Madeleine Murder

by Sandi Scott

  “What about the madeleines?”

  “Don’t you want the chocolate cake?” she asked, knowing it was usually his favorite. “I can cut you a huge slice, and then you can sit here and eat it with me.”

  “Are you sure you’re not the one who wants the huge slice of chocolate cake?”

  She fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Maybe.”

  By three o’clock she was exhausted. Caffeine was the only thing keeping her awake. Soon the evening rush would start, and she would be hopping to take care of both sides of the tent. Patty had gone to pick up some emergency supplies to carry her through to tomorrow and should have been back twenty minutes ago. Ashley was glad she had baked extra the previous night. It was a challenge learning how much to bake ahead of time.

  But it was okay. Sales were still going great. Ashley had eaten and texted Maia to check on Dizzy. Maia had sent back a picture of a happy Dizzy panting in a park in front of a scene of small kids playing on a playground. Maia’s smiling face was next to her—a dog-sitter selfie. Ashley asked her to bring Dizzy to the festival so she could see her for a bit.

  “Excuse me, miss.” Ashley looked up to see Ryan standing in front of her again.

  “Back for more chocolate cake?” she teased. Ashley was happy that Ryan was actually slowing down and taking the time to flirt with her.

  “I’ll take some madeleines. I can carry those around,” Ryan said. “I mean, I’d love to stay. But I really have to keep moving.”

  He’d been working since the morning. “Don’t you have anyone who can take over for you? Aren’t you doing shifts?” He looked exhausted, and she selfishly wanted to hide him in the back of the tent and keep him there the rest of the evening.

  “There’s been so much going on this year that all of us volunteered to stay longer. My replacement’s already been at work as long as I have.” He grinned. “Come on. Don’t you remember that time we stayed up for almost seventy-two hours straight on a coding project with a short deadline?”

  She made a face. “I decided to become a pastry chef so I wouldn’t have to do that anymore.”

  “And yet, you’ve probably been up just as long as I have,” he said with a smirk.

  She wiggled her eyebrows at him and put half a dozen madeleines in a small white paper bag, then added two shortbread cookies. “Yes, but my desserts are so good that I only have to deal with happy people.”

  He ran his hand through his hair. “There is that. Would you stop putting stuff in that bag? I can’t eat all that.”

  To be sassy, she picked up one of the passion fruit macarons and shoved it in the bag with deliberate slowness.

  He grinned at her. “You’re just trying to make me fat.”

  Just then, Ashley saw Maia being tugged down the aisle by an exuberant Dizzy, who was running full speed between booths, stopping to sniff each one, then running full speed again.

  Ashley met them in front of the Seagrass Sweets tent. “Thanks, Maia, I’ll take her for a quick walk. You can stay and eat as much food as you’d like. I’ll be back in a bit.”

  For a moment Ashley and Ryan bent down to pet Dizzy together and caught each other’s eyes. They both smiled at the same moment.

  Ashley could feel her cheeks getting warm. Maybe if today wasn’t so busy… she thought to herself, I’d get that kiss.

  Then the moment passed. They both straightened up as Ryan said awkwardly, “I, uh, better get going.”

  “Me too,” she agreed.

  * * *

  Ashley wanted to wander back over to Sparrow Soulbrother’s tent and see if she could get a receipt. Her card being declined this morning was not something that happened often—and not at all since she’d graduated from college. She hadn’t been paying enough attention to her spending this week, obviously, and she needed to get back on track. If she and Patty were ever going to get that food truck, she needed to stay disciplined about her finances.

  Also, she wanted to test her theory about Sparrow’s observational skills and whether or not he would try to charm Dizzy. In fact, her invitation to Maia to bring Dizzy to the festival had been part of the plot! And if Sparrow saw Dizzy with her new dog collar, he’d definitely remember selling it to her. She shouldn’t have any trouble getting a receipt.

  As she and Dizzy walked through the festival area, Ashley realized that just as Sparrow Soulbrother had pointed out, there were people who noticed her dog before they noticed her. They usually got a childlike, delighted look on their faces. Sometimes they asked Ashley if they could pat Dizzy.

