Faith flopped down on one of the comfy chairs. Laura’s apartment was almost a carbon copy of Faith’s, only Laura had taken it upon herself to inject some dazzle into the place by painting one of the walls a shockingly bright shade of mulberry. “You can’t have favorites!” Faith protested. “What about Nimbus?”
Laura grinned back at her, taking Cirrus up into her arms. “I said my favorite playful kitty. Nimbus is my favorite cuddly kitty.”
“Oh,” Faith said, yawning. She hadn’t realized how tired she was until she’d slumped in the chair.
“No, no, no, missy,” Laura said. She came over and used her free hand to pull Faith up off the couch. “You can’t fall asleep on me before this pizza comes.” She hurried over to the stereo. “Let’s see how these kitties like Whitney.” Then she turned up the music slowly, checking to see if Cirrus and Nimbus were all right. Cirrus was still curled up in her arms, surprisingly, so she took that as a good sign. She kept on turning it up until Whitney was on nearly full blast, then flicked the track back to the beginning.
Then she began dancing with Cirrus in her arms, rocking him this way and that and singing. Cirrus leapt out of her arms, being the boisterous boy that he was, but Laura wasn’t perturbed. She rummaged in a drawer and said, “Aha!” as she drew out a shoelace. Then she dangled it in front of Cirrus, just a little too high for him to reach, and he began to stretch up on his back legs, lifting his paws up to try and snatch it. Nimbus took notice and padded over to see what was going on. Faith began to laugh – it really looked like Cirrus was doing some crazy dance to the 80s music.
“Go on, Nimbus,” she encouraged him, but her voice got lost in the beat.
Then she saw another lace trailing out of the drawer and took it up. Soon they were all four of them dancing around the kitchen, Cirrus and Nimbus jumping up to try and catch the laces, Laura singing and giggling until she couldn’t catch her breath, and Faith feeling like perhaps everything in the world wasn’t all bad after all.
*****
Chapter 12
Faith drank in the atmosphere of their brand new Slice of Paradise as she sat at one of the newly-painted tables, hand sewing the floral material she’d brought with her from Minnesota into special cotton napkins.
“Every single thing has to be… I don’t know exactly the word,” she’d said to Laura, “but everything has to have care put into it. So when people come here, everything they use is beautiful, everything was considered. Everything deliberate, so they feel really… cared for, I guess.” That had always been a big thing for her. Even when making gluten free vegan cupcakes for her mom, she’d always taken the time to make perfect frosting peaks and stick tiny little edible stars or other decorations on. Then she’d pick one of her favorite patterned plates to serve them on. She’d nodded firmly at Laura – it was something she felt really strong about. “Attention to detail really shows people you care.”
Paradise Point had only been closed for a day, but Faith had missed it sorely. She didn’t realize quite how much until she was sitting, needle in hand, at a window seat, feeling the tropical breeze dance between the open shutters and onto her skin. It was a very hot day, the sky that deep deep blue that let everyone know it was going to be lovely all day, but with her billowing yellow sundress and the breeze to keep her cool, she was quite comfortable.
Lula was out on her knees with goggles and power tools, finishing off the veranda framing. Laura had just popped a new cake in the oven and had changed into scruffy overalls to head out and paint some termite protection onto the underside of the porch. That needed to be done fast, as it was easier to do before Lula would put the actual veranda floor down. Nathan was kneeling among the tropical bushes he’d planted, spreading gravel with his palms around the roots. Faith just loved that sound.
Faith almost felt a real sense of contentment, like a warm glow was surrounding her. But she couldn’t keep anxious thoughts out of her mind. She kept replaying what Deputy Valdez had said over and over in her head. Would she really be accused? And why had there been a half-eaten cherry on one of the cupcakes she’d taken over, anyways? She rarely ever used cherries, and when she did it was only for bakewell tarts.
That was another English dessert her mom had introduced her to, one of her favorites, in fact. It was quite an intricate recipe, with a shortcrust pastry shell topped with layers of cherry jam, frangipane – which she always made from scratch by mixing almond paste with butter and sugar and eggs – and almond-infused fondant. A single glacé cherry sat on the top, pushed into the sweet, creamy fondant. Apart from in that recipe, the taste of cherries wasn’t as subtle as the flavors she usually opted for.
