And then, I thought, why not something ghoulish? “Something blue,” I announced to an empty room. “I’ve got it!” I snapped my fingers. “Blueberry ice cream.”
I ran back to the kitchen. I didn’t have what I needed. I knew I’d have to go to the grocery store. I sat at my desk and wrote out a shopping list, then looked up twenty-four-hour grocery stores before heading out.
The heck with snow and dead bodies. Customers were going to come in droves just like they did in my grandparents’ day. Fingers and ice cream scoops crossed.
* * *
- - - - -
I lifted my head from the table and swiped my fingers across each eye. The sweater wrapped around my shoulders fell off onto the floor. The sun, streaming through the windows, lit up the room. I had to think for a minute to remember where I was.
I looked at the time on the phone I had gripped in my hands and shot straight up in the chair.
“OMG!”
It was ten fifteen. In the morning! I looked down and realized it was a new day, but the old me. I had fallen asleep. I needed to shower and change my clothes.
Felice was staring at me from the window seat. I picked up the sweater and shook it at her. “Has your momma been down here?”
“Brrrreow.” She tilted her head to one side and winked at me.
“Why didn’t you wake me up?” I said. I needed to get home to bathe and change. I had forty-five minutes. Good thing I had driven down the hill.
She blinked her eyes at me slowly, as if to say she had, then stretched and lay down for a nap.
“Well, unlike you, I can’t sleep any longer,” I said, hopping up. “I have an ice cream shop to run.” I turned the jukebox off, grabbed my coat and rushed out the door into the cold morning air, not putting on the brakes all the way up the hill to the old Victorian. I hustled into the house and showered, dressed and was out and headed back down the hill by ten til eleven.
I parked around the corner—didn’t want to take parking spaces from my soon-to-be-many customers. Happy that yesterday was over, even though I’d had almost no sleep, I felt energized and ready for the day.
Satisfied with my middle-of-the-night and early-morning social media blitz, I set out the ice cream, replacing three of the flavors from the day before with the Pumpkin Spice Roll, Candycopia and Ghoulish Blueberry I’d made. I ran around the dining area and made sure all the chairs and tables were straight. Pushing Felice over, I vacuumed up her cat hair from the bench—she hadn’t moved while I was gone—turned the jukebox back on, hit the power button on the cash register and put money I’d gotten out of our safe in the kitchen into the drawer for change.
I blew out a breath and looked around. Everything looked good, I nodded to myself. I grabbed a couple of cat treats from under the counter and walked over to Felice.
“You keeping watch?” I asked. She still hadn’t moved. I sat next to her on the bench, stroking her down her back and over her wide, fluffy tail.
“I only need people to taste it.” She climbed halfway onto my lap. “They’ll love it.”
“Erreow,” she trilled, seemingly agreeing with me.
“Yesterday was one heck of a day for me,” I told her. “But today will be different.”
“Brrreow.”
I turned to look out of the window. The soft glow from the front-mounted lanterns still on from the night before made me feel warm and comfortable. A shining beacon letting me know I was doing the right thing.
Those thoughts faded away as I saw a police car sitting in front of the flower store next door. A grim reminder of what had happened the day before.
They must still be working on finding out who that was down by the falls, I thought.
I broke from my reverie and looked at my watch.
“Time to get this day started,” I said to Felice. I picked her up and nuzzled her before setting her back on the window seat. I got up, turned the outside lights off and flipped the switch for the cool orange neon Open sign that hung in the window. Glancing up, I noted the cloudless blue skies. Maybe no snow today, but I already knew that Chagrin Falls had officially started its winter and selling ice cream was going to be an uphill battle.
Speaking of the cold, I felt quite warm. I went over and checked the thermostat. It was on eighty.
Rivkah!
chapter
TEN
I went in the back to wash my hands. I was warm, so I took off my long-sleeved shirt, leaving on just the T-shirt with the shop’s logo.
A song in my head, I was humming when I heard the side door opening. It startled me. I wasn’t expecting anyone this early. I looked toward the door and saw PopPop step inside. He’d come in with his own key. Closing the door behind him, he stomped his feet and smiled at me.
“Morning, little girl,” he said.
“Morning, PopPop,” I said, surprise in my voice. I hadn’t expected to see him at the shop. “I didn’t come to see you this morning.” It was a statement, but I meant it as an apology.
“I don’t need you to tell me that,” he said, an amused look on his face. He pulled off his hat, holding it in one hand, and adjusted his backgammon board and newspaper stuck under his other arm. “I’m fully aware of what happened this morning.”
“I was here all night.”
“Were you, now?” He looked around, taking in the kitchen area. “Did you get any sleep?”
“A little,” I said, looking toward the front of the store where I had nodded off, arms folded, head lying on top. It seemed sufficient, though. With the anticipation I had buzzing all through me, I probably couldn’t have slept much longer even in my own bed. “I feel good.”
“Ready to sell ice cream?”
I held my breath. Did he know I hadn’t sold any the day before? I bit onto my bottom lip, not able to think of a word to say to him. I had done enough tweeting and posting to let people know and get people in, but facing PopPop gave me pause. I started clicking my nails.
