Gluten for Punishment (16 page)

CHAPTER
20

O
n our way back to the bakery, I noted the
CAUTION
signs around the gutters and manholes. “Oh, no.”

“What?” Sam asked.

“Grandma Ruth.” I stepped up my pace until I was nearly running. “I told her not to
do this.”

“Do what?” Sam kept up with me stride for stride.

“This.” I waved at the caution markers. “Grandma Ruth . . .” I called her name and
heard some faint reply. “Bill?”

“They’re down in the sewer.” A man dressed in white coveralls stepped out from behind
a city truck.

I knelt down and stuck my head into the open manhole. “Grandma, what are you doing?”

Bill popped into sight. “We’re treasure hunting.” He grinned. I guess I shouldn’t
have been surprised. Treasure to him was a dead animal or an interesting bit of roadkill.

I scowled. “How could you let her down there? It’s slimy. She might fall and break
a hip.”

“I will not fall.” Grandma popped into view. “I have a walker.” She shook the metal
walker at me.

“Oh, Grandma, who’s going to clean that?”

“Don’t worry.” Bill snickered. “It’s a loaner.” Grandma laughed until she coughed.
Bill pounded her on the back. At least they wore coveralls. Thank goodness. I wouldn’t
have to smell sewer in Grandma’s clothes for the next three weeks.

“What are they doing down there?” Sam was on his knees next to me.

“They’re looking for possible murder weapons,” I said as low as possible.

“Who’s that?” Grandma asked.

“Grandma Ruth, I would like to introduce my friend Sam Greenbaum. Sam this is my grandma
Ruth and her friend Bill Aimes.”

“Hello,” Sam said. “Nice to meet you.”

“Well, well,” Grandma said eyeing Sam. “Toni, you did good.” Grandma’s eyes twinkled
as her cap of orange curls jiggled.

“I hope you have an appointment at the salon before you come to tonight’s memorial,”
I said.

“I do.” Grandma looked at her watch and slapped Bill’s stomach with the back of her
hand. “Bill, we need to get going if we want to be ready for dinner by five. Nice
to meet you, Sam. Toni, my watch tells me it’s time for you to open the bakery. Scoot,
kiddo.” She made waving motions with her hands.

I shook my head and watched them both disappear from view. I sat back on my heels
and sighed. Then I looked at the city worker. “How did they get down there? I can’t
imagine Grandma taking those metal ladders.”

“There’s a set of stairs leading from the bank’s basement. We got permission to let
them in there.”

“There’s access to the sewers through the bank’s basement?”

“Yes, of course,” the city worker said. “But only the sewer department has a key.”

Sam took my hand and helped me up. “Thanks.” I brushed the dirt off my knees.

“Why are you concerned about there being a sewer access point under the bank?” Sam
asked as we walked around the corner to the back of the bakery.

“There seems to be a lot of talk about connections between the bank and George’s murder.”
I stuffed my hands in my pockets.

“Like what?”

“George was suing the bank and tying up Ed Bruner’s sale of the foreclosed farm. Also,
there’s the fact George was hit by a blunt-force object that no one has found. Grandma
was looking in the sewer to see if the killer chucked anything like a pipe or hammer
or big rock in there. Now we find out there is access to the sewer from the bank . . .”

“Sounds entirely circumstantial,” Sam said as I unlocked the door and disarmed the
alarm.

“I know.” I pulled off my coat, hung it on one of the coat hooks near the kitchen
door, and headed to the front to unlock the shop. “It’s why I haven’t gone to the
police with my thoughts. I know what it’s like to be accused based on circumstantial
evidence.”

Sam followed behind me as I turned the sign around and unlocked the glass front door.
Then I made a beeline for the coffee carafes. It was time to brew fresh.

“Do you have your computer back yet?” His voice was comforting even if the question
raised my hackles.

“No.” I bit my bottom lip and poured water into the coffee machine. “I need to call
my lawyer about that.”

“What does your lawyer think about you catering George’s memorial service?” Sam leaned
against the counter and watched me make coffee.

“He has no say.” I shrugged and hit the Brew button.

“At least they’ve taken down most of the crime scene tape.” Sam looked out the window.
The only yellow tape left was wound around the horse trough. Someone had placed a
bouquet of flowers by the trough. It looked kind of sad there all by itself.

“Not exactly an outpouring of love, is it?” I stood beside him and studied the sorry
little bunch of carnations.

“I think I saw Sherry Williams put them there.”

“Oh.” I raised my eyebrows in surprise. “Huh, maybe they had a fling or something.”

“Why do you say that? I mean, I can’t imagine two more different people.”

“Sherry’s the one who set up the memorial. She told me it would be good for business.
It would help establish the ghost walk tours she wants to start downtown.”

