Gluten-Free Murder

by P. D. Workman

  “We don’t have a lot of those kind of people here. We like our meat. Whoever put meat in muffins anyway?”

  Erin studied Mary Lou for a moment, trying to divine whether she was teasing or being sarcastic. “You might not put meat in a muffin, but you would probably put eggs and dairy.”

  “And you could make it without all those things? Who would eat such a thing? It would be like eating cardboard.”

  “Not when I make it.”

  “I guess we’ll just have to see,” Mary Lou said. “I sure don’t cotton to the idea of you trying to take Angela’s business.”

  “I guess we’ll just have to see,” Erin echoed.

  #

  Mary Lou was the first the citizen of Bald Eagle Falls to express her opinion and welcome Erin to town, but she wasn’t the last. Next came Melissa Lee, a woman with curly dark hair and a wide, even smile. And then Gema Reed, with her long, steel gray locks and a girlish complexion.

  Erin did her best to explain to them that she wasn’t there to horn in on Angela’s business and take money out of her pocket, but to offer a new service that hadn’t previously been available. But it was like talking to the wall. Or yelling at an avalanche. It didn’t stop them from dumping advice all over her, while smiling and telling her she was welcome in town.

  She didn’t feel welcome.

  At least Terry Piper did not show up with his K9 to give his input on the matter.

  It was a long day and Erin never did meet Angela, her competition. The end of the day, the walls were freshly painted. Everything looked fresh and new. Exhausted though she was, Erin spent a few more minutes in the tiny office, going through the papers and plans in the folders she had brought with her from Maine.

  Then she locked everything up tight and headed back home.

  Chapter Two

  THE DAY DAWNED BRIGHT and clear. Erin woke up earlier than she expected after her hard work of the day before. She was looking forward to each new day, rather than dreading another day of work.

  Starting the day in her attic study, Erin wrote up lists of things she would need to get in the city. Not only did Bald Eagle Falls not have a specialty bakery, the general store did not carry any of the specialized flours or other ingredients that she would need. Erin had no intention of taking months getting outfitted. The store and the appliances were on hand and ready for use, so why wait?

  It was late when Erin returned to the shop at the end of the day. Darkness was settling over Main Street and the streetlights were few and far between. As she juggled her first armload of goods while trying to unlock the front door, chiding herself for using the front door instead of the back—even though she would have had the same problem at the back—a voice spoke in her ear.

  “Can I help you with those?”

  The bag of flour she was pressing against the door with her body in an effort to hang on to it while unlocking the bolt was removed from its position. Erin laughed a little and unlocked the door, turning to get the bag of flour back from him.

  She froze, looking into the dirty, sweaty face of a man she had never met before. He was white, though the word white did nothing to convey the color of his skin, dirt ground into it as if he had been working in a coal mine or living on the street for weeks. He had a fringe of a mustache and a few bristles on his chin, looking more like he was careless with his shaving than that he had intentionally trimmed his facial hair in a particular style. He had a filthy, army-green cap pulled down low so she could just make out his dark eyes.

  “I can take this in for you,” he offered. His voice was gravelly and low, but polite. He didn’t have the drawl that would indicate he was native to the area.

  “Oh, no, let me take it back,” Erin said, encircling the bag with her arm and taking its weight.

  He looked at her with a sullen expression that told Erin he understood that she didn’t want him in her store. She turned her back on him to take the supplies into the kitchen, mentally sorting out possible weapons and escape routes. She was sure he was going to follow her in. Would a scream bring Officer Terry Piper or whoever else might be on shift?

  When she went back out to her car for the next load, the man was still hanging around, as she had expected. He took bags out of her car and handed them to her.

  “Really,” Erin told him politely, “I’m okay. I don’t need any help.”

  He didn’t react with anger or violence, but his dark eyes glittered under the bill of his cap. “Just trying to be neighborly.”

  “I appreciate it. You’re very kind. But you’ve making me nervous.”

