New Year’s Eve morning, I slept late and was shocked to find I was the first one up. It had been a tough week for everyone—except Hannah, who’d been out late with Zack every night. She stumbled into the kitchen rubbing her eyes.
“Coffee?”
“No one else is up. I thought I’d walk Daisy down to the bakery to pick up some breakfast breads.”
“Next year I’m staying at Natasha’s house. I bet
her
guests wake up to bedside coffee and croissants.”
“You can stay at her house anytime you like.”
Hannah stretched. “Oh please. Even
I
make coffee for company.”
“Come with me, and I’ll buy you one.” I didn’t tell her that I’d set the coffee machine to start brewing in half an hour.
Inga Bauer would have been mortified to see her grown daughters schlepping along the street to the bakery wearing a colorful mismatched assortment of shapeless fleece pants and jackets, mufflers, gloves, and hats. The only thing that would have pleased her was that we were barely recognizable.
Daisy pranced ahead of us while Hannah and I discussed Natasha’s close call.
“The more I think about it,” said Hannah, “the more I think Ginger is trying to murder Natasha. She must believe that killing Natasha will magically open up a domestic diva slot in the cosmos that Ginger can step into.”
“Don’t you suppose there was more to it than that? You know Natasha can be imperious. Maybe she put down Dickensian decor. It’s clearly Ginger’s thing.”
Hannah tugged at her muffler. “Do you think Natasha has some kind of dirt on her that Ginger doesn’t want made public? If the cops thought I had tried to murder someone, I don’t think I’d trot right back out and try again unless I needed to shut that person up.”
Hannah had a valid point. Had Ginger been desperate enough to make another attempt on Natasha’s life when the cops were already on to her?
We reached the bakery and I handed Daisy’s leash to Hannah. “I won’t be long.”
A warm vent blew inside the door of the bakery, taking off the chill. I felt guilty about leaving Hannah and Daisy out in the cold, but gladly unwrapped my muffler and started to pull my hat off until a familiar voice caught my attention.
Not four feet away, standing with his back to me, Forrest Chadwick peered into the bakery case. It wasn’t exactly the crack of dawn, but certainly early enough for me to wonder why he was in Old Town. Why wasn’t he at work?
I pulled my hat down, whirled around, and wrapped the muffler up over my nose. I dashed outside and tugged Hannah and Daisy across the street, where I hoped we could observe him without being noticed.
“Forrest is there!” The story of seeing him in Old Town in front of that empty building spilled out of me. “I bet he’s buying breakfast for Marnie.”
Hannah peered at me over the fuzzy edge of her muffler. “Being in a bakery doesn’t mean anything, Sophie. Besides, Marnie is probably still at your house, fast asleep.”
“There he is!” We watched as he passed us on the other side of the street. “He has three giant coffees and a huge box of baked goods.”
Hannah crept forward. “What are you waiting for? Let’s follow him.”
TWENTY-NINE
From
“Ask Natasha”
:
Dear Natasha,
Every day I waste time hunting for keys. We have three teenage drivers in the house, which mean keys can be in purses, pockets, and under the bed. How do I prevent key-mania?
—Dizzy in Dasher, Georgia
Dear Dizzy,
Keys should be left close to the entry and exit point. Make your own key holder to match your decor. It’s so simple! Paint a board that can be mounted on the wall. Stencil names on it, or a morning glory vine, or ivy! Screw cup hooks onto the board and you’re done! The next one who does not return the keys to the assigned spot loses driving privileges for three days. That should solve your problem!
—Natasha
Exactly as I’d expected, Forrest hurried back to the empty building. He extracted a key from his pocket, let himself in, and disappeared inside.
Hannah and I stared through the plate glass window, but the main floor remained dark and quiet.
“I know how to get to the bottom of this.” Hannah squinted at the rental sign in the front window, pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, and pushed a few buttons. She exaggerated her Southern accent. “Mary Smith here, darlin’. I am standin’ outside your adorable buildin’ on St. Asaph Street ...”
I cringed. Especially when she said, “What? Well, isn’t that a cryin’ shame? The whole buildin’? Upstairs, too?”
She hung up, clearly proud of herself.
“You know that Realtor must have caller ID.”
