by Kathryn Lin
Cheesecake sales were doing extremely well—I wasn’t rolling in dough yet, but we were getting enough orders for a delivery truck to stop by and pick up orders every day. Even though I wasn’t making a fortune, the extra income was enough to cover Vi’s tuition at Cranbrook without forcing me to take out money from my savings.
That was all that mattered.
I went back into the café kitchen where Carly was glazing a freshly fried batch of cruller donuts.
A tinkle of bells from the front dining room announced that new customers had come in.
It was Maude, Trixie, and Helen. I tracked the tops of their bluish gray heads as they looked around the room for a free table.
A young man was already sitting at their usual table by the front window, but they somehow talked him into giving up his seat and moving over to another table. I wanted to say that he moved out of respect for three ladies who looked like they could be his grandma. The way he glanced over his shoulder at them with fear in his eyes indicated otherwise. I had the suspicion that the old ladies used their power as the gatekeepers of gossip in Grand Arbor to pressure him into obeying him. For three unassuming looking retired women, they could make or break somebody’s reputation in this town with a single utterance.
For this reason, I always treated them with respect and politeness, but tried to keep them at an arm’s length.
“Good morning, ladies. What can I get you today?”
“Coffee for all of us, Olivia.” Trixie stretched her long neck and craned her head to look around me at the display counter at the front of the café. “Do you have any strawberry cheesecake today?”
“You’re in luck, ladies. I made a fresh batch last night. A slice for each of you then?”
They nodded in agreement and pulled out their crafting supplies from their purses. They were still working on their cross stitch projects today. Last month they gathered at the café every day with their balls of yarn and knitting needles. I hoped that when Carly and I were both old and gray that we would still be close enough that we would coordinate our crafting projects.
“Did you talk to Mrs. Banks yet?” Trixie asked when I arrived with their order.
“No I haven’t. I don’t even know her.”
All three of them gave a long sigh. I stood there like I had been called upon to stand at the front of the class by the teacher, only I hadn’t read the chapter for the day’s lesson nor did I finish my homework.
Trixie was the first to speak. “Didn’t you see the police cars at her house last night?”
I did, but I figured that it was none of my business. I should have known that Trixie Roterman would latch on to such an unusual sighting of police cars in our usually quiet neighborhood. Trixie lived across the street from me and nothing happened on our street without Trixie watching from behind her window curtains. I often thought that the police should hire her as our neighborhood patrol officer.
“She’s the wife of the man in the park. You live one door down from her! Honestly, Olivia.” Maude tutted at me and rolled her eyes. She poured a couple drops of cream into her coffee and stirred it, clinking her spoon against the ceramic cup. “How else are we going to find out who killed him?”
“We?” My eyebrows must have shot up to my hairline. Since when were Maude, Trixie, Helen, and myself a crime solving team?
“Don’t look so shocked, dear.” Helen sipped at her coffee which was black with just a spoon of sugar before she continued. “I heard from Marta Abramowicz who heard from Shelley Williams whose sister’s son-in-law’s cousin works as a Lieutenant at the police station that Austin is the main suspect.”
My head spun as I tried to follow the connection between Marta to whoever it was at the police station. I shook my head and gave up. “Wait…do you mean Austin at the hardware store?”
I only knew Austin as an acquaintance. Obviously, we’d meet in passing as we both ran family owned businesses on Main Street. He graduated from high school a couple years ahead of me and from time to time, he’d come in to the café during his lunch breaks from his family’s hardware store. Austin was always polite and nice, if a bit quiet. Though he seemed bitter about the new mall stealing business away from his store, I couldn’t picture him killing someone violently in a murderous rage. I shuddered as my mind conjured up an image of the body in the park.
I told the ladies about what Austin said to me after Edward Banks left the café.
“Mm hm. Still, I can’t imagine Austin killing someone. The boy’s a bit dense, but harmless,” Trixie said.
“I used to babysit him and his brother when they were tots. He doesn’t have a mean bone in his body,” Maude added.
“What’s going on?” Carly stepped beside me with a serving tray in her hands.
The ladies told her about the police’s suspicions about Austin.
“That’s ridiculous,” Carly said, “I’ve never even seen Austin yell at someone, much less stab them with an ice pick.”
My best friend dated Austin’s little brother for three months while we were all sophomores at Grand Arbor High.
“You see! The police have got the wrong person again!” Maude exclaimed. She then stared straight at me as if daring me to disagree. “You found the real killer last time when that useless detective was too busy examining his own butt. You are going to help, aren’t you?”
Was I going to? I didn’t want to see Austin go to jail for something he didn’t do, but I already had my hands full juggling the café, the online business, Vi’s Cranbrook interview, and whatever was going on with Ben and me.
I looked over at Carly and her expectant expression mirrored the three old ladies’. I knew a losing battle when I saw it and when I should give in.
I wilted under their gazes and sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Chapter 6
When I pulled up onto my driveway after work, a series of loud bangs assaulted my ears. I looked around for the source of the noise and it seemed to be coming from my next door neighbor’s garage.
