Dairy-Free Death

by P. D. Workman

  Vic wrinkled her nose. “I don’t care about age, so why should he?”

  Erin shrugged. “It matters to some people. Or it might not be age. It might just be that he doesn’t feel like the two of you click. That he’s not attracted to you that way.”

  Vic busied herself attaching labels to the different products in the display case.

  “Mrs. Potter was asking about the Founder’s Day Fair. About what we’re going to bring.”

  Erin leaned on the counter and rubbed her temples.

  “Yes. I’ll make a list. I’m thinking… some muffins, chocolate chip cookies, some loaves of quick bread, and some cheese buns. What do you think? Does that sound pretty good? Are people going to want other things?”

  “Well, it’s a country fair, so you probably want a few pies too. Tarts, maybe. And there’s going to be a Jam Lady booth, so maybe you should see if they want some plain bread for people to sample the jams.”

  “Who’s in charge of it?” Erin demanded, her pulse quickening.

  Vic smiled. “The General Store is going to be managing it.”

  “Dang.”

  “I think it’s Mary Lou, don’t you? She’s the person who’s handling all of the sales and distribution. She’s the only one who knows where they’re coming from.”

  “She swore it’s not her.”

  “She’s lying.”

  Erin shook her head slowly. “No… I don’t think so. I don’t think she was lying.”

  Vic squinted at Erin thoughtfully. “Hm. But she knows who it is. It can’t be that hard to find out.”

  Erin laughed. “Well, you let me know when you find out.”

  Vic shrugged. “I bet I can.”

  “This town is sort of weird,” Erin said, heading over to the door to flip over the sign and open up. “There’s all of this gossip, and it seems like everybody knows everything about everyone else. Like there’s no way you could keep a secret around here.”

  “Yeah.” Vic’s tone was bitter. Erin realized she was going to have to be a lot more careful not to hit Vic’s sore spots. The girl was obviously feeling vulnerable.

  “But then there are these secrets that everyone is keeping.”

  “Like who the Jam Lady is?”

  “No, I mean about things like Angela’s family. Her husband disappearing and no one ever knowing what happened to him. I don’t think… I don’t see how he could have disappeared without a trace, and Trenton too. Someone must have known something. But they’ve buried it. And everyone acted like Angela was an upstanding member of the church and of the community… when everyone was scared of her. She was mean and nasty to everyone, including her own kids, but when I moved here, everyone acted all loyal to her, like she was one of their best friends. And then after she died, everything else started coming out.”

  “She was a good Christian lady,” Vic summed up, “except she wasn’t very good and Christian after all.”

  “I guess. And Gema too. She was so determined to keep everyone thinking she had followed all of the teachings of her church when she hadn’t. But protecting the lie was more important than actually aligning herself to the teachings of the church.”

  “People are more concerned about outer appearances than what’s on the inside.”

  “Yes.” Vic had put her finger on it. “That’s it exactly. What’s outside has become the most important thing. Not what’s inside.”

  She opened the door, and the day’s first customers streamed in.

  Erin took a couple of trays of goodies over to the Book Nook for the Book Club.

  “I’ve got cookies, brownies, some tartlets, and mini-muffins.” She showed the tray to Naomi.

  “That should keep everyone happy for a while.” Naomi smiled. “Everyone sure enjoys your goodies on Book Club day. It’s my best day for sales every week.”

  “Good to hear it!” Erin took a look around. “What are you reading today?”

  “Digging Up Your Roots.”

  “Gardening?”

  “Family history,” Naomi laughed. “A lot of the ladies around here are interested in genealogy and the history of the area.”

  “That’s funny; I’ve been going through a bunch of Clementine’s genealogical records. She has all of these big books, and then fat research files full of all of the backup for what’s on the family trees. It’s just massive. When I think of the hours that she must have spent on it…!”

  “I remember her working on that,” Naomi agreed. “She was very interested in researching family history. She said it helped her to feel grounded. Knowing where she came from.”

  Erin nodded.

  “Maybe you could bring some of her work around as an example. Except… I suppose you’re not going to be going home before Book Club. You still have a few hours to put in at the bakery.”

  “Yeah. Sorry, I should have asked what you were doing this week. I could have brought stuff with me this morning.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I never thought to ask, even though I knew how much Clementine was into it. I’d love to see some of it sometime, though. Just whenever you have a few minutes. I love to read history about the area. If you rely on oral history, all of the gossip and ghost stories, you don’t really get a good picture of how this area grew up. But reading some of those original sources… there’s some really interesting stuff. And it all intertwines, all of the old families in the area.”

  “You know…” Erin considered how much she wanted to share about her research. “I’ve been trying to find out some details of my parents’ deaths. Clementine has the dates on the genealogical records that she compiled, but they don’t match what I remembered. I wanted to find her source documentation. But so far… I haven’t been able to lay my hands on it. It looks like she didn’t start on the genealogy until after she retired, and my parents died ten years before that.”

  “Hmm.” Naomi considered. “Well, you could try going to the library and looking at the archived newspapers for that period. They’ve kept a lot of stuff.”

