Death by Scones

by Jennifer Fischetto

  Before leaving, I took a quick inventory of the cookies and muffins Joe had created that we hadn't put out in the displays yet. Normally, we'd already be on this second batch of deliciousness. If these items hadn't been sold by morning, I'd have to tell Joe to stay home. Of course, that would mean calling Mrs. Hendrickson tonight to find out. Darn.

  I grabbed a carrot cake muffin, sunk my teeth into its firm softness, and softly moaned as the flavors of cinnamon and nutmeg caressed my tongue. I enjoyed eating as much as I loved baking.

  After inhaling the muffin, I wheeled my bike out of the bakery's back door and decided to stop by Nathan's again. I wanted to see Max and to find out more information. Not only did I have Mom and Nathan questions, and who killed Nathan questions, but now I added in Nathan and his siblings questions. They may not have been my business, but I didn't care. I wanted to know everything I could about this mysterious and puzzling man. Aside from the curiosity of him and Mom, the best way to figure out who killed him was by learning who wanted him dead. And since he was a recluse, I had no idea where to begin finding these suspects. Other than his own sisters perhaps. Gloria spoke about Nathan's estate and money as if she'd really wanted it.

  The white Camry sat in the driveway, and two other cars—both black rentals—were parked on the street in front of the house. When I braked, the neighbor peeked out from the side of his bush, in the exact same spot he'd been the last time I saw him. He wore the same trousers and T-shirt from last time too, but instead of red suspenders, he now wore green ones. Several strands of his white hair were stuck together on the top of his head, which gave him a birdlike look.

  I stopped, thinking he wanted to say something, but he just stood there staring at me. How odd. Was he always out here, or did he rush out when he heard someone approaching? If he weren't borderline creepy, I'd try to grill him. I would've been shocked if he hadn't observed and learned some interesting tidbits about the Dearborns this past week.

  A loud sound boomed from inside the house. I flinched, and so did the neighbor. The front door swung open, and Gloria stormed from the house. She didn't seem to see me as she stomped down the walkway. A nauseating cloud of rose perfume followed her.

  Max appeared at the door. His face was pink and scrunched up in fury. "Age has nothing to do with it," he shouted.

  Gloria stopped, looked back, and snarled. I expected her to yell a response, but she just continued to her car. Shifting it into gear, she peeled out of there, complete with screeching tires and the wretched scent of burning rubber.

  Max blinked twice, then looked straight at me. That was when he noticed me. Instantly his expression softened. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Riley, I'm sorry you saw that."

  "That's fine. You should've seen some of the arguments I had with my grandmother when I was younger. You have some time?"

  He still looked frazzled but waved me over. "Sure, come on in."

  I followed him inside and back to the kitchen. One day I hoped to make it into the other rooms. His aunt Holly was seated at the table, eating a bowl of cereal. She scooped a huge spoonful of multicolored marshmallows into her mouth. She eyed me, but I couldn't tell what she was thinking with all that chewing going on.

  "I hope I'm not interrupting," I said.

  Max glanced at his aunt in disgust. "No, Aunt Holly and Aunt Gloria thought they'd come over to mooch."

  Wow, I couldn't imagine speaking to Uncle Doug or Aunt Bernie like that.

  Holly glared at him, then lifted her bowl and held it to her mouth. Once she finished slurping the milk, with loud sounds and all, she stood, placed the bowl in the sink, and wiped away the milk mustache with the back of her hand. "I'll get out of your way now. Thanks for being the ever-so-gracious man you've always been, nephew."

  She walked out without a glance to me. Several seconds later, the front door slammed.

  "Family," Max said with a half smile.

  "Are they always like this?" I asked, sat at the table, and smoothed away a wrinkle in my blue-and-white paisley bell-bottom pants. They weren't officially from the 1970s. I ordered them online a month ago from a shop that loved the past as much as I did.

  He scratched the top of his head. He wore jeans, a white tank top, and no shoes. That seemed to be his normal attire. "Aunt Holly's usually not dramatic. Aunt Gloria's the hothead."

