Flourless to Stop Him (22 page)

“Okay.”

“Good.”

“Fine.” I hung up and looked at Tasha. “I got scolded.”

“How so?”

“He said I needed to make an effort to fit in.” I frowned. “He said I should attend more Chamber of Commerce coffees.”

“He’s right, you know.” She wrapped her hands around her warm cup. “You can’t just set up shop and hope people come to you. You have to reach out to them as well. Show them you care and you’re in it for the long haul.”

My shoulders slumped as I sat back suddenly exhausted. “I’m barely making ends meet now. It’s going to be very difficult to lose two more hours to the Chamber coffee.”

Tasha reached out and put her hand over mine. “Look at it this way: attending the coffee may not only strengthen your business but save your brother. While you are schmoozing you can do some snooping. Blackmore might be there, or one of his managers. If nothing else you can bring some baked goods and remind everyone how you can make their holidays brighter.”

“Speaking of the holidays, I need to check on the delivery guys. If I can’t get my orders out today, the entire season is sunk.”

“I’m here if you need any help,” she said. “Kip’s on winter break after today. I’ve got my work schedule set up to accommodate him. So I’ll be around to help.”

“Thanks.” I stood and hugged her. “You and Brad are so right. I need to quit being so self-involved and start connecting with people, or any success I have will be worthless.”

“It really is smart.” Tasha paused. “Are we good?” She looked at me with concern. “I know I sprung moving out on you. It wasn’t personal.”

“I know. Calvin only has your best interests in mind.”

“It’s not like he’s forbidding me to see you. Leaving Aubrey with you means you’ll see us every day.”

“Somehow I sense a well-thought-out plot.”

“Ha!” Tasha laughed. “You’re good.”

“Yes, I am.”

“So we’re good.”

“Yes.”

“Great! Go get your delivery guys on the phone. I’m going to finish my tea and go to work. Call me if you need me.”

“You do the same,” I said and went to the back office to look up the number for the shipping guys. My thoughts turned to the Chamber coffees I’d missed. It wasn’t that I didn’t like the people at the Chamber. It’s just that after Chamber darling Lois Striker’s murder and Grandma Ruth’s suspected involvement, it felt awkward to go. Once that situation was straightened out, I was out of the habit of going. Perhaps it was time to get back into the habit. Schmoozing was a practiced art. The more you practiced, the better you got. Or so I was told.

I
walked into the Chamber coffee with two trays of baked goods.

“Oh, Toni, Daylight Donuts catered this coffee.” Sherry Waters Williams stopped me at the door. Her blonde hair was in a soft straight blunt cut that swung with ease across her shoulder. Her makeup was Miss America perfect along with her navy suit and green-and-red pin-striped blouse. Her long legs were encased in the soft sheen of a pair of sheer hose, and she wore four-inch beige stilettoes. Her every motion was grace and beauty.

“Hi, Sherry, I know. I’m not trying to upstage Daylight. I called and checked with Doug Asher and he agreed I could bring in a few gluten-free items to complement their offering.”

“Oh, okay.” Sherry’s attitude changed from that of a
you aren’t following the rules
busybody to a welcoming host. “Then put them over here behind the donuts.” We walked through the Chamber offices to the conference room. It had
one giant table and chairs and then two credenzas, where the donuts were artfully arranged along with coffee, tea, and juices.

“Hi, Doug.” Sherry stopped in front of Doug Asher, the owner of Daylight Donuts. “Toni says she called you about bringing some gluten-free items out to complement your spread.”

“Oh, yes. Hi, Toni.” Doug held out his hand and I adjusted my trays and shook it. “Thanks for bringing those.” He took one of the trays off my hands and maneuvered around Sherry. “Come on. I’ll show you where to put them.”

Sherry’s feathers seemed a tad ruffled as she narrowed her eyes at us. But in the next second her attention was caught by Brad walking into the room. She went off to coo and flirt. I tried not to roll my eyes.

“Thanks for saving me,” I said as Doug put down the tray next to his pastries. “Sherry is a stickler for rules.”

“I know.” He lifted the corner of his mouth. “She gets kind of crazy whenever anyone acts differently than she thinks they should.”

