Cold Hollow (Cold Hollow Mysteries Book 1) (8 page)

***

Myrna pulled into Artie Lavoie’s driveway and laid on her horn until the little bastard came scampering over to the driver’s-side door. She shoved the door open, nearly sending him airborne. He skittered backwards, his eyes grew large, and he began trembling. Myrna reached forward and bunched up the collar of his work shirt in her fist. She shook him once, “You idiot!”

She shook him a second time and inched her face closer to his. “Get to the bakery right now and repair your fucking damage! You hear me! Free of charge!”

He raised his arms in surrender and stuttered, “Thu-they made me duh-do it! They gu-gotta make the till! They thought that Sophia would have to come by their farm again and purchase even more than she did the last tuh-time if I ruined the cord to the dairy fridge!”

Myrna shook him for the last time. “I know who
they
are! They are greedy! It won’t be Sophia visiting them today, it will be me!” She inched her nose to his and hissed, “Do you know what I could do to you?”

Artie Lavoie broke out in a cold sweat and bobbed his head. His upper lip twitched left to right. Myrna tossed him to one side, and he tripped and landed in the dirt. He lay there and watched her get in her vehicle. She peeled out of the dirt driveway, sending a cloud of dust into his face. He wiped it clear and slowly got to his feet. From there he went to his barn, grabbed his toolbox, and went to his truck. His head hung low. He should have known better than to listen to the Carlisle sisters. They were greedy bullies and always got him in trouble.

***

Sophia was busy prepping all the dry goods in assorted bowls and preheating the ovens. She did whatever she could ahead of time until Myrna returned. The shop bell rang and she peeked around the doorjamb to see Artie Lavoie come in with a toolbox. He looked at the floor as he entered the kitchen.

He murmured, “Myrna called on me to fix your fridge.” He never looked at Sophia; he bent low to the ground beside the refrigerator and began repairing the cord and plug.

***

Myrna drove at top speed up the Carlisles’ driveway and laid on her horn longer than was necessary. The sisters were outside doing their chores anyway and saw Myrna. Myrna didn’t have to blow the horn, but she wanted to. She was so angry that she could have spit. She leaped from her truck and stormed up to the two women. Sure, they were big and beefy, but Myrna had an advantage and both of the old biddies knew it. Myrna was going to use that advantage today. She put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes, which were flickering from a beautiful sky blue to an angry stormy blue.

Both women stepped back as Myrna began snarling, “Give me two weeks’ supplies for the bakery for the price of one. Don’t try to give me any expired shit either! Remember girls, my nose is better than yours is! I don’t go around with my face in manure all fucking day!”

The women didn’t say a thing. They took another step backward, and Myrna saw Bernadette, the leader, grab her sister’s arm and lead her into the barn. They handed fresh milk, cream, eggs, and cheese to Myrna, who stood there shaking her head. “You fucking load it!”

They headed for the back of the pickup with crates loaded with items, but Myrna was not happy. She made them go back, double the order, and add a gift of apology. They didn’t argue and did as she demanded.

When she was content that restitution had been made and enough items loaded, she jumped inside the truck and unrolled the driver’s-side window. She leaned out the side of it, tossed fifty dollars on the ground, and growled at them. “Don’t fuck with us again or I’ll see to it your livestock are attacked and you go fucking broke!”

The sisters stood and watched her drive away with their mouths agape and eyes wide in panic. Bernadette turned to her sister, swallowed, and said, “The old Myrna’s back!” The two sisters turned and ran all the way to their house in a squealing fit.

***

Sophia met Myrna at the front of the shop and helped her unload the back of her truck. They put the goods away in the repaired refrigerator. Artie Lavoie was sitting at one of the tables sipping a hot cup of coffee. When Myrna passed by him, she tapped the side of his head. “Don’t listen to the Carlisle girls again.”

“I won’t.” His eyes remained downcast. He wanted his cherry-filled turnover and was more than willing to wait for it. Sophia had promised him one and a few to take home in thanks for fixing the fridge.

Once the items had been unloaded, Myrna slid into the chair across from Artie. She looked over her shoulder to see Sophia busy in the kitchen, and leaned forward to face him. “I got a good nose, Artie. Just because you look like a rat, doesn’t mean you have to act like one.”

“But I ain’t quick like I used to be, Myrna. Those two bullies know it too! They threaten me with all kinds of abuse!”

She took his hand and squeezed it. “They threaten you because they’re too chicken to carry out their own twisted plans and you’re an easy mark! Either wear your glasses more or get that laser surgery Doctor Tom told you about. I know you’re ashamed of the glasses, but at least they’ll help you to see better and move quicker without falling. Just stand up to them. If they do anything to you again, you let me know, okay?”