  I frowned. If I had to guess, I'd say that Gloria was a Sagittarius or maybe an Aries. Something fiery. "I take it you've never been close, or is this just a grieving thing?"

  He looked pensive. "I spent most of my life in New Jersey. It's where my parents moved due to my father's job. Aunt Gloria and Aunt Holly weren't a big part of my life. I think I've only seen them five times total."

  Interesting.

  "Were you close to your uncle?" I asked.

  He chuckled. "No one was close to Uncle Nathan, at least not in the past decade or so. I do, however, remember him fondly from when I was a kid. He traveled a lot because of his film career, and he visited us often. He and my dad were close."

  Max seemed to be the only person who had pleasant memories of the man. Other than Mrs. Hendrickson and possibly Mom, if she were alive.

  "Was he close with his sisters?"

  Max shrugged. "I'm not sure, but from the way they speak about him, I doubt it."

  "Then why are they here?"

  Something glinted in his eye. "For a possible inheritance. And as you now know, they weren't left anything."

  I knew it. "But they came here believing they inherited something?"

  He nodded and poured water into a teakettle. "They assumed he would've been generous considering he was their brother. I guess they didn't take their relationships into consideration or that Uncle Nathan had changed over the years."

  "Why?" I asked. Hey, if he wasn't going to tell me to shut up, I'd keep grilling him. "Why did he change?"

  Another pensive gaze took over Max's face. Then he shrugged. "He went through some life-changing moments."

  There was something more there, something Max was deliberately not saying. I guessed some family secrets were to remain hidden. Okay, so back to the aunts.

  "Why aren't Holly and Gloria staying here rather than renting a room?"

  He let out one loud chuckle. "They didn't like that I was made executor of the will, especially since I'm not a sibling. They keep saying Uncle Nathan was sexist, and it's only because I'm male, and that they couldn't stay in the home of such a person."

  "Was he? Sexist?"

  Max glanced out the window. "I don't know. But with all their accusations and insults they still…" He looked into the sink.

  "Come by and eat his food?"

  "Yes." He set the kettle on the stove.

  If they assumed they were in Nathan's will, they had a motive to kill him.

  "How long have they been in town?" I hoped my questions still sounded like casual snooping rather than specific interrogating.

  He pulled out a box of tea bags from a cabinet to the left of the stove. "As long as I have, I assume. I got the call from Uncle Nathan's lawyer the day after he died. I took the next plane out. When I arrived, the lawyer met me here with the key. They showed up a couple of hours later."

  That didn't mean they hadn't been here before then though. Maybe they had come for a visit, tried to get money out of their dear estranged brother, and when he refused, they decided to get rid of him so they could get to his money. But how could I prove any of this?

  "What's with all the questions?" Max stared at me.

  I decided to be as honest as I could without giving away too much knowledge. I really didn't want Max to suspect me. He was my key to Nathan's life.

  "I feel bad that your uncle died in my business, and I find it so interesting that he lived his life without very many people in it. As humans, we seek out companionship. But not him."

  Max turned back to the cupboards and took down two mugs. "Some people prefer being alone."

  I thought of Mom. She ha
dn't had a group of friends. She was content with just her family. "Did your uncle ever mention a Lily Templeton?" I asked, using Mom's maiden name.

  Max looked at me and stared for a hard second. "I don't recall."

  Okay, so that wouldn't lead anywhere.

  "And you?" I asked. "How long are you staying for?"

  "I've decided not to leave. Uncle Nathan left me this house, and I don't see the reason in selling just yet. This wasn't just Uncle Nathan's home, but the house they all grew up in."

  Seriously? "Well, no wonder Holly and Gloria are so upset. This is their family home too."

  Max looked away and nodded. "Yeah."

  "And you're able to just leave your job and family and stay here indefinitely?"

  He smiled, displaying a dimple in his right cheek only. "I'm a freelance photographer. I go to where the work is. And my mother is perfectly happy with her knitting club, church choir, and her walking group. She won't even notice I'm gone. Plus, she gave her blessing." He gave a sheepish grin. It seemed as if they were close. He was lucky.