Doug was a nice, middle-aged man with a soft jaw and bald head. His hazel eyes showed intelligence and understanding of my perceived social awkwardness. When you worked in the back kitchen like I did, you didn’t have need for social graces. Unless you were at a Chamber coffee trying to get the rich and powerful in the county to notice you.

A quick look around the room and you could tell the bankers and lawyers from the other small business owners. They dressed in perfectly pressed shirts with matching ties along with suits of gray and charcoal with four-hundred-dollar Italian shoes that were well polished.

There were a few women here. Sherry, of course, who tended to host these things. Then there were her other Chamber mates—Pete Hamm, Chamber president, and Alisa Thompson, an older woman with champagne blonde hair
and the chubby body of a woman in her fifties who was too busy to get to the gym. Alisa was community liaison and tried to come visit Baker’s Treat once a month if for nothing else than to ensure I kept the small plaque declaring Baker’s Treat a part of the Chamber in plain view.

“So, Doug.” I rearranged the goodies so that they looked like part of his display. “How long have you been a member of the Chamber?”

He crossed his arms as if uncertain what to do with his hands. “For six months now.”

“Has it been helpful?”

“I’m not really certain,” he said with a shrug. “I signed up to cater four times a year, but Sherry keeps forgetting my days.” His mouth tightened. “It’s like I don’t exist unless I make a fuss.”

“But if you cater, then they have to know what you do.”

“Every time I come to one of these I have to remind Sherry what I do for a living. It seems that unless you’re part of the country club set you are easily dismissed.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I know what that’s like, and I went to school with her.”

“As warm and welcoming as the community is, it takes them forever to accept you.”

“That’s the thing about small towns, isn’t it?” I said. “Everyone knows everyone, and anyone they don’t know everything about is suspect.”

“Speaking of suspect, I heard your brother was arrested for that murder. How are you handling that?” He stuck his hands in his pockets when he asked.

“Wow, gossip really does travel fast,” I said. “I would have figured the storm closing down the highways would have trumped the news about my brother.”

“The opposite happened,” Doug said with a shrug. “Everyone was stuck at home with nothing to do but call each other.”

“Tim’s innocent.”

“Yeah, I figured you’d say that. What’s with all the sinister goings-on in your family?”

Okay, how do you answer a question like that? “Once a suspect, always a suspect?” I shrugged.

Doug laughed heartily and people turned to look at us. I felt the heat of embarrassment creep up my cheeks. “I suppose that’s the easiest answer.” He grinned. “I don’t know what the family did to the police, but I hope you’re able to straighten things out.”

“From your mouth to God’s ears,” I muttered. Lucky for me Brad stepped through the door at that moment. “Take care.” I left Doug standing near his donuts.

“Good, you’re here,” Brad said as he gave me a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Sherry tried to kick me out because I brought gluten-free treats. Luckily I had prearranged with Doug to bring them in.”

“Sherry’s a stickler. As much as she can be a pain to deal with, it’s good to have a person who enforces the rules or the entire world would run amuck.”

“Yes, we wouldn’t want everyone bringing in their baked goods and upstaging the sponsor.”

“Did you mingle?”

I winced. “You know I’m terrible at the whole mingle/schmooze thing.”

“Toni, it’s a necessary part of being a small business owner.”

“Fine, but before I wander around aimlessly butting into conversations and pretending I belong here, did you find out anything more about the videos?”

“No, but I do have a phone message in to the judge. Don’t worry, I’m on good speaking terms with him.” Brad gave me a sincere look. “I met him at a Chamber coffee and we hit it off at the Chamber charity golf tournament.”

“Okay, okay, I get the point.” I blew out a breath and
turned to face the clusters of people in the room. There was nothing for it but to square my shoulders and butt in. I took a step and decided that I needed a cup of coffee so that I didn’t stand around wondering what to do with my hands.

I made a beeline to the coffeepots. There was a short, square bald man filling his cup with hot water. “Tea drinker?” I asked as I grabbed a white mug.

