The next morning, on the drive into Marcall’s, I’m surprised to see how much it snowed overnight. I love being the first person to touch fresh snow. The snowflakes sparkle in the lights from the street lamps, and the snow crunches under my car tires. You know it’s early when the snowplows haven’t been out yet.
The rabbits hop easily through the snow, but Stumpy insists I carry him into Marcall’s because he doesn’t like to get his stumps wet. At least, this is what the rabbits tell me. Sometimes I think if they wanted to, they could tell wild stories about the things Stumpy has supposedly told them, and I would be none the wiser. Hopefully, they never figure that out. Nonetheless, Stumpy seems quite happy about being carried into the cafe.
As promised, Aranya has already arrived, made the coffee, and is starting on the day’s selections. I still haven’t figured out how we’ll track down Mr. Munoz to question him, but I’m hoping the answer will fall into my lap as it often does around here.
I’m shocked to find a few customers outside waiting for us to open at 6:30. I know our food is incredible, but I’m not sure that even I would wait in the snow for it. Gladys bustles in the door with the rest of them, but is horrified to learn that Damien is out for the day.
“But, but, who is making my burrito?” she sputters.
“Oh, no worries, Aranya has it covered,” I reassure her as I point to Aranya through the window, and she waves back cheerfully.
“Are you sure she knows what she’s doing?” Gladys asks in a stage whisper.
“Yes!” I respond in the same whisper. “She’s very good, I promise.”
“Hmmm. Okay.” Gladys says, looking between the two of us like she doesn’t believe a word I’m saying.
Aranya, knowing that Gladys likes her burrito just so and at just the right time, hurries out with it. Damien left explicit instructions on how Gladys’ vegan burrito must be prepared and delivered within seconds of her coming in.
“Damien isn’t sick, is he? Poor thing. Does he need some soup delivered? Does that husband of his even know how to cook? Damien shouldn’t have to cook when he’s ill.”
“I swear to you, Damien isn’t sick.”
“Well then, where is he?”
I don’t want to tell her why he’s out today, without his permission. Especially since we don’t know for sure if they’ll get approved for fostering, even though I can’t imagine they’ll be turned down.
“You know what, Gladys? I can’t tell you why Damien is out today. Not yet anyway. It’s a personal matter.”
“Hmmm,” Gladys is still looking at me suspiciously. “I guess I’ll have to take your word for it, for now. But you’d tell me if something was wrong, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes, I swear I would tell you if something was wrong with Damien.”
With that, Gladys digs into her burrito. Hopefully, I won’t have to hold her off for very long. Given her penchant for sniffing out gossip, I suspect she may figure out what’s going on before long.
Once the snowplow comes through town, and the roads are cleared, we do a brisk business all morning long. Crested Peaks townspeople are used to the snow anyway, so it’s not a big deal for them. And with a lot of tourists staying at the Hotel Glacier, they just walk over.
I’m caught off guard, however, when Neil Doyle, Shauna’s boyfriend, stops in mid-morning.
“Hey there Neil, welcome to Marcall’s.”
“Uh, hi,” he responds.
I realize that even though I know exactly who he is; I don’t think he remembers me from the other day as the missing shoe lady.
”Is Damien here?”
“No, he’s out for the day. Can I help you with something?” I ask, thinking about how Damien seems extra popular around here today.
“My girlfriend and I are getting married, and we wanted to talk to him about catering our reception.”
“Oh!” Shauna and Neil got engaged? When did this happen? “When did you get engaged?” I ask because this seems sudden. I have to think Shauna would have mentioned it the other day wouldn’t she?
“Just yesterday,” he answers.
“Oh yay! And congratulations.”
“Should I just come back later, maybe? When Damien is here? I don’t even know if he does catering, but we just love his cooking so much we thought we’d check.”
“You know what? Why don’t you leave your contact information, and I’ll have him get back to you?”
Neil nods his head. “Sure, that will work, thanks.”
I grab a piece of paper and pen from underneath the cash register and hand it to him while I watch him scribble down his information. Just as he’s finishing up his note, he bumps a stack of clean dishes I have sitting on the counter, and they nearly fall to the floor. Luckily, I stop them all, freezing them in mid-air.
“I’m so sorry, that was a close call.” He smiles when he realizes the plates are frozen in place. “You’re a witch,” he says.
“I’m not sure I’m a very good one,” I explain as I reverse direction on the plates, but miss one that crashes to the floor.
“Oh my gosh, I’m such a klutz. Let me pay for that,” he insists.
“Nonsense,” I tell him. “I drop dishes all the time. I won’t let you pay for it.”
“How about I order two breakfast burritos to go, then? I’m starving, and as I already said, my fiance and I love Damien’s cooking.”
“Now that I’ll let you do. What kind?”
“How about two Damien Specials?”
I poke my head through the window to tell Aranya that we need two specials, as we like to call them. Then I ring up Neil’s purchase at the cash register while storing his note in a safe place for Damien to find when he gets back.
“Enjoy the burritos!” I call out as he leaves.
“I’m sure I will!” he responds.
