Read Murderous Muffins Online

Authors: Lois Lavrisa

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Cozy

Murderous Muffins (2 page)

Also by Lois Lavrisa

 

 

 

Liquid Lies
: Novel
(Mystery, Thriller, Suspense)

 

Christmas Corpse Caper
: Short Story
(Mystery/Romance: Prequel to Liquid Lies)

 

 

 

 

Chubby Chicks Club: Cozy Southern Mystery Series

 

Dying For Dinner Rolls
:
Book One

Murderous Muffins
:
Book Two

Homicide by Hamlet:
Book Three

Killing with Kings:
Book Four

Puzzled by Purple:
Book Five

 

 

 

Thomson Twins Tales: Chubby Chicks Club Spinoff

 

Thomson Twins Tales
(Short story box set) contains all three stories below:

Picture Not Perfect
:
Volume One YA Short Story (Mystery/Sweet Romance)

Turnabout Twist
: Volume Two YA Short Story (Sweet Romance)

Treat or Trick
: Volume Three YA Short Story (Suspense)

Dedication

 

For my Aunt Linda and Uncle Steve, thank you for your abundant and gracious hospitality at your lovely Minnesota lake home.  I want to extend a heartfelt appreciation for teaching me to water-ski when I was sixteen, and decades later, for teaching my children to water-ski on the very same lake. Your door and your heart are always open—you have a gift for making everyone feel welcome and at home.

Chapter One

 

The oven’s digital temperature flashed zeros.

“Doggone thing could make a preacher cuss.” I yanked out the muffin pan and slammed the oven shut. Setting it on the cooling rack, I poked a toothpick in the top of one of the chocolate chip treats. Dry. Praise the Lord, at least they’d finished cooking before the oven went out again. The switch probably needed to be rewired.

“Good thing you learned some fixer-upper techniques from YouTube,” I told myself.

Continuing my morning routine, I reached in the refrigerator, which thankfully still worked, pulled out a glass pitcher of orange juice, and placed it on the table. After pouring the freshly brewed coffee into a warming carafe, I set out cups, glasses, silverware, and small plates. I placed crisp white linen napkins near the flowered heirloom dishes and rearranged the blue hydrangeas in the crystal vase in the center of the kitchen table. Straightening the yellow lace tablecloth to smooth out any wrinkles, I lined up the glasses and cups.

Before my boarders woke, I returned to the walk-in pantry—which doubled as my makeshift bedroom. I gathered the tattered quilt and threadbare blanket. Folding the blanket, I set it on the small cot with the paper-thin mattress and placed my pillow on top of the pile. Closing the pantry door, I looked around my sunny yellow kitchen with ten-foot ceilings, splinter cracks in the plaster, and worn whitewashed pine cupboards that stretched high above gray-speckled Formica countertops. As I walked, the heart pine floors creaked, a comforting sound that brought me back to my childhood. Hide-and-seek had its challenges then because the seeker could always hear the telltale squeak in the floorboards and the hider would be discovered in short order.

Throughout my youth, I’d considered this house a castle, with me as the resident princess. With the help of my nanny, Hattie, I named our home Amia, which meant “beloved.”

Sighing aloud, I put my hand on a yellow plaster wall as I rubbed my fingertips along the peeling rough and brittle paint. As a child, I’d taped my drawings on the very same wall. Every inch of this house seeped with memories of the Gordons’ generations who once lived here. Sometimes I could close my eyes and hear laughter floating from the sitting room, where my parents and grandparents had spent countless hours entertaining friends, family, and visitors. The parlor was where Hattie and I would stay up late at night watching old movies, memorizing our favorite lines. “Amia, you are all I have left of my family, even if you’re falling apart. I’ll keep us together. I promise.”

A quote from Citizen Kane popped into my head: “I can remember everything. That's my curse, young man. It's the greatest curse that's ever been inflicted on the human race: memory.” How true that was.

The doorbell chimed. Who could that be at 7:00 a.m.? Taking a quick glance at my reflection in the silver teakettle, I smoothed my flyaway blonde hair and straightened the bow on my pale blue sundress. Good enough for this early in the morning.

Upon opening the door, I saw my dear friend, Cat. Even at this hour, she looked adorable. Her pale skin and dark hair made her white teeth look even brighter. Half Korean and half Caucasian, Cat stood about five foot six, a few inches shorter than me. At forty, and after her two sets of twins, she had a remarkably cute, slim figure.

