A Spoonful of Murder

by Connie Archer

  Times had been tough in recent years, not just in Snowflake but in other towns as well. Many had lost promising jobs when the biofuel plant in a nearby town closed down. Other small businesses had suffered a similar fate, if not closing then compelled to reduce their workforce. Some residents had lost their homes to foreclosure. Her parents had been feeding people who couldn’t pay. It was the only explanation. The restaurant was filled to capacity almost every day. Even allowing for expenses and perishable food, there should have been a much greater profit.

  She heaved a sigh and slumped down in the cracked leather desk chair, large enough for her Dad’s frame. She had a big heart, but the Spoonful needed more of a cushion. One unforeseen plumbing emergency or equipment malfunction and they’d be underwater. Lucky cringed at the thought of pressuring customers for money owed, yet this was no way to run a business. There had to be a limit. Several people owed more than a thousand dollars. Was there a discreet way to remind them to pay their IOUs? She had no wish to embarrass anyone, but it galled her to think how her parents struggled after being so generous to others who were down on their luck. Perhaps a friendly reminder through the mail? But that would necessitate hours of going through these receipts, deciphering names and sorting out who owed how much. Perhaps the best thing would be to do nothing, but put a stop to the practice. She’d have to talk with Jack to make sure this didn’t continue.

  Lucky bundled up the receipts in rubber bands and returned the envelope to the file drawer. Perhaps Jack could tell her why her parents had made no effort to collect these debts. A low level of anxiety fluttered in her stomach. She hadn’t had a chance to delve into her parents’ personal finances, but she’d have to do so soon. The value of their house would have fallen, but surely it would still have a great deal of equity—they had bought it more than twenty years before. She’d find out soon enough when she talked to their accountant and the Realtor. Hopefully, they hadn’t borrowed against their home to keep the business afloat. She leaned over, laid her forehead on her hands and closed her eyes for a moment. It all seemed overwhelming. She quelled the fear and reminded herself to take one step at a time.

  Heavy footsteps reverberated down the corridor, past the office door. Then two male voices, one loud, the other quiet but insistent. The commotion brought her back to the present. She couldn’t make out the words, but from the tone, an argument was taking place. One man was doing his best to keep the other quiet. It wasn’t Jack—she would have recognized his voice. She pushed herself out of the chair and, opening the door quietly, stepped into the corridor. Sage was at the kitchen door with a stranger who wore a down parka that had seen better days. Realizing they were no longer alone, Sage quickly shoved a small roll of cash into the stranger’s hand. The man in the ragged parka looked over his shoulder. His face was wolflike, his expression angry.

  “Hi, boss,” Sage responded to her curious look.

  “Everything all right?”

  “Oh, sure. My brother just stopped by. Remy, this is my boss, Lucky Jamieson.” Remy’s face instantly shifted to a disarming smile. The resemblance to Sage was striking, but this was an unkempt, rakish version of Sage. Lucky was sure they’d been arguing about money and Sage had been pressured to provide some.

  “Nice to meet you, Remy.”

  “Likewise.” When he smiled, his face lit up, the earlier anger vanishing.

  Charming, Lucky thought. Charming but completely slippery was the phrase that occurred to her.

  Lucky scooted past them and headed down the corridor to the restaurant. Jack was closing out the cash register and slipping bills into a zippered bag for deposit at the bank. Janie and Meg had their coats on and were giggling over a tube of lipstick in front of the mirror near the door. Jack looked up when he had finished counting. “I can stay and lock up if you want to head home.”

  “No, I’m fine, Jack. You go. You’ve had a long day. I just needed some time to concentrate on the books. By the way, there’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”

  “What’s that, my girl?”

  Lucky looked at Jack closely. His face was pale and his shoulders were stooped. He seemed exhausted. “You know what, it’s not an emergency. We can catch up tomorrow.” Lucky kissed Jack on the cheek and watched him as he headed down the corridor to the coat closet. Janie and Meg were whispering heatedly between themselves. When they noticed Lucky watching them, they scooted into the corridor and stood by the kitchen door.

