Gluten-Free Murder

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Gluten-Free Murder Page 13

by P. D. Workman


  “Oh, yeah,” she said. “I remember him.”

  Had Andrews known who Erin was and what she was doing, opening up the specialty bakery? He had been the one person who had gotten close to her flours and other baking supplies. Was it possible he had tampered with something? If Angela had bullied him for not having a job, maybe he had decided to take his revenge. And the missing autoinjector was just a coincidence. The icing on the cake. Or maybe he had done a job for her and picked her pocket.

  “Was he here on opening day?”

  “I don’t know,” Vic reminded her. “I wasn’t around on opening day.”

  “Oh, that’s right. I’m sure I would have noticed him.” Erin remembered how busy opening day had been. “Maybe. But not if he had a key and came through the back. If he did odd jobs for Clementine, maybe he had a key. It doesn’t seem like he could have contaminated one of the ingredients… No one else reported reacting to any of the baking. It seems like Angela was the only one. Like it was targeted.”

  Vic raised an eyebrow, listening with interest to Erin rambling on. “So, is he another suspect?”

  “Maybe. But it is a reach. I’ll have to mention him to Officer Piper.”

  She watched him out the window for a minute. He was putting flyers on cars. Was he being paid by someone else, or trying to drum up for business for himself? He was younger than she remembered from that night. Older than she was, but not by so much. Not a grizzled old man. Handsome, in a way, if it hadn’t been for the dirt that seemed to be ingrained in his skin.

  Vic caught her staring at the man and raised her brows.

  Chapter Eleven

  SOMEHOW, WORD THAT ERIN had gotten her hands on a Civil War era treasure map seemed to have spread through the town like wildfire. Bald Eagle Falls might have only had a weekly newspaper, but news obviously traveled much faster through other means. Everyone seemed to have something to say about it, even Peter’s mother, when she stopped in to pick up some bread and some cookies. Erin reminded herself that she had been planning to start up a kids’ club. She just needed to sit down at the computer and design some kind of membership and point-tracking card. In the meantime, she offered the Foster children each a free cookie.

  “I’ve heard there’s all kinds of treasure in the hills,” Mrs. Foster said. “Gold for soldiers’ payrolls, or valuables stashed away by rich families who didn’t want to be pillaged. Some of the rumors go back even further than that. To pirate gold or valuables the early settlers hid from the natives. Or sacred artifacts that natives hid from the settlers!”

  “Pirate gold?” Vic echoed. “In Bald Eagle Falls?”

  “Pirates!” Peter exclaimed, brandishing an imaginary sword while he munched on a cookie in the other hand. “We should search for pirate gold!”

  “No, not right in Bald Eagle Falls,” Mrs. Foster said. “In the hills. Hidden in caves. The map Erin found, it’s a map of the caves, isn’t it?”

  Erin smiled as she rang up the bill. “I really don’t know how much the map would help anyone searching for treasure. It is old, but I don’t think any of the information is secret. It’s just a mining survey or something, not a pirate’s map.”

  “No one knows where all the caves are around here. There are all kinds of stories about lost caves and mines. The hills are riddled with them. Like Swiss cheese.”

  “Can we search for gold?” one of Peter’s sisters begged. “Can we go to a cave?”

  “We’re not going to a cave,” Mrs. Foster told her. “That’s all I need. My children getting lost in a cave.”

  “We wouldn’t get lost!” Peter objected.

  “Yes, you would. You get lost at the grocery store. What would I do? Go home without all of my children?”

  “We don’t get lost,” Peter said. “Just separated. That’s different. We could find our way home.”

  “From the grocery store, maybe. Not from a cave, deep down in the ground.”

  The littler girl started to cry and Mrs. Foster rolled her eyes. “What’s the matter, Juni?”

  “I don’t want to get lost in a cave in the ground!”

  Mrs. Foster pulled her close. “You are not going to get lost in a cave, Juni. No one is going to get lost in a cave.”