I stood five foot ten, slender with wispy shoulder-length blonde hair and green eyes, quite a contrast to Cat’s dark hair and more athletic build. Sometimes I envied Cat. Her husband, Andrew, adored her and had to be the nicest guy this side of the Mason-Dixon Line. My only luck attracting men seemed to be of the bad variety.

A suitcase stood next to her. Was she heading to the airport? “Good morning.” I tried to hold down the confusion in my voice for fear of sounding rude. “How lovely to see you.”

A strand of Cat’s hair fell across her eyes. “Bezu, I’m sorry about the early hour and all, but I knew you’d be up.”

“Please, come in. Would you like some breakfast? I have fresh muffins.”

“It smells great in here. Like my mom’s kitchen when she gets in the baking mood.”

“Hattie used to say, ‘A home is warmed by love and what is baking in the oven.’ Let me get you something to eat.” I then asked, “Are you going somewhere? I don’t want to keep you from anything.”

“Like what?”

“Your flight? Or travel plans?”

Cat tilted her head. “Why do you think that?”

“You have a suitcase. I thought that perhaps you were on the way to the airport.” Always glad to help a friend, I added, “I’d be glad to give you a ride if you need one.”

“No. Not going anywhere too far.” Cat’s eyes were puffy, as if she hadn’t slept. “I sort of moved out of my house.”

“Oh my.” My heart sank for her. She and Andrew had been married over twenty years. Was there something wrong with her marriage? “Moved out?”

Dread overcame me. As much as I loved her, I hoped she wasn’t going to ask to stay here. My house was full. And then there was my secret. It was all too complicated.

“It’s only temporary.” Cat picked up the suitcase and followed me back to the kitchen. She plopped down in a chair.

Thinking of Cat moving out of her beloved home caused a vise-like grip in my gut. I hoped that she was okay. Pouring two cups of coffee, I set one down in front of her.

Poor thing. “I don’t mean to pry, but what’s going on? I’m assuming that something not so great happened at your house?”

Cat sighed. “It’s tricky.”

“If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay.”

“No. I mean, I’ll talk. It’s not that things are bad. It’s just that they aren’t right, either. That’s the reason I left.”

I pulled a chair up to the table and sat next to her. “Oh?”

“You see, my mom took the girls to Korea, and Andrew and Tadcu went with them. My mom and dad took the boys when they were the same age. Of course, they wanted me to go, too, but no way was I going. I put my foot down and said no one should go, not after my dad got killed.”

“Your dad died here, not in Korea.”

“I know.” Cat shook her head. “It’s weird, but I have this feeling that it’s not safe if we’re not together, keeping an eye out for each other.”

“You mean, it’s not safe if you can’t keep a constant vigil over everyone. Which means keeping them all here under your watchful eye?”

“Hmmph.” Cat grabbed a muffin and tore off a piece.

I reached over and placed my hand on top of hers. “Cat, I’m sorry about what happened to your dad.”

Cat nodded, looking at me with watery eyes. She turned a ring on her thumb. “I need to stay in Savannah and find his killer. It’s hard to explain, but somehow I feel that I’d lose momentum if I stopped now.”

“You still think it was murder and not just a botched robbery like the police said?”

“Yes.” Cat’s deep brown eyes widened. “And I’m getting so close to finding out what really happened that night.”

“How so?” I asked.

“Remember that his former business partner, Micky Zwick, died suddenly as well. That makes three dead partners, who all had crossword puzzles with messages in purple ink left near their corpses. That’s gotta mean something.”

“Like what?”

“A clue.” Cat shrugged. “I’m not sure. But the trail is hot. I can’t leave it. Not now.” Cat leaned in, closer to the table. “Also, I have boxes in my SUV. I’ve wanted go over some accounting stuff for Sunshine Market. We have so much to take care of now that my dad is gone, and it’s too much for my mom to do. So you see, I have way too much to do here. I just couldn’t go with them.”

“I see.” I just nodded halfheartedly, not really understanding her reasoning for staying here when she could be on vacation with her family. But I cherished her and wanted to be supportive.

Cat twisted her mouth as though in deep thought. “And my house is so eerie now that it’s empty. I can’t sleep there.”

I felt bad for her. She seemed so lost.

Cat unfolded a napkin. “So, I came here.”

Uh oh. I wanted so badly to offer her a place to stay, but then she’d find out what I had tried to hide from her and the rest of the Chubby Chicks Club. They couldn’t know that I was illegally taking in boarders. I could get in all sorts of financial and legal trouble. Not that they would tell anyone, but once it was out of the bag, who knew who might find out? I had a pile of letters from the IRS and needed the tenants’ rent money just to keep the house from being taken away.

