by Emmie Lyn
“You don’t say. How lucky, right, Greg?” She turned to the tall, dark-haired handsome man next to her. “This is my husband. We met in college. One of those love at first sight moments that led to a happily ever after romance. Just like in a novel, right Greg?”
He nodded and said, “Yes, dear.” He smiled at me, but his distracted look made me wonder if he shared Carla’s romantic fairytale or had even heard her ramblings.
“I’ll have a plain vanilla shake. Can you make it with low-fat yogurt?” she asked.
“Sure. And you, Greg?”
“Oh, nothing for me.” His gaze wandered around the shop absent-mindedly. I guessed he’d rather be anywhere but here.
He pulled out his wallet to pay, but Carla playfully slapped his hand. “Violet’s treating, dear. Now, put your wallet away.” She wandered off to sit with Violet and Laura at one of the tables, leaving Greg standing awkwardly at the counter.
I wondered if Carla ordered him around like this all the time because his response was more robotic than animated.
“I changed my mind,” he said. “I’ll have that smoothie with coffee in it.”
“The coffee, oat, and maple smoothie?”
“Yeah, sure. And, I’ll pay for mine,” he said leaving no room for an argument, which I had no intention of giving him. He handed me a ten. “I think it was a big mistake coming here this weekend with these women. They’re already driving me crazy.”
“They seem like a nice bunch,” I said, not sure how else to respond.
“That’s because you don’t know them. Since Violet is older than the other roommates, she likes to play mother to them.”
I handed him his change, but he waved me off. “Keep it.” He moseyed into the greenhouse while the three women sat and chatted.
“Here you go, ladies,” I said delivering their shakes to their table. “It’s a shame Ginger hasn’t shown up yet.”
Laura rolled her eyes. “It’s just like Ginger to be all dramatic and then make her grand entrance. Violet let her know our plans so now it’s up to her. This weekend was her idea to begin with, and I plan to have a good time. With or without Ginger.” She dabbed a smear of green smoothie off her lip with a napkin.
Carla looked around in a bit of a panic. “Where’d Greg go? I should never have taken my eyes off him.”
“Oh, honey,” Laura covered Carla’s hand with her own. “Don’t worry about him so much. Give him some space. And,” she leaned closer to Carla, “stop with all the nagging.”
Carla’s spine stiffened “Nagging? I don’t nag,” she said with an unmistakable huffiness.
I sensed some trouble brewing between these old friends during this girl reunion weekend.
And where was Ginger?
7
The rest of opening day flew by in a blur. We blended shakes and served sweet tasty treats to the flood of customers that streamed into Shakes and Cakes.
Yes, a flood, which relieved my anxiety from the morning worries.
Every time Hitch walked by me, he whispered, “Ka-ching,” and gave me two thumbs up.
The orchids, tropical plants, potted herbs and colorful hanging baskets racked up brisk sales, too. And, the best part was the long list of interested people signing up to adopt one of our fur balls looking for their forever home.
All in all, the day was a success but… isn’t there always a but? I reminded myself. I couldn’t shake Ginger’s early morning visit, disappearance, lost pocketbook, and the hints of trouble in the college roommates’ weekend reunion.
Tilly served customers with friendly and appropriate conversation; Conrad chaperoned Jasper and the kittens, keeping sharp eyes on everyone going in and out of the greenhouse. By the end of our business day, the kittens were curled up in a kitty pile sleeping off all the excitement. Even Clawdia was back in her basket with her tail tucked around her nose.
“I’ll meet you at your house?” Tilly said as she blended herself a concoction with who knew what was in it.
“Sounds good,” I answered. The quiet after she left enveloped me like a soothing puff of warm scented air. I sank into one of the chairs at a round table, leaned back with my legs stretched out, and groaned. “It feels good to get off my feet, finally,” I said to Hitch who pulled up a chair opposite me and sank down heavily.
“I think we hit it out of the park today.” Beneath that enthusiasm, his eyes drooped with fatigue. “And I heard lots of customers say they plan to make this a regular stop in their day. And… the kittens. They are their own attraction.” He jiggled my foot with his. “Right?”
