Heaven Preserve Us: A Home Crafting Mystery (A Home Crafting Mystery)

by Cricket McRae

  "That must have been kind of hard, trying to help and having her push you away."

  Kyla nodded. "It was. I felt pretty guilty for not trying, but what were we supposed to do?"

  "It's hard to help someone who doesn't want it. I bet if she needed you now, you'd be there," I said.

  "I guess."

  Cyan snorted again. Kyla ignored her.

   

  "How long ago did her dad die?"

  "Couple of years. We were sophomores. He was in a car accident on Highway 2."

  I seemed to remember that. Drunk driver swerved into his lane and ran him off the road, from what I could recall.

  "And her mother? What's she do?" I asked.

  "She's a bookkeeper or something. My mom knows her pretty well. She's-Hey, who's that?" Kyla interrupted herself, pointing out the back window.

  I glanced over my shoulder before turning back to the label in my hand. "Luke Chase. He and his brother are building a chicken coop for us."

  "What for?"

  I lifted one eyebrow. "So we'll have a place to put the pullets once they're old enough this spring." Meghan and I had done our research and decided having fresh eggs from our own hens would be worth a little extra work. I was already dreaming of those gorgeous orange yolks you get when they eat fresh greens, of homemade mayonnaise and real angel food cake ...

  "They sound like a stinky pain," Kyla said, sealing her opinion with a curled lip.

  "Is that his brother?" Cyan asked.

  Another glance up from me. "Yeah, that's Seth."

  "How old is he?" Cyan seemed much more interested in the boys than in chickens. Who could blame her?

  I put down the bar of soap and walked over to the window. "I'm not sure. Seth is a couple years younger than Luke, I'm guessing. Maybe twenty-one?"

  The girls joined me at the window.

   

  "Hmm. Maybe a little younger," Kyla said, her voice sure. Well, she'd be able to tell. I'd steadily lost my ability to estimate the age of others as my own age increased.

  "Does Luke have a girlfriend?" she asked. "He's cute."

  "I have no idea," I said, smiling. "But I thought you had a boyfriend."

  "She does." Disapproval weighed Cyan's tone. "And he's applying to the same colleges she is, so he can be with her."

  Kyla shrugged. "Hard to tell what's going to happen with us. Besides, I was just asking."

  Luke looked up then and saw the three of us standing at the window watching them. I waved, and he raised a hesitant hand in response. I turned back to the job at hand, feeling like a dirty old woman. Kyla joined me, her fair complexion reddening.

  Cyan boldly studied the boys for a few more moments, unabashed that they were aware of her gaze. "I wouldn't mind a boyfriend of my own right now," I heard her say under her breath before she also came back and got to work.

  I frowned. She was only sixteen, and even Seth was way too old for her. It was probably adolescent fantasy, as so many quick crushes like that are. I hoped so; her mom would kill me if she found out I had anything to do with Cyan getting involved with either of the Chase boys.

  The brothers finished up their work on the coop for the day, and shortly after that the girls finished up their work for me and left for home. I took a break and went out to check Luke and Seth's progress.

   

  Situated at the end of our large backyard, their new home was bound to make our future hens happy. We'd only planned on getting four of them to start with, purchased as day-old chicks in a few more weeks and then raised under lamps in the old mudroom off the kitchen. Hopefully the "guarantee" of getting pullets as opposed to cockerels from the local feed store was a good one, since we weren't allowed to have any roosters within the city limits.

  The boys had finished the A-framed roosting house where the chickens would sleep, as well as the adjacent nesting house. The latter structure was a rectangular box on legs that contained two removable frames where the hens would lay eggs, and sported an angled roof that lifted up so we'd have easy access. Two-by-fours protruded from the ends so the girls would have a place to perch and preen off the ground when they weren't in the roosting house. Both the roosting and nesting houses had their first coats of red barn paint. I was also pleased to see that they'd nearly finished stapling the heavy two-by-four-inch wire to the exterior frame. Now they had to put the chicken wire over the top-more to keep predators out than to keep the chickens in-and add several inches of round gravel to the floor for easy cleanup with a hose. It made me want to go buy those cute little baby chicks right away.

