Sugared Suspect

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Sugared Suspect Page 4

by Stephanie Damore


  Between Duffy’s drunkenness and Granny’s poor hearing, their conversations were bound to be entertaining. I wasn’t sure how I would join them without drawing unwanted attention to myself, but I really wanted Granny to accompany back to the bakery.

  “Want a drink?” Duffy offered Granny. The whiskey he had been drinking the moment he died appeared before him.

  “What’s wrong with your sink?” Granny replied.

  “It keeps leaking,” Duffy replied.

  “Barking? Don’t you hate when dogs do that. Cat’s just meow,” Granny replied.

  “I like cats,” Duffy replied.

  Then I thought of an idea.

  “Hey Cindy, you don’t by chance want a cat or know anyone who does, do you?”

  “Cat?” Cindy replied.

  Granny turned toward me.

  “Yeah. Granny had quite a few cats. We’re trying to re-home them. I’m hosting an adoption drive at the bakery tomorrow.”

  “You like cats?” Granny asked me.

  I answered her question while talking to Cindy. “I like cats and all, but I can’t take all of Granny’s in.”

  “I hear you. I’m more of a dog person, but my sister might be interested,” Cindy replied.

  “Will you tell her about it? She can stop by whenever to see them,” I said.

  “Can I?” Granny asked.

  I nodded yes to Granny.

  “Yeah, I’ll text her,” Cindy said.

  “Awesome, thanks so much,” I said to Cindy.

  “No problem. Your food should be up in a minute,” she replied.

  “Thanks.”

  I wasn’t sure how much of the conversation Granny had fully heard, but when Cindy handed me my takeout, Granny’s orb followed me out the door.

  “Where’s the cats at?” Granny asked me once we were back at the bakery.

  “They’re across the street at your apartment. I’m going to go over there tomorrow morning and get them.”

  “What? You can’t kidnap my cats!” Granny said with distress.

  “We’re not kidnapping them, we’re trying to find someone to help take care of them.”

  “What do you mean? I take care for them!”

  “You used to, and you did a wonderful job, but you’re not able to anymore,” I said.

  Granny was silent for a minute. Then she said, “Because I’m dead?”

  “Yes, and I’m sorry about that.” My voice was sincere, and I was happy to hear Granny acknowledge that she was no longer living.

  “So now what?” she asked.

  “Now I want to talk to you. The sheriff said someone poisoned you, but for the life of me I can’t figure out where or how.”

  “Who’s in prison?” Granny asked.

  No one, yet. “Not prison. Poisoned.”

  “Oh.” Granny shook her head.

  “Do you know if you had any enemies or someone who wanted you dead?” I thought of Vanessa.

  “No one comes to mind,” Granny said.

  “What about family members? Would someone, say Vanessa, benefit from your death?”

  “Vanessa? I didn’t leave a cent to her. All my money is going to the historical society.”

  Hmm, I wondered how hard pressed they were for cash? Something to think about. Then I tried another angle. “What about food? Did you eat anything that tasted different yesterday?”

  “No, I don’t think so. In fact, I felt fit as a fiddle until I ate that cinnamon roll of yours.”

  My heart plummeted. “My cinnamon roll tasted off?”

  “No, it tasted just fine, but I felt sick after eating it. Sleepy, too.”

  Oh, sweet sugar. Maybe I did somehow poison Granny. I tried not to panic and instead tried to think rationally. Granny wasn’t the only person who ate my cinnamon rolls yesterday and as far as I knew, everyone else was okay. I had to hold on to that thought. If not, I was going to completely freak out.

  Chapter 4

  The next morning Ellen met me at the bakery ready to kick off the adoption drive. I had spent the restless night at the apartment. With so much on my mind, I hadn’t been up for company other than Nick and Granny. Nick had tried to convince me it was all just a coincidence. I had wanted to believe him, but I was no longer one hundred percent sure of my innocence. I resisted the urge to look up “accidental death charges” online knowing full well they could use my internet searches against me in the court of law.

