by Lynn Cahoon
“I’m sorry I said you were gone. I should have lied and said I saw you in the kitchen.” Christina looked like a puppy who’d been beaten for chewing a hole in the carpet.
“You told the truth. I’d gone for a walk. If you’d lied, they would have found out.” Mia pulled Christina into a hug. “We’ll get through this. Honesty is always the right path.”
Mia felt Christina’s body stiffen under her hug. Maybe she had pushed her too far with the touch. She had a large personal space bubble, especially since her return from Vegas. Not for the first time, Mia wondered what really had happened to send this happy young woman running home and away from her dream of dancing. Mia stepped away, and after seeing the tears flowing off Christina’s face, she pulled out a tissue from her purse. “No tears. Seriously, we’ll get through this. They can’t charge me for something I didn’t do.”
The two walked out of the hotel and headed to Mia’s van. When Mia clicked the doors open she heard Christina mutter, “The cops can do anything they want. They never listen to the truth.”
CHAPTER 4
Grans swung open the big wooden door as soon as Mia and Christina started up the walkway. Mia wondered who’d called to let her know they were on their way; probably James. Caring for the town and its residents seemed to be as important to James as feeding their bodies. The guy was all heart. Maybe that was why he’d relocated to a small town where his culinary talents would be overlooked. She was convinced the guy could be head chef at any of the swank California stops, if not running his own restaurant. Stop analyzing; people find joy in different things, she reminded herself.
“Get in here, the snow’s about to start again,” Grans called from the doorway. “I don’t know what Mark Baldwin was thinking, keeping you all over at the Lodge for so long. It’s not like either one of you killed poor Adele.”
Mia paused in the entryway and sat on the wooden bench she’d bought from a local craftsman. She pulled off her snow boots and parka, uncoiling the cable-knit scarf Grans had given her for Christmas. She slipped on ballet slippers she kept in a basket by the door. Finally free of her outdoor gear, she pulled her grandmother into a hug. “I’m so, so sorry about Adele. I know you loved her.”
Mia could hear Grans sniff. She let the hug continue until she felt her grandmother’s squeeze and then stood back.
Grans wiped at her eyes with a tissue she pulled out of a sweater pocket. “Adele was my best friend for over sixty years. I know she could be difficult, and most people only saw that side of her. But she never turned her back on me, no matter what mistakes I made, including stealing her date one night after the apple festival.” Grans smiled. “When I dumped him the next week we both realized he wasn’t worth the fight.”
Christina had slipped off her coat and shoes and stood next to her and Grans. “I’m sorry about your friend.”
“Thank you, Christina. I’ve got lunch ready upstairs in the kitchen. The church is holding a gathering later this evening for those wanting to express their condolences. I guess I’m the closest thing Adele had to family.”
They started to walk up to the kitchen. Mia stopped. “There’s a nephew.”
“What are you talking about?” Grans paused on the stairs. “Adele didn’t have family.”
“But she did. When the two of you stopped by yesterday morning she said her nephew, Will or Bill, was coming to the party with a guest.” Mia looked at her grandmother. “You didn’t hear her?”
“I must have been in a zone, dear. In all the years I knew Adele, she never once told me about a nephew. Her only sister died in the eighties, somewhere around the same time that space rocket blew up.”
“You mean Challenger?” Mia asked as the three women continued their walk up the second flight of stairs.
“That was the one. Adele refused to fly to Arizona for the funeral because she didn’t trust airplanes after that. She wanted me to drive there with her. Could you see the two of us driving that far? I told her she should just buck it up and take the plane.” Grans paused at the top of the stairs, her breathing labored.
“Are you okay?” Mia lowered her voice. No need to upset Christina even more. She looked positively scared to death. Growing up, Christina’s family had kept the baby of the family pretty sheltered. This was probably the first time she’d known someone who died. Or at least was murdered with a knife. Not for the first time, she wondered what Baldwin had said to her. She’d have to ask Trent how graphic the cop got during Christina’s interview.
