by Molly Dox
“How about steak?”
“I want chocolate pudding.”
Rosie sighed.
This wasn’t going quite how she expected. She thought she’d quickly go from room to room, take a short survey and be on her way. Not so much.
“If I have to listen to Frank chewing and smacking his lips one more time, I’m going to knock his teeth out.” An old man hobbled to the front of the group. He turned to glare at Frank. “Do you hear me, Frank?”
A nurse came and disbanded the lively crew. “It’s time for Bingo,” she said, and then scooted them along.
Rosie sat on one of the now empty chairs. Everything was non-descript. No bright colors, no pretty art on the walls, just gray and brown, drab walls, drab halls, and a punch of color with the ever so lovely green vinyl chairs. This place left her feeling more down than up. Maybe she’d suggest-
“Excuse me,” Mrs. Owens said and sat down. She sighed. “Have you seen my son? He’s in trouble again.”
“No, I’m sorry, I haven’t.”
The older woman leaned in close. “Well, I know what he did. I know what you did, too, and you’ll never get away with it,” she hissed.
Rosie nodded politely and got out of there as fast as she could. As she sat in her car, guilt crept over her. She didn’t want to go back. It was another world. Would that be her fate? Her mother’s? Eating oatmeal, wanting Fruity Pebbles and chocolate pudding, instead of banana?
Depressed, Rosie started her car. That’s when it hit her. She went back inside and found Mrs. Owens. “I know what they did, too.”
“You saw her?” Mrs. Owen’s eyes shot open wide. “And she smelled to high heaven, that cheap perfume. And who wears so much?”
“What did she do?”
She lowered her voice. “I think the nurse is trying to kill me. She’s trying to kill us all. She took out poor Mr. Jones.”
“Who?”
Mrs. Owens glanced over her shoulder, then put a finger to her lips. “She’s feeding us poison. We’re all going to die. I should go before she hears me, or I’ll be next.”
Rosie sighed. Okay, so it wasn’t as easy as asking a paranoid woman a simple question, but again, the mention of the perfume. Maybe she should go talk to Twyla and Lila, since they were obviously visiting their father, or at least one of them was. She’d check the guest book and see if she could figure out which daughter had been in that day.
…it solved nothing. Both were in. Not long after the other. Her mind was playing tricks on her. Why would they want to hurt their own father? Maybe it was something in the food, but not in her muffins. Rosie shook her head. No, she wasn’t getting sucked into something like this again. Last time, the entire thing got out of hand. It was probably old age. Mr. Jones was eighty. It’s not like he was a spring chicken. It’s probably just an overreaction by his kids.
Chapter 5
When Rosie got back to the restaurant, it was all locked up. She glanced around, checking things, but there was no sign of her mother. Once inside, there was a note on the counter. Oh boy, she’d gotten into it with Sheriff Snyder again. Why?
Apparently, she’d be spending the night in the town’s jail after taking a swing at the man. Gary Snyder would jump at the chance to lock up Rosie’s mom, and she obviously gave him reason.
Rosie dropped down onto a counter stool and sighed. Not again. Why, Mom? Why?
Standing back up after taking a few deep breaths to keep from losing it, she walked the two blocks through town and made her way inside of the station.
“I’m guessing I know why you’re here,” Sheriff Snyder said with a smirk.
Rosie closed her eyes, counted to ten and opened them again. She forced herself to remain calm. Getting herself locked up wouldn’t do either of them any good. Besides, she was angrier with her mother than with the sheriff. If her mom swung at him…
“Can we sort this out, please? I understand she can be a handful, but truly she doesn’t need to be locked up. Did she hit you?” Rosie asked.
“The intent was there. Thankfully, I dodged the slap, but you can’t go striking out at a law enforcement officer. It’s just not the way the world runs, Rosemary.” His lecture was almost complete. “Besides, it’s not the first run in with her I’ve had. She’s hostile and a nuisance-”
“I understand. I do. I’m so sorry. Please, Gary, can you help me out here? I’ve got my hands full. I’ll make sure she stays far away from you and will be on her best behavior if you’re anywhere around.” Rosie sighed. It was pointless. He liked nothing more than prodding Rosie’s mom.