  “You’ll be fine. We’ll figure this out,” Nick had tried to reassure me. I wanted to believe him, but his comforting thoughts did little to quiet my nerves.

  Animal control had left the crates inside Granny’s apartment and Vanessa had agreed to let us in to round up the cats.

  “I’m not helping,” Vanessa said when she opened the door to let us in.

  “No problem. We got this. Right Ellen?” I said.

  “Right!” Ellen replied with more enthusiasm than either one of us felt.

  “I’ll be outside,” Vanessa replied.

  “Gosh, she’s friendly, isn’t she?” Ellen replied under her breath.

  “You have no idea,” I said.

  As if they sensed our plan, the cats scattered and hid all around the apartment. One was under the couch. Two sought shelter under the bed. One was behind the television entertainment center, and yet another wedged himself between the wall and the recliner.

  “It’s the crates. It’s making them nervous,” I told Ellen.

  Granny appeared just then. Her presence was a godsend. “Let me help,” she said. “Here, Smudge. Come on, Charlie. Tiger, where are you boy?” There was also a Bernie, Oscar, Felix, Snowflake, and Sir. “It’s short for Mister,” Granny explained. One by one the cats came out of hiding. Granny fussed over them and they followed her instructions, getting into the crates as she commanded.

  “You promise you’ll find them good homes?” Granny asked us.

  “Yes, I promise. You have my word,” I replied.

  Granny nodded then turned back into an orb. Ellen and I took that as our signal to take the cats across the street.

  I was right; the locals turned out in full force to gossip about Granny’s passing and we were lucky enough to find a few of the cats new homes almost immediately, but we still needed to find homes for five others.

  “Thinking about getting a furry friend?” I asked Mike when he stopped in.

  “Thinking about it,” the county commissioner replied. “I’ve only owned dogs, but I don’t have the time to put into a puppy right now. I heard cats were more independent.”

  That was true. Milo had been sneaking off more and more lately and the only time I saw him was when he wanted something to eat. Speaking of which, as soon as Milo spotted the other cats, he bolted. I guess he was a one-cat kind of guy.

  “That one seems to be like a handsome fellow,” I said motioning to the all gray cat named Smudge. You could tell he was older and that he would be much more content sleeping on the back of someone’s couch versus getting the attention from the two kiddos who were scratching and poking at him right at that moment.

  “You’re right. He seems like a nice cat. I’ll go check him out.” Mike took his coffee and turned around and came face-to-face with Tammy.

  “You think you can replace my sister’s love with a cat?” she asked.

  “What?” Tammy caught Mike off guard. Me too. In fact, my mouth was wide open.

  “She would have given you everything, you know that? What’s it going to take you to forgive her?” Tammy folded her arms and stared down Mike.

  “Listen Tammy, my relationship with your sister is between me and her. I’m sorry she roped you into this, but you’re wasting your time.”

  Tammy thought for a moment before replying, “You’re a sad man, Mike Rogers. I have no idea what Tonya ever saw in you.”

  I did. She told me when she had a gun pointed at my chest. Mike was her ticket out of the trailer park. She wasn’t willing to ever go back.

  With that
last statement, Tammy turned on her heels and walked out of the bakery. Mike turned back around and said, “Maybe I’ll take two cats.”

  “Good thinking.”

  Mike did end up adopting two cats. Smudge and Tiger, the orange and white striped male. I was worried how Granny would take seeing her cats go off to new homes, but Nick floated by her side the entire time offering comfort.

  Shortly after noon Autumn had the audacity to stop by. I ignored her when she walked through the bakery’s back door. I was taking out another batch of cinnamon cherry pie tarts out of the oven and you would think they were as fragile as an antique porcelain doll with how carefully I was handling them. Truthfully, I was hoping Autumn would turn around and walk back out. I had been in a good mood that morning and I didn’t want her to ruin it.

  Seeing she was still standing there, and the oven was empty, I was forced to turn to her and give her my attention. My look said yes? even though my lips didn’t.

  “I guess I deserve that look,” Autumn said.