He smiled. Walking past me, he grasped my hand and gave it a squeeze. “It’s okay,” he said, and headed out to the front of the store. Standing at the entryway between the kitchen and dining area, he let out a whistle. “Now this is what I call an ice cream parlor.”
A smile beamed across my face. “You like it?” I asked.
“I love it,” he said. He turned and looked at me, and I swore I saw a twinkle in his eye. “And so would your Grandma Kay.”
I didn’t think my smile could get any wider, but it did.
“Thought I’d come and sit with you awhile,” he said.
“You came to help serve ice cream?”
“I said ‘sit,’” he said, his brow wrinkling. He patted the bundle under his arm. “Brought something to pass the time. Don’t plan on doing any work. At least not today.”
He shrugged out of his coat, folded it over, laid it down on the booth seat, put his hat on top of it and slid it to the end of the bench. He sat down, wiggling and patting the seat. He seemed to be testing it. It must have passed his inspection, because he nodded and unfolded his newspaper.
“I don’t have any coffee,” I said, glancing over at the counter as if I didn’t know whether a coffeemaker would be there or not.
He snapped his fingers. “I brought some from home. Must’ve left it in the car.” He used his hands to press down into the bench and scooted his way out of it. “I’ll just run and get it.” He picked up his coat and hat and slipped out the front door. I watched him walk past the big window, tugging down on his hat and pulling his coat closed, and it wasn’t long before he returned carrying a yellow-and-purple-plaid thermos.
“Where’s the runner for the front door?” he said, stepping back inside and stomping his feet. “You don’t want the floor getting wet and somebody falling when they come in.”
If someone comes in . . .
“I’ve got it in the back,” I said, and pointed over my shoulder. “I’ll go get it.”
I rushed to the back and found it in the corner of the utility closet. I put the black rubber rug in front of the door. PopPop was standing in front of the dipping cabinet, peering down into it.
“This ice cream looks good, Win. Makes my mouth water just looking at it.”
I came and stood next to him. “I made some seasonal flavors.” I tapped my fingers on the glass, pointing to the three new flavors. “I wanted to get the village ready for Halloween and the Pumpkin Roll.”
He shook his head. “I hate that thing. Whoever thought rolling pumpkins down a hill could be fun? Pumpkins all in the streets, kids out at midnight making all kinds of noise.”
“I know you hate it, PopPop, but those kids might just come in here and buy ice cream, plus all the spectators that come out with them.”
“I guess so,” he said. He bent forward, looking through the glass again. “Well, you’ve come up with some winners there.” He nodded toward the case. “You’ve got your grandmother’s touch. Not everyone can make up flavors like that or make ice cream look smooth and glisten like you do.”
“It’s the lights, PopPop.” I pointed up. “I had them strategically placed.”
“No, I think that’s all you.” He pointed through the glass. “The soda fountain. That jukebox. Gives the place a whole new vibe.”
“A good vibe?”
“A real good vibe.” He chuckled. “Have I told you lately how proud I am of you?”
“You tell me all the time, PopPop.”
“I probably don’t tell you enough.” He headed back over to the bench where he’d left his newspaper and backgammon board and went through the same routine of taking off his coat and hat, but this time he didn’t sit. He turned and looked at me. “I heard you had a visitor at the store yesterday.”
“He didn’t come into the store.” I hedged around the answer. Didn’t know how I should talk about it, even if I should talk about it. My mother had told me what that man had done to our family and business. That was enough hurt caused by him that my mother would think that my father would stoop to murder if the guy just showed his face. “I saw him out front. He had a little lost puppy.”
“Whose puppy was it?” he asked.
“I don’t know, PopPop, and he didn’t either,” I said, and shook my head. “That’s why it was lost.”
“Wouldn’t be surprised if he stole it.” His eyes narrowing, he spoke through tight lips.
After learning what a con man he was, I wouldn’t be surprised either.
I noticed talking about the guy was building up a little steam, and anger started bubbling through. I thought that maybe I should change the subject.
“Who you playing backgammon with?” I said, and pointed to the board sitting on the table at the bench he’d occupied. Although I’d seen PopPop play by himself plenty of times, I just didn’t know what else to say.
His eyes followed my finger toward the table, then they turned back and looked at me. “I don’t want you worrying about that fellow,” he said. “He won’t be bothering you anymore.”
I looked at my grandfather. He wasn’t frail by any meaning of the word, but he was old. Nearly eighty, he was slim and stood tall, but nothing about him was menacing. I glanced over at the table and understood. He had come today to protect me. To make sure I’d be okay.
“He wasn’t trying to hurt me,” I said. “I didn’t feel scared or anything.” Other than finding the dead guy down at the falls, in all my years I’d never known anything going on in our little village that would cause me to be afraid to go out or talk with people.
“He was a con man, Win. Took advantage of your Grandma Kay. Of all of us.”
I could tell that those words bit into my grandfather’s very being. He wasn’t one to tolerate anything that had caused his wife pain.
