The next morning, I was alone in the kitchen of the restaurant I co-owned with Ava, Cast Iron Creations, preparing some dishes for the day. I’d just finished making some of the standards for my morning regulars that would be coming in within the hour and getting a few things ready for lunch later. Next, I started a batch of cast iron monkey bread. I had experimented with the recipe in my new kitchen at home. Since I got started later than I anticipated due to a stomachache, I opted not to make these from scratch. I searched our large fridge and freezer, pushing fresh spring veggies and fruits to the side.
“YES!” I hissed to myself, lifting a knee and pumping an elbow as if tooting a train whistle after finding several canisters of store-bought biscuits.
As I opened the first canister, pulled the dough out, and sprinkled a bit of flour and a little pumpkin pie spice into the batter for a homemade kick, I thought back to the trip Ava and I took to Santo Domingo last year to help her family out of a jam. We’d uncovered two Latinx families that had a history of mafia activities—the Perezes and the Sanchezes. Now, someone named Sanchez is opening a bakery here in Leavensport. Coincidence?
I began taking small chunks of the biscuit dough, dipping them into melted butter, then tossing them into a large plastic freezer bag, adding in granulated and brown sugar, cinnamon, and a bit more of the pumpkin pie spice. Then I closed the bag and shook the mix together.
The smell was amazing . . . at first—then my belly gurgled and I stepped back, putting a hand up to my nose and mouth. I took a deep breath and shook it off. This bug was not fun.
Well, I could take some of this monkey bread to Nina at her new bakery and discuss the cross-selling that we loved to do in the village so all of the businesses were supporting each other. Maybe Ava and I could find out a bit more about her past and where she came from—if it was the Dominican Republic, then chances were good she was a part of that family and that means she could be a part of smuggling things into our village for whatever reason these crooks seemed to be targeting our little town.
I laid the little balls of sweet and spicy dough next to each other in my large cast iron pan and placed them in the oven, then began whisking together the powdered sugar, cream, and vanilla in a separate bowl to get the drizzle ready to pour over the hot, buttery dough as soon as it came out of the oven. Regardless of how off my stomach was, my mouth still watered thinking about that drizzle taking form and hardening a bit on the dough and the flavors that would pop in my mouth when I tried a bite.
When I made it at home, Mick and I ate an entire pan of it in one sitting. It was insane to think back to last year when I went away with Ava to get space from Mick to help me figure out how I felt about him. In a short amount of time—that really felt a lot longer—he and I figured out we were soul mates and we never wanted to be apart from each other again.
I smiled widely staring off into space thinking about Mick’s dark, brown, soulful eyes—how he gave me a special look that I never saw him give anyone else and how my heart melted each time—
“Are you having a sex fantasy?”
I had been daydreaming while whisking the icing when Ava pulled me from my thoughts. I jumped, splattering icing onto Ava’s terra-cotta skin.
“Sorry!” I squealed, giggling.
Ava wiped the icing off her cheek with a finger and plopped it in her mouth, then her dark eyes widened. “YUM!” She leaned over the bowl with that same finger sticking out.
I snatched the icing away. “Back off, woman. This is for the customers—don’t contaminate it!”
“You’re no fun!”
“Here’s a tasting spoon.” I gave her one and took one myself as we both swiped a little glop of the sticky drizzle and let it hit our tongues. We closed our eyes and moaned simultaneously.
“So, were you doing the nasty with your guy this morning or something?”
“First off, no. Second, that is none of your business—but yes, I was fantasizing about his eyes.”
“You are SO boring! His eyes? I mean, I don’t swing that way, but he does have a fine behind!”
“Why are you looking at my husband’s butt? That’s just rude!” I went to wash my hands and pushed a mesh of tight, dirty blonde curls away from my blue eyes.
We heard someone knocking in the front and both looked at our watches. It was three minutes past opening time and the regulars were gathered around the door for the takeout they always took to work. Ava ran up front as I got the meals I had prepared off the warmers and put them into takeout containers.
“You started the coffee pots, right?” I yelled up after Ava.
“Of course I did!” she yelled back. I heard her opening the door and saying to the customers, “Sorry about that, Jolie was holding me up—you know how chatty she can be.”
I imagined her rolling her eyes as the regulars grinned to themselves, knowing I wasn’t the chatty one of the pair.
“Hey everyone!” I said, carrying a pile of boxes up front to the counter. Magda had come in and ran to the back office for her apron and ordering pad for those that were taking seats. Ava got large to-go coffee cups and filled them, then counted out the sugars and creamers for those that would need them.
