Candy Crush

by Tami Lund

  “I meant, think about the ramifications. What happens afterward?”

  “We do it again?” he suggested hopefully.

  “And then?”

  “Again?”

  Gabriella made an exasperated sound. “And then when we’re both sated and we’ve had our fill, then what?”

  “Okay, first and foremost, I do not anticipate we will have our fill of each other any time soon. Second, I see where you’re going with this and I don’t understand why you have to go there. You said yourself you weren’t interested in marriage when Miguel proposed, or whatever the hell you want to call what he did.”

  “I wasn’t interested in marrying Miguel. I didn’t say I didn’t want to get married ever.”

  “Oh.”

  Gabriella watched as Brandon’s expression shut down right before her eyes. Well, she thought irritably, if she ever wanted to push him away, she simply had to utter the word marriage. She abruptly stood up.

  “I’m going to bed.” When she was at the foot of the stairs, Brandon called out to her. She turned to look at him.

  “Thank you for telling me, Gabriella. Your secrets are safe with me.” He said it so softly, she could barely hear him. When he didn’t say anything else, she turned and walked up the stairs, Butter on her heels.

  Whether for better or worse, she knew without a doubt that their relationship, whatever it had been, was now inexplicably changed.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Gabriella woke up shortly after seven on Friday morning and lay in bed, taking in the unnaturally quiet state of the house. She wondered where Brandon was, and then she remembered he said he had to go to Detroit today. He hadn’t mentioned what time he was leaving, but he did say it was about an hour and a half drive. If his meeting started at eight, he would be long gone by now.

  She climbed out of bed, pulled on a pair of socks and went to the bathroom. Butter greeted her when she opened the bedroom door. She assumed Brandon let the dog outside before he left this morning.

  The first thing she noticed when she padded downstairs was the laundry basket sitting on the couch, filled with her dry and neatly folded clothes. She mentally slapped herself because she forgot to throw them into the dryer before she went to bed last night. And Brandon had remembered. Not only remembered, but he pulled them out and folded them too.

  Damn, he was too nice for her own good. She touched a pair of black lace panties and decided he wasn’t necessarily that nice. Knowing him, he’d probably folded them just so he could touch her underwear.

  She walked into the kitchen and spotted the note propped up against the coffee pot:

  Sweet Pea – coffee’s ready, just turn the pot on. I should be back between five and six. I hope you remembered to cancel with Jared, because we are double dating with Nicole and Anthony tonight. B.

  Gabriella turned on the coffee pot and tried not to be annoyed. First of all, he was still calling her Sweet Pea, which she figured was a sign he wasn’t angry with her after last night. It probably also meant he hadn’t given up hope that they might still end up sleeping together.

  One didn’t call their friend a nickname like Sweet Pea. Nor do they go on double dates with just a friend.

  The most annoying part of all was that Gabriella realized she was pleased that he hadn’t given up hope. Damn it. When the coffee was ready, she poured a cup and went back upstairs to take a shower, now more annoyed with herself than with Brandon.

  An hour later, she and Butter walked to the candy store. The temperature felt significantly warmer than it had since she arrived on Tuesday. Brandon had commented yesterday that the weekend was supposed to be gorgeous. He called it Indian Summer.

  Gabriella told him that in Texas they had two seasons: hot and not-quite-as-hot. Brandon had made a face and said he couldn’t possibly live in a place that didn’t have fall or winter.

  The first thing Gabriella did when she arrived at the candy store was peel the butcher paper off the windows and door. Sunlight streamed inside, instantly warming the feel of the place. Even though it was bare, the store was clean, and neatly arranged. The bright sunlight reiterated the work she had already put into the store. It was definitely coming together.

  When she went to the store for the rest of her supplies, she would need to find a sign shop and order something that looking professional and proclaimed the store was under new management and would be opening soon. That should start to get people excited about the prospect of a new business on Main Street.

