Blackberry Crumble

by Josi S. Kilpack

  The idea filled her stomach with butterflies. It was such a big decision, yet the fact that she was considering it—and considering it strongly—meant it wasn’t too big. She didn’t know anything about the case, so there was a very real possibility that she was jumping the gun by even thinking about it so much. She took a deep breath and blew it out, trying not to get ahead of herself. There was only one person she could think of who could help her with this decision; one person she trusted to help her determine what her next step should be.

  But that simply doubled the swarm of butterflies already wreaking havoc in her digestive organs.

  What would Pete think?

  Annie’s Triple-Berry Summer Salad

  3⁄4 cup candied walnuts

  1⁄3 cup sugar

  Salt

  5 cups (6 to 8 ounces) baby spinach

  2 cups fresh berries of your choice (blackberries, boysenberries, blueberries, sliced strawberries, etc.)

  1⁄2 cup red onion, sliced thin (Jack likes lots of onions on his salad)

  1 cup of your favorite sweet dressing (poppy seed, raspberry vinaigrette, etc.)

  To candy walnuts, preheat frying pan on medium-low heat. Add walnuts and cook for about 3 minutes, until you start to smell them, stirring constantly. Sprinkle sugar and a dash of salt over the nuts. Continue to stir quickly until the sugar melts. Toss nuts until sugar is no longer grainy and nuts are coated in the melted sugar; about five minutes. (A little smoke is normal, but be careful not to burn them.) Once the nuts are coated, spread them out on a sheet of wax paper and let cool while you assemble the rest of the salad.*

  For the salad, toss together all ingredients except the dressing. Add cooled walnuts and dressing. Toss to coat salad. Serve immediately. Serves 6 to 8.

  *Gayle insists that candied walnuts are impossible to make at home, so she uses walnuts straight from the bag.

  Chapter 12

  Sadie?” Pete’s eyebrows went up in genuine surprise when she stood on his doorstep ten minutes later. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’ve got a situation and I could use your advice,” she said, eager to get the words out. What a blessing it was to be able to talk about these things with him! “Remember that redhead we saw come into the gym before you went to help with the punch on Friday? Well . . .” It took her about ninety seconds to fill in all the details, carefully scrutinizing every word to make sure she didn’t miss anything. “So I have her number and need to call her, but I don’t know if I should take the job or not.” She took a deep breath, nearly lightheaded from the rush of words she’d just delivered.

  Only then did she realize that Pete seemed rather tense and distracted. They were silent for a few beats. Sadie waited for him to ask a question or make a comment or . . . something.

  “Is everything okay?” she asked when he didn’t respond immediately.

  “Yeah, sure,” he said, flashing her a smile before his eyebrows pulled together. He looked past her shoulder. Sadie craned her neck to see what he was looking at, but nothing stood out to her.

  “Can I come in?” she asked. Despite it being almost five o’clock, it was easily eighty-seven degrees, and she was in full-sweat zone. She worried that her dress was starting to smell bad. The car had just started to cool off when she’d turned into Pete’s driveway. The crab dip would be a loss.

  “Um . . .” Pete glanced into the house.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, starting to wonder why he was acting so strange.

  “Nothing,” Pete said, forcing a smile that Sadie knew was fake. “Nothing’s wrong.”

  “Then can I come in?” She knew she was sounding pushy, but her radar was up. She also identified the smell of lasagna in the air. Pete was cooking?

  Pete looked past her to the street again, and she realized he had been expecting someone. Someone who wasn’t Sadie. Her heart dropped. She looked past him and noticed that the dining room table was set—for two. Her eyes snapped back to his. “Who’s coming over?”

  Guilt flashed behind his eyes, and Sadie winced inside. This was not happening! When Pete didn’t answer, she spun on her heel and headed down the steps, her mind in a whirl. First an article that put everything she stood for into question, and now Pete was seeing someone else? In the months they’d been dating, she’d never been past the foyer in his home—they always spent time at Sadie’s. She hadn’t minded much; she had better food at her house. But she minded now—a lot—but didn’t know what to do about it.

  Pete called her name, but Sadie didn’t look back. Who was he seeing? That blonde police officer she knew had a crush on him? Or maybe Mona Lennar, who lived down the street and brought him cinnamon rolls the first day of every month. She caught her breath. Not Gayle, she prayed. Please not that.

  Moments later he caught up with her on the sidewalk and stepped in front of her, forcing her to stop. “It’s not what you think,” he said quickly, putting his hands out, palms facing her. He reached for her hand, but she put them both behind her back. She looked up into his face, for once hoping her hurt and anger were showing as keenly as she was feeling them.

  “Usually when people say something isn’t what it looks like, it’s exactly what it looks like,” she said. She was instantly reminded of the article and clamped her mouth shut. The article didn’t count; and it didn’t change her feelings, it only made her feel more foolish. “Are you seeing someone else?”

  Pete’s eyebrows shot up. “No,” he said, shaking his head as though to further convince her.