  She surprised herself by telling him that. Was she acting like a victim? Encouraging him to menace her further? She knew from self-defense classes that predators looked for shyness and low self-esteem. Did she sound weak saying he was making her nervous?

  But the man immediately backed off, shaking his head. “Not trying to make anyone nervous, miss.”

  “Then please leave me alone.”

  He stood there looking at her for a minute, then turned without a word and walked away. Erin blew out her breath, relieved. Here she had thought that moving to a small town in the South, she would be safe from crime and unwanted attention, but obviously nowhere was completely safe. She needed to be realistic instead of idealizing small-town living as being something it wasn’t. Next time, she would not be unloading her car after dark. She would plan ahead and be better prepared.

  Erin took the rest of the supplies into the kitchen and put them away. She stopped in the office to pick up one of her folders, frowning. She had a strange feeling of vertigo, like everything was slightly out of place. She couldn’t identify any one thing that would make her feel that way, but couldn’t help feeling like her things had been touched and moved around. She found the folder she was looking for on signage and took it home with her, locking up carefully.

  #

  Traffic was even quieter than usual in the sleepy town when Erin got to the shop to finish organizing her ingredients and to make plans for what she would make to kick off her opening and really wow her customers.

  She was sitting at her desk in the tiny office, scribbling away and flipping back and forth between recipes when she heard the bells over the front door jingle. She didn’t want anyone sneaking up on her today.

  Erin reluctantly stood up from her work and went out to the front of the shop. It was Gema Reed, the beautiful gray-haired woman.

  “I thought I saw your car outside,” Gema declared. She couldn’t very well have missed it. It wasn’t exactly camouflaged. And it was one of the only vehicles parked on sleepy Main Street. “So, I thought I would drop in and make sure everything was okay?”

  Erin tilted her head slightly, trying to figure out where Gema was going with the inquiry.

  “Umm, yes. Everything is fine. Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “Well, being as it’s the Sabbath and you’re at work. I was worried maybe you had a water main break or vandals. Maybe even a fire. You never know what’s going to happen.”

  “No, there’s nothing wrong. I just wanted to get some work done. There’s lots to do before I open.”

  They stood there looking at each other awkwardly for a few moments. Erin knew she was moving into the Bible belt, but she hadn’t expected things to be that different from the way they had been in the North. Some people were religious and some people were not and everybody observed their beliefs as they wished. But apparently, things were not quite so straightforward in the South.

  “Well, maybe no one invited you to Sunday morning services. You probably don’t even know the schedule!” Gema proclaimed. “Now there are lots of churches to choose from, of course, but if you want to join us at First Baptist, just down at the end of Main Street and Garity, why, we’d love to have you!”

  “I’m going to have to pass…” Erin said slowly, feeling her way through. “I’m not really the churchgoing type.”

  “Not the type? Why, bless your heart, dear, you don’t have to be
a type to join your fellow Christians at worship on Sunday! You… are a Christian, aren’t you? Not one of these… other sects? I don’t mean to put down Jews or Muslims or anyone else, but here in Bald Eagle Falls, we’re Christian. Baptists, Catholics, Protestants, it doesn’t matter, as long as you’re Christian!”

  Erin cleared her throat. She wished she had brought a cloth with her out to the front, so she could occupy herself with polishing the glass and chrome display case and counter. Just to have something to do with her hands and somewhere to look other than Gema Reed’s benevolent Christian face. “Actually, Mrs. Reed. I’m not.”

  “You’re not… what? You don’t look like a Jew or one of those… pagan people. Not everyone goes to church every Sunday, but…”

  “I’m… not Christian. I’m atheist.”

  “Atheist!” Gema was aghast. She held her hand dramatically at her throat, halfway to covering her mouth in horror. She stared at Erin pleadingly, as if she thought it might just be a clumsy joke and Erin would change her tune. “You’re not! Really?”

