A Crouton Murder (6 page)

I gave her a glare and said, “Funny, very funny. Don’t think for a moment that Scotland doesn’t have all of those things you’ve listed. With my luck, she’d meet a
nice
Scot at a strip club and they’d both be hauled off to jail. Then what?” I snickered and shook my head in dismay.

We talked a while longer. I said I’d let her know when Vinnie called. With a nod of acceptance, BettyJo walked out the door. I waited in the doorway until she entered her own place before I locked my door, shut down the lights, and climbed the stairs to my apartment. Man, I was beat. The day had dragged on forever.

*    *    *

There are some things we can change and others that remain steadfast in our lives. Seanmhair was one of those steadfast things. I thanked my lucky stars, most of the time, for her help, understanding, and her sense of humor. When she’d been hauled into the police station this past summer, by way of a paddy-wagon, I’d been appalled and disturbed to think she’d continued to frequent a Providence strip club after I’d warned her of what the consequences of her actions might be.

The gnome-like woman strolled into the bakery about a half hour later than usual, looking quite pleased with herself. Over what? I wondered.

With a glance at the clock, I asked, “You’re not usually late. Is something wrong?” From the look on her face, I’d guess there wasn’t, but I had to make sure and also find out why she’d been late.

“Mr. Graham, a man who lives on the second floor in my building, asked me to breakfast this morning. We’d played cards a few times along with a couple games of chess. He’s a charming fellow,” Seanmhair said wistfully. The only things missing were the stars in her eyes. Oh, boy.

“That is lovely. I’m glad you had the chance to indulge yourself that way. I wish you’d do that more often. You needn’t come in early every day, you know,” I said with a slight grin. By gosh, the woman was besotted with this man. Did this mean she’d give up the Scotland idea?

“He’s a Scot, you know,” she said as she hung her coat up in the back room, off my kitchen.

Here we go, this isn’t good. I held my breath and nodded.

“He’s originally from Scotland, been living here for many years. He’d like to return to his homeland now that his wife has passed on. He’s very sweet.”

The bell over the door tinkled. I ran a hand across my forehead with a sigh, and Seanmhair went to wait on customers. She smiled at me as she went past and chuckled when she pushed though the swinging doors. Holy hell, I was in for it now. She’d never let up about moving to Scotland at this rate.

While she waited on each person in turn, I strode out the rear door and gripped the handrail while I sucked in huge breaths of air and tried to relax. Stymied as to why my grandmother had taken it into her head to insist we make the move, I rolled my eyes heavenward, sought solace from the universe, and made the decision to put my foot down and insist she not mention relocating ever again. That meant I’d have to do the same with Aidan, which would likely be a tad more difficult since I found him such a magnet where my heartstrings were concerned.

The morning rush ended with Seanmhair asking for a sandwich and my making it for her. She ate while I assumed the job of bread selling. The day’s stock had dwindled. I rearranged loaves of breads and bundles of rolls left on the shelves and in the glass case. Seanmhair came through the doors with a suggestion that I take time for lunch. I smiled, agreed, and left her to cope with the new influx of bread buyers before she could start talking of Mr. Graham and Scotland again.

A sandwich sat waiting for me on the stainless steel table in the corner. Pleased at Seanmhair’s thoughtfulness, I happily munched and sipped the steaming tea that sat next to the plate. I’d eaten half of the chicken salad sandwich when a light tap on the door brought my attention away from the delightful food. When I answered the summons, I found Detective Anderson waiting outside.

“May I come in?” he asked in a serious tone.

My stomach somersaulted and my chicken threatened to return as I ushered the detective into the room. I swallowed hard and pasted a smile on my face as he turned toward me.

“What’s up?” I asked, and motioned to a stool across from my lunch.

He eyed the sandwich, then glanced up and held my gaze with his own gray one.

“Don’t let me interrupt your lunch. I can come back later, Melina,” Porter assured me.

“I was finished. Would you like the rest?” I asked, and pushed the plate forward with a smile when I caught the gleam in his eyes. Anything to put off what would likely be more questions to which I had no answers. Crap.

“Would you like tea or coffee?”

“No, thanks.”

He finished eating and then said, “Normally, I wouldn’t tell you this, but I’ve checked into the background of the guests. I’ve come across some interesting information that I can’t share. You aren’t on the suspect list any longer, but keep that news to yourself,” he murmured softly and glanced around as though the walls had suddenly grown ears.