  “Hey, Sage. Need some help?” Janie called out. Meg hung back, a slow flush creeping up her cheeks.

  Sage muttered from the kitchen, “Nah, I’m fine.”

  Lucky closed the cash register, locked the door and turned off the lamps and neon sign. She returned to the office and stuffed the cash bag into her purse. Sage waved good night to her as he passed by her door, Janie and Meg following in his wake. As the girls walked through the door to the parking lot, following Sage, Janie gave Meg a shove in his direction.

  Lucky smiled and shook her head. Somebody has a big crush, she thought. But I’m hardly one to poke fun. When I see Elias, I can barely string a sentence together.

  Chapter 6

  LUCKY DIPPED HER roller into the paint tray and carefully spread the last coat over the remaining wall. When she finished, she stepped back to admire her handiwork. What a difference some color made. Outside, the wind blew in short, angry gusts and ice crystals formed a thick layer of frost on the windows. But inside, the pumpkin-colored walls made it easy to forget the harsh winter. She pulled off the soggy roller and tossed it in the wastebasket, washed out the paint tray and stripped off her gloves. It was finally finished. Lucky had worked every night after coming home from the restaurant, one wall at a time. She gathered up the plastic on the floor and pulled the protective tape off the wainscoting.

  When all the mess was disposed of, she collapsed in a kitchen chair, imagining her pictures and her mother’s dishes and pots and pans here. If only her mother could be here to see her new place. She could picture her reaction but quickly pushed the image away. Too painful. Too fresh. She had considered moving into her parents’ home, but feeling overwhelmed with the business, it seemed impossible to take over a house with all its chores, not to mention a mortgage. Selling was the best thing to do. Maybe she’d keep some larger pieces of furniture, and her mother’s delightful blue handmade pottery dishes, but the rest she could happily donate to charity. Very soon she’d have to go through their house and make those decisions, but she’d wait until she felt a bit more stable.

  Lucky touched the nose of her kitchen witch for good luck and headed to the bedroom, stripping off her painting clothes. She slipped into her pajamas and climbed under the covers. Mentally, she reviewed the next day’s chores as she started to drift off to sleep. The first thing was to get to the bank to deposit the cash. A jolt ran up her spine. The cash! Where was it? Dear Lord, she had left the cash bag on the desk in the office. How could she be so forgetful? She’d have to return to the Spoonful and get it. It wouldn’t be safe to leave it lying in the open like that. Then she thought, Why not leave it? Only she, Jack and Sage had keys. It wasn’t as if crime in the little town of Snowflake was a problem, but what if…

  She groaned and rose from the bed, dressing again for the outdoors. If she hurried, she could get to the restaurant and back to her bed in half an hour. She put her jacket on over her pajamas, slipped on boots and gloves and pulled a cap over her head.

  The streets were deserted. It was almost midnight, and given the freezing temperatures, most everyone was in bed. She turned the corner on Broadway and heard laughter and music from the Snowflake Pub as she passed by. Streetlights were swaying in the wind. She hunched deeper into her coat and kept going, not anxious to run into anyone while she was wearing pajamas. When she approached the Spoonful, she ducked down the narrow alley leading to the back. She unlocked the door and hurried into the office, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw the cash bag sitting on the desk. How could she
be so careless? Losing this money would hurt them terribly.

  Lucky stuffed the bag into her purse and locked the back door as she left. She retraced her steps, but this time as she approached the Pub she noticed two dark figures in a doorway ahead of her. Was someone lying in wait? Conscious of the large amount of cash in her purse, she hesitated and came to a halt. Perhaps she should cross the street and avoid whoever was in her way. Before she could make a decision, the shadows moved, revealing two figures. A woman’s voice carried clearly in the chill night air.

  “What did she mean?”

  A man replied. “I have no idea! I swear.”

  “Then why would she say that about you?”

