by Lori Woods
“Thanks a lot, you guys,” Clary muttered bitterly. The other two began laughing more loudly as the phone began to ring. She shook her head at her friends and went to answer the call, making sure to “accidentally” smack Marie’s head and toss a pillow at Logan. “Hello? Okay. No problem. How many?”
“Did we sell more brownies?” Marie asked eagerly, getting up to her knees.
“Yeah, Jessica Isaac isn’t feeling so great. Finn wants to send her some brownies.”
“But her house is on the other side of town,” Marie complained, pouting slightly. “And he wanted sugar-free options.”
“He must’ve changed his mind,” Clary shrugged, “and we don’t have to take them to her. He wants to surprise her when he gets home. We just have to take some brownies to his office. Just leave them at the front desk with Ronnie.”
“Wait,” Marie held up her hands, “why must I go?”
“I pay your salary,” Clary reminded her, bagging the brownies. “Logan, put the cat down.”
“He likes it,” Logan protested, turning around with Loki in his hands. To her displeasure, Loki did seem to be enjoying the attention.
“I don’t care,” Clary told him seriously. “He’s my cat. Put him down, you’ll spoil him.”
“You’re always spoiling the cat,” Marie pointed out as she put on her coat.
“You know what,” Logan said, putting the cat down, “I’m going out anyway, I’ll take the brownies over.” Marie nodded gratefully and handed him the bag.
When Logan left, the shop was quiet, and Clary felt almost relieved. Things had been so crazy lately that she felt grateful for a moment’s peace. Unfortunately, it didn’t last long. They first heard the sirens from a distance and dismissed them. No modern person was concerned when they heard sirens. They assumed that something went wrong somewhere. As long as it didn’t affect them, it was all right.
They did, however, take notice when the ambulance sped past the shop. Marie put down her cookbook in concern and went to go look out the window, while Clary lowered her own book. Eventually, they could just shrug and go back to their business. No news came for another hour. Loki was settling down for another nap and Marie was getting things ready for the next day. Everything was back in its comfortable pattern. It felt like Story Tree was a warm hideaway in a quiet winter land.
Then the police walked in.
Chapter 7
Clary’s blood froze, and she put her book down in dread. They hadn’t heard from Chief Sanchez or Ben in a few days, so a part of her had hoped that they were on the scent of a new suspect. Marie looked over at her with a terrified expression, and slowly began wringing the dishcloth in her hands.
“Officers,” Clary greeted pleasantly, “how can we help?”
“We have some bad news,” Chief Sanchez said gravely, his dark eyes studying Marie carefully. “A few hours ago, Kelly Moyes was rushed to the hospital.”
“Oh, no,” Clary put her hand over her mouth in shock. She felt a pit opening in her stomach. She didn’t know Kelly all that well. Kelly wasn’t the type of person who frequented a bookstore, but she was a sweet girl nonetheless. These cases were always tragic, but they were especially more so when it happened to young people.
“What happened?” Marie asked, ever practical. She had lost all the color in her face, and the dish towel in her hands was being wrung to shreds.
“We suspect that it’s strychnine poisoning,” Chief Sanchez told them gravely. “The doctors don’t think that she’ll make it through the night.”
“Is that why you’re here?” Marie asked honestly. “To ask if I’ve poisoned her?”
“No,” Chief Sanchez said slowly, obviously taken aback by her attitude. “We were wondering if she bought any brownies from you today.”
“She didn’t,” Marie snapped, looking agitated.
“Marie,” Clary said soothingly, walking over to stand next to her friend. “I’m sorry, we haven’t had many customers lately. I can tell you who bought brownies today. If that helps at all?”
“Why my brownies?” Marie asked suddenly, staring at them in suspicion. Ben shrank back slightly, but the chief met her gaze evenly.
“They pumped her stomach in an effort to get rid of the poison. The doctors found what looked like brownies in her stomach.”
“Lovely,” Clary commented, wrinkling her nose in disgust.
“It’s not a pretty picture,” Chief Sanchez said, looking mildly disgusted.
