“Milly!” Sue streaked across the sidewalk and threw her arms around me. She squeezed me tight, enveloping me in her light jasmine perfume. “Milly, I was worried sick about you. Thank goodness you’re all right.”
My grandmother appeared beside Sue, who released me after a few minutes of fussing over how messy my hair was, and I gave them both smiles. “I’m fine,” I said. “Everything’s fine.”
“Uh oh,” Sue said.
“I’ll second that.” Gran put an arm around my waist and hugged me. “It’s OK, honey.”
“What do you mean, uh oh? I said I was fine.”
“Milly, please.” Sue shook her head, her braids shifting, gently. “I grew up with three sisters, and I’m a woman myself. You’re internally freaking out. I can tell.”
“I am not.”
“Hush, now. Let’s get you home.” Gran guided me away, even though I was fine. As fine as an ex-cop who was now a suspected murderer could be.
Gran fed me into the passenger seat of Sue’s sleek black BMW then got into the back herself. We rode back to my place with music playing and the windows open. Several townsfolk turned to stare as we drove by, some of them narrowing their eyes.
Already? You’ve got to be kidding me.
The minute we’d parked, I got out and stared at Angela’s house. It was perfectly pink and quiet, just as it had been this morning.
Who on earth had wanted to murder Angela?
“Come on, come on.” Gran guided me into the yard, where Waffle hopped up to greet us. Sue lifted him into her arms and we proceeded into my kitchen-living room together.
“I’ll fix a pot of coffee,” Sue said, looking distinctly out of place in her gorgeous black suit and blazer in my kitchen.
Gran took Waffle from her then settled both me and my pet bunny on the two-seater sofa. I stroked Waffle’s furry head and received a playful nibble in response.
“I missed you too,” I said. “Though, I wasn’t expecting to be home this early today.” It wasn’t even noon yet.
“All right.” Gran settled herself in my only armchair—an antique that was decidedly uncomfortable but that I loved because it had belonged to my dad. “Tell us exactly what happened. From the top to the bottom of it.” She touched her fingers to her fluffy white hair, studying me with great interest.
I talked, and Sue and Gran made the appropriate noises at the appropriate parts in the story.
“Hold up,” Sue said, as she handed out mugs of coffee. “So, you heard the bell above the door tinkle three times?”
“Three times, yeah.” I had already gone over that fact several times in my mind. “I wish I’d been quicker.”
“What do you mean?” Gran asked.
“If I’d just gone out front with my frosting covered apron the minute I’d heard Angela enter, this wouldn’t have happened.”
“Imagine you went out there and saw… it happening.” Sue grimaced. “Like, whoever it was doing that to her.”
“Who shoves a bottle of maple syrup in a person’s mouth?” Gran shuddered. “I can’t imagine a worse way to go.”
“I don’t think she died from that,” I said. “She was stabbed. Stabbed and then the maple syrup thing happened afterward. Whoever did this despised her. To take the extra time to do something like that… it’s as if they wanted to hurt her even more. That or they were leaving a message.”
Sue stared at me like I’d grown an extra head.
“Sorry,” I said. “I guess you’ve never heard me talk this way before.” Sue was aware that I’d been a police officer and given it up so that I could run my dad’s cafe. But we never discussed anything that had happened while I’d been an officer. Not that there was that much to discuss. It wasn’t like I’d had the chance to work cases. That was the point of the detective’s test.
Don’t think about that.
“It’s OK,” Sue said. “It’s kind of morbidly fascinating, I guess.” My well put together friend sat down beside me and sipped her coffee. “Tell us more. How are you feeling?”
“You don’t need to therapize me,” I said, “if that’s even a word.”
“I wasn’t. I was genuinely curious.”
“Right,” I said. “ I’m doing OK. I’m worried about the cafe, though. They’re going to have to close it up to process the scene, and then there’s this new detective who’s going to pay me a visit.”
“A new detective?” Gran straightened in her chair. “Now, that is interesting. A new detective. I wonder if he’s good-looking.”
“A good point.” Sue raised her mug.
“Stop it, you two. A woman has just died. Have you no shame?”
Both looked appropriately abashed.
“Sue,” I said, “can you think of anyone who might’ve wanted to hurt Angela?”
“I can think of about fifty people off-hand.” The reply was instant. “Angela wasn’t the most popular person in Star Lake. At least, not when it came to anyone else. I’m sure she believed that she was popular though.”
“A local celebrity,” I said, echoing Angela’s own words from the nail salon.
“Exactly. People were tired of how she’d been acting ever since she got back to town.”
“Wait, I thought Angela was a local.”
“Oh, she is,” Gran said. “She was born and raised here, but she left a few years ago to pursue a career in Hollywood. You know, as a famous actress.”
“Did she act in anything other than the cereal commercial when she was a kid?” I asked.
“Nope,” Sue and Gran replied, in unison.
“OK. So she came back to start a new business venture.” That much I recalled. “And she had an argument with her boyfriend last night.”
“Wait, what? Her boyfriend, Peter?” Sue asked. “That’s interesting. Peter’s usually so calm. I mean, he’d have to be to date her. Angela was a handful at the best of times.”
“I heard the way you groaned at the nail salon when I called her over.”
“We were lucky,” Sue said. “Usually, she talks nonstop.”
I stroked Waffle to keep calm, trying to work through everything. A woman had been murdered right in front of my beloved waffle station.
Now, my father’s cafe would close, and I would be stuck as a local pariah until the cops proved my innocence. Assuming they did a good job of that. I wasn’t holding out hope if my experience with Deputy Barker was anything to go by.
I didn’t want to be one of those big city cops who frowned on the methods of my small town counterparts, but so far, this had been a total poop show.
“Ooh!” Gran said, and put down her mug on my coffee table. “What if it was the mugger? The one they’re talking about in the papers? What if he killed her?”
Sue sucked in a breath. “You might be onto something there, Celia.”
“No,” I said, “that doesn't make sense to me. The mugger hasn't gotten violent with any of their victims yet. Why risk everything now? Why not only stab Angela but shove a bottle of maple syrup in her mouth?”
Sue gulped. “You’re really comfortable talking like that, huh?”
“This wasn’t some random act of thievery,” I continued. “It’s not even agg. assault. This is a murder. And whoever did it, well, I get the feeling it was personal.”
“They should fire that new detective and hire you instead,” Sue said.
Gran made a tiny shake of her head in Sue’s direction then tried to act as if she hadn’t. I ignored my friend’s comment.
“Anyway,” I said. “It’s none of my business. As long as they take my testimony and clear my name, everything will be fine.”
Sue and Gran exchanged a doubtful glance.