“Seanmhair is out front, and can’t hear what we’re talking about, so don’t worry. I’ll do as you ask.”

I’d no sooner finished speaking, when Seanmhair strutted through the doors and announced Vinnie Esposito had arrived. Seanmhair must have been impressed with the tall, leggy, dark-haired beauty who sauntered into the room behind her, because she gave her a wide berth followed by a huge grin. She hurried back to the shop.

“Hey, Porter, what are you doing here?” Vinnie’s eyes flicked back and forth between me and the detective. It was easy to see, by the smile that tickled the corners of her lips, that she thought Porter had an ulterior motive for hanging about.

“I might ask you the same question, Vin,” Porter answered as he leaned on one foot and then the other as though he was uncomfortable.

With a laugh, Vinnie said, “I was invited, but I can sure as hell say that you probably weren’t.”

“Right, I’ll leave you two alone.” Porter glanced at me and said, “Remember what I said.”

“Sure thing,” I murmured.

He left the same way he’d entered. I turned to Vinnie after he closed the door on his way out.

“He’s a great guy. Was he here on business or is it personal?” Vinnie asked with a grin.

“Business,” I said with finality. “He’s investigating a mishap that took place next door,” I said. “Speaking of next door, I wanted to ask if you’d show my neighbor, BettyJo Seever, some self-defense moves. She thinks she may have a stalker. I assured her you’d know what to do and might be willing to give her some pointers.”

Vinnie listened, and then gave me a nod. “I had a stalker once. He was a miserable twit. We got into hand-to-hand combat. I nearly lost the battle, but by gosh, I refused to go down without a fight. Your friend should do the same.” Vinnie glanced at her watch. “Is she available now?”

“Let’s find out.” I poked my head out the swinging door and told Seanmhair that I’d be back. She gave me a nod while she made change for a customer from the cash register.

Outside, I gave Vinnie a brief rundown of what to expect from BettyJo. She chuckled and said, “She’ll be fine if she doesn’t lose her cool should her stalker do more than follow her around. Does she have any idea why he’s stalking her?”

I shrugged and said, “If she does, she hasn’t mentioned it to me.” I opened the rear door of BettyJo’s shop and listened for a second. I didn’t hear her speaking, and figured she wasn’t in the middle of a reading.

“Are you here or upstairs?” I called.

She thundered down the stairs and came into view within seconds. When she saw Vinnie, she stopped dead and looked at me with a question in her eyes.

“Would you be Vinnie Esposito?” BettyJo asked as her eyes traveled upward.

Vinnie stands just under six feet tall, which is intimidating in itself. To say BettyJo was, would be an understatement. She’d visibly paled as she gaped at the tall, beautiful, and well-stacked woman. Not only did Vinnie have height, she was physically fit and toned, which wasn’t lost on either BettyJo or me. Since we both stand around five-foot-five inches, Vinnie’s height and confidence were a tad overwhelming. Remembering her story about Vinnie’s hand-to-hand combat with her stalker, I felt certain she could handle herself in any situation. I knew for sure that BettyJo and I would run like hell instead of stand our ground.

Vinnie stretched out a hand to shake BettyJo’s. Once they’d greeted one another, Vinnie asked, “Who’s the stalker and why is he following you? Any idea?”

“None. I don’t know how long he’s been doing so. I noticed him about a week ago. He’s never said a word to me. He’s just there wherever I go. It’s quite unnerving.”

“He showed up, just like that?” Vinnie snapped her fingers.

BettyJo nodded.

“I can show you a few simple things to do that will bring anyone to their knees without getting into a fist fight with them. First, never yell for help. Nobody will come forward. Instead, face the person who is about to accost you. Put your hand up in a stop motion and yell ‘stop’. If that doesn’t deter him, get away from him as fast as you can.”

“I’m not sure how that would work better than calling for help.”

Vinnie smirked. “Believe me, it works. Been there, done that, way too many times.”

I leaned against the door jamb, listening to her instructions.

“Next, if you’re grabbed around the neck or shoulders, reach up with your hand and pry his thumb or baby fingers back until he releases you. He will, for sure. It’s very painful to have those members bent backwards until they nearly break. Once he eases his hold, run your shoe down the front of his shin bone. He should let go long enough for you to escape. Run like hell, understand?”

