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“I’M NEARLY BETTER,” Lauren protested the following day while they ate breakfast. She coughed.
“Nearly.” Zoe shook her head. “Annie and I can cope. And Ed.”
“I know.” Zoe had done a wonderful job the last two days.
“You don’t want to sneeze over the coffee or the pastries,” Zoe continued. “And I don’t think you’re up to baking cupcakes.”
“Maybe not,” Lauren replied ruefully, an idea forming in her mind.
“I’ve got to go.” Zoe scraped back her chair. “Everyone loved Ed’s honeyed walnut pastries and he said he’d come in early again today and make extra. I’m even thinking of putting the price up by ten cents since they’re such a hit.”
“Good thinking.” Lauren stirred her oatmeal. Her appetite had come back a little, but she wasn’t up to crunching on granola. She didn’t think she wanted any more oatmeal this morning, either.
“Oh, Brooke and I spoke about the murder a bit yesterday before Jeff shared her table. She said she was late opening the salon on Monday because her mom called just as she was leaving.”
“Did she tell the police that?” Lauren asked.
“Brrt?” Annie’s ears pricked. She sat next to Lauren at the kitchen table.
“She said she did,” Zoe replied. “I like Brooke. I don’t want her to be the killer.”
“Me, neither,” Lauren replied. “I guess the police will be able to trace the phone call. What about Jeff? Does his alibi check out?”
“I haven’t heard anything either way.” Zoe frowned. “If the detective on the case knows he’s in the clear, he hasn’t shared that with me.” She sounded a bit put out.
They didn’t know the detective, so Lauren wasn’t surprised he hadn’t given Zoe an update on the case.
Zoe zoomed off to the café, Annie electing to stay with Lauren for the time being.
“I think we should order some culinary lavender,” Lauren told the cat.
“Brrt!”
Annie followed Lauren to the living room, where the laptop lay on the coffee table.
After a few minutes, Lauren closed the device. “Hopefully it will arrive next week,” she told Annie. And hopefully I’ll be all better by then.
Annie spent the morning trotting back and forth from the cottage to the café.
“I might not be able to go to Mrs. Finch’s for club night tomorrow,” Lauren told Annie at lunchtime. “I don’t want to give her my cold.” That morning she’d been convinced she was getting better, but now, halfway through the day, her cold seemed to have freshened up a little. “Maybe I need to take more vitamins.”
“Brrt.” Annie sounded approving.
Lauren took some vitamin C and flopped down on the sofa. Should she call Zoe? She didn’t want to bother her if she was busy serving customers, but maybe it wasn’t so busy today if Annie was with her in the cottage?
She gave in to temptation.
“What’s up?” Zoe smiled at her through the phone. She stood behind the counter.
“How is everything?” Lauren asked.
“It’s slower today so far,” Zoe told her. “Everyone’s asking about you and when you’re coming back.”
“That’s nice.” Lauren was cheered.
“Hans is here.” Zoe picked up the phone and headed toward a table near the front. “Hans, Lauren is on the phone.” She handed the device to the dapper man in his sixties.
“Hi, Hans.” Lauren cleared her throat.
“Hello, Lauren,” Hans replied. “It is no good that you are sick.”
“I think I’m getting better,” Lauren told him.
“That is gut.” He beamed, his faded blue eyes looking kindly. “Is Annie keeping you company?”
“Brrt!” Annie peered at the phone when she heard Hans’ voice.
“I see you, Liebchen,” he said to her.
“Brrt.” Good.
Hans wished her a speedy recovery, then handed the phone back to Zoe.
“Everything’s under control,” her cousin assured her. “But – Ms. Tobin has just walked in.”
“Oh,” Lauren replied. Ms. Tobin used to be their prickliest customer, but after they had warned her she was being scammed online, Ms. Tobin had mellowed a little.
“I’ll explain to her that Annie is with you right now,” Zoe said.
Zoe must have moved her hand because now all Lauren could see was her denim jeans.
“Hi, Ms. Tobin,” Zoe said perkily.
“Hello, Zoe.” A pause. “Where is Annie? She always greets me.”
“Oh – I forgot to hold the phone up.”
Lauren could now see Ms. Tobin, a tall, slender woman in her fifties standing at the Please Wait to be Seated sign. Today she wore fawn pants and an amber sweater which complimented her brown hair.
“Annie’s on the phone. Look.” Zoe held up the phone so the other woman could see.
“Hi, Ms. Tobin,” Lauren called on the other end, hoping she didn’t look too dreadful.
“Brrt!” Hello!
“Lauren, what are you doing?” Ms. Tobin sounded more puzzled than scolding. “Annie, are you all right, dear?”
“She’s fine,” Zoe assured her. “Lauren has a cold, and Annie is keeping her company right now. I think she’s getting better, though.”
“Well, that is good news,” Ms. Tobin replied. She paused. “Does that mean you’re here on your own, Zoe?”
“Don’t worry, I can manage,” Zoe told her. “Ed’s in the kitchen making extra Danishes, because there aren’t any cupcakes.”
“Oh.” Ms. Tobin sounded disappointed.
“Ed has made this amazing new pastry, though,” Zoe told her. “You must try it. It’s sold out each day this week.”
“Very well,” Ms. Tobin replied. “Thank you.”
“Sit anywhere you like,” Zoe said.
“Annie, where do you think I should sit?” Ms. Tobin looked directly into the phone screen.
“Brrt!” Annie peered back at her.
“Good idea.” Zoe sounded amused. She held the phone out so Ms. Tobin and Annie could see each other as they walked toward the tables. “Tell us when to stop, Annie.”
After passing a four-seater and a six-seater, they approached a two-seater table not too far from the counter.
“Brrt.” Sit here.
“Thank you, Annie.” Ms. Tobin pulled out a chair.
“What would you like with your honeyed walnut pastry?” Zoe asked. “Your usual large latte?”
“That would be perfect, Zoe. Thank you,” Ms. Tobin replied.
Zoe and her phone departed to the counter. “I’ll see you later,” she told Lauren. “I want to make a good peacock on this latte.”
“I understand,” Lauren replied. They waved goodbye to each other before ending the call, Annie lifting a paw as well. Although Ms. Tobin had mellowed recently, she could still be particular about how her latte was made.
Lauren heated up some soup for her lunch, while Annie enjoyed chicken in gravy. She hoped Zoe had time to eat something between customers. Usually they spelled each other at lunch, either grabbing a meal here in the cottage, or buying something locally.
Annie departed to the café that afternoon, bringing Zoe home with her after five.
“Today was good.” Zoe flopped on the sofa beside Lauren. “Not too many customers.” She looked guilty for a second. “I shouldn’t be happy about that.”
“It’s totally understandable,” Lauren told her. “How did Ms. Tobin like the honeyed walnut pastry?”
“She loved it.” Zoe grinned. “And bought another one to take home!”