  Dizzy soaked up the attention like a sponge. Ashley did have to put her foot down when nice people tried to give her dog people food—she was allowed to give her dog occasional people treats, but she didn’t especially trust strangers to do so.

  Slowly, Ashley made her way through the vendor area until she was at the space occupied by Sparrow Soulbrother’s hemp products business.

  All the product and tables were still there. Even the chair was still there. But now his chair was filled by someone else—the woman in the teal crocheted cap.

  Ashley gaped at her for a second. The woman was the last person that Ashley had expected—and yet now, in this tent, she could see how the woman and Sparrow Soulbrother were like a matched set. The woman looked like she’d been in a fistfight, however. She had a pair of wire-rimmed, rose-tinted sunglasses on, but underneath them, her right eye was purple and swollen. She looked upset, naturally enough.

  The woman leaned forward out of the lawn chair and said, “Oooh, your dog is so pretty!”

  Ashley smiled. “Thank you!”

  “And you have a hemp collar just like the ones we sell! See? Right here.” She waved toward the dog collars. Her skin was tanned but smooth and well cared for. She still wore the hemp necklace with the sea glass dolphin. On the table, next to her, was a plastic tray with a number of similar necklaces.

  “Would you like a treat?” the woman asked Dizzy.

  At the word treat, Dizzy plonked her bottom on the grass in front of the table and put on her most obedient, good-dog face. Of course she wanted a treat.

  The woman smiled sadly and sniffed, then pulled herself together again. “I like dogs. I have dog treats with me… I always bring dog treats and put out a dish of water.” She pointed at the other end of the table, and Ashley saw it— a clean, insulated dog dish, the kind you put in the freezer and that keeps water cool for hours. “We’re on the road so much that we can’t have a dog anymore. It makes me sad. They’re organic dog treats. Please?”

  Ashley found herself liking the woman, almost against her will. “Okay, but just one. She’s been begging all morning.”

  The woman bent over and reached inside a big hemp bag marked with a multicolored quilt pattern, pulling out a plastic storage bag filled with a brand of doggie treats that Ashley recognized.

  Dizzy looked up at the woman with adoring eyes.

  “Who’s a good girl?”

  Dizzy sat up a little straighter.

  The woman tossed the treat into the air, and Dizzy caught it, crunching down on it happily.

  “She gets homemade peanut butter treats at home,” Ashley said with an exaggerated dog-owner sigh. “And yet she still begs for everything she can get.”

  “They always do.” They smiled at each other. The woman held out her hand, and Ashley shook it.

  “I’m Moonbeam.”

  “Ashley Adams. I own Seagrass Sweets, over in the food vendor aisle. And that collar is one that we bought here yesterday.”

  Moonbeam’s face fell. “You came back to see Sparrow, didn’t you?” She retreated back across the top of the table.

  “Yes, I was hoping to get a receipt for my collar. I forgot to get one yesterday. Is he here?”

  “Ha.” Moonbeam crossed her arms tightly across her front. “How would I know? He might be, but then again, he might not be. Don’t know why he’d bother to tell me where he was going or when he’d be back. After all, I’m just his little si
de…” Moonbeam cut herself off midsentence. Then she let out a long sigh and shook her hair. “Oh, shoot. Listen to me. You just asked a simple question and I can’t even think clearly enough to answer it.” She pushed her fingers up under her sunglasses and rubbed her eyes. “Honey, I’m sorry. Sparrow Soulbrother is… well… he’s out.”

  4

  “Is anything wrong?” Ashley asked.

  “I’m fine. Just upset. Nothing I haven’t seen before. Here one day, gone the next. That’s pretty much sums up Sparrow. We had a fight last night in the karaoke tent. It got pretty ugly, and he huffed off to our van in the parking lot to fix a flat tire while I headed over to the bonfire. Haven’t seen the jerk since. I probably won’t bother looking for him until it’s time to close up for the night.”

