Sugar and Gold

by Brea Viragh

  Then they turned their attention in our direction.

  One of them, the elder of the two men, had been the one present when I’d made my statement. I flashed him a grin despite the frozen knot of tension dropping into my belly. At once a burp formed and threatened to burst free. I slapped the lid on it and strove for an open expression.

  “Don’t look now,” I whispered from the corner of my mouth. “But there are two cops standing in the doorway looking mighty interested in you.”

  Isaac swiveled to glance, then turned back to me. His jaw clenched and when he spoke, it was low. “I’ll try not to make a scene.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They’re here for me.”

  “Isaac Howard?” The call rang out across the coffee shop, designed to have all eyes turning to our direction. It worked.

  Isaac swung around with a sigh. “Yes, Officer?”

  I struggled to remember their names when they crossed to our table. Luckily, I didn’t have to think so hard. Two shiny nametags helped.

  “Officer Openfield. Sheriff Van Brier. What—”

  I was cut off at the bright flash of sun on metal as handcuffs appeared in the officer’s hands.

  Isaac offered no resistance when the two uniformed men muscled him to a standing position. “Mind if I ask what’s going on here?”

  “Seems you’re back to your old tricks, Mr. Howard,” Officer Openfield stated with forced politeness. “We had an anonymous call from a good Samaritan saying you’re the one behind the attacks on Miss Townsend. Said they saw you skulking away from the shop after she went down. Also had some interesting info about shots fired in the woods near her house. Now, we don’t have a warrant for your arrest—yet—but we want you to come down to the station for questioning, and it will help if you’ll come quietly. Or do I really need to use these?” He jingled the handcuffs for emphasis.

  My eyes widened. “What?”

  Reigning sheriff for the last five years, Van Brier smiled at me. The gesture was meant to look reassuring. “Don’t you worry, Miss Townsend. If our information is correct, he won’t be bothering you again for a good long while.”

  I stood open-mouthed and watched them take Isaac away. Isaac shot me a final look over his shoulder. He didn’t look surprised in the least when I remained silent.

  I HISSED AT THE KNOCK on my door before bringing Frank closer to my chest. Somewhere along the line, the damn dog had taken up residence in the bed to fill the blank space. It started as a scoot to the base of the footboard, a warmth at my feet. The next night he was on a blanket closest to my toes. The next, my knees. Now I brought him close and listened to the rhythmic beat of his heart in his tiny chest.

  The knocking came again, this time more insistent. “Whoever it is, go away!” I called out. The sound of my own voice sent a spasm of pain through my temples and I burrowed deeper into the pillow.

  Frank gave a single low growl and promptly went back to sleep.

  When the knocking came again, I had no choice but to throw back the covers, irritation scratching my insides.

  I opened the door and squinted against the sun. “What do you want?” I asked nastily.

  Shari raised a single brow and said little as she breezed past me. The air suddenly filled with the scent of dark roast coffee, my beautiful Joe, and fresh-baked muffins. “You know it’s Friday.”

  No, in fact, I’d managed to forget what day it was, considering all the drama of the week. A week of not working and my internal calendar was set to chaos. “I’m not in the mood for coffee.” Lies, all lies.

  “You’ll want it after you get a whiff of these muffins.”

  Closing the door behind her, I leaned against the wall and drew a breath, feeling a rattle in my chest. “I want to go back to bed.”

  “I came to check on you,” Shari insisted. She made herself at home, setting her items down on the kitchen table and removing cutlery from the drawer. “I was worried.”

  I followed after her on an exhale. Even the dim light filtering through the curtain shot shards of glass into my retinas. “Don’t be. There’s too much worry going around.”

  “Where is Isaac? Shouldn’t he be here?”

  My mood plummeted to the toilet. “No, he’s not here. He— No, he’s not.”

  Shari made a face. “Sorry to hear that. Hopefully he’s out being a productive member of society. The sooner he can get that pub open, the happier my stomach will be. Now sit down and enjoy the treats. I haven’t seen you since you decided to hermit-up and never leave the house.”