  As they left the store, Juni continued to whine and snivel, while the others made their plans to go searching for pirate gold.

  “Pirate gold?” Erin said to Vic, laughing.

  “Never get between a southerner and rumors of treasure!”

  “You still want to explore caves?”

  “I promise I won’t get lost!”

  #

  It felt good to go home at the end of a busy day, back to the comfort and familiarity of the house, to pat her furry little fuzzball and just relax. It was nice to have someone else there and not just be knocking around by herself through the empty house.

  As she sat on the couch and patted the snoozing kitten, Erin reminded herself that she needed to take care of the household chores, too. Kitty kibble crunched under her feet in the kitchen and the litter box needed to be looked after. She should do some grocery shopping so there was some real food in the kitchen and they could have a substantial supper without having to order in.

  But she was so tired after her work days that she just didn’t have the energy to do much else.

  Vic was sitting across from her, poring over the map like she was looking for Blackbeard’s treasure. Erin smiled and looked down at the slim weekly paper that she still hadn’t finished reading. Her eyelids were heavy and, by the time she finished reading it, the next one would be out. Aside from an article recapping the news of Angela’s murder, there were only a few articles, a couple of weekly columns, and several large blocks of advertising. It shouldn’t take her a week to read that much.

  But she was still so new in town that she read through each of the advertisements carefully to learn all she could about the other businesses in town. What services they offered, what methods they used to attract business, keywords in their advertising copy. She even studied the graphics and pictures they used to figure out what resonated with the readership base. She would need to start advertising as well. Using the wrong picture or words in her ads would be like flushing her hard-earned money down the toilet.

  Erin turned the page and closed her eyes for a moment to rest them. She needed to get herself bathed and off to bed, or she was going to be falling asleep on the couch. She didn’t want to end up with a crick in her neck for the next week.

  “Can we really go to one of these caves on Sunday?” Vic asked.

  Erin startled slightly and opened her eyes. Even after telling herself she couldn’t go to sleep on the couch, she was dozing instead of reading the weekly.

  “Sure, I don’t see why not,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “We need to do something to relax. We’ve been working hard. We should pick up some groceries too. And…” Erin stifled a yawn, but couldn’t stop it, and covered the view of her tonsils as best she could. “And I need to do some cleaning and sorting through some of Clementine’s things.”

  “You won’t throw anything out, will you?”

  “I don’t know yet. I don’t know what there is. I certainly don’t need to keep all her clothes. And I don’t think you want them, do you?”

  “She wasn’t exactly my size,” Vic admitted. Clementine had been a tiny woman. Her pants would be as short on Erin as Erin’s were on Vic. “But there are some things that might work okay. Scarves and accessories. You might be able to wear some of her shirts or blazers.”

  “I don’t think so. But I’ll see if there’s anything either of us wants to keep before I give them away. We’re both going to need closet space. We can’t just keep living out of boxes and bags.”

  Vic nodded. “I suppose.”

  “Just let me know if you want something. I don’t mind.”

  “It’s really nice of you letting me live here—”

  “Don’t start that again. I need you. I had no idea how much I was
going to need someone else to help me run the bakery. Even now… I think we could still use another person. What do you think?”

  “Maybe,” Vic agreed slowly, “but I don’t like the idea of having someone else in our space.”

  Funny how quickly Vic had adopted it as her space.

  “We’ll work it out. I don’t have anyone to hire right away anyway, just thinking about what we’re going to need if we’re going to stay afloat. If we both run ourselves into the ground, we won’t be doing ourselves any favors.”

  “Yeah.”

  The kitten stretched and readjusted itself in Erin’s lap. He needed a name. She scanned for name ideas on the newspaper page. James? Terrence? The General? She blinked drowsily.

  “I think I found the one I want to go to,” Vic said.

  Erin opened her eyes again. She was going to have to get up; if she sat on the couch any longer, she was going to be asleep for sure. She looked down at the newspaper and saw Vic’s picture.