  Back inside, I took a quick inventory in my storeroom to see what I needed to mix up next, and discovered the gel room fresheners I'd recently added to my product list were more popular than I'd anticipated. Time to make more. I'd gather the ingredients tonight and be ready to manufacture the next day. Kyla and Cyan and I could work as a kind of assembly line.

  The sound of the phone ringing upstairs registered somewhere in my consciousness as I dug out my recipe and double-checked the various adjustments and improvements I'd made to it over time. Erin opened the door at the top of the stairs and shouted down to me.

   

  "Sophie Mae! It's for you."

  She held the phone out to me with a bored look as I came up the stairs. Would it have killed her to bring it downstairs? Heck, it was probably just Allen anyway, all revved up for a chat about the Grim Reaper.

  I braced to hear his voice. "Hello?"

  "Sophie Mae. It's Rhea Waters." Kyla and Cyan's mother.

  "Hi, Rhea. How have you been?"

  We chatted for a few minutes, catching up in a superficial way as acquaintances who never quite got around to being good friends do. Then she said, "Kyla said you were asking about Mandy Koller. Are you looking for an accountant?"

  My ears perked up double at that. I wanted to know more about Mandy Koller, and I was looking for an accountant.

  "As it happens, I have been thinking about offloading some of my Winding Road bookwork," I answered truthfully.

  "Well, I can't recommend Mandy enough. She's bright, savvy about taxes, efficient, and her rates are quite reasonable."

  "She sounds terrific. Do you and your husband use her?"

  "Oh, heavens no. We don't have very complicated taxes, and she specializes in small businesses." Rhea's husband, a nondescript man whose name I could never seem to remember, was an electrician. "But I've known her for years. I know I'm recommending her as a friend, but I assure you everything I've told you is true. If you're wondering, check out her website. She offers a free consultation so potential clients get a chance to interview her."

   

  "You've known her a long time?"

  "Oh, yes. For well over a decade. We used to be neighbors. When her husband died, it was so tragic. But she pulled herself together and got her degree, and now she's working her tail off getting her CPA business off the ground."

  Hmmm. "So she doesn't have a great deal of experience," said the side of me who never wanted to add debit and credit columns ever again.

  "I wouldn't steer you wrong. Just give her a try."

  "Thanks for the referral, Rhea. I'll check her out."

  "You won't regret it."

  If I ended up with an accountant, great, I thought as I hung up. But at the very least I had an excuse to go talk to Mandy Koller, and I could guarantee the subject of Philip Heaven and his penchant for dispensing advice willy nilly would come up in the conversation.

  Mandy's website looked like it had been professionally designed, and as Rhea had said, she offered a preliminary consultation. I called, got her voicemail, and left a message asking to set up an appointment as soon as possible. I was pushing it, since it was already late February, smack dab in the middle of tax season.

  I packed up four retail orders from my website before the tantalizing fragrance of Meghan's cooking wafted down from the kitchen. It was early, only five o'clock, but I followed it up the stairs li
ke some cartoon character snagged by the curlingly visible scent of pie cooling on a window sill.

  Not that we were having pie, mind you. Sloppy Joes, made with Meghan's mother's homemade tomato sauce and a boatload of spices, and a casserole of macaroni and cheese laced with sharp cheddar, parmesan, and cream cheeses and sprinkled with bacon sat in the middle of the butcher block kitchen table. Erin was setting the table with plates and silverware, while Meghan tossed a simple salad of greens with balsamic vinaigrette.

   

  She spoke to me over her shoulder. "Maryjake called. She wanted to know if we had an extra jar of pickled asparagus. She didn't get any at the exchange, and it's one of her favorites."

  "It's one of my favorites, too," I grumped.

  "Which is why we took so few jars to give away. Take some over to her tonight, okay?"

  "Oh, all right."