  “That’s terrible,” Ashley said, wondering how the conversation had suddenly swerved in such a disturbing direction. All she wanted was a receipt, and now it seemed like an excessively trivial matter to bring up. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”

  Moonbeam took a breath, closing her blue eyes once again for a moment, then opened them and looked straight at Ashley. “You already let me give your dog a treat and listened to my troubles. I got nothing but blessings for you and your dog.”

  Then she looked away again, down toward Dizzy.

  “Thank you,” said Ashley. “I hate to be a bother, but is there any chance that you could give me a receipt for the dog collar I purchased yesterday?”

  Keeping her focus on Dizzy, Moonbeam started wringing her hands, like she was trying to spread lotion around. “Uh, I… er… you see…” she started several times before taking a deep breath. “Actually, Sparrow would have taken all the paperwork to the van last night; it was his evening ritual. And I don’t know how to recall stuff on the money machine anyway. I guess we both have to wait to see him when he decides to show up.”

  Feeling awkward, Ashley decided to just let it go for now. “Would you like to pet Dizzy one more time?”

  Tears welled up in Moonbeam’s eyes, and she started to cry. “Yes, I would.”

  Ashley wasn’t sure exactly why, but she had a strange feeling about Moonbeam—something didn’t quite feel right. Perhaps she was just a woman who was sad about her cheating boyfriend who, by the looks of that black eye, didn’t treat her very nicely. Ashley often felt so bad for people in tough situations that she wanted to do what she could to help, but in the face of Moonbeam’s tears, it seemed best just to keep some distance.

  After Moonbeam finished petting Dizzy, Ashley and Dizzy headed back to the tent. Ashley was relieved to see that Patty had returned and was busy getting ready for the supper rush.

  “Did you get a receipt?” asked Patty.

  “No,” said Ashley. “It’s a long story, but I’ll have to try again tomorrow.” She handed Dizzy’s leash off to Maia and gave Dizzy a big hug while the dog licked her cheek as a goodbye.

  Just then, the volunteer that Ryan had introduced to Ashley the night before at the bonfire appeared at the table. “Coffee,” he said. “Tell me you’re not out of coffee.”

  “It’s Coyote, right?” She poured him a cup and handed it over. Nodding, he gulped it down, wincing at the heat, then handed her back the empty cup. She already had another cup of coffee ready. She swapped cups and tossed the used one in the trash.

  “You’re a saint and I don’t deserve this,” he gasped, then started sipping his second cup, much more slowly.

  “How did the closing on the house go, neighbor?” Ashley asked. Coyote stared out into space, then jolted back to look at Ashley again, as though he had forgotten she was there.

  “Oh, well,” he gave a big sigh. “To make a long story short, it didn’t. I ran into some unexpected delays when the bank called yesterday.”

  “I’m sorry! You seemed so sure about things going smoothly yesterday.”

  He shook his head. “Sometimes life throws you an unexpected curveball. Or, in my case, an unexpected identity theft.”

  “Oh, no!” Ashley said. “What happened?”

  “Well, there are about $200,000 in loans that were taken out in my name over the past year, although I didn’t have any idea. The bank told me the most likely explanation is that someone got ahold of my personal information—name, address, social security number, date of birth—and applied for all these loans as me, but then pocketed the cash without ever paying a cent back. Now my credit score is tanked and I can’t get a mortgage. ” Coyote looked resigned.

  “How devastating! Can the bank take care of it?”

  “They said I have to involve the police, file a criminal report. They were casual about it—says it happens way more than you’d think, and most times the thief is someone who knows the victim. But don’t worry. I’ll be okay. It’ll just take time to get everything sorted out.”

  “Well, then, you need a dessert. What would you like?” she asked.

  As he was making his choice, his eyes kept coming back to the fat slice of chocolate cake Ashley noticed. Smoke Daddy Lee came up just then, pulling a little red wagon full of supplies for Patty. “More supplies, he called out. “Want to see who can sell them the fastest?”

  When Ashley had returned from her break on Friday, Patty and Smoke Daddy had been standing across from each other, selling Ashley’s pastries like it was some kind of competition. Both of them were passing out tiny samples—Patty’s were of a slice of chocolate cake and Smoke Daddy Lee’s were of madeleines with the caramel-chipotle sauce. They actually had a bet going on—the loser had to take the winner out on a date.