  “Yes. I am. I’m sorry if that upsets you…”

  “Well, Jesus loves every humble seeker of the truth. You are a seeker, aren’t you? Not everyone can be converted, but as long as you’re looking for the truth, you will find it in the end…”

  Erin took a deep breath and let it back out again. As much as she wanted to smooth Gema’s ruffled feathers, to just reassure her and send her on her way, she wanted to get it out in the open. Her real beliefs, not just rumors or half-baked explanations.

  “Mrs. Reed—”

  “Gema, sugar…”

  “Gema. I am an atheist. Not an agnostic. Not an investigator or a seeker. An atheist. I’m not looking for something to believe in. I already have a belief system. And it doesn’t include God.”

  Gema gasped audibly and this time she did cover up her mouth. “Oh, my dear…”

  Erin forced a smile. “I’m not a witch or a devil-worshiper. And I won’t try to talk you out of your beliefs. But I, myself, do not believe in God. Not a god of any sort. Not the universe, or Mother Nature, or a higher power, or Jesus. I’m sorry.”

  “Well.” Gema looked for a moment as if she would flee without another word. Instead, she smoothed her waves of silver, took a calming breath and gave a polite nod. “Everybody is entitled to their own opinion, no matter how wrong. I’d better get on my way, or I’ll be walking into service late. I just hope… that you won’t be encouraging others to break the Sabbath by your blatant disregard for it. You won’t have your bakery open on Sunday, will you?”

  Erin gave a little shrug. “Didn’t my aunt Clementine have it open after services on Sunday?” she asked tentatively. Her memories of Clementine’s Tea Room were startlingly clear in some respects and shrouded by fog in others. She was sure she remembered helping to serve the church ladies after Sunday services. They had all thought her such a cute, pretty young thing. She remembered her resentment over being treated like a puppy or a baby instead of a person with a mind of her own. She loved helping Clementine in the tea room, but she didn’t like that part of it.

  Gema made a noise of indecision, not wanting to admit that Erin was right and yet compelled by her Christian morals not to tell a lie. “Mmmmm… yes, it is true that she opened up for an hour or two after services on Sunday, so the ladies would have somewhere to go to discuss Christian services required in the upcoming week…”

  “So, it would be okay, as long as I waited until after your worship services?”

  “As an atheist, I’m not sure it would be the same…”

  “I would be shunned for opening my restaurant, but a Christian would not? When it’s against a Christian’s beliefs, but not mine? Wouldn’t it be worse for a Christian to do it?”

  “I just don’t know,” Gema snapped, shaking her head in confusion. “I must get on now, but I’ll… I’ll think it over.”

  “Okay…” Erin gave her a little wave. “You be sure to let me know what you ladies decide. Someone mentioned that Clementine’s Tea Room had been sorely missed and I thought that if I could provide a similar service…”

  Gema Reed gulped. She shook her head and retreated. The bells tinkled behind her and Erin stood there, watching her get into her big red truck and pull out into the street. Then she was gone.

  Erin went back to her office to continue working on her opening and marketing strategy. She added ‘Sunday social tea’ to her list with a wry smile and continued to look through her recipes.

  #

  After Erin finished her plans, she carefully filed her folders in the cabinet beside the desk. There was no reason to leave her lists scattered all over her desk and take the chance of losing something when she had a perfectly functional file drawer to put everything neatly away. She emptied the dregs of her cold coffee from her mug and washed it out, leaving it upside down on a towel to dry.

  When she stepped out of the shop onto the sidewalk, she nearly collided with a woman coming the other direction. Sunday had been so quiet, she hadn’t expected any foot traffic and hadn’t even looked before stepping out the door.

  “Oh, I’m sorry!” she apologized.

  The other woman was ruddy, a redhead, on the plumpish side. Her hair fell in waves around her head, partially obscuring her face. She stepped back from Erin, folding her arms across her chest and staring at Erin as if she had just committed a mortal sin. Which, given Gema’s reaction to Erin working on a Sunday, was probably the case.

