Thirty-Four and a Half Predicaments: Rose Gardner Mystery #7 (2 page)

And suddenly I had an idea how to cheer Neely Kate up. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket.

“No. I haven’t seen her around. Is she staying with Joe or Hilary?”

“No. She doesn’t get along with Hilary and Joe’s only just moved out to the farm south of me.”

“Strange.”

“I know,” I mumbled, but my attention was elsewhere. I pulled up the number for the Nip and Clip Salon.

“Just a minute,” I told Jonah before putting the call through.

“Hello, Beulah?” I said when the owner answered. “I’d like to make an appointment for Neely Kate Colson this afternoon to get colored streaks in her hair.”

“That poor girl,” Beulah said, then tsked. “How’s she doin’?”

“She’s hangin’ in there. Do you have an opening this afternoon?”

“I can squeeze her in at two. Will that work?”

“We’ll be there.” I hung up and looked up the shocked minister, which I found ironic since he obviously had regular appointments to get his own highlights touched up. “What? She’s mentioned several times that she wants them and I’ve done my best to talk her out of them. But why not? If Neely Kate wants to dye her hair purple with yellow polka dots, I’m gonna be there to help her pick out the right shade.”

He smiled. “Neely Kate’s lucky to have you as a friend.”

I wasn’t so sure about that. The last two weeks I felt like I’d failed her miserably.

But that was about to change.

After my chat with Jonah, I couldn’t concentrate on the design program, so I left Muffy with Bruce Wayne and headed over to the nursery.

Violet was talking to a customer when I walked in the store, but she pointed me toward a card table she’d set up in the back. I stopped short of it, my stomach a bundle of nerves. The folding chair reminded me too much of the day after Thanksgiving when Violet and Joe had ganged up on me to tell me Joe had saved our business. Violet had mismanaged our nursery so badly that we were about to lose it all, especially after a big bank deposit had been stolen from me in a bank robbery. I’d gotten the money back in time—although in the process I’d dug the first shovelful of a very deep pit I was now in with Skeeter Malcolm, king of the Fenton County crime world, in my attempts to get it back. But it had been all for naught. Joe had helped Violet and me prepare the nursery for its first opening, and Violet had played on Joe’s previous involvement with the business, not to mention his hopes to win me back, to secure his help. Joe had paid off our entire bank loan and there was no way to pay him back. I was stuck with my ex-boyfriend as my business partner.

That very same day Hilary Wilder, Joe’s ex-girlfriend many times over, had waltzed in to announce she was pregnant with Joe’s baby. Nearly two months later, I’d gotten over the fact that Joe had put money into our business without my permission, but I still hadn’t gotten over Hilary’s bombshell. Maybe it was because when we were together he’d sworn to me time and time again he was done with her…yet he’d run right out my door and into her arms. I knew that wasn’t entirely true—he’d waited several weeks—but it made me question everything we’d shared.

It didn’t matter anyway. Now I was with Mason. And what Joe needed most now was love and support from friends. I shook off the old memories and hurts.

The bell on the door dinged as the customer left.

“How many people did you interview?” I asked, looking over the folders on the table.

Violet walked over to me. “Three. All were great applicants on paper, but the interviews really helped.”

I watched Violet closely, looking for any sign that she resented my insistence on providing my input. Thankfully, I found none. “Do you have a favorite?”

She opened one of the folders. “I do, actually. Anna Miller. She’s in her early thirties and she just moved to Henryetta. She has retail experience.”

I looked at her work history on her application. “She moved to Henryetta? This town is like Alcatraz—everyone one wants out, not in, and it’s pretty much inescapable.” I shook my head. “Does she have family here?”

“No, and when I asked her why she’d moved here, she was evasive.”

I glanced up at my sister. “Maybe she’s just a private person.”

“Could be…”

“You think there’s more there?”

“I don’t know, but I’d still like to hire her. She’s a sweet girl and I like her enthusiasm. The other two applicants didn’t seem to want it as much.”