  By the time she had returned, they had almost sold all of Ashley’s madeleines, with Smoke Daddy slightly ahead of Patty. Ashley wasn’t complaining, but the competition probably had given her an extra hour of baking to do the previous night.

  From the look on Patty’s face, Smoke Daddy Lee wasn’t the only competitive one in their relationship. But Ashley knew that already. She had never met a woman as driven to be the best as Patty.

  Today, it seemed as if Patty and Smoke Daddy Lee were arguing about the best way to make a steak. Smoke Daddy was in favor of grilling it, while Patty was insisting that steak au poivre—French-style pepper steak with cognac sauce—was far superior.

  Ashley rolled her eyes, then took the biggest, fattest slice of chocolate cake out of her remaining supplies and handed cake, napkin, and plastic fork to Coyote.

  “Eat,” she commanded.

  His eyes widened. “How did you know?”

  “I can read your mind,” she said in a kooky fortune-teller voice, drumming the tips of her splayed fingers together, pair by pair. As his eyes widened, she put one hand in front of her. “Don’t worry—it only works for desserts.” Delighted that her guess was correct, she started wondering if her practice at the tricks Sparrow had told her was paying off. She hauled out a chair and set it at the corner of the table. “Have a seat. Then at least you can sit here and monitor this area for a few minutes until you’ve eaten.”

  Coyote sighed and sat down in the chair. “I don’t deserve this,” he repeated. Then he started shoveling down the cake.

  Ashley laughed. “You were helping everyone all day and most of last night, I’m sure. Have a piece of cake on me.”

  “Thanks.”

  He popped another piece of cake into his mouth and chewed quickly. She wondered if he had had any lunch. Or any breakfast. He looked exhausted. “What time did you go to bed last night?” she asked.

  Coyote rolled his eyes, swallowing the cake, “I helped rebuild the bonfire and then stayed on to do some security, so I didn’t hit the sack until almost 3:00 a.m.”

  “Oh dear.” Seeing the cake was almost done, she slipped him another big piece, saying as she turned away, “You look like you need this.”

  A pair of customers had come to The Southern Bird side of the tent—and honestly, she wanted to give him some time by himself to finish eating and calm down.

  The customers ordered roast chicken and the ai
oli potato salad, and Ashley hurried to put their order together. They were the first in a nonstop stream of customers that kept her smiling, chatting, and serving for longer than she realized.

  The next time she looked up, the sun was setting, Coyote’s chair was empty, Smoke Daddy was back in his food truck, and she and Patty had once again almost wiped out their supplies. Patty said, “I think that deserves a reward. I’m going to go to the beer tent and smuggle out a glass of wine. Do you want one?”

  Ashley sighed. “I shouldn’t, but…”

  “I’ll take that as a yes. Why don’t you take a load off for a while and sit?”

  Ashley sank gratefully into the folding chair, waving a folded flyer promoting their two catering businesses in front of her face. The air was still heavy and hot, hot enough that she almost wished a storm front would come through and clear the air.

  After a few minutes, Patty returned with a stemless plastic glass of red for herself and a light white for Ashley. The two of them sipped their wine and leaned back in their folding chairs, watching the festivalgoers start to sort themselves out between the parking lot, the concert stage, and the karaoke tent, which was still going strong.

  The time passed as Ashley indulged in people watching, one of her favorite activities. As people passed, she would wonder what they were like and make up the stories of their lives in her head. It wasn’t unlike what Sparrow had told her he did, she realized. Although she had no way of knowing if her guesses were right, since none of the passers-by stopped for dessert. Of course, she didn’t care—it was endless entertainment for her, and she loved passing the time that way.

  Before she knew it, though, she saw someone coming whose stories she knew by heart—Ryan.

  Ashley finished her wine with a gulp and pointed down the green aisle of grass between the rows of tents at Ryan walking toward them. “Psst!” she hissed to Patty. “Drink up before the security gets here and we get busted!”

  Patty gave her a strange look, finished her wine, and stowed the glass under the table. “You either need more wine or less, girl. I’m not sure which.”