She watched his hand slide into his shirt pocket, and he yanked out his glasses. They were round and black-rimmed. They contained the thickest lenses that Myrna had ever seen. His bulbous eyes blinked at her behind them. “Wow, Myrna you’re really pretty!” Myrna laughed and slapped his arm as she blushed.

She got up from her chair and said, “I’ll go get your turnovers, Artie.”

***

The morning and afternoon crowds hit the bakery, as they had since it opened. The staff of the bakery had fallen into a smooth routine, and the customers were served promptly. Not one complaint was heard—just groans of contentment.

As they cleaned up the place before locking it down, Sophia laid out items for the following morning on the prep station in order to save herself some time. She went to the cash register and emptied it, only leaving enough for opening the following day. She gathered the receipts and jammed them in the bag. While she was taking off her apron, she asked Myrna, “What did you say to the Carlisle sisters to make them give you all of those goods for fifty dollars?”

Myrna’s face turned red as she concentrated on taking off her apron. “God help me, it felt so good, but I dropped enough F-bombs for a lifetime.”

“Why did you swear at them? It wasn’t their fault that the refrigerator was broken.”

Myrna chuckled as she tossed the apron in the hamper. “They’re slick, those two. They love money just as much as Nazar does.”

“You think we were sabotaged?”

“Yes, but it won’t happen again. Also, one of the customers—you know the guy who buys an apple pie each day? Well, he’s a locksmith and says he’ll change out the locks free of charge for you tomorrow morning.”

“Free?”

Myrna nodded. “Yep, he says he hasn’t had an apple pie like the ones you bake since his mother died. He said he’ll do the job for a free pie.”

Sophia laughed and threw her arms up in the air. “My husband could have changed the locks, but that’s a deal I can’t pass up! Gosh, men will do anything for sweets. Artie only wanted four turnovers. I’ve had a good day.”

Myrna smiled and said. “I did too.”

***

As Sophia rounded the corner to begin jogging on the trail, she noticed that a sign had been posted stating the hours that the trails were open. Anyone entering after hours would be considered a trespasser and arrested. Ranger Bullock was obviously flexing his muscles and had reported her presence the previous evening to Nazar the Bizarre.

CHAPTER 7

That weekend, Angus and Sophia loaded up the children in his SUV early in the morning and drove out of town. They were stopped at the town limits by a police officer standing guard at a podium. Angus pulled over and lowered the window. “What’s going on?”

The police officer poked his head inside the vehicle and looked at the four of them. “Where are you going?”

Angus tilted his head at him. “Not that it’s any of your concern, but we’re taking a ride. There’s a new restaurant we want to try out.”

“What time will you be back in town?”

Angus wanted to scream, but he tightened his lips and nearly spat, “We’ll be back when we’re done.”

The police officer stared Angus in the eyes and seemed to back down a bit, but added, “I’m just keeping a running census. It’s a new policy in case of a natural disaster or Taliban attack. We like to have a constant head count. Nazar says it’s for the safety of the townsfolk.”

Angus turned to Sophia, who was biting her lower lip. He then turned back to the cop and he tapped the cop’s little pad with his forefinger. “Be sure to write down all our names on your cute little pad and that we’ll be back by nine o’clock tonight.” When the cop backed up with a look of anger, Angus pulled away and muttered, “Or when green fairies fly out my butt, or when my eyelashes turn blue, or whenever we flipping feel like it!”

As he drove away, he had to stop speaking because the children had burst out in laughter and Sophia kept slapping his arm. She was in hysterics, curled into a ball in the passenger’s seat. “You know what? He looks just like Ranger Rick!” She went nuts again.

Angus had found that his wife had developed quite a few nicknames for some of the townsfolk. Nazar was known as “Nazar the Bizarre.” The Carlisle sisters were “The Biddy Buns.” Artie Lavoie was “Apple Artie,” and the two kids who kept spitting their raisins out of their oatmeal raisin cookies each day were now known as “The Raisin Rats.” It kept the kids amused, and they knew better than to use those nicknames in public. “Ranger Rick” was a new one, but she was right, the cop did bear a striking resemblance to the forest ranger. Either way, Angus was sick and tired of feeling monitored. He always felt as though there were spying eyes all around them. Perhaps it was his imagination, but either way, he was glad to get away from it for a while.

They were not going to a new restaurant, although they just might. Sophia wanted to add to their savings account at their own bank. There was a branch located at the border of New Hampshire. While they were there, they were going to shop some of the clothing outlets and then perhaps, Angus would take them all out for a nice supper and a movie.

