“Thank you.” I meant it. Relief filled me. I could have my life back. “So I’m no longer a person of interest?”
He winced. “They have no evidence to link you, but you’re still their number one suspect.”
I sighed. “I didn’t do it.” I swiped the clean counter with a clean dishrag.
“I know you didn’t.” Brad stepped in close, leaning against the counter. I could feel the heat from his body even though he didn’t actually touch me. It had a strange, comforting effect, causing me to blink back the tears I didn’t even know I was holding onto.
“If they still think I did this, then why give me my computer back?”
I looked into his eyes. The corners of his mouth lifted. “I pushed. I told them unless they had hard evidence, you would sue them for defamation of character and harm to your business. I imagine I was pretty convincing.”
I think my heart rolled over in my chest. God, he made a good Prince Charming—if only I still believed. I hid my emotions by staring down at the dishcloth in my hands and inhaled. There was something wonderful about expensive clothes that smelled of starch, good cologne, and warm male. “Thank you.”
“You haven’t gotten my bill yet.”
That made me laugh. I looked back up and my heart skipped a beat. There was that moment—that awkward moment when you thought a man wanted to kiss you.
I stepped back and tried to be professional. It was hard because I think I might have kissed him. If he weren’t my lawyer. If things were different. I glanced at the clock. “Bill or no bill, thanks. More than half my business is online. It’s been eating up a lot of time running to Tasha’s inn to use her computer.”
“Toni.”
“Hmm?” I was double-checking the platters and trying to get my nerves back under control.
“When this is over, I’d like to take you out to dinner.”
That got my attention. My head whipped around fast. It took a second for my eyes to catch up. “Excuse me?”
He crossed his arms and sent me a sexy half grin. “When this is over, and you no longer need me to be your lawyer, I’d like to take you to dinner.”
“Oh.” It’s all I could get out of my mouth. I opened and closed it several times like a fish out of water. What a sight that must have been.
His grin grew larger. “Yes, I’m single. I know you’re single. And I’m interested, Toni. Are you interested?”
In dating the high school hottie who only got better with age? Duh. I kept blinking like a sleepy-eyed doll. While a tiny voice in my head said no, no dating, an even louder buzzing drowned it out.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said with the confidence of a male who knows where he stands.
“Um, Boss?” Meghan popped her head into the kitchen. “Ms. Williams from the chamber of commerce said to tell you everyone’s here and you need to get out there so they can begin the memorial.”
“Gotta go.” I did something ridiculous, like pat Brad on his beefy arm, then grabbed my coat and headed outside.
“Everyone needs a candle.” Sherry handed me a small white candle with a paper drip catch. She gave one to Meghan, too.
I saw Tasha and Craig and stood beside them, far from Brad. “I’m glad you’re here. I hope you didn’t push things on my account.”
“I didn’t. Besides, I felt I should be here to support you during this weird thing,” Tasha whispered.
“Thanks.”
“Here, light your candle on mine.” She touched her flame to my wick. The candle burst into light, and I noticed Grandma Ruth and Bill on the other side of the crowd.
If you could call it a crowd; there were maybe ten or fifteen people in attendance including me, Meghan, Tasha, Craig, Grandma Ruth, and Bill. Then there was Sherry and her friends from the chamber of commerce.
“There’ll be plenty of food,” I muttered.
“How many people did Sherry tell you to plan for?” Tasha whispered.
Sherry had started the memorial by introducing Reverend Jones from the Baptist church George had attended.
“I made enough for fifty.” I leaned toward Tasha and kept my voice low.
“The chamber will be eating petit fours and cookies for a week.” Tasha giggled and the reverend glared at us.
I bit my lower lip to keep from laughing and started checking out exactly who else was in attendance. If Tasha was right, the killer would be here.
