Gluten for Punishment (28 page)

“Hi, Boss.” She smiled shyly. She wore a vest over a tee shirt, black jeans, and thick-soled
black boots.

“Meghan, hi, thanks for stopping by. Everyone, this is my new assistant, Meghan. She’s
been with me a week and has been great.”

“I wouldn’t say great.” Meghan stepped into the center of the room. “But I haven’t
burned anything yet.”

“Meghan, this is my family and obviously you already know Sam.”

“Hey.” Meghan gave a short wave and then took the second chair near the settee. “I
heard you got beat up pretty bad.” Her eyes widened and she put her hand to her mouth.
“I mean . . . you look better than people were sayin’.” She shook her head and tried
again. “I mean, you look good.” She clamped her mouth shut. Her piercings glittered
in the afternoon light.

“Thanks. I would smile but my face won’t move.”

“I’ll get some ice for that,” Rosa said as she passed through, chasing after her son
who had a plate full of food and was running through the house.

Having grown up in such a big family, the noise and bustle didn’t bother me. I watched
Sam closely. He seemed relaxed and kicked his legs out in front of him. Meghan acted
a bit uncomfortable, though.

“So—” we both said at the same time.

“Go ahead.” She waved at me.

“You owe me a Coke,” I teased her. “Listen, I plan on opening the bakery as usual
Monday.”

“What?”

“Really?”

“No.”

Everyone talked at once. I raised my hand palm up and waited for the protests to stop.
“Yes, really. Tim can take me in to work and can be my delivery boy for the next week.
After that, the doctor assures me I will be fine and able to drive again.”

People opened their mouths to speak and I raised my hand again. “And, if Meghan wants
to work some extra hours, she can work my schedule and see that if I get tired the
shop is manned.” That seemed to shut most of them up. “Meghan, do you have time to
work the extra hours this week?”

“Are you kidding?” Her eyes twinkled. “That would be awesome. If I want to learn the
business, I always knew I needed to be there as long as you.”

“It’s only for a week, but it will give you a taste of what it’s like to run the place.”

“Thanks!” She got up. “I’d better go. I’ve got some things to take care of. What time
will you be there?”

“I’ll be at the back of the shop at four
A.M.
”

“Cool.” She reached out and squeezed my hand. “I promise to be as big a help as I
can.”

“I’m counting on it.”

Meghan pushed through the crowded parlor, then stopped for a second and turned to
me. “I have to ask: Did you really think Uncle Sam was the killer and I was spying
for him?”

Everyone looked at me; you could have heard a pin drop. “Maybe.” I shrugged. “For
a moment.”

Meghan’s eyes lit up and her smile widened. “That’s so cool. Me, a spy. Ha!” She left
the house.

“She really is a nice girl.” I rested my gaze on Sam and pretended not to be embarrassed
by my earlier suspicions. “Thank you again for sending her my way.”

“It was my pleasure. Listen, I’ve got to go, but I can check in on you later.”

“I’m good,” I said as he leaned down and brushed a featherlight kiss on the one spot
on my face that wasn’t swollen. My guess was he’d been sitting there the whole time
trying to figure out where to plant one that wouldn’t hurt.

“I’ll be back. You take care now.” He said his good-byes to my family and left.

“Knock, knock.” Todd Woles stepped into the doorway. “Sam Greenbaum said I should
just come on in. Oh my God, honey, your lovely face!” He rushed over and fluttered
over me. “That bastard.”

I noticed he had roses in his hand. “Are those for me?”

“Oh, yes, I thought you would need something to cheer you.” He handed them to me.
“Now that I see you, I know you need something.”

“I’m fine, really.” I enjoyed the fragrance of his orange and yellow roses. “You should
see the other guy.”

Todd sat down in the wing chair and tugged his waistcoat into place. Yes, the man
had dressed to the nines just to come see me. “I certainly hope you kicked his ass.”

“We did.” I put the roses on my lap. “You look dapper.”

“Do you think so?” He brushed imaginary lint off his slacks.

“You always dress better than anyone else I’ve ever known.”