  “You do and I’m still not happy with you,” I replied. “But I have a bakery to run and I don’t feel like getting into another row.”

  “I’m not here to fight. I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

  “What?” I was shocked. Autumn never said sorry.

  Autumn continued, “I don’t think you poisoned Granny, but I do think someone poisoned her in your bakery. I should have handled my suspicions better.”

  “Thanks for that. You know I’m more than happy to comply with any investigation.”

  “I know that. I didn’t want the sheriff to think I’d comprise the investigation somehow.”

  “Seeing I’m your sister and I own the bakery,” I filled in.

  “Right. Preston is leading up the investigation. I’m not involved, and I promise I won’t interfere anymore.”

  I wasn’t sure Autumn could keep that promise, but I accepted her apology.

  “How’s the adoption drive going?” she asked.

  “It’s gone well. I think they’ll all have new homes by the end of the day. Speaking of which, I better get back out there.”

  “I’ll let you get to it. Mind if I take a coffee to go?”

  “No, help yourself. Grab a cherry tart, too. I made plenty.” I left Autumn in the kitchen and went back to the front of the house to get back to work.

  “Is that all of them?” I asked when the last cat went out the door and I locked up after the new owners.

  “I think so,” Amelia said, looking in all the crates. “I lost count.”

  “How’s Granny doing?” I asked Nick.

  “Doing well.” He gave a thumbs up. Granny sat on a barstool at the front counter looking bored. She reminded me of a little child, sitting there and waiting for her parents to tell her it was time to leave. I looked around the bakery, half expecting a bright light to appear now that all the cats had found new homes, but heaven wasn’t calling for Granny just yet.

  Janice walked through the front door and all of our heads snapped up in her direction.

  “Oh hey Claire, just wondering what stunt you’ll pull tomorrow to bring the customers in. Anyone else die that you can take advantage of?” Janice smirked.

  “Excuse me?” I replied.

  “Because everyone knows that my bakery is way better than yours.”

  “Whatever, Janice. Why don’t you move on.” Or more like crawl into whatever hole you came out of, I thought.

  “Tootles,” Janice said with a little finger wave and sashayed back out the bakery.

  “Gosh, I hate her,” Amelia said.

  “You and me both, girl,” I replied.

  “What does she have against you, anyway?” Amelia asked.

  “Janice? Oh, we go way back,” I replied.

  “She dated Nick in high school, dear,” Ellen added for me.

  “She did? Gosh, what did Nick ever see in her?” Amelia asked, pulling out two chairs and taking a seat. One was for her and the other for her feet.

  That got a laugh out of me. Nick was speechless. “He was young,” I said in my husband’s defense. Truth was, Nick and Janice were a power-couple, if we could call a high school relationship such. Janice, the cheerleader captain and Nick, the all-star football player. Then lo-and-behold Nick had to fall in love with the bookworm, breaking up with Janice and opting to take me to senior prom. Janice, convinced to win him back, spread all sorts of nasty rumors about me. Therefore, we were forced to be rivals. I thought my life was void of her forever when she got married and moved out of state. Unfortunately, that marriage hadn’t lasted, and she was back being a thorn in my side—her cookie shop being only the latest example.

  “It does make me wonder why she keeps stopping in here though,” Ellen said.

  “What do you mean, keeps stopping in here?” As far as I knew that was the first time Janice had stepped foot in the bakery.

  “She was just here on Saturday,” Ellen said. “Although I don’t think she stayed long once she realized you weren’t here to torment.”

  “Saturday? As in the day someone poisoned Granny?” I asked in disbelief.

  Amelia’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh my gosh, you’re right. She was here! You were out shoveling and fetching Granny when she stopped by.”

  “Did she do anything suspicious?” I asked.

  Amelia and Ellen looked to one another.

  “I don’t know. I was just getting ready to leave, remember? You told me to head on home. She was still here when I left,” Autumn said.

  Ellen looked lost in her thoughts. “You know what, I don’t remember seeing her leave. I only saw her for a minute. Then business picked up, and I lost sight of her.”