  “I told you—she has it in for me. I told you…”

  “Yeah—your version…”

  The voices were familiar. They were crystal clear, even though the two figures were at the end of the block. It was Sophie and Sage. They must have come from the Pub. She couldn’t imagine where else—every other business was long closed. They still hadn’t seen her. She didn’t want Sophie to know she had overheard her argument with Sage. Sophie would not take it well. Before she could cross to the other side of the street, the figures turned toward her, walking briskly in her direction. She had hesitated too long. If she crossed now, it would be obvious she was trying to avoid them. Sophie recognized her first. Her head cocked, as if unsure how much Lucky had heard.

  “Here you are again! You seem to be everywhere these days, Lucky. Always lurking.”

  Sage’s hand was on Sophie’s shoulder. Lucky noticed that he squeezed it slightly, as if to silence her. Sophie wriggled her shoulder free from Sage’s grasp. His expression was tight and closed down.

  “Hello, Sophie—Sage.”

  “Hey, boss,” Sage replied.

  Sophie skirted around Lucky, dragging Sage by the hand. “See you around,” she shot over her shoulder at Lucky. They continued walking toward an SUV parked at the corner. Lucky turned away and hurried back to Maple Street and her apartment, chagrined that she hadn’t managed to avoid yet another confrontation with Sophie.

  What were they arguing about? Who was the “she” Sophie had mentioned? What was it Sage said? She had it in for me? Could he have been talking about her—Lucky? No, that couldn’t be. They must be talking about someone else, because Sophie had replied, Why would she say that about you? Lucky had certainly never spoken about Sage to Sophie.

  Lucky breathed a sigh of relief when she reached the entrance to her building. Sophie’s friendship had been so important to her when they were young. An only child, she had never felt able to fit in with other kids. She envied her classmates who lived in big, noisy families. It was Sophie, outgoing and brash, who befriended her and made her feel one of the crowd. Sophie’s behavior now didn’t surprise her at all. There was nothing new about it, but it was disheartening to be away for so many years and return to find that Sophie still harbored the same old animosity toward her. Was it so terrible that she had yearned for something different and taken a chance? She shrugged off the feeling. If Sophie couldn’t let go, so be it. She had every right to be walking the streets at midnight if she felt like it—even in her pajamas. It was just that Sophie—and Sage too—could be so intimidating. She suspected neither of them liked her very much at all.

  Chapter 7

  LUCKY PICKED UP two soup and bread bowl orders from the kitchen hatch and placed them on the service area at the end of the counter. Janie grabbed the plates and whisked them to her waiting customers. Lucky glanced down at her hands. A few stubborn speckles of paint remained on her fingernails from the night before. She quickly washed her hands at the small sink behind the counter, scrubbing with a stiff brush until her hands were completely clean. When she turned back, Elias was seated on a stool, smiling in her direction. She hadn’t seen him arrive. Her heart beat a little faster. Several days had elapsed since she had slipped on the ice in front of the Clinic. Every day since then she had wondered when she might see him again. Today he wore a dark green jacket. A soft plaid scarf hung around his neck. Lucky smiled in response and nervously pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. This was the second time Elias had caught her unaware, although this was a far less embarrassing situation.

  Cecily, sipping tea at the counter, glanced up sharply and then craned her neck to look at Elias. Lucky was sure Cecily had picked up on her nervousness. She cursed herself for having a complexion that betrayed every emotion. She took a deep breath and approached him.

  “What can I get you?”

  “How ’bout a bowl of chili and half a BLT, please, miss.” Elias smiled provocatively.

  “Coming right up.” Lucky ignored his smile and placed the order on the clip above the kitchen hatch. There were nervous flutters in her chest as she turned back to him.

  “On your way to the Clinic?”

  “Yes. But we might close early tonight. Have you seen the weather report? There’s a bad storm blowing down from Canada. Supposed to bring high winds and three more feet of snow.”

  Lucky nodded in response. It didn’t surprise her. Thick white clouds had turned dark gray, blotting out the sun. The wind had picked up and the snowflake lights shivered and wriggled on the lampposts. The barometer was dropping.

