by Nancy CoCo
“Yes, ma’am,” I said. “Besides, I have to think up a new costume for tomorrow. There’s no way I’m going to wear my zombie Glinda costume now.”
“I’m sure you’ll come up with something clever,” she said and gave me a quick hug and a kiss. “See you tomorrow.”
“When?” I called after her.
“I’ll come by after I speak to Carson. You get your inventory ready. Thursday is going to be a big selling day.”
Now how the heck did she know that?
Honey Yogurt Mousse with Lemon Curd
Makes 4 to 6 servings
Lemon curd:
½ cup fresh lemon juice (3-4 lemons)
2–3 teaspoons lemon zest
1 14-ounce can sweetened condensed milk
4 egg yolks
Take a large heavy saucepan and pour in the sweetened condensed milk and the lemon juice. Heat gently, stirring until it’s simmering. Simmer 1 minute. Whisk the egg yolks together in a medium bowl. Temper the eggs using the hot liquid by adding a little bit of the hot milk at a time and mixing into the eggs, then a little more until the egg mixture is nearly up to temperature. Pour into the milk mixture and simmer 1 more minute, stirring constantly. Remove from heat and add zest. Let cool to room temperature.
Mousse:
1 teaspoon powdered gelatin
2 tablespoons water
1 cup plain strained Greek yogurt
⅓ cup honey
1 cup heavy whipping cream.
In a small bowl, pour the gelatin into the water. In a medium bowl, whisk together yogurt and honey. In a cold bowl pour in cream and whip to stiff peaks.
Heat the gelatin in a microwave for 12 seconds. Quickly pour the gelatin over the yogurt and whisk thoroughly. Fold in the whipped cream until thoroughly blended.
Layer ⅓ cup mousse with 3–4 tablespoons lemon curd in glasses and repeat layers until the glasses are full. Garnish with a curl of lemon peel and enjoy!
Chapter 16
My last-minute costume included a wig change and different makeup with the same puffy pink dress. I was now Sparkle Barbie zombie. It didn’t stick with my Wizard of Oz theme but that was okay as far as I was concerned.
Everett seemed to approve. I poured him his favorite salmon-flavored breakfast and then glanced out the back window. It was going to be a cold and rainy day, which meant my aunt’s prediction of a high-traffic Thursday was out the window.
That was a good thing, as I had been up late adding to my inventory. But still, I ran out of supplies before I even had enough to fully restock the shelves, let alone create backup for a sell-out day.
I went downstairs and turned on the light. The back door opened as Porsche let herself into the shop. I set up the cash register.
“Hello,” Porsche said. “What’s new today?”
“I’m no longer Glinda the Good Witch,” I said and did a twirl. “I’m now Sparkle Barbie.”
“Impressive. Why are you done with the Oz theme?”
“Frankie is in town and yesterday she wore Glinda the Good Witch.”
“What is she doing in town?” Porsche asked.
I took note of her 1970s Cher costume with zombie makeup. “You look fabulous, by the way.”
“Thanks,” she said and flipped her hair.
“I have no idea why Frankie is in town. You have your ear to the local news. Can you find out for me? I assume she is visiting her mother, but why bring a costume? She doesn’t usually want anything to do with Halloween.”
“I’m on it,” Porsche said and picked up her phone.
“Who are you going to call?”
She raised a finger as if to silence me, then answered the phone. “Hi, Rachel, yes, it has been a while. I’m so glad you took my phone call. I was thinking about you today. What’s up?” She stepped to the far corner and paced as the conversation seemed to go on forever. I glanced at the time and realized it was time to open.
The rain was coming down in a steady stream. I figured it would keep all but the most diehard of shoppers from the store. I petted Everett and then resigned myself to straightening shelves.
“Well, that was interesting,” Porsche said as she walked toward me.
“What’s going on?”
“My friend Rachel Adams has some gossip about why Frankie is in town.”
“Why?” I asked. “Or do I not want to know?”