  “That’s a good idea. I’ll have to do that… sometime when I can get some time off during library hours.”

  “That’s the trouble with running your own business. You’re always busy, and it’s hard to get to banks and other businesses that run the same hours as you do. It’s a pain.” But Naomi’s voice was cheerful. The inconvenience obviously didn’t bother her that much.

  “Yeah. I’ll have to see when I can get over there. Maybe I’ll sneak over during my lunch one of these days.”

  “Sure. That would work.”

  Erin headed for the door.

  “What about her journals?” Naomi asked.

  “Hmm?” Erin looked back. “Journals?”

  “Didn’t your aunt keep a journal? Those types tend to be record keepers. She seems like the type, especially if she was interested in family history.”

  “Uh…” Erin thought about it. She hadn’t fully explored Clementine’s room, which was now Vic’s, or the sewing room where the genealogical books and files had been stored. Either one of them could have held stacks of journals. Thinking about it, she thought she might have seen them in the sewing room closet at one point. But since she hadn’t been looking for them, she hadn’t paid any attention or registered their location. “Yes. I think she did.”

  “See if you can find her journal for the time period when your parents died. She’s bound to have written about it when it happened. Or as soon as she found out about it. She might have even kept a copy of the obituaries glued into her journal.”

  “Great idea! I am definitely going to look.”

  Naomi gave her a broad smile. “Great! Let me know how it goes. And any time you want to bring some of Clementine’s books by… I’d love to sneak a peek.”

  “Sure, I’ll do that.”

  Erin popped out of the Book Nook to go back to the bakery, and nearly collided with Officer Piper. She stumbled, trying to stop herself from tripping over K9, and Terry reached out his h
and to grab her arm and steady her.

  “Careful there, Miss Price.”

  Erin raised her brows. “Are we back to Miss Price? How did that happen?”

  He held her gaze for a moment, then looked away. He looked down at K9 and scratched his ears. “Right. Erin, I mean.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  She took in his demeanor. In spite of the fact that he had caught her by the arm, he didn’t linger, letting her go immediately. He didn’t seem to want to look at her face or take the opportunity to chat like he usually did.

  “Terry?”

  He took a breath and looked toward her. But not right at her. She could tell that he was focused somewhere beyond her right ear, rather than at her face.

  “Yes. Everything is fine. But I’m on duty, afraid I have to focus on my work.”

  “Oh. Sure. Of course. So, you didn’t want to come in for anything?”

  “No. Not today. Sorry.”

  K9 whined, making a little movement toward Auntie Clem’s. But Terry caught hold of his collar and pulled him back firmly. “Work to do,” he repeated to the dog.

  K9 tried to nose at Erin. She reached out to pat him, then changed her mind. He was on duty. A working dog. And she knew enough to leave a working dog alone. Just let him do his job.

  “Okay. Maybe I’ll see you after work sometime this week. You’ve been busy the last few days.”

  “Yes. I have.” He made no promise to go by to visit her, and his dimple did not make an appearance as he spoke to her.

  Erin nodded and turned away from him. She went back into her shop and focused on her work.

  Both Erin and Vic were more subdued than usual as they cleaned up the bakery and headed for home. While Vic had avoided some of the town’s curiosity about her gender identity by lying low the first day, people were persistent, and there had been a lot of looks, comments, and questions throughout the day. Some of them thought that they were clever in the way they posed their questions or made their comments, but it was pretty obvious to Erin and Vic what they were talking about. Erin sent Vic into the kitchen or storeroom several times to complete jobs Erin didn’t need her to do, at those times when Vic started to get red or teary-eyed and needed a short reprieve from being on display out front. Vic had not once argued or expressed irritation at being sent back and forth.

  Erin had been fussing around about Terry most of the afternoon. She had mentioned his distracted behavior to Vic, but the girl had no patience to worry about anyone else’s problems.

  “He’s just got other things on his mind,” she told Erin. “You know he likes you. He just has something else he needs to do. He’ll probably stop by the house tonight.”

  “There aren’t any big new cases that he needs to put extra hours in on,” Erin pointed out. “If Trenton died by accidental exposure to soy, then there’s nothing for him to investigate around Trenton’s death. And there haven’t been any big robberies or drug deals or anything like that.”

  “Nothing that has made the papers,” Vic said. “You don’t know what’s going on because you can’t ask him and he can’t tell you.”

  Erin loaded some premixed muffin batters into the fridge for the morning. “Do you think I should call Melissa? She might know something.”

  “No. You should just stay out of it. If he said he’s been busy with work, then he’s been busy with work. He does have things to do other than flirt with you.”

  Erin felt her cheeks flush. Vic always made the two of them sound like lovesick teenagers. When all Terry and Erin did was talk. It wasn’t like they got all gooey with each other. Erin still wasn’t one hundred percent sure what his feelings toward her were.

  Especially when he stopped talking to her. Because of work.

  “I guess… we’ll just have a quiet night, then,” Erin said.

  “Yeah. Probably a good thing. We’re both still trying to catch up on sleep.”