“Too many trips up and down these stairs this morning. I know you love your new home, but now you know why I love my ranch. I did stairs as a kid. Your great-grandmother’s house was a two-story with all the kids’ bedrooms stuck at the top. My brother claimed the attic. Even then, I would rather have slept on the ground floor.” They walked into the apartment and the smell of fresh-baked bread surrounded them. “I made a potato and sausage cream soup to go with the bread.”
Mia’s stomach growled and she realized she hadn’t eaten since the half of a muffin before Fredrick found Adele. In the next moment her throat constricted. Poor Adele.
The trio headed to the kitchen, where Grans ladled soup into bowls and Mia cut the fresh bread. They ate in silence, each one lost in their own thoughts. As soon as Christina had finished, she stood, took her bowl to the sink, and turned to Mia. “Can I go to my room?”
Mia nodded. “You don’t have to ask; you’re a grown woman.”
Christina offered a weak smile. “Old habits. But I did want to make sure you didn’t need me for something. I mean, we were supposed to be catering a dinner.”
“Go get some rest. I’d like you to come with us to the gathering tonight.” Mia offered a warmer smile to the young girl.
“Sure, whatever.” Christina left the kitchen after giving Grans a quick buss on the cheek.
As soon as she’d left, Mia felt the call from her kitchen witch, Gloria. The doll’s power surrounded her, and Mia felt the tendrils of power easing her grief and pain. Being a kitchen witch had its advantages, especially when you were troubled. Your familiar knew how to make your emotions settle. Kitchen witches had been healers from the early days, using herbs and spells to ease the pain of their neighbors. Until the season when the crops died from lack of rain; then, if the woman didn’t disappear, her formerly thankful neighbors would turn and blame nature’s flaws on her. No wonder the coven had gone underground, become a secret passed from generation to generation.
“She’s worried about you.” Grans smiled as she watched the healing. “Gloria doesn’t like to see you upset.”
Mia stretched, letting the tension flow away from her body. “Thanks, Gloria.” Then she opened her eyes and let her mind wander. The power in the room dissipated and the little rag doll on the windowsill became just a doll again.
After Gloria’s healing, Mia sat thinking, her soup cooling in the bowl, forgotten. This event should have been the announcement for the new business. Now, not only did she have thirty squab sitting frozen in her freezer, she’d also have thirty porterhouse steaks waiting for a party that wouldn’t happen. An idea began to form. She looked at her grandmother.
“What time is the reception at the church?”
“Six thirty, but I wouldn’t call it a reception. Most of the town will be there, paying their respects to Adele, I guess. Maybe I’ll get to meet this nephew of hers.” Grans looked at her, curious. “Why?”
“I have a lot of food that’s going to go to waste because of the party. Why don’t we cater some appetizers for the gathering? We could cook here and then drive everything over to the church by six.” Mia smiled. “It’s the least we can do for Adele. Besides, I’m charging her estate for the food.”
Her grandmother shook her head, laughing. “Sometimes you need to just stop talking when you’re ahead.”
“I didn’t mean to make light of the situation, but there’s always food at wakes, right?” Mia looked at her grandmother. Cooking would help her fee
l needed and just a bit less lonely.
“I think it’s a grand idea. Give James a call and have him deliver all that prep over here. We’ll have to work on adjusting your menu from a sit-down dinner to appetizers, but Adele would love the fact that we weren’t wasting the food. The woman had a touch of the miser in her.”
“You call James, I’ll go get Christina. I guess she was right, we do need her.” Mia kissed her grandmother on the head as she left the room.
As Mia walked up to Christina’s door, she could hear the girl’s muffled voice. Mia knocked on the door before she opened it a crack. Christina sat on the bed, her cell held to her ear. When she saw Mia, she flushed.
“I gotta go,” Christina muttered into the phone and, without waiting for a response, hung up.
“You didn’t need to end your conversation.” Mia stepped into the guest room, which had become Christina central. She’d put up posters all over the wall—musicals, old and new. Mia wondered if Magic Springs still had the summer theater, maybe if Christina was still here in June? She shook her head: unlikely.