He eyed the coffee I poured into my cup. “Not really,” he said. “But my doc says no more than a single cup in the morning. So I’m stuck with herbal tea.” He ripped the paper off a packet of orange zest herbal tea and dunked the tea bag in the hot water.

“Oh, you have my sympathy.” I poured half-and-half into my cup. “I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t have coffee.” I held out my hand. “Toni Holmes.”

“Mark Blackmore,” he said and shook my hand.

Okay, wow, talk about coincidence. “Hi, I’ve heard good things about you.”

“Oh, really? Like what?” He used a spoon to squeeze the tea bag into his cup and then discarded the bag in the trash can.

“You have a really good business model.” I sipped my coffee and burnt my tongue. There was nothing to do but swallow the superhot liquid, and it burnt all the way down my throat. My eyes watered.

“Hot?” He chuckled.

“A little.” I grabbed a napkin and dabbed at my mouth. “Excuse me, I need ice water.” I stepped around him and poured a glass half full of ice water and downed it quickly.

Sherry stepped up while I cooled my throat and took Blackmore by the arm, cooed something about using his services for the Chamber’s security, and walked him away.

“That went well,” Brad said as he poured his own drink.

“Right?” I watched Mark Blackmore enjoy Sherry’s attention. “Is there any way we can get his company records
so that we can compare the security guard list to the hotels at the times that Tim supposedly did business out of them?”

Brad shook his head. “No, there’s no evidence that there’s a connection.”

“That’s the point,” I said. “If we had the list, we’d have the evidence we need.”

“Toni, if we don’t follow the law, then that list and any other evidence we find could be thrown out of court. That would actually hurt your brother. You don’t want that, do you?”

“No, no, I don’t.” I sipped my cooled coffee, but with a burnt tongue the joy was gone. “Mindy’s really hooked on you.” Brad looked shocked and surprised at that statement. I bit my lower lip. You see, I have this very bad habit of blurting out the wrong thing at the wrong time.

“Your cousin is a very beautiful woman.” Brad tilted his head to the side and eyed me like a curiosity. “Are you jealous?”

“What? Me? No,” I said. “I can’t be jealous. We’re not dating.”

“No, we aren’t. That hasn’t changed, has it?”

“No.” I tried not to express the regret I felt. “That hasn’t changed. I’m still trying to get my life in order.”

“Then you don’t mind if I take your cousin out to dinner.”

I swallowed hard. “No. I don’t mind.”

“Good, because we’re going out tonight.”

“You didn’t waste any time there,” I muttered under my breath.

“What’s that?” he asked, his electric blue gaze watching me knowingly.

“I said have a good time.” I sent him an insincere smile. “I’m off to mingle. See if you can’t get Mark Blackmore to give up the info we need to save Tim.”

“Trust me, Toni, I’m doing everything I can to help your brother.”

“I certainly hope so.”

“S
o you weren’t able to get anything out of Blackmore?” Tasha asked. It was after nine and the bakery was closed. Tasha was working the front desk of the Red Tile Inn. Kip was asleep on a cot in the manager’s office.

“No.” I shook my head and rolled the wheeled desk chair I sat in over to the office doorway to help keep an eye on Kip. “I wish you would move back in with me,” I said wistfully. “Then Kip wouldn’t have to come to work with you.”

“I can’t impose on you anymore,” Tasha said. “Kip loves being with me. Besides, if Calvin weren’t working second shift he’d watch Kip. He is good to us both.”

“Yeah,” I said sincerely. “I know he’s one of the good ones.”

“It’s so strange to say that and really mean it. I was afraid I was falling back into the same old bad judgment. But then I looked into his eyes and saw this big heart. For the first time ever, I knew it was going to be all right.”

“Good for you,” I said and patted her hand. I kept my
fingers crossed that Calvin Bright was the good man Tasha deserved.

“As for Blackmore Brothers Security, I can tell you who came in the night of the murder,” Tasha said as she went to the front desk computer.

“You can?”

“Sure, the guys all have a code. We mark them in and out. It’s a fail-safe for the company. If something goes wrong while his guys are on duty, Blackmore knows who to contact.”

“Wait! You mean you know who was on duty while the murder happened? How come you are only just now mentioning this?”

