A Stoneybrook Mystery Collection

by Eryn Scott

  Hadley chewed on her lip, her forehead wrinkling in concern as she wondered what had happened last time.

  Brenda hunched down, sneered at the nurse, and then spun out of the waiting room. Hadley turned to look at Gran who shook her head sadly and went back to filling out her forms. Being new to town, Gran didn’t recognize Brenda, wouldn’t have registered the conversation as anything but a reason to feel sorry for the poor woman. But Hadley couldn’t brush it off so easily.

  Last time, the words were on repeat in her mind as if the nurse had yelled them, and they were still echoing throughout the cavernous waiting room.

  She organized the information as best she could. Brenda was at a clinic; she’d said she was in pain; she wasn’t allowed to see the doctor anymore. Did they think she was making it up? Could it be possible Brenda was mentally unstable? Enough to hurt her daughter?

  Hadley just couldn’t imagine Brenda having anything to do with the reason her daughter had gone missing. For having lived in Stoneybrook as long as Hadley had been alive, Brenda stayed low on the town’s gossip radar. Back when Hadley babysat Kelsey, she remembered Miranda often showing up, saying her mother was off at work. Brenda had been holding down two jobs back then, one working at home as a medical transcriptionist and the other as a waitress up in Cascade Ridge. She’d always been a hard worker, completely committed to giving her daughter the best life she could. The long days inherent with working two jobs wasn’t a new story for a single parent like Brenda, but it was an admirable one.

  People changed, though.

  Brenda no longer worked at the restaurant. Maybe something had happened. Maybe they’d let her go. It certainly would support Hadley’s conjecture about her being mentally unwell.

  But she couldn’t think much more on her speculations because her grandmother finished her paperwork and brought it up to the receptionist.

  “Dr. Kennedy will see you now, Mrs. James,” the nurse said, loudly enough that Hadley stood to join her grandmother as they led her back to the exam room.

  Other than the way Gran’s hand sometimes drifted subconsciously to her hip—making Hadley wonder if she was possibly in more pain than she let on—no one would be able to guess the woman was a recent recipient of a new hip. Still, she took her time climbing up onto the exam table, accepting Hadley’s help when she offered it. Hadley could imagine the fear of falling again would be in the front of Gran’s mind for a while still.

  With Gran perched on the exam table and Hadley sitting in one of the chairs, the two James women took in the sparsely decorated exam room. There were a few nicely framed photographs of the Cascade Mountain Range, but not much beyond that. Hadley pulled out her phone, checking social media for any mentions of Miranda, scouring her pages to see if there were any clues as to where she’d gone.

  The door opened just as Hadley finished scrolling through Miranda’s Instagram account, which—besides giving her a glimpse of Miranda’s new boyfriend—had been just as fruitless as all of the others.

  Dr. Kennedy, as his name tag assured Hadley, stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

  “Good afternoon,” he said, sliding a laptop onto the counter and settling onto the stool by the built-in desk. Flipping through Gran’s paperwork, he nodded. “And how’s that new hip treating you, Amelia?”

  “Just great,” Gran said. “I wanted to see if I could restart my physical therapy up here because I moved right at the end of my treatment down in Oregon.”

  Noticing Gran had left out any mention of pain, Hadley looked down at her feet. She didn’t want to speak up and embarrass her grandmother. The woman was in great shape and didn’t need someone coddling her. Still, Hadley couldn’t help but worry a little.

  Kennedy clicked his tongue. “Good for you for taking the time to finish that out. A lot of people would’ve called it good, but would’ve regretted it later when they didn't have the range of movement they used to. And”—he glanced up from his charts—“how long have you been experiencing pain in the hip?” he asked.

  Gran blinked. Hadley bit back a smile. He was good.

  “Well, I had a long car ride Friday, moving up here and all. Ever since then, it’s been a bit achy.” Her hand moved to the hip again.

  Hadley sighed in relief.