  “But someone’s coming over,” Sadie said, crossing her arms over her chest. “You . . . cooked.”

  Pete took a breath, then let it out slowly. “My daughter Brooke is coming in from Fort Collins for dinner—just the two of us. I heated up a frozen lasagna.”

  Sadie felt mildly sheepish until Pete glanced at the street again. She frowned. “You don’t want her to see me here, do you?”

  “Look,” he said in a gentle tone. He reached out and placed a hand on her arm, creating sparks along her skin. She ignored those sparks with everything she had. “It’s been less than three years since Pat . . . died. The kids have had a hard time. Surely you can understand that.”

  Sadie was almost offended that he would insinuate that she wouldn’t understand what it was like to heal from such a loss. However, she latched onto something else. “You haven’t told your kids we’re dating?”

  A slight pink lit up his cheeks as he shook his head and dropped his hand back to his side. “I’ve been trying to ease them into it, but then the article came out and . . . ”

  That was the one part of the article that hadn’t given Sadie ulcers—the part about her and Pete dating. She’d had confidence in that one detail—but apparently she was the only one.

  Pete continued. “Jared and I talked on the phone this morning.” Jared, Pete’s only son, lived in Massachusetts. The girls, Brooke and Michelle, were both in Fort Collins. “I’m meeting Michelle for breakfast tomorrow morning.”

  Sadie blinked. She suddenly felt like the other woman; it was a horrible feeling.

  She looked past Pete at the sound of a car engine approaching. A gold minivan began slowing down as it approached the house. The sun reflected off the windshield, but Sadie could see a brown-haired woman in the front seat wearing sunglasses. Brooke.

  Sadie tried to decide how to react. She understood the complexities of their relationship, and though she respected Pete’s need to handle things carefully with his children, they had been dating for nine months. Sadie’s children were asking her when she was going to set a wedding date, and Sadie was waiting for him to verbalize his feelings for her. Pete, on the other hand, hadn’t even told his children about her yet. Was that why Sadie had never spent time at his house? Had Pete been hiding her from his family all this time? Keeping her at arm’s length from the rest of his life? The disappointment was sharp and brittle in her chest. Apparently their relationship hadn’t moved forward as much as she’d thought.
/>
  The minivan pulled into the driveway, and Pete closed his eyes. There was always the option of playing out the brokenhearted girlfriend and throwing a tantrum. Or she could march up to Brooke and force an introduction. But neither of those options were in Sadie’s nature. Pete hadn’t tried to hurt her.

  “I’m sorry for making things so hard,” she whispered under her breath.

  “It’s not that,” Pete said, but Sadie could feel the hyperawareness of his daughter opening the car door behind him.

  “I’ll follow your lead. You can introduce us, or I can just go. What do you want me to do?” Sadie whispered again.

  Pete vacillated, but it was obvious he couldn’t just have Sadie leave now that Brooke was here. He nodded and turned toward the van, putting his professional detective smile on his face.

  Sadie prepared herself for an awkward introduction, quickly smoothing her hair behind her ears. Moments before Brooke stepped out of the car, however, Sadie leaned toward Pete and whispered, “I came here to make a decision about that case—thanks for your help. I’m going to take it.”

  His head snapped to the side, his eyebrows pinched together. “What?” he asked in a tight whisper.

  Sadie forced her most sincere smile as Brooke approached them, a look of polite discomfort on her face. Sadie ignored how hurtful it felt to be looked at that way and put out her hand. “You must be Brooke,” she said, feeling like an idiot for so many reasons. “I’m not staying, but wanted to say hello.”

  Chapter 13

  As it turned out, making the decision to take the case was harder than executing the choice, which Sadie took as a sign that this was what she was supposed to do. As soon as she returned home, she called May.

  “Mrs. Hoffmiller?” May said as soon as she answered the phone. “I’ve been praying you would call.”

  Sadie felt a rush of . . . anxiety, eagerness, maybe anticipation, wash through her at the other woman’s excitement. “Well, uh, I guess it’s good that I called then, isn’t it?”

  “It’s wonderful!” May said. “But maybe I’m jumping to conclusions. Are you going to accept my offer? Are you going to help me?”

  Sadie took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Yes, I’m ready to help.”

  There was silence on the other end of the line and then a slight sniffling. “Oh, Mrs. Hoffmiller, you have no idea what this means to me.”

  Instantly, Sadie felt calmer than she had in three days. This was the right thing for her to do, she was sure of it. This woman needed her help, and circumstances had come together for her to find Sadie. “I’m glad to be a part of this,” Sadie said. “And I’m committed to helping you uncover the truth.”

  The rest of the conversation consisted of May’s offer to take care of Sadie’s flight arrangements and the basic details about her suspicions concerning her father’s death. May had been traveling from Ohio to Portland, Oregon, where she would be packing up her father’s house, when she’d stopped in southern Wyoming. That was where she’d come across the newspaper featuring Sadie. She’d gone a few hours out of her way to talk to Sadie personally when she couldn’t reach her by phone. It was thrilling to hear May’s relief and excitement to have Sadie’s help, which increased Sadie’s confidence tenfold.

