by Jenn Cowan
Violet nods and hiccups.
Travis walks in. “Autumn, it’s time to go.” I squeeze Violet’s hand once more, then follow Travis out of the room. My mind’s racing with scenarios as we make our way to Travis’s SUV.
“I can’t believe this,” Travis mutters as we walk outside.
The crisp evening air hits me and I shiver. Warmth instantly consumes me along with the familiar smell of woodsy cologne. I glance down and see Travis’s suit coat draped over my shoulders. I smile up at him and he winks at me as we walk toward his SUV. What were we talking about again? Oh, right. “What can’t you believe?”
“No one’s admitting to the shooting.”
“What do you mean?”
“They’re all saying the shooting came from inside the hospital room, but that’s impossible. The only person with a gun inside the ICU was old man Gus.”
I bite my lip as a few possibilities bounce around in my head. “What if he shot himself?”
“He’s right-handed, Autumn. How could he shoot himself in the right shoulder?”
“What if he’s ambidextrous?”
Travis runs a hand over his five o’clock shadow. “It’s possible, but it still doesn’t make any sense. Why shoot himself?”
“Maybe he felt like he didn’t have any other options. He knew he’d go to jail for this. Probably figured death was a better option.”
“But why the right shoulder. If he wanted to kill himself why not shoot at the heart or the head?”
“He was drunk maybe he didn’t realize which hand he was using or where he was shooting.”
Travis frowns as we stop at his SUV. He clicks the lock and opens the door for me. “I guess. Something still doesn’t feel right. I’m going to take you home and come back.”
“I can stay,” I say as I try to stifle a yawn. I glance at my watch. It’s going on nine o’clock. Not too late, but it’s been a long day.
Travis chuckles. “Let’s get you to bed, ‘Sleeping Beauty’.”
I blush at the name. She’s always been my favorite princess. “I’m fine, just a little tired,” I say as another yawn escapes.
He gestures to the leather passenger seat. I slide in and rest my head on the head rest, closing my eyes briefly. The next thing I know Travis is shaking me gently and telling me we’re home.
Home? Travis and I don’t have a home.
Then I glance out the window and realize he meant my home. I shoot him a sleepy smile and thank him for the ride before unlocking my front door and flopping into bed with my scrubs on. I know I should take a shower, but I’m too tired. The next thing I know the sun is streaming through my bedroom window and someone is pounding on my front door.
8
I blink and groan then glance at the clock on the nightstand. Six-thirty. It’s Saturday. Why is someone knocking on my door this early? The spa doesn’t open until ten so I know I’m not late. More knocking ensues along with a familiar voice calling my name.
“Coming,” I shout and make my way to the front door. I open it to find Josh with dark circles under his eyes, his dark hair sticking up in all directions, looking slightly pale and in the same outfit as last night, which for some reason makes my heart speed up.
Could he have thrown the hot stone through the hardware window? He fits the description of the person who did. I shake my head and push the thought away. This is Josh. He scoops up spiders and carries them outside and helps old ladies cross the street. There’s no way he would throw a brick through Harold’s store window. He and Harold are friends. Someone is definitely trying to throw me off their trail, but who?
“Autumn, you’re home.” He pushes past me and into my living room.
“Why wouldn’t I be home?” I close the door and shuffle into the kitchen to make myself a cup of chamomile tea. Although I don’t really need to relax, I do like the flavor.
“Everyone’s been trying to call you…all night. My phone’s been ringing non-stop.” He rakes a hand through his hair then lowers his voice, “I heard about what happened at the hospital.”
I fill the tea pot and set it on the stove then turn to face Josh. “Have you heard anything about how old man Gus is doing?”
“He lost a lot of blood. The doctors are being pretty tight-lipped about his condition so I’d say it’s not good.”
I nod and send up a little prayer he makes it. “Did the police ever find out who shot him?”
Josh cocks his head to the side and studies me for a moment. “The Daysville grapevine is saying he shot himself.”
