by Diane Bator
“Oh yeah. The jalapeno thing.” He grinned. “It would have to be a pretty small jalapeno. Your nose isn’t all that big.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re pretty nosy for a gym rat.”
“Actually, I used to be a private detective up until this morning.”
Christina met his gaze. “What happened this morning?”
“I woke up.”
She shook her head. “Do you change careers every morning when you wake up?”
Leo seemed more somber than he had only minutes before. “No, but I’ve been thinking about making a career change for a while, maybe become a tour guide in Katmandu.”
“Cute. So what stopped you before?”
He stared at the cooling cookies. “Gratitude.”
“Gratitude?” Christina fumbled the ball of dough in her hands. “For what?”
“That, babe, is a long story for some other time.” He jammed his hands in his jacket pockets. “I’d better go. I’m meeting Lucy for tea, then your brother’s tweaking another of my tattoos.”
“What kind of tattoo are you getting?” She tried not to sound too interested.
Leo stood up. “Tell you what. I’ll come by and flash you when it’s done. In the meantime, I’d still like some of those éclairs. Lucy’s kids love them. Actually, so do I, but don’t tell Lucy. She thinks buff guys like me can’t have a sweet tooth.”
“Buff guys like you? Good one.” Unfortunately, Christina could picture his lean, strong body beneath his bulky sweater and jacket. She wanted to ask about Lucy, but the words sounded wrong in her head, like she was jealous rather than curious. She put the pastries in a box she then slid across the counter.
Leo set a bill on the counter. “Good luck with the gingerbread house.”
Christina growled. It wasn’t until he was out of sight before she realized he’d paid with a twenty and she owed him a lot of change. Her curiosity was piqued. Leo Blue was a definite man of mystery. His promise to come by and flash her once his tattoo was done did nothing to calm her restlessness or flash of hormones.
She glanced at the clock and sighed. Hard at work for nearly six hours and still far short of what her mother would have done in that amount of time. She closed her eyes. There was no way she’d ever measure up. Daisy Davidson had always kept a tidy kitchen both in the bakery and at home. Christina surveyed her baking space and frowned. The kitchen in Clancy’s apartment was clean aside from the layer of dust. Of course, things were easy to keep clean when she never used them.
Her stomach growled. She hadn’t even bothered to stop to eat. There was a lone calzone Clancy missed in his sweep of the kitchen for food. She winced. If she ate it, she’d be sick for the entire night. How ironic Packham’s newest bakery lady was gluten intolerant.
She rummaged through the freezer and found the gluten-free calzones she’d experimented with after her mom died. They weren’t great, but they’d do for her lunch. Maybe when she had time one day, she’d experiment with other recipes. There had to be other people in town who’d appreciate gluten-free choices.
What the hell was she thinking? Come New Year’s Day, she’d be long gone.
When Clancy strode through the door around two o’clock, the shop was quiet aside from the hum of the mixer blending the dough for one last batch of gingerbread. He munched his cold calzone and wandered around the bakery. “Why don’t you have any decorations up? Christmas is two weeks away and this place is about as festive as a morgue. Why don’t you have the radio on? They’re playing Christmas songs every day until the big Day.”
“You talked to Leo, didn’t you?” Christina clenched her jaw and glanced up from squirting icing onto gingerbread men. “I haven’t had time for decorations. I’m busy baking and trying to keep Mom’s customers happy while my counter person seems to have vanished.”
His eyebrows rose and his voice lowered. “They’re your customers now, Sis.”
She clutched the piping bag, swallowed hard, and blinked back hot tears. The rapid beat of her heart made her body vibrate so much she spurted icing onto the counter and missed every cookie. She dropped the piping bag onto the table and stormed across the room.
Christina pounded a fist against the wall on her way to the front counter. “I know she’s gone. I should’ve left town right after the funeral. Dad convinced me to stick around and help out until the New Year, but I don’t see him here now, do you? I’m stuck flying solo doing a job I hate for a woman who’s already dead and buried and a man who doesn’t give a damn and probably never did.”