  “Sitting for long periods of time can do that for sure. You might also feel a bit of a difference with the colder air, at first. I’m going to prescribe you something to help just in case it gets to a place where you can’t manage it. It’s a small amount, but you let me know if you need more.” He watched her, waiting until Gran confirmed to click the button on his laptop. “And I’ve put in the request to continue PT with our therapists.”

  Gran and Hadley thanked the doctor, who pointed them in the direction of the physical therapy wing. After filling out the necessary paperwork with them, Gran set up her first appointment for the following week.

  Smiling wider than she had before, Gran took in a long breath when they stepped out into the parking lot. “I’m famished. Any place you know of where we could get something to eat?” Gran winked.

  “Absolutely. What do you feel like?” Hadley asked as they reached the Jam Van.

  “Something sweet.”

  Hadley grinned. “I know just the place.”

  Mickie’s bakery would have the perfect treat for an afternoon with her grandmother. It was also directly across the street from Dennis’s sweet shop, and Hadley wanted to ask Mickie if she’d noticed anything odd last week before Miranda had gone missing. Seeing Brenda Walters in such a state today had given Hadley a bad feeling, one that only seemed to sink further into her bones.

  10

  If Gran questioned why Hadley didn’t turn toward Cascade Ridge, instead turning the Jam Van back toward Stoneybrook, she didn’t let it show.

  Hadley couldn’t stand the number of chains present in the larger city and always preferred to support her small town if she could, even if it meant waiting twenty minutes longer to eat.

  Before long, they pulled into a parking spot toward the south end of Stoneybrook’s Main Street. The lime-green-and-white awning hung over the perfectly painted sign that read, Bake and Flake. When Hadley and Gran entered, the warm smell of baked bread wrapped around them, warming Hadley’s bones like no blanket ever could. The front half of the store was a maze of five small tables with mismatched chairs, and the back half was where the doughy magic happened.

  Mickie, one of Hadley’s favorite people ever, stood behind a large stainless-steel table set back behind the glass display case full of golden-brown creations that looked soft, crusty, and amazing. She glanced up from the dough she was kneading and shot Hadley her signature wide smile.

  “Is this the famous Gran, finally?” she asked, wiping off her hands and heading over to the sink to wash up.

  Mickie had been out of the country during Hadley and Tyler’s wedding, so she’d missed meeting a good portion of Hadley’s relatives, Gran included.

  “The one and only,” Hadley said.

  “Mickie,” the baker said, holding out her hand to shake once it was clean.

  “Nice to meet you,” Gran said. “I hear you make the best bread in town. If the smell in here is any indication, I think I’d have to agree.”

  Mickie bowed slightly. “I try my best.” She turned to Hadley. “How you doing, Had?”

  “Can’t complain,” she answered. Then, noticing the pin with Marissa’s picture stuck to Mickie’s collar, she added, “Given the circumstances.”

  Mickie nodded. Even though the woman wasn’t technically family anymore—being Hadley’s ex-husband’s aunt—she and Hadley had always had a strong bond, one that had only been strengthened by the divorce.

  “What can I get you two today?” she asked.

  Hadley ordered a few of her favorites, including a loaf of sourdough for the week, and Gran pointed out a few treats to add to the box. As Mickie readied their baked goods, Hadley and Gran stepped over to the register.

&nbs
p; Mickie was a brilliant baker and one of the more organized people Hadley had ever met. Her baking area was spotless save for the projects she was currently working on, but the woman definitely had one area of weakness: the way she took orders.

  The woman wrote her orders on three-by-five note cards and then clipped them to a piece of string she ran across the back wall in the same order in which she needed to get them ready. Her various notes were scrawled across the note card in her scratchy handwriting. And each time the front door or an oven door opened, the line of note cards swayed, fluttered, and swung.

  Skeptical as Hadley was about her method, Mickie had only ever been late on one order—it had fallen and slipped underneath one of the stoves, but she’d found it a couple of hours before it was due for pickup, so she’d had it almost ready by the time the customer had arrived.

  It had been a while since the last time Hadley was in the bakery, so she scanned the order note cards, squinting slightly to read. She’d always had fun trying to place the orders with different upcoming celebrations.