“Oh, I did mention it to Calvin.” She did some typing and a name popped up on the screen. “It’s security guard number eight-two-six-seven-four.”

“Okay.” I drew my eyebrows together in confusion. “Do you have a name to go with the number?”

“No.” Tasha pursed her lips and moved them to the side. “All we ever get is the number. I know most of the guys by name, but I don’t pay attention to their numbers or who comes in on certain days. Their schedules seem odd. So we just swipe in their numbers and move on. As long as someone swipes in, we’re happy.”

“So anyone with a Blackmore badge could come in and swipe the number and pretend to be security.”

“Well, I hadn’t thought of it that way. The security guys are always local. It’s one of those things you take for granted.”

“So number eight-two-six-seven-four was on duty that night.” I wrote the number on a piece of notepaper with
Red Tile Inn
and the address on it. “It’s something,” I said. “Calvin knows this number?”

“Sure, it was all part of the investigation that night.” Tasha shrugged. “I trust Calvin to check it out.”

“Okay.” I folded the paper and put it in my pocket. “What are you doing for Christmas? Can you come over Christmas Eve or Christmas Day?”

“We have church and Christmas dinner with my mom on Christmas Day.”

“I’m having an open house Christmas Eve. You and Kip and Calvin are invited. The house opens at six
P.M
. and I’ll shut it all down at eleven thirty so that anyone who wants to can go to midnight service.”

“Okay, sounds like fun.”

“There’s something under the tree for Kip,” I said with a smile.

“You were able to Christmas shop during all this?” Tasha looked surprised.

“Thank goodness for online shopping,” I said. “The stores are always open.”

“I love to shop online,” Tasha said with a dreamy look in her eyes. “Right now I’m saving pennies.” She straightened. “There’s this small house on Second Street I’m looking at. Calvin knows a banker who can get me a good mortgage at a rate I can afford. It would be good for Kip to have an anchor in his life. A house would help with that.”

“What about Aubrey?” I asked.

“There’s a fenced-in backyard—perfect for the dog.”

“Oh, well, wonderful,” I said. “Then Kip will get to take his puppy home.”

“Wait, you’re going to miss him, aren’t you?” Tasha came over and hugged me. “You can come visit him anytime. Okay?”

“Sure, thanks.” I patted her back. In a few short weeks I had gotten used to the big dog wandering underfoot and leaving giant fur balls that needed to be vacuumed every day. I tried not to imagine how quiet the house would be without Tasha, Kip, or Aubrey. “I’ve got some work to do.” I rose. “Thanks for the visit. I’d love to see the house sometime.”

“Oh, I’d love to have you do a walk-through with me. We can think about decorating it. You do like to paint, right?”

We both laughed. Tasha had helped me paint the soft fat stripes on the front walls of Baker’s Treat. My stripes were a mess, as I relied on painter’s tape to keep my edges clean. Meanwhile, Tasha barely colored out of the lines. Her stripes were done twice as fast and twice as well.

I pulled on my hat, puffy coat, gloves, and scarf. It hadn’t snowed since the big storm, but it was still bitter cold. The windchill was in the negative numbers. The last thing I wanted was to get frostbite on top of everything else.

All bundled up, I waved my good-byes and got into the van. One of the first things I was going to do after making tomorrow’s baked goods was a little investigation. I had the list of places where rooms had been rented in Tim’s name. Maybe, just maybe, security guard number 82674 had worked those nights. There had to be a pattern to this madness. If there was, then I was determined to discover it.

*   *   *

F
unny thing about the days after a storm that closes the roads: everyone has to get out and see the damage. The sun shone brightly against the snow, producing a terrifying glare. The sky was an honest blue—one so clear you could almost see the stars. Luckily the bakery was busy. People needed a place to go after being cooped up for so long.

Meghan made coffee and worked the counter while I made up extra batches of donuts, muffins, Danish, and tarts. The pie and cake orders rose to a record level. It gave me hope, and I tried not to think about how I would get it all done by the requested pickup time. I’d worked twenty-four hours straight before and I could do it now.

