Death by Scones (11 page)

He shot his head back. His brows furrowed.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…I just…I, uh, I…" What the heck was I saying?

He folded his arms over his chest. "Is this about Jared?"

A fire lit within me, and all the smoldering sparked. "As a matter of fact, it is, but not in the way you think. What's going on between you and Jared?"

He pointed to his throat. "Me? I'm not the one forgetting to mention how your best friend—the one you've barely spoken to in the past year but still hold to such high esteem—has moved back to town."

I scoffed. "What's the big deal? I simply forgot. Excuse me for not thinking clearly after discovering a dead body."

His intense gaze wavered.

"And I wasn't the one trying to make out at the funeral today," I said, noting my slight exaggeration but stubbornly not wanting to take it back.

"I was kissing you good-bye. Like I just attempted. Since when can't I kiss you in front of your friends?"

"You never tried before because you don't like public displays of affection. Holding hands is as far as you go. You said that on our second date."

He opened his mouth and stammered.

"So why is it that suddenly Jared's around and you feel the need to shove your tongue down my throat?"

The hurt look in his eyes made me realize I'd taken it one step too far. Crap.

I shook my head and glanced out to the street. "Look, I'm sorry. I just don't understand this macho thing. I don't get the need to have to prove something. I'm with you."

I didn't bother to point out how unattractive his insecurities were either.

He put a sly smile on his face. "Most women would be flattered a guy wanted to protect what was his."

I narrowed my gaze. "I'm not most women, and I'm not yours. I'm dating you, but I'm not your property."

"Of course."

I wasn't quite certain he really agreed with me though. Was Will attracted to me because my clothing style suggested I thought the 1950s was a swell time? I was sure it had been when it came to malt sodas and drive-ins, and yes, I had a deep passion for baking, but I wasn't and never would be the li'l miss, content with having a man take care of her. I wanted an equal partner.

Neither of us had anything to say after that. Well, I had nothing nice to say. So we said our good-byes, and I went inside.

The house was chilly, too chilly. I went upstairs, kicked off my heels by my bedroom door, and felt a breeze from Grams' room. Was she back? She was known for turning on a fan when it wasn't needed, like in the middle of winter. Living with her when she went through menopause had been torture, to say the least. She'd kept the AC on all the time. I'd had to put a hoodie on when I entered the house in the summer. And in the winter, I'd walked around with my comforter around my shoulders. Thank goodness that was over.

Her room was dark. I flipped the wall switch. The bedside lamp went on. Nope, she was still gone. This must've been a great friend if she couldn't return for a murder. I pulled my phone out of my purse and dialed her number.

It went straight to voice mail. I left a quick message telling her to call me ASAP, and then I texted, for the added dramatic affect.

When are you coming home?

My phone buzzed before I returned it to my purse.

Are you okay?

So she was near her phone and chose not to answer? I had a bone to pick with that woman. I replied:
I'm fine, but I need to talk to you about Nathan and mom. Call me
.

I stood there and waited for her response, but none ever came. That only confirmed she knew something about the two. And it was probably something I didn't want to hear, like how Mom and Nathan were involved. Eww, gross. Not because he was gross, at least not thirty-something years ago. Just because Mom getting it on with anyone contained images a child never wanted to imagine.

Chills raked up my arms, and I looked up to see the curtain at Grams' front window blow. It was open halfway. I shut it and was about to turn to go to my room when a car outside caught my attention. It was a white Toyota Camry just like Max's. Why was he here? Was he watching me?

The next day, the bakery had exactly two customers. Jared for his morning muffin and coffee before school and Elizabeth Ashby for an afternoon cinnamon bun. No one else entered the bakery, not even Officer Fred Fields, who'd never gone a day without a treat. At least we still had our custom order with Ocean View Bed & Breakfast. But that wasn't enough to pay the bills.