I tried to ignore that contact but it sent goosebumps along my skin. “Yeah, lots of interest but I’m not surprised. There isn’t anything much cuter than a soft kitty to cuddle… except a roly-poly puppy.”
Hitch’s eyes widened with what looked to be concern. “Is that next?”
I laughed at his shock. “No. At least I hope there isn’t a need.”
“Ready to go?” He stood up and held his hand out to me. His eyes had that special twinkle again that he’d lost after Ginger’s unexpected visit. My heart did a little flip when I put my hand in his and he wrapped his strong fingers around mine. Friends, I reminded myself. We are only friends.
I heaved a big sigh and said, “After I double-check the kittens and convince Jasper that her job is done for the day, I’ll be so ready for a hot bath and a glass of something to celebrate making it through our first day.”
Hitch chuckled. “Jasper really takes that job seriously, doesn’t she? I noticed that she got plenty of hugs and pats today, too. Good thing she’s such a sweetheart.”
“Unless someone crosses her. Her first priority is to keep those kittens safe. I’m sure of it.”
We walked side by side into the greenhouse. Even with all the plant sales today, it barely made a dent in our tropical jungle atmosphere. Hitch had ordered that inventory well.
I gave a soft whistle. “Come on Jasper, time to head home.” She perked up her ears and wagged her bushy tail before she lumbered around the Kitty Castle from kitten to kitten, bestowing a final sniff and a bit of slobber on each one. “She’s making a final kitty count,” I told Hitch before leading the way outside.
“What do you mean?”
I jostled him with my elbow. “Just kidding.”
We strolled out into the late afternoon sunshine and my stomach dropped. The satisfied feeling from moments ago vanished like a burst soap bubble.
“What now?” I said as I watched a Pineville police cruiser pull in and stop only feet away from us.
Officer Walker unfolded himself from behind the wheel, stuck a toothpick in the corner of his mouth, and slammed his door closed. “Glad I caught both of you still here.”
I had no idea why he just showed up, but my instinct told me to head the conversation away from Hitch.
“Did Ginger Ross stop at the station to pick up her pocketbook?” I asked casually.
His brow furrowed. “Not yet. Why do you ask? Did she come back here looking for it?”
I noticed Walker giving Shakes and Cakes the once over. Did he think I was hiding Ms. Ross among the orchid plants or maybe the Kitty Castle?
I ignored his suspicious looks and said, “No, I haven’t seen her since this morning, but I gave her friend, Violet Burnham, the message that you had her purse at the police station. I assumed she’d follow through. Violet did tell you that Ginger is staying at the Bayside Bed and Breakfast, right?”
Walker shifted his toothpick to the other side of his mouth. Some kind of acknowledgment that he heard me, I guess. “Yeah,” he said, “I got that message from your neighbor… but there’s a problem. The people at the bed and breakfast haven’t seen hide nor hair of Ginger Ross except for her silver SUV in their lot. She never actually checked in and no one there saw Ms. Ross actually park her car. That’s what brings me back here.”
Walker paused and just stared at the two of us from behind his sunglasses. “From everything I’ve come up with, you were
the last ones to see her.” Mick let that last comment hang in the air as if he suspected we knew more than we’d told him. He leaned against his car, settling in for more than a quick visit. Not a good sign, but I wasn’t going to let him rattle me.
“I don’t know what to say, Mick,” I said, exuding innocence as I shrugged my shoulders and looked to Hitch, perplexed and questioning. “Ginger was here when we arrived this morning. She showed up completely out of the blue, and she left when we said we were busy.” I hoped this satisfied him but suspected it wouldn’t.
“Out of the blue?” Mick held up a cell phone. “I found this in her car and one of our tech guys figured out her password. There are a bunch of calls to you, Mr. Hitchner. Care to explain?”
I felt Hitch’s fingers squeeze my shoulder, but his voice remained calm. “There’s nothing to explain,” he said. “She did call me, but I didn’t answer her calls… or the texts that you’ve probably found, too.”
