by C A Phipps
Arthur sighed. “Alright, if you must, but don’t go crazy with that either. And let me know if you need my help and how much it costs.”
Scarlett tutted. “We have a deal, remember?”
“You girls drive a hard bargain,” Arthur mused. “Now that we’ve sorted things out, I can get back to my mayoral duties.”
Scarlett leaned in. “Speaking of which, do you have any information about Betty’s assailant or the murder?”
“I’m sure that whatever I know, you’ll already have found out by now,” he winked at Violet.
It seemed that the whole town believed the Finch women were privy to the sheriff’s every thought. “All I’ve heard is that there have been no new developments. Don’t you think this is all taking too much time?”
He pursed his lips. “Nate spoke to me yesterday about that very thing. They’ve thrown all the man-power they can at it, but we have to appreciate that other crimes are happening in other areas. These things do take time, and we need to be patient.”
Scarlett knew all that, but as the days passed, it didn’t help much to tamp down the fear that something terrible was about to happen.
“That’s never been our forte,” Violet said.
Arthur smiled. “I understand, especially being friends with poor Betty, but I’m afraid that harassing your boyfriend won’t help.”
Violet stiffened. “He’s not my boyfriend. We have dated occasionally, but that’s it.”
Arthur looked to Scarlett, who simply shrugged. Violet was entitled to have her say, and things were obviously not what they once were.
“Oh. I must have misunderstood. I should get back to work before I muddy the waters again.” He got out the door faster than she’d ever seen him move.
Scarlett cleared the table and walked with Violet out to the kitchen. Betty was placing her sweets into cute takeout boxes with clear lids.
“They look amazing,” Scarlett exclaimed. “Can you put them on the counter by the register.”
Betty flushed with pleasure. “I hope they sell out like last time.”
When they were alone, Scarlett regarded her sister.
“Just say whatever you’re thinking before you burst,” Violet said tersely.
“It’s not any of my business.”
“That doesn’t usually stop you.”
Scarlett raised an eyebrow. “Ouch. While I appreciate that you’ve cooled things with Nate, it seems as though our sheriff isn’t as accepting of this as you are.”
“I know.” Violet sighed dramatically. “It’s such a pain.”
“Have you even discussed it?”
“Not in so many words. It’s my fault because I keep avoiding the subject and wondering if I’m an idiot for not grabbing him with both hands.”
“What went wrong?”
Violet looked out to where the knitting ladies clustered around a table at the front of the café, and Scarlett did too. The conversation, which stalled while Scarlett spoke to Arthur, and resumed sporadically in that false way people had when they’d been sprung eavesdropping, was non-existent. All eyes were on the kitchen. If she leaned any further out of it, Reba Fuller was in danger of falling off her chair.
Grabbing Scarlett’s arm, Violet dragged her into the corner of the kitchen.
“He kissed me.”
“Who?” Scarlett blurted.
“Nate, of course.”
“Ah.” Scarlett badly wanted to clean something. As sisters, they joked and laughed about men, but since none of them had ever had a proper boyfriend, this was a territory that took awkwardness to a new level.
Violet turned beet-red. “I wasn’t expecting it, and I didn’t know what to do.”
“What made him do it if you didn’t encourage him, Vi?”
“I was apologizing for treating him badly.” Violet blushed. “It never occurred to me that he’d think I was enticing him because I was about to say that we were over. What do I do now?”
“Do you still feel the same?”
“To be honest, I feel like a fool for feeling as I do. We get on well and understand each other—it should work.”
“But?”
Violet shook her head. “It doesn’t. Not for me. I like him a lot, but that’s not enough, is it?”
Scarlett struggled to think of anything that could possibly change the outcome, but she had nothing. “I’m no expert on love, but I do agree that if there’s no chemistry, then it’s probably not going anywhere.”
Violet breathed out as though she’d been waiting for permission to do so. Or perhaps permission to call time on a fledgling relationship that was never going to fly.
“Thank goodness. I’ve been wavering between giving it another chance, which seems cruel when it will surely only prolong the inevitable, and telling him how I feel.”
“It’s your decision.” Scarlett frowned. “However, the way you’re talking makes it sound like you’ve already decided what to do.”
The relief on Violet’s face was short-lived. “He’ll be upset. I never intended to hurt him.”
“We already discussed that. You can’t help how you feel, and once you’re sure, it’s best not to string Nate along for any longer than necessary.”
Violet nodded. “Hopefully, it turns out to be mutual, and I’ve been worrying for nothing.”
Scarlett didn’t like Violet’s chances, and now she could hardly ask her to talk to Nate about finding Jimmy’s things.
Plus, she still had to find the right time to discuss the takings which hadn’t gone up in the way she’d anticipated.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Friday was a beautiful day, albeit a little windy. They had the funeral to organize, and Scarlett was glad that this was the first date they could co-ordinate with the release of Saul’s body and the funeral home.
With the birthday party next week, things had gotten a great deal busier for the café, but having the events a few days apart made it easier. Scarlett was still troubled over the fact that the takings didn’t reflect how hard they worked and didn’t tally with the sales they made.