“You did the right thing, Chrissie.” Clancy followed her around the counter. “You know Dad went to Florida to tie up loose ends. He doesn’t want the house there anymore since it reminds him of her.”
She scowled. “He’s selling the beach house because she loved it. He hated going to Florida and complained every time they went. The only time Mom was happy was when she was either on the beach or in the bakery, but that never mattered. As far as he’s concerned, the whole world revolves around his needs and wants, no one else’s.”
The front door opened and the sound of chimes rang through the bakery. An elderly woman with a walker decorated with twinkling white Christmas lights came through the door. Another regular, she wore a long red velvet gown and a dark fur coat. “Merry Christmas, darlings.”
Christina shoved her anger into the pit of her stomach and nudged her brother away. “Can I help you?”
“Oh, dear. I don’t see any of your fabulous cream puffs,” the woman said.
“I have some cooling. I just have to frost and fill them.” Christina forced a small smile. “They should be ready in about fifteen minutes.”
Clancy coughed and walked to the front of the counter. “How many do you need, Mrs. Lexington? She’ll have them ready in a few minutes. Is there anything else you’d like today?”
Christina looked again. She hadn’t even recognized Mimsy Lexington, local kook and one of the bakery’s richest and most loyal customers. She closed her eyes and sighed.
Mimsy narrowed her eyes. “Why you’re the tattoo man, aren’t you? I talked to you about a book I was writing. What are you doing cavorting with the bakery girl?”
“I’m her brother,” Clancy said. “Daisy was our mom.”
Her face fell. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I do see the resemblance.” Mimsy studied their faces then took a step toward him. “You’re a handsome young man, aren’t you? Are you single or married?”
Christina laughed as Mimsy leaned forward on her walker to check her brother out. “Are you hitting on him? Seriously?”
He took a step back and winced. “You remember Mrs. Lexington, don’t you? She’s a friend of Mom and Dad’s.”
Mimsy extended a blue veined hand. “Oh, of course. You’re the rogue daughter who ran off and left Daisy and Mel alone with the bakery. I was so sad when you left. You used to make the most divine sugar cookies.”
“I did?” Christina took a step back. Mimsy couldn’t remember Clancy and Christina were siblings, yet she remembered the sugar cookies.
“Yes, don’t you remember? After you left, your mother used your recipe. She came close, but never quite had the knack you did.” Mimsy came closer, her eyes bright. “Christina, that’s your name. You were named after my mother who was quite the little spitfire in her day. Your mom adored her. You used to make dozens of cookies for my Christmas soirees when you were in high school. Decorated to perfection only to be eaten by savages.”
Clancy draped an arm around his sister’s shoulders and eased past her. “Nobody in town makes sugar cookies better.”
Christina’s eyes filled with tears. She hadn’t been so emotional in ages. Must be hormones. “Why don’t you take a seat? Clancy can get you a cup of tea or coffee while I finish filling the cream puffs.”
Clancy’s eyes widened. “No, I can’t. I have—”
“Yes, you can.” Christina filled and frosted a dozen cream puffs and packaged a small box of sugar
cookies while she reminisced.
Mimsy’s soirees were the highlight of the Christmas party season. The Lexington mansion would be decorated from eaves to basement with white lights. Trees glowed and tinkle with metal icicles made by a local artist. Christina and her family were invited every year, but they’d only ever been to one. Her mom brought her and Clancy one year since Mel couldn’t stand all the frivolity. They’d missed out on a lot of events. The bakery was the one place he’d left them all alone. He hated the mess and the people coming in to visit. Was that why her mother had worked so much?
Christina closed her eyes and sighed. Reality stunk. She should go back to Newville while she had the chance before she got stuck in her mom’s shoes for good. Then she reconsidered. There wasn’t much left there anymore either.
When she returned to the store front, Clancy and Mimsy were deep in conversation. Mimsy had removed her furry hat to reveal a glittering tiara on the top of her head. What kind of person walked around town wearing a sparkling tiara and used a walker decorated with blinking, battery-powered Christmas lights? While Mimsy Lexington was old and batty back when Christina knew her, she appeared to have become crazier in the past few years.
