by Carol Durand
“Ewww…you have snakes in your house…by choice?” Missy was astounded, her spoon stopping midway to her mouth.
“They’re pets. Watch out, you’re going to drip,” she looked pointedly at the spoon, which Missy then popped into her mouth.
“Oh wow, that’s delicious, it tastes like fresh-picked peaches,” she exclaimed. “And I just think it’s strange to voluntarily house reptiles.”
“You have a dog, it’s all the same,” Echo asserted firmly. “That’s my rice milk peach whip. Ian Barker had more peaches from his aunt’s trees than he had buyers for, so he brought me several bushels and they just have the best flavor.
Missy exercised a great deal of willpower in not grimacing at the mention of Ian’s name, preferring to focus on the delightful dessert in front of her. “Hey, you know what…Ian Barker is actually the reason that I’m afraid of snakes!” she remembered.
“Ian? How on earth did that come about?” she asked, presenting the next concoction, a Honduran coffee ice cream made with coconut milk.
“He was a couple of years behind me in school, and when I was in 7th grade, on the last day of school, he slipped a garter snake into my backpack. I opened it up at home, in my room, and reached in, startling it, and it latched onto the webbing between my thumb and forefinger. I pulled my hand out of the backpack and shook it as hard as I could, flinging the snake to the floor and ran from my room screaming. I refused to go back into my room until my dad went in and removed the snake. I had nightmares for weeks after that, and found out from Ian that he was the nasty little prankster who did it. I didn’t speak to him for quite a while,” Missy shuddered, remembering. She took a bite of the coffee treat and her eyes practically rolled back in her head at the ridiculously delicious flavor.
Echo stifled a giggle behind her hand. “Well, you can’t exactly blame the snake in that scenario. Sounds like Ian was quite the little mischief back in the day.”
“Mischief…hmmf, that’s one word for it,” Missy observed wryly.
“Don’t you think he’s kinda dreamy?”
“Dreamy? Ian? Hardly. I’m actually shocked that you do.”
“Really? Why? He’s good looking, charming, has that “Southern boy manners” thing going on,” she sighed. “I mean…wow. Why wouldn’t I think he was wonderful?”
Missy put down her spoon, trying hard not to let the degree of her distaste for Ian Barker show when she answered. “Hmm…I don’t know, maybe because he’s a spoiled little conspicuous consumer whose never worked a day in his life and you’re setting out to save the planet one recycled bowl at a time?”
“You really don’t like him, do you?”
“I actually don’t really care one way or the other. I hadn’t thought about him in years before I ran into him after his aunt’s death. We’re just very different people I suppose,” Missy shrugged as a bowl of light green ice cream was placed in front of her. “What’s this one?” she asked, poking at the mass with her spoon.
“Ginger and lime,” Echo responded, still focused on their conversation. “Well, you and I are very different people, and we get along well.”
“Yes we do, and I’m glad,” she smiled, taking a bite of the latest treat. “Ooooo! This is made with coconut milk too, isn’t it?”
Her friend beamed. “Yup, put the lime in the coconut and eat it all up!” she joked.
The two laughed and chatted and found themselves forgetting all about snakes and Ian Barker as they discussed everything from the environment to politics to old boyfriends (although Echo became markedly distant when that topic came up, making vague references to shiftless charlatans – Missy made a mental note to ask her more later). When Missy left a couple of hours later, stuffed and happy, she was thankful for a pleasant afternoon, and was looking forward to exercising her ice cream indulgence away in the company of her energetic Toffee.
Chapter 12
Missy sat on her couch, an unopened novel on the seat beside her, absently stroking Toffee’s fluffy ears and thinking about Chas. She missed his gentle smile and easygoing manner. He had a way of making even the darkest of days seem at least a bit brighter. The more that she thought about the ridiculous situation that was separating her from the handsome detective, the more frustrated she became, finally making up her mind to call him, come what may.