She had her suspicions which upset her, so Scarlett chose not to dwell on that today.
Happy to hand off most of the arrangements to the Finch sisters, after the initial discussion, Betty didn’t choose to talk about it. Apart from a couple of crucial questions, they respected her wishes. Her brother’s behavior over the last few years had clearly soured Betty’s love towards him, which was understandable, but she seemed grateful that he would have a decent funeral.
With the help of the minister, the deceased was to have a pauper’s casket and no fancy flowers—daisies were apparently his favorite. Also, Betty didn’t want the whole town there, so it was going to be a quiet affair.
This was unusual for Cozy Hollow. Generally, anyone could attend regardless of whether they knew the deceased. Still, Betty was adamant that she couldn’t deal with all those condolences, even though Scarlett explained that it was more of a mark of respect for Betty.
When Scarlett broached the subject again, Betty replied sadly, “I’m having a hard enough time imagining what was going through Saul’s head to come here in the first place. Then there’s whatever he had going on in his life that caused someone to want him dead. How can I possibly answer all the questions people would ask when I don’t know about those reasons myself?”
It was a fair statement, and no one felt the urge to contradict Betty. Although, plenty in town had been upset about not being included. Some considered themselves Betty’s friends, like the knitting group, so it was natural that they were offended.
For a small funeral, it was no hardship to prepare finger food, and some of the cakes had been made the day before. The sisters stood at the counter, cutting sandwiches and plating the last of the cupcakes.
Betty, not precisely in a daze but certainly with her mind elsewhere, was sent home mid-afternoon to change and rest up for the 4pm funeral. They closed the café early so they could clean up and get everything rea
dy.
“Do you think we have enough?” Violet covered the finished plates.
“It should be plenty, but I have a couple of cakes in the walk-in if it’s not.” Scarlett removed her apron. “Thanks for helping, Ruby.”
“I would have come sooner, but the knitting group wouldn’t leave until I told them why I was closing the library early. You should have heard the mutterings about not being able to attend today.”
“Oh, dear. I wondered where they’d gone after Betty left. I imagine they thought if they hung about long enough that she’d change her mind. I hope they won’t make Betty feel worse than she does.”
“I caught her crying a couple of times, but she pretended she had something in her eye,” Violet informed them sadly.
“I know what you mean. I told Betty not to come in and then to go home earlier than she did, but she wouldn’t hear of it.” With a sudden decision, Scarlett headed to the washroom to check her appearance in the mirror. “I’m going to head to Betty’s place and walk to the funeral home with her. Will you two finish getting the café ready?”
“Sure thing. We’ll see you there soon,” Ruby said.
Having already discussed how to set the place up for the mourners who would come back to the café as soon as the service was over, Scarlett trusted her sisters to make the place look inviting.
With Betty’s refusal to have people back to her house, this way they were handy to the Serenity Funeral Home situated at the end of Main Street, and the food wouldn’t need to be transported anywhere.
Albeit surprised, Betty seemed touched by Scarlett’s arrival. Together they walked slowly to the funeral home, through to the homely chapel, and took seats on the front pew. The other mourners arrived soon after and sat behind them, and Ruby sat with Violet on Betty’s other side.
There was not much in the way of a eulogy since Betty couldn’t bring herself to talk and had told the sisters that she couldn’t think of anything about Saul that people ought to know. The minister, obviously appreciating her dilemma, focused on forgiveness and compassion. When no one else took the opportunity to add anything, the casket was carried away. There would be no burial for Saul—he would be cremated as soon as possible.
Scarlett shivered. Without some personal insight into the life of Saul, it felt like a rather cold and dismal affair, and she was glad to get out into the sunlight.
Betty sighed heavily. “I’m desperate for a coffee right now.”
“Come on, then.” Ruby put an arm through hers. “Everyone will find their way to the café soon. You can talk to them there, so there’s no need for you to stay.”
The solemn group of Nate, Sam, Olivia, and Scarlett followed. Some of the knitting ladies hovered by the path, but Betty ignored them.
It wasn’t Scarlett’s place to include or invite anyone, but they’d been so supportive that it did seem like a slap in the face not to. They cast hurt glances Betty’s way, and Scarlett could only shrug her apology and, at some later stage, encourage them to be understanding.
A large elm hung over the church wall at the end of the path. Underneath this, a movement drew Scarlett’s eyes to a woman standing under the tree. She wore a black hat that covered her forehead, shadowing her lower face. A black dress revealed a curvaceous figure. None of this indicated who she was, and though she was dressed as a mourner, Scarlett was very sure that the woman hadn’t attended the service.
Also facing the tree, Betty stumbled ahead of her, and Scarlett rushed to take her other arm. When she looked back, the woman was gone. Perhaps it was someone from Saul’s past saying their last farewell. Although, this added to her confusion. As per Betty’s instructions, the death notice hadn’t been posted anywhere.
Lost in their thoughts, the small group walked silently to the café.
Set up with four tables in a row and another couple in the corner, all draped with white linen tablecloths, the café looked appropriate—neither festive nor dreary.
Violet brought in the daisies from the service and placed a vase of them in the center of each table. Scarlett and Ruby settled Betty in the middle, then the sisters brought out the food and coffee as soon as it was ready.