Missy Smith and her eight-year-old daughter, Shelby, were the first in line. The mother-daughter pair were both cute as buttons and like BFF’s. “You both are busy—I need to ask you both something but it can wait.”
Missy nodded at me, then paid as Shelby gave Ava a high five and they headed out to the Leavensport Lions school district for the day.
I yelled after them, “Just text me and I’ll get back to you!”
She gave me a thumbs up as Bea and Earl Seevers came in and sat at their usual table. Things were hopping this morning.
A few hours later, business had calmed down and I checked my cell. Missy had texted asking if I would have time to meet her today or tomorrow. I can take a break now. I’d love to take a walk. Want to meet me somewhere? I messaged back.
I needed to fill Ava in on what had to be done in the kitchen while I was out with Missy. Ava seemed to be in a deep conversation with Bradley—once upon a time, he had been her beau…until she fell in love with his sister, Delilah. Luckily, everyone was able to work through the awkwardness and now the two were in-laws.
“Hey, Ava, I’m taking a break.”
Ava’s mouth continued to move, and she gave a half-nod in my direction.
“Ava, are you listening?”
Bradley looked from Ava to me, grinning uncomfortably as I gave him a preoccupied wave.
“There are enough biscuits left for eight more meals, then you’ll have to prep more. Ava—” I huffed hugging my waist. “AVA!”
Ava continued to ignore my yells, nodded and waved a dismissive hand at me.
Fine. Have fun figuring all of that out while I’m gone.
Missy was waiting for me by Moore’s Dance Studio, where she worked, and we walked through the village’s art alley. I brought a cup of freshly made sweetened sun tea for each of us as we took a stroll, enjoying the sunshine, warmer air, and the fresh green leaves showing us that winter had passed.
“So, what’s up?” I asked.
“Oh, it’s not a big deal,” Missy said, slurping some tea, “but as you know, I’m taking over prom duties this year with the new principal coming in last month.”
“Uh-huh, what happened to Mr. Marlo anyway? As much as the gossip flies around here, I can’t believe I’ve not heard the story.”
“He retired and moved to be with his kids in Florida. His daughter is having his first grandchild and he’s two years beyond retirement. He wanted to be there when the baby is born.”
“Oh wow, well that’s a great reason to leave early!” I exclaimed, realizing I had assumed that it was some ominous, dark reason and wondering if I’d been wrapped up in too many investigations the last couple of years. It was a breath of fresh air to hear some truly good news.
“Yeah, well, you know how new leaders love to change everything up. I do a lot of volunteer work at the high school with crafts and have helped in P.E. with some dance exercises—so, yeah, he decided he’d like a community member to take over this year’s prom to get it promoted outside of the school and get the community more involved. I’m sure he has some future plans, but who knows? Anyhoo, would you be up for volunteering to chaperone? He asked me to recruit some prominent community members and you are one of the first people I thought of since you are a big part of the cross-selling among our local businesses.” She bit her lip, looking like she thought I’d refuse on the spot.
“Of course. Put both me and Ava down. I’m not sure about Mick or Delilah, but I can wrangle Ava into it.” I knew it would turn into an issue, but what didn’t with Ava?
“Oh, that’s great. I was hoping you’d volunteer to ask Ava.” She giggled. “Mr. and Mrs. Seevers are going to chaperone too! Shelby asked them.”
“I’m sure they couldn’t say no to that sweet face.”
“Who can?” She shrugged her shoulders as we circled back to the restaurant.
“Not me, and obviously, I can’t say no to her mom either. Hey, you want some of our Cheesy Frittata with Spring Greens? I made some for brunch today. I can pack up a box for you on the house.” I motioned for her to follow me into the restaurant.
“You know I’m never turning down free food.” She followed me inside.
“Hey, Jolie,” Magda said. “Ava had to go home. She was feeling under the weather. We didn’t have many people in here so I told her I could handle it until you got back.”
“Okay,” I said, running back to pack a brunch box for Missy and carrying it back up. After Missy left, no one else was around, so I called Ava to check in.
“Do you need me to come back in?” Ava answered her cell with a question.
“Not if you’re sick!” I exclaimed, thinking I may need to take my own advice if this bug didn’t pass.
“I’m doing better. I could have stayed but I felt feverish for a bit and didn’t want to risk passing anything to anyone.”