“It’s my cell. For some odd reason it always shows Virginia on caller ID. Besides, I got the scoop. The building has been rented by a Mr. Forrest Chadwick, who intends to open a bakery! What’s more, he took the upper floors, too, because he plans to live upstairs with his son.”
I sagged against the window. Did Ginger know? I couldn’t imagine her being willing to live above a bakery. She’d mentioned wanting to move to Old Town, but she’d talked about a house near Natasha’s. “I guess Forrest was checking out the competition at the other bakery. Why wouldn’t he have told me when I saw him here the other day? Why act so secretive? And why three coffees?”
“Could we speculate about this back at the house by the fire?” Hannah handed me the leash. “This time
I’m
going into the bakery to warm up.”
Once Hannah had purchased breakfast pastries, we hurried home. I confess I was relieved to know that Forrest wasn’t involved in anything devious.
We walked into my kitchen to a chorus of complaints from George, Laci, and Shawna. I opened the boxes and arranged pastries on a large white serving platter before taking off my coat. George and Shawna dug in immediately, glad to have a morning nosh with their coffees.
Laci worked at the stove. “Just scrambling eggs. Nothing fancy.”
I slid off my coat. “Where’s Marnie?”
George did not sound happy when he reported, “She left. Said she had an appointment.”
Hannah sidled over to me and whispered, “Maybe you were right about Marnie and Forrest. But there were three cups of coffee. Who’s the third person? Surely they wouldn’t include Edward yet?”
George eyed us with the wariness born of being the only brother of two sisters. “What are you whispering about?”
I glanced at Laci, not sure how she might take my theory about her mother. “We saw Forrest buying three coffees and a host of pastries. Hannah made a call and discovered that he has rented a restaurant in Old Town to open a bakery, and he plans to live upstairs.”
“Whoa!” George swallowed a piece of chocolate croissant. “They’ll be selling their house then!”
I shot him a don’t-be-dense look. “Can you really see Ginger living in a walk-up over a bakery?”
Laci spooned eggs onto a plate for George. “I can’t say I’m surprised. Forrest has been miserable in his job for years. I guess he finally reached a point where he decided to make a change. Good for him!”
“Ugh, I hope Ginger doesn’t keep the house. She’s the scourge of the neighborhood. Having her next door without Forrest there to calm her would be a nightmare.” George tasted his eggs.
“For his sake, I hope they’re separating. Forrest has put up with Ginger far too long,” said Laci.
George stopped eating and focused on Hannah. “Hold it, Lace. There’s more to this. Hannah and Sophie wouldn’t bother whispering if there weren’t.”
“We think he’s having an affair with Marnie,” Hannah blurted out.
The serving spoon in Laci’s hand clattered to the floor. “You can’t be serious!”
George laughed so hard he choked and had to drink juice to get his voice back. “Marnie is too old for Forrest. He’s not
that
desperate! Who would trade a wicked witch like Ginger for a nut like Marnie?”
Laci glared at him until George muttered, “Oh, come on, Laci. Even you have to agree that Marnie is a little bit—unusual.”
“My mother is still very attractive and a sweet and loving person.”
Hannah frowned at me. “She is a little bit old for Forrest.”
I guessed about ten years difference. It wasn’t inconceivable. “Then where was she last night when you brought Shawna to my place?”
Laci plunked the egg pan on the stove. “What are you getting at?”
“I’m just wondering where she was all afternoon yesterday and where she is now?”
Shawna had been very quiet, but she finally murmured, “Yeah. Why wasn’t Mom here waiting for me?”
Laci plopped into a chair and pulled her sweater tight as though she’d grown cold. “I hope you’re not suggesting she had anything to do with strangling Natasha.”
The thought
had
crossed my mind. “She did show a tendency to undress Santa Claus and wear his clothes, and I’m fairly certain the killer wore Mrs. Claus’s skirt yesterday.” Oops. I probably shouldn’t have said “killer.”
“You think Mom is the murderer?” Laci rose and paced the kitchen. “How dare you? She was never around that music box. No way.”
“Except maybe when we left Bonnie’s party, and Marnie went shopping on her own and then got drunk. She could have returned to the restaurant and tampered with the gift.”
“I thought you liked me,” whined Laci. “Why are you doing this?”
