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The whole town must have been praying overnight, because Saturday dawned clear, sunny, and cool, ideal weather for the Turkey Toss. I smiled from ear to ear when I looked out the kitchen window and saw brilliant blue skies and not a single cloud. Perfect!
But before I’d even finished my first cup of coffee, a text from Jen arrived.
Can you meet me at the café this morning? It’s important.
What on earth? Jen and Todd usually spent Saturdays together, and it wasn’t like her to want to meet so early on a Saturday. But I had a fairly leisurely—for me—morning planned, and I could visit with Jen and still have plenty of time to get ready for the Turkey Toss at noon, so I texted back, 9:30 okay?
She replied with a thumbs-up.
It was a jeans-and-sweatshirt kind of day, so I got dressed and headed downtown.
As soon as I walked into the café and glanced at Jen, I knew something was wrong. Her eyes were red and swollen, and she looked miserable.
“What happened? Are you and Todd okay?”
She nodded. “Yeah, we’re fine. He’s fine, but...”
I motioned for her to continue. “Well, what is it?”
“The company wants to promote me.”
Of all the terrible things I had imagined, that possibility wasn’t even in the running. “That’s great news! So why’ve you been crying?”
She swiped at a few tears. “The job is in Mississippi. It’s a larger paper, one that’s still daily.”
“Oh.” I forced a smile. “What does Todd say about it?” That was a great opportunity for Jen and, in the current publishing climate, one she probably couldn’t afford to pass up. But I didn’t want to lose my best friend. One reason I was so happy in Roseland was that I loved hanging out with my BFF and her husband.
“That’s the thing.” Jen’s tears cranked up. “He’s been at some web design seminar in Atlanta for the past two days, and I got the offer late yesterday. I don’t want to tell him and distract him while his classes are finishing this morning.”
“Wise move.” I stood and tapped her shoulder as I headed to the counter to place an order. “This calls for caffeine. I’ve gotten addicted to that new cinnamon-flavored coffee Mavis started offering last week. You want one?” I held up my wallet. “My treat.”
“That would be great.”
I returned with two to-go cups of cinnamon coffee. Jen sniffed and smiled. “Emma, I don’t want to leave Roseland.”
That made me hopeful but also feeling like a lousy best friend. A good friend would think about what was best for Jen and her career. “With all these budget cuts at the Trib, you’ve been stressed out for the last few months,” I gently reminded her. “Don’t you think you might enjoy a new challenge? A new city? And hey, Mississippi’s not that far away. I mean, it’s not like you’re talking California or South Dakota or something.”
“South Dakota?” Jen looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “Where’d that come from?”
I laughed. “I just got through reading a great romance novel about a wheat-farming family in South Dakota. Guess it’s still on my brain. Now, back to this new job of yours...”
“I haven’t accepted it yet, so don’t say that.”
“What do you think Todd’s going to say?”
“I’ve been wondering about that. Since he was already urging me to find a new job, he’ll most likely say I should consider it.”
She was probably right. “But Todd was also talking about launching that new real estate website. Is that a concern?”
“Sure it is, and I know we’ll have to talk about that.”
I was quiet for a moment—clearly too quiet, because Jen looked at me over her coffee. “What are you thinking? I know something’s up in that head of yours.”
“Just wondering what it might be like to get a fresh start in a new town. That’s all. It could be great, you know.”
Jen shrugged. “Or it could be a colossal mistake. On the other hand, staying here could be the big mistake. And after the kind of morning I’ve had...”
“Other than the job offer, what’s up?”
Jen brightened. “I can’t believe I forgot to tell you. One of the reporters got a tip from someone who says Caitlyn Hill got into a huge fight with her boss just two days before Miranda was killed.”
Oh. That wasn’t news. “I heard about that, too, and it didn’t sound like that big of a deal.”
“Really?” Jen looked skeptical. “Because the source told our reporter than Caitlyn has some sort of skeleton in her own closet, and Miranda found out about that and threatened to expose her.”
I’d stood to get refills on our coffee and looked over my shoulder. “Skeleton? Like what?”
“Like the fact that Caitlyn didn’t get hired because of her qualifications but because of some family connection. When Miranda learned why Caitlyn was hired at the same time she was, she and Caitlyn nearly came to blows over it.”
I set our mugs on the table. “What was Caitlyn’s big ‘family connection,’ then?”
Jen’s eyes widened, and she shook her head. “Shh.”
“Huh?”
“Don’t look now, but ...” Jen wrapped her hands around her coffee cup and slowly scanned the front of the café.
It took every ounce of self-restraint I had not to turn around.