I slid the folder back to her. “And she knows it’s only part-time to start?”

“Yeah, although she’s hoping to work full-time soon.”

“If you like her, then you should hire her. She’ll probably be great.”

Violet gathered the folders together. “That was easy. I thought you’d ask a lot more questions.”

“I’m not trying to make things difficult for you. I just think it’s best if I’m a little more hands-on for now.”

She stood and headed to the counter. “I understand.” But her tone suggested otherwise.

My head tingled again, and though the last thing I wanted right now was to be sucked into a vision, I tried not to resist it. I’d learned from experience it was pointless.

I was in the shop, humming.

A pretty African-American woman emerged from the back room, a soft smile warming up her deep brown eyes. She wore a Gardner Sisters Nursery apron over a burgundy shirt and jeans. “I think we’re all ready for Valentine’s Day.”

“You’re a natural, Anna,” I said in Violet’s voice. “You’re a blessing sent from heaven. It’s like you literally just dropped out of nowhere.”

The vision ended and I said, “Anna’s a blessing sent from heaven.”

Violet’s eyes widened. “What?”

Though I could have explained the vision to her, there was no real point. It hadn’t told me anything important or pressing. I sighed and followed her. “I think Anna will be great. When do you want her to start?”

“Don’t you think we should discuss it with Joe first?”

“I thought you said Joe doesn’t care.”

“He
is
part owner.”

“I don’t want to discuss it with Joe. I’m majority owner and I say it’s fine. But if you feel the need, go ahead and run it by him.”

She gave me a pointed glance. “You have to talk to him, Rose. You’re acting childish.” She was quiet for a moment. “You haven’t spoken to him since the day Neely Kate lost her babies, have you?”

I didn’t answer. What did it matter to her?

“How’s Neely Kate doin’?”

“Not so great, but I have a special surprise planned for her this afternoon.”

“That’s good. Just give her lots of love.” Tears filled her eyes. “Your love was the best medicine when it happened to me.”

I pulled my sister into a hug. “Sometimes I forget you lost a baby right after you and Mike were married. How’d you survive it?” After my own baby scare and the surprising disappointment I’d felt after finding out I wasn’t pregnant, I couldn’t imagine losing a baby I’d planned for and wanted from before its conception.

She gave me a soft smile. “It helped knowing I was loved.”

“Is it hard to think about how happy you once were after everything that’s happened?”

Her eyes filled with sadness. “I have to believe everything will work out for the best.” She forced a smile. “Besides, I have Ashley and Mikey now. Neely Kate will have other babies.” She grabbed my hand, worry wrinkling her forehead. “But don’t be telling her that. Too many well-meaning people say things like that and it hurts more than it helps.”

I shook my head. “I won’t.”

“Just be yourself. That’s the best you can offer her.”

“Thanks.” I headed out to my truck and glanced at my phone, seeing I had a missed call and a text from Mason.

Sorry I couldn’t get away to meet you for lunch, but I can spend a few minutes with you this afternoon if you get a chance.

I smiled and texted:
Lucky you.
I have about fifteen minutes to spare.

I drove back downtown and parked halfway between the courthouse and Dena’s Bakery, the new competition to Ima Jean’s Bakery. Ima Jean’s was a Henryetta institution. Rumor had it her bakery had been open since the town’s incorporation in 1865. I wasn’t so sure about that, but her baked goods certainly tasted old enough to have been prepared for the grand opening. Dena, on the other hand, had a knack for creating delicious treats. I knew for a fact that Neely Kate loved her strawberry cupcakes, and since Mason had a weakness for pie, I figured I could kill two birds with one stone.

Dena greeted me as soon as I walked into the bakery, glancing up with a smile as she packaged a cupcake for the man at her counter. He had thinning gray hair and wore dress pants and a white dress shirt. I was pretty sure I’d seen him at the courthouse before while visiting Mason or Neely Kate, back when she still worked there. He cast a baleful glance at me as I let the chilly January air inside, then turned back to the case.