  Erin frowned. She rubbed her eyes and looked at the photograph again. It wasn’t Vic. It was a boy. A teenager, around Vic’s age, but a boy, not a girl. There were similarities between their features. If Angela were Vic’s aunt, then maybe she had cousins around as well. Erin studied the words around the photo. A missing boy, several towns away. James. Erin stared at his eyes, fringed with long lashes that would have been the envy of any girl.

  She had seen those eyes before and she knew where.

  “Vic…?”

  Vic looked up from the map, her excited smile fading as she took in Erin’s expression. She got up and went to see what Erin was looking at in the paper. Her face lost the pink flush in her cheeks.

  “Oh.”

  “Vic, is this… your twin?”

  Vic scratched the back of her neck. “Uh… no.”

  Erin looked again at the name of the boy. The full name. James Victor Jackson. Vic. “Then… is this you?”

  Vic sighed. “Yeah.”

  Erin tried to process it. To make sense of what was going on. “Did you… dress as a girl so that no one would find you?”

  “No.” Vic sat down and Erin could see that she was shaking. “I’m sorry. I’ll leave if you want me to. I know you probably don’t want… someone like me staying in your house.”

  “Explain it to me. I’m confused.”

  “I am a girl,” Vic asserted. “But… I’m transgender. I was raised as a boy, but my gender identity is female.”

  “And that’s why your parents kicked you out.”

  “Yes.”

  “And that’s why Angela wouldn’t have anything to do with you when you went to her for help.”

  “She was always nice to me when I presented as a boy. I did work for her during summers and school breaks. Helped around the bakery or her yard or whatever she needed done. She was always really good, paid me, looked after me while I was staying with her. I just thought… that was the logical place to go.”

  “But when you went to her as a girl, that all changed.”

  “I’ve been called names before. I always stood out, even trying my best to be masculine. But Aunt Angela… she was so cruel!” Vic’s voice broke. She wiped at her eyes, trying to keep the tears at bay. “And then I didn’t know where to go. I didn’t know what to do. I knew where she kept the key to Clementine’s and I thought I would just stay there a night or two, while I figured out what to do.”

  Erin was no longer sleepy. She put her arm around Vic’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze. Then she rubbed the girl’s back.

  “I’m so sorry your aunt treated you that way. And your parents. That’s not right. Even if they don’t agree with your… gender identity… that’s not what they should have done. They should have… shown you love and support.”

  “It goes totally against the way I was raised.” Vic sniffled and tried to stop the tears. “I get that. I was raised that there are only two sexes, male and female, and that’s it, and whatever parts you’re born with, that’s what you’re stuck as. That God decides, and that’s what he makes you, and it’s a sin to feel different. So, I get it… they think it’s breaking a commandment, just like stealing or murder… But…” her voice broke.

  “I know.” Erin gave Vic another squeeze. “It’s okay.”

  The kitten was disturbed and got up, climbing from Erin’s lap to Vic’s.

  “Oh! Ow, he’s got claws!” Vic picked the kitten up, detaching him carefully from her pants. She held him to her chest to stroke him, bowing her head close to him. He wriggled around, getting fur up her nose. When Vic sneezed, the kitten jumped away, landing on the floor and looking at the two of them as if offended.

  Erin laughed. The kitten stalked away. He disappeared into the kitchen.

  “We need a name for him,” Erin said, wiping the corners of her own eyes. “I mean, kitty is fine, but he should have a name.”

  Vic got a couple of tissues from a box in a crocheted cover on one of the side tables. She blew her nose. “I have a name for him.”

  Erin smiled. “What’s your idea?”

  “Well, he’s orange.”

  “Yes.”

  “I thought… Orange Blossom.”

  Erin raised her brows. “Orange Blossom? Kind of a funny name for a cat, don’t you think? Especially for a boy cat?”

  “People name their cats all kinds of things. And as far as it being too feminine… don’t forget who you’re talking to.”