As I still hadn’t introduced myself to my neighbor in the last couple of months, now seemed like the perfect time.
The garage door was open and the man inside was bent over a large piece of wood on a workbench with his back toward me. Various saws, awls, and other sharp implements and tools were hung on the walls of the garage.
“Hello?” I shouted. The clang of a hammer slamming a chisel muffled the sound of my voice. He continued to hammer away.
I walked up until I was behind him and tapped his shoulder. “Hello?” I repeated.
He startled and turned around with the sharp chisel in his hand and pointed it like he was going to lunge and plunge it into me.
“Whoa!” I stepped back with both of my hands up as if I was trying to calm an angry dog.
“What do you want?” He came closer to me with the chisel still in his hand.
“Uh,” maybe coming over here was a bad idea, but it was too late so I continued, “I’m Olivia, I live next door—can you put that down please?” I gestured at the sharp tool in his hand.
“Oh! Of course. I’m sorry about that. Woodworking is a great way to relieve stress, you know.” He set it down on the workbench and wiped his hand on his pants. “Pat and Barb’s daughter, right?” His face softened and he extended a hand toward me. “I’m Jeremy. I’m so sorry about your parents. They were always so kind and welcoming.” He looked at me with pity.
“Thank you. Their death was so unexpected…Anyway, I just came by to introduce myself.”
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” cried out a shrill voice behind me.
I turned around to see a plump woman in a pastel pink dress and pearl earrings stride up towards us. Her mousy brown hair had the texture of a brillo pad as was usual with people who permed their hair for too many years. Even though I referred to myself as vertically challenged, I noticed that the top of her head barely came up to my nose even though she was in kitten heels.
&nbs
p; “I’m having a civil conversation with my neighbor, Mrs. Banks,” Jeremy answered with more than a dash of snark.
“You know very well what I’m talking about. I’m calling the police if you don’t stop making that racket. So this was the wife of the victim.
“You may be the queen of your house and the boss of your husband, but you have no authority here. I’m perfectly within my rights and within the noise ordinances of the township. There’s still,” he brought up his arm and glanced at his watch, “four more hours before designated quiet hours begin. I suggest you get some earplugs if you’re so sensitive. At least your husband finally got the peace and quiet he wanted so much.”
“You—” Her face was so red that it was almost purple at this point. I was afraid she was going to explode or have a heart attack right here on Jeremy’s driveway. “Ugh!”
She spun on her heels and stormed down the driveway away from us.
Jeremy flipped her off and went back to his work bench.
The old ladies’ words rang in my head and I saw my opportunity to find out more about the victim walking away from me.
“Wait!” I ran after her and thankfully she stopped. “I’m Olivia Faulkner. I live next door,” I said while I panted to catch my breath.
She looked at me like I was out of my mind so I rushed to the point. “I’m the one who found your husband’s body in the park. He was in my café right before he died.”
That seemed to soften her steely exterior a little. “Edward was always fond of your donuts—four raspberry filled, four chocolate glazed, and four powdered donuts. He ordered the same thing for over twenty years.”
She looked away for a moment, her eyes glassy and wet, before she composed herself. “I’m Elizabeth, by the way. I apologize for the way I acted earlier, but that man…”
I responded politely—why, no, I hadn’t noticed you have a meltdown—and waited for her to elaborate about the apparent bad blood between her and Jeremy, but an explanation never came.
“Would you like to come in for coffee? I’m sure it won’t be as good as what you serve at the café—”
“I’d love to!” Reign it in, Olivia, I warned myself. I didn’t want to arouse her suspicions by seeming too eager to get into her house.
The inside of the Banks’s house was uncluttered and classic. Though we lived on the same street, their house was much larger than mine, almost palatial in comparison. The décor gave nothing away about the inhabitants of house except that they were traditional and probably had a maid or two.
Elizabeth led me into the sitting room. Family photos lined the mantle. It didn’t look like they had any kids. Elizabeth walked over to a well-stocked bar.
“Would you like something to drink?”
“Oh, just water, thank you.”
“We’re out of ice, I’m afraid.”
“That’s alright.”
She filled a glass with water—bottled and from some fancy spring in France, not from the tap. For herself, she poured a generous two fingers of whiskey.
I accepted the drink and sat down after her.
“I don’t mean to intrude, but what happened outside?”
Elizabeth took a long sip from her glass before she answered. “I guess he’s mad about what happened last month. My Edward’s very busy, you see, so when he finally gets a chance to come home he wants it to be peaceful and quiet.” She sipped again. “That horrible little man next door used to own two of the meanest, most out of control dogs. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were pit bulls. They would bark nonstop all day and all night. One day my husband finally had enough.”
“What happened?” I asked as I leaned in toward her.
“We have an Irish wolfhound ourselves, Fiona, who had gotten her leg caught on one of the loose metal gate posts. My husband called animal control and told them that the dogs next door had gotten out and attacked our dog in our yard. The city came and took away those horrible dogs that day.”
“Really? How clever!” I exclaimed even while her actions disgusted me. Poor Jeremy. Pets were a part of the family, and to have them seized for doing nothing wrong was a horrible thought. I didn’t even want to think about whether they were put down or not once they were taken to the pound.
