by Amber Crewes
She turned on her heel and stormed out of the bakery as Meghan stared in awe. “What a woman,” she whispered in delight as Robin clutched his croissant close to his chest.
“I’m leaving too, Meghan,” Robin called out as he walked to the door. “Thanks for the croissant. I’ll be back next week on my drive up.”
Meghan smiled at Wendy. “See? My loyal customers will stand by me,” she proudly declared as Wendy glowered at her. “You may have scared off the town for now, but eventually, the truth will come out, Wendy. I didn’t have anything to do with Lucky’s death. Nothing!”
The little silver bells chimed again, and Wendy gasped as the front door opened. Mia walked into the bakery carrying a mint green basket. “Hello, Meghan,” she said kindly. “Hello, Wendy.”
Wendy glared at her boyfriend’s wife. “What are you doing here?”
Mia raised an eyebrow. “I could ask you the same question,” she said to Wendy. “Although, I think I already know the answer. I heard you in here, harassing poor Meghan. How dare you, Wendy? She’s a nice girl, and you have no business bringing your troubles around here.”
Wendy balled her fists. “I can go wherever I’d like,” she declared rebelliously. “Just as I went wherever I liked with your husband.”
Mia’s jaw dropped. She set the basket down on the counter. “I brought you some dragon fruit,” she told Meghan as she unclipped her white gold hoop earrings and placed them beside the basket. “I wanted to thank you for your kindness the other day.”
Meghan watched as Mia rolled up her sleeves. “Alright, Wendy,” Mia challenged as she took a deep breath. “Let’s have it out. I’ve known about you for years, and don’t think for a minute that Lucky didn’t tell me everything he did with you.”
Wendy’s eyes flashed with anger. “Oh, did he?”
Mia nodded as she stepped closer to Wendy, eventually stopping when she was only inches from Wendy’s pointed nose. “You thought you had my man,” she laughed as Wendy scowled. “You thought he was wrapped around your young, skinny little finger.”
“He was,” she insisted, her eyes bright and her face flushed. “He was going to leave you, Mia. Your relationship with Lucky was over, and everyone in this dump of a town knew it.”
Mia smiled, and the look sent shivers down Meghan’s spine. “I heard a little something about you today, Wendy,” Mia said in a sing-song voice. “Do you want to know the itty bitty rumor I heard? I have connections in this town, you know.”
Wendy scoffed. “What could you possibly know about me?”
Mia grinned. “The insurance company called,” she whispered. “They told me a woman named Wendy called to inquire about my husband’s policy. She knew that he had increased his policy in the last year, and she wanted to learn more about the process of accessing his funds. Wendy, darling, what do you think the police will think about that? The little tramp who knew about my husband’s allergy called the insurance company to ask about acquiring his money? The money he was planning to leave to his children? You look a little guilty, Wendy, and I think the police will agree.”
Wendy’s jaw dropped. The color drained from her face, and she turned and sprinted out of the bakery.
“Oh my goodness,” Meghan said softly as Mia turned to fetch her earrings.
Mia winked at Meghan as she guided a hoop back into her right ear. “And that’s how it’s done,” she announced victoriously. “No one is going to mess with me.”
15
After Mia left, Meghan went upstairs to change into comfortable clothing. She felt silly as she trudged up the stairs in her coral dress; she had hoped that dressing up would bring her luck, but it seemed to have only brought her trouble.
As Meghan slipped out of the coral dress and into a pair of loose olive green capri pants, she replayed the events of the night Lucky died again and again. Why was Wendy so convinced that she had something to do with Lucky’s death? Was Wendy hiding something?
She thought of the scene in the library. She had not brought her desserts into the room, but had Lucky somehow been given a bite of her banana nut bread? She remembered that Jeanne Marie Fields had angrily taken Lucky away from the group for a few minutes. Had Jeanne Marie accidentally given Lucky the bread?
“Who can help me solve this mystery?” Meghan wondered aloud as she pulled a beige sweatshirt over her head.
She sighed, hoping that the rest of her day would be quieter. She gave her dogs a pat on their heads and went back downstairs to the bakery. She went to work scrubbing pans, and as she filled a dirty blue bowl with water, Pamela came into the kitchen. Meghan waved at her, but the teenager was buried in her phone.
“Pamela,” Meghan said sharply as Pamela’s gaze jerked upward.
“Hey,” Pamela said. “Sorry I’m late. I was hanging out with Roberto. Mr. Cazale paid us to pick up sticks in his yard, and I didn’t realize what time it was.”
Meghan was suddenly struck with inspiration. “Thank you!” she cried as she hugged Pamela.
“Thank you?” Pamela asked, her nose wrinkled in confusion. “I don’t usually get a thank you for being late to work.”
“Today, it’s excused,” she informed her. “You gave me an idea, Pamela. I have to go. Can you hold down the fort for a few hours?”
Pamela nodded. “For sure. Where are you going?”