  Just like that, the phone call was finished, and Sadie had two pages of notes, which she skimmed through to ensure she was familiar with the basics. May’s father, Jim Sanderson, had died suddenly, and May was certain that his former business partner, Keith Kelly, was involved. Sadie had names and dates to pursue, and it was so very Perry Mason that she couldn’t help but grin as she committed the information to memory. She was eager to do as much research as possible before she left for Portland, where she would get more details.

  As soon as Sadie finished studying her notes, she called Gayle and gave her the rundown of all that had happened since they’d last spoken. Gayle caught the spirit right away and agreed to take Sadie’s place at the March of Dimes fundraiser if Sadie wasn’t home by Saturday. After that, Sadie went online and ordered Investigating for Idiots to be shipped overnight. It was guaranteed to be delivered by ten o’clock Tuesday morning, which is why she’d told May to book an afternoon flight. After that, she went to the website for Powell’s bookstore, a famous Portland staple she’d always thought would be a fun place to visit. She typed in “Investigating” in hopes of finding another book on the subject and quickly had more than seven thousand titles to chose from. Overwhelmed, she closed the tab and made a note to go to the store in person if she could find a few extra minutes after she arrived.

  It was 4:00 in the morning in London, so she simply texted Breanna about her plans and began mentally preparing for the conversation with her daughter that would take place tomorrow when they were both awake. Breanna would not be thrilled, but Sadie hoped her daughter would at least be supportive once Sadie explained the entire situation. For the first time, she wasn’t stumbling on to something; she had a plan and a guide and a chance to take her abilities to the next level.

  Shawn hooted and immediately asked if he could come—which Sadie said wasn’t such a good idea. By the end of the call, he was pouting as only a two-hundred-and-eighty-pound, twenty-two-year-old man-child could. Part of Sadie liked the idea of having him with her—he could be Watson to her Sherlock Holmes or Robin to her Batman—but it seemed like an irresponsible allowance on her part. It was hard enough keeping him in Michigan and focused on the upcoming school year as it was. He didn’t have room for distraction, whereas Sadie was looking for something to keep her mind off her problems.

  She was pulling clothes out of her closet that night and planning out the next two days of preparation for the trip, when the phone rang. The caller ID told her it was Pete, and she took a deep breath as she lifted the handset and put it to her ear. They exchanged rather formal hellos, then sat in silence for a moment before Pete asked if she was really going to accept the job. She recited to him a shortened version of what she’d told Gayle and Shawn.

  Pete listened for nearly a minute before he broke in. “Sadie,” he said. “You’re not a private investigator.”

  The words made her stomach tighten, and although she’d been on the defensive since she’d picked up the phone, she felt the walls go up even more. “You’re right,” Sadie said. “But I’ve had some pretty good hands-on training for the position.”

  She could tell Pete was struggling to keep from going into lecture mode as they both sat there in silence. Finally, Pete spoke again. “You really don’t care what I think about this, do you?”

  That made her heart shudder just a little bit. “I do care what you think,” she said, her tone softer than she expected it to be. “That’s why I came to your home to discuss it, only to realize that I’ve obviously put more weight into our relationship than you have.”

  “That’s not fair, Sadie,” Pete said. “My circumstances are complicated.”

  Ouch! “Do you have any idea what it’s like to feel like a complication instead of a partner, Pete?” Sadie said, tears threatening. At least she was alone; no one would see her break down. She hurried to speak again before Pete could respond. “Why have I never been invited to your home?”

  “You’ve been to my home,” Pete defended.

  “I’ve only ever stood in the foyer while you grabbed your coat.” Sadie paused. Pete was silent. “Your children knew nothing about me, and while I don’t discount the pain all of you have had since Pat’s death, you have moved on, Pete. You have developed feelings for me, but you’ve obviously gone to great pains to not let me cross into territory you’re not ready to address. Only I didn’t know that. I thought we were going somewhere that I’m not sure you’ve ever considered. I feel very foolish right now.” More foolish by the second. She wiped at her eyes and tried not to sniffle.

  The silence stretched even thinner over the phone line. “I don’t know what to say,” Pete said.

  “How about wishing me luck,” Sadie said. She wouldn’t m
ind some reassurance of his feelings either, but wasn’t going to beg.

  Pete let out a heavy sigh. “You don’t know what you’re getting into with this job, Sadie. You’re looking into a possible murder, and where there’s a murder, there’s a murderer. You don’t know this woman, and you don’t know the specifics of this case. There are right ways and wrong ways of gathering information.”

  Did he think Sadie didn’t know the difference? Being instructed by him right now set her teeth on edge, especially when he flipped to shoptalk in order to avoid the emotional things she’d brought up.