“That’s okay.” Christina bounced off the bed, her blond hair flying around her. “What’s up?”
“Grans and I are doing appetizers for the gathering tonight. You want to help?”
Christina’s eyes brightened. “Sure. Just let me get changed. I’ll be right there.”
Mia stepped out of the room and paused. Had Christina been talking to Isaac? Was that why she’d hung up so quickly? It’s not all about you, Grans’s voice echoed in her head. But this time Mia wasn’t sure her gut feeling wasn’t spot-on.
Four hours later, they were ready, the food stored either in the oven to stay warm, or in warmer trays, or tucked inside the industrial-size refrigerator Mia had ordered as soon as she’d known she’d won the bidding for the old school. Christina had driven Grans back to her house to change, and when they came back the trio would load up the food and carefully drive to the church.
* * *
James had corralled serving staff from the Lodge for the event. Once they’d arrived at the destination with the food, Mia, Christina, and Grans had been shooed out of the kitchen and into the multipurpose room behind the chapel. Long tables were set up at the sides for coffee, along with whatever food was brought by the visiting guests. In the middle of the room round tables were set, allowing guests to mingle or sit and watch as mourners entered.
Mia leaned over to her grandmother and whispered, “Too bad Adele couldn’t have been here tonight, she would have loved this show.”
Grans swatted her on the arm, but a grin tickled her lips. Grans left them and walked over to the first table and started greeting old friends. Mia stayed back with Christina. She cleaned up well, she had to admit. Mia had loaned her one of the several little black dresses she’d kept on hand for a variety of occasions. Mia walked with her to the coffee table. “I need some caffeine if I’m going to get through an hour of this, much less three.”
Christina laughed, the sound ringing clear over the hushed tones of conversation and the string quartet that played classical music in the corner. She slapped a hand over her mouth, embarrassed. “Sorry.”
Mia rubbed her arm. “Never apologize for real laughter. People take themselves way too seriously most of the time.”
“Yeah, like Isaac?” Christina poured a cup of coffee from the urn and handed it to Mia. “I never knew what you saw in my stupid brother. You were way too good for him.”
“Thanks, I think.” Mia sipped the coffee, appraising her sous chef. “You look amazing in that dress, by the way. I may just have to give it to you.”
Christina blushed. “You don’t have to do that. It’s too much.” She smiled as she ran her hand over the taffeta fabric, clearly in love with the way the dress felt.
“The dress looks like it was made for you. I never quite felt right wearing it, so the poor thing stayed in my closet. You know how some pieces just don’t feel right? You’d be doing me a favor taking it off my hands. That way I can go shopping for a new dress.” Mia pointed to an empty table. “Let’s go sit before all the tables are gone. I don’t know how long I can stand in these heels.”
They wandered over to a table and were soon joined by Grans. She eyed their coffee.
Christina got the hint and stood. “Black?”
“Oh, dear, that would be lovely.” Grans smiled at her until she turned away. “Someday I’ll learn to wear flats to things like this. My dogs are already barking and I’ve only been to half the room.”
“I can’t help you. I wore stilettos myself.” Mia nodded to the last table Grans had visited. The man had looked familiar, but Mia couldn’t place him. “Who were you talking to over there?”
“Oh, that’s Sheriff Cook and his wife, Mary. Nice couple. They’ve lived in the area going on forty years.”
“So they’re new to Magic Springs.” Mia sipped her coffee. James had mentioned that the sheriff had a lot more power in the small community than he should have. Maybe he would find Adele’s killer, getting Mia out from under Baldwin’s suspicious gaze. She took a deep, cleansing breath. She wouldn’t let herself get worked up over something she had no control over. Time for a little sage cleansing when she got home.
“Don’t be snide, Mia, it doesn’t suit you.” Grans nodded to the table over to the left of theirs. “Now, Charity and Randy Graham, they’re new. Just this last year. Another retirement couple. I swear, we’re all going to die of heart failure one day because there won’t be anyone under sixty to drive the ambulance.”
“The town isn’t aging that fast, is it?” Mia frowned. Businesses went under when towns died. Especially without an influx of young families to keep the town growing and healthy.