  Vic was quiet in the car on the way home. Erin didn’t know what else to say to her. She decided that Vic just needed some quiet time to think for herself, and didn’t try to start another conversation.

  At least Orange Blossom was happy to see her. Erin picked up the orange furball and held him up to her face. He purred like a tiger and rubbed the top of his head against her cheek. He started to knead her with his paws, and Erin ignored the sharp pricks of his claws and just enjoyed his attentions.

  She heated up a couple of servings of leftover lasagna and poured bottle dressing over a bag of premixed salad for their supper. Neither of them had much to say, and they just headed their different directions after finishing the meal.

  Chapter Fifteen

  ERIN STARTED IN THE sewing room. She looked through the desk that held the genealogical records. No journals there. She checked through the closet and the various storage boxes and other nooks and crannies, but couldn’t find them there. She hesitated about bothering Vic with a search of Clementine’s room. Vic usually spent time in the living room after supper, but she had gone to her room and shut the door. Erin stood in the hallway for a moment looking at the door, trying to decide whether to bother her. Then she turned to go up to the attic. The door opened and Vic looked at her.

  “What did you want?”

  “Sorry, I didn’t want to bother you…”

  “No, it’s fine. What is it?”

  “I’m trying to find Clementine’s old journals. If she had any. Have you seen anything in her room?”

  “Uh, yeah.” Vic opened the door the rest of the way for Erin to enter. The room was in need of a good airing-out. The bed was rumpled but had been made. There were clothes hung over the furniture, but nothing was scattered on the floors. While it wasn’t the tidiest room, it certainly had nothing on some of the teenager rooms Erin had seen growing up. Vic ran her fingers through her silky blond hair, looking around. “Under the bed, I saw some boxes there. And maybe in the closet too.”

  Erin knelt down on the floor and lifted up the bed skirt to look. She stirred up dust that made her nose tickle, and she held her nose, trying not to sneeze. Orange Blossom wandered into the room and started making inquisitive noises, wanting to know what everyone was up to without him. Erin dragged a few heavy boxes out from under the bed. Diaries. The boxes were not dated, so she had to open up each of the small, hardcover books to have a look at the dates that they covered.

  “These are all too recent,” she said, after looking through a few books in each box.

  “What year are you looking for?” Vic asked, bending over to look at some boxes in the closet.

  “Back before you were born.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  Vic started going through the boxes in the closet, while Erin shuffled around the boxes under the bed, looking at some of them more than once thinking that she had missed one.

  “Does she have journals from when you used to come here?” Vic asked, flipping through books.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t really stay here, so I don’t know what she did. I would just spend the day with her in the shop. It was a tea shop then.”

  “Right.”

  Erin shoved the journal boxes back under the bed. “These are all too recent. Are you having any luck over there?”

  “Yeah. Not bad.” Vic pointed to a couple that she had pulled out of the closet. “Those ones are the oldest I’ve found so far. Maybe not as old as you’re looking for…”

  Erin opened a few and started to flip through them. She looked at the dates. She would have been eight or nine. But Clementine went through several journals a year, and each box held about twenty of them. She sat down on the bed and started pulling out stacks of journals.

  “This looks good. I think maybe this is the right one.”

  Vic put her hands into her kangaroo-pouch hoodie. “What exactly are you looking for?”

  Erin wasn’t sure how much she wanted to reveal. It was private, close to her heart. The death of her parents was a wound that had never healed but had continued to fes
ter throughout her childhood, and even into her adult life. She didn’t spend as much time obsessing over it as she had when she was younger, but it was still the biggest thing that had ever happened in her life.

  “Um… just family records when I was younger. Things that I was too young to remember about.”

  “Like family reunions? That kind of thing?”

  Erin hesitated, then nodded. Orange Blossom jumped up on the bed and started to nose through the dusty books with interest, pushing them around. Erin grabbed at a small pile before it could fall off the bed. “I think I’d better take these upstairs. Thanks for your help.”

  “Sure, no problem,” Vic agreed. “It is your house.”

  “It’s yours too, and this is your room. I don’t want to infringe on your privacy.”

  “I probably won’t be here for much longer.”

  Erin looked up. “Are you going out? I thought you were tired.”

  “No, I mean… I should find my own place. I’m working now, so I should see what I can find that is within my means. Get out on my own.”

  “Oh.” Erin stared at Vic. It had never occurred to her that Vic would be striking out on her own so soon. They had a good relationship. They had a routine that worked. They didn’t smother each other, even though they lived and worked the same place. “I didn’t know you were thinking about it. I’m happy having you live here.”

  Vic didn’t look convinced.

  “I’m glad to have someone else here, so I’m not just kicking around on my own. It’s nice, having someone to share the space with. And we get along.” Then it occurred to her. “Is it because of Willie? Because you don’t like feeling like we’re…” Erin struggled to put it into words without sounding silly. “I don’t know. Competing.”

  “It’s not Willie. Not just that. I just think… it would be better for you if you had your own place. And I’m old enough. I should be more independent.”

  Erin slotted all of the diaries back into the box. “Then who is going to make lasagna for me?”