Meghan smiled. “I’m heading over to where you came from. I have some business to attend to with Mr. Cazale.”
She ran out of the bakery, grinning as the warm air hit her face. She raced to the funeral home, sure that she would find the answers she needed.
Mr. Cazale answered the door after Meghan’s first knock. “What do you want?” he asked gruffly. “Ever since Lucky died, my business has drastically decreased. Everyone in town thinks you have something to do with his death. You should get out of here, Meghan. I don’t want anyone to see you here. I might lose even more business.”
Meghan nodded. “I understand,” she told him. “I’ve been losing business myself. I think we’re in the same boat, Mr. Cazale. Lucky died. There aren’t clear answers. And now, we small business owners are suffering. We’re on the same team, I believe, and if we can work together, I think we can solve our problems.”
Mr. Cazale wiggled his nose as he thought about Meghan’s idea. “I just want things to go back to normal,” he told her. “The day that clown came into my funeral home, everything went to pieces.”
“I know,” she agreed. “I feel the same way. We have to get to the bottom of things if we want our lives to go back to normal, Mr. Cazale, and I don’t think we’ll find the answers unless we collaborate.”
Mr. Cazale shrugged. “What do I have to lose? You might as well come on in.” He gestured for Meghan to come inside, and he led her to a casual living room in the back of the house. “This is usually off-limits to guests; it’s our private family living room.”
“It’s nice,” Meghan complimented as she spotted a picture of Roberto as a baby. “I’m sure you and your family enjoy your time in here.”
Mr. Cazale settled into a red leather armchair and pointed to the matching couch. “Make yourself comfortable.”
Meghan sat down. “What do you remember about the day Lucky died?” she asked Mr. Cazale as he twirled his mustache around his fingers.
“All of us were visiting,” he began. “You, the Fields, and myself. I thought we should introduce the Fields to Lucky and his lady, and we went to the library.”
“Was anything here out of sorts on that day?” she inquired.
“Not that I am aware of,” he replied. “Earlier in the afternoon, Lucky came to my office to complain of a cough he was fighting. He asked for some cough syrup. I asked if he had a cold, but he said he was experiencing adjustment issues because of the change of altitude in Sandy Bay. I didn’t think much of it, but now that we’re talking about it, I do remember that his eyes looked red and puffy as well.”
“Did anything else seem strange?”
He shook his head. “He took the cough medicine and was back in his good spirits a few minutes later. Wendy came to my office looking for him, and he gave her a kiss on the cheek.”
Meghan groaned at the mention of Wendy but continued questioning Mr. Cazale. “What about the Fields? Besides the few moments when Jeanne Marie stole Lucky away from us, were they ever alone with Lucky?”
He furrowed his brow. “Not to my knowledge.”
Meghan sat back in her chair. “So you’re telling me that before the Fields and I arrived, Lucky came to you with red eyes and a cough?”
“That’s right.”
“We need to find out exactly where he was before he came over,” she declared. “We need to find out exactly what Lucky did before walking through your door, and I think I know just who we can talk to.”
Mr. Cazale nodded. “Who do you have in mind?”
Meghan shook her head. “I can’t say now, but I think I know what to do.”
She waved goodbye to Mr. Cazale and took off running out of his office. Just as she stepped outside, she ran straight into Rupert Fields.
“Rupert,” Meghan gasped as she caught her breath. “What are you doing here? I heard around town that you cancelled the funeral for your father and moved it to a parlor in Eugene.”
Rupert shrugged. “I wanted to give Mr. Cazale some money for his trouble,” he explained. “I feel bad about everything that happened, and I’ve heard that’s he’s been struggling for business since that clown died.”
Meghan nodded. “That’s nice of you,” she said politely.
Rupert sighed. “What a disaster that day was,” he lamented as he adjusted his blue checkered tie. “My wife was being insufferable, and then that clown died. What a tragedy.”
“It’s been difficult,” she told him. “People think that I had something to do with it, and I didn’t. The police said that he had to have eaten some nuts to have died from an allergic reaction, and I didn’t give him any of my banana nut bread.”
Rupert frowned. “Has your business suffered as well?”
“Yes,” she confirmed. “No one trusts my treats anymore.”
Rupert’s face brightened. “I can fix that,” he announced. “Why don’t you cater the event I’m throwing in Eugene? I’ll have my team put it in all of the newspapers here, and it will clear your name.”
Meghan raised an eyebrow. “After everything, you would let me cater your father’s funeral? You aren’t scared that my desserts will kill your guests?”
Rupert nodded. “I’m a reasonable guy,” he assured her. “I’m sure that whatever happened to that clown wasn’t your fault. You seem like a nice girl, and if letting you cater the event will help you, then I am happy to give you the business.”
Meghan smiled and thanked Rupert, but as she walked away, her head was spinning. How was Rupert so confident that her desserts were safe? Did he know something about who really was responsible for Lucky’s death?