There was Rocky Rhode in the back, flashing pictures. The shots were for the newspaper, I supposed. Great, yet another front-page photo of my bakery. Beside him was Candy with her reporter’s notebook in hand, and Mike Smith. I guess Mike was here to thank George for the bump in newspaper sales. Then there was Ralph, Craig’s brother, standing in the back with his hands in his pockets, looking cold and uncomfortable. He must have either arrived late or refused the candle. Personally I was glad for the candle, as the soft flame warmed my hands.
“Please bow your heads for a moment of silence,” the reverend intoned.
I bowed but kept my gaze on the crowd. There was Ed Bruner from the bank standing near Bill and Grandma Ruth. Todd Woles from the men’s shop stood near another very well-dressed man. If I were to hazard a guess, I’d label the other man as Todd’s boyfriend. Their shoulders touched and their eyes glistened. Were they tears of sadness or relief? Why go to a memorial for a man you had a restraining order against?
Then there was Brad; Amy, his secretary; Chief Blaylock, and Officer Emry. If I counted the chamber members, there were maybe twenty or more in attendance.
“Thank you. Now, if anyone would like to say any words about George, now would be a wonderful time to share.” The reverend looked into the crowd and suddenly people’s gazes were on the ground, across the street, or on the person next to them. “Anyone? Sherry?”
Sherry smiled her pageant smile and stepped forward. “Of course, Reverend, I would like to say I didn’t know George very well, but my mother did go to school with his mother and I couldn’t let this tragedy go by without some kind of memorial to mark George’s life in our community. George was an outspoken member of our community who had strong opinions and kept to them.”
I glanced at Grandma Ruth and raised my right eyebrow. She shrugged and grinned at me.
“Outspokenness should be cherished in a democratic society,” Sherry went on. “But outspokenness should go hand in hand with an open mind and forgiveness, which is why we are having this service tonight. Unfortunately, George seemed to have had a few troubles in his life and, right or wrong, he took them out on others. But all is forgiven, and we stand here tonight remembering the goodness of George and his family and all the things they did to help our community. Thank you, George. God bless you, wherever you are.”
Silence covered the crowd like a thick blanket. Sherry smiled her pageant smile. “Reverend Jones will say a final prayer, and then Toni Holmes will speak.”
My head whipped around and my mouth fell open. Sherry smiled at me as if I knew exactly what I was supposed to say.
“Bow your heads and pray for God’s blessings,” Reverend Jones started. Sherry bowed her head and Tasha elbowed me until I did the same. The reverend droned on about the shortness of life and how man is dust and to dust we shall return. When he was done, he said a prayer.
The sound of my heartbeat in my ears drowned out the prayer. What exactly was Sherry up to? What was I supposed to say? Tasha elbowed me again and handed me a small note card. I took the card. There, in Sherry’s neat high school printing, was a small statement. I glanced from the card to Sherry.
“And now, Ms. Holmes,” the reverend said. Tasha took my candle and pushed me toward the front. Reverend Jones handed me the microphone.
“Hello.” The mic squawked with feedback. I swallowed hard and read from the card. “Thank you all for coming and honoring a member of our community.” I took a deep breath and pressed on. “His tragic death will never be forgotten. Please come inside the bakery for fellowship and shared memori
es. Coffee and treats are provided courtesy of the Oiltop Chamber of Commerce.” I waved my hand toward Sherry and Alisa. “Thank you.”
And it was over. I handed the microphone to Sherry, and saw that Meghan had slipped inside the bakery to help pass out cups of coffee and hot cocoa and point people toward the platters.
“I think that went very well,” Sherry said. “Don’t you?”
I flattened my mouth. “Sure, if you say so.”
“Shall we go inside and get warm?”
I stepped into the warmth of my bakery, plastered on my happy sales face, and tried to ignore the weirdness that was the memorial for a guy who had been killed while vandalizing my shop. I grabbed a platter and passed it around. “Petit four? They’re chocolate and raspberry. And, yes, they are entirely gluten-free. Perfect for anyone with celiac, children with allergies, and the elderly whose systems are sensitive.”
“Toni, smile for the camera,” Rocky said. I paused next to Todd and his friend and gave my best party smile. The camera clicked and the bulb popped. “Thanks, this will look good on the front page.”