A hum of conversation ebbed and flowed around Betty, who sadly didn’t participate. When Scarlett was sure everything had been attended to, she sat on one side of Betty. “How are you feeling?”
Betty took a sip of coffee. “A little shaky. It went well, didn’t it?”
“It was a nice send-off,” Scarlett assured her.
“That’s all that matters, really.” Betty nodded at the table in the corner laden with pastries, cakes and sandwiches. “You’ve done a lovely job of the food as well.” Betty coughed to draw the other’s attention. “Thank you, everyone, for coming, and to the girls for their help with everything.” Then she looked down at the table again.
The men had no idea what to say, shifting uncomfortably, probably wishing they were elsewhere.
Scarlett put an arm around Betty’s stiff shoulders and said gently, “It was our pleasure. There’s no need to be embarrassed accepting help. We’re all friends here.”
“It is hard after taking care of myself all these years. Actually, I’m feeling bad about not inviting the knitting group. It was selfish of me.” She covered her face with her hands.
“I’m sure they’ll understand.” Scarlett crossed her fingers.
Betty sniffed. “Maybe not. Some take any slight so personally.”
Scarlett couldn’t help a small smile. “Give them a day or two, and they’ll have forgotten all about it and moved on to something else.”
“I hope so. It’s such a small town, I don’t want to alienate anyone. Everyone was there anyway, so I shouldn’t have been so obstinate about it.”
Scarlett heard her desperation and pictured the knitting women’s disappointed faces. “They kept their distance.” Then she remembered the stranger. “Did you see that other woman at the funeral? The one under the Elm?”
“You know, I can’t recollect much about any of it,” Betty admitted. “I certainly didn’t keep tabs on who was there or strangers loitering outside.”
Nate came up behind them, and leaning between them placed his cup on the table. “What’s this about a stranger?”
“A woman dressed for the funeral never came inside and disappeared right after I noticed her.” Scarlett hadn’t meant it to sound so sinister, but it was the truth. I didn’t see where she went, and Betty doesn’t recall if she knows her.”
Nate leaned further forward so Betty could see him. “Maybe you didn’t know her, but perhaps she knew your brother. I’d like to speak with her, so I’ll take a walk back along Main Street to see if anyone knows where she went.”
Betty took a long drink of coffee. “If you think it will help.”
Ruby and Violet had heard the exchange and looked as awkward as Scarlett felt. They simply didn’t know what more they could do to help Betty’s sad state, which was naturally worse today. It would likely take more time to accept everything that had happened, but Scarlett knew that if she’d only reach out to her friends, it might help her to share the burden.
Sam stood by the kitchen door, indicating he was leaving too, and Scarlett excused herself to follow him outside. They stood on the back steps—he one lower than hers, making them the same height. His chocolate brown eyes shined sorrowfully in the way Bob’s still did.
She gulped. “Can’t you stay a bit longer?”
Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, he smiled. “I don’t think Betty knows or cares who’s here.”
Scarlett sighed. “You’re right. She’s buried her hurt for so long, that wrapping her sadness around her now is just another tool to deal with today. I don’t think any of us can make it any easier just now. Anyway, I’m sure you have better things to do with your day?”
“Whatever I say about that would be insensitive. I’m catching up with my friends from Harmony Beach, but I hope to see you tonight if that’s okay?�
�
She shrugged. “That depends on Betty. We can’t leave her alone in this state.”
He kissed her forehead. “Did I ever say how much I admire you, Scarlett Finch?”
His candidness caught her off-guard, so she made a joke to cover her embarrassment. “I don’t think so.”
“Well, I really do.” He kissed her gently on the lips. “Good luck.”
Touching a finger to her mouth, she had a moment of confusion, before feeling grateful at having Sam in her life. In all this sadness and despair, there was at least the knowledge that things would not always be so grim.
Hopefully, there would come a time soon enough for Betty to appreciate this too.
Chapter Twenty-Three
On Monday, Betty turned up to work on time, sporting dark circles under her eyes, and was a little withdrawn.
“Why don’t you go home and rest?” Scarlett suggested.
“I’m fine. People stopped by all weekend, which was far more exhausting than working. Well-meaning though they might be, I felt like my front door resembled the ones in department stores. Every time one person left, another arrived.”
Violet made a rude noise. “I bet you have a fridge full of casseroles too?”
Betty nodded. “Enough to feed an army, which is very sweet, and I don’t mean to complain, but there’s only one of me, and I might add, I have a tiny fridge.”
Scarlett bit back a laugh. Olivia had been the instigator of the knitting club and several others, including the Finch sisters, to check on Betty, and she was pleased that the rift between them all seemed to have mended. Again, that would have come down to Olivia.
“In that case, if I can’t change your mind, why don’t you concentrate on working out here and let Violet and I handle the customers?”
“I’d appreciate it. You know, I’m quite outgoing, but I feel as though my quota of words is all used up for the foreseeable future.”
Scarlett grimaced. “I remember that feeling very well.”
After the morning rush was over and with everything under control at the café, she left them to it while she ran some errands.