“Well, I do run a men’s clothing store.” His eyes twinkled at me. “Phil wanted to
come but he had a last-minute gig. He sings, you know.”

“Really? Professionally?”

“You should check out his website.”

“I will.”

He leaned over and took my hand and squeezed it. “I wanted you to know I appreciated
your coffee invite. Even if it was because you thought I might have killed George.”

I felt the heat of a blush. “Yeah, about that . . .”

“No worries.” He patted. “You were simply trying to solve a mystery. I would have
done the same.”

“If it makes any difference, I never really thought it was you.”

He straightened and his eyes smiled. “I know.”

“Can I ask?”

“What?”

“Is it hard being different and a successful business owner in Oiltop?” I tilted my
head and studied him.

He smiled warmly. “Honey, we’ll talk when you feel better.” He patted my hand.

“Did you ever get threat letters?”

He frowned. “You’ve gotten threat letters?”

“Chief Blaylock says he’s pretty sure it was George sending them. But I wondered if
you had ever gotten them.”

He paused, his dark eyes misty. “We’ll talk when you feel better. Okay?”

“Okay.” I took a deep breath, suddenly very tired. “Thanks for coming by. I hope we
can be friends.”

“Oh, honey, we’re already friends.” He picked up the flowers. “I’ll make sure these
get in water. You rest.”

My eyes were tired and my lids heavy. I decided it couldn’t hurt to rest them a moment.

When I woke up, the house was quiet. A single lamp was lit in the far corner. Brad
sat in a wing-backed chair and was reading something that might have been legal briefs.
I must have made a sound because he looked up. “Hello.” He tucked his reading glasses
away. His handsome face held concern and the right touch of horror at my appearance
so I knew he wasn’t faking it. “Can I get you something?”

“Water would be great.” I tried to sit up but felt like I’d been hit by a truck. I
put my head back down on the pillow. He brought me a glass with a straw in it. I grabbed
the napkin and sipped the water then dabbed at my mouth. There was pain there, too,
which meant I was healing. “Where is everyone?”

“Tim is upstairs sleeping. I guess it’s his day off from work. Richard and your sisters
left. Lucy put the food in the fridge and told me which puddings were good for you.
Do you want something to eat?”

“How long have you been here?”

“About two hours.” He put his hand on my hand to stop my protest. “It’s all right,
I’ve been working on some briefs.”

“Where did the day go?”

“I imagine it went down the pain pill rabbit hole.” He raised an eyebrow. “Are you
hungry? Do you want anything?”

“I’m good.”

“I brought you flowers.” His tone was sheepish and I opened my eyes to see that he
pointed to another large, lovely bouquet. “Looks like I’m not the only one. Let me
guess, Sam Greenbaum.”

“I’m—”

“I know, I know, not dating.” He crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head.
“You’ll let me know when you’re ready, right?”

“After my run-in with Craig last night, I may never be ready,” I muttered. “He thought
he owned Tasha simply because she’d dated him for two months. You should have seen
the anger in his eyes.”

“Those were his eyes, Toni,” Brad said, his tone soft and sad. “Not mine, and I wager
not Sam’s either.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“I do.” Silence echoed through the room. It was awkward and I thought I’d fill it.
“What do we do now, oh, lawyer of mine? Do we sue Craig for battery and mental abuse?”

Brad’s electric-blue eyes shone and his mouth curved up on one side. “Let’s let the
prosecutor take his shot before we think about civil charges. Okay?”

“Darn, does this mean it’ll be years before I get my millions?” I asked tongue in
cheek.

“Sorry to say it, but yes, it’ll be years.”

“Too bad.” I sighed in a long and dramatic fashion. “It would have been fun being
a millionaire. I could go to Cabo and lounge about on the beach with cabana boys.”

“I like it better when you’re here.” He sat back. “And I don’t fancy being a cabana
boy anytime soon.”

“What? If I were a millionaire I could get my face repaired and take us both to the
beach.”

He leaned over and brushed my cheek. “I wouldn’t do a thing to your face.”

