Bun for Your Life (10 page)

I nodded, then explained about the kids and the honeymooning couple. “I don't get what's so interesting.”

She looked as puzzled as I felt. “I guess because murder never happens in this area. I'm telling you, people in the bookstore were just fascinated by it. They wanted all kinds of details. As if I would have them. Half of my customers were from out of town. I swear they're jealous because we've had a murder make the national news and their towns haven't!”

I nodded as I stared out the window. “I think, too, because Calista's apple just came out, so she's been in the news anyway. I hate to think Trey would commit murder, but lately I've been thinking, who else? Although Detective Corsino thinks I could have done it because he heard us arguing on the day of the Apple Harvest Fair.”

Emily laughed. “That's ridiculous. He can't think it's you. Speaking of the handsome detective, did you arrange for your date yet?”

I looked out the window and sighed. “No. I guess I'll do that this week. You?”

She grinned. “We're going out this Saturday with Liv and Brandon. We're going to dinner, then bowling. We still want you to join.”

“Thanks, but I'm still not into the bowling thing. Sean doesn't strike me as a bowler, either.”

“Okay, but you're going to miss out on a fun night.”

I laughed. “I'll take my chances. Has Enid been in the bookstore lately? Is she going to continue her talks?”

Emily shook her head. “I haven't heard from her since that day she talked to me when we were outside the bakery. I
saw her at Calista's funeral with her son, but I don't think she talked to anyone. I guess she's still upset about Calista. Enid's not one for socializing, I've learned that much about her. She's lovely, but really quite shy and reserved. Icy, even. I'll give her a call in a few days to see if she's interested in doing any more talks, or maybe a reading group.”

“I saw her there, too. Why did her son look familiar to me? Like I've seen him before?”

“Oh, he's an author, too, but not near as famous as Enid. His name is Chase.”

“Okay, now I know why he looks familiar. Chase Middlebrook. I've read a couple of his mysteries. Yawn!”

Emily nodded. “I agree. He's probably published because Enid's his mother. I don't sell near as many of his books as I do other mystery writers. I guess he must make just enough to support himself.” She got up. “I have to get back to the store. Call me if you change your mind about joining us Saturday.”

I promised her I would. I was looking forward to going home in three hours, taking a nice long hot bubble bath, and starting one of my books from the to-be-read pile on the coffee table.

It was dark when I arrived home and pulled in between Dottie's and Sean's cars. I had just stepped up on the porch and was on my way to the side of the house to go upstairs when I heard Dottie's door open and her screen door squeak.

“Molly! Good evening, dear. I've just baked oatmeal raisin cookies. I'd love some company to share them with.”

I was tired and wanted nothing more than to go upstairs and sink into a nice bath, but I could smell the cookies from where I stood. My stomach urged me toward her front door. You may think since I own a bakery, cookies would be the last thing I'd want, but you'd be wrong. I honestly try not to eat everything, but I bake what I love, and I'm obligated to sample what Olivia and I make. Plus, it's all so delicious. “I'd love some. I won't stay long.”

“Nonsense. Stay as long as you like.”

I followed her inside and she settled me in the living room, where I immediately felt right at home. One wall was completely covered with a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf, which overflowed with books. I loved the hurricane lamps on the end tables on either end of her huge, flowered couch. Her furniture had to be from the sixties or seventies, but it was homey and comfortable; like being at my paternal grandparents' house. It even smelled the same. Dottie had a lovely fire going, and I was afraid if I closed my eyes, I'd fall asleep. It was the perfect room to curl up in with a book in your hand.

“Here you go, dear,” she said when she returned. “I've got plenty more. Don't be shy.”

I took the plate of cookies she offered, along with the glass of milk, feeling about eight years old. “Thank you, Dottie. They smell wonderful.” I took a bite. “They taste even better.” I laughed, then gave her a pretend frown. “Stay away from the bakery with these.”

She smiled. “I've had some of your delicious doughnuts and cupcakes. You've got nothing to worry about. Coming from me, that's a compliment. I'm quite the baker myself, you know.”

“Speaking of baking, how would you like to sell your lemonade iced tea at the bakery? It's the best I've ever had. I bet it would be good hot, too.”

“You liked it, then.”

“I really did. I think it would be a big hit. Think about it.”

“I'll do that. My! I feel so flattered.” She smiled and placed a hand over where her heart was. “My lemonade iced tea for sale in a bakery.”

“It will definitely be popular,” I assured her.

“You just let me know when you want me to bring over a batch. Oh, did you hear they interviewed Blake Ellsworth on the news a little while ago? He's being questioned in Calista's murder.”

I paused, my last cookie in midair. “Blake?” He had been on my list of suspects, too, but I didn't really have a good reason for it. “What did he have to say?”

“I don't know if you've met my other tenant, and can't remember if I mentioned to you he's a detective.”

