A Crouton Murder Page 3

  We discussed her father’s hospital stay, chuckled over the fact he would likely have a conniption fit over the room change, and then discussed whose head would roll when he was well enough to return to work. He’d likely be upset over not having the very best medical benefits money could buy for a person in his position.

  “Can I have a couple rolls to take home? I’m hungry again,” BettyJo said as she sniffed the rolls.

  I pulled a bowl of butter from the fridge, set it in front of her, and dropped a few rolls on a plate that I handed to her. “Enjoy,” I said with a smile and watched her slather butter into the center of a roll and munch it thoughtfully.

  Around a mouthful, she asked, “It’s curious isn’t it, that my father wouldn’t have the best of the best?”

  “Funny, I was just thinking the same exact thing.”

  Before I knew it, BettyJo had bundled her rolls into a napkin and said she’d see me in the morning. She left me to consider what bothered her about her father’s care, who would want to poison him, and if he was indeed the intended target. I yawned, tossed the towel onto the counter, and readied the next batch of dough for baking.

  Chapter 3

  As customers are wont to do, they will make requests for bread you didn’t make. Today seemed to be filled with a solid round of those requests. After the fifth customer grumbled over the fact there was no flat bread to be had, I threw my hands in the air and shook my head while I rolled my eyes. Maybe I needed a crystal ball, though the one at BettyJo’s gave me the creeps.

  “Melina, you can’t guess what will be the most popular with our customers. Don’t be upset,” Seanmhair advised with a crooked smile. “You could start a bakery in Scotland, you know.” She winked and scurried through the swinging doors into the storefront with a chuckle.

  Sure, I could have done that, but why would I when I’m an American who’s happy living in America? I shook my head with a smile and went back to work. It was plain that Seanmhair would have liked to relocate to her family’s homeland. Whether she’d truly be happy there was another matter. My grandmother had a slew of friends. Some were card playing buddies, others a bad influence on her, but all together, they would miss her and she them.

  Water splashed, soap suds scattered, and the dishwasher went berserk. I rushed toward the wildly flowing mess and shut the machine down. Seanmhair came through the double swinging doors and stopped short, a horrified look on her face.

  I glanced at her and asked, “When you set this up, how much soap did you add?”

  She shrugged a shoulder and muttered, “Apparently a bit more than I should have. Sorry, Melina.” She stepped toward the mop and bucket tucked into a corner.

  I barred her actions and recommended that she return to our clientele. Seanmhair gave me a sweet-faced smile, turned on her heel, and quickly marched through the door without a word. It was all I could do not to smile at her waddling, gnome-like figure. I loved her dearly, but she did give me stressful moments. This was one of them.

  The mop and pail got a workout as I soaked up the soapy water and squeezed the daylights out of the mop again and again. Finally finished, I washed pans by hand, ran an empty dishwasher cycle through the machine. If nothing else, the floor was squeaky clean.

  I’d put the floor cleaning materials aside when I heard laughter from the sales room. Now what had Seanmhair gotten up to? She seemed happy to see someone, so the situation couldn’t have been of the bad variety. I peeked through the glass porthole in one side of the swinging door and gasped. Aidan Sinclair had arrived. My pulse hiked and my heart raced as excitement shot through me. His deep blue eyes, rich dark hair, strong features, and gorgeous smile left me weak-kneed.

  I swung through the doors. “What are you doing here? I thought you had business in Scotland?” I asked the tall, devilishly handsome Scot standing at the counter bantering with my grandmother.

  His eyes met mine as he whisked me off my feet in a huge bear hug, gave me a kiss to the cheek, and laughed. “Lass, I coodna stay away.”

  He couldn’t stay away from me? I chortled when he set me down and asked, “Are you sure this visit to the States isn’t about business?”

  “Both. Once you left, the house felt empty. I doon’t think I can manage without ye ’round.” Aidan studied me from head to toe, appreciation in his eyes as he tucked a stray wisp of my brown hair behind my ear.

