Books, Cooks, and Crooks (A Novel Idea Mystery)

by Arlington, Lucy

  Makayla looked back over her shoulder, spotted me, and waved for me to join her.

  “I’ll watch the shop!” Trey called out from behind me and I turned and gave him a thumbs-up.

  By the time we neared the man playing the clarinet, an elderly gentleman dressed in a tuxedo appeared from the interior of a car parked at the corner. He waited for the clarinetist to give Makayla her rose before blowing into the mouthpiece of his French horn. It took me a moment to identify the song.

  “It’s ‘When a Man Loves a Woman,’” I told Makayla.

  “Do you know what’s going on here? Because if you do, you need to tell me right now!”

  “I have no clue,” I said, keeping my face bland. Of course, I suspected this was Jay’s doing, but I wasn’t going to be the one to spoil his big moment. “I’m as surprised as you are.”

  The patrons from Espresso Yourself had followed us down the sidewalk and a dozen more townsfolk joined our little band as we walked from musician to musician. We’d formed a small parade. Without a leader, none of us seemed to know where we were going, but we were all too curious not to continue on.

  The next musician was on the other side of the street, standing on the path leading to the fountain of the Nine Muses. He held his saxophone in the air until the traffic light turned red and the moment it did, the French horn player bowed and handed Makayla a rose.

  “Who arranged all this?” she asked, but he only smiled and gestured for her to hurry and cross the street.

  As soon as we reached the opposite side, the saxophonist began to belt out, “You Are So Beautiful.” This time, he led us forward and we fell into step behind him. Musicians began to pop up all over the place. Two trumpet players appeared from behind the bushes and a cellist got up from a park bench nearby. The violinist from the coffee shop had somehow beaten us to the fountain and she and another flutist had taken up the song. Then, to my utter astonishment, we heard the sounds of a piano.

  “No way,” Makayla breathed.

  But there, on the side of the fountain where Erato, the muse of love poetry, stood forever strumming her lyre, was a baby grand piano. Its entire surface was covered with red rose petals.

  The moment Makayla and I drew close to the pianist he abruptly stopped playing. “Who are you?” Makayla asked. “Why are you doing this? Please, don’t get me wrong, I’ll be smiling for a year just thinking about today, but I am one confused barista right now.”

  The man simply handed her a rose and pointed at the fountain. There, sitting on the edge between Erato and Calliope, was Jay Coleman.

  “I have something to say to you,” he said and picked up an acoustic guitar from the ground. He strummed the strings once and began to sing the opening lines of “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face.”

  The rest of the musicians accompanied him, but his voice soared above all of them. He wasn’t an accomplished singer and some of his notes were off key, but he looked at Makayla with such tenderness and infused every word with such passion that it didn’t matter. It was as if they were the only two people on earth. I was overjoyed to see my friend’s eyes were filling with tears of happiness. She clutched her roses to her chest and stared at Jay in amazement.

  When the song drew to a close and the crowd broke into thunderous applause, Jay laid his guitar aside and got down on one knee. Holding out a red rose, he said, “I’m your secret admirer. I’m sorry that I’ve borrowed other people’s words to tell you how I feel. Now it’s time for me to use my own, and all I need to say is that I’ve loved you since I first saw you. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever known, Makayla. It’s not just your green eyes or glowing skin or supermodel body, either. It’s your kindness, intelligence, your love of art and books, and the way you care about the people of this town that make you so exquisitely beautiful. I would be honored if you’d have dinner with me.”

  Collectively, we held our breaths and stared at Makayla. She took a step forward, accepted the rose, and said, “Would you mind standing up for a second?”

  It was obvious that Jay was desperate for an answer, but he was too much of a gentleman to deny Makayla’s request, so he slowly got to his feet. He gazed at her with a look of such keen expectation that I wanted to shout at her to say yes.

  She leaned in, whispered something in his ear, and then took his face in her hands. With all of us looking on, she inched even closer, erasing the space between their bodies, and kissed him hard.

