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That afternoon, Mitch stopped by. Lauren willed herself to remain calm as she served him. Annie ambled up to him inquiringly, but when he told her he was getting take-out, she wandered over to one of her regular customers instead, and joined them at their table.
As she placed his vanilla cupcake in a cardboard tray, Lauren peeked up at him from underneath her eyelashes. He looked as business-like as he usually did (apart from Saturday when he mowed her lawn).
She handed him his latte, a shiver racing along her spine when her fingers grazed his.
“Thanks.” He smiled briefly. A ringtone sounded, and he dug his phone out of his pocket. “Sorry. I’ve got to take this.”
“No problem.” Lauren watched him walk out of the café, juggling his coffee, cupcake, and phone. Maybe Zoe was right – her cousin would be one hundred by the time Mitch asked Lauren out – which would make Lauren one-hundred-and one.
“Only two days ‘til crochet and knitting club. I can’t wait to show Mrs. Finch how much crochet I’ve done this week,” Zoe said enthusiastically a few minutes later when she joined Lauren at the counter.
“Oh, that reminds me. I’m almost out of wool for my scarf. I need to buy some more.”
“I can take care of everything.” Zoe made a shooing motion. “Go to the handmade shop before it closes.”
“Are you sure?” Lauren scanned the room. Only a few customers ate, drank, and chatted at the tables. Annie sat with Pastor Mike, who ran the local Episcopal church.
“Go!” Zoe made a shooing motion once more.
Lauren grabbed her purse and departed before she could persuade herself to change her mind. It wasn’t often that she left the coffee shop while they were open.
She breathed in a lungful of fresh spring air. The afternoon sun shone and a cool breeze ruffled her hair. It did feel good to be outside.
Lauren hurried to the store. She’d just buy her yarn and get back to the café. She was so busy wondering if she would ever finish her scarf that she nearly walked past the small shop.
A bell tinkled as she entered the store. An array of colorful wool met her eyes, piled high on the shelves. Oh no! She didn’t know which shade of red she needed. Zoe had bought it for her, and she hadn’t thought to bring the wool with her to match it.
Lauren approached the counter. A woman in her forties with curly brown hair operating the register spoke to the only other customer.
“I’m sorry, but this card is declined.”
“It can’t be,” the slim, tall woman wailed. “Try it again.”
“Okay,” the clerk said doubtfully. She swiped the card once more. “No. I’m sorry.”
Lauren winced with sympathy for the customer. She frowned and looked at her more closely. Honey colored hair hitting her jawline. Was it Kimberly, Wayne’s wife?
“What am I going to do? I need all this.” The woman who might be Kimberly scooped up the skeins of yarn and clutched them to her chest. “I wanted to knit a sweater in cable stitch!”
“We also take cash,” the clerk replied.
“I don’t have any. I pay for everything with a card. My husband said he’d paid the credit card bill last week. Please—” the woman pushed the card across the counter to the clerk “—try again.”
“Okay.”
Lauren thought the clerk sounded patient.
A minute later, the clerk shook her head. “It’s still declined.”
“I can’t believe this.” The woman sounded distraught.
“Maybe you could check with your husband?” the clerk suggested. “He might have forgotten to pay the credit card bill.”
“That would be just like him,” the woman fumed. She turned to go, still clutching the wool. Her eyes widened. “Lauren.”
“Kimberly.” She’d been right. Her heart went out to the older woman.
“What are you doing here?” Kimberly made an attempt to laugh.
“I need some more wool for my scarf.”
“I’m going to knit a sweater.” Her eyes flashed. “If my husband paid the credit card bill.”
“Ma’am—” the clerk began.
Kimberly swiveled. “You’ll put this aside for me, won’t you?” She tumbled the skeins onto the counter. “Until I can get everything straightened out with my card.”
The clerk’s gaze flickered to Lauren and then back to Kimberly. “Of course.”
“It’s Kimberly Rymer.”
Kimberly turned to go, then paused. “Oh, Lauren, my husband told me you and Zoe had dinner at the steakhouse the other night. How was everything?”
“It was great,” Lauren replied politely. What else could she say? That the wagyu had been disappointing?
“That’s wonderful.” Kimberly smiled, as if she hadn’t just been embarrassed about her declined card. “You two must come again soon. I’ll tell Wayne to give you a twenty percent discount.”
“Oh, that’s kind of you, but you mustn’t—”
“Nonsense.” Kimberly waved a hand in the air. “It’s all settled. I’m sure Wayne can find a table for you anytime, even during a busy evening.”
“Thanks,” Lauren replied, not sure what else to say.
Kimberly exited the shop, the bell tinkling her departure. Lauren smiled hesitantly at the clerk, explaining her wool dilemma.
“Oh, no problem,” the clerk reassured her. “I remember Zoe.” She grinned. “She was very enthusiastic about your knitting venture. And her crochet project. I remember which wool she bought both times.”
Lauren purchased two more balls, trusting that would be enough. Hopefully she would never be in the mortifying position of having her card declined, although she preferred paying with old-fashioned cash.
“That’s a lot of yarn,” Lauren commented, eyeing Kimberly’s stash. Skeins of cream fiber dotted the counter.
“You’d be surprised at how much you need for some projects,” the clerk replied, placing Lauren’s purchase in a brown paper bag. “I just hope Kimberly claims it soon – it’s a very popular item. If I run out of stock on the shelf and she hasn’t come back for it ...”
