by Tonya Kappes
“What on earth is going on out there?” she asked. “They wouldn’t let me even walk up the boardwalk.” The edges of her silver chin-length bob swayed back and forth as she talked. Her blunt bangs hung down over her eyes a little more than normal.
“Get in here.” I opened the door wide to accommodate her and the carrier she had in her hand. I looked left and right outside to see if anyone else was there before I shut it. “Do you know Hillary Canter?”
“Do I?” Louise let out a loud sigh that spoke volumes. “What about her?”
“She’s dead.” I gnawed on my bottom lip and furrowed my brow. “I found her,” I whispered.
“Oh, no. Not again,” Louise groaned. She stripped off her jacket and hung it on the hook.
“Why is everyone saying that?” I asked, as though I didn’t deserve the response when someone found out it was me who’d found her. “I mean, she was slumped over in one of the café seats outside.”
“She’s awfully young to die.” Louise’s attitude from when I asked her if she knew Hillary had drastically changed.
“Murdered.” There was no other way to put it. “She was murdered. At least, the initial observation from the coroner said she looked to be strangled.”
Shock then fear appeared on Louise’s face. “Who did it?” She gasped.
“I don’t think they know, but there’s been a lot of talk about her lately, and everyone’s initial reaction was exactly the one you had on your face.” I was getting a sense that many more than just Babette and Pam had an issue with not only Hillary Canter, but the whole Canter clan.
“Between me and you,” she said, making my ears perk up, but she didn’t continue. She bent down, opened the carrier, and tried to take a Labrador puppy out of the cage. He ran out, knocking her flat on her bottom. “Bentley,” she scolded. “Calm down.”
Bentley’s tail was wagging so fast that it swiped the legs of the work station then thumped on Pepper’s face when Pepper tried to get close to smell the new friend. Bentley paid Pepper no attention. He bathed Louise in kisses.
I had to hear what Louise was going to tell me, so I grabbed a treat from the dog treat jar.
“Hi, Bentley.” I held the treat out in my outstretched hand.
It didn’t take long for him to realize I had something to give him. Pepper stayed away from the smacking tail. Smart boy.
“Here you go.” I pinched the treat in half and handed it to him a little at a time to get some more time with Louise. “What were you saying about Hillary?”
“That.” She opened the flap of her bag and took out a file on Bentley.
The file contained all the information Pet Palace had on the animal, as well as how he got to the shelter, his previous health records, and his vaccinations. If there were any particulars the new family might need to know, such as behavior issues or if the animal is just a one-person pet, there would be a detailed report in there about that.
Pepper stood by the swinging door, looking at me with his big dark eyes. He didn’t seem to approve of Bentley for some reason. It made me pause, since Pepper got along with every animal, even cats. When Pepper went back out into the shop, I didn’t try to stop him and make him sniff Bentley again. I figured it was best for him to do it on his own time and not be forced.
Bentley’s attention span appeared to be super short, because when he noticed the swinging kitchen door, he darted toward it and out into the shop. His curiosity must’ve gotten the best of him.
“Oh!” Louise smacked the file down on the counter. “He’s not really good at boundaries yet.”
“Wait,” I said when she started toward the door. “I’d rather he run around now and get used the place instead of doing it when we are busy.”
I had a sneaking suspicion that the coffee shop was going to be packed after the sun rose and the news of Hillary Canter started to infiltrate all the gossip circles.
“Are you sure? Because he’s a handful, and I really need him to go to a family with children who will wear him out,” she said. Based on the look on her face, he’d already worn her out this morning.
“I’m positive.” I went back to the refrigerator to get the cold items I needed to finish making the dog treats. “Now, what were you going to tell me?” I grabbed the eggs, cheese, and margarine.
“I was saying that she’d gotten in trouble with the law once and had to do some community service.” She held up Bentley’s file, and I gestured for her to put it on the counter next to the door so I wouldn’t forget to put it by the register. That way, when customers asked about him, I could just look in there.
