all the things I knew about her big heart while I was baking. Her love for this city, the district, her friends and family, animals, strangers, and fashion. Everything.”
“That’s a lot of love,” Jack said.
I couldn’t tell if he was making fun of me or Willow.
“Lacy took me in and made me her friend for no reason at all,” Willow said. “People just don’t do that anymore. I wanted the cookies to be perfect for her.”
“Well, I think you accomplished your goal,” he said, choosing another from the box.
Willow snagged a chunk of roasted cauliflower from Henri’s mini
-buffet sampler box. “Do you have any ideas about who’s threatening you?” she asked me.
“Not really,” I said. “Someone related to the pageant who wants me to stop asking questions about Viktor’s death. That’s all we know, and there are about one hundred and fifty people associated with the event. They’ll probably all be gone before we know for sure who’s behind any of this.”
“Why?” she asked, her nearly perpetual smile slipping.
Jack rubbed his eyes. “About ninety percent of them are from towns across the country.”
“Which is good and bad, “I said. “On the one hand, the killer might get away. On the other hand, my threats should stop.”
Willow tented her brows. “Yeah, but you have to stay safe until then. That has to get tricky when you’re working with the killer every night, and it looks as if whoever it was came to your party. Stood right here with us, eating your hors d’oeuvres and mingling with your friends like a psychopath.”
I shivered.
“How many of the guests were from the pageant?” Willow asked.
Jack dusted his palms. “Twenty.”
“Great.” Willow perked up. “You just narrowed your suspect pool by more than one hundred.”
She was right. Imogene had confirmed that the cake was perfect when it was delivered while she was setting up for the party. She’d put it in the stockroom herself, but the stockroom was right beside the bathroom at the end of the little hallway, where anyone from the party could have slipped away without drawing attention.