When Amber arrived to work, I almost told her to take the day off, but I knew she needed the income, even if we couldn't afford to pay her. Plus, and maybe this was pretty chickenshit of me, I didn't want to stay until Mrs. Hendrickson came in. My date with Will had been so weird I was certain he'd told his grandmother, and Mrs. Hendrickson would give me a lecture and interrogation. Not necessarily in that order. I doubted I'd ever understand Mrs. Hendrickson and her grandson's close bond. If Grams grilled any of my boyfriends, I'd… Well, there was no reason to even finish that thought. Grams was too busy with her own love life to butt into mine.

Before leaving, I took a quick inventory of the cookies and muffins Joe had created that we hadn't put out in the displays yet. Normally, we'd already be on this second batch of deliciousness. If these items hadn't been sold by morning, I'd have to tell Joe to stay home. Of course, that would mean calling Mrs. Hendrickson tonight to find out. Darn.

I grabbed a carrot cake muffin, sunk my teeth into its firm softness, and softly moaned as the flavors of cinnamon and nutmeg caressed my tongue. I enjoyed eating as much as I loved baking.

After inhaling the muffin, I wheeled my bike out of the bakery's back door and decided to stop by Nathan's again. I wanted to see Max and to find out more information. Not only did I have Mom and Nathan questions, and who killed Nathan questions, but now I added in Nathan and his siblings questions. They may not have been my business, but I didn't care. I wanted to know everything I could about this mysterious and puzzling man. Aside from the curiosity of him and Mom, the best way to figure out who killed him was by learning who wanted him dead. And since he was a recluse, I had no idea where to begin finding these suspects. Other than his own sisters perhaps. Gloria spoke about Nathan's estate and money as if she'd really wanted it.

The white Camry sat in the driveway, and two other cars—both black rentals—were parked on the street in front of the house. When I braked, the neighbor peeked out from the side of his bush, in the exact same spot he'd been the last time I saw him. He wore the same trousers and T-shirt from last time too, but instead of red suspenders, he now wore green ones. Several strands of his white hair were stuck together on the top of his head, which gave him a birdlike look.

I stopped, thinking he wanted to say something, but he just stood there staring at me. How odd. Was he always out here, or did he rush out when he heard someone approaching? If he weren't borderline creepy, I'd try to grill him. I would've been shocked if he hadn't observed and learned some interesting tidbits about the Dearborns this past week.

A loud sound boomed from inside the house. I flinched, and so did the neighbor. The front door swung open, and Gloria stormed from the house. She didn't seem to see me as she stomped down the walkway. A nauseating cloud of rose perfume followed her.

Max appeared at the door. His face was pink and scrunched up in fury. "Age has nothing to do with it," he shouted.

Gloria stopped, looked back, and snarled. I expected her to yell a response, but she just continued to her car. Shifting it into gear, she peeled out of there, complete with screeching tires and the wretched scent of burning rubber.

Max blinked twice, then looked straight at me. That was when he noticed me. Instantly his expression softened. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Riley, I'm sorry you saw that."

"That's fine. You should've seen some of the arguments I had with my grandmother when I was younger. You have some time?"

He still looked frazzled but waved me over. "Sure, come on in."

I followed him inside and back to the kitchen. One day I hoped to make it into the other rooms. His aunt Holly was seated at the table, eating a bowl of cereal. She scooped a huge spoonful of multicolored marshmallows into her mouth. She eyed me, but I couldn't tell what she was thinking with all that chewing going on.

"I hope I'm not interrupting," I said.

Max glanced at his aunt in disgust. "No, Aunt Holly and Aunt Gloria thought they'd come over to mooch."

Wow, I couldn't imagine speaking to Uncle Doug or Aunt Bernie like that.

Holly glared at him, then lifted her bowl and held it to her mouth. Once she finished slurping the milk, with loud sounds and all, she stood, placed the bowl in the sink, and wiped away the milk mustache with the back of her hand. "I'll get out of your way now. Thanks for being the ever-so-gracious man you've always been, nephew."

She walked out without a glance to me. Several seconds later, the front door slammed.

"Family," Max said with a half smile.

"Are they always like this?" I asked, sat at the table, and smoothed away a wrinkle in my blue-and-white paisley bell-bottom pants. They weren't officially from the 1970s. I ordered them online a month ago from a shop that loved the past as much as I did.