“You didn't, but yes, we've met.” I didn't tell her he'd been to the bakery to see Olivia and me. “Not to interrupt your story about Blake, but I'm supposed to be going on a date with Detective Corsino—Sean. A couple of my friends and I went to the bachelor auction the library had to raise money.”

“That's right, I saw a poster in the library advertising that. I hope they got enough for their expansion. They could use it. I love books. As you can see.” She waved at her bookshelves and chuckled. “I go to the library all the time, but I could probably open my own library right here. Do you like reading? Your mom probably wouldn't have it any other way.”

I smiled. “You're right about that. I love reading.”

“Me too. It's so exciting that Enid Middlebrook is here in Destiny. I have all her books! You just come on down any time you want to borrow one or more of these.”

“Thanks, Dottie.”

She looked at me, her eyes twinkling. “You bid on the handsome detective, then.”

“Not exactly. My friend did for me. Long story. We still haven't planned our date.”

“Oh, you must tell me all about it after you go. Just think, you two could hit it off and get married. You could get married right here in my living room. Wouldn't that be romantic?”

I managed not to choke on my last piece of cookie. “You started to tell me about Blake Ellsworth.”

Dottie settled back in her chair. “That's right, I did. Thank you for reminding me, dear. Our detective apparently questioned him because he was the last man to date Calista. Of course, he denied having anything to do with her death.”

“I'm not sure it was Blake. What motive would be have?”

“Apparently, his ex-wife had an ax to grind with him. She was more than happy to tell the detective that Blake told her he wanted to add to his collection of classic cars and asked Calista for money. Calista turned him down.”

This was an interesting turn of events. “He killed her because she refused to give him money?”

“It's possible, isn't it? He sounded drunk on the news, if you ask me. Looking for his fifteen minutes of fame. He cursed Calista, calling her the b-word right on live TV, then he cursed his ex-wife. They finally cut the interview. It started out okay, but went downhill quickly.”

“You're kidding! You'd think if Blake was innocent, he'd have acted with a little more decorum. Especially on TV, for heaven's sake. Calling Calista a rude name and cursing his ex-wife may get him more unwanted police attention.”

“I hope they catch whoever it is soon.”

I stood. “Me too. Thanks for the cookies and milk. I'm going to head upstairs. I want to take a nice, long bath.”

Dottie walked me to the door. “You're welcome. Anytime.”

*  *  *

My first interruption came after I had just run the water and poured in my vanilla bean and raspberry bubble bath. I threw
on my pink bathrobe when I heard knocking, then slipped my feet into matching pink slippers.

“Who is it?” I called out.

“It's me.”

Brian! What was he doing here? I unchained and unlocked the door—with a killer wandering around you can't be too careful—and opened it. “Hi, there. This is a surprise. What's up?”

His eyes traveled the length of my bathrobe then looked past my shoulder. “Am I . . . uh . . . interrupting? I tried calling a few times. It kept going to voice mail.”

“Sorry. I really should get into the habit of leaving my phone on now that I've found it. No, I was getting ready to take a bath. I've had a busy, not to mention weird, day. I had kids wanting to have a séance so they could contact Calista's spirit, then a honeymooning couple who . . . You know what? Never mind. Come in. How did you know where to find me?”

“You told me a Victorian on Bradley. Your car's out front.”

“That's true.”

He wandered into the living room and looked around. I followed. “Nice place. I like it. How is it so far?”

I smiled at him. “Love it. Dottie, my landlady, is a sweetheart, and it's got lots of space, as you can see, plus it's nice and sunny. I'm glad I moved. What were you calling about?”

He studied me for a moment as he ran a hand through his hair. “I wanted to tell you this in person. Can we sit?”

“Sure.” I padded behind him to the couch. “What is it? It's not Jane, is it?”

He shook his head. “No. Nothing like that. Lola and I are engaged.”

My first impulse was to burst into tears; somehow, I managed not to. I was out of my most recent I-think-I-love-Brian period, but if he was getting married, that meant I could never have another I-think-I-love-Brian period. He would be totally off-limits. Not that he wasn't off-limits now, but married was a completely different ball game.

“Molly, you okay?” he asked. “I didn't want you to hear this from someone else. Or see our picture in the paper under engagement and wedding announcements. Hey, are you crying?”

“No.” I wiped my eyes on one of my bathrobe sleeves. “I have something in my eye.” I managed a wobbly smile. “Congratulations. I hope you'll have a long life together. And happy. A long and happy life.”

He took my hand. “Thanks. Listen, you and I will always be close. I meant it when I said I loved you. In a different way than I love Lola, of course. She's an awesome woman. I'm so lucky to have found her. I hadn't even planned to ask her to marry me. It was on a whim, you know? We were at the mall, and happened to walk past Hoffman's Jewelry Store, and the next thing I know, we're engaged. I hope you two will become friends. That would make me so happy.”