“Ghost walk tours?” Sam’s eyes were an incredible blue. His generous mouth twitched.

I wanted to breathe him in and hold him in my lungs—more proof that I could not trust
my judgment. My divorce had taught me nothing if I was going to fall for the first
good-looking guy to pay me the slightest attention. I got back to the subject at hand.
“Sherry says they’re all the rage and that George’s murder is the perfect ending point
for walking tours of Oiltop’s downtown where they point out all the local ghost legends.”

Sam crossed his arms. “Really, like what?”

“Like the fact that on dark October nights you can see devil worshipers in the attic
of the old Baptist church.”

“Oh my God, I forgot about that old story.” His grin grew wide and his eyes sparkled.
“Even in Towanda we knew about that. It was something we used to tell our girlfriends
to get them to snuggle close as we cruised by the church. Trust me, it was worth the
car ride here.”

“Then there’s Merry Pratt’s suicide from the second-floor balcony of the old opera
house.”

“Opera house?”

I looked at him like he should know about the opera house.

“My parents might have grown up here, but I didn’t. They moved an hour south of here
before I was born, remember? It’s not like I grew up on Oiltop legends.”

“It’s now the Grey Goose bar and grill. You know, down on the other end of Main Street.”

“Oh, right.”

“And then there’s the town square, where they used to hang murderers and horse thieves
after they had been tried in the county courthouse. Rumor is sometimes you can see
the white ghostly figures wandering the square.”

“And now there’s your bakery.”

I nodded and drew my lips together in a fine line. “Where George Meister was hit in
the head and left to drown in the horse trough.” A chill went through the bakery and
I rubbed my upper arms. “The price of a walking tour ticket includes a cup of coffee
or hot cocoa and a cookie from the bakery at the end.”

“Let me guess, Sherry’s conducting the tours.”

“Yes.” The brewer beeped letting me know the coffee was done. I filled the carafe
and then set up the second kind of coffee and hit Brew. “I negotiated a 10 percent
discount on drinks and cookies as long as she averaged thirty tourists a week. Anything
less than that and she pays full price.”

“Do you think she’ll have that many tourists?”

I shrugged. “The college students might dig it. Then there’s the Prairie Port Festival
and when the county fair is in town. But even with the new lake, it’s not like Oiltop
is a booming tourist town. That’s why I set the limit at thirty a week or she pays
full price. It’s just too iffy.”

Sam grinned. “I love a woman who knows the art of a deal.”

I set the full carafe on the coffee bar and put my hands on my hips. “I forgot to
ask. What exactly do you do for a living, Mr. Greenbaum?” I suppose it was a little
late to ask him, but it was meant as a friendly if nosey question.

He waved toward his boots. “I’m a cowboy by trade. I run a small spread south of here.
But I also do remodeling, carpentry, and subcontracting—a little bit of everything.”

“Wow, sounds like you’re a handy guy to have around.”

“I try to be.” His eyes twinkled and my heart pounded a bit too fast. It was dangerous
how quickly a girl could get used to having a man around.

CHAPTER
21

T
wenty minutes before the memorial was supposed to start, the bakery door jingled.

Meghan gave him a “Hi, how can I help you?” In the two hours she’d been working she’d
only gotten a couple of things wrong. I think I was going to love having her. I hope
she loved it, too, and the murderers and vandals didn’t scare her away.

“I’m here to see Toni.” The sound of Brad’s voice echoed through to the kitchen, where
I was prepping platters and brewing extra coffee.

“Just a sec.” Meghan walked into the kitchen. “There’s a hot guy out there asking
for you. He might be a bit old, but he’s still hot.” Meghan’s eyes sparkled.

“That’s my lawyer,” I informed her. “Tell him to come on back.”

“Will do, Boss.” Meghan left.

I poured coffee into extra carafes as Brad entered the kitchen. He literally took
up all the space. He wore a black overcoat with gold buttons, a
GQ
suit made of a fine dark navy fabric, a pale blue shirt, and a pin-striped maroon
tie. His thick golden hair was brushed back and curled at the neck. His bright gaze
took in the clean but busy kitchen.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” I answered trying to breathe and act normally.

“I heard you were vandalized again last night. Are you all right?”

“Yes, I filed a police report, like you told me to last time. It’s always best to
have a record of everything, right?”

“Right.” He glanced around at the steel-and-marble kitchen. “Nice design.”

“Thanks, I knew what I wanted and the landlord agreed to the remodel. Cooler surfaces
help to keep dough from sticking.”

“Are you going to have a camera installed on the back door?” He leaned casually against
the stainless steel counter. I checked to make sure he wasn’t getting anything on
his coat. Thank goodness I ran a clean kitchen.

“Have you been talking to my brother?”

“No, why?”

