Scone Cold Killer

by Lena Gregory

  What could she say to that? It’s okay? It wasn’t okay. They were friends, and Bree had betrayed her by sleeping with her husband. That was far from okay. “What’s done is done, Bree.”

  That was the best she could do. If Bree needed more to absolve her sins, she’d have to look elsewhere.

  She cried softly for a minute, then sniffed. “What were you calling for?”

  “Bradley’s dead.”

  She gasped and let out a strangled cry.

  “I’m living in Florida now, and he was found dead in a dumpster behind my café. The police seem to think he was trying to contact me for something, but no one knows what. I was hoping you could shed some light on what he might have been looking for.” She waited, giving Bree time to compose herself.

  “I’m sorry, Gia. I… I haven’t seen or heard from Bradley in a long time.”

  “You were in the courtroom when he was sentenced.” Gia had seen her sitting in the back of the courtroom as far from Gia as she could get.

  “Yes, but not to support him. He stopped talking to me long before he was arrested.”

  No wonder she was so apologetic. Apparently, Bradley had dumped her. Although she felt bad for Bree, she’d be lying if she didn’t admit to some small sense of satisfaction.

  “I’m sorry I can’t help you, Gia. Maybe I’ll see you around some time?”

  “Sure.” Probably not. “Thanks.”

  Bree disconnected without saying good-bye.

  Another dead end. Gia just couldn’t seem to catch a break. Someone had to know what was going on, if only she could figure out who. She fed Thor and played with him in the backyard for a couple of hours, then put him in his crate. “I’ll be back in a little while, boy.”

  On her way into the café, she stopped at the doggie daycare center and registered Thor. If she was going back to work tomorrow, she had to put him somewhere he’d be happy. No way was he spending most of his day in a cage. He could have done that at the shelter.

  Then she stopped at a salad bar and got lunch to go. By the time she reached the café, she was starved. She parked out front, in no hurry to return to the back lot, then sat looking at the café. Her pride and joy. The one thing she’d worked so hard for. Tainted by her past.

  The fear of going back in there after seeing that giant spider held her captive. She thought about calling Savannah to go in with her, but she had no doubt Savannah would leave work to help her, and she didn’t want to put her friend in that position.

  Her stomach growled, motivating her to stop procrastinating. Leaving the car and the air conditioning running, she slid her seat back, opened her salad, and ate it in the car. She told herself it would be easier to start cleaning up the mess as soon as she got in, but she knew it was a lie.

  Once she was done eating, she rolled up the bag, got out of the car, and tossed it into the nearest garbage pail. Then she stood looking at her café. It was now or never. If she couldn’t even walk in the front door, she may as well get on the next flight back to New York.

  She took a deep breath, braced herself, and strode toward the door. Nothing would take what she’d worked so hard for. Not Bradley, not whoever was stalking her, not her own fear. Nothing.

  Her hand shook as she slid the key into the lock.

  “Excuse me?” A man’s voice startled her.

  She whirled on him and dropped the keys. “Oh, jeez, you scared me half to death.”

  Twin patches of red popped up on his cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “That’s okay.”

  He bent and retrieved her keys, then handed them to her and held out a hand. “I’m Trevor Barnes.”

  She accepted his handshake. “Gia Morelli.”

  “I know. I-I mean, I know who you are, but not in a creepy, weird, stalkery kind of way, just in a, I’ve heard your name and figured it was you kind of way. I mean…uh…”

  Gia couldn’t help but smile. He had to be in his early thirties, but his awkwardness made him seem younger. Not only his demeanor, but his lanky build as well, tall and thin with long arms and legs. He kind of reminded her of Thor, who hadn’t grown into his too big paws yet.

  Trevor’s short brown hair hung a little long in the front across his eyes, and he brushed it back as he spoke. “I’m sorry. Let me try again. I’m Trevor, and I own the ice cream shop just down the road. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, too, Trevor.”

  “Anyway, I won’t keep you. I just wanted to introduce myself and let you know I’m sorry about the break-in. I called the police as soon as I noticed the flashlight beam, but I don’t know how long the intruder was in there before I happened by.”

  “Wait. You called the police? Thank you. I assumed the alarm summoned them.”

  He shook his head. “There was no alarm going. I stopped at a friend’s house after work, and I was on my way home when I noticed the light, like a flashlight beam. I might not have thought much of it, but then I noticed the broken door.”

  “Well, thank you very much for calling the police, and for noticing.”

  He stood a little straighter. “You’re very welcome. We look out for each other around here.”

  “That’s comforting to know.”

  “Was there a lot of damage?” He gestured toward the plywood now covering the front door.

  “Nah, not really. Just the door, and someone will be here today to fix it.”

  “That’s good. I hope they didn’t take too much.”

  “Actually, I don’t think they took anything.” She unlocked the door. “It was a pleasure meeting you. If you’re around tomorrow morning, come in for breakfast. My treat as a thank-you.”

  He blushed an even deeper shade of red. “Thank you. I’d like that. You’re opening tomorrow? I…uh…” He pulled his T-shirt collar down a bit as if it was choking him. “I heard, you know, about the trouble… Anyway, I wasn’t sure you’d be open for a while.”