Rocky moved on as people ate, shared stories, and drank my coffee. And deep inside, I couldn’t help wondering if there was a killer in our midst.
CHAPTER 22
"You should tell Chief Blaylock your theory,” Tasha said as she gobbled up another petit four.
“I don’t have any evidence.” I kept my gaze on Ed. He looked like a normal guy in his late forties: a bit round, a bit wrinkled, and still combing over a few long hairs in the misguided hope no one would notice he was balding.
“There’s more to your theory than what the cops have on you,” Tasha pointed out.
“What theory is this?” Chief Blaylock came up, snagged a couple of the little cakes, and balanced them carefully on his full plate.
“Nothing, really.” I shook my head.
“She suspects Ed Bruner of killing George Meister,” Tasha said. I widened my eyes at her, flattened my mouth, and slightly shook my head. She refused to stop. “You see, Ed foreclosed on George’s property last month and set up an auction for next Saturday.”
“Yes, I know.” The chief popped a petit four into his mouth. “These are really good.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I cater weddings, birthdays, anniversaries . . .”
“And funerals, obviously.” Craig stepped in and took a couple of cakes from the plate.
“I was telling Chief Blaylock about Toni’s theory of who killed George.”
“It’s really not a theory,” I protested.
“Chief, did you know that when Ed had a couple of interested buyers come tour George’s place, George sued the bank? I think it was for more time. George said all he needed was time and he could be caught up on payments, but Ed had buyers who weren’t willing to wait.”
“Seriously.” The chief raised an eyebrow. “You think Ed killed George?”
“Yes,” Tasha said in a stage whisper. “You see, George was killed by a blow to the head with a mysterious blunt instrument.”
The chief narrowed his eyes. “How do you know that?”
“It’s a small town,” Tasha said “Everyone knows. And Toni figured out what the blunt instrument was.”
“No, I did not. More cake?” I rolled my eyes at Tasha to get her to stop. For goodness’ sake, the last thing I needed was for the police to think I had killed George because I had a theory about the bank deposit bags.
“You know what killed George?” Craig asked.
“No, I don’t.” I looked around to see if I could excuse myself before I got into more hot water.
“Oh, she’s being modest.” Tasha patted my arm. “She thinks it was a full bank deposit bag. Those things are heavy if you had a day with a lot of change, or are a banker and fill it with rolls of quarters.”
The chief stared at me and narrowed his eyes. I felt the heat of a blush rush up my neck. I had to say something. “I merely mentioned how heavy a bank deposit bag was when it was full. Grandma Ruth said that is how they tried to kill the Greek in the classic novel The Postman Always Rings Twice.”
“It’s ingenious, really,” Tasha gushed. “I mean, wham! with the bank bag, then wipe it off and make your deposit. The bag gets emptied and the actual ‘weapon’ is gone.”
The chief swallowed his cake and took a sip of coffee. I could hear his mind working. Or, as my dad would say, he could smell the wood burning.
“So, you see,” Tasha continued, “Ed had motive and means. Plus, did you know there is access to the sewer system from the bank’s basement? What better place to get rid of evidence, like bloody clothes and junk.”
Craig’s head bobbed from Tasha to me and back as the story unfolded. I swallowed hard and waited for the chief to slap the cuffs on me.
“Huh,” Chief Blaylock said. “Perhaps I should go talk to Ed.”
“Even better, you should check all the bank deposit bags for evidence.” Tasha’s eyes were wide. “I bet you’ll find a bag with George’s blood on it.”
“Ew,” I said out loud. “One of the new bags I get tomorrow might have blood on it?” I hadn’t quite thought the whole theory out. “I mean, I doubt Ed steam-cleans the bags before he distributes them.”
“Excuse me, won’t you?” The chief put his plate on the empty platter I still held and moved off toward Ed.
“I can’t believe you did that,” I scolded Tasha.
“What do you mean? I saved you from being charged.”