He waves at us as he walks past the huge picture window in front, and I see him pass Drew on the sidewalk.
“Hey there stranger!” I say, happy to see my hardworking boyfriend pay us a visit.
“I’m just here to grab a burrito for lunch and ask you if you want to go to the North Pole Pop Up Sale tonight at the Evergreen Town Square to do some Christmas shopping.”
“Oh, yeah, that would be fun! I’m in.”
“Maybe we could grab a pizza afterward for dinner?” he offers, knowing the quickest way to curry favor with me is pizza.
“That sounds even better!” I tell him. “Can I ask how the case is going?” I don’t need to tell him which one he obviously knows.
“I promise that we are investigating every angle, but you have to know that finding that syringe in Chloe’s truck is still the most damning piece of evidence we have. Just because everybody in town despised Morley doesn’t make them all viable suspects.”
“I get it. I just—”
Drew holds up his hand. “I know, you just know that Chloe didn’t do this. But that’s not enough to ignore the murder weapon found on her property.”
“But she told me that when she got there, the morning after Morley died, the door was unlocked, and she never leaves it unlocked.”
“And she explained all of that to us as well. But if that’s true, she should have contacted us immediately, rather than opening the truck for business and planning to call us later that day,” Drew scolds.
“But how could she have known someone broke in and planted the syringe? She’s being framed!”
“Or she made that up. We have no evidence that anyone other than Chloe had been in the truck. We only have her claim that the door was unlocked when she got there. Until we have something concrete on someone else, she remains our number one suspect.”
I sigh heavily. Why does he always have to be so practical?
“Have you heard anything from Damien, by the way? I know the social worker was going to their home this morning.”
“We haven’t heard anything yet, but you’re an even bigger hero to him than you already were, I hope you know!”
“Why?” Drew asks, looking genuinely confused.
“Because of your glowing recommendation! They told Damien that they nearly skipped the home visit based on your word alone.”
“Oh, well, that’s great.” Drew says, blushing. “I’m happy to help. I’m sure he and Tom will be great foster parents. And I have to get back to work now,” he declares, glancing at the clock. “But I’ll see you after work,” he tells me, leaning in to give me a quick kiss. I swear it’s utterly crazy that after nearly a year of being with him, my stomach still flip flops every time we kiss.
As soon as he leaves, three more hungry customers come in, and after that, we have a steady flow of diners for the next hour. It just starts to slow down when I get a text:
Charlotte, this is Shauna. I need you at the travel agency immediately.
What on earth could be wrong? For a moment, I get my hopes up. She wants to confess to murdering her step dad. But of course, it’s never that easy.
I write back. What’s up? Are you okay?
Just get over here as fast as you can.
In the past, I’ve gotten in trouble with Drew for responding to texts like this without contacting him first. But as I start to press his number on the phone, I reconsider. It’s just Shauna asking me to come to the travel agency and not meet behind the Hotel Glacier, like last time. And I’m pretty sure if I tell Drew that Shauna texted me and told me to come over right away, he’s going to wonder why I’m bothering him with something so silly.
“Hey Aranya, are you okay by yourself for a bit? Shauna wants to see me at the travel agency.”
“Really? Why is she asking for you? She just met you.”
“I don’t know,” I shrug, “but I think it’s worth seeing what she wants.”
“Okay, sure, I’m fine here. If I get into trouble, I’ll text you.”
“Thanks, and make sure the rabbits and Stumpy stay here. I don’t feel like chasing them down when we close tonight.”
“Will do, boss!”
I throw on a coat and walk quickly toward the travel agency. The wind is particularly biting today, and I don’t want to be out in the cold weather for long. I slow down though, when I see a CPPD patrol car parked out front. Great. What’s going on now?
I almost turn back when I realize if Drew finds out I’m here, and thinks I’m interfering in their investigation, he’ll be fired up. But then the cold air spurs me on. I’m sure it’s nothing. Maybe the officers who were driving the car aren’t even in the travel agency. They could be next door, at the Roses are Red Flower Shop, right?
But when I get closer, I see that the CPPD is indeed inside the travel agency talking to Shauna, and it’s Drew with a patrol officer. I start to turn on my heel, hoping no one saw me when Shauna spots me and waves frantically at me to come in.
Drew turns around to see who she’s waving at and when he realizes it’s me, he doesn’t look happy. As usual, I’ll have to plead innocence and tell him I didn’t come down here on purpose and that Shauna texted me.
“Hey, what’s up?” I ask, trying to sound nonchalant.
“Oh Charlotte, I’m so glad you’re here. I didn’t know who else to call!”
“You called us!” the patrolman points out.
“I mean besides you,” she says, like that was the silliest thing she ever heard.
“You said it was urgent?” I ask, shrugging my shoulders at Drew, who’s really giving me the stink eye now.
I have proof. I can show him the texts!
“Someone broke in here while I was at lunch and left this on my desk!” Shauna wails, snatching a piece of paper from the patrolman’s hands.
Now he’s the one glaring at me.
She shoves the paper in my face. The message appears to be written with a black sharpie in big letters: You’re next! And then a picture of what I assume is meant to be a cupcake. She looks really scared.