  As for the rest of his family though, it felt like there was something else going on here. What secrets was Max holding on to about his uncle? Being executor of the will, he must have known Nathan's wishes long before he'd died. Was it possible that Max killed his uncle to get his estate?

  * * *

  "Okay, I can't stay long. I have two classes tonight," Tara said and sat at Grams' kitchen table, between Amber and me. They were each in their normal wear of black leggings and a tunic for Tara (today's was red) and jeans and a T-shirt (olive green) for Amber. I tried to make my attire always a surprise, and I wore a short beige skirt with embroidered black flowers, and a thin, short-sleeve black sweater.

  Amber had brought over tortilla chips and salsa, and I'd prepared a salad of baby greens, avocado, tomato, cocktail shrimp, and feta cheese with balsamic vinaigrette.

  I handed each of them a plate and fork and lifted a pen and a pad of paper and got ready to jot down any tidbits of info we came up with to work on later. "Okay, since we're working against the clock, let's get to business."

  "Why are we doing this?" Tara asked as she filled half her plate with salad. "I wasn't listening when you called earlier."

  Amber snickered.

  I laughed. "Thanks a lot."

  "Sorry," Tara said. "I had a new customer walk in. A four-year-old little girl and her super hot father. Too bad he had a ring on his finger."

  "Yes, it's a shame he wasn't divorced or widowed," I teasingly said with a chuckle.

  She waved away my words. "Hush. You know what I mean. So why are we here?"

  I stared at my notepad. "We're going to work through the few clues we have and try to figure out who killed Nathan so I can get my business back to normal."

  Tara dipped a chip into the salsa. "Normal? What's going on?"

  Amber said, "We had more business before Nathan's death. It's been kinda slow."

  "Maybe it's just slow now," Tara said, offering her support.

  I shook my head. "It's May. This is the time we usually start picking up again. People want to be outside. Grab a muffin and walk down Main Street or take the trolley to the pier. And I don't think this is because Nathan died there. Business was fine until news traveled that he'd died of a peanut allergy. That can't be a coincidence."

  Tara and Amber exchanged worried glances. Luckily, neither tried to tell me it would be okay.

  "Okay, so let's do this. What do we have already?" Tara asked.

  I glanced to the notes I'd previously scribbled. "Black gloves, moccasin with yellow stain, scones, e-mail. That pretty much sums it up."

  "So you think the killer sent the e-mail?" Tara asked.

  I shrugged. "Well yeah, how else would he get Nathan to the bakery?"

  Tara shook her head. "Nah, that doesn't make sense. Nathan stayed in his house twenty-four seven. He probably had someone deliver his groceries, right?"

  I nodded, not sure where she was going with this.

  "So if the man can't run out for eggs, why would he come to the bakery for a cupcake? Even though they are absolutely amazing cupcakes." She smirked.

  She had a point. "There had to be another reason he went there. And it had to be pretty big."

  Where should we do this?

  I repeated his words to them. "That's what he said to me when he arrived."

  "Sounds a bit perverted," Tara said.

  I laughed, because we sometimes shared the same brain. "He was definitely there for a specific reason. Maybe something he thought I would help him with?"

  Tara and I just stared at one another. I had no clue what that something could have been though.

  "Then who sent out the e-mail?" Amber asked and bit down on a piece of shrimp.

  I had no clue about that either. "It couldn't have been a coincidence."

  Tara stabbed her salad with her fork. "Nothing ever is to you."

  True. I believed everything happened for a reason. "Think about it. Nathan is somehow lured to the bakery at the exact same time a fraudulent e-mail goes out to part of the town for free cookies. What's the chance?"

  One thought after another entered my mind. I dotted the air with my pen. "Furthermore, think of who was there. I didn't get a good look at every single person, but the ones who stood out the most were PTA mom Mallory Winchester and those Bitty-Batty women."

  Amber smiled at my term and immediately understood. "They're some of the biggest gossips in town."