“Then you, Mr. Attorney, need glasses.”

“What I need to do is give you your pain pill and let you get some sleep. Are you
working Monday?”

“Yes.”

“Then get some rest.” He handed me a pain pill and my water glass. “And for goodness’
sake, stay away from criminals.”

“I’ll try my best.”

CHAPTER
37

I
t seemed being beaten half to death was also profitable.

Monday was busy. Lucky for me, there had been a surge in online orders. I did a lot
of sitting while Meghan made up most of the batters. Time flies when you have a long
list, and before I knew it, it was time to open the shop. I have to admit, I made
Meghan check to ensure Rocky Rhode and his camera were nowhere in sight.

He wasn’t. It seemed whatever Sam said to him had stuck. I didn’t know if I was happy
or disappointed to no longer be caught by paparazzi.

After we opened, we had a steady stream of curious customers come in, not as much
for the food as to get a peek at my battered face. I had dabbed makeup on the worst
of it, but my skin hurt too much to get it all. The men whistled at my black eyes,
swollen cheek, and stitches on my temple. The women winced. The little boys gawked
and the little girls looked away. I was a sight.

Poor Meghan ran around in the back room like a chicken with its head cut off. She
had to refill the display cabinet twice. I gave her a break when the crowd dispersed
around ten
A.M.,
and she was happy to sit in the back with her feet up on a step stool and a cup of
coffee in her hand.

The front doorbell jingled and I stepped out of the kitchen to see Ralph Kennedy come
in. “Hi, how can I help you?” I kept it simple even though my heart rate sped up.
This was Craig’s brother, after all. Would he be mad at me? I fingered the cell phone
in my apron pocket.

“Hi, Ms. Holmes.” Ralph came up to the front. “I’d like a coffee and a cinnamon roll,
please.”

His manner was quiet, gentle like all the other times I’d seen him. His eyes looked
incredibly sad, a sea of brown despair. I handed him a cup and saucer. “The coffee
carafes are over there. I’ll be right out with your roll if you want to grab a seat.”

“Sure.”

I put a big roll on a plate and watched him carefully as he made his coffee and then
sat down in the far corner table with his back to the wall and facing the door. He
didn’t look like he could hurt a soul, and I wasn’t going to label him like his brother.
That wasn’t fair, was it? I mean, I hated it when people lumped me in with some of
my brothers’ antics. Seriously, you are not your siblings. I took the roll over to
him and put it on the table.

“Can you sit with me?” he asked.

“Well . . .”

“I want to apologize for my brother.”

“There’s no need.” I shrugged. “You weren’t there. You didn’t do it.”

“He’s still my brother,” Ralph sighed and blew on his coffee and took a sip. “Please
sit.”

I glanced over at the kitchen door. There was no way Meghan could see me here, but
I did have my cell phone in my pocket. I took the chair next to him and pulled it
out. I had to sit slowly since it wasn’t only my face that had been badly bruised.

“Look at you.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe Craig would do that. Our mama,
God rest her soul, must be turning over in her grave knowing he hit a woman.”

“Two women,” I pointed out. “He beat Tasha pretty bad, too.”

“Craig has always had a flash temper and no sense.” Ralph sighed and sipped coffee.
“It runs in the family.”

A shiver went down my back and I glanced at the kitchen door a moment. “Really?”

“Yes, I’m afraid, try as hard as she could, our mama couldn’t beat that out of us.
One or the other of us was always doing something stupid. Craig was the one who got
caught the most. It got so as I would do something and blame it on him. Ma expected
him to be the bad one, and she never questioned me about it.” He paused and picked
at the roll. “Poor Craig took a lot of heat. It’s why he’s only an adjunct, you know.
He was bright enough and educated enough to be a full-time instructor, but his record
with the police gave the committee pause. Not that they should have known about it.
I mean, juvenile records are sealed, right?”

“He hadn’t done anything since he was a kid?” That didn’t sound right to me.