  It occurred to her that she didn’t know where anything was located in this town, other than the shops within the three-block radius that comprised the historic downtown district. Since they would be working on the store all day on Saturday, maybe on Sunday she could talk Brandon into driving her around, showing her where the necessary businesses were located. She needed to find a grocery store, dry cleaner, gas station… She mentally continued her list as she stepped outside onto the sidewalk and looked down at the two half barrels that flanked the front door of the candy store.

  She tugged on one of the plants and grey dirt crumbled away as it broke free of the surface. She frowned and stuck her hand in the dirt. Since Miguel had put her in charge of overseeing the landscaping at his house, she had learned a thing or two about the art. She also truly enjoyed gardening. It had become one of her few respites when she was particularly upset about her lot in life, while she was living with Miguel.

  Because of this experience, she knew, without a doubt, that the soil in these half barrels was the reason nothing but the hardiest weeds were growing.

  With Butter on her heels, she walked next door to the hobby shop. She looked down at the half barrel to the left of the door and counted ten dead chrysanthemums. Considering it was only mid-September, she couldn’t imagine the mums had been planted more than a month ago, yet they were all dead. The door opened, revealing an elderly man with a thick head of white hair. He wore blue jean overalls and a red handkerchief around his neck. Trying to look the part of a train conductor, Gabriella decided, and he’d achieved success. Butter rushed up and sniffed his feet.

  “The store opens at ten, ma’am, but if you’re interested in something specific, I’m sure I can help you.” He slowly bent at the waist and scratched Butter’s head.

  Gabriella offered her hand to shake. “I’m Gabriella Hadley, the new owner of the candy store next door.”

  “Oh, that’s right. I’ve seen you walking around all week.” He pushed his conductor’s hat further back on his head. “I’m Milo Thomas. This here’s been my hobby shop for forty years, and before that, it was my grandfather’s for thirty.”

  “Wow, that’s impressive. Tell me, Mr. Thomas, when did you plant these mums?”

  “Call me Milo, please. We aren’t formal around here.” He scowled at the dead plants. “Shoot, those were just planted. Couldn’t have been more than two weeks ago. Right after Labor Day, I think. And dead already. I told Brandon at the DDA meeting that we ought to find a new nursery next year. I haven’t said anything since, though. I know the poor kid’s taking hell right now for these flowers. Most of these merchants aren’t as easy-going as I am.”

  Gabriella found it amusing that this man referred to Brandon as a kid. “May I?” she asked, indicating the flowers.

  “Help yourself,” he replied. “It’s a lost cause now. I’m thinking I’m just going to pull them up and leave it empty till next spring.”

  Gabriella tugged on one of the dead plants and watched grey dirt crumble to the ground as the plant easily came loose. “I think I know what’s wrong, and I’m pretty sure it’s the soil, not the plants. If it’s all right, I’m going to take samples from a few of the barrels. When Brandon gets back, I’ll ask him to take me to the nursery to get the soil tested. You’re right, it may be a lost cause right now, but maybe we can get it straightened out before next spring. It was nice to meet you, Milo. I look forward to working next door to you.”

  Milo beamed at her. “Anytime, Gabrie
lla, anytime. It’s pretty slow around here in the mornings, so feel free to pop in and I’ll share a cup of coffee and expound on the history of our fair village.” He winked and walked back inside his shop.

  Gabriella walked back to her own shop, pleased that she might be able to do something to help solve Brandon’s problem with the flowers. She walked inside and turned to lock the door behind her, because she intended to go upstairs and start working on the apartment, when a shadow fell across the door. She gave a little jump and then realized it was Daniel Franks, the assistant police chief.

  Chastising herself for being so easily spooked, and knowing it was because she had just told Brandon her story about Miguel, Gabriella opened the door and invited him inside.

  “Morning, Gabriella,” he said as he tipped his hat. “Thought I’d stop by to see how things were coming along.”

  He looked around and whistled. “I’ll be damned. You’ve made some serious improvements in a very short time.”

