Muffins & Murder (Sweet Bites Book 3) (Sweet Bites Mysteries) (14 page)

I was in; now came the hard part.

When Brenda returned, she had two glasses with ice and something that looked like lemonade. “I thought we could both use a drink. The weather’s been unusually warm for November.”

I accepted the glass and took a sip. It tasted like it came from fresh lemons—not a mix. “This is excellent. Do you have a lemon tree?” So maybe I was nosy too.

“Mrs. Wood down the block has one. She’s not much for cooking, bless her heart, so she shares them with everyone else. There’s just nothing as refreshing as a glass of lemonade.”

I agreed. “Did Francine get along with the rest of the neighbors, or was it her hatred of cats that was the problem between you two?” I asked after a moment.

“She seemed to get along with everyone fine enough, I guess. If she would have left my babies alone, I wouldn’t have had a problem with her.” She seemed to reconsider. “Well, that and all the birds.”

I lifted a brow, curious about where this was going. “I noticed all the bird feeders at her house.”

“And there are half a dozen more out back.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s not enough that she had those big trees the birds like to nest in. Oh no—she had to add a bunch of feeders and birdbaths to lure them into the yard. Then they leave droppings on my sidewalk and patio furniture. They chirp at five in the morning right outside my window, waking me up much earlier than I like. And they tease my cats.” This last was said with such venom, it was clear it was the worst of the birds’ sins.

I’d never heard of a bird taunting a cat before—besides Tweety Bird—but I supposed it was possible. Dogs could play keep-away, after all. “And she didn’t like cats?”

“No, she always complained that one of my toms would chase the birds and sometimes kill them, stalking her big feeder. But I ask you, what’s a cat to do with all those birds flying around? They’re
cats
. Of course they’re going to try to catch a few. It’s not like the birds have names or that there aren’t plenty more where these came from.”

I nodded. “And your cats are obviously your babies.” She had about four too many “babies” in my opinion, and I had the sneaking suspicion there were more lurking about the house.

“Exactly.” Her voice lowered. “I think she killed a couple of my sweethearts. The ones that went for her big feeder a lot would suddenly disappear one day, and she went on like normal with that butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-my-mouth smile, as if nothing had happened. But I know better. She probably buried them in her yard. If you went back there now and dug up those flower beds, they’d be full of cat skeletons.” She sniffled despite the indignation in her brows. “I’ve told the police about it, but they won’t even check to see what’s going on. They’re useless, I tell you.”

“That must be very distressing for you.” And I understood why she disliked Fran so much, if she really thought Fran had killed her cats. Personally, I found it unlikely. I finished off the lemonade I’d been sipping and set the glass on a nearby coaster. “One of our other friends said Fran seemed to be nervous, afraid of someone, but Fran never said who she was afraid of. Have you seen anyone, anything that might hint at who it might have been?”

Brenda tipped her head as if searching through her memory. “Well, there’s that Cole guy. He’s been really persistent in trying to get her to go out with him, even when she told him to go away. I’m surprised she never got a restraining order on him, even though he’s such a nice boy. And I remember when he took the school football team to the state championship. We never would have done that without him, you know. My Mikey played with him the year before and I still go to the games.”

That didn’t surprise me, as the whole town practically shut down when the football team played. It was a pity the other sports didn’t garner as much attention. “I know Cole was a little obsessed,” I admitted, knowing it was an understatement.

“A little? The man used to drive by the house really slow in the evenings—sometimes every half an hour or so. I think he was checking to see if she had another man in there. She never did, though. She kept to herself, as far as dating was concerned. She would have been much happier if she’d found a man.”

I considered what Tingey would say if I told Brenda about Cole. I decided I better keep my mouth shut. “As much as I’d like to blame Cole, if only to put an end to this whole situation, I don’t think he did it.”

“Me either. He is such a
nice
boy. He’s helped me bring in groceries from the car several times, you know. So thoughtful. And he likes cats.”

“I hear you notice things that go on around here. Surely you’ve seen something that might help the cops find Francine’s killer?” I wasn’t holding out hope that Brenda would have anything else useful to share, but getting her attention off Cole might net something.

She pressed her hand to her chest now, as if to calm her over-exerted heart. “I don’t know. Like I told the police, Francine and I didn’t really talk, and I haven’t seen anyone out of place in the past month or so. I mean, this is a quiet neighborhood. There’s a dead end about five more houses down—it made it so obvious that Cole was checking on her. I never saw anyone else at her house, or pay her much mind, really. I wish I could help.”

Disappointment filled me and I nodded. “Thanks so much for taking a few minutes to talk to me.” I pulled out one of my business cards. “If you think of anything else, I’d really appreciate it if you’d give me a call or stop in to the bakery. Or call Detective Tingey,” I added as an afterthought.

She studied my card. “You own Sweet Bites. Well, that explains why you look so familiar. I was at the fitness center opening. That was an amazing cake. I was thinking about doing a cake for Xander’s birthday. He’s turning twenty next month, you know.”

“Is Xander your son?” There was no indication that a man lived here, but at twenty he could be in college.

“No, he’s the cat sunning on the sidewalk. It’s a big birthday for a cat, you know. They hardly ever make it to twenty.”

