Murder Gone A-Rye (A Baker's Treat Mystery)

by Nancy J. Parra

  “One last thing—Lois?”

  “When my mother, Susan, died five years ago, I let Lois fill the void. She needed a nurse companion, she got one. She was allowed run of the Chamber of Commerce. Even when her, shall we say, lack of education showed, it was overlooked because of my family. You see, Ms. Holmes, we Everetts understand the meaning of family.”

  “Of course,” I said, my mind roiling with ideas. “It’s why I came . . . to express my condolences for your loss. If it had been a member of my family, I would be grieving, too.”

  He sent me a wry smile. “I understand our families grieve in different ways.”

  I let out a small laugh. “Indeed we do.” His family grieved with quiet dignity. Mine grieved with big, sloppy, emotional noise.

  He stood. “Thank you for coming by and for the baked goods.”

  I knew I was being dismissed. I rose and headed out. “You’re welcome. I hope that you understand how much your adoptive father meant to Oiltop.”

  “Oh, I do. It’s why we have the parade. It’s why we host the carnival on the fairgrounds.” He stopped at his front door. “There’s something to be said for knowing one’s ancestors. I’m sure you agree. Wasn’t it your great-grandparents who founded Haysville College?”

  “Yes, it was.” I left it at that. Academics were never paid enough to live in houses big enough to need a staff. The homestead might be large, but that was purely out of necessity. On any given day, my house was overrun with boisterous family members. Which reminded me—my family was coming for dinner tomorrow, and the two twenty-pound turkeys thawing in my kitchen needed to be prepped. Not to mention the house needed to be dusted and the linens ironed.

  I glanced back at the Everett family home. Maybe having a household staff wasn’t a bad idea.

  CHAPTER 27

  “You look dead on your feet, no pun intended.” Tasha sat on the rolling stool in the bakery kitchen.

  “I’ll be fine.” I stuffed the second turkey with a gluten-free apple/cornbread stuffing and basted it with herb butter. I had gotten Meghan to bring the turkeys from the house to the bakery. The ovens here were big enough to bake both turkeys at the same time. It was family tradition to bake them the night before.

  “I dusted and vacuumed the house. I swear that puppy sheds three times its body weight every day.”

  “What did the vet say? Do we know what kind of dog it is?” I lifted the heavy pan and Tasha popped up and opened the second oven door for me.

  “Yes. There’s good news and bad,” she said.

  “Okay . . .”

  “The puppy is a happy and healthy twenty-six pounds.”

  “Good.” I nodded.

  “And about five weeks old.” Tasha waited for my reaction.

  “You mean five months, right?”

  “Nope.” She shook her head. “Five weeks. He still has puppy teeth.”

  “But he’s twenty-six pounds. . . . If he’s only five weeks, that means . . .” I had a hard time wrapping my mind around how big he would get.

  “He’s a Great Pyrenees. Fully grown, Aubrey will run about one hundred and twenty pounds.”

  “Holy crap, he’ll be as big as you.” I had to sit down.

  “I know. It means I won’t be able to rent an apartment. The vet said they are a great family breed, but they need a house and a yard.”

  “Isn’t Kansas too hot for the breed? I mean, think of how much hair they have. He’ll die when the temps hit one hundred or better.”

  She shrugged. “I’ll need a good air conditioner.” She leaned against the wall and looked at me. “It’s not like I can send him to anther home now. The minute Kip found him I was stuck.”

  Kip could not adjust to change well, and once he decided on something, there was little Tasha could do.

  “I don’t suppose you could tell Kip that Aubrey would be happier on a farm . . . a big farm, say in Colorado, where it’s cooler.”

  “Not unless I move them both to a farm, a big farm, say in Colorado.” She mimicked me because we both knew how hopeless the situation was.

  “Then Aubrey will simply have to stay at my house. I have good air conditioning and a yard.”

  “And when we move out?” She sent me a look that showed she was unsure if she was crossing some boundary of friendship.