  Holy moly, this was more than he’d admitted when we’d been at his home. A tad surprised, I gaped at him. Was he truly captivated by me? A month or so ago, I wouldn’t have questioned his words, but while we’d been in Scotland, Aidan hadn’t acted besotted as he did now. I found it hard to accept the sincerity of his admission. Could it be that I was reluctant because he meant more to me than I was ready to admit to?

  I drew him into the kitchen as customers popped into the shop. Seanmhair stood behind the counter asking what they would like. I pulled Aidan to me by his jacket lapels and kissed him soundly.

  When we parted, he grinned and asked, “Missed me that much, have you, lass?”

  “Uh huh, I have.”

  Briefly, he held me to him and then glanced around the room. He whistled softly. “The fellas did a good job, then. Looks like your bakery is back on its feet, eh?”

  I nodded, asked if he wanted a sandwich, and made him one when he said yes.

  While he ate, I sat across from him, drinking in the sight of his handsome face and gorgeous eyes. Aidan was a kind and decent man, even though doubts about him niggled at me now and again.

  He wiped his mouth on a napkin and leaned away from the table. “I hear you’ve gotten yourself into another right mess, lass. What can I do to help?”

  “Nothing at the moment. I’m not sure who the intended victim was, nor does the detective handling the case.”

  “Who is that?

  “Detective Anderson. You met him briefly before you returned to Scotland. Gray eyes, medium height, light hair.”

  “I remember. He was helpful in apprehending Mrs. Peterson’s killer.”

  “That’s him. So, tell me why you’re here in the States again so soon.”

  “I told you already. I couldn’t stay away, and there are beer distribution details to be settled. The state has approved my applications, so I can go ahead with my plans to bring the Sinclair brand to the States.”

  I smiled at his excitement. When he looked at me the way he did right now, my doubts disappeared as quickly as raindrops dried by the sun. Why did I have them and what were they, exactly? With a mental shake of my head, I filled his tea cup once more and listened to him talk of his good luck in securing a license.

  Shop hours were nearing an end. I’d watched the clock off and on while I’d worked and knew that Seanmhair would pop in any moment and declare the bakery closed for the day. I’d no sooner had the thought when she came through the door and made her announcement. She handed me the money she’d collected from the register drawer and stuffed into a zippered bag before she wiggled onto a stool next to Aidan.

  They talked of the highlands, of our visit, and her ideas concerning a bakery in Scotland. He gave me a questioning look when Seanmhair came out with her thoughts. I shook my head, rolled my eyes, and watched his grin widen.

  “You’ve got a mind to return to the homeland, eh, Sean?”

  He’d taken to calling her Sean, spoken as shen, while we were in Scotland. It was endearing, and I chuckled when he did so. Not many got away with that sort of thing. She demanded to be addressed as Seanmhair or as Mrs. Cameron. That she allowed Aidan to get away with a nickname, was a sure sign that she’d fallen under his spell as surely as I had.

  “There will be no moving our bakery to Scotland or anywhere else, Seanmhair. We’ve had this discussion before,” I said and smiled.

  “It would be good for you to find your roots, Melina,” Seanmhair responded.

  “My roots are here in America. I was born here and like living here.”

  “So you say . . .”

/>   Hopefully, I asked, “Aren’t you playing cards this afternoon?”

  She nodded, gave Aidan a wink, and said she hoped to see him again soon.

  We watched her gather her jacket, purse, and hat before she waddled toward the door and out to her car. When she’d driven away, Aidan and I looked at one another and laughed.

  “She’s a test, yeah?”

  With a sigh, I nodded.

  “Are you back to holding classes in the evenings?” he asked.

  “Not yet,” I answered. “Though I’ve had a call from a past student or two, I’ll give it some time before I begin them again. Our rent is affordable at the moment, no one is trying to scam any of us renters out of more money, and the bakery is making a profit. I think we’re in good standing financially.”

  “Then you’re able to go out with me tonight?”

  His invitation brought a thrill of anticipation with it. I caught the mischievous sparkle in his eyes, wondered what he was up to, and nodded.

  “Good, I’ll pick you up at seven,” Aidan said as we walked toward the storefront.