“Is he covering up for his wife?” Meghan wondered as she bounded toward the bakery. “Jeanne Marie looked pretty angry when Lucky talked back to her. What if she had something to do with it, and Rupert is hiding something?”
16
Meghan groaned as she walked into her apartment and saw her bedroom in disarray; the dogs had used the pile of clean laundry she had placed on her bed earlier in the evening as their bathroom, and the stench was unbearable.
“Fiesta! Siesta! What did you do?” Meghan cried as she held her nose and examined the damage. The dogs had soiled several days’ worth of clean clothes, and Meghan quickly realized that she had no clean clothes for work the next day.
“You two should know better,” she grumbled as she delicately picked up each piece of filthy clothing and stuffed it into a trash bag. “What am I going to do now? I have nothing to wear for tomorrow!”
She glanced at her watch. It was just after ten in the evening, and while she was ready to settle in for the evening, she knew it would be necessary to make a trip to the 24-hour laundromat around the corner.
“Two trips to the laundromat in one day,” she growled to herself as she threw the trash bag over her shoulder and stormed down the stairs. “I have enough to worry about right now; with my business crashing and burning because of these accusations, and my reputation at stake, the last thing I need right now is a mess from my dogs.”
Meghan stepped outside and shivered; the air was unusually chilly, and in the darkness, the sound of the waves roaring in the distance was eerie rather than comforting. She glanced around as she walked, nervous to be out and about by herself.
As she rounded the corner, she heard the sound of footsteps behind her. She quickened her pace, hoping she could outwalk whomever was behind her. Her heart beat furiously in her chest as she moved even faster, and she anxiously looked behind her, relieved when she realized she was alone.
“That was spooky,” she thought to herself as she turned around and continued her walk, but only seconds later, she felt goosebumps on her arms as she realized the footsteps had picked up again, along with the terrifying sound of primal growling.
The bag of laundry was heavy, but Meghan didn’t care; she took off running at a dead sprint, but the sound of the footsteps did not fade in the distance. Whomever was behind her was certainly following her, and she nearly jumped out of her skin as she pushed open the creaky door of the laundromat. She sighed in relief when she saw several other customers tossing their laundry into the old, rusty machines.
“All of these people are here late at night,” Meghan told herself as she slowed her breathing. “I’m safe. It’s okay.”
Meghan stuffed her nasty clothing into three large washers and settled into a gray concrete chair. She pulled out her phone to text Jack.
Are you awake? I’m at the laundromat….Fiesta and Siesta peed all over my clothes :(
Jack did not respond. “He must be asleep,” she thought as she stashed her phone in the sleeve of her marble sweatpants.
Two hours dragged by, and finally, Meghan’s laundry was finished. She collected her clothing from the machines and packed it into a clean duffle bag she had brought. She zipped up the bag, waved goodbye to the cashier, and set out toward her apartment.
As she crossed the street, she heard someone walking behind her. She quickened her step, hoping she was simply paranoid, but as she walked faster, the sound of growling that she had heard earlier began again.
Meghan turned around sharply. “Why are you following me?”
She was shocked to see Frank, Mrs. Sheridan’s boyfriend. He was holding the leash of a large brindle English Mastiff, and Meghan nearly fainted in relief.
“What are you doing out so late?” she asked Frank as he smiled at her.
“What? You think old fellas have to go to bed right after dinner?” Frank joked as he bent down to scratch his dog behind the ears. “Marshall and I have been out for a little jaunt around the block. We saw you walking earlier and I wanted to ask if you needed help with that trash bag you were carrying.”
Meghan’s heart was racing as Frank explained himself, but she forced a smile onto her face. “It’s nice to see you,” she told him. “That is a handsome dog.”
“Marshall is my best friend,” he said to Meghan as she kissed Marshall on the head. “I’ve had him since he was eight weeks old. He and I are two peas in a pod.”
Marshall licked Meghan’s cheeks, and she giggled. “Does Mrs. Sheridan like having a dog around?”
Frank bit his lip. “Marshall and my dear Sally haven’t quite taken to each other,” he admitted. “Marshall gets a little too excited for my sweetheart sometimes.”
Meghan nodded. “It can be hard to train a dog to adapt to new people,” she comforted him as he pet his dog’s jowls. “I still hope that they will become close.”
Frank took a long look at Meghan’s face. “You look like you have the entire world resting on your shoulders,” he said. “Is something eating you up? I know we don’t
know each other well, but it seems to me like you need a friend.”
Meghan fought tears. “It’s not a big deal.”
Frank placed a hand of Meghan’s shoulder. “Sure seems like it….”
She sighed. “It’s been a hard week,” Meghan murmured. “Everyone thinks that I had something to do with Lucky passing away; the deadly reaction he had to the nuts has people scared that my treats had something to do with it. It’s been a big hit on my business, and I’m worried that the truth isn’t going to sway people; what if my business never recovers from this?”