Sheriff Snyder looked Rosie up and down. “What’s got you on edge? Something you need to confess?”
“I didn’t poison the muffins. Come on, you know me. Alright, fine. What’s it going to take?” Rosie asked. There was always something Sheriff Snyder wanted. He was all about putting himself first, regardless of the law.
“How’s about a home cooked pot roast, and maybe a dinner date. Sure could use some company. What do you say to this weekend?” he asked.
Rosie’s jaw dropped. She was stunned. “Gary, I…I’m seeing someone. I have a date.”
“Not you, Rosie. Not that it would be a bad thing, but I was thinking more along the lines of the feisty old broad. Maybe we can make the peace and stop barking at each other’s throats.”
Confused, Rosie tilted her head. “Gary? My mother? I thought you couldn’t stand her.”
“Eh, the crazy gal is growing on me, even if she did take a swing at me. Some days I don’t know if I hate or want to hold her.” He looked down, a tinge of pink cast over his cheeks.
“So you locked her up?”
“People were around. You can’t go swinging at the Sheriff and not get in trouble, Rosie. It’s just the way it’s got to be. Besides, old Owen Masters was all huffing and puffing about the matter, and I needed to remind him that he was a retired officer. Not his place to be telling me what to do.”
“Oh, boy. This is awkward. My mom and Owen have sort of been seeing each other, lately.”
“I know that, I’m not a fool. Not like she’s married to the guy or anything.”
“Why didn’t you just ask her out?” Rosie’s brain circled trying to grasp that she was trying to get her mother out of jail, while the jail keeper wanted to go out with his prisoner.
“I never was good with women,” he admitted. “Never mind. Just forget I asked.”
“Can I go back and talk to her?”
He nodded and gestured with his chin toward the door.
She walked over, then spun around and looked at Sheriff Snyder again. Did that really just happen?
When Libby saw Rosie, she let out a deep breath. “Thank goodness, you’re here. That no-good, piece of-”
“Mom!” she interrupted. “I’ve got an interesting prospect here. I’m not even sure how to say this, but Gary said he could see past your indiscretion if you agreed to something.”
“What now? That man is a-”
“Mom! Behave.” Rosie paced in front of the jail cell trying to find the right words. “See, the thing is, I think he kind of likes you.”
“Wait. What?”
“He was hoping you’d have dinner with him this weekend, you know, in exchange for seeing past your, how shall we say this…your intended slap. He’s a little shy, and apparently between all the bickering and back and forth, has taken a sweet spot for you.”
“Are you kidding me? That man is an embarrassment to the male community…”
Sheriff Snyder walked in at just the wrong moment. He huffed and stiffened his shoulders. “Fine, be that way.” Before she could say another word, he turned and went back to his desk.
Rosie chased after him. “Gary, Gary, you misunderstood.”
Libby called out, loudly, “No, he didn’t.”
Gary stomped back to Libby’s cell, opened the jail door, grabbed Libby and planted a great, big kiss on her.
Libby’s eyes shot open stunned.
> “Stop being such a stubborn lady, and admit that you feel something too.”
Libby swallowed hard. “Gary?”
He bowed his head. “Can we call a truce. I’d appreciate the presence of your company this weekend. I thought we could have dinner together.”
Libby’s jaw was wide open. “What just happened here?”
“Have dinner with me woman,” he blurted out.
“Fine, you old crow. I’ll have dinner with you.” She shook her head and walked past him. A huge smile spread across her lips. Well, imagine that. Her world just turned on its head. She wasn’t sure how Owen would feel about her seeing somebody else, but they’d only just started seeing each other, and well…she wasn’t married. The attention was kind of nice. Maybe just one date. She’d see.
“Oh, my gosh,” Rosie said under her breath. She quickly chased out after her mother. She had no clue what just went down, but whatever it was, it was big. There was a shift in the universe. Mom and Gary on a date? No. Something was wrong. Weird. Absolutely crazy.
