Savage Sourdough

by Mildred Abbott

  Katie wasn’t overly fond of my wardrobe. She didn’t love my earth-tone color palette, often saying it looked like various shades of baby poo and vomit. But, I didn’t quite understand half of the things she wore either. Although, even I had to admit, the blue hippo wearing a unicorn headband while dreaming of pink cupcakes embossed on the purple hoodie was pretty charming. “Where in the world did you find that thing?”

  Katie plopped the chair back onto all fours with a soft bang as she resettled herself to the table. “From Rocky Mountain Imprints. Joe made it specially.”

  “Really? He reopened the store?” Joe’s world had fallen apart around Christmas. “My uncles mentioned that his divorce got rushed through in record time. I’m glad he’s doing okay.”

  “I don’t know if I’d say he’s okay yet, but I think he will be.” Katie spoke with her mouth full of cheese enchiladas. “He mentioned you, actually, and I keep forgetting to bring it up. He has the design Peg did for the Cozy Corgi, in case you’re still wanting to do merchandise.”

  “That’s sweet of him. I’ll probably take him up on that.”

  “Maybe he can do one of Watson wearing a unicorn headband.” Leo waggled his eyebrows and gave me a wink.

  “I know you’re tied as one of Watson’s favorite people in the universe, but you’re aware he’d murder you if he heard that suggestion.”

  “Well, I think that’s a great idea!” Katie smacked Leo’s arm, pulling his attention away.

  I watched the two of them tease each other, allowing a sense of happy contentment to flow over me. It wasn’t just the bookshop that was making life so wonderful. Not even that I was close to my family once more. It was this—friends who I loved and felt safe with. True, I’d thought for a hot second that Leo and I might be headed to being something more than friends. We’d spent a lot of time together the month before, when there was drama in the local birdwatching club. Then Valentine’s Day rolled around, and Katie suggested the three of us go to dinner as a protest against holidays designed to make single people feel inadequate. Now, a few meals later, Leo had definitely moved into the friendship category. Every once in a while, like with the wink, I got the impression there was still the possibility for more, if I wanted.

  A romance of any kind hadn’t been something I’d wanted. However, to my surprise, there were times I wondered if that might be changing. But for now, no matter which man I was talking about, friendship was the way to go.

  Suddenly I noticed Leo studying me, a quizzical expression over his handsome face. I searched for another topic before he had the chance to read my thoughts. “Still no new cases of poaching since the bird club?”

  The way he narrowed his honey-brown eyes let me know he hadn’t been fooled, but he went along with it. “None. Granted, it’s only been a little over a month, but, still it’s something.”

  Katie had been taking a swig of her Cherry Coke and set it back on the table before speaking. “Maybe it’s done for a while then. Maybe you and Fred got the last of the poachers.”

  “Hardly.” Leo shook his head and cast another meaningful glance my way. “Although that’s what Sergeant Wexler keeps saying. That the poaching is over.” He refocused on Katie, which I appreciated. Anytime Branson Wexler came up, things got a little tense. Branson was the other man who had seemed to want more than friendship from me. Though that was most definitely over. “And of course, it’s unthinkable that a lowly park ranger would have any more insight into poaching than the police department. The poaching ring is just lying low after everything that happened last month. Mark my words, they’ll be back.”

  Before Katie and I could respond, our waitress came over to check on refills and bring a fresh container of chips and salsa. The food at Habanero’s was wonderful. Despite the amount of cheese and sour cream I managed to scarf down every time we came, it wasn’t a total pig-out. But the chips? Those were my weakness. I ate three times the amount of chips as the size of my actual dinner, every time.

  I started to reach for a chip but wanted to move the conversation away from poaching, the police, or anything remotely involving Branson. “Speaking of the Garbles, I don’t think I told you what Barry and Mom have been hoping for regarding the candy shops.”

  Katie’s eyes twinkled. “Where your stepfather is concerned, there’s no telling. But as long as I don’t have another Garble next door, I’m good with anything.”