“Hmm.” I turn back to the stove and switch on the burner. I’m not convinced he shot himself, but I’ll keep it to myself for now. “What are you doing over here so early?” I grab a chamomile tea bag from the container on the counter and plop it in my yellow mug with the words ‘Massage 4 Life’ on it.
“Well, like I said when I came in, everyone’s been trying to get a hold of you. It’s like you went radio silent. I even called Travis to make sure you were alright after my twentieth phone call. Your voicemail is full.” He glances around the kitchen. “Where’s your phone?”
The tea pot begins to whistle as I think of the last place I saw my phone. I slap my hand to my forehead and groan.
“What? Did you lose it?”
I shake my head. “It’s at the spa. In the office. Maggie was following me around when I closed up and I guess I just left it there. I would have realized it sooner if it wasn’t for the break in at Harold’s and then the incident at the hospital.” I groan again thinking of all the missed calls I’ll need to return. This day isn’t starting out very well.
Josh takes me by the shoulders and pushes me toward the master bedroom. “Grab a quick shower. I’ll run to the spa, grab your phone, and have your tea ready for you when you get out.”
My stomach growls. I remember I didn’t have any dinner last night and barely had lunch.
Josh smirks at me. “We’re heading to SJ’s bakery for breakfast.”
“We are? Are you crazy? Scott will kill you,” I shriek and spin around.
Josh huffs and shrugs his shoulders. “Scott and I go way back. We were on the chess team together in high school.”
“You’re being accused of murdering his sister. I don’t think being teammates in high school gives you a free pass on that.”
“No one in town thinks I murdered Jamie, but we do need to talk to Scott.”
“Why?”
“The word around town is Scott and Jamie were seen fighting yesterday morning.”
“Fighting. About what?”
“Scott wants to expand the bakery, but Jamie wasn’t interested. They were partners and each of them owned fifty percent…maybe Scott decided to take Jamie out of the equation so he could move forward with his expansion.”
I raise an eyebrow and cross my arms over my chest. “What happened to ‘promise me, Autumn, no more investigating’?” I deadpan and smirk at him.
Josh rolls his eyes. “So, you want to pretend you weren’t sneaking into the hospital during a hostage situation or questioning old man Gus in the waiting room.”
I gasp. “Who me? Why, I would never.” I place a hand over my heart like he’s wounded me.
Josh groans. “Just hurry up and get dressed. I bet Scott has those gluten-free vegan cinnamon rolls you like so much although I have no clue why. They taste like cardboard topped with cinnamon.”
My stomach growls and my mouth begins to water just thinking about them. Josh is so wrong. They are light and fluffy and have the perfect combination of cinnamon and nutmeg. Scott recently started offering more gluten free and vegan items for which I’m very grateful. They don’t help my waistline, but my taste buds love them.
As I make my way to the bathroom with thoughts of cinnamon rolls on the brain, I can’t help but pray Scott didn’t kill his sister. It would mean no more cinnamon rolls and then I don’t know what I would do. I guess I could learn to bake. I shudder thinking of the last time I attempted to bak
e Josh a birthday cake. It was a simple yellow cake…simple my behind. I almost burned down my kitchen and the yellow cake could have passed for chocolate or charcoal. Let’s just say I have no baking skills. Now, stir fry’s and salads I can manage, but keep me away from the oven. We are so not friends.
I hurry through a shower. Slap on some light make-up, braid my copper colored hair to one side and throw on some black scrubs. Josh is standing by the front door holding my tea mug, phone, and shoes as I make my way over to him.
“Ready?” He hands me my phone as he holds open the door while I take a sip of my tea and slip into my shoes. I don’t even bother looking at my phone. I know it has to be filled with texts and voicemails and it’s too early to deal with any of that, not to mention, everyone’s probably still asleep.
A siren down the street draws my attention and Josh and I exchange a look. I grab my light windbreaker before stepping outside. The sun is peeking through the clouds, promising a pretty day and Ted the weatherman is forecasting highs in the seventies, but it’s still a bit chilly this morning.