“Maybe it just seems that way. The new doctor and his wife are your age. He just opened his practice here, focusing on sports medicine, and I guess he gets a lot of referrals from the ski lodges, as well as the golf courses in the summer.” Grans pointed to a distinguished-looking man standing next to a stunning blonde. She focused her gaze on the bar where a woman stood alone, her black dress tight and her heels just a bit too high for a solemn occasion like Adele’s wake “And Angel there is looking for husband number three. Although I don’t know why. The last one left her rich enough to live comfortably anywhere.”
“Too bad I didn’t bring my business cards.” Mia glanced around the room, studying the faces. Her prime target market was either sitting in this room or knew the people sitting in this room.
“I already handled that little problem.”
A stab of fear entered Mia’s thoughts. “Grans, what did you do?”
Christina returned, setting the white china cup in front of Grans. James had brought out the chapel’s good china for the event. No Styrofoam cups for Adele’s wake. “What are you guys talking about?”
Grans took a long sip before she answered. “I asked Fredrick to make sure that when he set up the flowers he left your card on each table. You are basically sponsoring this by providing most of the food.” She glanced at the dessert table, filled with cakes and cookies community members had donated. “Or at least the edible food.”
Christina agreed. “I had a cookie from that table. Totally gross.”
“You two are awful.” Mia reached out and grabbed her business card from the centerpiece. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed it before. Tacky to advertise at a funeral. Or a wake. Or whatever.
“Mary Alice, you must introduce me to your granddaughter.” A woman stood by the table, staring at Mia. Her shocking red hair was obviously a dye job and she wore a tight blue silk dress, the boat-neck collar sporting a too-large strand of pearls.
Grans rolled her eyes before she turned to greet the newcomer. “Oh, Helen, I’m glad you could come tonight. I worried you might still be back East.”
“That was last month. We had to close up the Chicago house. You know you have to keep an eye on the help, otherwise they’ll walk off with everything.” Helen shrugge
d. “Adele taught me that lesson. She said never trust anyone you haven’t completely vetted.”
Grans face paled at the mention of her friend. “She was strong-minded.”
Helen’s hand flew up to her mouth. “Oh, my, I just don’t think sometimes. I’m sorry for your loss. I know the two of you were good friends.”
“Thank you. That means a lot to me.”
Helen patted Grans, looking more like she was dusting off her back than offering a gesture of real condolence. Helen’s face brightened. “I know. I can take Adele’s place in your doubles tennis team. I’m very good, you know. Maybe we can run the charity auction together next month. It will be such fun.”
Mia couldn’t believe the nerve of the woman. Grans’s friend had just died and this woman wanted to take Adele’s spot?
“That won’t be necessary,” Grans’s voice sounded like iron, cold and flat. “But thank you for offering so graciously.”
“You poor dear, you’re in grief and I’m sitting here talking about tennis.” The woman patted Grans’s hand again, then seemed to notice my presence. She shoved a hand near me. “Helen Marcum. I tell you, my husband is desperate for you to open. He says my cooking is atrocious. What can I say? I wasn’t a Betty Crocker, stay-at-home housewife. I had a real job.”
“Nice to know I’ll have at least one customer.” Mia shook the clammy, soft hand.
“Oh, no, dear. You’ll have so many customers you won’t know what hit you. Everyone I’ve talked to loves the idea of not cooking. There’s talk that many of the ladies are giving away their cookware, just to make sure their husbands get the hint.”
Mia couldn’t help it; she grinned.
“I heard you found the body?” Helen’s words removed the grin and caused Mia’s stomach to clench.
Frowning, she shook her head. “No. Where did you hear that?”
“Oh, you know, gossip. Never can trust it.” Helen’s attention was diverted as a woman’s tinkling laugh floated across the room. Her face hardened as she watched a man brush back blond hair from the shoulder of Angel, the woman Grans had pointed out earlier, calling the shapely woman the next trophy wife. “I’d better go rescue Travis. Nice to meet you.”