  “Remember you said that.” I chuckled. “The twins have a new scheme-of-the-moment—to open a new age shop, and their husbands are considering a bricks-and-mortar flagship store for all their inventions.” My stepfather had two daughters, twins, and they, in turn, had married twin brothers.

  Katie’s face paled. “The new age store I might be able to handle, but a shop with just Jonah and Noah’s inventions? Need I remind you?” She held up her right palm. “I still have a scar from their stupid garland. I’d be in constant terror they were going to accidentally cause an explosion and take out the entire block.”

  “Maybe it would be better if the Garble sisters did open their….” Leo’s brows creased, and he looked over at me. “What kind of shop did you say again?”

  “Dumpster healing, apparently.” In any other situation the idea would almost be funny. But it wasn’t. Not at all.

  Katie was of a like mind it seemed. “Good point, Leo. I take it back.” Katie pointed her finger at me meaningfully. “Tell your stepbrothers-in-law to move in tomorrow. We can just up our insurance policy.”

  “I’m glad you feel that way. Sammy thought I was being a bit of a fool not to even consider their offer. She thinks I could make a killing. And that you and I should then move into a larger place.

  “Move? Again?” Katie scowled. “We just opened the Cozy Corgi. I spent a fortune remodeling the bakery. The last thing I want to do is move again. And the bakery doesn’t need to be bigger. It’s perfect the way it is. I didn’t want some factory-type production. I wanted something just the right size, charming, and, well… cozy. It’s perfect.”

  Though I’d been certain that was how she felt, relief flooded through me at the confirmation. I’d been burned by a business partner in the past. It was a relief to see that history wasn’t repeating. Who knew what the Garble sisters were going to do with their properties, but at least Katie and I were on the same page. “Well, I imagine you’ll hear an earful of it from Sammy tomorrow morning.”

  Katie’s scowl deepened. “I don’t miss getting up at the crack of dawn to come in anymore, but I’m thinking the price is a little bit too high for that luxury. Maybe it’s time Sammy moves on.”

  Leo looked at her in surprise. “You’re thinking about firing your twin? I thought we loved Sammy.”

  “It’s not that we don’t love Sammy.” I halted at the words. “Actually, it was never an issue of loving Sammy or not, but she’s fine enough. A talented baker, makes a crazy-good dirty chai, but it’s clear she thinks both Katie and I are doing everything wrong.” I echoed Katie’s words from earlier. “And I can’t help but feel like she’s got her eye on our business for some reason. Which is bad enough on its own, but combined with the Garbles, it’s a little more than I can handle.” I refocused on Katie. “The bakery side of things is your call. But maybe we sit down with Sammy and let her know how we’re feeling, explain what things need to change, before we let her go.”

  “You’re probably right. She really is an exceptional baker. Replacing her in that sense will be nearly impossible.” Katie’s shoulders slumped. “But I can’t keep going like we have been. The snide, judgmental comments increase every single day. I’m constantly wondering if I’m about to snap. It wouldn’t be so bad if she didn’t remind me of my moth—” Her eyes widened, and she shut her mouth with an audible click of her teeth.

  Leo and I exchanged a quick glance. Katie was wonderful in nearly every single way. But she had yet to open up about her past and her childhood. I knew she went to live with her grandmother when she was twelve, but that was about
as in-depth as Katie had gone.

  Despite the riots of bright colors that filled the restaurant and the air of easy friendship that surrounded us, a heaviness fell over the table. A mix of embarrassment and hurt seemed to waft from Katie.

  Leo shifted uncomfortably in his seat, clearly unsure what to do.

  I felt the same and searched for a topic. Any topic. One came easily enough. I smacked the table. “Oh! I didn’t tell you. Carl and Anna came over to chat toward the end of the day. They were filling me in on all the gossip, of course. They said Carla had a little boy.”

  Katie latched on to the topic with more fervor than I’d ever heard her concerning babies, or Carla, for that matter. “Oh, really? That’s wonderful! I’m so happy for her.”

  A grin spread over Leo’s face. “Did they tell you what she named him?”