  We all looked at one another.

  “Do you think she could’ve poisoned Granny?” Amelia asked.

  “And shut my bakery down for good? I wouldn’t put it past her.”

  “Although I doubt she actually wanted to kill anyone,” Nick said, giving Janice the benefit of the doubt.

  I told the group what Nick said and then replied, “She can tell that to the judge.”

  “But how do we prove it?” Amelia asked.

  “Good question,” I replied. “Nick, you up for a little recon work?”

  “You read my mind. I’ll go over to her place and see what I can uncover.”

  “Thanks, babe. Let me know what Janice is up to or if you come across any evidence we can alert the Sheriff’s Department to.” We needed hard evidence. Hearsay would never cut it.

  Nick winked out of existence. I watched his orb float out the front window and across the street. Granny was still sitting at the front counter. Her head rested in her palm, eyes closed. I was pretty sure she was taking a nap.

  Ellen had already reached for a broom and was cleaning the front of the house. Any stray cat hair would be gone by the time she was through. Speaking of cats, I wanted to hunt down Milo to see how he was holding up now that the other cats were gone. I might have to make a special run to East Bay Market for some of Steve’s smoked fish to get back on my cat’s good side. I jogged up the stairs to the apartment and called out for my furball, but he didn’t respond.

  “Milo, come out buddy. I promise all the other kitties are gone!”

  Still nothing.

  “Milo! Come on. Let’s take a drive. You want to get some lunch?” While I walked around the apartment, I looked in all of Milo’s usual hangouts—on the back of the couch, in the middle of the spare bed and even under it. Milo liked comfort. I could usually find him some place that was soft and warm. But I couldn’t find him anywhere. I took his bag of kibble out from under the kitchen sink and gave it a few shakes, but even that didn’t nudge him out of hiding.

  I jogged back downstairs. Milo rarely hung out in the kitchen, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t hiding there right now. I called out for him once more. Amelia came around back.

  “What’s up?” She asked me. My face did little to hide my concern.

  “I can’t find Milo.
Have you seen him?”

  “No, not at all,” Amelia said.

  “What’s wrong, dear?” Ellen asked, joining us.

  “Milo is MIA.” I wanted to assume he was just mad about the other cats in the bakery today and he was off somewhere pouting, but I’d feel better once I knew that for a fact. I told Amelia and Ellen just as much.

  “I’m sure the little trouble maker is around here somewhere.” Ellen’s eyes darted around the kitchen.

  “Mind looking for him down here? I’m going to go look for him upstairs again,” I said.

  “We’re on it,” Amelia replied.

  But my second pass wasn’t successful either. There was only so many places Milo could hide. The apartment wasn’t that big. I started to fear that Milo snuck out when Autumn left.

  Without so much as a coat on, I walked up and down the sidewalk calling for my feline friend. “Milo!” I whistled looking under parked cars and in the bushes for any sign of my cat. With his dark brown fur and black markings you would think he would be easy to spot against the wintry landscape, but I couldn’t spot him anywhere.

  Back inside the bakery, Amelia was having an emotional meltdown. “I can’t believe Milo is missing. This is just super sad,” she said. Big fat crocodile tears welled and spilled out of her eyes. She brushed them away, apologizing. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t be crying. I should be supportive. These stupid pregnancy hormones,” she said. The tears really fell at that point.

  Ellen gave her a hug and said over her shoulder, “I made a couple of calls, but no one else remembers seeing Milo this afternoon, either.”

  My heart grew heavy. I needed to find him.

  “Why don’t you guys head home.” Amelia had to get off her feet. “I’m not leaving the bakery without Milo. I’ll just sleep here tonight and maybe he’s just hiding somewhere upstairs.” That’s what I was praying for.

  I had a hard time falling asleep that night. I had managed to convince myself that Milo would come out of hiding and crawl into bed once I was asleep, but when I woke up shortly after midnight without my kitty curled behind my legs there was no way I was going back to sleep. I sat in bed staring at the exposed air ducts above me and tried to keep my anxiety in check.

 

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