Luckily, I wasn’t experiencing that. “I made some extra monkey bread that I put aside. I’m going to run over to Nina Sanchez’s bakery when Carlos comes in to take over the closing shift and see what I can find out.”
“Stop and pick me up on your way,” Ava said groggily.
“I’ll text then to see how you are feeling.”
“I just took some meds to help with the fever and I’m going to take a nap. I’ll text you when I wake up and let you know.”
Since there was a lull, I started prepping the dinner special for that night to save Carlos some time later. I pulled out the New York strip steaks I’d put in the fridge the night before and began patting them dry. I was adding some Kosher salt and cracked pepper to each side when there was a knock on the back door by the alley.
I washed my hands and ran to the back and cracked the door to see Lia standing outside, looking around. Lia’s actual name is Natalia, who unfortunately used to be married to Jackson Nestle—the man Ava and I were positive was behind so much crime in our little hamlet the last few years. Natalia had changed her name to Lia when she went into witness protection after leaving Nestle.
“Hey, come on in,” I said, taking a stool from the counter and dragging it back to the island where I continued working on the prep for my one-skillet steak dinner with spring veggies and Dijon glaze.
“That smells delish.” Lia took a seat.
“Thanks, you hungry?”
“I don’t turn down food.” Lia smiled, referring to when she skipped out on witness protection when she heard her ex, Nestle, was in Ohio, where her family is from, and took it upon herself to figure out that he was running the construction company that was building the new mall between Leavensport and Tri-City. She changed her name and her appearance, becoming unhoused and taking shelter in the tunnels that ran underground from Tri-City to Leavensport with a group of people that were also experiencing homelessness. Lia became a strong advocate for this group by the time she and I ran into each other in December. We worked together with the help of Mayor Nalini to get a shelter for unhoused residents in place between Tri-City and Leavensport. Yet another project that had kept me super busy since the holidays.
I grabbed a bowl and added some Thai chicken soup that was left over from last night’s dinner and some homemade banana bread that Betsy made for cross-selling and popped it in the microwave.
As I put it in front of her, she asked, “You aren’t having any?”
“Nah, I’m trying to fight off that stomach bug that seems to be going around town.” I continued to whisk some mustard and vinegar in with the garlic I’d just minced and put a dash of cayenne into the mix, then picked up a tasting spoon to taste for flavor.
Lia almost spit her soup out laughing. “Your stomach hurts but you taste that. You are a true chef.”
I grinned at the irony and shrugged. “So, what’s up?”
“Last week, Jackson came to the shelter to drop off boxes with clothes, blankets, pillows, and food.”
“What? Did he see you?” I asked, knowing that Lia put one of her friends in charge of running the shelter to keep her anonymity, but in actuality, she really ran the shelter.
“No, luckily, I was in the back warehouse and Devonte saw him first and texted me to stay there.”
Devonte was one of the people Lia helped and he was extremely protective of her. He was the only other person besides me and Ava who knew who she really was.
“Why on earth would that man do anything nice?”
“There’s something in it for him for sure. You better bet I personally went through every single box that he dropped off.”
“Did you find anything?”
“Not a thing, but I lived with him—trust me, I know that man always has ulterior motives.”
“I’ve never lived with him and I know that.” We had a mutual animosity for Jackson Nestle.
Lia finished up her soup and pulled her wallet out of her purse.
I shook my head. “Nope, it’s on the house today.”
“Thanks so much! I wanted to let you know what was going on in case you wanted to keep track of it. I know you and Ava told me he’s been up to no good with Delilah.
She was referring to Ava’s wife, Delilah, who owned two businesses in the art district—one of which Nestle now owned a stake in after taking advantage of a bad situation last year.
Also—” Lia paused. “I’m going to do some more snooping. I’ll be going back to being an unhoused resident to see if I can find out more about what those tunnels are actually used for.”
“I don’t like that idea at all. You’ve had too many close calls, not to mention you even living in this town puts you in danger.”
“What you said is the exact reason why I need to do this. He’s gotten away with way too much over the years. I know things that can bring him down but I need to get some proof to back it up.”
“Can’t you lay low while Ava and I find the time to sit down and review everything? We’ve been overwhelmed since the holidays with work, marriage, moving, and now we both are feeling under the weather. But let us handle this.”
We both looked up as Carlos came in the front of the shop and headed to the kitchen.
“I hope you feel better soon. Thanks again for chatting with me.” Lia got up and ducked back out the back as Carlos came through the swinging doors from the front.