Josh locks my front door and clicks the lock on my Jeep. We hop in and head toward the siren. Lights are flashing in front of SJ’s bakery. The front window is broken, similar to Harold’s. Scott’s standing in front of the damage in his white chef jacket and black pants. His white apron with the bakery’s name embroidered on the front is clinging to his thin frame. Scott definitely doesn’t look like he enjoys any of his creations. He’s rail thin with blond hair and blue eyes. His wire rimmed glasses are slipping down his slender nose as he gestures wildly at the broken glass.
Travis is typing fiercely on his iPad. His red hair looks damp like he just got out of the shower although he must have gotten interrupted because he obviously didn’t have time to shave. His white shirt is actually pressed along with his pin striped blue pants. Regina must be helping out more since Travis is now a full-time single dad. A churning in my gut and a flash back of April on my massage table sends a shiver down my spine.
“Are you ok? You’re as white as Scott’s apron.” Josh places a hand on my forearm.
I nod and push open my door. I’ve talked enough about what happened a few months ago. I just want to move on, but so far, the memories won’t let me.
Travis spots me first, nods then, goes back to his notes.
Scott lights up when he sees me and engulfs me in a hug. “Finally, someone who can actually get to the bottom of what is going on in this town.”
Travis scoffs, but doesn’t say anything.
Scott lets go of me and gestures to the shattered glass. “Same as Harold’s place. Hot stone through the window. I was in the back grabbing out a fresh batch of your favorite cinnamon rolls and heard a crash. When I came out front, I saw someone in a gray jacket and jeans running from the store.” He eyes Josh and frowns.
Josh glances down at his outfit, finally realizing he’s still wearing the same thing as the suspect. “I was at Autumn’s.”
“When?” Travis pipes up, sounding more threatened than suspicious.
“He knocked on my front door around six thirty,” I offer. I leave out the part where he went to the spa to grab my phone. Travis doesn’t need any more ammunition against Josh.
Travis seems to relax slightly then asks, “Why were you at Autumn’s so early?” He glances at his watch. “What time did you say the rock came through the window?”
“Around six thirty or so.” Scott stiffens and crosses his arms.
“Are you sure Josh was with you at six thirty, Autumn? Could it have been a little after that? You don’t live far from the bakery. He could have thrown the rock and headed to your house for an alibi.”
Josh glares at Travis and clenches his fists. “I didn’t do this. I have no reason to.”
I nod in agreement. “Yeah, why would Josh throw a hot stone through Scott’s window or Harold’s? It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Neither does killing my sister, but for some reason you’re the prime suspect,” Scott snarls.
Josh turns red and runs a hand through his hair. “I didn’t kill Jamie, Scott. You have to believe me. I’m being set up.”
Scott snorts. “A likely story. Why would someone set you up?”
Josh shrugs. “No clue, but Autumn will figure it out.”
Travis scowls. “You do realize I’m a trained detective. If anyone will figure out who killed Jamie, poisoned Violet, and is destroying properties around town, it will be me and my officers.”
“Don’t forget finding out who shot old man Gus,” I pipe up, then cringe, when all three men turn and gape at me like I just said I found a sea lion in my bathtub.
“Old man Gus shot himself, Autumn,” Travis says, his tone is soft and reassuring.
I smile and nod, but don’t believe him for a second.
“Really. We tested his hands. He has gunshot residue on them.”
I nod again because I have no proof except my gut feeling that old man Gus was shot, but why I have no clue. I need to widen my search. Talk to more people. I have a full day of clients at the spa, maybe some of them will be eager to talk about the murder. Who am I kidding? It’s Daysville, of course, everyone will be talking about the murder. There’s also all those missed calls to return, so surely, someone will have a lead for me.
“Autumn… Autumn.” Scott snaps his fingers in front of my face.
I shake my head. I hate when my mind wanders and I forget I’m surrounded by people.
“Do you want a cinnamon roll?”