  “They sure did.” I laughed, then suddenly felt horrible laughing at a newborn’s name.

  Leo laughed as well, easing my guilt.

  Katie toggled her head back and forth between us. “Well, somebody tell me.”

  Leo turned to her. “Let’s just say that Carla’s favorite movie is Top Gun.”

  “No! She didn’t!” Katie’s eyes widened. “She named the baby Goose?”

  I laughed. “No, but it’s almost as bad. She named him Maverick.”

  “That’s kind of cute.” Katie almost looked disappointed.

  “You may have noticed that Carla also likes coffee.” Leo jumped in, stealing my thunder. “The baby’s full name is Maverick Espresso Beaker.”

  “Espresso Beaker?” Katie turned to me for confirmation.

  I nodded.

  All three of us burst into laughter, and for the rest of the night, all worries about the Garble sisters, Sammy, poachers, and Katie’s past couldn’t stand up to the power of friendship, happiness, and cheese-drenched Mexican food.

  I arrived home to one extremely grumpy corgi. Despite the ridiculously expensive dog run I’d installed onto my little log cabin when I moved in, Watson didn’t appreciate being left to manage his own entertainment. However, an offering of my leftover chicken fajita meat seemed to prompt his forgiveness.

  For a moment, I began to stress about the Garbles and what Katie would choose to do with Sammy, but I pushed it all away. Those were worries for the morning. For the night, with my stomach full and my heart content, I lit a fire, cozied into the puffy armchair with a book, a hot chocolate, and Watson at my feet, as the March blizzard whistled through the forest of pines surrounding my house and covered my little world with a new layer of snow.

  Sure enough, the next morning as Watson and I drove my burnt-orange Mini Cooper into town, Estes had been thoroughly transformed into a winter wonderland once more. The snow had stopped, and the skies were sunny and a deep jewel blue. As we pulled onto Elkhorn Avenue, a small herd of bighorn sheep wandered across the intersection, taking their time as if they enjoyed holding up traffic. It was one more confirmation in the seemingly endless string of confirmations that I had chosen correctly. It seemed traffic jams were simply a fact of life. However, I’d traded the horn-blaring, curse-shouting rush hour of the city for a kind where people craned their heads out of their cars, despite the cold, to gaze in wonder at the magic that was so frequent it almost became commonplace.

  Now that the Cozy Corgi was officially open, I no longer parked directly in front of the shop, but in a lot behind the stores a block or so away. Thankfully, Watson was in one of the moods where he decided he loved the snow. He ducked his head beneath the surface and plowed through it, leaving a little gopher trail behind him. At times he’d do the same on our snowy hikes. Other times, he stepped one royal toe outside and decided he hated nothing more than the white stuff.

  I was determined to have a good day, even if Sammy had more opinions about what I should do with my store and how Katie should run her bakery. Even if the Garbles decided to try a new tactic to buy my shop. Heck, even if someone else decided to try to give birth in the middle of the breakfast rush.

  Prompted by my good mood, I stopped by Rocky Mountain Imprints, checked on the owner, Joe Singer, and ordered an assortment of hoodies, T-shirts, and hats with the Cozy Corgi logo his ex-wife had designed. I wasn’t sure where I would put the merchandise in the tiny space, but I’d find a spot.

  Before long, Watson and I were in the bookshop. There were only ten or fifteen minutes before people would start coming in for their morning coffees and pastries.

  I’d had half a pot of coffee as I got ready that morning, but I still started each workday with a dirty chai. One could never have too much caffeine. Before going up to the bakery, I walked to the mystery room, ready to pick out a different book to read that day. Then I decided against it. I would read if it got slow, but something about Regina and Penelope Garble had reminded me that I hadn’t simply opened my dream bookshop so I could sit and read by the fire all day, but so I could share it with others, and help them find the books they needed for whatever they were going through in that instant.

  I glanced over at Watson, who had already taken his spot by the window in the fiction section. “You coming? Second breakfast?”