“Like diversion?” I asked since I’d been a lawyer to many teens who’d found themselves on the wrong end of the law. Diversion was a program offered to minors, which helped to get them the help they needed, along with community service to get them set on the right track. It also expunged their criminal record and gave them a clean slate. Unfortunately, I’d seen too many of those kids fall right back into their old patterns.
“Back then, it was just called community service.” Her eyebrows rose. “And her community service was to clean out the cat and dog stalls for a month.”
It was an image I couldn’t picture.
“She didn’t like to get her hands dirty. I’d told her time and time again how she needed to do it one way because I’d get shut down if the cages weren’t sanitized. She didn’t care. She was on her cell phone most of the time. She didn’t even show up one week. When I went to the judge about it, he said he’d take care of it.” She scoffed. “It was then that I got notice that her community service had been filled, and she wouldn’t be back. That’s when I got my first taste of the Canters.”
“She seems pretty privileged,” I said. “Yesterday, I was in the boutique, and she was mad because someone took the jacket she wanted. She just wanted to argue.”
“Did she fight with the customer?” Louise asked. “Because if that’s the case, maybe that’s who killed her.”
“I don’t think Babette Cliff is a killer, though Hillary did have the jacket on when I found her.” I wondered how far Spencer had gotten with Babette this morning.
“Oh dear.” Louise knitted her brows together. “That’s not good, especially with Babette’s background.”
“Babette has a background too?” My jaw dropped.
“She killed someone. She was convicted too. I’m figuring that’s why she works for herself.” Louise trailed off on a different thought. “Who’d hire a convicted killer?”
“Go back to the fact that she killed someone,” I managed to say with a stiff lip. “Who?”
“Big Bib’s girlfriend.” Louise snapped her fingers a few times, and she looked up in the air. “What was her name?” She waved her hands in the air. “I can’t remember it, but you can find out anything you need to know at the library.”
Research was also something I’d been good at when I was a lawyer. I wasn’t going to stick my nose into anything with Hillary’s apparent murder. It was only out of curiosity.
“What happened?” I really wanted to know. It was a good time to listen as I mixed all the dry and wet ingredients together for the dog treats.
“Apparently, Babette has a little issue with anger.” Louise opened the oven door and looked at the scones. “Do you want me to take these out?”
“Yes.” I pointed to an open shelf that contained the cake platters. “Grab one of the platters with a dome and put them on there.” I went back to mixing in the eggs. “Had an anger issue or has one?” There was a big difference between the two, and I wanted to hear the rest of the story.
“She and Big Bib’s girlfriend had an argument over him.” Bib was the owner of the marina that was attached to the boardwalk. “Around here, it wasn’t unusual for kids to have boat races, and Babette and this gal had a boat race to prove something. I don’t know what, but regardless, it was proven that at the last minute, Babette got angry that this girl was beating her. That’s when she turned her boat
into the girl’s. The girl’s boat flipped, killing her instantly.” Louise’s voice faded away, and so did the look on her face.
I gasped in disbelief. “Wow. I’d never figure Babette could do such a thing.”
“Maybe she got mad about the coat thing and just went off,” Louise suggested. “Back then, she went to a home for troubled teens, and we didn’t see her again until she was a legal adult. Then she kept to herself until she decided to open the event center. Ask your Aunt Maxi about it. The beautification committee was so mad that the real estate agent sold it to Babette.”
I kneaded the dough for the Cheddar Cheesy Fur Treats and used the rolling pin to roll it out flat enough so I could use the small-heart cookie-cutter to get them on a baking sheet and in the oven. It was enough of a workout to let my mind wander.
“How did she get a loan with a record like that?” I knew from past clients at the law office that it was really hard to get a bank to approve a loan for someone with a felony. It seemed like discrimination, but private banks didn’t have to give loans, and they could base their denials on many things. I thought murder would be one of them.