“Or got me convicted,” I stage-whispered, my gaze not leaving Chief Blaylock’s wide back. “If Ed has an alibi, then the chief will think I’m really guilty since I know what the murder weapon is.”
“Oh.” Tasha scrunched up her forehead then wrinkled her nose. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Sounds to me like Ed has more to worry about than you do.” Craig patted me on the back. He paused. “If it was a bank deposit bag, do you think they can link it to anyone in particular?”
“I don’t know.” I tilted my head. “As far as I know, the bags aren’t numbered or checked out. I mean, it’s sort of an honor system, isn’t it? You get six bags and return six bags.”
“Too bad.” Craig sipped his coffee. “It would be cool if they could link the bag to the killer.”
“We don’t even know if George was killed by a bank bag. Grandma Ruth said it could be any weapon at hand, which means anything from a rock to a cane to a baseball bat.” I tried to bring some sanity back to the discussion.
“The good news is they didn’t find anything in your shop.” Tasha sipped her coffee and glanced around. “They have no evidence to link you, either.”
“Thank goodness.”
“You know,” Tasha said, “Todd Woles would have access to a bank bag. Wouldn’t he?”
“All the businesses on Main get bank deposit bags,” Craig said.
“Did you see Todd was here with his . . . friend? Why would they come to the memorial but not even bother to come in for refreshments?” Tasha sipped her drink.
“I have no idea.” I noticed some people leaving. “Have a good night, folks, and remember to stop by the bakery for the best coffee and pastries in town,” I called after them. I mean, the whole point of the reception was to drum up new customers. Right?
“Oh, good news.” I put my hand on Tasha’s arm. “Brad says I can pick up my computer stuff from the police station in the morning. Thanks for letting me borrow yours this past week. You’re a lifesaver.”
“Are you no longer a suspect?” Craig asked.
“No.” I gave a short shake of my head. “It simply means Brad’s a good lawyer. He threatened them with legal action if I didn’t get my stuff back. After all, it is my livelihood.” I noticed Tasha flagging me down. “Gotta go, see you at dinner.”
The reception had only lasted a little over an hour. Meghan and I boxed up the remainders and sent them home with Sherry and Alisa. I locked the front and turned to find Meghan grinning at me. “That was i
nteresting,” I said.
“My first catering gig.” She pulled out the last of the trays from the display case. “You actually sold three pies, two cakes, and a couple dozen cookies.”
“That’s a perk of hosting at the bakery.” I hit the switch and turned off the music. Meghan had cleaned the front as people left. The only thing left to do was prep work for the morning. I checked the clock; I had less than a half an hour before I was supposed to be at Tasha’s dinner party.
Meghan towel-dried the last of the dishes. “What do you do with the day-old pies and cookies?”
“I take them to the food pantry.” I took off my white apron and hung it on the coat rack. “If the bakery really gets going, I might be able to sell discounted day-olds. But right now people are suspicious of gluten-free food, so I have to be sure everything is as fresh as possible.”
“Cool.” Meghan took off her apron and hung it up. “Do you need anything else?”
“No, I’m good. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
“See ya.” Meghan put on her coat and walked out the back door.
“Hey,” I said as a thought occurred to me.
“Yeah?”
“Do you have an escort? It’s dark out there.”
Meghan’s eyes flashed and she laughed. “It’s because of the dead guy, right?”
“That and someone shot out the back light and spray painted the back door this morning.”
“Jesus.” Meghan’s eyes grew wide.
“Don’t worry, it’ll pass. But I think you shouldn’t go out there alone at least for a while.”
“My bike is parked out back.” Meghan pointed toward the door.
“Hang on, I’ll go with you.” I grabbed my coat and purse and walked out. I set the alarm and locked the door, then I walked to where she’d locked her bicycle to the single street-lamp, which lighted the back parking area.
I shivered and glanced around as she unlocked her bike. “Listen, why don’t you toss it in the back of the van and I’ll give you a ride home. Okay?”
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