  “The police finished their investigation of the café, and I would have opened today, if not for the damage.”

  “Oh, forgive my manners. Please, let me help you get this cleaned up.” He started forward.

  “Actually, I’m waiting for the insurance guy to come check it out. He’ll be here in a little while. I can’t clean up until he comes.”

  “Oh, right. Of course.” He started to back away. “Well, if you want, I could come back later. You know, after he leaves, and I could help clean up.”

  “You’re welcome to stop by any time. Thank you.”

  His smile brightened his already brilliant blue eyes even more. “Thank you. I’d like that.” He started away, then turned back. “Welcome to the neighborhood.”

  After thanking him again, she turned back to the shop and braced herself. The thought of calling Trevor back to go into the café with her flickered through her mind, but she quickly dismissed it. She pulled open the door and strode through.

  Glass crunched beneath her feet. Shadows hung over the foyer where the plywood covered the door, and she quickly flipped on the lights. Better. She scanned every inch of the floor she could see, trying to peek into as many of the nooks and crannies as possible. She moved through the shop tentative at first, terrified at any moment one of those creatures would come rushing out from his hiding spot and give her a heart attack. Or worse.

  She stopped walking halfway to the counter and stood in the middle of the dining room. Her heart’s erratic beating made her lightheaded. Her hands shook violently as she lifted her hair from the back of her neck, letting the air conditioning someone had left running cool the sweat soaking the back of her neck.

  The front door opened, and she whirled toward it.

  “Hey, there.” Earl picked his way carefully through the glass. “You okay? Look like you seen a ghost.”

 
She couldn’t even imagine how pale she must look, especially in a state where you could easily keep a year-round tan. “Hi, Earl. It’s great to see you. I’m fine, thank you. Just a little…overwhelmed.”

  He looked around. “I can see that.”

  “I’m sorry I can’t offer you breakfast. I’ll be open for breakfast tomorrow, though. I can make coffee now if you’d like.”

  “No, thank you. Don’t go through any trouble. I was down the street and saw you come in, so I figured I’d stop and say hello.” He shifted from one foot to the other, looking around the café. Was he avoiding eye contact?

  “Is everything all right, Earl? Do you want to sit? I have tea in the fridge.”

  He held up his hands. “No, no, thank you. I just wanted to let you know I’m sorry for your trouble, and I’ll still be comin’ in for breakfast once you get open. I…uh…” He finally met her gaze. “Rumor has it, you killed your ex and stuffed him in the dumpster out back.…”

  She gasped.

  “But, well, I just wanted to make sure you know I don’t believe gossip.”

  Tears threatened, but she held them back. “Thank you, Earl. I appreciate that more than you know.”

  “Well, then. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Bright and early.” He nodded and tipped his fisherman’s cap, then grinned. “And don’t forget the grits.”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t.” Gia watched him go, then stood in the middle of her shattered dreams. She had no doubt Earl’s words had been meant as a warning. Boggy Creek was a small, close-knit community. If she’d been labeled a killer, her business had probably died with her ex.

  What a mess. At least Earl’s visit had released the panic that had been gripping her. She might not be able to clean up the glass yet, but there was plenty of other stuff to do. After searching thoroughly, mop in hand, for anything creepy in the supply closet, she grabbed a garbage bag and set to work. If she was to open tomorrow, she’d have to get everything cleaned up and prep for breakfast. Hunt had promised he’d have someone to replace the glass for her as soon as the insurance guy left with his pictures.

  She collected the coffee cups that had been left lying around while the police had conducted their investigation and threw them into the garbage bag, then washed the coffee pots and started a fresh pot. She went through the food she had left in stock. Stale muffins went in the garbage, as did the leftover bagels and rolls. The refrigerated food was fine, but she had to toss the breakfast pies she’d made Sunday night in preparation for Monday morning’s breakfast crowd. They would have been fine in the refrigerator overnight, but a few days had left them looking dried out and unappealing. She’d make some more later. She’d have to fry fresh bacon as well. Oh, and she had to go to the store for grits. She’d have to remember to look up a recipe later.

  She tied up the garbage bags and set them by the back door. The thought of going out to the dumpster didn’t appeal. She’d just toss the bags in her trunk when she was leaving and throw them out at home. Of course, she couldn’t do that every day.

  She yanked a rag from the bin beneath the register with a little more force than necessary and slammed her funny bone on the edge of the counter behind her. “Ouch.”

  She threw the rag onto the counter and massaged her elbow. What was she doing? Why even bother opening? So she could fail even more miserably than she already had?

  The door opened, and a man walked in.

  She glanced at the driftwood clock on the wall above the cutout to the kitchen. Too early for the insurance adjuster. At the rate men were coming in this morning, maybe she’d forget about getting the glass replaced and just put in a revolving door. Hopefully, the steady stream kept up tomorrow morning when she opened. “Hi. Can I help you?”

  “Mornin’, ma’am.” He crossed the shop and held out a hand. “Mark Cooper.”

  She shook his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Cooper. I’m Gia Morelli.”

