“She won’t be opening up The Bake Shoppe for a while. She’s still fighting over whether she can open it up on her own while Davis is in prison, when they are each only fifty-percent owners once the probate goes through.”
“She’ll be able to open it. It’s more valuable as an operating bakery than sitting there closed up. Uncle Davis really can’t win that argument.”
“I suppose.”
Thinking about Charley and Davis made Erin uneasy. She was happy to have her sister in Bald Eagle Falls so that she could get to know her. But Charley had some pretty rough edges and wasn’t the kind of person that Erin would have associated with normally. And she was determined to prove Davis’s involvement in Trenton’s death and get his half of the inheritance.
Erin added a couple more items to her list, and wiggled her toes, making Marshmallow shift and look up at her. “I think I’m going to head to bed.”
Vic lifted Orange Blossom from her lap to cuddle him and kiss the top of his head. “Yeah, me too,” she agreed. “Even though we can sleep in on a Sunday, my body just doesn’t get the message.”
Erin nodded. “See you tomorrow, then. Where’s Willie these days? Working out of town again?”
Vic stood up and put Orange Blossom down. “I don’t know. We decided to take a break for a while.”
Erin stared at her, mouth open. “You decided to take a break? From each other? What happened?”
But even as she said it, Erin knew. Things had not been the same since they had returned to Bald Eagle Falls after rescuing Charley and solving the murder she’d been wrongly accused of.
Vic sighed. Her mouth twisted into a grimace that she tried to hide. “I told him who I was. I didn’t keep that from him. But he didn’t tell me who he was. He knew our families were enemies, and he didn’t tell me.”
Willie had initially had a hard time with Vic being a transgender woman, but had eventually been able to get past it. But he hadn’t told her that he was a Dyson, the clan that had been feuding against the Vic’s family, the Jacksons, for generations.
“You told me once that you knew Willie had secrets, but you were willing to wait until he was ready to share them with you.”
“Yeah.” Vic considered. “I guess that’s one that I would have liked to have known up front. Other stuff from his past I could wait for, but he should have told me that. At least given me the chance to decide if I wanted to get involved in someone who’d fought against my family.”
It wasn’t just that Willie had been born a Dyson. Vic probably could have handled that. But he had been a soldier for them for five years, and that wasn’t so easy for her take.
“I’m sorry,” Erin said softly, shaking her head. “You should have told me. I just thought he was off working. I didn’t know the two of you were having trouble.”
“I wasn’t ready to talk about it. I’m still not ready. But you’re a friend. You should at least know.”
“Okay.” Erin looked down at her lists instead of staring at Vic and trying to analyze her. “I won’t ask about it. You just let me know when you’re ready.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
Vic bent down to give Orange Blossom one last scratch. Marshmallow got up and hopped over to her for a share of the attention, and Vic scratched the base of his long ear.
“All right, babies, time for bed. You guys be quiet for Erin and let her sleep.”
Orange Blossom followed Vic into the kitchen, yowling at her about how hungry he was, but she wasn’t fooled. She went out the back door and across the yard to her apartment over the garage. Erin heard her pause on her way out to arm the burglar alarm. Erin wasn’t sure she felt any more secure with the alarm set, since the last intruder had managed to disable it on entering. But it was just a precaution. There was no one after Erin. Not anymore, thanks to Orange Blossom and Vic’s marksmanship skills. It was a good thing she’d had so much practice shooting gophers and other critters when she was younger.
Erin had expected that Charley would jam out at the last minute and not show up for the ladies’ tea when church let out. She wasn’t an atheist, like Erin. She’d been raised Christian, but had obviously left those beliefs behind when she had left home to work with the Dyson clan, whose views were distinctly opposed to any of the teachings Erin knew of the Christian faith. Even if they went to funerals and to Easter and Christmas services, they really didn’t follow the teachings of Christ as Erin knew them.
But Charley showed up. She wasn’t in a dress like most of the church ladies would be, but she wasn’t in blue jeans either. She’d taken the time to find something appropriate, to put her hair, dark like Erin’s, back in a knot behind her neck, and to keep to a natural look with her makeup, just accenting her brown eyes and small mouth that Erin found so disconcerting to see on someone else’s face.
“I made it,” Charley declared. “I actually got myself out of bed early and got myself all dolled up for your friends.”
Erin couldn’t help looking at the clock on the wall. Early?
“Considering I’m usually going to bed when you’re getting up, that’s early for me,” Charley asserted.
“Yes, it is,” Erin agreed. “You’re here just in time, the others should be arriving soon.”
Mary Lou was the first to arrive. As usual, her short gray hair was perfectly coiffed and her neatly tailored skirt suit looked like it had been made just for her. She smiled and nodded at Charley. “I’m so glad you could make it, Miss Campbell.”
“Oh, no! Just call me Charley. No one calls me Miss Campbell.”
“Have a seat, Mary Lou,” Erin invited, gesturing toward the tables, all ready for the group of women. “How were your services today?”
“Very nice,” Mary Lou said. She chose her usual chair and sat down. She closed her eyes for an instant, looking tired. “Yes, it was a beautiful spring service. I always enjoy a talk that centers around renewal and new life.”