  Instead of doing what she asked, I took hold of the cup and walked back to my room, the ends of my robe trailing behind. She pounded down the hall after me. The beat of my heart matched the cadence of her feet and I jumped into bed an instant before Shari rounded the corner.

  “Not sure why you’re being a jerk today. Care to explain?”

  “I’m not a jerk. I’m exhausted. There’s a difference.” I refused to look at her, instead picking a vantage point out the window and keeping my gaze trained there. There was no way I wanted to tell her about the police questioning Isaac, although surely if he had been legally processed there would be a news bulletin out. His face splashed across the newspapers.

  “Sooner or later I’m going to pry the truth out of you. I’ve been trying to give you guys space, to work through whatever it is you need to work through, but the silence is killing me.” Shari took a seat next to me and pushed a quietly snarling Frank to the side. “Down, boy.”

  I gestured toward the bottle of aspirin sitting on the bedside table. Shari recognized the claw-like gesture and handed the item to me without further ado.

  “You’re a riot this morning,” she said dryly. “I’m glad I took the time to make your favorite cappuccino.”

  “I appreciate it, don’t get me wrong. Especially since you didn’t personally make it.” I unscrewed the cap and downed two blue pills before Shari had a moment to comment. “And I’ll be even funnier once these babies get to work.”

  “I’ve never seen you in such relations with your bed. Something must be on your mind. You never sit around doing nothing.” She gestured at Frank. “Not to mention the pooch.”

  “Leave me alone, Shar, I don’t want to talk about it. I feel like I’m bleeding between my ears from all the thinking I’ve been doing.”

  “The only bleeding you must have is between your legs, because you are being a raging bitch.”

  “You’re the bitch,” I answered petulantly. The pillows called my name and I fell back, letting the downy feathers absorb my weight.

  Shari settled next to me, the two of us staring at the swirls in the ceiling. She’d take no offense to my whining and moaning. At least, not for the next few minutes. Then it would be ass-kicking time. Mine, not hers. She wanted to know what was going on, why I hadn’t spoken to her or anyone else for the last two days. Why I hadn’t shown up at the shop with Isaac in tow.

  How could I tell her he’d been taken away practically in handcuffs?

  Seconds ticked by until I regained the ability to function like a normal human. “I’m not sure what to do anymore.”

  Shari exhaled sharply. “Welcome to life. I wish it was easier for you, but you know what they say. When you get to the bottom there’s no choice. You go up. Is this about the bakery?”

  “No, the opening will happen like we planned. Which dumps a whole other tactical mess on my lap. I think I want to spend the day in bed forgetting my problems.”

  “The chips are falling, girl,” Shari said sagely. Like I couldn’t feel them.

  Frank snuggled closer and I brought him against my torso. “Not in my favor, either.”

  “You don’t know for sure. Remember what I told you? Everything happens for a reason.”

  “No, I don’t recall you saying any such thing.”

  Shari gently tugged the cover away from my face, peering down the bridge of her nose at me. “Funny how your memory picks and chooses what
it wants to store. Now get out of bed.”

  I turned away and adopted a pouty expression. Feeling sorry for myself and wondering why I couldn’t make my legs move. Why I couldn’t get in the car and go down to the courthouse to explain the circumstances. “No.”

  “I’m not going to tell you again, woman. Get out of bed.” Red-tipped fingernails grabbed the edges of the blanket and pulled hard. The material slipped through my fingers and I grumbled at the sudden chill.

  Coffee sloshed. “Stop bossing me around.”

  Tug of war ensued, with Frank in the middle beginning his bark-fest. “It’s not like you have anywhere more important to be,” Shari argued. “You can come out with me for a little bit, keep me company while I do a few things in the back of the gallery.”

  “Why do you want me so badly?” I retorted. With a heave, I wrenched the blanket from her grip and it floated to the floor like broken wings on a moth. “I’m not the most enjoyable person to be with right now.”

  Shari let her hands drift into the air before dropping to her lap. “Because.”

  “Because why?”

