Dying for Dinner Rolls (14 page)

As I left Bezu’s house, I pulled the paper out of my purse. Opening the story about Annie Mae and me solving Lucy’s murder, I saw the headline next to our story. Prominent Lawyer, M. Zwick Dies. My heart skipped a beat.

I sat down on Bezu’s front step and read the story. I had just talked to him the other day. He’d said that he was fine. I felt an overwhelming need to go over and pay my respects; after all, he’d said that he and my father were like brothers.

I went to my house and grabbed a sympathy card. Since I lived close by, I decided to hand deliver the card.

Fifteen minutes later, I stood at Micky’s front door. I rang the bell.

The door opened.

Karen, dressed in black, her eyes red, said, “Hi, Catherine, right?”

“Yes. I just found out about Micky. I am so sorry.”

“Please come in.” Karen led me into the front sitting room. Vases of flowers adorned tabletops. A side table held a stack of papers and cards. It smelled of flowers and coffee.

“Can I get you anything?” Karen asked.

“No, thank you. I just came by to pay my respects. I am so sorry.”

“We all are. Micky was one of a kind.” Karen’s eyes welled up.

“I just spoke with him the other day, and he said he was fine,” I said.

“I know. He was. It all happened so suddenly. I feel it’s all my fault.” Karen wrung her hands.

“Why?”

“I left him alone for an hour; he told me to go. He said that he was going to sleep. That I didn’t need to keep tabs on him,” Karen said.

“Uh huh,” I said.

“He told me that he really didn’t need twenty-four-hour care. His doctor even said I needn’t be here all the time. I just, I have been a part of the family for so long. I raised all his children. I was with him when his wife died. I, he, I mean…” Karen looked at me with pleading eyes.

“You had a special relationship?” I offered.

“Yes. Yes. I loved him.” A tear spilled down Karen’s cheek.

I put an arm around her shoulder. “I am so sorry.”

“I don’t understand. He was fine when I left. We had gotten out for a walk around the park. We’d even stopped for lunch. It was really one of his better days,” Karen said between sobs.

Karen continued, “It doesn’t make sense. I had to run to the grocery store before it closed. He likes their organic dates and their peaches. It’s just right around the corner by the park.”

“The Sunshine Market?”

“Why, yes, you know the store?”

“My folks own it,” I said.

“He just loves your store.” Karen sucked in a breath. “I mean loved. It seems surreal that I am talking about him in the past tense.”

“After my dad was killed, I still caught myself talking about him in present tense.”

“I just don’t know how I’m going to make it through this.”

“It’d be great if there were a pill or a spell of some sort that could wipe away all the pain and grief. Right?”

Karen nodded as she wiped her cheek with the back of her hand.

“I can’t tell you how many times I catch myself wanting to talk to him, or entering the store thinking that I’d see him in his yellow apron stocking produce.” I felt the tug at my heart.

“Can I be frank with you?”

“Sure.”

“Losing the one you love, well, it sucks.”

I let out a giggle. “Yes, it does.”

The doorbell rang.

Karen reached for my hand. “Thank you, Catherine, for listening to me. I am sorry I spilled my sorry sob story on you.”

I held her hand for a second. “No problem.”

“Please, excuse me.” Karen left to answer the door. “You are welcome to stay. There are food and beverages in the kitchen. Please help yourself.”

“Thanks.”

Deciding it was time to leave, I retrieved the sympathy card from my purse and set it on top of the pile of papers on the sideboard.

As I turned, my purse knocked down the stack, scattering it to the ground. I knelt down to pick up the sprawling mess.

I gathered cards, letters, newspapers, and magazines addressed to Micky Zwick or resident. One part of yesterday’s newspaper was folded over. Opening the fold, I saw it was the crossword puzzle.

My breath caught in my chest as I read the purple inked squares that said, “Got You.”

THE END

Thank you so much for reading DYING FOR DINNER ROLLS. If you enjoyed this story, please do me a huge favor. Go back to
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