***

On Monday morning, Sophia hung a sign outside her shop that posted the new working hours. There was an attached notice stating that anyone wanting to place orders to get them through the weekends could feel free to place their orders and pick them up on Friday evenings. Not one soul complained, and yes indeed, orders were placed and paid for. The locksmith was handed two free pies instead of one for his job, and left a happy man. She found out his name was Dominick, but most people called him “Dom.” He was an older man, but it seemed he had stayed fit. His demeanor was pleasant, as though he longed to make new friends each day.

Fridays were paydays and not once was Sophia ever late paying her three employees. At the end of the week, they also split the tips that had been collected in the jar. Myrna showed up around town wearing a new blouse each week, until she had replenished her entire wardrobe. She was eating better and had filled out nicely. She was routinely seen with Dr. Tom Gillette, and they became the town gossip. Sophia was happy for them. They often came over to the Barner house on weekends for supper and game night, and enjoyed themselves immensely.

At the end of the month, the damn town hall bell woke the entire household up again. Sophia was at work already, and she groaned and placed her apron on the counter. She hoped Angus was able to get the children out of bed and to the town hall on time. For her and Myrna, it was merely a jaunt across the street. They crossed the road together, climbed the stairs, and dug inside the bucket. Neither woman acknowledged Nazar. He stood guard wearing his usual long, leather riding coat with the hood. Sophia knew that the seasonably ridiculous coat was just an intimidation factor and refused to acknowledge it.

Myrna was not worried about making the till. She had stowed most of her pay away each week—well, at least three quarters of it,—and mainly shopped for sale items at the grocery store and ate from her garden at home. With the insurance settlement in the works, she would soon be set for life and never have to worry about the till or the living fee again. She had already made arrangements with the insurance company and was having her money deposited in her new account that was out of state. Sophia had been nice enough to get her all the forms that were required to open a new account at the out-of-state bank, and she had mailed them in. She received a confirmation notice that the account was now open and monies could be transferred to and from it with ease. It was a great relief to know she was nearly financially secure once more, and Nazar had not interfered.

Neither woman opened their envelopes until they were back inside the bakery. Sophia opened hers to find the amount was the same as last month and shoved it in her pocketbook.

Myrna opened hers and let a small gasp out from between her lips. The bastard had added a “death fee” because of Bob dying. She snarled and shoved the bill in her purse. She should have known better than to trust Nazar. She was smarter than he thought, though; she’d had an inkling he would pull something to try to send her into poverty and had raided Bob’s wallet before the paramedics had arrived. His “Booze Bucks” were tucked in a credit card slot. There was one hundred dollars hidden, just what Nazar had added to the till—as if he had known. No matter, it came out of the “Bob the Bully” fund, so when she actually thought about it, she could not have cared less.

***

After her jogging routine, Sophia entered the home to see Angus and the children preparing supper. There were two envelopes on the kitchen counter, and she stared at them. One had Liam’s name on it and the other Layla’s. She held them up in the air. “What is this?”

Angus turned to her briefly. “They were in the bucket at the town hall this morning. You must have missed them.” He cleared his throat and added, “Nazar told me that I should keep a better eye on my wife.”

“What did you say in return?”

Angus shrugged. “I told him to mind his own damn business.”

He saw his wife’s expression turn to hatred at the mere mention of Nazar. She opened the envelopes and nearly went into a tirade; Nazar had instituted a till bill in the children’s names because it was obvious to him that they were employed at the bakery. She shoved the bills in her pocketbook and decided she would take care of it first thing in the morning. She was going to pay a little visit to Nazar.

After drinking her bottle of spring water, she ran upstairs to take a quick shower and change before supper. As she lathered herself up, she ran the dialogue she would have with Nazar through her mind a few times. She wanted to let Nazar know that he couldn’t kick her family around as he did the rest of the town. She would talk it over with Angus when they went to bed. The remark he had made to Angus made her furious. It was ludicrous. How Angus watched over her what Angus said to her were
none
of Nazar’s business.

***

When Myrna pulled up into her driveway, she noticed a box in front of her door. She picked it up to find it was weighty. When she was inside, she popped it open and found it was her dead husband’s remains. She sat at the kitchen table in front of the remains and pondered what to do with them. Most people left a will with explicit instructions on where their bodies were to be interred or their ashes spread. They even provided information about where they would like the memorial service. She was determined that Bob would have no memorial service. Who would go to it, anyway? Bob had no will or any such thing. She wondered about scattering him around the flower beds that he took so much pride in, or in their massive vegetable garden, but she did not want to. He was such a brutal being that she was sure his remains would poison the soil.