  We ate, and Erin helped me with the dishes while Meghan ran up to change and primp. I packed a tote bag with Erin's homework and a book to read in case she finished early and tired of Nardella's Treasures. Then I put in a hardback novel for me and the pickled asparagus for Maryjake. I was thinking about adding a snack when the doorbell rang. I glanced at my watch and muttered something under my breath.

  "What?" Erin asked, all wide-eyed.

  "Never mind. It's six, we're already behind, so grab your shoes and let's go go go." I knew Maryjake would be waiting for me, no doubt tapping her toe and thinking bad thoughts about volunteers who showed up for their shifts late.

  "Geez. Okay"

  I went to answer the door, but Meghan already had it open. I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw her practically fall into the arms of the man on the doorstep.

  He was handsome, I had to admit that. When she pulled back from their hello kiss I saw how well their looks complemented each other. But there was no way this was their first date, was it? Because I could feel the fire between them from where I stood thirty feet away.

   

  Then I saw he wore an old pea coat. A funky hat peeked out of the pocket, a tassel hanging down from the earflap.

  My breath caught in my throat. I recognized both the coat and the hat-and now the man.

  Why had Kelly O'Connell been watching Heaven House last night?

  I coughed.

  Meghan turned. "Oh, Kelly, this is my housemate and best friend, Sophie Mae Reynolds. Sophie Mae, Kelly O'Connell."

  I pasted a smile on my face. "Hi, Kelly."

  "Hey. Saw you at the preserves exchange, but with all the excitement I didn't get a chance to introduce myself." He didn't seem to recognize me from the night before. Of course, I'd had the light behind me, and he probably couldn't see me very well. Or, maybe he was simply a better actor than I was.

  "Erin!" I called. "Come on."

  "I'm coming." She clattered down the stairs and snagged her coat off the hall tree. She greeted Kelly and wished her mother a fun evening as I got my own coat, and we practically ran out the door. I really wanted to find out more about Kelly; maybe Maryjake could enlighten me, if she wasn't too mad at me for showing up after my shift had officially started.

   

  SEVENTEEN

  MARYJAKE WAS INDEED WAITING, but she didn't seem at all upset that I was late. In fact, I was pretty sure she hadn't even noticed, she was so involved in conversation with Jude when Erin and I walked in.

  "I'm going to set up Erin in the game room to do some homework, okay?"

  Jude, crouched over a pile of papers at a nearby table, paused in leafing through them to give me a brilliant smile. "There's a new table and chairs in there, but it's kind of loud and crowded now. Might be hard to concentrate. We've got people working, putting up some shelves."

  It was the first time I'd seen him genuinely happy.

  "The Chase brothers?" I asked.

  He nodded.

  Maryjake jumped in. "Shelves for games and books, and a dartboard on the back wall. The pool-slash-ping pong table and a big television will be here next week."

   

  "Wow."

  "I know. Jude is making it a real game room, where teenagers can come after school and hang out. It'll be great."

  He looked away, modest, but the smile remained on his face. That room had been slated to be a game room for teens from the beginning. Philip had only been gone for four days, and Jude was already more efficient.

  "So are you taking over Heaven House?" I asked him.

  His gaze met mine for an instant before flicking away. He had very nice eyes, a light, clear green under that thick shock of blonde hair. Philip had had mostly red eyes, and mostly no hair. It was hard to believe they'd been related.

  "It looks that way," he said. "The board hasn't voted to confirm it yet, so nothing's written in stone."

  Maryjake said, "But they told him to go ahead and move into Philip's apartment upstairs, so that sounds like they want him to keep HH going, don't you think?"

  As they spoke, I'd been looking around, seeing the place as if for the first time. There was real potential there. "From what I can see, they couldn't choose anyone better," I said.

  Blushing a little, Jude looked down at the floor. "Thanks"

  "Let me know if you need any help packing up or moving. My little pickup is at your disposal," I said.

  He turned a little redder. "I might need to take you up on that. I don't have much to move, but I can't fit anything very big in my little compact."