  “Thank you. I’m in a hurry to get it opened. It will be nice to actually have a steady income again.” She smiled at him.

  He smiled back, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Cop eyes, she thought. Always assessing everything.

  “What’s your ETA to open?”

  Gabriella shrugged. “I’m hoping to have a soft opening by early October, and maybe a grand opening by the weekend before Halloween.”

  Daniel looked around again. “That’s certainly possible,” he said softly, clearly admiring how far she’d progressed. “What about the apartment? Are you living there?”

  Gabriella shook her head. “No, it was pretty trashed. I’m staying in one of Brandon’s guest rooms until it’s cleaned up. I have some people coming over tomorrow morning to start work on that front. So maybe I can move in next week sometime.” The thought did not cheer her like it should.

  Even if they were not sharing a bed, she still had come to enjoy sharing a house with Brandon. It would be very different to be alone in her own apartment, to go to bed alone, to wake up alone. To make her own coffee each morning… It would be very different not to have Brandon’s face, Brandon’s body be the last thing she sees before she goes to bed each night. Her dreams had taken a decidedly erotic twist since she took up residence in his guest room.

  Maybe she should be looking forward to moving into her own apartment.

  Daniel was talking. Gabriella forced herself to focus on his words, not the latest fantasy that had woken her up a few hours before dawn this morning. She had lain in bed, panting and talking herself out of hurrying down the hall to Brandon’s bedroom until she finally fell back asleep again.

  “It’s going to be a hot one today. Up to seventy, at least. You may want to get up there and open some windows, air the place out a little.”

  “Thanks, that’s a good idea. I don’t miss eighty-five in September, but it will certainly be nice to see a comfortable seventy.”

  She smiled at him again but he did not return the smile. He seemed to be thinking of something else, and Gabriella wondered if there was some big, unsolved case in town right now. She hadn’t even opened a newspaper since she arrived.

  “Well, I gotta go. Call me if you need anything.” He tipped his hat again and walked out the front door.

  Gabriella took a step toward the front door and nearly tripped over Butter, who’d been hovering at her feet. “Butter, watch it,” she said as she stumbled and righted herself.

  Butter ran to the back of the store, and Gabriella walked to the front door and locked it. Then she grabbed her purse off the counter, walked back through the store, went through the storeroom and out the back door. She glanced around and realized she had yet to call to have the dumpster emptied. She made another mental note to do so before Brandon realized it and chastised her again, but first she decided to head upstairs and get to work on her next project.

  She walked up the rickety stairs, Butter on her heels. At the top of the stairs, she realized Daniel was right: the day was warming quickly, and it was much warmer on the second level than downstairs. She pushed the door open and the first thing she noticed was the smell. It slammed into her and she staggered backwards, eyes streaming. She put a hand over her nose and mouth and gagged.

  Gabriella waited a few minutes and then took her hand away from her face. The lingering smell was bad, but not nearly as bad as the initial blast when she opened the door. When they first checked out the apartment on Tuesday, Brandon had said he thought something was living in the bedroom. Maybe whatever it was had died.

  Gabriella took a step inside. She turned immediately and opened the nearest kitchen window, which was over the sink, and overlooked the alley below. She stepped into the kitchen and headed toward the next window, which was in the small dining area, and overlooked the roof of the Made in Michigan store next door, which did not have a second story. She turned to walk into the living room, and that’s when she saw the most likely source of the smell.

  A body. A human body. While she had never seen dead human bodies other than in funeral homes, Gabriella felt pretty certain this one had been dead for a while. It was gray and bloated and the head was twisted at an unnatural angle. Not to mention the wide-open, unblinking eyes.

  She screamed. She turned and tripped over Butter again, crashing into a white ladder-back kitchen chair. Her knee hit first, then she fell and the seat of the chair jabbed into her abdomen, pushing all of the breath out of her lungs. She rolled over onto her back, gasping for air and whimpering from pain. Butter stuck her nose in Gabriella’s face and she pushed the dog away.