“Beats me.” Louise shrugged and placed the dome lid on the platter.
I’d seen it many times before as a lawyer. After someone killed one time, it was a lot easier to do it a second time. I gulped and set the timer. My mind was such a jumble that I knew I’d forget they were in there, and they’d burn. Burning down the joint wasn’t on my to-do list.
A loud crash came from the shop. Louise and I rushed through the door to find that Bentley had knocked into the tea station, sending a few of the locally made clay mugs crashing to the floor.
“Oh dear!” Louise cried out with worry.” I’m afraid I’m going to have to keep him at the Pet Palace. He’s not a good fit here.” She pushed back through the kitchen door.
“He’s fine.” I played it off, but in the back of my mind, I counted up the dollars he’d just taken out of my business. “I get a deal on these. If I put their business card out, they give me a discount.”
I tried to use all locally made goods and locally grown ingredients in the shop. It was my way of giving back to Honey Springs and promoting the small-business community.
Louise came back in with the platter in her hands, her face almost somber. “Do you really think Babette could’ve killed Hillary?” She set it on top of the counter next to the register. They stared a coffee customer in the face. Then their eyes told their stomachs how good a scone would taste with coffee. It was a fun marketing ploy that I’d learned from a coffee-shop barista I’d met in my previous life. That was how she’d lured me into buying hers.
I walked up to the front of the shop to retrieve the broom, so I could get the floor cleaned up before I turned the sign over to open.
“I think we’re about to find out,” I muttered when I noticed Babette standing at the coffee shop door, looking in at me. With the broom in one hand, I flipped the sign with the other and unlocked the door, even though it was a few minutes before seven a.m., opening time. When I opened the door, I noticed the sheriff’s department was gone, and all the remains of the past couple of hours had been cleaned up.
Babette pushed her way into the coffee shop. “You’re a lawyer, right?” She stopped when she saw Louise standing there but not for long. Bentley nearly bowled her over. She snapped her finger. “Down,” she demanded, tugging on his collar.
It was as if she were one of those puppy whisperers from TV. Bentley immediately sat on the floor. His tail dragged back and forth and showed his delight at her presence.
“Good boy.” She patted his head. She turned her attention back to me. “You’re a lawyer, right?” she repeated. “Because I need your help. I think Sheriff Shepard is going to charge me with the murder of Hillary Canter.”
“That’s not something you hear every day,” Louise spoke in an odd-yet-gentle tone.
“Louise, I’m sure you can recall that my teenage years were a struggle for everyone around here. But I think my adult life speaks for itself.” Babette walked over to the coffee bar. “May I?”
“Yes.” I nodded rapidly. “Absolutely. Help yourself.”
It was one of the reasons I loved coffee so much. It had some sort of relaxing effect on people when they came together to share a freshly brewed pot. After my divorce, I’d spent many hours in various coffee shops, and it was then I found my therapy. I’d confided in people I didn’t even know. Each person I met had come from a completely different background, with different socio-economic statuses, races, and even political views, but we came together over a cup of coffee. That was when I knew how much a coffee shop could help heal whatever it was that was brought inside of the shop.
When I’d called Aunt Maxi and told her about the divorce and how I’d gotten myself enrolled in barista classes, she insisted that I move to Honey Springs to open a coffee shop on the soon-to-be-renovated boardwalk. It had been perfect timing.
“I remember,” Louise agreed, “and I do think that you’ve redeemed yourself, unless you did kill that girl.”
“You’ve lost your ever-lovin’ mind.” Babette’s face contorted into disgust. “I’ve paid my price for that. I’ve made a life for myself now.”
“Unfortunately”—I bit the inside of my cheek—“when you’re a suspect, all your history comes into play.”
“Then you need to prove I didn’t do it.” Babette plunked down a wad of cash. “Here’s my retainer.”
“No. I don’t want your money.” My face softened, and I gave her a weak smile. “Why don’t I get through this morning’s rush, and when things die down, I’ll leave Bunny here. I’ll bring us a cup of coffee, and we can talk.”