“He hadn’t gotten caught since he was a kid,” Ralph corrected. “Unfortunately, the
hiring committee here had several people who knew of his juvenile record. In fact,
I’m surprised you and Tasha didn’t know.”

I hugged myself. “I’ve been gone for ten years and my memories of Oiltop are hazy
on purpose. As for Tasha, she wasn’t the kind of kid to pass around rumors. Plus,
her mom was always working. They were too busy trying to pay the rent and eat proper
to know what the older kids in town did.”

“That makes sense, I guess. I told Craig he should have moved away, but he didn’t
want to be far from the homestead. He was close to Mama, you see, always looking to
make her happy. Do you know what her dying words were to him?”

“No.” I shook my head, but stopped quickly when pain rattled through my brain like
lightning. The pain pills were wearing off.

“‘Be a man and get married, make a family, make me happy,’” Ralph said. “I had my
wife and boy, of course, but things went bad when my son was diagnosed with autism.
Amelia left me to go live with her mother.” Ralph shrugged. “I get to see my son at
least once a month. I send support money. I look for new treatments, but still I think
she blames me somehow for how he turned out.”

“Oh, that’s not right,” I said, leaning forward. “Asperger’s and autism have nothing
to do with what a parent does or doesn’t do.”

“I know that. She knows that, but still, a person can’t help but suspect and worry.
Amelia didn’t want to have any more kids. My chance is over.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand how this has anything to do with what your brother
did.” I leaned back and crossed my arms over my chest.

“That’s what I’m trying to explain,” Ralph said. “You see, Craig killed Ed for his
lady love, but he didn’t kill George.”

“He didn’t kill George?” I tilted my head. “How do you know?”

Ralph looked me calmly in the eyes, his expression as smooth as an undisturbed pond.
“Because I killed George.”

Before I realized what I was doing I was out of the chair and had my thumb on the
speed dial button for the police. It was an impulse, really. Ralph didn’t act like
a threat. Still, I’d been through too much not to react when I heard someone confess
to murder. Meghan came running from the back at the sound of my chair falling over.

“Now, you don’t have to do that,” Ralph said to me.

“What’s the matter?” Meghan scurried around the counter. I stepped back and put a
table between me and Ralph.

Sarah was on the cell phone. “Nine-one-one, how can I help you?”

“This is Toni Holmes,” I said.

“Oh, honey, not again. Are you all right?”

Three cop cars came screaming down Main Street and screeched to a halt in front of
my store. Unfortunately, the policemen all ran toward the pharmacy.

“I told you, you didn’t have to call them.” Ralph stood.

“Stay away from me.” I put my hand out. “The cops are right outside.”

“Ms. Holmes?” Meghan asked behind me.

“Go to the kitchen,” I ordered.

“I’m not leaving you alone.” She grabbed a broom and held it like a samurai ready
to do battle.

“Toni?” Sarah said from what sounded like a million miles away on my cell. “What is
going on?”

“Ralph Kennedy is in my bakery,” I said. “He just admitted to killing George Meister.”

“Oh, crap,” Sarah muttered. “I mean, the guys are at the pharmacy now. I’ll send them
over to you.”

“Thanks.”

Ralph took a step toward the windows and drew out a long breath. “Don’t worry, ladies,
I’m going to give myself up. I’ve been meaning to do it for some time, but I had to
take the time to get my affairs in order. You see, I couldn’t leave my boy and his
mother without any income.” He turned away from the windows. “I knew it was only a
matter of time before they came for me. You were right.” He gave me a sad smile. “I
killed George with the bank bag.”

“Why?” I trembled, my arm around Meghan. “Why would you do such a thing?”

“It wasn’t planned.” His voice was quiet. “I was taking the deposit to the bank and
saw George starting to spray paint on your building. I stopped him. That’s when he
said it.”

“Said what?”

“He said your bakery was for genetic defects who were born with sin. He said no one
who ate here would ever go to heaven.” Tears came to Ralph’s tired eyes. “He said
my boy would go to hell for being born. I didn’t even think. I hit him with the bag.
He went face-first into the trough and I left him there.”