  Thea ordered a dozen donuts. I bet her grandkids are coming to visit for a weekend. Oh, and Barry’s ordered his usual two-dozen dinner rolls. That order wasn’t about celebrations, seeing how Barry—a widower—froze the rolls and heated one up with his dinner each night. He always said he was a decent enough cook, but a disastrous baker.

  As Hadley’s gaze landed on the third note card in from the right, her breath caught in her throat. Suze’s name was scribbled on the top of the card. The word cake was barely legible underneath. In fact … did it say wedding cake?

  Mickie glanced up from the register and let out a quick yip when she noticed where Hadley was looking. “Oh! Um … did you know I made biscotti?” she asked, pointing to a jar of the hard, chocolate-dipped desserts next to her.

  Frowning, Hadley said, “Yeah … you’ve been making biscotti for years.” She tried again to read the note card hanging in the back.

  “Not this kind.” Mickie opened the jar, used tongs to grab out a biscuit, then put it in the box along with their other purchases. “I’ll throw one in for free so you can try the new flavor.” Mickie took a step to the right, effectively blocking Hadley’s view of the orders. “Heard anything more from Paul about Miranda?” she asked as Gran wandered off to grab a table.

  Hadley shook her head, still reeling from what she might have seen on the order card. But Mickie bringing up Paul reminded Hadley she needed to let her brother know about the scene she and Gran had been privy to at the hospital that morning.

  “I heard Cassie’s in hot water.” Mickie plopped the box of goodies on the counter.

  A wave of sugary dough wafted up to meet Hadley, almost stealing her attention enough that she didn’t quite register what Mickie had said at first.

  “What do you mean?” She shook her head.

  Hadley recognized the glint in Mickie’s eye, the same one she saw whenever a Stoneybrook citizen realized they had new information to share.

  “She lied to the police the first time.”

  Shoulders sagging slightly, Hadley waved a hand at Mickie. “Oh. Yeah. I thought everyone knew what a hard time Paul had getting her to talk at first.”

  “No,” Mickie said. “This wasn’t just being tight-lipped. She told Paul she didn’t go out at all after Miranda’s boyfriend picked her up at eleven, but the neighbors say they definitely saw headlights driving away from the Lee house after midnight. You know those fancy white-blue ones only luxury cars like hers have.”

  “Could it have been her parents?” Hadley asked, knowing the Lees had more than one luxury vehicle.

  Mickie shook her head. “Her parents were off seeing a show in Seattle. They stayed the night in a hotel, didn’t even get back until midday. Cassie was home alone.”

  “Huh.” Hadley handed over money to pay for their purchases when the total showed up on the register. “That is odd.” She wondered if this meant anything else Cassie had told Paul was a lie as well. “What about you?” she asked Mickie. “You see anything odd last week?” Hadley gestured behind her toward the sweet shop.

  Mickie sighed. “No, but I keep wracking my brain, trying to think of something, anything. I close up too early in the day and usually just see Miranda coming into work as I’m leaving.”

  “Right,” Hadley said, absentmindedly picking at her nails. She noticed and grabbed the box off the counter to give her hands something to do. “Thanks, Mick.”

  “Anytime.” Mickie waved, staying suspiciously still—in fact, just in the right spot so Hadley couldn’t see the order note card.

  Hadley tucked the bakery box under one arm. Focusing on her grandmother, who was sitting a few feet away at a little bistro table, she realized the woman was touching her new hip.

  “You doing okay, Gran?”

  The woman looked down and pulled her hand away as if she’d just realized it was burning hot. “Oh, I’m fine.”

  But Hadley couldn’t help but worry. Her grandmother had been out and about all day. There was a distinct sag to her shoulders.

  “Let me take you home. I can make us some tea while we eat some of these treats.”

  Gran nodded, then hooked her arm through Hadley’s as they walked back to the Jam Van.

  After a nice time visiting with Gran and her parents, Hadley drove back into town to drop off the van and grab her bike. Sure, the days were getting colder, but it seemed extravagant to drive the big van around when she didn’t need to. She would save those days for the times when the snow was too thick for it to be safe riding her bike.