  “He’ll stay with me,” I said. “I live close to school. Kip can come before and after to see him. I trust him to lock up. The kid follows directions to a tee.”

  “Yes. That can be a good thing and a bad thing.” She hugged me. “Thank you. I can’t tell you what your friendship means to me.”

  “How’d your date go with Calvin?”

  Tasha blushed and poured herself some coffee. “I think I’m in love.” She turned to me, spoon in hand. “What is wrong with me? How can I be in love so quickly? I mean, just last month I was in a really bad relationship. We know how that crush ended.”

  I touched her hand. “There’s nothing wrong with you. It’s not like you’re marrying him this week. Right?” I raised an eyebrow.

  “No.” She laughed. “I’m not marrying him this week. Next month.”

  “What?”

  “Just kidding.” She laughed. “You are so easy.”

  I pushed her out of the way. “Go, sit down. Stop messing with me when I’m so tired.”

  “But it’s so much fun.” She sat down at the table. I went over my to-do list to make sure that I had all my orders filled and things ready for dinner the next day and for the parade. “Have you heard from your grandma?” Tasha asked.

  “She’s recovering. Complaining about how uncomfortable the casts are and how she hates having to rely on others to get around.”

  “Did you tell her that’s what happens when she does foolish things?” Tasha waggled her eyebrows over the top of her coffee mug.

  “Boy, would I love to,” I said. “But I think she’s smart enough to already know that.”

  “Is she going to be able to ride on the float?”

  “Yes. I had Brad add a seat belt to her chair. There’s no keeping Grandma Ruth down.”

  Tasha smiled. “I bet she told you she expected to ride on the float even if she were dead.”

  “Yes.” My eyes grew wide at the ridiculousness of it all. “She said if she died I was to put sunglasses on her and have a machine hoist her hand in a pageant wave.”

  Tasha spat her coffee. “Oh, my, now that was an image I didn’t need in my head.”

  We had a good laugh, I think because I was so tired that I laughed a bit more than was called for. My stomach hurt and my eyes watered.

  “I guess I’m late to the party,” Brad said as he walked in from the front of the bakery.

  “Oh, I didn’t hear the door bells.” I wiped the tears from my eyes and tried to catch my breath.

  “I locked the door and turned the sign for you,” he volunteered as I passed him. “Why don’t you tell me what’s so funny.”

  “Toni was telling me about her Grandma Ruth’s last wishes.” Tasha giggled.

  “Yes, nothing is keeping her from the parade,” I added and took a deep breath.

  “I think that’s an image I don’t want to know about.” Brad was dressed in a cashmere navy sweater, white shirt, dark blue dockers, and boat shoes. Why men wore boat shoes when they didn’t have a boat was beyond me, but it was a look that Todd would like. “You’re still dressed for the memorial service.”

  I glanced down at the black dress, covered in one of my giant pink-and-white striped aprons. The apron was covered in baking splash back. There was evidence of pie filling, muffin batter, cupcake frosting, and turkey basting. I know it sounds nasty, but it made me happy to know how much work I’d gotten done. I pulled the apron over my head and threw it in the basket I kept for laundry. “I put the turkeys in the ovens. I think that’s all I ha
ve to do tonight.”

  “I’m off. Kip is spending the night with his grandmother, and I’ve got a puppy to take care of.” Tasha poured her coffee in the sink and rinsed out her cup. “Nice to see you, Brad.”

  “You, too, Tasha.”

  She tugged on her jacket and grabbed her purse. “See you in the morning, Toni.”

  “Right, Thanksgiving,” I said. “Be at the float by eight A.M. Tell Kip he can bring Aubrey.”

  “Oh, he’s planning on it. ’Night, all.” She left out the back. The silence in the bakery made me very aware of being alone with Brad. I told myself I shouldn’t feel this kind of tension. The man was my lawyer and a good friend.

  I tried to act casually and checked on the turkeys, which didn’t need checking on, since I had just put them in.

  “How long will those turkeys need to cook?” Brad asked. He leaned against the doorjamb, looking every bit the GQ cover model.