  The crowd went wild and I was right there with them. I hooted and clapped, smiling with joy at the romantic scene. The musicians broke out in song again, and when the peppy strains of “Happy Together” by the Turtles floated over the small park, people began to dance.

  I gazed around and saw the cheerful, grinning faces of Inspiration Valley’s merchants and residents. After the violent deaths that had occurred here last weekend, I’d forgotten how magical our town was and how spontaneous and wonderful life could be.

  It was with no small measure of regret that I left the jovial gathering around the fountain to return to Novel Idea, but I had to get some work done. I almost stopped by Espresso Yourself to tell Trey what had happened, but decided that I’d let Makayla share the story with him. It would sound richer and more colorful coming from her, and besides, it was her story.

  The rest of the afternoon passed swiftly. With Jay’s musical montage still playing in my head, I read through two days’ worth of queries in a couple of hours. I was in the middle of emailing an author a request for a partial manuscript when Jude knocked on my open door.

  “What a day!” he exclaimed and collapsed into my guest chair. “I never knew a leisurely hike through a pristine forest could be so easily ruined, but between the chefs and those miserable twins, it was a disaster.”

  “Hold that thought,” I said. I finished the email, hit the send button, and then gave Jude my full attention. “Did you learn anything?”

  Jude shook his head. “Other than Leslie hates bugs of every size, shape, and color? Or that Charlene is in terrible shape and needs to hit the gym more often? That those kids of Ryan can argue about what shade of blue the sky is?” He rolled his eyes. “No, nothing important was revealed, though your mother may have had a better opportunity to gather intel during her palm-reading sessions during lunch. I asked her about them on the way down, but she said they were confidential.” He shrugged. “Maybe she’ll tell you more.”

  “I sure hope she got something out of that group. Flora and I spent most of our lunch with Ryan and Annie talking about cats.”

  “Cats?” Jude laughed. “You’re a sly detective, Lila.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “Yep, that’s me. I just bring up the subject of kittens and people confess all their dirty little secrets.”

  All traces of humor vanished from Jude’s face. “Did you know that Dennis Chapman was released?”

  “No. I’ve been completely engrossed in my work.” I ran my hands through my hair in exasperation. My buoyant mood had evaporated like an early morning mist. “Back to square one. Murderer on the loose. No leads. No arrests. No—”

  “Chefs packing their suitcases and leaving us in peace,” Jude moaned. “But we have to keep forging ahead, Lila. We have lives to lead and clients to sign. We can’t let this one twisted individual hold us back or define how we behave.”

  His words were inspiring. “You’re right,” I said and thought of Annie. The poor young woman had already lost years loving a man who wasn’t available. Ryan’s rejection shouldn’t hold her back. I needed to convince her to live her dreams without him. “Thanks, Jude. Now I know exactly how I’m going to spend my evening. I plan to enjoy my little corner of heaven regardless of what’s happened.”

  “I’m sure you and I have different definitions of heaven.” Jude gave me an impish wink and left my office.

  When I was alone again, I dialed Annie’s cell phone number. Her hello was thin and fragile and when I asked her to come over to my place for supper, she
hesitated. “You’ve had a terrible day and I’m sure that my insensitive comments did nothing to help,” I said. “Let me make it up to you. I’m a good listener and I’ve been in your shoes before, so I know exactly how you’re feeling right now.”

  After a lengthy pause, Annie accepted my invitation and I gave her directions to the house. “Can I bring anything?” she asked when I was done.

  “Absolutely not,” I said. “You’ve been taking care of other people for far too long. Let me spoil you for a change.”

  “That sounds really nice.” Her voice sounded a little brighter. “See you in a bit.”

  After tidying my desk, I said good-bye to Vicky and headed downstairs to tell Trey that we were having company for supper.

  “I already made plans, Mom. I’m catching a movie in Dunston with a few guys from high school. I won’t be home for supper.”

  “Oh, okay.” It would have been nice to have someone closer to Annie’s age at the dinner table, but Trey had been working so hard that I didn’t want to ask him to change his plans. “How’s Makayla been today?”

