Chapter Twelve
I was so not a dog person. I got up at my weekday usual of five-thirty the next morning, yawning from my restless sleep. As I jacked up the thermostat, Cocoa awoke and barked a few times almost immediately. I groaned aloud. Instead of lounging with coffee in my pj’s, playing with Birdy, I pulled on socks, a knit hat, my long down coat, and my winter boots. I clipped on the puppy’s leash and donned fleece mittens before stepping out the back door with him.
It was a dark morning, with not a hint of dawn, which wouldn’t happen for another two hours. True, the stars were silver glitter overhead, but my breath came out in clouds of condensation that looked like they wanted to freeze midair. I followed Cocoa around the small yard until he relieved himself.
“Let’s go, doggy.” I was already shivering. Once inside, I reversed the warm wraps, but kept socks and hat on until I warmed up. I didn’t care how silly it looked, I was still chilled. I set up Cocoa’s food and water dishes on newspapers near his crate, instead of in the kitchen. I didn’t want Birdy to get freaked out any more than he already was—although, for now, he was still snoozing on the foot of my bed. I closed the bedroom door and let the puppy off leash to eat and explore a bit while I made coffee and ate a toasted English muffin with peanut butter. Cocoa ended up snoozing on my foot for a few minutes, exactly where Birdy liked to sit, too.
By six o’clock, I was showered and dressed. Cocoa was back in the crate, Birdy was fed, and it was time to get breakfast for the masses under way for the seven o’clock opening. Sunday was the only day we delayed opening until eight. By the time Danna arrived at six-thirty, I had biscuits baking. I’d beaten dozens of eggs, which were now in a pitcher waiting to be transformed into omelets and wrecks. And a pot each of caf and decaf perked into their carafes.
“Hey, Danna.”
She gave a little wave, but her eyes were only half open.
“Late night?” I asked.
She nodded wordlessly as she slipped on an apron and washed her hands before heading into the cooler to bring out the caddies of jams, sugars, and condiments that went on each table. We set the tables before leaving the day before, but kept the caddies in the cooler so we didn’t tempt any critters to sneak in and dine overnight.
I smiled at her. Danna was as reliable an employee as they come. She and her boyfriend often went out on weeknights, but she never skipped out on work the next day because of it. By the time she needed to be alert and on the job, she always was.
“I cut up all the asparagus and tomatoes last night,” I told her. “And I ordered in grated cheddar for the omelets.”
“Mmm.”
“And I made up more Bridecake dough, too, for lunch desserts.”
She nodded.
“So I temporarily acquired a puppy last night.”
That got her eyes open. “You did? Can I see it?”
“Sure, but not now. He’s a Christmas present for Abe’s son, but they’re trying to keep it a secret until Christmas morning. We’ll have to walk Cocoa a few times this morning, and I’m happy to let you do the honors.”
“Cocoa’s his name? That’s adorbs.” She got out the big ketchup bottle with the pump and topped up some of the red squeeze bottles.
“He’s definitely adorable and is a chocolate Lab, so the name fits.” I emptied the pancake mix into the big mixer bowl and started cracking eggs into it.
Danna finished with the caddies. After setting one on each table, she asked, “Me start grill?”
“Yes, Jane. I already got out the meats.”
“Any news on the death? Like if it was an accident or not?”
“Nothing official. Yesterday you mentioned something about a business Jed might have been associated with. Someplace that raised animals in bad conditions?”
“Yeah.” She lit the grill burners. She laid out bacon in neat strips, and a line of sausages next to it.
“Do you know the name of the place?”
“No. Lemme text Mom. She remembers everything.” She thumbed a quick text and stuck her phone back into the pocket of the calf-length denim skirt she wore today. It had been cut apart and reassembled with flowered gores of what looked like flour sack fabric interspersed with the denim so the skirt flared out toward the hem. Red tights and a green waffle-weave shirt completed the outfit, with a green-and-red flowered scarf tying back her hair. The girl owned flair.
Buck waited on the front porch when I opened the door at seven. I greeted him.
“Mornin’, Robbie. Man alive, am I ever famished.” He ambled in.
“Are you ever not hungry?” I asked.
“Don’t suppose I’m not.”
Nobody else had followed him in. Huh. Yesterday we had a crowd. Had word gotten out about the confiscated cocoa? I hoped this wasn’t a sign that my business was about to take a nosedive.
Inside I asked, “Any news?”
He turned his back on Danna. “We was checking into a lady by name of Karinde Nilsson. You know her?”
I nodded. “A little. She’s big into animal rescue.”
“That’s right. Seems she had some contentious history with Greenberg. She don’t got no alibi for his time of death, neither. Lives alone out in the woods and such.”
Interesting. “But isn’t that only relevant if Jed was murdered, Buck?”
“Yuperoo. They’re going to do a rush autopsy this morning, Thompson said. We should oughta know more in a couple few hours.”
“Good.”
“And by the by, we seen that cam footage. All’s it shows for the time in question is Greenberg slipping and hitting his head.”
An older couple pushed through the door, followed by several construction workers who ate breakfast here nearly every day. Whew. We had customers, after all.
“Let me know the autopsy results after you hear?” I murmured even as I smiled and nodded at the newcomers.
“You bet. I know by now I can trust you, Robbie.”
Trust me to do what? I didn’t ask.