“Did Chloe do this?” she suggests. “I heard she’s out on bail.”
“Uhhhhh,” is all I can think of to say right that second. But then a resounding, “No! There’s no way.”
“That’s evidence!” Drew growls while holding his hand out. I gingerly place the note back in his hands. The officer with him holds up a large plastic bag that they place the note in.
“Do you have any security cameras in here?” Drew asks.
“Yes, of course,” Shauna responds.
“We’ll need to see the footage,” the officer says as he scans the ceiling for the cameras.
“No problem, I’ll transfer this afternoon’s footage to a flashdrive, and you can take it with you.” Shauna puts her hand on Drew’s wrist, and I notice it’s trembling. “Do you honestly think I’m in danger? I can’t imagine that anyone who knew me at all would think I supported Morley in any way.”
Then she touches my arm. “Charlotte, can you remind Chloe that I hated Morley and I’m glad she killed him? I think she did us all a favor. I don’t understand why she would turn to me next!”
“Charlotte will do no such thing,” Drew responds so sharply that Shauna and I both jump. “She’s not supposed to be involved in any case, although clearly she’s been here recently. Officer Morgan here will discuss this with Chloe, not Charlotte.”
“I understand,” Shauna whispers. “Whatever you think is best.”
“No way Chloe did this Shauna, it has to be the real killer.” I squeeze in before Drew can kick me out of here.
He turns to me. “Charlotte, you can go back to work now. And do not contact Chloe!”
I nod my head as I scamper out the door. I just don’t know what to say to Shauna. I can’t imagine Chloe doing something like this, which means there’s still a killer out there, and I’m worried who could be next.
I walk as quickly as I can back to Marcall’s. Since I’m not supposed to tell Chloe about this, I need to talk this over with Miranda. She’s sure to have answers. I duck into Marcall’s first though to make sure Aranya is still okay before heading across the street. But when I open the door, Miranda pounces. I swear she has radar.
“Have you heard anything from Damien?” Miranda asks.
“I was just getting ready to come talk to you!” I blurt out.
“Oh no, it’s bad news!”
“How did you know?” I ask.
“I didn’t, really. I’m just guessing.”
“Wait, what are you talking about?”
“What are you talking about?” Miranda asks, raising an eyebrow at me.
Aranya shakes her head. “You’re talking about two different things. Miranda is wondering if you’ve heard from Damien about the social worker’s visit.”
“Oh.” I pause. “I haven’t, and it’s making me really anxious. What if something went wrong?”
“Or maybe no news is good news?”
“I don’t know, but I really want to text him and find out what’s going on. Maybe he doesn’t know yet? Or may they already told him they didn’t pass?”
“How could they not pass?” Miranda looks skeptical. “There’s no way, right? They must be a shoo-in.”
As we continue to debate whether to reach out to Damien to find out what’s happened, we don’t even realize he’s walked in the door.
“Ahem.”
We turn around. “Damien!” I shout.
“How did it go?” Miranda cries. “Are you parents? Did you pass? Do you have your little girl yet? What happened? We need to know!” she blusters, grabbing him by the shoulders and nearly shaking him into submission. She really needs to stop sampling so much of her own supply.
Damien grabs Miranda’s hands to keep from falling over backward. “We passed!”
“No way! That’s amazing!” I exclaim.
Breathing a tremendous sigh of relief, he turns to me. “We owe Drew big time. He really put us over the finish line. The social worker said Drew’s recommendation was huge.”
“Wow!” Miranda says, her eyes shimmering with happy tears.
“So what’s next? Are you still getting the little girl?”
“She should move in by this weekend. But now we need to shop for furniture! We need a bed, and a dresser, and a nightlight, and I think we also need a little table for arts and crafts or reading or whatever she wants to do, and she’ll need toys and clothes. I can’t believe this is happening!”
By now, Damien seems on the verge of hyperventilating, so I steer him over to a chair to sit down and relax. I don’t need him passing out in the middle of the cafe.
“There’s plenty of time for that,” I reassure him.
“I’m happy to fill in for you as long as you need!” Aranya shouts from the back.
“See, we’ve got you covered. You’ll be fine.”
“Okay, yeah, of course, I’m just so excited I can’t believe it. I should go back. I just wanted to tell you guys the good news in person. A text just didn’t seem right given the circumstances.”
“Either way, I’m glad you let us know. We were getting worried,” I tell him, patting him on the back. “You guys will make fabulous parents. She is so lucky to have found you.”
“Hang on a second,” Miranda says, finally remembering and turning to me. “Where were you earlier, and why did you say you had bad news for me?”
“Why do you have bad news?” Damien asks.
“You know, it’s not important right now. We’ll talk about it later. Right now, we’re just here to celebrate. Just stay five more minutes,” I insist. “I think I saw some champagne in the refrigerator once upon a time—”
“Got it!” Aranya shouts, brandishing the bottle I knew Damien must have stashed in there, just in case.
“Grab some glasses and bring it out!” I tell her as I flip the sign outside to close and lock the door. It’s almost closing time anyway, and we need something to celebrate.