“Good.” Erin waited for Mary Lou to pick out her usual English Breakfast, and then poured the water from the waiting teapot for her.
Mary Lou nodded her thanks and stared off, distant.
“What kind of tea do you like?” Erin asked Charley.
“Oh, I don’t know. I’m pretty easy. Just tea. Black, green, I don’t really care.”
Erin considered, mentally cataloging the kinds of tea in the baskets at the middles of the tables. “How about… Earl Grey?” she suggested, pulling one of the yellow packets out.
Charley shrugged. “Sure, sounds good.” She sat down, not right next to Mary Lou, but not off on her own, either. Erin put the teabag in Charley’s cup and poured the water for her.
Other women started coming in the door. Melissa, with her mass of brown curls, eyes sparkling as she gossiped with Clara Jones, who she sometimes worked with at the police department’s administrative office. Clara was wearing a green dress, which Erin wasn’t sure looked good with Clara’s brassy curls and oversize jewelry. Clara seemed to enjoy drawing attention to herself, positive or negative.
Lottie was there, along with several others of the usual crowd. They all got quieter at the sight of Charley. Though Erin was sure they knew who Charley was, she introduced her anyway, trying to make everyone feel comfortable. Vic brought out the platters of cookies and confections, and everyone chattered at once, admiring the treats and discussing which were their favorites. Erin circulated, pouring water and making sure everyone had everything they needed. Eventually, everyone had been served, and there was nothing much more for Erin to do than just enjoy her guests and listen to them talk.
“I understand you are trying to open up The Bake Shoppe again,” Melissa said to Charley. “How is that coming along?”
“Slower than a herd of turtles,” Charley answered, shaking her head. “I mean… I know small towns do things slow, but how long can it take to decide the place is worth more open than closed?”
Sympathetic nods from around the table. They all knew about small-town bureaucr
acy and how hard it was to get people to make a decision.
“I managed to get ahold of Joelle Biggs,” Charley went on. “Asked her if she’d come meet with me to go over everything.”
The room fell utterly silent.
Charley looked around, her eyes wide. She looked over at Erin and raised her brows. “Uh… what?”
“Why would you ask her to come back to Bald Eagle Falls?” Erin asked, her voice coming out much more calm than she really felt.
“She holds Davis’s power of attorney, so if I can get her to agree to agree with me, she can just sign a consent on his behalf, and then the trustees don’t have a leg to stand on. We’re the only two beneficiaries of the bakery, and if we both say we want to go ahead and open it up again, why would they object? As soon as it’s gone through probate, we’re the ones who are going to making all the decisions on it.”
“Why would Joelle agree to come back here?” Lottie demanded. “She’s the one who killed Trenton Plaint! How could she dare show her face here again?”
“We couldn’t prove that it was done intentionally,” Vic pointed out. “I guess she knows there’s nothing we can do about it.”
Erin saw Charley’s eyes flash. She certainly intended to do something about it, and Erin worried that wasn’t just having a little chat with her. Yes, she wanted the bakery open, but that wasn’t all she wanted.
But instead of protesting, Charley just gave a lazy shrug and raised her teacup to her lips. “I don’t see how it’s anyone’s business but my own.”
The other ladies huffed and rolled their eyes, but didn’t come up with a reason that Charley should have to justify herself to them. It was true, as much as they liked to know all of what was going on and to give endless advice on the right way to do things, they didn’t have any control over what Charley and Joelle did and weren’t in an position to be making any demands. Of course, that hadn’t stopped them when Erin had moved into Bald Eagle Falls to open a second bakery. She had been the outsider then, and everyone had made it clear that she should be reopening the tea room rather than a bakery. Especially a gluten-free bakery, of all things.
“We’ll just have to see how it all unfolds,” Erin said, hoping to soothe the nettled tempers. She looked over in Vic’s direction. Vic was the one who was best at defusing things. She always seemed to know the right thing to say.
“Can’t knit a sweater before the sheep is shorn,” Vic agreed, making everyone laugh.
In a few minutes, the conversation moved on to other things, and Erin gave a sigh of relief. She would have to keep an eye on Charley. Maybe inviting her to the ladies’ tea hadn’t been the best idea.
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Brewing Death, Book #5 in the Auntie Clem’s Bakery series by P.D. Workman is coming soon!
About the Author
For as long as P.D. Workman can remember, the blank page has held an incredible allure. After a number of false starts, she finally wrote her first complete novel at the age of twelve. It was full of fantastic ideas. It was the spring board for many stories over the next few years. Then, forty-some novels later, P.D. Workman finally decided to start publishing. Lots more are on the way!
P.D. Workman is a devout wife and a mother of one, born and raised in Alberta, Canada. She is a homeschooler and an Executive Assistant. She has a passion for art and nature, creative cooking for special diets, and running. She loves to read, to listen to audio books, and to share books out loud with her family. She is a technology geek with a love for all kinds of gadgets and tools to make her writing and work easier and more fun. In person, she is far less well-spoken than on the written page and tends to be shy and reserved with all but those closest to her.
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Please visit P.D. Workman at pdworkman.com to see what else she is working on, to join her mailing list, and to link to her social networks.
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Stirring Up Murder Page 24