“He did say things that weren’t true,” I said, remembering his comment about my grandmother making mud pie ice cream. “And I guess”—I hunched my shoulders—“in his eyes, he was playing a game with me, but he didn’t hurt me.”
“Like I said, he won’t be hurting anyone else in this family, that’s for sure.”
I raised my eyebrows and tried to imagine my grandfather as Liam Neeson in Taken, going out to avenge me for some wrongdoing. I would have chuckled at the thought, but PopPop’s face was serious and he was looking right at me.
“Okay,” I said sheepishly. “I know you’ll take care of me.”
chapter
ELEVEN
I heard the chime over the door go off, and my stomach leapt into my chest. A customer. My very first customer!
I glanced over at PopPop. He didn’t even look my way. He had sat down and picked his newspaper back up. Evidently, he hadn’t come down to watch me making sales.
“Hi,” I said to our customer. “Welcome to Crewse Creamery.”
“Are you the person that found the dead body?”
“Excuse me?” I said. I turned and looked at PopPop. He looked up momentarily, then back down at his paper. The woman hadn’t wasted any time getting to her point. And what she needed apparently wasn’t ice cream.
“I don’t think we’ve ever had a murder in Chagrin Falls,” the woman said.
“I don’t think there’s been one now either,” I said.
“Of course there has.” Her words came out with incredulity. “You should know, you discovered it. You must not have seen the morning paper.” She was wearing a black wool overcoat, mid-calf-high boots. Her hair was brown, parted on the side and cut even with her mouth, her face pale from the cold. She looked as if she could have been the Prada version of the Grim Reaper, but I wasn’t sold on her facts of the case.
“Nope,” I said, my lips tight. I slowly shook my head. “I’ve been here making ice cream.”
“You make the ice cream?”
“Yes, we do.”
“Here?”
“Right in the back.” I pointed to the particleboard placeholder. “We’ll have a see-through wall soon so you’ll be able to see us do it.”
“That’s cool,” she said, then let her eyes fall down on the dipping case. “What kind of ice cream do you have?”
“They’re all listed there.” I pointed to the chalkboard sitting on top of the back counter. “But today’s special is Pumpkin Spice Roll.”
She laughed. “It is that time of year, isn’t it?”
“Yep.”
“My son can’t wait. Too old to go trick-or-treating around these parts just means you’re old enough to go out in the middle of the night and roll pumpkins down North Main.”
“I’m sure he’d love some, too,” I said, pointing at the deep orange ice cream.
“Who eats ice cream in the middle of winter?”
“Everyone,” I said, and grabbed one of the dipping spoons. “And technically, it’s still fall.”
“You’d never know with this weather.”
I took the spoon and dipped up some of the pumpkin ice cream. “We’re going to get a little sunshine today,” I said, and handed the sample to her.
She hesitantly wrapped her mouth around the tiny spoon, her lips sliding the ice cream into her mouth. “Oh! My!” She covered her mouth as she spoke. “This is so good!” Her eyes beamed with appreciation. “Do I taste cinnamon?”
“Maybe,” I said.
“I do!” she said. “And how did you get this to taste like real pumpkin?”
“I used real pumpkin.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Get out of here.” I nodded. “Did you really?”
“I did,” I said, a proud smile beaming across my face. I held up one of the pint cups. “You’d like some to go?”
“I would,” she said.
While I filled her container, I could see her as
she took in her surroundings.
“I used to come here. Haven’t been in a while,” she said. “What happened to the lottery machine?”
“We just sell ice cream now,” I said.
“Oh, will you look a-there!” She pointed to the back wall. “You can see the falls.”
There’d always been a window there, though not as impressive as my wall. But until I took over the shop, all the clutter of the non–ice cream and novelty items had distracted from the view.
“Aren’t you the savvy saleswoman,” she said, coming back to the counter.
“How’s that?” I asked, walking over to the cash register.
“I only came in to find out about the body you found.” She shook her head. “Horrible business.” Then she smiled at me. “And then you got me to buy ice cream at eleven o’clock in the morning with a foot of snow on the ground.” She handed me a five-dollar bill.
“I heard it might melt,” I said, knowing I hadn’t heard any such thing. I handed her her change and a coupon for her next visit.
“Well this won’t, I’m sure.” She held up her container and turned to head out the door. “It’ll be gone before that could ever happen. I probably should have bought two.”
“We’ll be here tomorrow. Come back. Use your coupon.”
“I might just do that,” she said, waving it in the air. “Oh!” she squealed before she made it out the door. I looked up at her just as she turned to me, eyes wide. “I thought that was a stuffed animal.” She pointed at Felice. “It just blinked.”
I laughed. “Meet Her Royal Highness Felice. All fluff, regal and real.”
“Oh my,” she laughed. “She scared me. But she’s a cutie! Thanks for the ice cream.” She held up her container again.
“You’re welcome,” I said. “Come back soon.”
“I will,” she said, and was out the door.
A Deadly Inside Scoop Page 7