I didn’t know where this might be going.
Walker kept chewing on his toothpick, like the cat that ate the canary. Did he know more than he was telling I wondered?
“But why all the attempts to contact you?” he asked. “Violet said that Ginger was coming here this morning because she knew you’d be here. I find that to be a puzzling and interesting question. Especially now that she’s missing.”
I had to hand it to Hitch. His demeanor didn’t change. He remained as cool and calm as the cucumbers in our breakfast smoothies. “You’ll have to ask Ginger. I didn’t talk to her and I don’t know why she kept trying to contact me.” He stared back at Mick. The two of them in a stand-off. One digging for information, the other poker-faced.
“That’s what you told Chief Bullock this morning and unfortunately, we can’t ask Ginger Ross anything if we can’t find her.” Mick was caving, his voice loud now and filled with frustration. “So, I’m asking you again, and you can cooperate here or come to the station: Why was Ginger Ross trying so hard to get in touch with you, Ty Hitchner?”
Walker eased forward an inch or two, putting himself in Hitch’s face.
“I. Don’t. Know,” Hitch said through clenched teeth. “Ginger Ross does what she wants without input from me. I met her in New York when I was working there, but that’s the extent of my dealings with her.”
Walker’s color was rising, and his eyes got wider as he said, “That’s not what Violet Burnham told me. She said that you and Ginger had a relationship.” Mick’s lip twitched when he glanced at me. I’m sure he hoped that comment would upset me, but I knew how Mick liked to play games with people. He relished having the power to stick in a verbal knife and twist it.
“I wonder,” Hitch said, “if I told you that Violet Burnham is in a relationship with the Police Chief, would you believe that, too? There was no romance between Ginger and me regardless of what rumor you’ve heard. No romance and no relationship.”
I tried as hard as I could to keep my anger from boiling over. “Mick,” I said, “Violet told us that Ginger planned a weekend reunion with her college roommates. The four women—Violet, Ginger, Laura O’Brien, and Carla Singleton—are all here in town along with Carla’s husband, Greg. Have you asked them any questions?”
To my surprise, Mick pulled out a small notebook and scribbled something down. “Do you know where those women are staying? How I can find them?”
“Not a clue. Ask Violet.” What the heck had he been doing all day? I wondered.
Officer Walker nodded, tucked his notebook in his pocket, got back in his car, and drove off.
“That was weird.” I said. “What do you think is going on with Ginger? I don’t know about you, Hitch, but I’ve got a really bad feeling about this situation.”
Jasper pulled on her leash and headed for the Camaro. Was she done with opening day festivities? We followed behind and Hitch opened the door for us. As Jasper leaped into the back seat, he said, “Listen, Sunny, I know all this is upsetting but what Ginger does is completely out of our control. Let’s think about us. Okay? How does this sound? I’ll drop you and Jasper off at home, pick up a bottle of champagne that’s chilling in my fridge, and come back for a little celebration. We’ve earned it.”
I climbed into my seat and smiled up at him, thinking his plan sounded almost perfect. He walked around to his door and got in. “I’ve got a better idea,” I said. He quickly glanced in my direction while he drove out of the parking lot, a worried expression etched on his tired face. “Just go straight to your apartment. No need to drop me off first, that’s just a waste of time.”
He let out a deep belly laugh. “That’s a much better plan, Sunshine. Thanks.” His face broke into a wide grin and he patted my thigh.
“Thanks for what?”
“For being so smart and coming up with great ideas.”
Okay, I knew he was exaggerating but it still made me feel like a million bucks.
He pulled into the driveway of his apartment. “Want to come in or wait here? It’ll only take a minute to grab the champagne.”
“Put the windows down for Jasper and I’ll come in. She’s completely pooped, anyway, after her long day as Chief Kitty Nanny.” I reached over the seat and ruffled her ear. “Right?” She groaned but didn’t even open her eyes.
I followed Hitch up the porch steps to his apartment in a two-family house. I hadn’t seen the inside since he’d come back from New York. I guess you could say I was feeling curious about his bachelor pad.