“It’s Caitlyn,” Jen whispered. “And she’s with some older man.” She looked back at me but continued to glance toward the front of the shop. “Okay, they’re looking at something, so you can turn around now.”
When I did, the handsome gray-haired man was showing Caitlyn what appeared to be a magazine article.
“I know just how to handle this.”
I went to the counter and ordered a cranberry-oatmeal cookie. Mavis stopped boxing doughnuts long enough to ring me up. As I headed back to my table, I looked in Caitlyn’s direction, and when she glanced up, I pretended to have just seen her.
Then I handed my cookie over to Jen and swept past our table. “Be back in a jiff.”
“Well, hi there,” I said as I approached Caitlyn.
She looked happy and didn’t seem at all concerned about being seen with the older gentleman. But didn’t I see you out with Tyler last night?
“Hey, Emma. Shane, I’d like you to meet Emma Madison, one of our new Happy Hometown board members here in Roseland.”
He held out a hand, and I shook it. “Nice to meet you, Shane.”
“He’s the head of the Greater Atlanta Happy Hometown Program... and I guess it’s safe to tell you that he’s also my stepdad. Miranda didn’t want anyone to know that Shane helped me get the job, which I always thought was silly.”
I looked at Shane and shrugged. “Miranda had some interesting ideas about things, didn’t she?”
He replied with a wry grin.
Caitlyn added, “Shane and my mom got married last year. She’s still shopping back at the Feathered Nest. And I know I owe you a phone call. I didn’t return it last night because I was out with a new friend, and we got home late after seeing a movie. I didn’t know whether it was too late to call. So, what can I help you with?”
I still wanted to warn Caitlyn that she might be on someone’s radar because of her familiarity with the bazaar’s exhibitor list, but I wasn’t about to go into all that in front of her stepdad. I also wondered whether she considered Tyler serious boyfriend material. I certainly hadn’t imagined that kiss between them outside Sombrero.
“It can wait until, um...”
Mavis provided the diversion I needed. She was carrying a small bud vase of fresh fall flowers and put them on a table next to Caitlyn’s, but I knew exactly what she was up to—eavesdropping. I would save her the trouble.
“Mavis,” I called.
“What? Oh, and hi there, Caitlyn. I didn’t see you come in, hon.”
Liar.
Caitlyn motioned Mavis over to her table. “I’d like you to meet my stepdad, Shane McLaughlin.”
She shook his hand. “Pleased to meet you, and thanks for coming to the Cupcake Café.”
“Shane works with the Greater Atlanta Happy Hometown office.” I looked Mavis in the eye and made no effort to hide my smug grin. “Isn’t it great to have him here in town for a visit?”
Unperturbed, Mavis smiled back. “So nice to have you here. And I thought you looked familiar. You’ve been in before, haven’t you?”
Shane nodded. “I told Caitlyn that I wanted to come back for one of your bananas Foster cupcakes. I hope you’ve got some of those today.”
“I sure do.” Mavis beamed. “In fact, let me go get you one right now. On the house.”
With her back to them, Mavis winked at me as she walked past.
“I’ll let you two get back to your visit, then.” I tipped my head at Caitlyn and her stepdad. “I’m catching up with a friend over there. And again, it was nice meeting you, Shane.”
So much for Mavis’s gossip about Caitlyn and the married man.
When I returned to our table, Jen swallowed a sip of coffee. “Want to tell me what that was all about?”
I smiled. “Funny you should ask, considering what you just told me. I was getting the scoop on Caitlyn and her stepdad over there. He works for the Atlanta office of Happy Hometown, and that’s how she got the job. Her folks are here visiting for the weekend.”
Jen grimaced. “Shoot. No scandal there, then.” Jen’s phone beeped, and she pulled it out of her pocket and glanced at the screen. “Oh no. It’s one of the photogs saying there’s some problem with his camera, and he’s supposed to cover the Turkey Toss. I’d better get to the office and see what’s going on.”
“Go.” I waved her off. “But call me later and let me know how you’re doing. And I want to know what Todd says about the job offer.”
“Will do!”
Since I still had almost two hours until time to volunteer, I headed home to squeeze in some more jewelry designs. Maybe it was the caffeine from all the coffee, but my mind was running a mile a minute. Learning about Caitlyn’s stepdad made me less inclined to question her ambition. Like a lot of people, she had taken advantage of a family connection to get a job. Miranda might not have liked it, but it certainly didn’t mean Caitlyn was incompetent and didn’t deserve the job.
Once back in my kitchen, I pulled out a container of red beads and spilled them into an empty trench on my bead board. Maybe the mayor’s brother killed Miranda, and ooh, what if the mayor is helping with the cover-up?