  “I don’t think her feet have touched the ground.” Trey grinned and we both stared at her. She was talking to a customer by the fixing station and was so animated that she seemed to have forgotten that she was holding the cinnamon shaker. As she spoke, brown sprinkles rained onto the floor. “Jay figured out how to get the girl all right,” Trey said. “He totally pulled out all the stops.”

  Makayla finally noticed what a mess she was making and laughed. After dusting off her customer’s sleeve, she excused herself and headed down the back hall, undoubtedly in search of a mop.

  “Have fun tonight,” I told Trey and followed Makayla.

  I found her waltzing with the mop in the storage closet. “Jay’s a handsomer partner,” I teased.

  She examined the cleaning tool. “I do believe you’re right. I always thought he was cute. And smart as a whip. And funny. I just assumed he was involved with someone. He never talked about anyone in particular, but I figured there was no way such a catch could be available.”

  “You were,” I pointed out.

  “Not anymore.” She beamed. “I don’t even need to have a first date to tell you that I am officially off the market. Do you know how many times I’ve chatted with Jay at the Constant Reader? I liked him from the get-go, Lila. I just didn’t know how much until today.”

  I smiled at her. “I’m thrilled for both of you.”

  She dropped the mop, threw her arms around me, and squeezed. “I only hope we can be as happy as you and your man. Are you seeing Sean tonight?”

  “I wish, but no,” I said. “I have a different kind of date. I’m going to try to make a young woman forget her troubles for a little while.”

  Makayla pointed at the mop and frowned. “Who’s the girl? And does she have man problems?”

  I nodded. “The worst kind. It’s Annie, Klara’s assistant. She loves someone who doesn’t love her back.”

  “Nothing hurts quite like that.” Makayla’s fern green eyes filled with sympathy. “A homemade meal and a glass of chardonnay will go a long way toward making her feel better. You’re a real gem, Lila. A diamond in a pile of cubic zirconia.”

  I swatted her lightly on the arm. “You must be in love. I’ve never heard you utter such a bad metaphor.”

  She laughed again. “Lord, have mercy, I must be!” She picked up the mop and drew it against her chest. “Come on, you sexy thing. We have memories to make together.”

  When I left the coffee shop, Makayla was pirouetting around the floor while Trey looked on in amusement. I carried the image in my mind as I shopped for groceries and started to prepare a meal of lemon chicken, butter beans, and wild rice. As day gave way to night, I closed my eyes and wondered how long it would be before Sean would be free to dance with me on the lawn under the bright gaze of a million stars.

  • • •

  THE PHONE RANG just as I was placing a vase with lilacs from the garden on the table. The centerpiece was the final touch. Everything else for my dinner with Annie was ready.

  “Oh, sweetie,” my mother said before I’d barely had a chance to say hello. “I meant to call you sooner, but I had to take a catnap after traipsin’ up the mountain with those ungrateful out-of-towners. I was plain tuckered out.”

  “I’m not surprised. You were a real trooper for volunteering. Did you happen to learn anything useful?” I asked as I adjusted one of the lilac blossoms.

  “Maybe. I’ll tell you one thing though. That Jude is a darlin’ boy, and ever so patient. The way he handled those twins—”

  “Mama, Jude already gave me his report. I don’t mean to rush you, but I’m expecting company any minute.”

  “Shoot, I don’t want to keep you from gettin’ ready for your man,” she said contritely and I didn’t bother to tell her that it wasn’t Sean who was coming to dinner. My mother took a quick breath and continued right where she’d left off. “Jude was a doll, but doesn’t know a thing about the intimate confessions I heard durin’ my one-on-one sessions.”

  My heart thumped in anticipation. “You mean you discovered something that might help solve the murders?”

  “I found out lots of things in every readin’, but I still can’t say for certain that one of our little band of hikers killed Klara or Joel.”

  Disappointment edged its way into my tone. “What did you learn then? Could we at least cross a name or two off the list of suspects?”