I couldn’t promise her anything, but I could listen to what she had to say.
SEVEN
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Patrick asked, taking my hand in his. He’d gotten to the coffeehouse ten minutes after we’d opened. He wasn’t the first customer through the door.
There was something about a murder that brought people together. Add coffee and some pastries to the equation, and there was a packed coffeehouse. I hated that the boost in sales was at the expense of Hillary Canter’s demise, but I also kept a close ear to the ground.
If I was going to listen for Babette, as I told her I would, then I was going to have to serve up enough coffee to keep the gossip hot and coming.
“I’m fine. I guess I was a little shaken up about the coat.” I sighed and pulled my hand away as leaned my hip on the stove and stirred the pot of Southern ham-and-bean soup, which I’d decided to serve for the daily special. It was perfect for the in-between-the-seasons weather—hearty, yet warm and delicious. Plus, it froze well in case I didn’t sell it all, though I had a sneaking suspicion it was going to be a hit.
Bunny was holding down the coffeehouse. She would tell me if she heard anything that was worth hearing, for sure. It was practically her second job.
“You know the whole coat thing I told you about last night?” I asked.
“I remember. When I heard that Hillary was murdered, I couldn’t stop thinking about Paige Lewis.” He frowned.
“Paige Lewis?” I stopped the ladle in mid-stir.
“Paige is the girl that Babette killed.” He said it as if I’d been there when it happened.
“The girl that Louise told me about.” Paige Lewis, I thought, using my memory technique so that I would be able to recall her name when I asked around about her.
“I forget you’ve not been with me all my life.” His strong hand rubbed up and down my back. “It was a big deal for someone to die, especially someone at our age. We were just sixteen, and Babette was the girl that always had a good time. If she wanted something, she took it.”
“She wanted Big Bib?” My lip curled at the end of the question. My interactions with Bib had been brief since I’d lived in Honey Springs. Though he was harmless, he was a little frightening with his bearded face and unruly hair. Add his overalls
and dirty appearance, and that qualified as a little scary. I couldn’t see him and Babette cuddled up together, but who was I to judge?
“He was a catch back then. While I was working with hammers and nails, he worked on boats, building big engines and revving them up. Girls around here loved that sort of thing.” The lines of concentration deepened along his brow and under his eyes.
“How come I didn’t notice him?” I teased.
“Because you liked the hammer.” He made a muscle with his bicep.
“You’re a mess.” I laughed and turned the stove down to simmer so I could give him a hug and send him on his way.
“You’re trying to get rid of me.” He pulled back and looked at me through his narrowed eyes. “What are you up to?”
“Nothing. I’ve got a business to run.” I dropped my arms from around him and turned the burners off.
“You’re going to snoop.” He gave me a dark and layered look. “I can see it in your eyes. You’re thinking about who the murderer could be.”
“I’m going to see. Just check a few things out.” It wasn’t a lie. “I told Babette that I’d come by later today and talk to her.”
“I thought we discussed this after last time.” He fidgeted around so that he was in my line of vision.
“You discussed it last time. I listened.” It was another trait that I’d kept from being a lawyer. Sometimes, it was better to sit still and listen. After the fire marshal had figured out my house was deliberately set on fire, Sheriff Shepard connected it to my snooping around about another case.
“Roxanne Bloom.” His brow was high and rounded. “I’m not going to tell you what to do, but now that we are spending the rest of our lives together, I do think I should be able to tell you that I don’t think it’s a good idea to listen to anything anyone who might be a suspect has to say.”
“I appreciate that. I’ll take it under consideration.” I patted his chest and moved around him.
I touched the Cheddar Cheesy Fur Treats that’d been on the cooling rack for about an hour. They were cool to the touch. I grabbed a few of the cellophane bags from one of the cabinets and put a couple of treats in each for the perfect grab-and-go for customers.