  "Anytime," I said.

  Erin tugged at my arm. I looked down. "Sorry. Let's find you a good place to do your homework."

   

  "I don't have very much. And it's Friday. Can't I go play pinball?"

  I waffled. She had a point, but I didn't want to get on her mother's bad side. "Tell you what-you do half your homework first, and then you can go play Nardella."

  She made a little groaning noise in the back of her throat.

  "I thought you said you didn't have much homework. If that's true then it won't take you very long to do half of it, now will it?"

  "Oh, fine. But can't I do it in the game room? Please?"

  I was pretty sure Erin had a bit of a crush on Luke Chase. Harmless enough.

  "Sure," I said.

  To her disappointment, the boys were almost finished. She marched over to the long table that now ran along the wall opposite the windows and began wrestling with a metal folding chair.

  "Let me help you," I said.

  "I've got it."

  I smiled and left her to it. From the main room I heard Luke offer to help her. This time I didn't hear such a quick refusal.

  The front door opened. I turned to see Ruth Black stride in. She wore a bright red wool coat with a wild multi-colored scarf and cowboy boots. Her knitting bag hung from one hand.

  Maryjake called out a greeting, and Jude murmured something I couldn't hear. I said hello and walked over to where she'd plopped into the worn wooden chair next to Maryjake's desk.

  "Hi, everyone. Gosh, it's a busy evening here, isn't it?" Ruth said, looking at the pile of papers in front of Jude and cocking her head at the pounding that had commenced in the game room.

   

  "The Chase boys are putting up some shelves in the game room," I explained.

  "And a dartboard," Maryjake added, again. She seemed awfully excited about the dartboard.

  "Well, that's lovely," Ruth said. She shrugged out of her coat and retrieved a pair of circular knitting needles with something tweedy hanging off them.

  "Ruth? Did I get my scheduling mixed up?" I asked.

  "Hmmm? No, I don't think so." She went back to her knitting.

  I tried again. "Are you answering the Helpline tonight?"

  "Oh, no. I just stopped by to see how things were going here. And because I knew you'd be here."

  "Well, I'd sure appreciate the company," I said, thinking rather wistfully about that hardcover novel I'd brought with me. I hadn't had time to read for ages, and a nice slow evening answ
ering the occasional Helpline call had seemed like time with excellent reading potential.

  "Oh, that's sweet, honey. But I'm not staying long. I just wanted to see what you found out about those beets. Did I tell you those people from the Health Department came and took all of my canned goods? Jalepeno jelly and pickled cauliflower, even. Every last jar."

  Pickled cauliflower? Yuck.

  "You did mention it, Ruth. I'm so sorry. I know you must have had quite a store," I said.

  "A whole pantry full, plus everything we got from the preserves exchange the other night. I mean, Uncle Thad and I had made some inroads on last fall's canning over the winter, but there was an awful lot left. I think they ought to have to pay you when they take your food away like that."

   

  "But didn't they do it because of the botulism?" Jude asked.

  I glared at him, and his eyes widened.

  Ruth stopped knitting and stared at the wool on her lap, her still hands clutching the knitting needles. "Those weren't my beets that killed Philip," she said through clenched teeth. "Those beets came from someplace else." She looked up at me. "Did you find out anything?"

  I shook my head. "I'm sorry. No one I talked to, and I talked to everyone that was at the exchange-except Maryjake here, come to think of it. No one I talked to knew anything about canned beets. Apparently you're the only one who makes them."

  Ruth started knitting again. "Well, that's stupid. I can't be the only one who cans beets. And I keep telling you"-her voice rose now-"I keep telling you that I don't can beets like that. Sliced. Round. So someone else has to. My dear friend Hannah used to can them that way before she died, and I know it's how most people do it."

  "Yes, I'm sure someone else in Cadyville cans beets like-" I began.

  "What about you? Do you know anyone who cans beets?" Ruth asked Maryjake. Jude had returned to sifting through the pile of paperwork.

  "Did James tell you I called?" I added.