“He asked the same thing.” I straightened and wiped my hands on a towel. “I’d love
to, but I don’t have the extra cash for that expense right now.”

“Get your landlord to install it.”

“It was hard enough to get him to install these countertops. He has no incentive to
put in a camera, much less repaint the front bricks and the back door. Those things,
I’m afraid, are up to me.”

“I noticed the fresh paint on the front bricks.”

“I didn’t want the spray paint showing for the memorial.” I put the finishing touches
on the platters and placed the last one on the rolling rack that held them.

“Yes, I can see how that would be bad for business.” His gaze followed my every move.

I was very self-conscious and caught myself brushing my bangs out of my eyes one time
too many. Why did the man have to be hot? And so very much out of my league? Two hot
men in one day were really weakening my resolve.

At least Brad had grown up around my family and would never consider me in his league.
Brad knew the weirdos I came with . . . no, not weirdos, creatives, Grandma Ruth would
call us. It was the main reason I had moved to Chicago. It was a big city and no one
knew my family. There was something freeing in that. Not that it had helped me pick
a better man.

“Why are you here, Brad? Did you come for the memorial?”

“I came to tell you the police are releasing your computer equipment. You can pick
it up anytime at the station.” His smile warmed my fluttering heart.

“Thank you.” I meant it. Relief filled me. I could have my life back. “So I’m no longer
a person of interest?”

He winced. “They have no evidence to link you, but you’re still their number one suspect.”

I sighed. “I didn’t do it.” I swiped the clean counter with a clean dishrag.

“I know you didn’t.” Brad stepped in close, leaning against the counter. I could feel
the heat from his body even though he didn’t actually touch me. It had a strange,
comforting effect, causing me to blink back the tears I didn’t even know I was holding
onto.

“If they still think I did this, then why give me my computer back?”

I looked into his eyes. The corners of his mouth lifted. “I pushed. I told them unless
they had hard evidence, you would sue them for defamation of character and harm to
your business. I imagine I was pretty convincing.”

I think my heart rolled over in my chest. God, he made a good Prince Charming—if only
I still believed. I hid my emotions by staring down at the dishcloth in my hands and
inhaled. There was something wonderful about expensive clothes that smelled of starch,
good cologne, and warm male. “Thank you.”

“You haven’t gotten my bill yet.”

That made me laugh. I looked back up and my heart skipped a beat. There was that moment—that
awkward moment when you thought a man wanted to kiss you.

I stepped back and tried to be professional. It was hard because I think I might have
kissed him. If he weren’t my lawyer. If things were different. I glanced at the clock.
“Bill or no bill, thanks. More than half my business is online. It’s been eating up
a lot of time running to Tasha’s inn to use her computer.”

“Toni.”

“Hmm?” I was double-checking the platters and trying to get my nerves back under control.

“When this is over, I’d like to take you out to dinner.”

That got my attention. My head whipped around fast. It took a second for my eyes to
catch up. “Excuse me?”

He crossed his arms and sent me a sexy half grin. “When this is over, and you no longer
need me to be your lawyer, I’d like to take you to dinner.”

“Oh.” It’s all I could get out of my mouth. I opened and closed it several times like
a fish out of water. What a sight that must have been.

His grin grew larger. “Yes, I’m single. I know you’re single. And I’m interested,
Toni. Are you interested?”

In dating the high school hottie who only got better with age? Duh. I kept blinking
like a sleepy-eyed doll. While a tiny voice in my head said no, no dating, an even
louder buzzing drowned it out.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said with the confidence of a male who knows where he
stands.

“Um, Boss?” Meghan popped her head into the kitchen. “Ms. Williams from the chamber
of commerce said to tell you everyone’s here and you need to get out there so they
can begin the memorial.”

“Gotta go.” I did something ridiculous, like pat Brad on his beefy arm, then grabbed
my coat and headed outside.

“Everyone needs a candle.” Sherry handed me a small white candle with a paper drip
catch. She gave one to Meghan, too.

I saw Tasha and Craig and stood beside them, far from Brad. “I’m glad you’re here.
I hope you didn’t push things on my account.”

“I didn’t. Besides, I felt I should be here to support you during this weird thing,”
Tasha whispered.

“Thanks.”

“Here, light your candle on mine.” She touched her flame to my wick. The candle burst
into light, and I noticed Grandma Ruth and Bill on the other side of the crowd.

If you could call it a crowd; there were maybe ten or fifteen people in attendance
including me, Meghan, Tasha, Craig, Grandma Ruth, and Bill. Then there was Sherry
and her friends from the chamber of commerce.

“There’ll be plenty of food,” I muttered.

“How many people did Sherry tell you to plan for?” Tasha whispered.

Sherry had started the memorial by introducing Reverend Jones from the Baptist church
George had attended.

“I made enough for fifty.” I leaned toward Tasha and kept my voice low.