As soon as she began thinking about cherries and the case, her pulse started to race and her breath shortened. She got up, taking a deep breath out of her mouth. Then she stepped out onto the veranda frame, balancing on one of the strips of wood like she was a kid on a jungle gym.
“Careful,” Lula said, looking up at her with a grin. “I don’t want you to sue me.”
Faith laughed, glad for a bit of light humor, though her stomach still clenched with nerves. She tried not to notice it. “Ooh, yeah, great idea! I’ll use my huge payout to turn this into my private beach house and boot you all out. No more baking for me. No siree.”
Nathan got to his feet on the gravel, running his hand along one of the palms he’d just transplanted. It really did look awesome, almost up to his waist. He’d assured Faith it would grow up to ten feet, if she wanted to give the place a secluded nature vibe. “Aha, so that’s her plan. Nice to know we’re all just being used.” His dark eyes sparkled and his half-smile made Faith feel nervous and exhilarated all at once. But it was just the anxiety, she told herself. Nothing more.
“Yeah, yeah,” she said to him, smiling and rolling her eyes. Then she hopped off the veranda, sewing in hand, and made a little run out toward the path where people would see Slice of Paradise for the first time as they made their way through the park. It really was looking beautiful, like a little idyll tucked away in the middle of blooming nature.
But as she was standing there looking at it, a sense of panic gripped her. This, her dream, could all be snatched away from her in an instant. All it would take was the Deputy or the Sheriff to suspect her. She’d be hauled in, her name splashed all over the Florida papers. Even if she was found innocent, would Ellis still let her work there, tarnishing the reputation of Paradise Point? Would anyone even come to the tearoom, or would they pass by to go to the pancake place or Josiah’s juice joint, whispering about poisoned cupcakes and evil intentions?
All this rushed at her in an overwhelming blast, like a huge gust of cold air rushing into her face. And somehow it made her mind up for her. “I’m going to find out who did it,” she said, without even meaning to. She gulped, but the words just felt right. “I’m going to find out who killed Joanne.”
Everyone turned and stared.
“Good idea,” Nathan said, finally breaking the silence.
Laura looked back at her, concerned, then put down her paintbrush and began to walk over, picking her way through the tropical plants. “Honey, I know this is super hard right now, but you’ll be fine, I swear.” She put her arm around Faith. “Tyler’s going to—”
Faith had a tight knot in her stomach. She pulled away. “Tyler’s going to what? He might be Tyler to you, but he’s Deputy Sheriff to me, and he said I’m the number one suspect.”
“What?” Nathan said, his brow screwing up. “That’s crazy. I should go down there and—”
Laura grabbed his arm. “You’re not going anywhere.” She then looked at Faith, her eyes locked onto her, calm but firm. “Look, I know because of the cupcake argument everyone’s going to be looking at you, but soon they’ll—”
“Soon I’ll get arrested,” Faith said, making sure to take the deepest breaths possible to make sure she didn’t have another panic attack. Nathan’s kind look was the only thing holding her right then. “You don’t unde
rstand, Laura! He’s nice to you because he likes you, but otherwise, he’s kind of… well, he thinks I did it, put it that way.”
It was when Laura didn’t even blink at Valdez liking her that Faith knew she was a true friend. “He’s got the investigation under control,” Laura said. “You have all this to focus on.” She waved at Slice of Paradise and its gardens. “Plus, what do you really know about investigating?”
“Nothing,” Faith admitted, beyond watching a couple of CSI Miami episodes and reluctantly editing a true crime mystery manuscript when she’d tried to join in her mother’s freelance business. “But that doesn’t matter. I have to clear my name. I can’t trust the Deputy to do that for me.”
“Yes, you can,” Laura said.
Faith crossed her arms and shook her head. Once she’d made her mind up, that was it. “No, I can’t.”