“So, you think that it could be our brownies?” Marie asked, sticking to the point. “Look, I’ll be honest. Business has been slow, I only sold brownies to three people today.”
“Only three?” The chief asked, a hopeful look crossing his features.
“You know that this is like trying to find a needle in a haystack,” Clary pointed out. “The poisoner could be using their own brownies.”
“The doctors don’t think that these brownies were made by an amateur,” Chief explained. “They have very specific ingredients. We tested one of Marie’s brownies and found that they had similar ingredients.”
“Her brownies are special,” Clary commented, hoping to appease a fuming Marie. Her strategy didn’t work.
“How dare they,” Marie seethed, clutching the dish towel angrily. By now, the red and white threads were beginning to look more than a little worn. “My brownies! To poison people! Disgusting!”
“Yes,” The chief coughed awkwardly, looking at Clary in alarm. “We’ll just take that list of people and be on our way.”
“We sold brownies to Erica, Logan and Dr. Isaac,” Clary winced as she listed the names. Three of those people were very nice to her, and she didn’t want to throw Logan under the bus. She consoled herself with the fact that Logan wouldn’t have to worry if he was innocent.
“There’s one more thing,” Marie said quickly, “Erica has rat poison in her shop.”
“So do you,” Chief reminded her. Marie closed her mouth and turned a bright shade of red.
“Let us know if we can do anything else to help,” Clary said quickly, hoping to get the police out before Marie lost her temper. Thankfully, Chief Sanchez seemed satisfied and walked out after a curt greeting. Marie didn’t say anything and turned to the kitchen with a vengeful expression on her face.
Clary winced and looked out of the window. It was nearly time to close the shop anyway. When she spotted Logan walking out of his shop, she was struck by a brilliant idea. She quickly put on her coat, deciding that it was better not to interrupt Marie’s angry pot banging.
“Logan!” she called, her words poured out of her mouth in the form of a fine mist.
“Clary?” he asked in confusion.
“Did you hear about Kelly?”
“No?” he said, looking confused. Clary sighed heavily and relayed the sad news. Logan’s eyes widened and he shook his head in despair. The truth of the matter was that the investigation was about to become more than inconvenient now. “She’s such a good girl,” he sighed. “She doesn’t deserve this.”
“We need to find out who’s doing this,” Clary said resolutely.
“I wish it was that easy,” Logan told her, a thoughtful expression on his face.
“It’s not impossible,” Clary shrugged. “We can try and talk to some of her friends. Maybe someone knows something.”
“Where are we going to find people who knew Kelly? None of us knew her.”
“She’s a twenty-year-old stuck in Valley Springs, I think we’ll be able to find a few places.”
“Like where?”
“Like Springs Bar,” Clary suggested. “I know all the young people like to go there.”
“Aren’t you one of them?”
“I’m an old soul,” Clary said with a smile, gesturing that they should walk. The two of them walked toward the bar, an uneasy silence settling over them. They didn’t know each other long enough for the silence to be comfortable.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Logan a
sked when they walked into the bar.
It was only starting to get dark and there were only one or two people in the establishment. Clary sniffed uncomfortably as her senses were assaulted by the smell of old cigarettes and various colognes.
“I don’t know where else to look,” Clary admitted as they sat down. Logan motioned to the bartender while she looked around in disgust. Clary was a bookworm, a comfortable little introvert. Public places like these made her feel uncomfortable and out of place. She could talk to people in her shop, because it was where she belonged. If you took her out of her comfortable hole, then she’d struggle.
“So,” Logan started slowly, “what brings someone like you to Valley Springs?”
“My book store,” Clary answered, giving him an incredulous look.
“No,” he chuckled, “I mean, why Valley Springs? What made you decide to open a book store here?”
“I liked the atmosphere,” Clary shrugged, trying to find a suitable answer. Logan gave her a curious look, but she avoided his gaze. “I don’t see anyone young enough to be Kelly’s friend.”