  “Because I’m single again and I need someone to commiserate with me.” Tears filled her voice and she slouched, dark hair obscuring her face.

  The budding grin slipped from my face. “Oh, sweetie.”

  Shari shuffled toward me, falling into the open arms I offered. “I know. I’m stupid.”

  “You are not stupid,” I soothed. “Tell me what happened.”

  “Nothing spectacular. Boyfriend One found out about Boyfriend Two and dumped me. Boyfriend Two’s actual, legitimate girlfriend found out about me and dropped the ax. Certainly shocked me.”

  I shook her lightly. “You know better than to fool around with a taken man. Especially in a town this small, where everyone knows everyone else.”

  Her breath shuddered in her chest. “I didn’t know. It’s simple.”

  “Apparently not. What happened to Boyfriend One? Are you ever going to tell me his name?”

  Shari wiped her eyes with the back of her hand to ward off the tears, smudging her eyeliner in the process. “No. He’s history. Never wants to see me again.”

  I considered Shari’s ability to reel men in, the most practiced of fishermen. She would know exactly what to do about Isaac, instead of sitting here tearing in two. She would probably burst into the station and demand to see him, to put an end to whatever foolishness kept him away.

  Why couldn’t I make my legs move? A day and a half and I still couldn’t make them move.

  “It will all work out in the end. You do tell me that.” I was relieved to hear her laugh, even as short and soft as the sound came across.

  “I’m a quarter of a century old, Essie,” Shari said on an exhale. “When will I learn to grow up?”

  “There are some people who never learn. They go through their entire lives playing the field and acting foolish and don’t know how to get out of their own way. You’re not like that,” I told her. Frank shifted in my arms, a low moan escaping when he wiggled closer to Shari.

  “What if I am?” Shari retorted. “You never know.”

  Then she would keep me company. My mind circled back to the night of the first arrest. Yes, the first time around, when I’d been just as scared and frozen in place. Hesitant to move and breaking in half under the weight of what I’d done.

  The look Shari sent me was filled to the brim with misery. I couldn’t stifle the laugh bubbling up my throat. “Stop. You know as well as I do. One day you’ll meet a wonderful man and make all the babies you’ve dreamed about. Stop being stupid,” I said.

  “Now, wait a minute...”

  “I’ve been your friend long enough,” I fired back. “I’m allowed to call you names when you deserve them.”

  Although who deserved them more? Her, or me?

  “Then I must be allowed to push you out of bed and force you to come with me to the gallery.” Shari sniffled. “To help me feel better.”

  I groaned. “How will having a grumpy jerk around make you feel better? Ah, I get it,” I said dryly. “I’m worse off than you are.”

  “Not true. I want the company.”

  I considered the day ahead of me before letting my head drop back, sighing. “Fine. I’ll get dressed.”

  “We’ll take care of each other.” Shari sucked in a shaky breath. “Right, Essie?”

  I turned to stare at her, wondering what the hell was wrong with me, and felt the side of my mouth twitch. It wasn’t anywhere close to a smile, but it would have to do. Despite her forced optimism, I liked the idea.

  “Right, Shari. Always.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  A knock on the window drew my attention toward the front of the shop. Mrs. Blevins, wanting her weekly cookie fix, tapped a beat and motioned toward the doorknob.

  The frown fixed on my face wasn’t an act. “I’m sorry, sweetie, we’re closed for now.” I gestured toward the sign on the window notifying all clientele of our “permit change.” Lack of permit, more like. “Two more weeks.”

  It took a few minutes of convincing and a half-yelled conversation—hearing aid—before Mrs. Blevins left. Dissatisfied. She wasn’t the only one.

  With the mess cleaned up and the stations prepped for our long-anticipated reopening, I set about balancing the books. Numbers danced through my head, and in my mind I began to plan the grand reopening. I’d go with a summer theme: lemon blueberry tarts, white lace cookies, raspberry and chocolate cheesecake. A last ode to warmer weather before the cold set in. And cupcakes. Another one of Leda’s secret weapons that no one had seen before. Something to really knock the socks off of everyone coming through the door. Damn, I should have told Leda to get a plan together. Something sweet and light to contrast with the other bold flavors.