  “That would be mighty risky because they’re all capable of serious wickedness. Charlene has a deeply etched fate line, which means that she’s strongly controlled by destiny. If destiny compelled her to eliminate her competition, then she could have done the deed. Leslie has a very shallow life line, meanin’ she’s easily manipulated by others. She could be someone’s puppet. And the shape of Carrie’s hand, where her palm is shorter than her fingers, tells me that she’s got a big ego and is impulsive and insensitive—just the kind of person who would do away with a step-mama.”

  I didn’t see how my mother’s assessments of these people based on their palms would be of much use, but she’d tried her best to help, so I thanked her and then insisted that I had to go.

  “Lila, I’m not done yet. I wanted to tell you that when I looked at your cards this mornin’, I saw real danger in the—

  The peal of the doorbell drowned out the rest of her sentence. “Mama, my company is here. I’ll call you back later, okay?”

  I hung up and opened the door. Annie stood at the threshold holding a clay pot containing three clusters of plants with dark textured leaves. Delicate blue flowers grew in a posy at the center of one of them, the second had white blossoms with magenta edges, and the third had vermillion blooms. Their centers were all a friendly yellow.

  “I stopped in at Secret Garden and bought some primroses for your garden,” she said, extending her gift to me. Her eyes were red-rimmed behind her glasses and her face pale.

  “They’re lovely, thank you.” I took the pot. “I’ll set it here on the porch for now. Come on in. I’ve got a bottle of sauvignon blanc chilling.”

  She hesitated on the threshold. “Can we sit out here for a bit? It’s such a warm evening.” She gestured in the direction of the porch swing.

  “Sure. Dinner’s not quite ready yet. I’ll just get our drinks.” In the kitchen, I checked on the rice cooker before putting the lemon chicken in a preheated oven and set the timer for twenty minutes. When it buzzed I’d have time to steam the butter beans before the chicken was done. Pouring two glasses of wine, I placed them on a tray along with a dish of roasted almonds and carried it out to the porch.

  Annie was swaying back and forth on the two-seater swing, her fingers entwined on her lap. I set the tray on the glass-topped table, handed her a glass, and took a seat in a white wicker rocker.

  She took a sip. “Have the cops gotten any closer to finding out who murdered Klara and Joel? I noticed that Dennis was back at the hotel
, so I guess I was wrong about him. I feel really bad about pointing the finger at him.”

  “The authorities didn’t have enough evidence to hold him,” I replied. “But that doesn’t mean he’s no longer a suspect.”

  Her swinging slowed a bit. “It’s nerve-racking, having to stay in this town, knowing there’s a murderer on the loose. I just want to go home.”

  “Yes, I know. But I’m confident he’ll be apprehended very soon,” I said, sipping my wine.

  “Or her.” Annie stared vacantly out at the garden. “You have a pretty spot here.”

  “I still have a ton of work to do in the yard before it lives up to my vision,” I said, thinking about the mental list I’d concocted earlier today.

  “The primroses would look good under that tree, in that bare patch beside the hostas.” She pointed at the maple in the corner of the yard. “They do best in shade. My grandmother used to have multicolored primula beds under the trees in her garden.”

  “That’s a great idea. I’ll plant them there.” I gazed at the pot of flowers she’d brought. They looked like such congenial little blossoms. “Were you close to your grandmother?”

  She nodded. “My parents worked a lot, so I went to her house after school almost every day. That was in Holland.” She smiled slightly. “Did you know I was Dutch?”

  I raised my eyebrows. “No, I didn’t. That’s a remarkable coincidence, considering Klara’s . . . oma was also Dutch.” I wondered if Annie knew the truth about Mieke, the woman Klara had pretended to be related to.

  Annie pressed her feet to the porch floor, jerking the swing to an abrupt stop. Wine splashed over her hand and dripped onto her pants, but she didn’t seem to notice. “Klara was no more Dutch than you are, Ms. Wilkins. The oma who created the recipes that deceitful crook stole was my oma.” She rubbed a trembling hand on her jeans.