Chapter 6
When Julia Withers dropped by with a stack of flyers, The Nook’s door was locked. She was about to leave when Libby and Rosie were making their way down the street, bickering about some nonsense. It was always something with those two.
The women noticed Julia at the front of the building, and let her know they’d be re-opening in the morning.
“I’ve got an announcement here. I was hoping you could pin it up on your community bulletin board. We’re having a meeting and introducing one of our new business owners. I’d like the new post master to come to the meeting, too, so we can get to know them. There’s also word that there was some interest in the vacant Randolph building. I’ll need to get more information. Something about a dinner place, maybe a steak house or something. It would need a lot of work, so I’m not sure how soon something like that could happen. Quite honestly, I’m surprised they didn’t choose to go to the city. I mean, we don’t have a huge influx of population here. Of course, our prices reflect that. Maybe they’re just starting out. I wasn’t privy to the original information while Mr. Staggs was…. Right. Now that I’ll be stepping in as the business committee leader, I’ll be sure to gather the necessary tidbits of information.”
Boy, that woman could talk and talk. And fast.
Rosie nodded along and took a flyer. “Sure, I’ll post it.”
Libby glanced at the paper, but her mind was elsewhere. A certain Sheriff had just thrown her for the loop of the century. Who would have guessed it? He was sweet on her? But, then again, so was Owen. Dear, sweet Owen. Libby smiled. He’d understand, right? It was a ‘get out of jail’ free card. One dinner.
***
It was a slow morning at The Breakfast Nook, at least the earlier portion. That was fine by Rosie, she needed some down time. Things were spinning out of control lately. Her mother covered the front, while she sat with Dash for a while in their home on the backside of their café. She smoothed her fingers through the cat’s soft coat. “Why can’t things be easier, Dash?”
“Mew.”
“I know, right? And what’s up with Sheriff Snyder? That came out of left field. I’m not sure what to think about that one.”
“Mew.”
“Are you going to sunbath on the front porch today, buddy?”
The cat’s purrs grew louder, as he pressed against her hand. Rosie scratched behind his ears, a particularly favorite spot of his.
Her mother called out to her from the door that led to the restaurant. “Rosie, you’ll want to come here.”
“I’ve got to go pussy cat. Be good today, and I’ll talk to you tonight.”
“Mew.”
The toxicology report was in. They were in the clear. Rosie sighed with relief. She was certain it wasn’t her muffins, but hearing it made her feel that much better. At least they were no longer being suspected of any foul play. The last thing they needed was another spotlight on them.
Another interesting piece of information washed out in the report. A toxic substance was found during the autopsy. They wouldn’t release any more details, but it appeared a poisonous cocktail had led to the man’s death.
Chapter 7
Twyla Jones pulled open the door to The Nook and tripped walking over the threshold. She was always a tad clumsy, but at least she looked good when she fell time to time. She loved fashion and all the baubles and whistles of accessories. Accessorizing was a woman’s crown jewel. Twyla strolled to a seat, as if she were a queen and didn’t just trip over her own two feet and a non-existent bump in the floor.
Rosie brought Twyla’s usual cup of tea and then went to take her order.
“Oh, I’m not even sure I can eat. My poor father. And that bitter sister of mine is nothing but trouble. Greedy, greedy woman only cares about herself. We’ve barely buried my father, and she’s all about the will,” she lamented. “Anyway, I’ll take a three egg omelet, egg whites please, with a side of wheat toast, and be a dear… skip the butter.”
“I’m sorry about your father,” she relayed.
“Of course you are dear.” She flapped her napkin, then placed it on her lap.
“Did you hear anything about the cause…” Rosie shouldn’t ask, but she was curious what Twyla knew.
“Yes, they informed us last night. It seems somebody wanted to do him in. Breaks my heart. He was such a sweet man. Why on earth would anybody want to hurt my father.” She feigned crocodile tears. “Oh, I am famished suddenly. Be a dear and put my breakfast on.”