“She is separated from her husband.”
“Oh, dear, that’s not good.”
“She is in town to scope out the Main Street businesses. She’s thinking about opening a gift shop.”
“Where?”
“Well, you know how Mr. Gordon’s been trying to lease the place next door?”
“Oh, no, no, no,” I said and squeezed Everett so hard he squeaked and then leapt onto the counter to get away from me. “I can’t have hateful Frankie working beside me. Knowing her, she’ll deliberately dissuade shoppers from coming here. Don’t we have enough gift shops in town?”
“It sounds pretty serious,” Porsche said. “She’s meeting with Rachel’s boss, Amanda Schelling, this morning to sign the lease papers.”
“Is Amanda the leasing officer? Because I’ll go above her to the Hendersons.”
“And do what? You can’t afford to rent both spaces. You know that. We looked at it when it first went on the market.”
“I can’t have Frankie next door. It’ll ruin me.”
“Aren’t you being a little dramatic?” She put her hands on her hips.
I bit my bottom lip. “Maybe. But you don’t understand, Frankie mean-girled me my junior and senior years of high school. She made a big deal about how she was going to Berkley and I was going to Oregon—loser Oregon.”
“You’re not in high school anymore. It’s been seven years.”
“Tell Frankie that. She couldn’t stop glaring at me at the coffee shop yesterday.”
“Okay, well, we’ll kill her with kindness, how’s that?”
“It’s not a bad idea.” I said. “If we are nothing but kind to her, then she’s the one who looks bad.”
“Exactly,” Porsche said. “Now, what about the investigation? What did you and your aunt learn yesterday when you went to get coffee with Betty?”
“We don’t think Betty did it,” I said.
“Oh, that’s disappointing. If she didn’t, then who did?”
“I am not any closer to finding out. We’re looking into the names in Agnes’s list of blackmail. Aunt Eloise saw the name of a friend. She’s going to ask him today why he was paying Agnes. It’s the only way to confirm that Agnes was blackmailing people. Once we confirm that, we’ve got a whole list of people with more motive than I have.”
“Well, I certainly hope so,” Porsche said. “I can’t afford to lose my job. The boys are starting music lessons.”
“Well, then I have to do my best to keep us both in business.” I winked at her and she chuckled. “But on a serious note, I’ve put in an emergency order for supplies and paid extra to rush the shipment. We can’t have bare shelves. Not during Halloweentown week.”
“I agree. When the supplies come in, do you want me to tell Jason that I need to work extra hours? That way I can cover so you can make your stuff and still sleep at night.”
“That would be fantastic,” I said and clapped my hands. “They are supposed to come tomorrow before noon.”
“I’ll let him know tonight.”
The doorbells cackled and our first guests came in. The kids came straight to me for candy. Porsche helped the mom find the perfect lotion for her chapped hands. The rest of the day went the same way. Aunt Eloise arrived in the afternoon after things had slowed down. I left Porsche to rearranging stock so it didn’t look so bare and went for coffee with my aunt.
“How are you doing?” I asked her.
“I’ve decided to enter the pie making contest at the fairgrounds in two weeks. With Agnes gone, I might actually stand a chance of winning the grand prize.”
> “What kind will you make?”
“My famous apple raisin,” she said and rubbed her hands together with glee. “This will show me whether or not I’m a true champion.”
“You will always be a champion to me,” I said. “So why did you come by?”
She put her arm through mine and walked in step with me. “Because I thought you would like to meet Carson. He is two years older than me and such a dear.”
“Did he tell you anything about Agnes?”
“Not yet,” she said. “I thought I’d wait until I had a witness.”
“Me?”
“Yes,” she said. “That way it can’t be a he-said, she-said situation.”
“Hmmm, good idea.” We walked into the corner bakery and Aunt Eloise grabbed a table while I bought three coffees and a plate of petits fours. I brought the coffee to the table as a man walked up. He looked a bit like a lumberjack or a miner with long gray hair and a bushy beard. But he was wearing jeans and a T-shirt.