The front door burst open. Chief Blaylock came in with his gun drawn. “Put your hands
up!” he shouted. Officer Emry pushed behind him, gun out, and stepped between the
men and us. Two other officers entered. They had Ralph on the ground, his arms behind
his back and cuffed. When they dragged him to his feet, Ralph had a look of acceptance
on his face. “I’m sorry,” he said. “For all the trouble you’ve had.”

“Ralph Kennedy, you are under arrest for the murder of George Meister,” the chief
said. “Take him down to the station.”

I clung to Meghan and she clung to me, the broom still in her hand. We watched them
hustle Ralph out and into a squad car.

“Did that really just happen?” Meghan asked.

“Are you ladies all right?” Chief Blaylock asked.

“Yes.” I nodded. “He didn’t touch us.”

“Thank God for that,” I heard Sarah’s voice come out of my cell phone. I lifted the
cell to my ear. “Thanks, Sarah, I think it’s over now.”

“About darn time,” she said before she hung up.

The commotion brought people downtown to take a look. Chief Blaylock called the ambulance
even though I told him it wasn’t necessary. Then he took my statement while Meghan
sold coffee and cupcakes.

The shipping guy came in, picked up the online order boxes, and asked what all the
excitement was about.

“Just another day at the bakery.” Meghan winked at me. “There’s always something cooking
at Baker’s Treat.”

“Sounds like a cool place to work,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

“It is,” Meghan replied. “It is.”

• • •

W
e closed early after selling out everything in the store. I sat through an interview
with Candy. She was pretty upset Grandma Ruth had gotten the first exclusive so we
let her have the final report. Grandma Ruth came down to the bakery to see me home.
Tim drove us both in the van, me in the passenger seat and Grandma strapped in next
to her scooter.

“Who knew mild-mannered Ralph would be capable of murder,” I said as we pulled up
to the house.

“Oh, kiddo, any person in the world could kill if their baby was threatened. It’s
a law of nature,” Grandma Ruth said and winked. “You’d know that if you were to have
any kids.”

I shook my head and carefully climbed out of the van. Bill was there to take Grandma
Ruth’s scooter out of the van. Tasha and Kip were on the front porch waiting for me.
Tasha looked pretty beat-up as she swung on the porch swing, but she still wore a
lovely blue dress and denim jacket. “We came over to help you eat all the food Lucy
left.”

I smiled. It hurt less. I don’t know if it was the pain pills the ambulance guys had
poured down my throat or if I was healing. “We sold out today,” I said as I climbed
the stairs. “I think the bakery is starting to really get a toehold in the community.”

“You really should think about turning this house into an inn,” Tasha said as I unlocked
the door and let everyone inside. “Whoever buys the Welcome Inn could use some stiff
competition.”

I studied her face. Her expression was serene and accepting. “You put the inn up for
sale?”

“Had to,” she said with a shrug. “Everything happens for a reason.” She took my arm
in hers. “I think now is as good a time to admit this as any, but I never did ask
Craig to follow you.”

“You didn’t?” I drew my eyebrows into a confused frown. “But when I told you he followed
me, you acted like you knew.”

“The key word there is
act
.” Tasha took a deep breath. “At the time I thought if I told you I never asked him
to do that, you’d worry or worse . . . you’d judge me.”

“I’d worry, yes.” I squeezed her arm. “But you have to know I wouldn’t judge you.”

“I do know. I saw a counselor today and she told me that my worry you were judging
me was a natural reaction to Craig’s isolation. She told me to tell you the truth
from now on.”

“She is a smart woman.”

“We have to look at the good and not dwell on the bad, right? Besides, I’ll have more
time for Kip.”

“What are you going to do for work?” I asked.

“I talked to Don Becher over at the Ramada. He’s been looking for a general manager.
If I take it, he’s promised me weekday hours and free time to run Kip where he needs
to go.”

“And where will you live?”

She looked at me and I understood. “Welcome home.” I squeezed her until we both hurt.
“You can have the fourth floor for as long as you need it.” There were two small bedrooms,
a bath, and a small bonus room up there.