  Parking the van and checking that the kitchen was fully secured for the night, she swung her leg over the bike and pedaled out onto Main Street. Unlike other towns, where Sundays were sleepy days filled with few obligations, Stoneybrook was a tourist town year-round and was especially busy on cloudless, blue-sky days like today.

  Shoppers crowded the quaint sidewalks, and cars lined Main Street, filling up almost all of the available parking spots. While Hadley had worked that morning with Gran, it was only because she was desperately low on supplies. Sunday was normally her day off, since she only used her space as a kitchen, not a retail space.

  It would take a hefty renovation to turn the front section of her kitchen into a place suitable to sell her jams, but it was something she’d always planned on doing; she just lacked the capital to do so. Almost. She happily mused that once she had her storefront, she would have to change around her schedule to accommodate working both Saturday and Sunday each weekend.

  Her bike tires whirred as she sped down the road. Even the fall chill remaining in the air wasn’t enough to keep Hadley from tipping her head back to soak in some of the warm rays. As Main Street curved closer to the river, Hadley spotted something light-colored in the middle of the road. It appeared Hadley wasn’t the only one who was enjoying gathering some Vitamin D. Road cat was lying in the middle of Main Street, its tail flicking with annoyance as it spotted Hadley biking toward it.

  Similar to yesterday, it didn’t move the closer she got.

  Hadley pulled her bike off to the side of the road a few yards away from the cat and stepped off her bike. The cat’s brown ears swiveled in her direction, but it didn’t even turn to look at her.

  “Hey … you need to quit hanging out in the middle of the road. It’s dangerous.”

  The cat yawned.

  “I know the road is warm with all of this sun we’re getting today, but I’m sure you could find a safer place to sunbathe.”

  A deep breath lifted and lowered the cat’s rib cage.

  Engaging her kickstand, Hadley wondered if she could catch the beast, sun-drunk and sleepy enough it might allow her to pick it up this time.

  “Marigold Lane is one thing. It’s a fairly quiet street. But you’re on Main Street now.”

  She was about to step closer to the animal when the sound of an engine humming in acceleration came around the curve. Her gaze flashed up just in time to see Cassandra
Lee’s flashy convertible zoom around the corner, straight at the road cat.

  11

  Hadley’s heart leaped into her throat as she looked from the fast-moving convertible to the cat lying in the road. The cat flicked its tail, but simply stared down the car as if willing it to swerve around, just like Hadley had done with her bike.

  But Cassie didn’t seem to see anything … not even the lines on the road as she veered over the yellow.

  If Hadley didn’t do something, Cassie was going to hit the road cat.

  She waved her arms at the oncoming car, hoping to catch Cassie’s attention, but either the girl couldn’t see out of her giant, dark-tinted sunglasses or she wasn’t looking up.

  For a stupid split second, Hadley thought about jumping in front of the car in an attempt to grab the cat before the car could reach it. Luckily, her rational brain rejected the idea instantly. Silly as it had been, it gave her a different idea.

  Popping the kickstand of her bike up with her heel, she pulled the bike back, ducked slightly to line up the tires, and then pushed it into the road. It was a gamble. Seeing the bike head straight at it had not deterred the cat either of the times since she met it.

  Hadley cringed, wanting so badly to close her eyes but needing to see her plan through.

  The skinny tires whirled around once, twice, three times as the bike coasted straight for the cat. The creature stared back in defiance, flicking between the car and the bike. Hadley yelled something incoherent, unsure whether she was hoping to scare the cat or Cassie, or both.

  Her heart was in her throat, along with the remnants of her mangled yell. The bike slowed without a rider to pump the pedals. But just before the bike crashed into the cat, the feline scurried off to the ditch on the other side of the road.

  Blood pulsed in Hadley’s ears, sounding deafeningly loud until it was replaced by the screech of tires and the crash of metal upon metal. Her hands instinctively reached up to cover her eyes. Before she could even peel them away, she knew what removing them would reveal.