“Please,” I say as I follow him to the door. I don’t miss the glare he shoots Josh, who doesn’t seem to be moving from his spot on the sidewalk. I turn and raise an eyebrow at him. “Are you coming?”
“I think I’m going to go home and get ready for the day. Meet you at the spa?”
I nod and watch as he hurries to the Jeep. He’s acting strange.
“What’s with him?” Travis asks from behind me.
I glare at him. “Probably tired of being accused of crimes he didn’t commit.”
Travis rolls his eyes.
I ignore him and head inside the bakery. The smell of cinnamon and dough greets me and my stomach growls.
Scott chuckles beside me. “Sounds like you need more than one cinnamon roll.”
I blush and hold a hand to my stomach. “I missed dinner so two couldn’t hurt.”
“Why didn’t you eat dinner? To busy sleuthing?”
My face grows hotter and I pretend to study the menu on the wall next to the door even though I know it by heart. To my surprise, there are a few new menu options. “What’s a Sunrise Surprise?”
Scott grins and holds up a finger. He disappears in the back and I hear a juicer come to life. I take a seat at the counter since it’s the only place not covered in glass.
Travis and a few officers are talking on the sidewalk. Two officers are taping off the scene and a couple more are putting some plastic over the hole in the window.
I glance around the tiny bakery. There are only four tables, and each of their white tablecloths are covered with glass. The black and white tile floor also has some glass on it, but not as much as the tables. I notice the color of the walls has changed from light yellow to a light blue and someone painted various bakery items on it.
Scott returns with a glass of juice that’s a pretty array of reddish purple, orange, and yellow. “Here, try it. It’s my newest concoction.”
“What’s in it?”
“Grapefruit, orange, a little beet, pineapple, and banana.”
“It’s almost too pretty to drink.” I take a sip and savor the tangy flavor. “Delicious.”
Scott smiles then snags two cinnamon rolls from underneath the glass counter and places them on a plate in front of me.
“Thanks.” I smile and take a bite. “Mmm. So, good,” I mumble through a mouthful of food.
He grins, grabs a broom, and heads toward the glass.
I polish off the first cinnamon roll befo
re I mention the change in the wall color. “Love the blue walls.” I gesture to them with the second cinnamon roll.
“Thanks,” he mumbles and continues sweeping.
“Did you just paint it?”
He shrugs. “Yesterday.”
“Yesterday?”
He nods. “It was time for a change.”
“I’m surprised Jamie was ok with the change.”
He stops sweeping and gives me a look that says he didn’t ask her. I wonder if he did this after she died, which would be very suspicious. He sighs and bends down to sweep the glass into the dust pan. “I know why you’re here, Autumn.”
I choke on the cinnamon roll and take a sip of juice to get it down. “Wh-what do you mean? I came for cinnamon rolls. You know they’re my favorite.”
Scott rolls his eyes and dumps the glass into the trash can before washing his hands behind the counter. After he shuts off the water and dries his hands, he turns back to me. “I’m sure you’ve heard from the Daysville grapevine that Jamie and I were fighting.” He pauses and I shrug, trying to play it off. He smirks and continues, “I want to expand the bakery into the space next door so we have more than four tables and the counter for customers. Jamie hates…hated change. She wouldn’t even agree to a new paint color. I painted it while she was getting her massage from Josh. I knew she’d be mad, but unless she was going to re-paint it, I knew she’d get over it and eventually like it. I didn’t kill my sister, Autumn. We were twins. Killing her over not wanting to expand the bakery is just silly.”
I nod and can’t help but agree with him. “Why didn’t Jamie want to expand the bakery?”
Scott clenches his jaw as he grabs a rag and wipes down the counter. “We just went online a few months ago. She was worried expanding too quickly would sink us.”
“But you didn’t think so?”
He shakes his head. “We’re doing well. I need more space to bake the volume of orders coming in. Harold’s store is available, but won’t be for long if we don’t jump on it.”
“So, you plan to expand now?”
Scott nods. “I sign the lease next week.”