“After you, Madam,” he said with an exaggerated and very bad stilted accent as he held his hand out for me to go inside first. “Ignore the mess, I wasn’t expecting company,” he added.
“What mess?” I said as I scanned his tidy living room.
He laughed. “See, it worked. You thought the place would be trashed so now you won’t even notice a few dust bunnies. I left the champagne in the kitchen. Be right back.” He walked away chuckling about his clever reverse psychology.
I slowly moved around the room. His comfortable furniture made for cozy seating, but what caught my attention were the orchid photographs hanging on his white walls. “Did you take these photographs, Hitch?” I called out to him.
I heard footsteps behind me and turned around to ask my question again, assuming he hadn’t heard me the first time. “Did—”
One look at his face gave me concern. His normal tan coloring had drained to a pasty white hue. “What’s wrong? Did someone steal your champagne?” I joked.
“Ginger’s in the kitchen.”
“What?” Now, it was my turn to panic. “She’s been hiding here?”
He shook his head. I couldn’t remember ever seeing Hitch at a loss for words.
“I think she broke in.”
“Well, tell her to leave.” I started to walk toward his kitchen. “I’ll tell her myself if you won’t.”
Hitch grabbed my arm, stopped me, and pulled me close. His hand trembled. “Don’t go in there, Sunny.”
“Why not, Hitch?” He was really scaring me with his tight grip.
“Ginger’s dead. She’s lying on the kitchen floor. Dead. I’m no expert but I think she may have been poisoned.”
8
I sank onto the nearest chair, my legs turned to jelly, “Dead? Poisoned?”
“I didn’t spend much time examining her, but I didn’t see any blood or obvious injury. It looked like she threw up a blueish mess that matched a spilled drink on the counter.”
I guess I must have looked confused and startled. This was all too much to process. “How do you even know this, Hitch?”
“During my security guard training,” he said. “I participated in a specialized workshop on unusual murder techniques used by killers. We learned how to diagnose symptoms, recognize odors, and were told how to respond in different situations. Unfortunately for Ginger, we arrived too late to help her.”
I couldn’t get my head wrapped around how this was even possible. How had Hitch’s work in New York caused him so much tr
ouble? First, when his previous boss was murdered, and now this woman following him here with her problems?
He stood in front of his window, like that would provide answers to this crazy situation. Then, he took out his phone. “I’m calling 9-1-1.”
I tuned out his conversation as my mind replayed the day’s events. At least, I told myself, there was no way that Hitch could be accused of murdering Ginger Ross. He’d been with me all day right up until he found her body. There were plenty of customers to vouch for his whereabouts if Officer Walker decided I’d say anything to protect Hitch.
Too many questions swirled in my brain. How did Ginger get inside Hitch’s house? Who followed her and why? Where was the killer now?
“She must have walked here,” Hitch said, reading my thoughts like he was so good at doing. He paced back and forth across the room, head down, and hands in his pockets. “Maybe there really was someone stalking her,” he muttered then stopped and looked at me. “One of those roommates in town for the reunion?”
“That makes some sense because who else could have known she was here in Pineville?” I said.
Someone knocked on the front door. “Hitch? Are you inside?”
“What’s Tilly doing here?” he said as he opened the door.
She entered without waiting for an invitation. “Did you two decide to ditch me and have a little celebration on your own?”
“Not exactly,” I said.
“What’s going on?” She looked from me then to Hitch. “You both look like this was the worst day of your lives instead of a smashing success at your grand opening. I mean, come on—what’s with the gloomy faces?”
“Hitch found Ginger in the kitchen,” seemed to be the easiest answer.
“Well, isn’t that a coincidence. I saw her walking in this direction after I left Shakes and Cakes. She was hustling right along not far from the Bayside Bed and Breakfast like she was late for an important meeting. It didn’t make sense why she was walking instead of driving that giant SUV. I even thought about stopping to give her a ride but,” Tilly chuckled, “that idea only lasted for a second and a half.”