“What about her?” Logan pointed to a figure in a booth at the back. The young woman was nursing a drink as she stared at the back wall.
“I don’t know,” Clary shrugged. “I can’t see her face.”
“Let’s go find out,” Logan suggested with a determined expression.
“We can’t!” she hissed, but he had already started toward her. Clary released a heavy breath before quickly following him. As they got closer, Clary was surprised to see that the mysterious young woman was none other than Ronnie.
“Is this seat taken?” Logan asked with a charming smile. Ronnie looked up startled, but she relaxed when she saw Clary.
“Oh, hi,” she said softly, wiping at her eyes.
“I see you’ve heard about Kelly,” Clary said gently, sitting down next to the young woman. Logan looked nonplussed, but sat down across from them, keeping his expression neutral.
“Yeah,” Ronnie said sadly.
“I’m so sorry.”
“It’s just so crazy,” Ronnie sniffed. “She’s my friend. I saw her yesterday and everything was fine. She wasn’t even sick. Who would do this to her?”
“I don’t know,” Clary said soothingly, “but I want to find out, so that we can get justice for her and Eddie.”
“What do you mean?” Ronnie asked, looking up sharply.
“We want to find out who did this,” Logan explained. “This is happening very quickly, and we want to get to the bottom of it.”
“So,” she breathed out slowly, “you’re investigating this?”
“Well, technically Clary is,” he shrugged. “I’m clueless.”
“I’m just asking a few questions,” Clary clarified, shaking her head. “It’s not a real investigation.”
“She already has a suspect,” Logan told her, raising an eyebrow at her.
“Really?” Ronnie asked curiously, tilting her head at Clary.
“Not really,” she admitted sheepishly. “I was just hoping you could tell me a few things about Kelly?”
“Did Finn tell you I’d be here?” Ronnie asked carefully.
“No, we just thought we’d come and find some of Kelly’s friends and ask some questions. We were hoping that someone would have some information for us.”
“We weren’t very close at the end,” Ronnie admitted sadly. “She was angry because I took the job with Finn.”
“What do you mean?” Clary asked carefully.
“Kelly used to work at the dentist’s office. She had to leave because Finn didn’t think that it was a good fit for her. She tried to get me to stay away from the job.”
“Why would she do that?” Clary asked in confusion.
“Finn is a nice guy,” Ronnie said carefully, looking around hesitantly, “but I don’t think he was telling the truth. Kelly was furious when he fired her, so I think that something else might’ve happened.”
“What kind of something?” Logan asked, leaning forward in fascination.
“Look,” Ronnie shrugged, “I don’t know. All I know is that Finn won’t talk about it, and Kelly didn’t want to let it go. But he might’ve been telling the truth, to be honest, I wish I could leave too.”
“Why?” Clary asked in concern.
“I’m not passionate about teeth,” Ronnie laughed stiffly.
“I can’t imagine anyone is,” Logan scoffed.
“Except for Finn,” Clary pointed out.
“Well,” Logan changed the subject, “what are you passionate about?”
“You’re going to think it’s silly,” Ronnie gave a nervous chuckle.
“Now we have to hear it,” Clary teased, leaning forward on her elbows.
“I want to bake,” Ronnie muttered shyly.
“Oh, like Marie?” Logan asked curiously.
“Exactly like her,” Ronnie gushed. “She’s my hero. That’s why I’m always there for lunch. Marie makes the best pastries. I’m trying to work up the nerve to ask her for some tips.”
“She’s not that scary once you talk to her,” Clary said encouragingly. “Just ask her, and I’m sure she’d be happy to help.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” Ronnie pointed out good-naturedly, “you’re her friend. I’m just a stranger.”
“I’ll tell you what, why don’t you come around tomorrow, after work? We can work with her on some recipes. I’m sure she’ll be happy to show you some tricks of the trade.”
“Wait,” Ronnie gasped, “are you serious?”
“Yeah,” Clary said excitedly. “She’s been a little sad lately. I’m sure this is just the thing to cheer her up. She usually bakes for the next day around that time anyway. You can just watch while she’s doing it.”