Brian can be too easygoing sometimes. I hoped Lola hadn't somehow tricked him into becoming engaged. Friends with my ex-husband's new wife? I couldn't see it. “I only want happiness for you.” I stood up.

Brian got up, too, and hugged me. I closed my eyes and laid my head on his shoulder. For the last time ever. That's when I got the second interruption—I heard a tap on the front door.

My eyes flew open and my heart jumped when I realized neither Brian, nor I, had closed it after he came in. How could I have been so careless, and why hadn't I heard footsteps coming up the stairs? “Too busy enjoying the feel of my head on Brian's shoulder” was the answer.

“Ms. Tyler?”

I recognized Detective Corsino's—Sean's—voice and broke away from Brian just as the detective poked his head around the door.

He looked embarrassed when he realized I had company. “I apologize. I'll come back. I tried calling. It went to voice mail, so I thought I'd just come over.”

Brian stared into my eyes a second, and I could tell what he was thinking:
What's he doing here?
He quickly recovered. “Sean! You've got to call me about the boat. Stay, man. I was just leaving.”

“I know, I've been busy. I live in the other apartment here, by the way. I'll come back.”

“No, really. I'm leaving. Stay and talk to her,” Brian insisted. “We're done, Molly, aren't we?”

I nodded. We were done all right. I bit my bottom lip so whatever that thing in my eye was wouldn't start bothering me again. “We're all done. Tell Lola I said best wishes.”

“I will. Sean, call me. Take some time off. It's going to be too cold to be on the boat in another few days.”

“Yeah, you're right. We'll talk soon.”

I admired the way men seem to connect with each other so easily. I guess women do, too, but I don't think I'm one of them. Olivia and Emily are my best friends, and I have friends that I mostly keep in touch with via Facebook, but I'm not a party or crowd kind of woman. I like it best when Olivia, Emily and I do things together.

Sean turned to me after Brian closed the door. “Sorry for barging in. You and Brian good friends, or dating, or . . . ?”

I let his question hang in the air while I took a steadying breath. “He's my ex-husband. We've known each other since kindergarten. I've known all my friends in this town since at least kindergarten. He came by to tell me he and Lola—that's his girlfriend; the woman who was with him at Calista's funeral—are engaged. To be married. Now she's not his girlfriend, she's his fiancée. Because they're getting married.” I was rambling.

He cocked an eyebrow at me. “You're upset by the idea.”

“No. I'm fine with it.”

“You don't look fine.”

“I'm fine.”

“You said you still had feelings for him, so you really aren't okay with it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The day I talked to you and Ms. Williams at the bakery about Calista's homicide. You said, ‘She knew about my divorce, and that I still have feelings for my ex-husband, sometimes.'”

I was getting a headache. I wanted to stop thinking about Brian's engagement and purge myself of any feelings for
him. By now my bathwater was cold. I'd have to start all over. Not to mention that I didn't exactly feel relaxed standing here naked, save my robe, talking to a man I barely knew, detective or not. “How do you remember exactly what I said?”

“It's a gift, blessing, whatever you want to call it. Comes in handy in my line of work.”

I suspected that he hadn't come by only to discuss his blessing, or whatever it was. Seeing that he didn't have a present in his hand, I assumed he wasn't coming over to officially welcome me to the neighborhood. “What can I help you with? Oh, and since you're here, we may as well plan our date before you leave. Where do you want to go?”

He looked surprised at the change of subject for a second. “You know the area. I'll let you pick. Why don't we do it this Saturday and get it over with? Unless you're busy.”

Get it over with? Okay, a size six was still a little snug, I needed a haircut, and I could probably stand to use lip gloss more often, but I'd never sent anyone screaming in horror once they laid eyes on me. What nerve! “I'm not busy. How about Camberas? It's a restaurant on the other side of the lake.”

“Sure. Whatever you want.”

“I'll make reservations for six. Is that okay?”

“Sounds good.”

“Okay. Saturday it is.” I thought maybe Olivia should have picked a different bachelor for me. I know, it wasn't her fault. I should've worked harder to find my own. This guy didn't sound at all happy about the prospect of spending an evening with me.

I picked Camberas because we probably wouldn't run into anyone from town. I didn't feel like being the subject of gossip. Again, the hazards of a small town. You go out with a new man or woman, everyone knows it, and they discuss it ad nauseam. You could end up on the front page of
The Destiny Trumpet
if they lacked more pressing news.

“You came to talk about something else, though, didn't you?” I asked.

“Ms. Tyler, when I talked to you—”

“Not to interrupt you,” I interrupted, “but we're neighbors, and this Saturday we're going on a date. Can you call me Molly? Otherwise, I'm going to have to go back to calling you Detective Corsino, and I don't want to. Unless it's at the police department—then I'll call you Detective to be professional.” I was rambling again, but he patiently waited.