“Hello, ladies,” the man said.
“Carson, do come sit,” Aunt Eloise said. “Wren bought us coffees.”
“And petits fours,” I said. “Let me go back and get them. Also, I didn’t know what you like in your coffee so the side bar is right over there. Help yourself.”
“I like mine black, thanks,” he said and took a seat.
I went back to the counter and snagged the plate of finger cakes. As I approached the table, they were both laughing. “What’s so funny?”
“Oh, nothing, dear,” Aunt Eloise said.
“It’s an inside joke,” Carson said and pointed toward one of the two spare chairs. “Sit, young lady. I’d love to hear more about you.”
“More?”
“Your aunt has filled me in over the last couple of years. She’s pretty darn proud of you, you know. Setting up shop and being carbon neutral.”
“It’s my thing,” I said. “Caring for the environment.”
“How did you come up with a bee shop?”
“Well, a few years ago I learned about how the honeybees were struggling and I did some research. We need bees to pollinate everything. I mean, other insects and hummingbirds do some of that, but most pollination is done by bees. We can’t afford to lose them.”
“So, you’re selling bee by-products?”
“I wanted to help build awareness as to how beneficial bees are and why we should go organic with our food sources.”
“I thought it was a virus killing the bees.”
“There is some thought that industrial agriculture is one cause. Then, there are parasites and climate change. Every little bit of awareness helps.”
“So you’ve been in business for a year and a half. How’s it going?”
“Pretty well,” I said. “I’m not bankrupt yet. What do you do for a living?”
“Oh, I’m a retired bookie.”
“What?”
“Just kidding, although I do love to gamble. No, I was a lumberjack most of my life. As were my father and my grandfather before me. Lumber is big business here.”
“Don’t get her started,” Aunt Eloise said. “She hates the deforestation.”
He leaned toward me. “But you’re drinking from a paper cup and I bet you use toilet paper and register paper and most likely paper towels.”
“There, you’re wrong,” I countered with a wag of my finger. “I don’t use paper towels. I use cloths and wash them.”
“Then, you are using energy and putting soap into the environment.”
“Well, I always run a full load and use natural soaps with no dyes or chemicals.”
He laughed and sat back. “I can see you’re passionate about it. Just be aware that a good many of your customers have parents and grandparents and great-grandparents who worked in lumber mills and paper mills.”
“And I’m grateful for them,” I said. I sipped my coffee, then made a face. “I need creamer.”
I got up and went to the side bar and poured half-and-half into my coffee. The idea of the lumber industry had rankled me since I was a teen and saw the large swaths of deforested mountainside. But my aunt was quick to point out that they planted trees and refilled the spaces. Lumber was now harvested with care. I didn’t think it made things better, but it was an Oregon way of life and Carson was right: most of my local customers had family members who worked in the industry. Who was I to say they were wrong?
They were laughing again when I sat down. “You seem to be having more fun when I’m not here,” I pointed out.
“Oh, dear,” Aunt Eloise said and wiped tears from her eyes. “We have been so wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean about Agnes and the payments. She wasn’t blackmailing people—at least not Carson.”
I drew my eyebrows together in confusion. “Then why did you give her that money? The money she recorded in her book? The money that was in her secret bank account?”
“Because I ordered a handmade tapestry for my niece,” he explained. “She’s into all things medieval, and I knew that Agnes was a winner at handicrafts. So I went to see her and she asked me what I wanted as the tapestry scene.”
“And that’s what was so funny,” Aunt Eloise chuckled.
“Yes, you see, I ordered a mermaid.”
“Wait, are mermaids medieval?” I asked.
“Turns out they aren’t,” he said. “My niece thanked me for the gift and asked me who made it. Then, she took the tapestry back to Agnes. They both laughed at me and then Agnes recreated it to be more realistic.”