If someone did something to my Fox, I wouldn’t know what I would do. Would I be angry enough to kill?
“Ever since then, Jeremy’s been doing everything he can to annoy us—”
She broke off as she realized that she would be the only one annoyed by the noise next door now that her husband was dead.
“I can’t help but think that if I had gone running with him that morning instead of going to the spa…I could have stopped it.”
“Do you think it was someone your husband knew?”
“I don’t know...Edward was ruthless in how he handled his business, but his partner, Robert, was the one who usually closed the difficult deals. He never really talked about work with me, but I know Edward was more of the brains behind the scenes. The police said it was a mugging. Do you think it was something else?”
“Oh, no, I’m sure the police are right.” I felt so guilty for making her worry that someone premeditated the murder of her husband. “It’s just so unusual, to be attacked in the middle of the morning in the park without any witnesses.”
Jeremy was still working in his garage when I walked back to my house. “Be careful,” he called out to me.
That caught my interest so I walked toward him. “What do you mean?”
“The Banks are not good people. Just watch your back when you’re with her.”
“Is this about what they did to your dogs? I’m so sorry. That never should have happened.”
“Bowie and Ziggy were good dogs. They never hurt or bothered anyone. They were senior dogs, you know.”
I nodded sympathetically.
“Nobody else wanted to adopt two older dogs, but I could see that I wasn’t going to save them. They were going to save me.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, but he only shook his head sadly.
“Just be careful, Olivia.”
Chapter 7
My mind wandered as I grated a block of sharp cheddar cheese and waited for the pot of macaroni on the stove to cook. Despite wanting to stay out of this case, I couldn’t but think about what I learned today.
Edward Banks was not a kind man. Maybe he did not deserve to die so violently, but he certainly made more than his fair share of enemies. If what Elizabeth told me was true, the people he slighted in his business dealings would have plenty of reasons—millions of them, even—to get rid of Edward.
Our mutual neighbor also had a good reason to exact revenge on the businessman. I just couldn’t wrap my mind around hating someone so much that I would make up a vicious lie to get someone’s dogs taken away.
“What’s for dinner, Mom?”
Vi’s voice brought me out of my musings back to the task at hand.
“Oh shoot!” I rushed over to the stove and turned off the burner before the pot of pasta turned to mush.
“Macaroni and cheese,” I replied as I removed a carton of milk from the fridge.
“Sounds delish.” Her cellphone rang and she left the kitchen to take the call. I was glad to see that Vi was finally making friends in Grand Arbor after a rough start.
At the last minute I remembered that I still hadn’t drained the extra water from the macaroni so I set down the container of milk on the island counter.
I had just dumped all the excess water and returned the pot to the stove when I turned around to see Fox up on the top of the kitchen island.
“Don’t you dare—” Before I could finish the sentence, she had reached out a cheeky paw and shoved the milk. As if in slow motion, the carton plopped onto the counter and the white liquid fell in a waterfall over the edge of the counter onto the floor.
“No!” I dashed over to the grabbed the milk carton and set it upright, but it was no use. All of the milk was on the floor ex
cept for a couple of drops.
“Meow?” Fox had the nerve to look at me with a ‘did I do that’ expression before jumping down to the floor to lick at the spilled milk.
“Oh you!” I wanted to swat at her naughty butt with the kitchen towel, but instead I wiped up the milk on the counter. I looked at the pile of cheese and the naked pasta in the pot. Seeing as that was the last bit of milk we had in the house, I had nothing to use to bind the cheese into a sauce. Dinner was officially canceled.
Vi came in after her phone call finished and stopped short. “What happened?”
“It’s a nice night tonight, let’s go out for pizza instead.”
Gino’s Pizzeria was just as I remembered it from when I was little, from the sticky plastic table cloths, to the greasy sent of fried tomatoes and cheese in the air, to the jars of powdered cheese and pepper flakes on the tables.
The only difference—it was deathly quiet.
Vi and I were the only customers in Grand Arbor’s favorite Main Street restaurant.
We were going over what we needed to prepare for Vi’s Cranbrook interview in two weeks when Gino Jr. came out with our order.
“Here we are, ladies. Half cheese, half pepperoni with peppers. Careful, it’s hot,” Gino said as he placed our pizza and plates on our table.
“What’s going on, Gino? Where is everybody?”
He sighed and slung the white kitchen towel in his hand over his shoulder. “It’s that new mall. They have an all you can eat pizza and pasta buffet with freshly made gelato.” He shrugged helplessly. “I can’t compete with that!”
“What’s this new mall that everybody’s talking about?” I asked him.
Seeing as we were the only table in the restaurant, Gino pulled up a chair from the table next to us and sat down. “The mall was built last year, before you came back to town, Olivia. They must have bribed the township council or something to get permission to build it. The CEO played it up all nice in the news last year—that it was going to create new jobs and raise property values. What a load of garbage. All that’s happened is it’s destroyed Main Street and stolen all of our customers.”