  “These will cook all night. I’ll pull them out right before the parade and bring them to the house.”

  “They look pretty heavy. Are you going to be handling them yourself?”

  “I’ve got a house full of family. One of the guys will come over and take care of it.”

  He reached over and took my hand. “I can come over and take care of it, if you want me to.”

  Oh boy.

  “I figured you’d be busy with the Elks club float and your own family dinner.”

  “There are plenty of people taking care of the float,” he said, low and soft. “And as for family, they’d take one look at you and understand.”

  “That’s a nice line,” I said, trying to pretend that the spit didn’t dry up in my mouth. “Everyone knows that Thanksgiving is for family. My family would have a conniption if I tossed over Thanksgiving with them for some guy I was dating.”

  “That is one of the things I admire about your family.”

  “What? That we’re loud, creative, boisterous, and have a tendency to need a lawyer?”

  “Maybe you should think about how much you need a lawyer in your family.” He raised his eyebrows, and his smile would have melted butter. Lucky for me my knees were stronger than his easy charm.

  “Not dating.” I think I said this out loud, as he backed off, if not physically, at least mentally.

  “I haven’t forgotten,” he said, paying attention to his cell phone.

  “I’m good, you know. You don’t have to see me home.” I picked up my purse and grabbed my coat from the hook near the back door.

  He was beside me in a second, taking the coat from my hands and holding it out for me. “I’d feel better knowing you were home safe.”

  “I promise not to fall asleep at the wheel. Seriously, I’ve had about a million pots of coffee today.”

  “Are you afraid someone might help you, or are you afraid of me?”

  I stopped and stared at him. It was a good question. “Maybe both.”

  “At least you’re truthful.” He cocked his head, his blonde hair falling across his eyes, and he brushed it away. It was a terribly endearing thing for him to do. “Come on, I’ll follow you.”

  We stepped out into the floodlight I’d installed behind my building and I locked the back door. It was quiet out—that fall silence after the first frost when the bugs have hunkered down to sleep for the winter and the birds have moved onto warmer climes. The gravel of the back parking lot crunched under our feet and I noted that he had parked his Cadillac next to the bakery van.

  “I talked to Hutch Everett today,” I said as I stopped by the van and unlocked the door.

  “Okay.” It was not a question, but a declaration that I had his full attention.

  “Did you know that Lois Striker was his birth mother?”

  “I guessed as much.”

  “And his father was Champ Rogers.” I studied Brad’s face for the surprise I hoped to see. He had a great poker face.

  “Interesting,” was all he said.

  “Grandma Ruth thought that Lois knew something about Homer Everett. She speculated that Homer killed Champ.” Brad grunted and I figured he knew something I didn’t.

  “What?”

  “Where’s your motive? Weren’t they best friends?”

  “That’s what Hutch confirmed,” I said. “You don’t kill a man and then adopt his son as your own. Do you? Unless you couldn’t give your wife a son—they had been trying for ten years.”

  “So what? When he couldn’t give his wife a child and learned that Champ had gotten Lois pregnant, he what? Killed his friend in a fit of rage?”

  “Maybe,” I said. “And maybe guilt is what drove him to adopt Hutch as his own.”

  “Wow, you have a good imagination.”

  I gave Brad a dirty look. “Okay, so blackmail and/or a fight over a woman doesn’t do it for you—what does?”

  Brad laughed. “I prefer not to speculate before I see the evidence.”

  “I told Hutch about the courthouse wall.”

  “What good did you think that would do?”

  “He said he’s had a reward out for information on Champ’s death for years. If anyone can get the police to cut a hole in the judge’s wall, it’s Hutch Everett—Homer’s son or not Homer’s son.”

  “And you’re certain of this?”

  “Yes, aren’t you?”

  “Why would I be?”

  “Because your family runs in the same circles as Hutch. Because they have a vested interest in his political connections.”

  “I don’t remember having a vested interest, and I know nothing about Homer—or Champ, as he died before we were even born.” Brad crossed his arms.