“That was nice of Agnes.” I sipped my coffee.
“It cost me an extra two hundred dollars to create a new tapestry,” he said. “Who knew my niece was into unicorns instead?”
“No! For two hundred dollars?” I nearly choked on my coffee.
“He’s teasing about the unicorn,” Aunt Eloise said. “Agnes recreated a lovely scene of a picnic by the stream to match one from his niece’s favorite books. Tapestries are a lot of hours of work. You ask me, he got a real steal.”
“Oh, whew,” I said. “Why did you think a mermaid was appropriate?”
“When my niece was little, she loved mermaids. Then, last year, I went to the renaissance fair and saw there were people there playing fairies.”
“So you assumed that if there were fairies, there must have been mermaids in the era as well?” I grabbed a petit four and bit into it. It was chocolate cake with raspberry filling. It wasn’t bad, but I did have to wonder if it wouldn’t have been better with honey.
“The joke was on me, I suppose.” He sipped his coffee.
“Did all the people in Agnes’s ledger order handicrafts from her? What about Mr. Woolright? Why was he paying in cash?”
“We don’t know,” Aunt Eloise said. “But I think it’s safe for us to meet with him and find out.”
“I suppose you’re right,” I said. “Besides, whoever killed Bernie most likely wasn’t connected to Agnes’s handicraft business.”
“Most likely not, “Aunt Eloise said. “So much for listening to town gossip.”
“I don’t know if the gossip is all that far off,” Carson said. “Agnes did know a lot of people’s secrets. Maybe just knowing was enough to get her killed.”
“And Bernie?” I asked.
“The killer might have taken him out to cover his or her tracks.”
“Let’s hope no one else will suffer the same fate,” I said and sipped my coffee. Another dead end in my investigation. Maybe I wasn’t as good at investigating as I’d hoped.
Chapter 17
I returned to a busy shop. Normally I loved to see the foot traffic so high, but with the stock so low, I was afraid I’d sell out and have to close my doors.
“What is everyone doing in here?” I whispered to Porsche when we caught a momentary lull in people at the register.
“There’s a Grateful Dread concert tonight,” Porsche said. “People are flocking in from all over to be a part o
f the scene.”
“You mean, Grateful Dead? Are they still a band?”
“No, silly, this is a cover band that is always super popular during the Halloween season.”
“Is that why everyone is wearing skeleton costumes and dreadlocks?” I asked as I looked around.
“Yes and I hear the café has stocked up on Cherry Garcia ice cream.”
“I guess it’s good that people are buying,” I said.
“They are coming in because they heard about the murders and wanted to see what you were like for themselves.”
“As a store owner?” I asked.
“As a murder suspect,” she said and winked. “I might have played it up a little.”
“Excuse me, are these the lip balms with poison in them?” one particularly chubby skeleton asked.
“There isn’t any poison in my products,” I said.
“But the police said there was . . . in that murder, right?”
“Yes, that is what the police said.” I sighed. “But there isn’t any in my products.”
“Too bad,” she said. “I was going to buy a case and hand them out to mean people. I mean, what better revenge when you run into road rage, than to gift them with a poisonous lip balm?” She laughed. “Just kidding,” she said when I gave her the side eye. “It’s gallows humor for Halloween. I’ll take two of the hand creams.”
“They are buy two get one free,” I said. “So pick another.”
“Oh, I’ll take almond honey.” She grinned at me. “They say that arsenic smells like almonds.”
I refused to give her silliness any more credence and rang her up. She paid and I was soon on to the next. With Halloweentown week being one of the most important weeks in the year, we had advertised that the store would be open until nine. I was glad it was so busy. Finally, at 8 p.m. the crowd quieted down.
“See?” Porsche said as she tried to make what little stock I had left look like it filled the shelves. “I told you it was the concert. It starts at nine. Most everyone is either standing in line or already in their seats. It should be a quiet last hour. What did you learn at your coffee meeting?”