“Is there anything else for you today, Mrs. Lexington?” Christina rang in the purchase.
“Darling, please call me Mimsy.” She allowed Clancy to help her to her feet. “Everyone else in town does.”
“Mimsy.” Her mouth twitched into a small smile. “Sorry.”
“The people at my writing meeting this evening will love these.” Mimsy’s smile faded. “Oh, darling, you made me two boxes? I only wanted one dozen.”
“Sugar cookies.” Christina bowed her head. “For old time’s sake.”
“Oh, you are a gem!” Mimsy clapped her hands together. “I’ll be sure to tell everyone where they came from and you’ll be busy from now until Christmas.”
Once Mimsy was gone, Clancy leaned on the display case and gawked. “Well, that was uncharacteristically nice of you. What gives?”
She shrugged. “Like you said, it’s Christmas. Good will towards man and all that crap.”
“I should tattoo that on your forehead, including the crap part.”
Christina placed her fists on her hips. “Don’t you have any customers?”
“Yes, I do. One of your favorite guys.” He grinned. “Leo Blue.”
Christina’s heart leaped and her step faltered. She hoped Clancy hadn’t noticed. “Since when is Leo my favorite guy?”
“Since he got your name tattooed on his bicep.” He winked.
She narrowed her eyes. “He did not. He hardly even knows me. Besides, Leo doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to tattoo anyone’s name on his bicep. A snake or a hula girl maybe, but not anyone’s name.”
“You can ask him yourself. We’ll come by later so he can show it off.”
He had to be joking. Leo didn’t come across as the kind of guy who’d hand his heart to anyone except maybe science. And even that would be a fight.
Her cell phone rang as she locked the front door. She didn’t remember turning it on and hesitated, not wanting to answer. Maybe it was really Gage who’d decided to take her back and would explain why some woman had called using his phone. Curiosity consumed her and she pulled her phone from her pocket. “Gage?”
“Wait, don’t hang up,” the same woman who’d called earlier said. “I’m Detective Beverly Wallis with the Newville Police. I found your name in his phone listed as Rosie and I need to ask you some questions. Were you a friend of D.J. Gage?”
“I modeled for him.” Her entire body lurched. Something was definitely wrong. “What do you mean ‘were’? What’s happened to him? Was he in an accident or something?”
Detective Wallis’s voice softened. “Perhaps you can come to the station and we can talk.”
“I can’t.” Her shoulder’s sagged. Come in to talk to a police detective about Gage? What was going on? “I’m not in Newville. I’m in Packham.”
“May I ask what you’re doing there?” Detective Wallis asked.
Christina didn’t want to answer, but what could it hurt? She blinked back tears. “I’m looking after my family’s bakery. My mom had cancer. She died in September.”
Detective Wallis extended her condolences. “How long have you been out of town?”
“Since a couple days before the funeral.” Her stomach clenched. The stress would send her running for the toilet soon. “Why are you calling me? What’s happened to Gage?”
“Have you talked to Mr. Gage since you left Newville?” Detective Wallis ignored Christina’s questions.
“No. Like I said, I’ve been busy with family matters.” She leaned against the cooler door. “What’s this all about? Is Gage okay?”
“Were you close to him?”
“At one time.” Her voice crackled.
“Do you happen to know a woman named Rose Ryan?”
Christina wiped the flour off her shaking hands. Her heart hammered and knocked the air from her lungs. She’d hoped not to hear the name Rose Ryan ever again. “Why are you asking me about Gage and Rose? What’s going on?”
Detective Wallis let out a sigh. “D.J. Gage was shot and killed two days ago. Apparently, a jealous husband caught up to him. The shooter’s wife is still missing. I’d hoped that since you were obviously close, personal friends with Mr. Gage, maybe you’d know Mrs. Ryan as well.”
The room seemed to spin and she sagged to the floor as her worst nightmare came to life. All the horrible things she’d done and was confident her family would never find out would now be exposed. All the things she’d tried to block from her memory would become real. The truth would tear apart what little family she had left.