How did I tell a friend—whom I would do anything for—that she couldn’t reside with me? At least not now. I’d be humiliated if she knew that I’d run out of money, was close to bankruptcy, and was teetering on the edge of losing my house. Maybe she wouldn’t ask me, although she had shown up at my doorstep with her luggage. So it was only a matter of time. I fidgeted with my hair. “It’s nice out today. Don’t you think? Not too stiflingly humid, as it has been. I think it’ll be a perfect day.”

“Yes.” Cat gazed at me as she sipped her coffee. “I really don’t want to bother you, but I’d like to ask you something.” She set her cup down and looked inside it.

“Oh?” Perhaps her cup was empty. I picked up the carafe. “Do you need more? Here, let me top you off.”

Cat put her hand over her cup. “No. I’m fine. But thanks.”

“Was there something else?”

Cat played with the saucer under her cup. She moved it side to side. “You see, I was thinking about the Chubby Chicks Club. And I thought… Well, I don’t know how to say this.”

“What?”

Cat gazed at the flower centerpiece. “Um, well, never mind.”

Maybe she didn’t want to stay here after all. “Speaking of our little group, what are Annie Mae and José up to? I haven’t seen them in a while.”

“Annie Mae is away on an exchange professor teaching assignment at UNC Chapel Hill.”

I asked, “Is that so? She’s still working even though she’s retired?”

Cat grinned. “She loves to keep busy. I tell you what. She had so much fun playing detective on Lucy’s case with me. I think if she had a chance, she would do it again. As for me, trying to find out what happened to my dad, keeping my family safe, and running the business is enough. I don’t need to get involved in sleuthing.”

I added, “Although, I was very proud of how you and Annie Mae found out who killed Lucy.”

Cat smirked. “I have to admit, I kind of liked being a hero for the day and putting Scarlett behind bars.”

“That was great. The whole city is still talking about it, too. You and Annie Mae were celebrities.” I sipped my coffee. “Who knew a sweet, rather upstanding store owner could commit murder?”

“I know. People never fail to surprise me.”

“You’re right about that.”

“I’m glad that whole detective thing is done and behind me. Anyway, Annie Mae is out of town. She invited me to go up to North Carolina with her. But I said that I needed to stay in Savannah. Keep my eye on things here.” Cat’s shoulders sagged. “I’d like to talk to her, but she said she’s going to be out of touch for a few days as well. We’ll see her soon enough, not that anything exciting is going to happen around here that she’ll miss.”

“No kidding. It’s pretty lackluster around here.” I asked, “So, I’ve been out of the loop for a few days, what’s going on with José?”

“He’s showing the ropes to some new police recruits.”

“Good. It never hurts to have more law enforcement on the streets.” I fidgeted with my cup. “Does he still play poker?”

Cat nodded. “All the time. He told me that he won big the other night.”

“He’s lucky.”

“Well, I’m not so sure about that. He keeps winning against his arch rival, Officer Ray.”

“Yes, I remember him. We met him the day we found Lucy.” My heart sank as I thought back to when all of us had found Lucy on the floor of her house, wrist slit open.

Cat paused for a moment. “I still can’t believe that she’s gone.”

“Me, either.” My eyes welled up. “But we still have each other.”

“I am so thankful for all of you.” Cat put her hands in prayer formation.

“Me, too. The Chubby Chicks Club is my family.”

“Speaking of family, now that mine are out of town, actually out of the country, I’d like to find a place to stay so I won’t be alone.”

The back of my throat tickled. I let out a small cough. “Any place in mind?”

“José has an extra room at his house, but forget that. A married woman like me at a hunky single guy’s place just wouldn’t do.” Cat’s dark brown eyes shifted up.

I leaned forward in my chair. “But he’s not interested in women.”

Cat grinned as we locked eyes. “You, Annie Mae, and I know that, but no one else does. It could cause a scandal.”

“You’re right. You know what they say about Savannah: ‘If you don’t know what you’re doing, someone else does.’”

“Did Hattie say that?” Cat smiled.

“She had more Southern expressions than there are azaleas in Savannah.” Because of my frequent use of Southernisms, Cat and Annie Mae kidded me that I spoke another language. “But you won’t be by yourself. Aren’t your boys still home?”

“Nope. They’re spending a few days at a friend’s Tybee beach house. I’m solo.” Cat tapped the table.

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