“I miss you,” Chas said, without preamble when he answered her call.
Missy’s eyes filled with happy tears at the mere sound of his voice, and when the meaning of his words struck her, she could’ve cried with joy. “I miss you too, and I have an idea.”
“That sounds like something that could get me in trouble,” he teased.
“Not at all,” she reassured him, fingers crossed behind her back. “I’m going to be having a dish of ice cream at Sweet Love in Dellville tomorrow, around 4:00. If you, coincidentally, happened to have a craving for ice cream at that same time and wind up in the same place, surely there’s nothing wrong with that, right?” she asked sweetly, with just a touch of mischief in her voice.
“Actually, it stretches the bounds propriety, but, whatever. I haven’t had ice cream in ages, so yes, there is a good chance that I might be hungry for a frozen treat around 4:00 tomorrow,” he replied, and Missy could hear the smile in his voice.
“Well, I will warn you in advance…Sweet Love is an entirely different kind of ice cream shop,” she giggled, happy at the thought of seeing him.
“Different? Different how?” he asked, suspiciously.
“Let’s just say, it’s a healthier alternative than the typical ice cream place.”
“Healthy and ice cream should not be in the same sentence. I don’t indulge in dessert often, but when I do, I’m perfectly okay with the fact that I’m shoveling an artery-hardening caloric nightmare into my mouth,” Chas grumbled.
Missy laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ve tasted several varieties, and I think your need for decadent dessert will be more than satisfied,” she assured him.
“Actually, I probably won’t even know what flavor I’m eating, I’ll be too busy paying attention to one of my fellow patrons.”
Blushing, despite the fact that he couldn’t see the impact of his words on her, Missy enjoyed the rest of their brief conversation and hung up feeling better than she had in a very long time. Immediately after hanging up, she rushed upstairs to her closet to find the perfect outfit for the next day, finally settling upon a bright fuchsia sundress with a sweetheart neckline. Choosing simple white beads and strappy sandals to complete the look, she hung the outfit on the back of the bathroom door so that she could slip into it after her shower in the morning.
Morning dawned grey and dreary, with a light drizzle that did little more than raise the humidity, making the heat seem oppressive, but Missy didn’t care. She sailed through her morning routine, leaving the house ten minutes earlier than usual. The workday sped past with a bustling crowd keeping her and Cheryl busy right up until lunchtime. After the glass cases were restocked, and all prep was done for the next day, Missy let the hard-working young lady head out early, confident that she could handle any customers straggling in on her own. She had just tipped the last of the chairs upside down on a table, officially closing the shop for the day, when she spotted the scruffy-looking man, who had run from her before, slipping into an alley next to the ice cream shop across the street. She couldn’t leave the store unattended to chase after him, by the time she ran to the back for her keys to lock the door, he would be gone, and she might be putting herself in danger if she provoked him again, so, in utter frustration, she watched as he disappeared yet again, not bothering to even call Detective Johnson.
The cloudy greyness of the day apparently had a negative impact upon the flow of business at Sweet Love, because when Missy went over at 3:55, watching anxiously for Chas’s car, the only person in the store was Echo, who sat at one of the tables reading a magazine.
“Slow day?” Missy asked, beaming at her friend.
“Craz
y slow!” Echo nodded. “How bout you?”
“No, we were as busy as ever, although it really dropped off in the afternoon.”
“Are you here for a visit or can I get you something?” she closed the magazine.
“Both, actually, and there’s someone I want you to meet, when he gets here,” Missy added shyly.
“Look at you blushing,” Echo teased. “He must be really special.”
“He definitely is…” Missy began, closing her mouth when the object of her affection and conversation walked in the door.
“Well, imagine running into you here – what a coincidence,” Chas grinned at her, brushing her lips briefly with his. Missy wanted to cling to him and never let go, but observed the proper decorum for two people who weren’t supposed to be seeing each other.