I forced a smile. “I’ll certainly be happy to decorate something for Xander if you choose to go that way. Come by my shop and we’ll find something that works for you.” I wasn’t counting on it. I wasn’t even sure I wanted her business. What would we make the cake out of—chopped liver? I stood and she saw me to the door.

“Thanks again, and for the lemonade. It was terrific,” I said.

She beamed at me—a total turnaround from her original scowl. As I glanced back over my shoulder at her, two more cats—white this time—chased from the hall to the living room. I tried to block out thoughts of scooping litter boxes, but wasn’t totally successful.

Dead end city. Now what?

I was still mulling over the non-information I’d gotten from Brenda when the mailman arrived. I was happy to see him—and even happier that it looked like I’d have a minute to pick his brain so I wouldn’t have to make a run to the post office to ask my questions. I had a store full of customers sipping their lattés and savoring sweet treats, and the hum of talk filled the air. I hoped that would help cover our conversation. I added another squeeze of clear liquid dish soap to the sanitizer bucket, hoping I got a break to wipe down the counters soon and set them both aside. “Hey, how are things going today? Running behind, aren’t you?” I asked him.

“The truck came late and there was a bigger stack of mail than usual,” Ben said. “I’m thinking piña colada today, and my usual cappuccino. How are you?” He set my mail in the stacker tray that was just reachable from the customer side of the counter.

“Great, busy. I have a question,” I said as I opened the display case door. “Do you deliver mail to the neighborhood where Francine lived?”

His smile dimmed a little and he nodded. “Yeah.”

I bagged his cupcake and moved to the cappuccino machine. “Did she ever get letters that didn’t have a postmark?”

His brow furrowed. “Not that I noticed. We get them sometimes, but it’s fairly unusual these days.” He dug into his pocket for his wallet. “Not like it was a decade ago.”

“How do things get through the system without a postmark? I thought they all went through those machines that put bar codes on them.” I was mulling over Emma’s words. It would make sense that they had just been added to the box after the mail carrier left, especially if it was easy to access—maybe the mail carrier hadn’t actually brought that letter, maybe it had already been in the box and they got mixed together. But wouldn’t someone have noticed a stranger in the neighborhood? I was sure Brenda would have noticed here, in any case, whether her neighbors in Abilene did or not.

“Sometimes they’re hand-canceled. Sometimes in small offices like Silver Springs the letter doesn’t always make it through the machine. What’s the deal? Trying to send an anonymous message to someone? You have a secret crush?” His brows waggled at me.

I grinned. “No, just curious. Someone where Francine used to live said she sometimes got envelopes without postmarks. It’s kind of odd.” I stirred the finished drink and capped it with a plastic lid. “But as you say, it’s not that uncommon, so it’s probably nothing.” I wasn’t sure I believed that, but I didn’t want to make too big of a deal about it.

He passed over his money and I rang him up. “Well, thanks for the snacks. Have a good day.”

“You too.” I waved to him before turning to the next customer, half of my mind still on the conversation. The thing that really bothered me was why the stalker bothered to use a postage stamp?

Weird.

I decided to think about it more later. When I wasn’t running low on macaroons.

The stream of customers didn’t slow down for the next two hours. People came and went, some lingered and Marge stopped in for an afternoon snack. Thankfully, she wiped down the tables for me, since there hadn’t been time for me to get out there, and with several people standing at my cash register, I didn’t see that changing anytime soon.

“Busy,” she said as she passed back the towel.

“No kidding.” I really wanted a break to work on a birthday cake I had to deliver that evening. However, Lenny had taken off for a few hours to accompany Kat to pick up her family from the airport—it would be the first time he’d met anyone besides her mom. I checked my watch. “Lenny should be back soon, then I’ll be able to catch my breath.”

Marge smiled as she settled at her table to enjoy the cookies she’d bought.

“Hello,” Mary Ellen called to me as she came in the door a while later. “I came in for my cookie.” She looked around her. “It’s busy in here today.”

I hurried up front. I’d been cleaning up the mixing bowl from my latest batch of cookies. “It sure is,” I agreed, cursing her timing. “Probably because Lenny’s out for a couple of hours. It always seems to get busier when I’m the only one here,” I joked.

“Isn’t that the truth?” she asked. “I swear the minute the rest of the city’s staff takes off for lunch, the phone starts to ring off the hook.” She looked better now than she had the previous night, and not just because she wore her usual business attire and makeup. She was somehow more confident and I hoped our talk the night before had reassured her.

“What can I get for you?” I asked, needing to get back to pull the cupcakes out of the oven soon.

She studied the display case for a moment. “A black and white cookie, I think. I hear there was a development in the case this morning.” She said without a segue, and sent me a significant look. “I guess that’s what happens when you stick your nose into places it doesn’t belong. He was making such a ruckus.”

I felt my brows lift in surprise. First because her comment was uncharacteristically biting and second because she knew about Cole. She did work in the city offices, so I supposed she overheard a lot of things that weren’t common knowledge, but I hadn’t expected her to find out yet. “Yes. It’s a terrible thing. And means re-evaluating all of the suspects again.” I passed over her cookie and admired the oddly large and flashy blue jewel on her ring. It seemed out of character for her, even though it complimented her large hands well. “Nice bling. When did you get it?”

She tipped her hand to smile at it. “It was my grandmothers’. She died last year. I wear it when I need a pick-me-up; after our talk last night, I’m already feeling better.”