  That made Erin laugh in surprise. “Well, okay, consider the source,” she agreed. “I don’t know. I’ll think about it. We’ll see if it sticks, shall we?”

  “Okay,” Vic agreed.

  “And now, I think it’s time to get ready for bed. I was falling asleep sitting here reading the paper.”

  Vic nodded her agreement. Erin got up and headed toward the bathroom.

  “Erin…?”

  “Yes?”

  “You won’t tell anyone, will you?”

  “That you picked the cat’s name? I’m not taking the blame if people think it’s weird.”

  Vic giggled. “No… about me. People here, they’re not very open-minded.”

  “You might find that more people are accepting of you than you think.” At Vic’s stricken look, she continued. “But I won’t out you to anyone. It’s up to you to tell people or not. You’re really lucky that no one else has matched that picture up with you.”

  “I know… but if they do, I’ll just say he’s my twin, or something. Like you thought.”

  “Okay. That’s up to you. Won’t folks around here remember you, though? And that you didn’t have a twin, when you used to come work for your aunt?”

  “I’ll just say… we were raised by different parents, or something. Like in that Disney show where the identical twins were raised apart.”

  “Whatever you want. It’s your choice.”

  Vic let out her breath. “Thanks. And what about… the policeman? Officer Piper. You won’t tell him?”

  Erin considered that, closing her eyes to focus on the question and imagine the scenarios in which she might have to tell Officer Piper about Vic’s situation.

  “If he asked me directly, I’m not going to lie to him,” she said. “That might get me in deeper water than I’m already in as a murder suspect. And get you in deeper trouble too, if he figures you have something to hide.”

  “You can’t tell him.”

  “If he asks me something… that leads to me having to tell him about you or else lie, then I will ask him to talk to you about it. That’s the most I can do. Let you decide what you want to say. But if I tell him to talk to you about it… you’re going to have to tell him.”

  “Yeah, I know. But you won’t bring it up?”

  “No. Why would I?”

  “Because you would be a lot better off if he put me in jail. We’re his two best suspects, so it’s better for you if he picks me.”

  “I’m not throwing you to the wolves, Vic.” Erin held Vic’s gaze. “I’m not that ki
nd of person. I’m not going to do that to you.”

  “Okay.” Vic breathed out. “You’re crazy not to. But okay.”

  #

  Morning came too quickly. Erin and Vic were at the bakery before dawn to get the day’s baking done and rearrange the products in the display case. Erin discovered that Vic had beautiful penmanship and had her write up the labels and the changes to the chalk board.

  Officer Piper showed up partway through the morning, after the rush when things had quieted down. He had a cup of coffee and K9 stood alertly at his side, nose quivering as he took in all the scents of the bakery.

  “What can I get for you today?” Erin asked, as if he were in there every day and it wasn’t startling or worrisome for him to just show up out of the blue.

  “Well… what’s good? What would you recommend?”

  “It’s all good. Some people are worried that it’s going to taste really weird, have a bad texture or an aftertaste. But it doesn’t. It’s all pretty much like you would expect baking made with wheat flour to taste like.”

  Piper nodded, but looked doubtful.

  “I’ve heard that gluten can be bad for some dogs,” Erin offered. “Maybe I should carry a few doggie biscuits too. Do you think K9 would like that?”

  The dog looked at her, ears pricking up at his name.

  “Are you trying to bribe an officer of the law?” Piper asked, his face and voice serious. But she could see by the beginnings of the dimple in his cheek and the sparkle in his eye that he was teasing.

  “No, I would never do that!” Erin declared, drawing out her vowels and forcing her eyes wide open. Then she fluttered her lashes at him.

  She became aware that her heart was racing. Not because she was anxious about him showing up there, but because she was enjoying the attention of the handsome officer. Disconcerted, she looked over the display case to see what product she should be trying to move. But even looking away from him, she was still aware of him. The scent of his aftershave tickled her nose.

 

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