  “I know. I thought maybe you remember stories your grandparents might have told.”

  “My grandparents rarely talked about anything but what my parents were doing and how I needed to go to the right colleges.” He tilted his head. “What did your family talk about?”

  “My family talked about what sports my brothers were into, who my sisters were dating, and what the professors at the college were doing.” I blew out a breath, realizing he hadn’t been asking about my family but was making a point. He was right. I suppose I was still trying to investigate and making a hash of it. I blame the fact that I was running on two hours’ sleep.

  I climbed up into the van, and he closed the door for me. I put on my seat belt, and he made a motion for me to roll down my window. I did as he asked.

  “Keep your windows open to let in the cold air. I’ll be right behind you,” he said. “If I see you weaving too much I’m going to honk.”

  “I’m really not that . . .” A big yawn came over me, and he raised a thick blond eyebrow. “Fine. I’ll keep my window open.”

  “Good.” He pounded his pronouncement on the side of the van. “I’ll be right behind you.”

  I started up the van and waited for him to get into his car and pull out. Then I gently drove through the parking lot and out into the street. It was only seven P.M., but the entire town had closed up. Most people were at home entertaining family or preparing for tomorrow’s feasts. My thoughts turned to Grandma. What was she really looking for when she climbed the statue? I’d asked Hutch straight out if they siliconed the statue, and he had said no. So how did the silicone get there? And worse, I still didn’t know who had killed Lois, or why. Time was running out.

  CHAPTER 28

  “How do I look?” Grandma Ruth’s voice was rougher than usual. “Pretty, aren’t I?” She laughed, low and rumbly. Her eyes were bright, and there was a big fat bruise on her cheek. Her arm was in a pink cast. Her leg was in a white cast. Instead of trying to get her in her float throne, we had created a makeshift ramp out of two boards and Bill had pushed her wheelchair up onto the float. The wheelchair was closer in appearance to the scooter than the throne was and more people would recogniz
e her.

  “You look lovely, Ruth,” Tasha said as she carefully combed Grandma’s orange curls back and pinned a white tissue flower behind Grandma’s left ear.

  “Is it left for single and right for married, or vice versa?” Grandma asked.

  “You mean the flowers? I think left for married and right for single, like your rings,” I said as I carefully tied her chair into place on the float. Grandma wore a red, white, and blue sweatshirt and a bright red skirt with white stripes. Bill tucked a blue throw blanket around Grandma’s knees. It was supposed to be a sunny day, but the high was only fifty degrees. Too chilly for a woman in her nineties who was still recovering from a concussion—but Grandma would not hear of wearing her coat.

  “This little heater runs on a battery,” I said as I set the small area heater near Grandma’s feet. “That way even if it gets knocked over it won’t set anything on fire.”

  “How about my tablet?” Grandma asked with a gleam in her blue eyes. “Will I be able to watch the Macy’s parade? I have a grandson marching in that parade, and I don’t want to miss it.”

  “Lucy’s taping it, Grandma,” I said as I adjusted the final decorations on her part of the float.

  “I don’t want to see it taped, I want to see it live. You said you would get me one of those new-fangled tablets to watch it stream online.”

  “I didn’t have time to buy one,” I said with a sigh. “I had to make thirty dozen cookies to give away on the parade route.” Not to mention a chocolate display for the window.

  “How am I going to give away anything strapped in this chair?” Grandma frowned at me.

  I had to bite my tongue not to tell her that she should have thought of that before she tried climbing the statue. But I didn’t. “It’s okay, Grandma. Kip and Aubrey are going to do the giveaway for you.”

  “Who’s Aubrey? Did I have another grandchild without knowing about it?”

  “Aubrey is Kip’s puppy,” Tasha said. “Remember, Kip rescued him from a well in the park.”

  “Oh, right. Cute sucker.” Grandma sat back. “Sorry. Must be the pain meds going to my head. Did you say you had one of the tablets for me to stream the Macy’s parade?”