  Holding the door open, I said I’d be ready and watched him saunter toward South Main Street. I thought how different our cultures are. In other countries, people walk as much as they can due to the cost of fuel or they use public transit. In America, we drive nearly everywhere and usually dislike using public transit.

  I’d just locked the store entrance when BettyJo dashed through the rear entry. This was becoming a habit.

  “You look like the devil is on your heels. Is your father okay?” I asked worriedly.

  She ignored the comment and question with a grin and asked, “Was that Aidan who just walked across the street?”

  “He’s here on business.”

  “Some business,” she said with a snort of disbelief. “I think you’re the business he’s interested in, Melina. Has Seanmhair seen him?”

  “She did and even pitched the idea of us moving to Scotland and opening a bakery.” I groaned. “As if that’s ever going to happen. She has no clue how difficult that would be,” I remarked with a sigh.

  “Is she serious or daydreaming?”

  “She’s beguiled by the whole idea of living in Scotland. She hasn’t any concept of what her change in lifestyle would be, let alone the amount of work it would take to establish a bakery there.”

  “Maybe she thinks you’d marry Aidan and wouldn’t need to be a baker,” BettyJo suggested in a pensive tone.

  “Not happening, no Scotland bakery and no marriage. End of story,” I said adamantly.

  Her hands up, BettyJo laughed and said, “Sure, sure, no problem.”

  To change the subject, I asked, “How are your readings going? You haven’t been by all day.”

  “They began at eleven this morning and just ended. I start again tonight around six and have clients lined up for a few hours. I’m booked for weeks, isn’t that great?” she asked excitedly.

  “Indeed,” I agreed. “How’s Franklin today?”

  “He’s home from the hospital and quite miffed over the medical insurance issue. I picked him up early this morning. He says he’ll return to work tomorrow. I didn’t argue. It wouldn’t do any good.” BettyJo wandered the rooms in the same manner as she had the night before. I watched and waited for her to settle across from me once more.

  When she sat, BettyJo took a deep breath and said, “I think someone’s been following me. If that’s not bad enough, I also think Ezra and Corinda tried to kill my father.”

  I gaped at her for a time and asked, “Are you sure? I mean, about someone following you.”

  “It’s just a feeling I get when I’m out. When I turn around quickly, nobody is there, or if there are people around, they aren’t paying attention to me in particular. It’s creepy.”

  “Not long ago I mentioned Vinnie Esposito to you. She’s a criminal justice instructor who, on occasion, works with the local police. She can give you some pointers on personal safety. I’ll give her a call if you’d like.”

  “Don’t bother. I’m probably just imagining the whole thing. My father’s situation has me a mite jumpy.” BettyJo sighed, ran her hand across her brow, and asked, “What do you think about Ezra and Corinda?”

  “I’m not sure,” I said with a shake of my head. “I don’t know enough about them to make assumptions.”

  “Who would have control over his medical? Corinda, that’s who. She runs that entire department at the bank. She alone decides who gets what. Dad mentioned it weeks ago. He said he had confidence in her, that she handled everything with aplomb.” BettyJo shrugged. “I didn’t take offense like I would have before we talked out our differences. She’s hot for him, or his money. I can tell and the cards say so, too. I didn’t want to cause trouble, so I didn’t mention that Corinda might be skimming money from employee medical accounts.”

  While I processed the information she’d been holding in, I looked everywhere but at BettyJo. When I did, I found her staring at me. “You didn’t share this last night, but all that was on your mind while I was making bread, wasn’t it?”

  She gave me a nod. “The memory of her ambition came back as I paced these rooms. Corinda has been my father’s escort to dinners, parties, and all that business crap, for years. For her to consider she’d take a seat as his wife would be natural. It probably wouldn’t ever happen, but she might have thought it would. If he brushed her off when an overture to that effect was made, then she could have been vengeful and sought retribution for having given up so many years of her life to his every whim. I don’t think she’d take kindly to being rejected.”

  Astounded over how well she’d thought the probability out, I sat speechless. I didn’t utter a sound.

  BettyJo asked, “Do you think I’m off the mark, or what?”