  “Call me Mark.” He took a quick look around the shop. “Are you the owner?”

  “Yes. What can I help you with?”

  “Actually, I want to help you.”

  She quirked a brow.

  “Are you open for business yet?”

  “Well, I was…” She gestured toward the mess by the front door. “But as you can see, I’ve had a bit of a setback.” No need to mention the body found in the dumpster if he hadn’t already heard the story. “I plan on opening tomorrow morning, though.”

  “That’s perfect, then. I’m new in the area, and I’m looking for a job.”

  “Do you have any experience?” She’d already called Willow to let her know the shop would be opening again tomorrow if she wanted to return to work. Thankfully, she was excited to come back. Maybelle, on the other hand, had insisted she couldn’t possibly work for a killer. That rush to judgment was the thanks Gia got for deciding to give the woman another chance. At least she’d saved Gia the trouble of firing her.

  “I worked the breakfast shift in a busy diner right off the turnpike in Jersey for like, oh, I don’t know… I guess about three or four years.”

  Hope flared. Maybe things were starting to look up.

  “As a cook?”

  “Yup.”

  “How long have you been in Florida?”

  He wore jeans and a tunic style top. A shark’s tooth hung from a leather cord, peeking from his open collar. Brown hair, highlighted with streaks of blond, skimmed his shoulders. He’d rock the surfer dude look, if not for the pale skin and dark circles under his eyes.

  “Not long. I’m looking for a place to rent too. Someone mentioned an empty apartment above the café. If you’re looking to rent it out…” He spread his hands wide and smiled.

  The idea of having someone who knew what he was doing take over the kitchen did appeal, but she’d learned her lesson with Maybelle. The last thing she needed was another employee she’d have to get rid of, or at least hope quit, especially if she agreed to rent him the apartment.

  “I’ll tell you what,” Mark started. “I’m not doing anything for the rest of the day anyway, and you must have a lot of prep work to do if you’re opening in the morning. How about if I give you a hand, no charge, for the next few hours. I’ll help you prep, and if you’re happy with my work, you’ll give me a chance. If not, then I’ll be on my way and you’re not out anything.”

  How could she argue with that? She smiled and shook his hand, the soft, smooth hand of a banker or a lawyer, not a cook who washed his hands all day long. Still… “You’ve got yourself a deal, Mr. Cooper.”

  “Mark.”

  “Mark. Thank you.”

  “Just point me toward the kitchen.” He rubbed his hands together.

  She only hoped his skill matched his eagerness to work as she walked with him toward the kitchen.

  “I assume you’ll need at least a few pounds of bacon precooked.”

  “Yes.” Though she couldn’t be sure how many customers she’d get, she had to be prepared. “And I want to make up some breakfast pies for the display dishes out front.”

  He nodded as she showed him around the kitchen and the supply closet, pointing out everything he was likely to need.

  When she finished the tour, she stuck the breakfast pie recipe above the grill for him. “You can start with the bacon, because you’ll need it for the pies.”

  “What about home fries and grits? You’ll have to soak the grits tonight if they’re going to be ready for the morning. If you want, I can start those while the bacon’s cooking. I can’t very well stand here and watch bacon fry when I could be getting something else done.” He unwrapped a leather cord from around his wrist and tied his hair back, then washed his hands.

  “You know how to make grits?” And how to multitask? Okay, she could possibly be in love. He might just be the perfect man.

  “Of course. What
would a southern breakfast be without them?”

  Right. Where was this guy Sunday morning when she’d opened? “Unfortunately, I don’t have any grits right now, and I can’t run out because I’m waiting for the insurance adjuster.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll run out and pick some up, then I’ll come back and get started.”

  “You’re sure you don’t mind?”

  “Are you kidding me? A job and possibly a place to stay are riding on me getting everything just right. Of course, I don’t mind. I’ll be right back.”

  Uh oh. She hadn’t agreed to rent him the apartment, just to hire him.

  “Do you need anything else while I’m out?”

  “Um…” She needed a cook anyway, and if he was as good as he seemed to be, he’d be perfect for the job. But having him live upstairs? “Sure. I could actually use a few things, and you’ll save me a trip to the store.”

  She scribbled a short list, then dug money out of her bag and handed them to him.

  “Be back in a jiff.”

  She’d just wait and see what happened when he came back. If he came back. Who knew? The way her luck was going lately, he’d probably skip town with the twenties she’d given him to pick up the supplies.

  By the time the insurance adjuster arrived, she was already thrilled with her new employee. He’d returned with everything she’d needed, fried up the bacon, started cutting vegetables for the omelets and pies, and had the grits soaking. What more could she ask for?

  When the insurance adjuster left, she approached Mark. “Everything looks great, Mark. Thank you.”

  “Ahh…but you haven’t even tasted my signature dish yet?”

  “Oh?”

  “Homemade hash and eggs.” He held out a paper plate with a spoonful of hash and a bit of scrambled egg over the top and handed her a fork. “Give it a try.”

  She put the plate on the counter, cut off a piece of egg and hash, and took a small bite. She’d never tasted hash so good. “Oh, mmm… This is delicious.”