I stroked her shoulder, but she brushed my hand away. “Someone attacked Natasha, and it was most likely the same person who killed Bonnie. If we knew where Marnie was, we could eliminate her as a suspect.”
Laci leaned against the counter, her hands on her hips.
George groaned. “Why don’t you just ask her?”
Laci headed for the phone exactly as someone banged the knocker on the front door.
Daisy followed me to the foyer, and I opened the door to find Tyler on the stoop.
“Uh, hi. I heard Shawna might be here?”
I invited him in, and he followed me to the kitchen. When he saw Shawna, he said, “You look pretty good for a jailbird.”
“Want some breakfast?” she asked.
“Just coffee. Forrest Chadwick brought us cupcakes yesterday, and I had a couple for breakfast. How do you feel?”
“Great!” Shawna poured him a mug of coffee, and I noticed that she didn’t have to ask how he took it. “Is it okay if we drink these in your sunroom, Sophie?” she asked.
“Sure.” I sat down next to Hannah and watched Tyler. From the adoring way he gazed at Shawna, I would have bet he didn’t realize the rest of us were even present.
Laci hung up the phone. “Your mom says my mom picked up Dad. The bad news is that neither she nor your father know where they went.”
I breathed easier. If Phil was with Marnie, she surely wasn’t with Forrest. On the other hand, he had bought three coffees. Were they planning some sort of joint venture into baking?
“I didn’t mean to accuse your mom of being a killer, Laci,” I apologized. “I really thought she was having an affair.”
“I hate this!” Laci poured more coffee for herself and joined us at the table. “No one trusts anyone else. Shawna can’t leave town. We’re suspicious of our own relatives and neighbors. It’s just awful.”
George yawned. “Ginger blew her top at Natasha. That’s a fact. She probably tried to poison her. When that didn’t work, she took the crutch from Tiny Tim in her front yard and drove here to bash Natasha over the head with it. Sophie saw her driving down the block, so we know she was in the neighborhood. Case closed.”
Maybe George was right. Ginger’s husband baked cupcakes yesterday. If they had cream cheese frosting ... I rose and shouted into the sunroom, “Hey, Tyler! Did those cupcakes you ate for breakfast have cream cheese frosting?”
We all heard him yell, “Yes.”
“That would account for the cream cheese on Daisy’s whiskers when she tore away the Mrs. Claus sleeve during the attack on Natasha. Ginger must have gotten some on her sleeve,” I speculated. “She just didn’t anticipate Daisy ripping the fabric and bringing us a clue.”
“It all fits together,” said George. “Except for the cream cheese, Kenner knows all this, so they must be on the verge of arresting Ginger.”
Shawna dashed into the kitchen, Tyler on her heels. “Someone broke into Bonnie’s shop last night. The police just called Tyler!”
“Again?” I asked. What did Bonnie hide there that someone wanted so badly?
Tyler appeared dazed. He flicked a ring of keys in his hand.
Wait a minute
. Hadn’t someone stolen his keys?
I smiled at him. “Car keys?”
“Yeah. Shawna, maybe we should walk over there.”
“Office keys on there, too?” I asked.
He stopped flipping them. “Yeah. All my keys.”
“Hold it!” said George. “Sorry, Shawna, you’re not going anywhere without Laci or me.”
“So come with.” Shawna didn’t seem perturbed by George’s requirement.
I, on the other hand, sat back and wracked my brain. Tyler had come to my house only once before. He picked up Shawna and took her to find Beau the day after Bonnie’s murder. Yet hadn’t he claimed his keys had been stolen the day
before
at Bonnie’s party?
THIRTY
From “THE GOOD LIFE” :
Dear Sophie,
My girlfriend just paid a small fortune to have a fancy closet system installed. I’m as green as my Christmas tree with envy. How can I improve my closets on a shoe-string budget?
—No Golden Rings in Golden Ring, Maryland
Dear No Golden Rings,
There’s one trick that will improve the appearance of any closet. Ditch the wire hangers and buy identical hangers for the whole closet. The uniform appearance makes all the difference. It won’t cost a lot if you avoid designer hangers. Check box stores and discount chains for sturdy plastic hangers sold by the dozen.
—Sophie