Another customer was waiting at the counter. She wore a heavy cable knit sweater over a shirt stretched over her middle-aged spread. Dark circles under her eyes suggested she was exhausted. Dena took two boxes to the register and let out a big sigh. “Thanks for waiting, Marta. If I stay this busy, I’m gonna have to hire some help.”

“That’s a good problem to have, isn’t it?” the woman asked, but she didn’t sound happy about it.

“That it is.” Dena rang up both of the customers. The woman took her box to one of the few small tables in the back, and the man bustled out of the shop so fast, I was surprised the door didn’t hit him on his rear.

“Rose! How’re you doin’?” Dena asked as I walked up to the counter, occupying the space they had just left.

I perused the glass case. “If you have any of your strawberry cupcakes left, I’ll be great.”

“It’s your lucky day. There are two of ’em.”

“I want them both. And a chocolate caramel one too. And a piece of apple pie.”

Dena laughed. “I hope you’re not eating all this yourself, or you’re gonna have to do some serious workouts.”

I grinned. “The cupcakes are for Neely Kate and the pie’s for Mason. So if you could box them up separately…”

“Not a problem,” she said, grabbing a box for the cupcakes.

“So, business is good, huh?” I asked. “Every time I come in, you just get busier.” It wasn’t hard to figure out why. In addition to selling food that was actually good, Dena’s bakery had a cozy atmosphere. While it was small, it had lots of charm—from the soft pastel swirls painted on the white walls like decorator frosting to the kitschy ceramic cookie jars lined up on the shelf behind the counter. The interior of Ima Jean’s shop looked about as ancient as her baked goods tasted.

“Most of my customers are under the age of forty-five.” She shrugged. “Everyone over that age still goes to Ima Jean’s. I think they’re afraid not to. I’ve had a couple of people tell me they came here the first time because she was so rude to them, but they keep coming back because the food’s better than hers.”

“I’m not surprised about either part of that statement.” I’d had more than my share of tongue-lashings from Ima Jean both in the bakery and out. Most of the town had tolerated her rudeness because they didn’t have a choice, and I suspected the ones who continued to go to her shop only did so because they hated change. That, or they were afraid of her.

Dena folded the lid of the cupcake box and tucked it in. “Momma says she wasn’t always like this. She used to be the sweetest woman in town.”

“Really?” I tried to hide my surprise. I’d always suspected some of her crankiness came from being older, kind of like Miss Mildred, my former neighbor. Even though she owned a bakery, I never once suspected she’d ever been sweet.

“My momma says she changed after her husband’s business went under about twenty-five years ago.”

“I thought her husband died about twenty-five years ago.”

She leaned over the top of the case. “Rumor has it he committed suicide after losing the business.”

“Oh dear.” That was bound to make someone cranky, and I felt a little bad for thinking ill of Ima Jean.

Dena started to box up Mason’s pie. “Momma says it was a huge scandal. He was caught havin’ an affair, then there was a mysterious fire at his warehouse. For some reason, he announced he wasn’t gonna rebuild and a week or so later he hung himself in his basement.”

I gasped, my hand resting at the base of my throat. “Oh, my goodness! That’s horrible.”

She shook her head, a knowing look in her eyes. “Momma says she was never the same.”

I couldn’t say I blamed her. I couldn’t even imagine living through something like that.

Dena looked behind me and I glanced over my shoulder to see Marta shooting me a glare, although for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why. Maybe she didn’t like that we were gossiping. I noticed there was another, younger girl in the seating area too, but she seemed to be much more focused on her cell phone than our conversation.

As soon as she finished fussing with the boxes, Dena rang up my order. I dug the spare change out of my purse and handed it over to her, suddenly wondering how I was going to pay for Neely Kate’s hair appointment. I’d never been this broke before, and though I knew it was temporary, it scared the bejiggers out of me. I wondered if I should get my own part-time job to help fill my pockets for the next month or two.