“What a coincidence indeed,” she agreed, glowing. “There’s someone I want you to meet.” She took him by the hand, practically dragging him over to where Echo had risen out of her chair, and introduced the two, forgetting to mention that Chas was a detective.
“So you’re the new owner here, congratulations,” he said, extending his hand, which she shook briefly.
“Thanks, it’s been quite the adventure,” Echo’s gazed traveled subtly from head to toe over the handsome detective.
“Are you from around here?” he asked, while moving over in front of the freezer cases to check out the selection.
“No, I just moved here,” she replied, going to stand behind the counter, because the dashing man was clearly interested in getting some dessert. Missy moved to his side, ostensibly to check out the current flavors, but clearly just trying to find any reason at all to be next to the charming male.
“Really? Where from?” Chas peered more closely into the freezer case.
“California. See something you’d like?” she asked coyly. Missy completely missed the double entendre, entirely preoccupied with deciding between Carrot Bran Coconut Dream (which tasted just like carrot cake) and Banana with Carob Chips, but Beckett picked up the subtle signal immediately and chose to ignore it.
“I’d like to try the Peanut Butter Parfait please, just two scoops in a dish,” he answered, pretending that he hadn’t received the very clear invitation. “So what brings you all the way to the swamps of the deep South from California?” he asked innocently.
“Change of scenery,” was the terse reply, delivered with a somewhat strained smile that Detective Beckett’s acute perception didn’t miss. “Missy, what’ll you have?” Echo turned her attention away from the detective, who continued to observe her.
“I think I’m going to go with the Carrot Bran,” she decided finally, craving carrot cake. She’d have to whip up a batch of Spiced Carrot Cupcakes in the morning and top them with ooey gooey cream cheese and pecan frosting.
“Good choice,” she commented, dipping a large scoop into a bowl for her friend. “Hey, if you guys don’t mind, I have some things to take care of in the back. Help yourself to water or anything else that you might need, okay?”
“Okay, we’ll go have a seat on the patio if you finish up and want to join us” Missy replied, puzzled. She had been so eager to introduce Chas to her new friend, and now she just disappeared. The couple carried their bowls to a bistro table on the patio, enjoying the fresh air from underneath the table’s umbrella, despite the cloudy weather.
Chas seemed to be deep in thought. “How long have you two known each other?” he asked conversationally.
“Just since she bought the shop, a few months or so.”
“So why do you think she moved here from California?” he was suddenly very interested in his ice cream, avoiding Missy’s eyes while she answered.
“You know, it’s kind of strange, I’ve asked her that myself, multiple times, but she never really seems to answer. I get the impression that it may have had something to do with a failed relationship, but I’m not sure.”
Chas nodded, savoring a bite of Peanut Butter Parfait. “Just seems a little weird that someone who is so clearly into a very “California” lifestyle would pull up stakes and move to a teeny tiny town in Louisiana to run a vegan ice cream store. I wonder how she got the money for the purchase…Did she have an ice cream store out there that she sold?” he asked, lowering his voice.
“Hmmm…you know, she never said. I have no idea. For all I know, she could be a bank robber,” Missy giggled. Chas chuckled along, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Chapter 13
Detective Chas Beckett had a feeling in his gut that all was not as it seemed in regard to Echo Willis. He had a good friend who was a detective in the LAPD, and he pulled some strings to have him run a check on her. His friend, Chuck Grambino, said that he would do what he could and get back to him in a couple of days. In the meantime, Chas was going to do some checking of his own and see what he came up with. It bothered him tremendously that Missy seemed to take the woman at face value, but he didn’t want to warn her off if there was really nothing sinister in her past or present.