“That would be incredible,” Ronnie said excitedly.
“It’s wonderful,” Logan agreed dryly, “but it’s not why we’re here.”
“Oh, right,” Ronnie said seriously, looking a little sheepish. “Well, here comes Eddie’s ex. Why don’t we ask her about it?”
Chapter 8
“So, Kelly used to work for Finn Isaac? At the dentist’s office?” Marie repeated, tapping the counter thoughtfully.
“That’s what I said,” Clary said cheerfully, munching on a brownie. “I can’t believe none of us realized it. Maybe she wasn’t working there for very long? And why didn’t she come into the shop? Aren’t we hip enough?”
“No one says ‘hip’ anymore,” Marie pointed out, “and to be fair, neither of us have been to the dentist in a while.”
“That’s true,” Clary sighed. “We’d go to the undertaker before we went to the dentist.”
“He also told you that joke?” Marie asked in amusement.
“He tells everyone that joke,” Clary chuckled. “Finn is going to have it engraved on his gravestone, I swear. Anyway, focus on the important thing here. Kelly and Finn have this massive secret. Why did Finn fire Kelly? Apparently the two left on very bad terms. You know, I hate to say it, but is it possible that he wanted to keep her quiet about something?”
“Don’t talk like that,” Marie grumbled. “We know him well. Remember that Eddie was killed first. Why would he kill Eddie, then Kelly? Unless he’s just a psychopath, he would’ve just gotten rid of Kelly.”
“I said that I hated saying it, but you know it’s always the person you last expect. All I’m saying is that we have to look at every possible angle. We can’t let him off the hook just because he tells bad jokes and is obsessed with teeth.”
“This isn’t a book,” Marie sighed, shaking her head. “We can’t just go ask him a bunch of questions and find a clue hidden under the floor.”
“That sounds like a horrible book,” Clary muttered, wrinkling her nose. “No, I agree. We can’t just burst in and ask a bunch of random questions. We owe him more than that. I say that we go in and ask why he fired Kelly. The direct approach is always the best approach.”
“That
’s the only approach you know,” Marie accused. “I’m sorry, but I’m not going to do it. Besides, you signed me up as a teacher, so I have to get things ready for little Miss Veronica. I’m busy, you go do it.”
“Ah,” Clary gasped, “you do think there’s something there. You’re just too scared to come with me. You’ve been yelling about Ronnie all morning, now you want to prepare?”
“Yes,” Marie sniffed, looking away guiltily, “I believe that you must throw yourself into every project. Ronnie, my replacement, will be my project. I must teach her to do my job well.”
“She isn’t your replacement,” Clary sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’ve told you. She just wants to learn how to bake like you. She idolizes you. I thought you liked being worshipped.”
“Train her to do my job?” Marie snapped. “No, the student always wants to overtake the master. Where will she use these mysterious baking skills? To steal my job! Judas!”
“Who’s Judas? Her or me?”
“You! And her! Both!”
“I think there can only be one Judas. Can I be Brutus?”
“No!”
“All right. Look, someone will have to do your job while you’re in jail.”
“I’m innocent!” Marie cried, glaring at her fiercely.
“I agree, but the police might not. Let’s find our murderer, and then no one will ever replace you.”
“I won’t teach Ronnie.”
“That’s all right,” Clary said soothingly. “I’ll tell her that you had to cancel. We can give her a free brownie as a consolation prize.” Marie pouted, but didn’t say anything further. “Can we go talk to Finn now?”
“If we’re going to accuse of him murder, then we must call him by his title.”
“Why? Is it a French thing?”
“It’s a human decency thing,” Marie snapped, putting on her coat and glaring outside sullenly. It was as if she blamed the snowy weather for all her misfortunes.
“You know,” Clary said as she brought her mittens closer to her face to shield herself from the icy wind, “if we find the killer, we should open a murder mystery place. What do you call that? We could add it to Story Tree’s front sign. Books, Pastries and Murder Solving.”