  That boy didn’t need to be asked twice. He hopped up, bright-eyed, twitched his pointed ears, and wagged his nub of a tail.

  We were halfway up the staircase when it happened.

  I suddenly became aware that I didn’t smell any of the normal warm scents that welcomed me to my shop, didn’t hear the clatter of pans or ovens. Even the piped-in music hadn’t been turned on. It didn’t mean anything bad necessarily, other than Sammy forgetting to set her alarm and oversleeping. At least nothing worse than not being ready for customers. But then Watson growled a low gurgle of warning in the back of his throat.

  We paused, and I spared him a look. His ears were flattened, and he was focused on the top of the stairs.

  I followed his gaze and saw nothing. Though that glance revealed that the lights weren’t on. I strained to listen but heard nothing besides Watson’s continual growl.

  We kept going. Still no sounds.

  When we reached the top, I turned and looked into the bakery.

  Nothing was wrong. It was empty, but other than that, there was nothing amiss. Even without the lights on, the space was bright enough with the wall of windows allowing the morning sunlight in. The bakery looked like it always did—assortment of antique tables and log chairs, interspaced with overstuffed sofas here and there.

  But still Watson growled. He padded in front of me, cutting through the customer area and winding around the counter that led into the open-concept bakery section. He halted, lowered his head, his growl deepening.

  A sense of déjà vu washed over me as I approached him. We’d done this before. This exact thing, though the space had looked very different four months ago. Watson growling, my heart racing, then discovering Opal’s body.

  I knew what I would see when I rounded the corner. Though it made no sense. Opal would be there again, bashed in the head with a rolling pin.

  It was such a vivid image that for a heartbeat, when I stared at the body on the floor, Opal truly did superimpose over reality. But then she evaporated, and it was so much worse. So, so much worse.

  A short sturdy body was splayed on the floor, curly brown hair fanning out in a pool of blood. So much like Opal had been, nearly identical, yet entirely different.

  Something loud was hurting my ears, and then I realized I was screaming.

  Something clicked. No, something broke, and I rushed into the bakery and fell to my knees beside Katie’s body.

  There were no thoughts of protocol. It didn’t matter that I was both the daughter of a detective or the ex-wife of a policeman, or that I’d discovered multiple dead bodies since moving to Estes Park. I didn’t think about fingerprints, DNA, or securing the crime scene. Nothing entered my mind except one word. Katie.

  Actually, my mind screamed her name. Over and over again. Or maybe I was screaming. I couldn’t tell what w
as thought and what was reality.

  Katie was facedown, and I reached out and turned her over. Still I heard her name. I realized I was yelling and choked out a sob.

  Beside me, Watson let out a whimper and shoved against my side.

  Tears blurred my vision, but I didn’t look at him, only cradled Katie’s face in my hands, sucking in a breath at the coldness of her skin.

  Watson whined again.

  How could it be? I’d texted Katie that morning when I got up. She’d responded. No way she would already be cold. This couldn’t be….

  I blinked away my tears and ran the back of my forearms across my eyes.

  It couldn’t be Katie… because it wasn’t.

  Sammy. It’s Sammy.

  “Oh thank God!” My body sagged and a ragged breath escaped, and then my gaze found Sammy’s face once more. Guilt coursed through me, not enough to erase my relief but sufficient to cause me a fresh slice of pain over Sammy.

  Suddenly I saw myself holding the dead body, cradling Sammy in my lap, and realized the damage I’d done to the scene. Gently, I slid her back to the ground.

  It still didn’t make sense. She was stiff. Sammy normally didn’t come in until around four thirty in the morning. She’d been dead much longer than that.

  Watson whined once more, finally drawing my attention to him.

  I started to pet him for comfort and pulled my hand back. “It’s okay, buddy. It’s not Katie.”

  He cocked his head at me.

  “But you knew that before I did, didn’t you?” I returned my attention to Sammy, really looked at her this time, not simply in relief that she wasn’t my best friend. And because I’d already done the damage, I reached forward and placed my hand on her cheek once more. “I’m so sorry. So very sorry.”