  My head wasn’t screwed on right anymore. It hadn’t been for a long time, and try as hard as I might to restore balance, it wasn’t working. After spending an hour with Shari at the art gallery, I’d finally mustered up the nerve to call the police station and ask about Isaac. Officer Van Brier had sounded like he would rather swallow glass than tell me about Isaac’s release—the same night they’d taken him in for questioning.

  And I hadn’t heard from him at all. Two days and not one peep.

  Focus, I admonished, whipping my gaze back to the books and trying to figure out if I could swing a new display case for the grand reopening. I added and subtracted, calculating the cost of stock and design. And smiled to myself when the ledger told me we were going to be okay. Everything would be okay.

  Wouldn’t it?

  Another knock sounded at the door and I almost tipped off my stool. I might have if I hadn’t reached out a hand to catch myself. “I’m sorry,” I called without looking. “We’re closed. There’s a sign posted on the window.”

  “You can’t make an exception for an old friend?”

  My head shot up as Trent stepped into the shop area. Had I forgotten to lock the door? He flashed a smile designed to make a woman’s knees buckle. I grinned in return. “Sorry, we’re fresh out of everything, or I’d make an exception for you,” I admitted. “We’ve been closed for so long I don’t have anything prepared. I’m sure I could get in real trouble for firing up the ovens.”

  Trent let a hand slip into his back pocket. “What about a treat from the freezer? I won’t tell anyone. It can be a gift.”

  “Trent, I wish I could help, but I can’t. You’ll have to go somewhere else, as much as it kills me to say it.”

  “I’m in the market for some sweets. What can I say?” He sauntered up to the counter, his eyes sweeping the showroom. He patted his midsection. “Your chocolate éclairs will be the death of me. I can’t seem to get enough. See this pooch? All your fault.”

  “Sorry, I’ve got nothing to offer you,” I answered dryly, gesturing toward the empty shelves. “But I’ll take the compliment. I’m not technically supposed to have the door unlocked, in case you got the wrong impression.”
I tapped my pen against the glass display case and slid the notebook into a drawer.

  “It’s fine, I wasn’t really expecting anything. I was just passing by and saw the light on, so I thought I’d stop and see how you’re doing. I know it’s been tough for you to stay closed this long.”

  “You said a mouthful.”

  Even as I packed up to leave, Trent was inspecting the place. Lifting an arm to knock against the cleared cupcake tower. “You make the most amazing goodies. No one else can hold a candle to you. I can’t wait until you’re open again. I know a handful of people from church who feel the same way. Even more so, now that you aren’t available. It’s amazing what going without will do to people. Makes them want it much, much more.”

  I started. “Maybe this will be good for business. I was worried I would lose clients, what with the health code violations and all.”

  “They know it’s nothing but bullshit. Don’t worry, Essie, your reputation is still sweet as ever.” Trent blew out a breath. “I’m meeting a few people for dinner in a little bit.” He leaned against the counter and upped his smile to the next wattage. “Do you want to join us?”

  “Thanks, Trent, but I’m really not in the mood. Plus, I have someone waiting at home.”

  Trent’s face darkened. “Howard.”

  With that kind of reaction, there was no way I wanted to see Trent’s face if I said he was right. Which, I realized with a flash of disappointment, he wasn’t. I kept my own smile tacked firmly in place. “No, my dog. Go easy there, stud. There’s no need for you to get so upset.”

  His emotions flipped and I was back to looking at the charismatic playboy I knew so well. It had been one of my issues with him during our short attempt at dating. “Don’t worry. I’ve never let my temper get the better of me. Remember? There was the time I—”

  “Trust me, I remember,” I interrupted. “Didn’t stop me from wanting to go out with you.”

  He winked. “You know I made you want to sigh and fall into my arms.”

  I placed a hand on my heart, lashes fluttering in my best Southern belle imitation. “My goodness, Mr. Zacklin, you are simply too much for me. You’ll sweep me right off my feet if I’m not careful.”