“You’re being ridiculous,” Laura suddenly blurted out. “Everyone knows you didn’t kill Joanne. In fact, you starting to poke around and find out who did it, people might think you’re only doing that to throw the attention off of yourself.”
“I don’t care,” Faith said. “I’m doing it.”
Nathan nodded. “I’ll help.”
Laura turned to him in disbelief. “What? You can’t actually think this is a good idea?”
“I wouldn’t trust that Deputy Valdez as far as I could throw him,” Nathan said. “And I don’t think you would either, if your crush wasn’t clouding your judgment.”
Laura’s face flushed red. “I do not have a crush on him! Well, maybe I like him just a bit. But even if I didn’t, I still wouldn’t agree with this hair-brained idea. We should just do our job and let them do theirs. It’s just going to end in disaster otherwise.”
Faith felt a sinking feeling in her gut. She’d have thought Laura would have grinned and said, “I’m in! Let’s do this!” But Faith held her head up high, knowing that she needed to do what she needed to do. “I’m doing it, Laura,” Faith said. “No matter what anyone says.”
Nathan nodded and spoke passionately. “Me too.”
“Fine,” Laura said, her voice quivering. She looked at Nathan. “You say my judgment’s clouded by having a crush? What about you, huh? You’re probably just…” Then she turned back toward Slice of Paradise and burst into tears. When Faith tried to follow her, calling her name gently and grabbing on her arm, Laura pushed her away and said, “Leave me alone!” her words coming out muffled with crying.
“Laura!” Faith called out again desperately. If there was one thing she hated, it was fighting with friends or family. She got this uneasy feeling in her gut, a deep twisting, or a buzzing anxiety sometimes, and she just couldn’t relax until it was all fixed and everyone was on good terms again.
“Leave it,” Nathan advised. “Once she’s done crying, she’ll see sense. Trust me.”
Faith watched her as she made light running steps over the veranda frame and disappeared into the tearoom. Her own eyes felt hot, and she had to swallow and look away and remind herself why this was so important. She turned to Nathan, biting her bottom lip. “I really don’t trust the Deputy,” she said. “He’s very… I don’t know.”
“Cold,” Nathan said, then pushed up his lip in disapproval. “Surgical, almost. Like he’s not even dealing with people. Like it’s all some mathematical equation or something.”
“Exactly,” Faith said, so relieved he could see it from her point of view. “I just don’t get how people can be that way.”
Nathan shrugged. “Me either. But don’t worry. I know we can fix this.” He flashed Faith an encouraging smile.
She tried to return it, but she couldn’t help imagine Laura draped over one of the tables, crying her heart out. She looked toward the tearoom, clutching a bit of her yellow sundress and twirling it over and over in her hand. “I hope she’s all right. I didn’t mean to upset her, it’s just—”
“Hey,” he said gently. “You don’t have to justify yourself to me. You’re doing the right thing. And don’t worry about Laura too much. Really, she does cry over everything. I think just as soon as she gets a little bit stressed, it’s like boom, the switch has been flicked and the waterworks start. She’ll be over here in five minutes, coming over and telling us she wants to join in. Trust me.”
Faith sighed. “I sure hope so. I’ll just go check how she is.”
“I wouldn’t,” Nathan advised. “You might make it worse.”
Faith was already weaving her way through the tropical plants and past Lula, who was studiously ignoring them as she continued to fix the veranda. “I have to check up on her.”
“Faith!” a sharp female voice called out.
Faith had just been about to step up onto the porch framing. She whipped around, her heart beating, ready to see a woman in uniform, ready to haul her in. But it was someone else.
“Grandma Bessie!” Faith said, beaming at first, but then concerned to see that Grandma Bessie was in a wheelchair. A plump woman who looked to be in her 60s, with a kind face and no fashion sense whatsoever, hovered behind the wheelchair, looking nervous. Faith ran over, almost tripping over her feet in her haste to get over to her grandma. “How are you? I heard you fell.”
The other woman began to speak. “Yes, she did, but—”
“I can speak for myself, Viola!” Grandma Bessie snapped, turning and batting the woman’s hand off of the wheelchair handle.
“Grandma, are you okay?” Faith pressed. “I was going to come see you after work.”