“The chamber will be eating petit fours and cookies for a week.” Tasha giggled and
the reverend glared at us.

I bit my lower lip to keep from laughing and started checking out exactly who else
was in attendance. If Tasha was right, the killer would be here.

There was Rocky Rhode in the back, flashing pictures. The shots were for the newspaper,
I supposed. Great, yet another front-page photo of my bakery. Beside him was Candy
with her reporter’s notebook in hand, and Mike Smith. I guess Mike was here to thank
George for the bump in newspaper sales. Then there was Ralph, Craig’s brother, standing
in the back with his hands in his pockets, looking cold and uncomfortable. He must
have either arrived late or refused the candle. Personally I was glad for the candle,
as the soft flame warmed my hands.

“Please bow your heads for a moment of silence,” the reverend intoned.

I bowed but kept my gaze on the crowd. There was Ed Bruner from the bank standing
near Bill and Grandma Ruth. Todd Woles from the men’s shop stood near another very
well-dressed man. If I were to hazard a guess, I’d label the other man as Todd’s boyfriend.
Their shoulders touched and their eyes glistened. Were they tears of sadness or relief?
Why go to a memorial for a man you had a restraining order against?

Then there was Brad; Amy, his secretary; Chief Blaylock, and Officer Emry. If I counted
the chamber members, there were maybe twenty or more in attendance.

“Thank you. Now, if anyone would like to say any words about George, now would be
a wonderful time to share.” The reverend looked into the crowd and suddenly people’s
gazes were on the ground, across the street, or on the person next to them. “Anyone?
Sherry?”

Sherry smiled her pageant smile and stepped forward. “Of course, Reverend, I would
like to say I didn’t know George very well, but my mother did go to school with his
mother and I couldn’t let this tragedy go by without some kind of memorial to mark
George’s life in our community. George was an outspoken member of our community who
had strong opinions and kept to them.”

I glanced at Grandma Ruth and raised my right eyebrow. She shrugged and grinned at
me.

“Outspokenness should be cherished in a democratic society,” Sherry went on. “But
outspokenness should go hand in hand with an open mind and forgiveness, which is why
we are having this service tonight. Unfortunately, George seemed to have had a few
troubles in his life and, right or wrong, he took them out on others. But all is forgiven,
and we stand here tonight remembering the goodness of George and his family and all
the things they did to help our community. Thank you, George. God bless you, wherever
you are.”

Silence covered the crowd like a thick blanket. Sherry smiled her pageant smile. “Reverend
Jones will say a final prayer, and then Toni Holmes will speak.”

My head whipped around and my mouth fell open. Sherry smiled at me as if I knew exactly
what I was supposed to say.

“Bow your heads and pray for God’s blessings,” Reverend Jones started. Sherry bowed
her head and Tasha elbowed me until I did the same. The reverend droned on about the
shortness of life and how man is dust and to dust we shall return. When he was done,
he said a prayer.

The sound of my heartbeat in my ears drowned out the prayer. What exactly was Sherry
up to? What was I supposed to say? Tasha elbowed me again and handed me a small note
card. I took the card. There, in Sherry’s neat high school printing, was a small statement.
I glanced from the card to Sherry.

“And now, Ms. Holmes,” the reverend said. Tasha took my candle and pushed me toward
the front. Reverend Jones handed me the microphone.

“Hello.” The mic squawked with feedback. I swallowed hard and read from the card.
“Thank you all for coming and honoring a member of our community.” I took a deep breath
and pressed on. “His tragic death will never be forgotten. Please come inside the
bakery for fellowship and shared memories. Coffee and treats are provided courtesy
of the Oiltop Chamber of Commerce.” I waved my hand toward Sherry and Alisa. “Thank
you.”

And it was over. I handed the microphone to Sherry, and saw that Meghan had slipped
inside the bakery to help pass out cups of coffee and hot cocoa and point people toward
the platters.

“I think that went very well,” Sherry said. “Don’t you?”

I flattened my mouth. “Sure, if you say so.”

“Shall we go inside and get warm?”

I stepped into the warmth of my bakery, plastered on my happy sales face, and tried
to ignore the weirdness that was the memorial for a guy who had been killed while
vandalizing my shop. I grabbed a platter and passed it around. “Petit four? They’re
chocolate and raspberry. And, yes, they are entirely gluten-free. Perfect for anyone
with celiac, children with allergies, and the elderly whose systems are sensitive.”

“Toni, smile for the camera,” Rocky said. I paused next to Todd and his friend and
gave my best party smile. The camera clicked and the bulb popped. “Thanks, this will
look good on the front page.”

Rocky moved on as people ate, shared stories, and drank my coffee. And deep inside,
I couldn’t help wondering if there was a killer in our midst.