I needed to find time to reach out to her before she did something that could put her life into more danger than it already was.
“You are prepping the steak special, I see,” Carlos said, putting on his apron and washing his hands before taking over for the late afternoon and evening shift.
It was difficult for me to accept that he had purchased some land and had plans to open a Mexican restaurant this summer. We were going to have to find a new chef for our little joint and I was going to miss him terribly.
“Yep, we were really busy when we opened this morning right into the lunch hour but then we hit a lull this afternoon. I don’t know what that means for you tonight,” I said, grinning at his Garfield tee that showed the orange tabby wolfing down a whole lasagna in one bite.
“I’m positive it’s busy tonight. Everyone loves the steak special. Thank you for starting it. I take over from here, though.”
Man, Carlos loved to cook as much as I did. We had quickly bumped him to an assistant manager as soon as we had the funds. He worked harder than we did half the time and took such pride in his work. I was thrilled for the opportunity for him to open his own place, but I was equally saddened too.
“How are Mary and Mirabelle doing?” His now wife, Mary, was the mother of Mirabelle, our hostess with the mostess, a twenty-something woman with Down Syndrome who always had her sidekick Spy, a cocker spaniel, to help her with her sight.
“They are good. Mary will be due with our son soon.” Carlos’ smile brightened the entire room.
“I know. You know you can take whatever time off you need when the baby comes right?”
“Hello?” we heard someone call out.
“Speak of the devil,” I said looking up to see Mary waddle through the swinging doors.
Carlos ran around the island to help her to a chair he pulled out of the office which she waved away. “She no devil, she my angel.”
“She was kidding Carlos—remember, we talked about American idioms? I need to stand and stretch my legs. I’ve been cooped up too long and Delilah came to take Mirabelle to do some crafts so I thought I’d drop by before running over to pick her up.” She reached down and rubbed her belly and had a distraught look on her face.
“Are you okay?” I asked moving to rub her arm in concern.
“Yeah, sometimes I wonder if I’m not catching that bug that’s going around or if it’s this baby boy inside me begging to get out.”
“Ah, see, cooped up is idiom, yes?” Carlos asked Mary.
Mary had an odd look on her face. “Yep, I didn’t think you’d be here so early.”
That seemed odd she’d say that. I assumed she stopped in to see him. Mary looked around awkwardly and I shrugged it off to pregnancy hormones and headed out.
I ran a file over to Tabitha, who was Mick’s and my therapist, slipping it in her mailbox in the lobby of her office. Mick had asked me to drop it off before I came home. I’m sure it was police business but was very proud of myself that I resisted snooping. Tabitha worked with the small police department in town since she had FBI experience.
With Mick’s MS constantly in flux, he planned to continue seeing Tabitha as a therapist from time to time to help him cope with the emotional roller coaster it took him on—I also planned to see her on my own but less often.
Ava had texted me a few minutes ago that she felt a lot better and wanted me to pick her up on the way to Nina’s bakery.
I pulled into the drive at Ava’s and PopTart, their schnauzer, came scuttling up, barking as I got out of the car. “Hey, girl, how you doing? Are those little black kitties torturing you and you needed a break?” I bent down, scratching her chin as her little ears perked up.
Delilah and Ava came out and I saw three curious faces peer out the front window. Ava had adopted three little five-week-old black kittens last year and they were growing up fast. Lily, Luna, and Lulu were pistols just like their mama, Ava, was.
“Poppy, are you begging for love?” Delilah asked as the little chocolate brown furball ran on its short little legs to her.
“You’d think we never paid you any attention,” Ava said, rubbing her behind her ears after Delilah picked her up.
“You two stay out of trouble.” Delilah waved as she took the pup inside.
“She knows us so well.” I looked behind me as I pulled out of the drive. I glanced over at my old cottage with sorrow. I had put my house up for sale and got an immediate buyer. I knew that people would be moving into town with the mall and business expansions. I was floored when I went to the closing to see Marissa from Deep Dish Done Right was the new owner.
“You miss it?” Ava asked.
I stopped the car at the end of the drive and cocked my head toward her. “Not really. I miss that it was the first thing to call mine after we opened the restaurant together and had enough income to buy houses.”
“You miss me, though. There’s NO way you don’t miss me.” Ava stuck her chin out at me.
“THAT has been the biggest blessing since I moved—the peace—the quiet—the—OW!” I yelled as Ava slugged my arm a little too hard.