“Don’t fuss, Faith,” Grandma Bessie grumbled, but as she looked up into Faith’s concerned face her tone softened. “You needn’t worry so about me, silly girl.”
“Will you always need to be in a wheelchair?”
“No, no, definitely not.”
Faith then felt rude, and looked up at the other lady. “Viola, right?” she said, feeling foolish since it was so obvious, but not knowing quite else what to say. “I’m Faith, Bessie’s granddaughter.”
“Nice to meet you, Faith,” Viola said kindly, and gave her a soft warm hand to shake. “Your grandma’s been telling me all about her tearoom and how long she’s had it. It’s a great thing you’re interested, too. Keep it in the family.”
Faith nodded, feeling nervous. Sure, they were keeping it in the family. But would Grandma Bessie even approve?
Grandma Bessie was casting her eyes over the new tearoom and its environs. “Hmm,” she said. “Different.”
Faith felt butterflies dancing in her stomach. “…good different? Or bad different?”
*****
Chapter 13
Grandma Bessie had always been slow to smile and slow to laugh. It wasn’t necessarily that she was bad tempered, more that she was quite difficult to please, and given to a more serious disposition. But as she looked over the newly designed tearoom and the tropical plants that bloomed out front, she actually broke into a smile.
“Not bad, kiddo,” she said to Faith. “Not bad at all.”
Faith let out a happy sigh. “Oh, I’m so glad you like it.”
“I can’t say I was thrilled about you changing the name,” Grandma Bessie grumbled. “I know these days people want all these new fangled…” Her eyes landed on Nathan, who had gone to tend some of the plants over on the far side by the veranda. “And who’s this handsome young lad, then?”
“Grandma!” Faith said, feeling her insides flush warm. “That’s just Nathan, Laura’s cousin. He’s done all these plants out front.”
Grandma Bessie nodded approvingly. “Come on, Viola, wheel me around. Let me see what this young boy’s been up to.” Viola followed her orders, and soon Grandma Bessie was moving between the palms and tropical flowers with an imperious grace, like an elderly royal on a state visit. “Where is Laura, anyway? Inside cleaning, no doubt.”
Faith felt all her happiness fade away. “Crying, actually.”
“Oh.” Grandma Bessie’s face went all serious again. She pursed her lips and avoided eye co
ntact. “About Joanne, I don’t doubt?”
“Sort of,” Faith said.
“You mustn’t let it distract you,” Grandma Bessie said. “It’s a terrible tragedy, but she was obviously not quite… well, you know, she—”
“It was a murder.” Faith was so sick of telling everyone. Obviously the Sheriff’s Department hadn’t released the full details yet.
Viola gasped. All the color drained out of Grandma Bessie’s face. “Murder?”
“Yes,” Faith said. She decided not to launch into the rest of it, or she’d end up a quivering mess with shaking hands and potentially a full blown panic attack. “But we’re letting the Sheriff and Deputy do their jobs, and focusing on getting the tearoom ready for the big opening.”
“Murder,” Grandma Bessie said, staring into space and shaking her head. “Now, who on earth would want to do such a thing?”
“I don’t know,” Faith said testily. “Can’t we talk about something else? It’s all I’ve been hearing about all day.” More like thinking about. She just couldn’t get it off her mind. “Why don’t you come in and see how good Laura’s doing at baking cakes now? She just put an awesome double chocolate cake in the oven, so that won’t be ready yet, but she’s been baking up a storm.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” Grandma Bessie said flatly, then looked up to where Lula was fixing the veranda. “Only there’s no way I’m getting up there.”
Faith could have kicked herself. “Oh, gosh. I forgot all about wheelchair access! How stupid of me.”
Lula, overhearing, said, “Don’t worry, that’s easily fixed. I can whip up a ramp in less than a day, no problem.” She then gave an awkward wave at Grandma and Viola. “Hello, Miss Bessie. Hello, there.”
Faith hurried to make the introductions, then Grandma Bessie gave a cheery wave. “Hello, dear,” she said, then whispered to Faith, “And just how are you paying all these people?”
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