Clearly, I needed to stop reading National Enquirer headlines while I was in line at the grocery store.
Then my mind returned to the image of Tyler and Caitlyn outside Sombrero the previous night. How odd that he’d been upset about being excluded from the show but was seeing—or at least interested in—Caitlyn. And she was a good ten years younger than Gus. Maybe he was one of those guys who just liked women too much to settle down with one. Still, I hoped nobody would end up hurt, and if someone did, I suspected it would be Gus.
My worry list had grown to include more than just Miranda’s murder, in which neither the police nor I seemed to have made a bit of progress. I clenched my jaw, aggravated that my list of serious suspects was dwindling.
Something kept bothering me, though. Miranda had disappeared from the floor of the cafeteria for several hours late Saturday afternoon, and no one had ever mentioned precisely where she was supposed to be during that time. That had to be crucial information. I wondered who might have seen her then.
I shook my head, trying to clear the cobwebs, and got to work. With a spool of elastic beading cord next to some beads lined up for a new bracelet, I was set to stab the first bead with my needle when the doorbell rang.
What now? This house has had more comings and goings than Hartsfield Airport this week.
I set the needle aside and headed for the front door, and when I looked through the glass windowpanes, Savannah stood there. She waved a white plastic bag.
I opened the door. “A gift?”
“Just found this at Second Chance for a dollar. I think it’s some kind of vintage rhinestone chain.” She handed over the bag. “After all the old sewing tools you’ve found for me over the years, I’m happy to find something for you for a change.”
“Cool.” I opened the bag and was rendered almost speechless. “Oh, wow! This is a steal. I don’t even see this stuff on eBay or Etsy very often.”
“Really?” Savannah shrugged. “Didn’t know if it was something you could use, but if you like it, they’ve got spools of it in several other finishes. I told Marge to hold them behind the counter for you.”
I was already reaching into my purse for my car keys.
“You’re going there right now?” Savannah looked confused.
“You bet I am. Wanna come with me?”
“I’d better not.” She looked at her watch. “I need to spend some time in the studio today.”
“Me, too, but I’m going to get that chain before somebody else does.”
* * *
MARGE, THE GRAY-HAIRED volunteer I’d gotten to know over the past few years of shopping at Second Chance Thrift Store, tucked a tissue into her denim shirt pocket. “Donations are flooding in this fall. People used to wait and clean out after Christmas or maybe in early spring, but thanks to that woman’s book about ‘tidying up,’ we can barely process the donations fast enough.”
I laughed. “One man’s trash...”
“Hey, I’m not complaining.” Marge put a hand on her ample hip. “With all these donations, we’re able to keep our prices low and move stuff in and out pretty quickly.”
Second Chance used its proceeds to benefit the women’s shelter in a neighboring county, so that had to be good news.
“I know folks are getting some ridiculous deals. But to be honest with you, I don’t have time to do more than guess about the value and slap a price sticker on things.”
“And on behalf of your grateful customers, thank you.” Then I pointed behind the counter. “Savannah says you’ve set aside some jewelry supplies for me.”
“Oh yeah. Now, where did I put those things?” Marge’s head bobbed from box to bin beneath the counter as she unearthed who knew what. Most thrift stores wouldn’t hold items for customers, so I marveled at her ability to keep up with the inventory.
“Here.” Marge whipped out a large plastic bag and handed it over. It was full of spools of skip chain—silver chain with rhinestones, gold chain with rhinestones, and gold chain with rubies. My heart sped up at finding the mother lode of vintage chain. In a flash of inspiration, I envisioned a necklace I would make for the Jewelry Artisans of the Southeast show next spring.
“I’ll take it all.” I set the bag on the counter. “How much?”
Marge tapped a finger to her chin. “Eight dollars for the whole kit and caboodle?”
“Sold. And I’ll leave it here while I buzz through a few aisles. Since I’m here, I might as well see if you’ve got anything else I need.”
I headed down the housewares aisle, my fingers crossed. Is that a bit of turquoise I see peeking out?
And there it was, another turquoise Pyrex Cinderella bowl. I slid it off the shelf and smiled. Another score. I’d found the same color bowl in a smaller size the previous month, so I’d wondered when the large bowl would show up. If I visited often enough, I could complete my set.
I didn’t spot any other vintage Pyrex, but they sure had mountains of china. I picked up a teacup with pale-pink roses and mossy green leaves and turned it over—Haviland. I was about to text a photo to Carleen, who was passionate about old Haviland, when a similar piece of china caught my eye. That design also featured pale-pink roses. If I wasn’t mistaken, it was Rosalinde, the same pattern Carleen had used when I was invited to tea at her house a while back. What I’d first thought was a teacup was actually a cup with double handles—cream soup bowls—and all with matching saucers. Eight sets of them sat on the shelf, taped haphazardly together. Matching cream soups were often hard to find in any pattern. Ten bucks for the lot? Yes, please.