  I raised my arm. "And you win a gold star, my dear. Exactly."

  "So this was all carefully planned, and probably by the same person," Tara said.

  "And who is that person, ladies?"

  They looked to one another and said in unison, "The killer."

  "Bingo. Now, we just need to know who that is." I grabbed a chip and dipped it into the salsa. All of this munching around me made my stomach growl.

  "Who are our suspects?" Tara asked.

  I didn't need to glance to my notes for this. "So far, Nathan's sisters, Holly and Gloria, and possibly his nephew, Max. I'm wondering if there's more though. His neighbor is weird."

  Tara chuckled. "We're all weird in some way. That doesn't mean any of us would kill a person."

  I giggled. "You're right, but someone did it, and since Nathan was such a recluse, who better than his next-door neighbor?"

  They both nodded.

  "Anyone else?" Amber asked.

  I shook my head. "Not yet, but I'm still working on it."

  Tara took a napkin from the pile in the center of the table and wiped her chin after a wedge of avocado stuck there instead of going into her mouth. "And as for the actual killer, we tried the cameras at the bank, and we don't know anyone who can enhance their DVD, or if it can even be enhanced. So trying to see who the gloves and shoes belong to isn't possible, is it?"

  I was afraid she'd say that. "Okay, what about the e-mail? The name on the account is obviously fake. Unless I have an evil twin I don't know about. Does anyone know how to trace an e-mail?"

  Amber smiled. "I may have a friend who can. Hang on." She got up and walked into the living room. In a few seconds, she was talking to someone.

  "If her friend can't help, Duncan may be able to," Tara said.

  I quirked a brow. "I thought you hated him."

  "I guess hate is a strong word. He was just doing his job, even if it's a sucky one." She rolled her eyes. "And I may have overreacted."

  I laughed. "Ya think?"

  She smiled and set down her fork. "What about you?"

  I widened my eyes. "What about me?"

  She wiggled her eyebrows. "What about you and Will and Jared? Any threesomes yet?"

  It was so unexpected that I laughed out loud. Well, not completely unexpected, considering this was Tara, but those kinds of questions weren't usually directed at me.

  "That won't be happening."

  She snapped her fingers. "Shucks. I figured I could live vicariously through yo
u, for a change."

  "You'll have to look elsewhere for that," I said.

  Tara leaned closer. "You and Will still haven't…" She made a circle with her left hand and pushed her right index finger through it.

  "How old are you? And no, we haven't. We've only been on four, um, five dates." I fidgeted in my seat, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. It wasn't that Tara and I hadn't shared our intimate details with one another. We'd done it all our lives. For some reason though, this felt different.

  She laid a hand over mine. "Honey, why are you dating Will? The chemistry obviously isn't scorching."

  "He's a good man. And it's not always about the heat level."

  She leaned back in her chair and blew a raspberry with her mouth. "No, but there needs to be something more there than 'he's a good man.' That's a reason to take him on as a doctor, not date him. Don't you want hot and sizzling? You should go on a date with a guy who makes your stomach flutter, whose smile makes your knees weak."

  My mind flittered to Jared. "And you think that's Jared? That's crazy."

  One corner of her mouth lifted. "Then why are you smirking?"

  I forced a blank expression onto my face. "Jared and I are just friends."

  "Maybe now, but you obviously still have the hots for him. Just like in high school."

  She was crazy. "That was a long time ago."

  "Maybe so, but the heart and body want what they want. And I don't believe you ever fully let him go. I'd bet that you compare every single guy and kiss to the kiss you and Jared shared years ago."

  I stared down at my notepad but didn't actually focus on any of the words. Was she right? I didn't always compare kisses, just sometimes. But holding on to feelings for a guy over twelve years was creepy and insane.

  She pushed a strand of my hair behind my ear. "I want you to be beyond happy. You deserve it."

  The sentiment in her dark eyes choked me up. Before I could respond, however, Amber returned to her seat.

  She set her cell on the table. "I know someone at school who can take a look."