She wondered about his wooden tool shed, his revered tool shed. The place where he took care of everything better than he had ever cared for her. Her face pinched, and she shook her head. She wanted to convert the roomy shed into a little getaway for herself, a place of retreat from the stress of life. She finally made up her mind. She grabbed the box containing the man who had put her through ten years of hell, went to the bathroom, and dumped the gray ash and bits down the toilet. It took Myrna Bradbury four flushes to get the remains of the bastard down the pipes.

***

Sophia was up and dressed well before dawn. She was out of the house and into her vehicle before the rest of her family had even woken up. She drove to her bakery and prepped more goods than they could possibly use that day. She was angry, and anger always increased her productivity. She thought again about the dialogue she would have with Nazar and tweaked it as she beat up some bread dough.

The fact that he had personally taxed her children made her irate. She looked up at the clock to see that it was almost time for Myrna to come in. When she heard the bells atop the door chime, she washed her hands, removed her apron, and grabbed her pocketbook. Myrna came in the back and gawked at all the goods that Sophia had already made.

Sophia shouldered her pocketbook and said, “I’m going across the street for a few minutes. I’ll be right back. Can you just keep an eye on what I put in the oven?” Myna nodded and swallowed hard as Sophia stormed out of the store and across the street.

Sophia opened wide the town hall doors and stormed past the desk where “the salt shaker” sat. May Belle shouted out to her, but Sophia ignored her and took the stairs to Nazar’s office.

She knocked hard on his office door, three times, and stood back. She heard carpeted footsteps coming toward the door and saw an eye in the peephole. She found that strange. Why would someone have a peephole on their office door? The knob turned, and the door opened. She entered to find Nazar already had his back to her and was making his way to his desk. He sat behind it and motioned for her to take a seat in the chair opposite him.

She sat down and fished through her bag for the till bills that she was contesting. When she found them, she smacked them atop his desk. She eyed him and said, “It is bad enough that you tax our entire family on a monthly basis, but to tax our children over meager earnings and the use of the library and town beach? What is wrong with you?”

Nazar leaned forward. His hands were atop the desk, and he clasped them together. “They earn wages. They pay.”

Her jaw tightened; she reached into her bag and counted out the total amount of both bills. She flung the cash at him. “I hope you choke on it. For your information, my children are no longer employed at the bakery or anywhere else. Do
not
bill them again!”

Nazar sat back and looked nonplussed. He tilted his head and looked at her. “I would have thought that a person who deals with the public on a daily basis would have a pleasant disposition. You disappoint me, Mrs. Barner.”

Sophia rolled her eyes as she stood up. Her face was pinched, and she wagged her forefinger at him as she spat, “I do not care if I disappoint you! You mean nothing to me!” She leaned over the desk and sneered, “I don’t know how you were
ever
elected to office, but I promise you this! I will find out and fucking dethrone you! You are a nasty person, Nazar. You are nothing more than a typical schoolyard bully!”

Nazar watched her turn her back to him and storm from his office. He grinned and leaned forward to grasp the money and the bills. He would take them to May Belle in the offices below to mark them as paid. He chuckled as he leaned forward again and picked up his phone. He dialed a number and remained an absolute professional to the person on the other end.

Sophia stormed back into the bakery and to the back room. She faced a wall, dropped her pocketbook, and began swearing and kicking the wall. Myrna moved toward a stool and took a seat. She remained silent but listened as Sophia ranted and raved about Nazar and the crooked rules of the town. Sophia stopped kicking the wall when she noticed the sheetrock was about to give.

When the bells chimed on the bakery door, Sophia asked Myrna to see who it was and take care of it. She said she wasn’t done venting. Myrna made her way to the front to see Daryl and Donnie Borges standing there.

Myrna bent to them and said, “We’re not open yet, darlings. You can come back in one hour.”

Donnie shook his head and hooked a thumb over his shoulder toward the street. “Nope, Nazar called Mama and told us that we were working here from now on. He said there were two job openings and we were to fill them in order to help out Mama.”

Myrna craned her neck to look in the back room. She saw Sophia standing in the doorway, frowning.

Myrna gently pushed the boys toward Sophia and watched as she examined the boys from head to toe. Their hair was dirty, their clothes were in need of laundering, and their shoes were ill-fitting. Sophia pulled at the tags of their clothes and jotted down the sizes. She estimated their shoe size. When she was done, she grabbed her pocketbook again and stormed out of the bakery. Myrna escorted the boys to the bathroom and told them to wash up.