He scratched the top of his head. He wore jeans, a white tank top, and no shoes. That seemed to be his normal attire. "Aunt Holly's usually not dramatic. Aunt Gloria's the hothead."

I frowned. If I had to guess, I'd say that Gloria was a Sagittarius or maybe an Aries. Something fiery. "I take it you've never been close, or is this just a grieving thing?"

He looked pensive. "I spent most of my life in New Jersey. It's where my parents moved due to my father's job. Aunt Gloria and Aunt Holly weren't a big part of my life. I think I've only seen them five times total."

Interesting.

"Were you close to your uncle?" I asked.

He chuckled. "No one was close to Uncle Nathan, at least not in the past decade or so. I do, however, remember him fondly from when I was a kid. He traveled a lot because of his film career, and he visited us often. He and my dad were close."

Max seemed to be the only person who had pleasant memories of the man. Other than Mrs. Hendrickson and possibly Mom, if she were alive.

"Was he close with his sisters?"

Max shrugged. "I'm not sure, but from the way they speak about him, I doubt it."

"Then why are they here?"

Something glinted in his eye. "For a possible inheritance. And as you now know, they weren't left anything."

I knew it. "But they came here believing they inherited something?"

He nodded and poured water into a teakettle. "They assumed he would've been generous considering he was their brother. I guess they didn't take their relationships into consideration or that Uncle Nathan had changed over the years."

"Why?" I asked. Hey, if he wasn't going to tell me to shut up, I'd keep grilling him. "Why did he change?"

Another pensive gaze took over Max's face. Then he shrugged. "He went through some life-changing moments."

There was something more there, something Max was deliberately not saying. I guessed some family secrets were to remain hidden. Okay, so back to the aunts.

"Why aren't Holly and Gloria staying here rather than renting a room?"

He let out one loud chuckle. "They didn't like that I was made executor of the will, especially since I'm not a sibling. They keep saying Uncle Nathan was sexist, and it's only because I'm male, and that they couldn't stay in the home of such a person."

"Was he? Sexist?"

Max glanced out the window. "I don't know. But with all their accusations and insults they still…" He looked into the sink.

"Come by and eat his food?"

"Yes." He set the kettle on the stove.

If they assumed they were in Nathan's will, they had a motive to kill him.

"How long have they been in town?" I hoped my questions still sounded like casual snooping rather than specific interrogating.

He pulled out a box of tea bags from a cabinet to the left of the stove. "As long as I have, I assume. I got the call from Uncle Nathan's lawyer the day after he died. I took the next plane out. When I arrived, the lawyer met me here with the key. They showed up a couple of hours later."

That didn't mean they hadn't been here before then though. Maybe they had come for a visit, tried to get money out of their dear estranged brother, and when he refused, they decided to get rid of him so they could get to his money. But how could I prove any of this?

"What's with all the questions?" Max stared at me.

I decided to be as honest as I could without giving away too much knowledge. I really didn't want Max to suspect me. He was my key to Nathan's life.

"I feel bad that your uncle died in my business, and I find it so interesting that he lived his life without very many people in it. As humans, we seek out companionship. But not him."

Max turned back to the cupboards and took down two mugs. "Some people prefer being alone."

I thought of Mom. She hadn't had a group of friends. She was content with just her family. "Did your uncle ever mention a Lily Templeton?" I asked, using Mom's maiden name.

Max looked at me and stared for a hard second. "I don't recall."

Okay, so that wouldn't lead anywhere.

"And you?" I asked. "How long are you staying for?"

"I've decided not to leave. Uncle Nathan left me this house, and I don't see the reason in selling just yet. This wasn't just Uncle Nathan's home, but the house they all grew up in."

Seriously? "Well, no wonder Holly and Gloria are so upset. This is their family home too."

Max looked away and nodded. "Yeah."

"And you're able to just leave your job and family and stay here indefinitely?"

He smiled, displaying a dimple in his right cheek only. "I'm a freelance photographer. I go to where the work is. And my mother is perfectly happy with her knitting club, church choir, and her walking group. She won't even notice I'm gone. Plus, she gave her blessing." He gave a sheepish grin. It seemed as if they were close. He was lucky.