“Right away,” Rosie said. Weird. Could Lila have had something to do with her father’s death? And Twyla, she barely seemed upset. She couldn’t have… okay, one too many mystery novels. Go make eggs. This is no longer your concern. You’ve been cleared.
***
When Lila Jones showed up for lunch, she was beside herself with grief. Her tear-stained eyes were red and bloodshot. Placing her order, she had to stop twice to wipe her eyes and once to blow her nose.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Libby said.
“I miss him so much,” she sobbed. “We’re all alone in the world now. Mom and Dad, gone.”
“Tragic, yes. Life can be cruel at times,” Libby answered, trying to remain sympathetic. It’s not that she wasn’t feeling bad for the woman, but that her mind was on other things. Mainly, Owen and Gary. She didn’t mean to be distracted, but ever since the incident, well, it wouldn’t leave her mind. How dare he just kiss her like that, and yet it was so spontaneous and exciting.
“And I’ll have toast points with my soft-boiled eggs,” Lila finished.
“Right, sure, and to drink?”
“What are you insinuating? These are tear-stained bloodshot eyes, not…I’m sorry. I’m a little on edge. Did you hear the news? My father was murdered. It wasn’t natural causes. Of course, it wasn’t. He was a spry gentleman.”
“Coffee, tea…” Libby trailed off, not sure what to make of the woman’s odd reaction.
“A strong cup of coffee, please. As strong as you’ve got it. I need the energy. A little extra caffeine will boost me. I’ve got a horrible suspicion my sister could have done something. It guts me from top to bottom, just thinking about the possibility, and yet how can I not. She won’t stop yammering on about the will.” She mumbled something under her breath. “Dear girl has barely shed a tear. Makes you wonder. And let’s be honest, all my sister has ever cared about was herself.”
“Right… I’ll go get that started for you.” Libby excused herself. Once in the kitchen, she sidled up to her daughter. “Rosie, you won’t believe what I just heard.”
Libby filled Rosie in on the gossip slipping from Lila’s lips.
“Interesting, I’d say. Her sister was here this morning, weaving a yarn about Lila. Looks like Lila and Twyla don’t have quite as strong of a bond as they used to.”
“Do you think one of them could have done it?” Libby asked. “Or could they have been in it together?”
Libby pursed her lips. “Do you think it was one of those ‘medical’ self-appointed angel people? Like an angel of death, thinking they’re helping someone to pass? Maybe Mr. Jones made arrangements, or a nurse was good and ready for him to move on.”
“I don’t know, but something isn’t right.” Rosie finished up with the order she was making and went back to the front of the café.
Myrtle came in and sat down. She looked a little flustered, but nothing too far out of the ordinary. Gloria, her partner in crime was nowhere in sight.
“Hey Myrtle, it’s nice to see you. We missed you at breakfast this morning.”
“Well, I didn’t want to run into Gloria. I knew she’d be here.”
“Are you and Gloria on the outs?”
Myrtle groaned. “You could sort of say that. I may have let slip one of her secrets by mistake, but not intentionally. Well, now she has a bee in her bonnet and is giving me the old silent treatment. Though, to be honest, a few days break from Gloria could be good for anyone.”
“Myrtle!”
Myrtle shrugged. “It’s the honest truth.”
“Can I get you your regular?” Rosie asked.
“What’s going on over there?” Myrtle whispered, pointing to Lila who was in full sobbing mode again.
“She’s still mourning her father,” Rosie mentioned.
“Quite a bit in public if I do say. I mean, if I was full out crying, I’d be at home, not showing the entire world.” She lowered her voice. “To be honest, I was never a big fan of Twyla or Lila Jones.”
“Oh?”
“Well, they’ve been fighting over their family money for as long as I’ve known them. They bullied their father after their mother died, and I’m sure they made him change that thing over and over, demanding a bigger piece of the pie for each of them. Those money-grubbing fools missed out on the wonderful man that their father was. Was always a sweet man, polite, good-natured, but his spoiled and greedy daughters, well, I’ve been less than impressed by them.”
