By lunch time, it was painfully obvious that, yep, we weren’t going to have that many customers today. One regular, Mrs. Carlington had stopped by to grab a cup of coffee and a waffle, but she was the only one all morning.
I let Fran and Noel go home then removed my apron, locked up the cafe, and headed out into the cold fall air.
It was past time I checked in at Jackson’s new butchery. I would tell him that I couldn’t afford to buy meat from him at the moment and use that as an excuse for stopping by.
I strolled down the street, trying to ignore the occasional glare from other pedestrians, and forced myself to soak up the atmosphere of the town. Minus the bad attitude of the residents.
The streets were clean, the last of the leaves on the trees drifting down to the ground, and the other stores, bakeries, and restaurants did a roaring trade as locals dipped in and out of them. Already, a few of the store owners had started putting up Christmas decorations in their windows.
I ought to do that.
I turned the corner and stopped dead, my pulse skyrocketing.
Luca and that beautiful woman, the same one he’d brought into the cafe, stood at the end of the street, admiring something in a store window together.
I spun on my heel and went the other way.
Childish.
But I didn’t want to see Luca right now. I’d already said no to a date with him, and it would be ridiculous for me to be jealous of him in a relationship with another woman. Him seeing me jealous would be even worse.
I’d just keep my distance until I could better deal with my emotions. Simple as that. I took the long way to the butchery, keeping my thoughts on the case rather than my confused feelings.
Jackson’s Butchery was sequestered in a small building with floor-to-ceiling windows that let in plenty of light. There weren’t many customers inside, but the friendly cartoon pig holding up knives that had been painted on the wall behind the refrigerated displays might’ve been a clue as to why.
I entered and found Hazel standing behind the counter, wearing an apron and a hairnet. She waved at me. “Oh, hello, Milly.”
“Customer?” Jackson dipped into view, emerging from behind a wall that separated the front of the butchery from the back where all the “meaty stuff” happened. He held a butcher’s cleaver in one hand, his apron stained. “Milly! Welcome, welcome, welcome. What can we get for you today?”
I put up a smile, unable to ignore how comfortable he was wielding that cleaver.
“I just wanted to drop by to talk, actually,” I said, then pulled a face. “I’m sorry, Jackson, but I can’t use your services at the moment.”
“You have another supplier?” Jackson’s face fell, and he lowered the cleaver.
Hazel took the weapon from him and put it around the back of the wall before returning to her position behind the counter.
“Unfortunately, people have been spreading some pretty nasty rumors about me,” I said, “and it’s affected business at the cafe. I can’t afford to pay attention, let alone take on a new meat supplier at the moment.”
“That’s terrible, Milly,” Hazel said. “I’m so sorry.”
“Is this about that newspaper article? Hit piece. I don’t know what the editor at the paper was thinking.” Jackson shook his head. “But you know what, we understand, Milly.”
“As soon as things are up and running again, you’ll be first on my list as a supplier,” I said.
That was assuming Hazel and Jackson weren’t in prison then. That was a thought. What if they had been working together? Willow and Elijah had been working together to destabilize the Bakers group, all right.
“How are things?” I asked, striking up a conversational tone. Jackson was social, even if his wife was a little shy, and I could use that to my advantage here. “With the new business. Have you made your application to join the Butchers group yet?”
“Oh yeah,” Jackson said. “We applied a couple of weeks ago. Just waiting to hear back!”
“That’s so exciting. I’m happy for you guys!”
Hazel wasn’t smiling as much.
“Are you still working at your bakery as well, Hazel? It must be tough to switch between the two places and keep everything running.”
“No,” she said, “unfortunately, my business closed.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that. So sorry.”
“That’s OK.” Hazel lifted her chin. “It frees me up to spend more time here with Jackson. And the Bakers group can’t complain because I’m not officially a baker anymore.”
“Oh. Here I was thinking that being a part of the Bakers was a ‘for life’ commitment.”
Hazel shook her head. “Nope. You can apply for release from the Bakers, especially if you want to become a part of another group like the Butchers.”
“That’s cool.” Except it was a blatant lie.
I had talked to the new head of the Bakers group about this. Or rather, she’d threatened legal action if I so much as thought of leaving the group once I had joined. The Bakers group was for life.
Why would Hazel have lied about something like that? Suspicious.
“When did you decide to leave the group?” I asked.
“Oh, just over a month ago,” Hazel said.
“Can I ask you something?” Is this going to work? It’s a long shot.
“Sure.”
“I noticed that a lot of the members of the Bakers group have these, uh, amazing knit gloves in burgundy, and believe it or not, burgundy just so happens to be my color.” I fluffed my red hair and rolled my eyes. “I was wondering, since you’re not a part of the group, if I could have your gloves?”
“I’m sorry,” Hazel said. “They didn’t give me a pair. When I told them I wanted to leave, well, they weren’t too happy about it. Especially Rebecca Gold. She tried to intervene in my meeting with Nora and stop her from letting me leave the group. But, goodness, even if I did have a pair, I wouldn’t be permitted to give them to you. Bakers group rules. Sorry.”
“Ah. No problem. It was worth a shot.” I gave a deprecatory shrug.
“Milly, you’re still coming to my birthday bash, right?” Jackson asked. “I know you said you’d come, but with things being the way they are for you at the moment. Look, all the big Butchers group members will be there. And we’ll be hosting a good old fashioned barbecue. Plenty of delicious meat to go around.”
“Oh, definitely. My grandmother and I will be there. You can bet on it.”
“Awesome,” Jackson said.
My phone trilled in my pocket, and I said a hasty goodbye for heading into the street to answer the call. It was Gran.
“Hey, Gran, how are—”
“You need to get over here, quickly, Milly. Something’s happened.”