Feeling restless, he decided to park his unmarked car behind a building that gave him a perfect vantage point for watching the back door of Sweet Love. Every other shop in the area had been closed for hours, but there were still lights on in the back of Echo’s store. A large, solid panel van pulled up close to the back door and a man got out. Chas was too far away to see any distinguishing features, but could tell that he was somewhat tall; around 6’, of medium build, and wore dark-colored clothing. The man looked around before dashing into the building, then came back out shortly thereafter carrying a bulky, obviously heavy bundle. Beckett had seen bundles like that before, and if it was what he thought it was, his intuition regarding Echo Willis had been correct. When the van left Sweet Love, it turned the corner right before the block where Chas was sitting in his car, giving him a perfect line of sight to the license plate. Copying down the number, he followed the van with his lights off, disappearing against the backdrop of the darkened city streets, but once he came to a more populated area, he dropped back further, so as not to be seen, and lost the van at a stoplight. Instead of heading home, he headed to the station, Chas Beckett had work to do.
Missy was disconcerted to say the least, when she awoke to a loud banging on her front door. Hurriedly, she slipped into her robe and glanced at the time on her cell phone. Who on earth would be at her door at 6:30 in the morning? Toffee rose from her plaid fluffy bed in the corner of Missy’s room, stretched and followed her down the stairs. Sighing aloud when she looked through the peephole and saw Detective Gilbert Johnson accompanied by two uniformed officers, she unlatched the chain and opened the door.
“Ms. Gladstone, sorry to bother you at this hour, but I have a few questions for you, if you don’t mind,” the detective explained.
“Do we have to do this now?” Missy sighed, not wanting to conduct any kind of interview in her robe.
“Time is of the essence, I’m afraid,” Johnson insisted.
“Fine,” Missy opened the door to let him in. “Please have a seat at the kitchen table. I’m going to go get dressed and I’ll be back down in two minutes.”
“Not a problem,” he nodded, taking a seat. The uniforms remained standing.
Missy returned, clad simply in light blue capris and a white polo shirt, with her hair atop her head in a messy bun. “I’m going to make coffee while we chat, would you like some?” she asked, measuring the grounds into a filter.
“No, thank you.”
“Would you boys like a cup?” she offered to the two uniforms standing silently in the dining room. Both said no, but seemed pleased to have been asked.
“What brings you here this time, Detective?” she asked, pouring water into the coffee maker.
“Can you verify your whereabouts last night?”
“I was asked to provide three different types of cupcakes for the Methodist Church New Member Social, so I stayed to meet the new folks, and chatted with Sally Helgerson, the Pastor’s wife
until around 9:00, then I came home, cleaned the cupcake trays that are sitting to the left of the sink over there,” she gestured to the trays that were in full view, sitting on a drying rack. “Then I went to bed, and was actually exhausted enough that I fell asleep immediately.”
“That’s what I’d heard from Bonnie, down at the station. She was at the social last night. Just wanted to confirm it with you. Sally Helgerson corroborated that account, and so did your neighbor across the street, who was sitting on her front porch and noticed both when you came home and when your lights went out,” Johnson nodded, making a note in his notebook, then closing it.
“Detective, why is where I was last night important?” Missy asked, puzzled.
The detective looked pained, almost as if he’d eaten something that didn’t quite agree with him. “We…found something, and we thought that you might possibly be involved.”
“Really? What was it that you found?” she sat down, her hands wrapped around a cup of fresh coffee.
“A body,” he said, watching her for a reaction.
Missy put down her mug, eyes wide with surprise. “A body? Oh dear…who is it?” she asked, not certain that she wanted to hear the answer.
“Well, actually we were hoping that you might be able to help us determine that.”
“Me? How on earth could I help you determine the identity of a dead body?” she was horrified at the thought.
“The description of the individual closely matches the description that you gave us of the drifter who scammed free cupcakes from you and used your phone to call Cora Nesbitt before she died. I’d like you to come down to the morgue and take a look to see if you think it’s the same person.”
Missy shuddered at the thought, the hair on the back of her neck standing up. Swallowing hard, she said, “Well, if you think it would help, I could try. Do you think he’s the one who killed Mrs. Nesbitt?”