  “Gosh, I’m not sure what to think. What would be the reason for her meddling in his benefits package? While what you’ve said seems plausible, ask yourself if she’d resort to murder as revenge for your father’s rejection of her? We aren’t even sure he’s done so or that there’s a romance between them. I didn’t see any sign of it at your get together,” I answered.

  A thought bloomed like the proverbial light bulb flashing on. “Why don’t you two have a chat and mention how lovely a couple he and Corinda would make. Watch his reaction and listen carefully to the way in he speaks of her. Oftentimes, the sound of a voice conveys so much more than words will.”

  “That shouldn’t be too hard to accomplish. We’re having coffee in about an hour or so, and then I have to get back here.” BettyJo stepped away from the table. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

  While BettyJo set off, I considered her words and my wardrobe, but not necessarily in that order. I more or less mulled over both my clothing status and Corinda’s romantic status. With a grimace, I figured BettyJo would take care of the Corinda issue. Even though BettyJo wasn’t keen about Vinnie, I’d call her anyway about the handling of a stalker. Right now, I had a more pressing concern—what to wear for my dinner date with Aidan.

  I’d dropped outfits on the bed after I draped each one across my body and evaluated their possibilities in the full-length mirror attached to the inside of my closet door. Navy blue, raisin brown, and full-on black made up my final choices. Raisin brown won the vote. I slid the other clothes back onto the closet pole. When BettyJo had so kindly pointed out I was curvaceous, she’d undoubtedly meant that I had a bit of fluff going on where my shape was concerned. I’d never be rail thin and didn’t strive for it, but I struggled to maintain my weight. Eating the bread I baked certainly wasn’t helpful in the weight department. I refused to wear clothing that didn’t fit correctly. Instead, I made sure they hugged my body without being tight and uncomfortable. Too often I’d seen women dress in clothes two sizes too small or too big.

  I tried on the outfit, chose accessories, and whirled in front of the mirror. Happy with the look, I disrobed and headed for the shower.

  Chapter 4
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  Butterflies danced in my stomach while I waited for Aidan. He slowed the Mercedes and stopped at the curb. I’d buckled into the passenger seat and marveled at the smooth ride as we moved up the street.

  Aidan scanned my outfit and offered a pleasing smile. He said an associate of his had invited us to a dinner party. He cut through several back streets, hit Waterman Street, and drove slowly through the Brown University district.

  Aidan had popped my balloon with his news. No private dinner date.

  “Oh, that’s nice,” I said feeling deflated.

  With a quick glance at me, he then directed his attention back to traffic. On college hill, the students tend to step into the street without regard for cars, trucks, or anything with wheels.

  “You don’t mind that I didn’t tell you earlier, do you?” Aidan appeared a tad uneasy. “I can call and cancel if you’d like.”

  Unwilling to be miserable about the party, I said, “No, no, don’t do that. I’m sure we’ll have a great time. Tell me, who are these people?”

  “They’re bankers and liquor suppliers, that sort of folk. I think you’ll get along fine.”

  Great, just how I wanted to spend my evening, listening to business talk, instead of sharing a candlelight dinner with the hunk sitting next to me. I took a breath and then smiled at Aidan. Things could be worse. I might be sitting at home, alone, thinking of what breads to make for the morning shoppers. Instead, I was in a beautiful car with a devilishly handsome man. Life doesn’t get much better than this, right?

  He idled into a parking spot in front of a huge house. A porch wrapped around one end, surrounded by lush flower gardens most would give their eye-teeth to have. This was an area where old family money constituted the rich and famous in Providence.

  The owners obviously loved being in the city, otherwise they’d have moved to the outer reaches of Rhode Island to avoid the humungous tax bills that Providence was known for. I glanced around the neighborhood. Beautiful, historic homes nestled next to one another, like great, old friends. Some had carriage houses in the rear yard, others held triple door garages. All of them spoke of abundant wealth. Inside this house, lights beamed through the windows. Guests bobbed to and fro as though on a carousel ride. I smiled at the thought and left the car when Aidan opened the door for me.