“Are you still there?” Detective Wallis spoke softly, like Christina was a young child she’d startle if she raised her voice. “Gage is dead and you’re the one of the few people I haven’t been able to speak to.”
“How did he die?”
“He was shot. We have a suspect in custody, but have to wait for autopsy and lab results.” Detective Wallis didn’t give her much information, which didn’t help make Gage’s death any more real. She paused. “I know who you really are. I think you and I need to talk.”
Christina took a deep breath and leaned against the cooler door. Her stomach sank and tears welled in her eyes. “Yeah, we do. I’m Rose Ryan.”
Chapter 5
Clancy tried to interrogate Leo while he finished the tattoo the next day. Leo brushed him off and steered the conversation back to Clancy’s childhood, as he sought for more information about Christina.
Half an hour into their session, Danny called Leo’s cell phone. “I got some pictures from that gallery. Gage wasn’t the most talented person they’d ever met, but he was shrewd. He made them some lowball offer so they’d agree to show his work. They didn’t like a lot of his stuff, except for a few paintings of a woman that were so stunning there was almost a bidding war among the staff to get them.”
Leo groaned. “They already sold his paintings?”
“No. As soon as the manager heard Gage was murdered, he boxed everything back up and sealed the crate. Since they’re now evidence, he can’t sell them until the police release them and the estate gives approval.” Danny coughed. “I’ll send you the photos I took of the paintings. I agree with the manager, most of them look like a four year old painted them, but there are a couple that are incredible. Almost like another artist painted them.”
Leo nodded. “Send me the files I’ll take a look later. Not that it’ll help, but maybe something will jump out. I’ve checked out whatever he had posted on his website, most of them looked pretty primitive.”
“Wait until you see the latest ones.” Danny chuckled. “I hate to say it, but Lucy’s kids could do better. I’m not sure what made this guy such an attraction.”
When he hung up, Leo realized Clancy was staring. “Sorry. Business.”
“You’re on another case?”
Clancy winced.
“Kind of.” He shifted in the chair. “Danny asked me to look into a murder in Newville. His sister Hannah knew the victim so I promised to check some things out.”
“That’s crazy. How’d you ever get a gig like that?” Clancy bowed his head and resumed filling in more blank areas. “I’d offer my services, but after helping you guys with Lucy’s case, I can’t imagine wanting to dig into stuff like that. I can’t even watch the news anymore and turn off the television. That’s why I like doing this. You talk to people, you hear things, but you can put them out of your head at the gym later.”
Leo nodded. “When I’ve had enough, I go to Tibet or Japan. Somewhere I don’t have to think. I can just train, drink tea, and meditate.”
“Tibet, huh?” Clancy grinned. “You ever ride a yak?”
“Yeah, I broke my arm when the damn thing threw me off.”
He snorted. “Sounds like fun. I’d love to go see more of the world. I’ve kind of stuck around for Mom and Dad. Now that Mom’s gone there’s no reason not to do more travelling.”
Leo’s phone buzzed several times in the next couple minutes. He rolled his eyes and started to turn it off. Most of the texts were from Danny. “Do you have much more to finish?”
“Almost there. I’d prefer to do it in one sitting, but we can reschedule if you have to go.” Clancy hesitated. “I was hoping to talk to you more about Christina.”
Leo’s phone buzzed three more times. Whatever was going on sounded urgent. “Why don’t we meet at The Tipsy Duck tonight and you can fill me in more. I think I need to go check my e-mails. They’re probably images I’m waiting for, but I’m not sure what’s going on.”
Back in his tiny apartment, Leo opened all the files on his laptop and printed off photo after photo of paintings done by the late D.J. Gage. Sure enough, most were colorful and primitive, just as he’d expected with the exception of three paintings.
The last three depicted a young, blonde woman wearing nothing more than a man’s white shirt. In one, she painted in front of a large window, her naked body haloed by the light streaming through the shirt and her face veiled by her long, blonde hair. A second painting was of the same woman in front of a different window, her back to the viewer as she gazed out the window. The third painting showed her seated against a crumbling brick wall, the shirt hanging open revealing as much of her body as it hid. Something about her seemed so familiar.