“C-can you show me?” BettyJo asked with a worried expression.

“Sure, Melina will grab you around your neck. Do what I told you to do and see what happens.” Vinnie stepped back, watching as I wrapped my arm around BettyJo’s neck and tightened my grip.

I felt my fingers peel back. Excruciating pain ran through my hand and up my arm. Instantly, I released my hold on her and massaged my hand.

“That hurt,” I remarked.

Vinnie stood me in front of BettyJo and told her to grab me in the same hold. When she did, I bent her fingers back and slid the ridge of my shoe down her shin. BettyJo yowled and jumped back, her hold on me gone.

“You didn’t have to break them,” BettyJo complained as she rubbed her hand and then her shin. Cripes, that really hurt, but it works. Sorry, Melina.”

“I’ll try to remember these actions if I run into trouble,” BettyJo said to Vinnie. “Thanks, I appreciate your taking the time to show me, us.” BettyJo giggled and turned to the front of her reading room when the door opened and three women came in.

“We’ll go now. Come over before you leave for dinner with your father,” I said as Vinnie and I went out the back door.

She nodded and turned to her clients.

As we walked back to my bakery, Vinnie asked, “Do you think she’ll be okay? She should make a report to the police department, Melina. Advise her to do so.”

“I will, thanks. Did that work for you?”

With a snort, she said, “Not at all, but at least it was on record, so when we did come to blows, there was a paper trail.”

“What happened to the guy?”

“He’s in residence at Rhode Island’s local funny farm. The guy really doesn’t have all his marbles, you know?” She shrugged. “Why don’t you mention this stalker to Porter the next time he comes by? See what he has to say about it, and take it from there. BettyJo seems like a nice person who doesn’t have a mean bone in her body. If I realize that from meeting her once, chances are her stalker knows it and will use that to his advantage if and when the time comes for him to make a move on her.”

Her words scared the bejeepers out of me. I simply nodded at her suggestion and thanked her for stopping by.

She grinned at Seanmhair as we headed for the front door. My grandmother smiled sweetly, told her to come back soon, and gave her a loaf of ciabatta bread, a porous Italian wheat loaf. Vinnie laughed out loud, told me I was lucky to have such a charming gran, and said she’d check back another day.

At the door, she glanced back and remarked, “Don’t hesitate to call me if you need help with anything. I mean it, Melina. Anything, understand?”

“Thanks, I’ll keep the offer in mind.”

I stared as she walked up the street, got into a light blue car, and took off into traffic like hell’s fury. I whistled at her nerve and turned toward Seanmhair.

“I take it you liked the look of her?”

With a snicker, Seanmhair answered, “She’s a ball of fire, that one. You can tell by the way she carries herself. I noticed Detective Anderson didn’t stay long once she asked what he was about. Do they know one another?”

“I think they have a friendly relationship. Vinnie didn’t say.”

“Who would name their daughter Vinnie?” Seanmhair wanted to know.

“Her real name is Lavinia, but everyone calls her Vinnie. I’ve heard of her experiences and guess she’s quite fearless.”

“A kind of Wonder Woman, then?” Seanmhair asked with a gentle laugh.

“I guess,” I agreed.

I’d reached the swinging doors when Seanmhair asked, “What did the detective want?”

Aware of my promise to keep his news to myself, I said, “After he ate half of my sandwich, Vinnie arrived and we didn’t have a chance to talk. He might be back later, though. When I know more, you will, too.”

“Good, I worry about you and BettyJo. This wouldn’t happen if we lived in Scotland, Melina.”

“Sean, don’t start with the Scotland thing, please. I have enough on my plate without you going on about moving away. If you want to go, please feel free to do so. I can’t and won’t move my business out of the US.” At the crestfallen look on her face, I took a deep breath, and said softly, “I hope you understand.”

She nodded and turned away. Guilt settled over me cloak-like for having spoken to her so abruptly. I marched into the kitchen and cleaned like a mad woman until I’d worked off both my aggravation and guilt.

Fresh baked Challah bread scented the air. A braided, sweetened egg bread, that’s part of the Jewish Sabbath was always a hit with my clientele, whether they were Jewish or not. I’d made a dozen loaves and left them to cool while fougasse bread, a raised flatbread from southern France and similar in nature to focaccia bread, baked.