Sam came in during a lull just after lunchtime. He teased Meghan about her vintage day dress and combat boots. Then
he walked into the kitchen and all the air went out of the room. I smiled like a fool.

“Meghan said I was family and could hang out in the kitchen with the cool kids,” he teased. Then he helped himself to a coffee mug and poured thick black brew into his cup.

“You are her uncle,” I said casually. “I suppose that makes you family.”

He reached over and snagged two chocolate cookies off the day-old trays. His presence made the kitchen feel small and had my entire body tingling in anticipation. Which was silly, I told myself. It was all because I hadn’t slept. Then I turned to find him standing right behind me. “Oh!”

“Sorry,” he said, giving me that practiced smile.

“No, you aren’t,” I accused him. The heat from his body teased my senses. It really had been a long time since I had been so close to a man. There was something tempting about it. I wanted to lean into him and rest my head against his broad shoulder and take comfort in the touch of another human being.

“You’re exhausted,” he said, his sexy gaze taking in every inch of my face.

“It’s the busy time for the bakery.”

He reached up and tucked a wayward lock of hair behind my ear. I stood very still. It took a lot of effort not to curl into his touch like a cat. “Hire more help,” he said firmly. “It does no one any good if you exhaust yourself.”

“I know, but honestly . . . I can’t afford to hire anyone. I’m barely making the bills.”

He frowned. “Ask your family to help. It’s why you have a large family.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“You know I’m right. What’s kept you from asking for help? Hmm? Pride? Are you too proud to ask for help?”

I winced and this time pressed my forehead into his
shoulder so he couldn’t see the tears that welled up in my eyes. He put down his cup and the purloined cookies and held me against him. Running his hands up and down my back, he worked magic, and the stiffness and worry melted off me. I sighed. “Eleanor has been waiting for me to fail. Joan thinks gluten-free is a fad that will fade. Richard advised me to not invest in a storefront in a small town.”

“And you’re worried they were all right,” he finished as he rubbed my back.

“Any start-up has its up and down moments,” I said as I eased farther into his sturdy warm body. “You have to expect to not make a profit for at least three years.”

“You won’t make three years if you exhaust yourself in the first six months.” He walked me over to the kitchen table and pulled a chair out for me. “Sit.”

I opened my mouth to protest.

He placed his index finger on my lips. “The world won’t end if you take a fifteen-minute break.”

I sat down and he poured me coffee, put in a splash of cream, and brought over a small plate with my fiber-rich apple cinnamon muffins.

“Here, drink this and eat these. I happen to know from a very reliable person that these particular gluten-free muffins are a good source of protein, fiber, and carbohydrates.”

I couldn’t help the smile that crossed my face. “You are a good man, Sam Greenbaum.”

“I’m a handyman; it means I’m handy to have around.” He winked and sat down beside me.

I laughed and teased back. “I’ve yet to see how good your hands are.”

He threw his head back and laughed. It was a full, deep, wonderful sound that warmed me to my toes. “Well, now we’re going to have to fix that.” He reached over, took my hand, kissed my fingertips, then waggled his eyebrows. “Ready to date yet?”

“Oh, I’m ready,” I said with a long sigh. “But the year isn’t up yet.”

“Why a year?” he asked.

“Because I wanted to take the time to get to know myself again. I think maybe you need time to undo all those bad habits that got you into trouble the first time.”

“So it wasn’t all Eric’s fault?”

“Oh, Eric was a cheating, lying, bad guy,” I said with no bitterness in my voice. “But I refused to see it. I believe in seeing the best in people. That gets me into trouble—especially when I shrug off the truth.”

“And what truth is that?” His gaze was warm and interested.

“The truth that while everyone has good parts, they also have bad. I have to face the good and the bad when I’m in a relationship. I need to figure out how those good and bad parts fit in with my good and bad parts.”

“You have bad parts?” His mouth twitched and his eyes shone.

“I do.” I smiled back, then got serious. “The trick is to find someone who helps you make the bad parts better. You know?”

“You are an intelligent woman, Toni Holmes.” He took a big bite out of his chocolate cookie. “And an excellent baker.”

I laughed. “It would be even better if I could be both things at the same time.”