  The bell over the door rang as Susanna Edgerton, the wife of the Snowflake Chief of Police, rushed in. Her cheeks were bright red and almost matched the scarf around her neck. She was carrying a small tote bag and quickly grabbed a stool next to Marjorie.

  “Ladies.” She nodded in the direction of the sisters. “My, it’s really getting cold out there.”

  “What can I get you, Susanna?” Lucky asked.

  “I’d love a bowl of that wild mushroom soup if you have any today.”

  “We sure do. You’ve been out doing errands?”

  “Yes. I needed to pick up my prescription at Flagg’s and a few other things, but I’m heading home after this and waiting out the storm. I just hope we don’t lose power.”

  Lucky stuck a slip for Susanna’s order on the clip, and Sage reached out and grabbed it. She picked up Elias’s order and carried it to him.

  The door flew open once again, and a blast of cold air hit Lucky. She shivered. It was Patricia Honeywell, the blonde who arrived almost every day. Several heads turned to stare. Elias looked up and returned to his chili. Susanna, Marjorie and Cecily exchanged looks and fell silent.

  The tall blonde woman had called her order in this time, and it was waiting on the counter. Lucky carried the heavy paper bag straight to the cash register.

  “Thank you, dear,” the blonde replied, and dropped a twenty-dollar bill on the counter, several dollars over and above the cost of her meal. Jack made change, but before he could hand it to her, she turned and walked out the door. Jack raised his eyebrows and shrugged, putting her change into the tip jar. Lucky returned to the counter and refilled Elias’s coffee.

  He looked up and smiled. “So, how’s your schedule this week?”

  Lucky couldn’t believe her ears. Was he referring to the promised dinner? Was he really asking her to dinner in front of the biggest gossips in Snowflake? She was dumbstruck.

  “Uh, well…” She decided that perhaps it was best to treat this lightly. “You know how busy my social life is. I’ll have to check my calendar,” she said, all the time wishing he had picked a more private place to speak to her. Lucky glanced quickly at Marjorie and Cecily. They were staring unabashedly.

  “How about Friday? I’ll pick you up here if you like.”

  Lucky knew without checking the mirror that she was blushing. “Oh, no need. I’ll come over about seven thirty.”

  “Great,” Elias replied, taking a last sip of coffee. “I can pick up some groceries and get cooking early. See you then.”

  Lucky struggled to hide the foolish grin spreading over her face. “That’s so kind of you to offer to cook for me.”

  “Kind? “Kind” sounds rather boring—like something a doddering aunt might do.
I certainly hope my company’s more exciting than that.” When Elias smiled, dimples formed on his chin. “Sorry I have to rush off. I need to get back to the Clinic. Jon’s anxious to get home.”

  “Jon?” Lucky was momentarily confused.

  “Jonathan Starkfield—my partner at the Clinic. Oh, I forgot. You’ve probably never met him. When Dr. Stevens retired, Jon joined the practice. You’ll have to stop over sometime and I’ll introduce you. He’s a family specialist as well. Great guy. Been in practice many years—lots of experience.” Elias placed some bills on the counter, rose and waved as he went out the door.

  Lucky felt she could breathe again. She hadn’t forgotten Elias’s invitation. To tell the truth, it had been on her mind since the day she had slipped on the ice. Part of her had pushed the idea away, too afraid it was something offered in the moment and not genuine at all. She half expected that when she saw him next, he would have forgotten. She mentally shook herself. He’s just being nice because you’re an orphan now. He wants to make you feel at home, as if you have connections again. Keep it together. Don’t let a schoolgirl crush put ideas in your head, she told herself fiercely.

  Lucky carried Susanna’s order to her and busied herself picking up dishes and wiping down the counter, studiously avoiding the stares of the ladies. When they realized Lucky was not about to join them, they returned to their conversation. Lucky knew her dinner date with Elias was now grist for the gossip mill.