“Emmaaa, finding anything good over there?”
Inwardly, I rolled my eyes. Not her again. That woman had a sixth sense when it came to the bargains around town.
I turned slowly, balancing the cream soup bowls inside my vintage Pyrex. “Hi, Harriet. So, you’re out thrifting today, too, huh?”
She nodded. “Decided to get out of the shop and see what’s out here. Get a little fresh air, you know.” She didn’t even try to hide her curiosity about my purchases. “Pyrex and fine china both? You’re covering all your bases today.”
I tipped my head at the items. “It’s always hit-or-miss at places like this, but today’s definitely a hit.”
It dawned on me that I didn’t really know anything about Harriet’s own collecting interests. “I’m after vintage Pyrex, the occasional china, and old jewelry. What do you look for?”
Harriet looked around as if making sure we weren’t being overheard.
My eyes tracked her gaze. “What? Is it a secret or something?”
“No.” Harriet paused. “It’s just that if my regulars ever find out what I collect, I’m afraid they’ll up the price when they try to sell these to me.”
That was a valid concern, and I certainly wasn’t going to beg her to spill. But then, as if I’d twisted her arm, she came out with it. “Okay, I’ll tell you. Since I’ve always loved dogs, I collect dog figurines.”
“Seriously?” Harriet had never struck me as a pet lover. “Do you have a dog now?”
Harriet whipped out her cell phone, and before I knew it, I was laughing over pictures of JoJo, her Pekingese. She definitely wasn’t the sort of dog I would have expected to find at Harriet’s house.
“So, china figurines? Ceramic? What?”
“As long as it’s old and cute, I don’t care.” Harriet held out her hand. “Like this little guy.”
The tiny bone china collie couldn’t have been two inches high. “I have an antique display cabinet in my sunroom that’s overflowing with the things, and I love looking at them.”
While I’d never really understood people who preferred dogs over cats, Harriet’s stock rose the minute I learned she was a pet lover. “What does JoJo think about them?”
Harriet grinned. “JoJo runs our house, so as long as Hubert and I jump when she tells us to, she doesn’t care what I bring home. Well, except for that time I tried fostering a puppy for Gerald Adams. That didn’t go over so well with JoJo.”
“I didn’t realize you fostered pets. Gerald signed you up?”
“Yep. Tugged at the old heartstrings till I couldn’t say no. Gerald has done more for the Humane Society than any president they’ve had in years.”
My dishes were getting heavy, so I asked Harriet to give me a minute to unload my stash at the front counter.
Harriet called, “And they’re saying that adoptions are way over where they were this time last year.”
“I heard that too,” I said as I returned to the china aisle.
“We have Gerald to thank for that.” Harriet fingered a pink milk glass candy dish that I wished I’d seen first. “I’m still concerned about his getting attacked at the Happy Hometown office.”
“So am I.”
“When Hubert and I left the movies last night, we ran into Caitlyn Hill and told her she’d better be careful, since someone seems to have it in for that program.”
So Harriet had had the same thoughts Justin and I did. “What did she say when you told her that?”
Harriet scoffed. “Didn’t take it too seriously, if you ask me. She had her parents and that new boyfriend, Tyler Montgomery, with her, so I think she was more concerned about—”
“Excuse me?”
Harriet’s brow furrowed. “What? Did I say something wrong?”
“No, I just wondered if you’re sure about Tyler Montgomery being her new boyfriend.”
“The artist? Usually wears those tacky vests with paint all over them? That’s who I’m talking about. Lived here most of his life, though I can’t say I know him well. His mother has bought a few Early American pieces from me over the years.”
My heart sank. From what I’d learned in the last twenty-four hours, Gus was going to be so disappointed. When I saw her at The Loft, she’d said Tyler wasn’t with her because he was working that night. He didn’t have to marry her, but he didn’t have to lie to her either.
A commotion at the front door drew our attention. A pickup truck had backed up to offload some donations.
I turned to Harriet. “It’s been fun talking to you, but I need to get going. Gotta head over to the Turkey Toss. Good luck finding your figurines.”
I left Harriet to plunder for more canine china while I checked out with my housewares and the vintage skip chain.
On the drive across town, I found myself more concerned about Gus’s love life than Miranda’s murder, which was an odd turn of events. Before Justin had even assembled his group of artists, one of them was causing a disruption.
I tried to shake off my worries. Like Scarlett O’Hara, I would have to think about that another day.
After all, I had some turkeys to toss.