I drove past the farm market and Costello’s grocery toward the area beyond Mick’s Italian restaurant, M&M’s, and pulled into the little bakery called Pastry Spree’s parking lot with only six spaces.
“Cute name,” I said as I got out and popped the trunk to pull out the monkey bread as a peace offering to compensate for the grilling Nina was about to get.
As Ava and I walked into the shop we heard a greeting, “Hola,” that came from a perky voice from a short, stocky woman who wore jeans with tennis shoes and a light-yellow sweater that had a chartreuse colored apron over it that said Where There’s a Whisk, There’s a Way and a cartoon cupcake that said “Pastry Spree” on the wrapper.
“Hi, wow, what a cute place!” I exclaimed, taking it all in. It was a tiny building with a peach-and-white tiled floor, a matching small counter. A display filled with all kinds of baked concoctions filled my vision as I felt my stomach rumble.
“How can we help you today?” The lady who I assumed to be Nina asked.
“Well, I’m Jolie and this is Ava—we co-own Cast Iron Creations and we brought you some monkey bread as a welcome gift.” I smiled and handed her the Tupperware full of doughy goodness.
“How wonderful,” she said, reaching for it and then shaking our hands.
A young boy came out from the back with a backpack on and a scowl on his narrow features. He looked to be in the middle of a heated conversation. “Yeah, well, I don’t care. He’s new too. What a militant jerk!”
“Luis!” Nina scolded the teen.
“Gotta go.” He hung up and put his cell in his back pocket. “Sorry, Mama.”
“Please, these nice ladies brought us a gift to welcome us to town and you with your manners.”
Ava and I looked at each other and smiled a little. I was not sure what to say.
“Hello, I’m Luis Sanchez.” The boy politely reached for our hands to shake them. “I apologize for my behavior,” he said, bowing slightly.
“No problem. Ava is like that all the time.” I flicked my thumb towards her, giving Luis a knowing glance.
“Another new student at school?” Ava asked Luis while gently shoving me for my comment.
“Nah, the new principal. I didn’t know the old one, but everyone seemed to like him a lot better than this guy.” Luis turned and bent down to kiss his mom, said it was nice meeting us, and took off out the door.
Nina raised a hand and waved it after her son, “Ah, teen boys, what does one do with them? Come, ladies sit, please, I’ll get us some coffee, yes?”
“I’ll have some,” Ava said, while I passed and opted for a glass of water but also took a triple chocolate cupcake.
“Sanchez was the last name?” Ava asked.
“Yes,” Nina said, biting into a piece of pie she had sliced for herself.
“My last name is Martinez. My family is from Santo Domingo. There are Sanchezes there too. I don’t suppose you’re any relation?”
Whoa, I guess Ava wasn’t going to beat around the bush.
Nina got an odd look on her face. “Hm, no, not us. I’ve never heard of them.”
Silence. I think Ava hoped Nina would offer up more information, but she didn’t seem keen on doing so.
“Well, one of the things we wanted to throw out to you was that many of the small businesses here in the village do something called cross-selling. We try to help each other out by sharing what we make with each other so when we get customers, hopefully we can get people to try other places too. The hope is that it benefits all the businesses.”
“Oh, yes? Does it cost to belong to this?” Nina speculated.
“No, not at all,” I replied. “Each person who participates keeps a pamphlet holder by their register or a bulletin board up with business cards and information about the other businesses. You don’t have to participate if you don’t want or you can wait awhile to decide if it’s right for you or not.”
“I will definitely give it some thought,” Nina said. “Thank you for offering.”
We got up to leave and I pulled out my wallet to pay for our cupcakes and drinks.
“That will be fourteen dollars and fifty cents.” Nina rang up the small coffee, water, and two cupcakes.
I managed to prevent my jaw from dropping to the floor, but Ava didn’t fare so well.
“For that?” Ava gulped.
I elbowed her and she looked at me like what the?
Nina held her ground in silence, staring at Ava. I noticed there was no pricing yet up on the large board with items for sale. I handed her a twenty, noting to myself I’d be frequenting Betsy’s place more often than here. While the cupcakes were delicious, seven dollars apiece was steep, at least in these parts of Ohio.
“So, are you from the Dominican Republic?” Ava asked as Nina pulled change out of the register.
Nina stared silently at Ava with an odd smile on her face. I felt very uncomfortable and thanked her, told her it was nice meeting her, and we took off.