“I understand,” Lauren said, sympathizing with the clerk – and Kimberly.
As she left the store, an image flashed in front of her. Kimberly sitting down at the café, bags of purchases surrounding her chair. She’d just visited the outlet mall.
Did Kimberly have a shopping addiction? Or was Lauren making too much of it? Just because Lauren tried to be careful with her purchases most of the time didn’t mean other people had to be.
Or was it just like the clerk had suggested – Wayne, Kimberly’s husband, had forgotten to pay the credit card bill?
***
THE NEXT DAY, BRANDON entered the café, halting at the Please Wait to be Seated sign.
“Brrt.” Annie trotted toward him and looked up at him coyly.
“Hi, Annie.” He grinned down at her.
“Hi.” Lauren headed toward him. The café was half full and nobody was attempting to attract her attention. “Thank you for your—”
“Review,” Zoe finished, rounding the counter. “We read it online the other day.”
“I think Annie loved what you wrote about her,” Lauren said, glancing down at the Norwegian Forest Cat.
“Brrt!”
“It was all true,” Brandon replied, looking pleased.
“Did you get my email about Ed’s pastries?” Zoe asked.
“Yep. That’s why I’m here.” He looked over at the glass case hopefully. “If you have any left.”
“You’re in luck. We have one apricot Danish.”
“Awesome!” He grinned.
“Brrt.”
“I think Annie wants to show you to a table,” Lauren told him.
“Thanks, Annie.” He followed the feline to a table near the counter.
“Oops, we didn’t ask if he wanted coffee,” Zoe said.
“We can ask him in a sec.” Lauren plated the pastry, and with Zoe following on her heels, took it over to Brandon.
“Coffee?” Zoe asked.
“A mocha would be great,” he replied.
Annie perched on the other chair at the four-seater table.
“I’ll make it.” Zoe zipped back to the counter.
Something had been troubling Lauren for a while, and now Brandon’s presence brought it to the forefront of her mind. Surely it was safe to talk about it? They were in a public place, and the soft buzz of conversation provided an illusion of privacy.
“You look like you want to ask me something,” Brandon said, a fork in his hand.
“You’re right,” Lauren replied ruefully. “I keep thinking about that morning – when I found Todd’s – Todd. You said you heard me knocking on his door and that’s why you came over to see what was going on. But you didn’t hear the killer.”
“Yeah.” Brandon looked regretful. “I told the cops why that was. I was listening to music on my phone and I had my earbuds in. I like it really loud, and there are some good drum solos. That’s why I didn’t hear the murderer.” His mouth twisted. “I just wish I had. Maybe I could have stopped him – or her.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” That explained why Brandon’s hair had looked a little mussed at the time.
“I feel like I failed Todd. If I hadn’t been listening to my music—”
“You mustn’t blame yourself,” Lauren told him.
“Brrt,” Annie agreed.
“You couldn’t have known what was going to happen that morning.”
“You’re right.” He nodded. “But I think it will take me a while to process it all.”
Zoe arrived with Brandon’s mocha. “Have I interrupted anything?” She studied their serious expressions.
“It’s all good,” Brandon assured her. “I was just telling Lauren the reason I didn’t hear Todd’s killer was because I was listening to loud music wearing earbuds.”
“Oh.” Zoe looked relieved. “That’s one mystery solved, then.”
“Yeah.” Brandon nodded. “Not the main one, though.”
There was a brief silence.
“Okay.” Zoe glanced at the three of them again. “So why are you back here in Gold Leaf Valley? I mean, we’re glad you came to try Ed’s pastries, but you didn’t drive all this way from Sacramento just to do that, did you?”
“No,” Brandon replied. “I’m here to review the local steakhouse. Todd had it on his list before he – you know – and my editor wants me to review it again. And I can’t find Todd’s notes for Gary’s Burger Diner, so I’m going back there again, too.”
“Wayne’s steakhouse got a good review last time.” Zoe tapped her cheek.
“Yeah.” Brandon nodded. “Todd seemed really impressed with it.”
“Were you working with him back then?” Lauren asked.
“No. It was just before my time. But Todd told me he likes – liked – updating his reviews when he could, and it seemed like a good idea to critique other places in the area too, like your café. Get a lot done in one location in a few days.”
“It’s all about content and clicks these days, isn’t it?” Zoe asked.
“Yeah.” Brandon nodded.
“We had dinner at the steakhouse the other night,” Zoe told him.
“How did you like it?” he asked.
“Mm.” Lauren tried to be diplomatic.
“We had the wagyu,” Zoe confessed. “And I’m afraid—”
“We didn’t think it was worth one hundred and sixty dollars per serve,” Lauren felt compelled to say.
“We split it,” Zoe admitted.
Brandon frowned. “I’ve only tasted wagyu once in Sacramento and it was so tender, it just melted in my mouth. So it will be interesting to see if the steakhouse wagyu lives up to Todd’s previous review.”
“Let us know,” Zoe said. “Maybe Wayne was having a bad night when we were there.”
“Will do.” Brandon bit into the Danish. A minute later, he grinned. “Ed is mighty talented.”
“So you liked it?” Zoe asked.
“I loved it!” Brandon grinned. “I’ll update your review with a paragraph about this apricot Danish and post it as soon as I can.”
“That would be great,” Lauren said.
“Brrt!” Annie agreed.
They all laughed.