  “I didn’t see you coming,” Erin apologized. “That was my fault. I’m sorry.”

  The woman ignored the apology. “You’re Clementine’s niece.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “You don’t favor her, do you?”

  “I don’t remember her too clearly,” Erin admitted. “And I don’t really know what she looked like in later years.”

  “If you don’t remember her, then what are you doing here? Why come to Bald Eagle Falls?”

  Erin’s mouth was dry. She tried to put together words that made sense, flummoxed by the woman’s attack.

  “I inherited the store and the house. I wanted to reopen the shop.”

  “Only you’re not,” the redhead hissed. “You’re not reopening the tea room, you’re opening a bakery.”

  “Well, yes. That’s what I do, I bake. I’m still planning on serving tea after Sunday services each week, so the women can get together…”

  “We don’t need another bakery.”

  Erin sighed and shook her head. “It’s a specialty bakery. It means people won’t have to go into the city to get gluten-free or allergy-friendly baking. It doesn’t directly compete with the other bakery.”

  “You are competing, little Miss Out-of-Towner. And you’re not going to last a week!”

  With that, the redhead marched on, shouldering past Erin with a force that staggered her and made her catch herself on the side of the building.

  Looking across Main Street, she saw Officer Terry Piper watching her, K9 at his side. She considered calling him over to vent about the rude woman, but decided that would just be sour grapes. She didn’t really want to charge the woman. There was no point in reporting the encounter to the police.

  #

  Erin yawned as she pushed open her door, sending the little bells tinkling in welcome. She was going to have to get used to getting up early if she were going to be running a bakery. She was going to have to get up while it was still dark and everyone else was sleeping in order to have freshly baked goods in the display cases when people started walking in for a little something to go with their coffees or office meetings.

  Her day would start way before anyone else’s and, if she were going to stay open past afternoon, she was going to need to find an assistant to split shifts with. It wouldn’t have to be another baker, just someone who could answer questions about ingredients and work the cash register.

  Taking into account the not-so-warm reaction she was getting from the women of the town,
she might have to go to the city to find someone willing to work the bakery.

  Erin juggled her keys and her bag of groceries to turn on the kitchen light and put her bag on the counter.

  Her coffee mug lay on the floor, shattered. Erin frowned and looked around. A shiver ran down her spine. Had someone been there? Had her shop been broken into?

  For a few moments, she just stood there, frozen, listening for any movement.

  There was only silence. She considered the situation. Had she put the mug too close to the edge of the counter and it had fallen off by itself? Were there earthquakes in Tennessee?

  The imprint of the mug was still in the towel she had left it sitting on. Close to the edge of the counter, but not over it.

  She heard the bells on the front door ring and hurried out to see whether someone was leaving the shop. Had she actually walked right past an intruder? Maybe hiding behind the counter, below her eye level while she yawned and juggled her groceries in the morning dimness?

  She stopped stock-still. Nobody had left the shop; wild-haired Melissa Lee had come in. She was all smiles and sweetness, launching into a long-winded description of some fundraiser that she and some of the other women were running. She cut herself off abruptly.

  “My dear, you look like you’ve just seen a ghost. Are you okay?”

  “I… I think someone has been in here.”

  “What do you mean, in here?” she asked doubtfully.

  “I think someone broke in…”

  “You have been burgled?” Melissa’s voice rose, a mixture of disbelief and alarm. Such things were probably unheard of in sleepy little Bald Eagle Falls. “Honey, you stay right there while I get the police.”

  Melissa hurried back out the front door and, without a clue what else to do, Erin obeyed, standing there like a statue. It was only a few minutes before Melissa returned, Officer Terry Piper in tow with his K9. Melissa was babbling on about crime rates and burglaries. Piper ignored her and focused on Erin.

  “The place was broken into?” he demanded.