  “Gabriella? Miss Hadley? Are you up there?” she heard someone calling from the bottom of the stairs. “Gabriella? It’s Milo. Are you okay?”

  “Milo,” Gabriella gasped, still trying to catch her breath. “Call 9-1-1. There’s a dead body up here.”

  She didn’t hear any sound for several heartbeats, and then she heard the creak of the stairs, as someone laboriously climbed them. Milo’s silhouette darkened the doorway and then he stepped inside when he saw Gabriella sprawled on the floor.

  “Gabriella, are you okay? What happened?” He leaned over and helped her to her feet. She limped over to the only other kitchen chair and gratefully sank into it.

  “I’m fine, I tripped, that’s all. Knocked the wind out of me. But he doesn’t look so good.”

  She jabbed her thumb over her shoulder without turning around. She did not want to see the body again. She figured she could go the rest of her life without ever seeing that body – or any other dead body, ever again. Milo’s eyes followed to where her thumb indicated and he sucked in a sharp breath.

  “That’s Mr. Partridge.”

  “Who?” Gabriella asked, momentarily distracted from the smell and the fact that they were standing in the same room with a dead body.

  “Mr. Partridge. The only merchant who insisted everyone call him by his last name. He was the last candy store owner. He disappeared two years ago. Everyone assumed he’d died but they never found a body. I can’t believe he’s been up here all this time.”

  Gabriella shook her head. “He wasn’t. Brandon and I checked this place out on Tuesday, and there was not a dead body, nor was that smell here.” She fumbled with her purse, pulled out her cell phone and dialed 9-1-1.

  ***

  It was one o’clock before Gabriella was able to finally leave the candy store and walk back to Brandon’s house. She felt as though she were walking in a daze.

  The news she’d received before she left wasn’t good: the apartment and candy store both were now considered a crime scene. Bright yellow caution tape had been zig zagged across the front and back doors to the candy store, as well as the bottom of the stairs leading to the apartment. Milo had tried to cheer her by commenting that this would certainly get people talking about the candy store’s planned opening, but his words did not have the affect he was undoubtedly hoping for. Crime scene was not quite the look she had been trying to achieve.

&nbs
p; Daniel had appeared shortly after the first squad car, and Gabriella found it amazing that in the course of three days she’d gone from a potential interest for a date to a potential suspect in a murder. She wasn’t at all worried that they’d actually accuse her of murder, because the ME on site said he thought the man had been dead possibly for years. There was evidence that he had been frozen and thawed, very recently.

  Gabriella pushed the thought out of her head. She felt sorry for the man’s family, but at least now they had closure. What really bothered her was the fact that Daniel had told her he had no idea when she would be able to get back into her candy store. Her early October soft opening was already looking like a faded dream.

  By the time she arrived at Brandon’s house and despite walking in on her first dead body and the horrible smell that accompanied decomposition, Gabriella was starving. She nuked the leftover lasagna in the microwave and then sat outside on the patio and ate the entire thing.

  Normally, when Gabriella was stressed, she could barely eat. She had actually lost nearly ten pounds in those last few months living with Miguel. She hadn’t needed to lose weight at the time, and she was glad to see that her jeans were fitting a little better now, which meant eating at the Pizza Parlor was likely something she would have to do in moderation in the near future.

  Unfortunately, she realized as she looked down at her empty plate, finding dead bodies apparently had the opposite effect on her. She took the plate inside, rinsed it and put it in the dishwasher. She wandered around the house, straightening up here and there, only dimly aware of the throbbing in her knee. She took the laundry basket upstairs and put her clothes away.

  Because she noticed a pile of laundry on the floor of the laundry room, she began washing Brandon’s clothes. She rummaged around and found a cabinet full of cleaning supplies, and then, because she wanted to stay busy, Gabriella began to methodically clean Brandon’s entire house. The only room she did not touch was his bedroom. It just seemed too personal of a space to walk into without his knowledge or permission.