Chapter Nineteen

Furry Godmother’s advice for housekeeping: Pick up the pieces of your life before you trip on them.

I swung my car into the designated judges’ parking outside the Audubon Tea Room, then hurried up the walkway toward the foyer doors. According to a text I’d received from Eva, she was glad I’d dropped in on her this morning. She’d had a long talk with Jack, and she planned to tell everyone about her relationship with Marcellus, maybe even tonight. I couldn’t wait to congratulate her on her bravery in doing the right thing.

Mrs. Hams and the Llama Mamas waved as I approached. They’d set up a tiki hut outside the main doors to the Tea Room and dressed the llamas in grass skirts and leis. Anyone donating to their charity received a plastic coconut filled with shave ice and a “signed” photo of the llamas in hula attire. The signature was just a hoof stamp, but people were loving it. Families crowded around the hut for a chance to donate, pet the animals, and spoon up the fruity dessert. I didn’t blame them. It was ninety with a real feel of one-oh-two, and I could use some pineapple-coconut shave ice in my life. I stroked a llama’s head, dropped some cash in the jar to support a local literacy program, then accepted a lei and mini cup of heaven. The whole scenario was beyond adorable and wildly effective. In other words, it was just the kind of thing to make my mother crazy.

I gave myself a brain freeze finishing the ice before reaching the Tea Room doors. I passed my lei to an exited child and puffed air against one palm, hoping Mom wouldn’t smell the tasty sweets on my breath.

The foyer was crowded, but significantly cooler than outside. Members of the FFA lined one side of the space, holding fluffy yellow chicks and speaking to a handful of moms with kids in strollers about the adorable little peeps. On the other side of the room, the Jazzy Chicks were collecting donations for our local children’s hospital, and the display table had a crowd three people deep in every direction, all angling for a chance to drop their money into the extraordinary machine Mom had gotten from her artist friend. The globe was nearly full of cash already, and I couldn’t say for sure, but it seemed as if the Chicks might beat the Llamas this time around.

I slid a few folded bills from my wallet into the FFA’s burlap sack before hurrying into the Tea Room. It didn’t seem fair that Mom had nicked their donations with her fancy display, but the children’s hospital was a wonderful cause. Still, even Mom would admit the poor yodeling farm children should get a little something for their efforts.

Mom shot me a proud grin as I passed. She was schmoozing with donators and clearly pleased as punch with her success.

I wound my way behind the judges’ table and tucked my purse beneath the white linen skirt. Chase was holding court in the seat beside mine. A line of people and their pets were throwing rapid-fire legal questions his way.

I took my seat and watched as he unleashed his megawatt smile and sweet southern charm on the unsuspecting masses. Chase Hawthorne was one hundred percent as smart as he was pretty, and he never missed a beat. The line before him didn’t stop until he was out of business cards and the lights were getting dim.

“Nice work; now skedaddle,” I said. “The show’s about to start, and I don’t need a lawyer.”

“You need something in that dress,” he said, eyeballing me like a sailor on leave. “Protection, I think. Someone to stick close and guard your body.”

“Oh my goodness,” I chided, sucking in my stomach and squaring my shoulders. “Knock it off. The judge who sits there is going to be mad when he finds you in his seat.”

Chase leaned on one hip and dug something from the pocket of his gray slim-fit dress pants. He slicked the name tag on the breast of his suit jacket. CHASE HAWTHORNE. JUDGE.

“Shut. Up.” I laughed at the delightful surprise. “They made you a judge? Why?”

“I saw a need and offered my services,” he said with a grin. “The fact that there are a limited number of impartial folks hanging around here who are both willing and available on a moment’s notice probably helped my chances. Mrs. Smart and the other judges agreed and voted me in unanimously.”

“Imagine that,” I said with a smile. “You charmed an old lady and a bunch of women who are already in love with you to get what you wanted. Shocking.”

He kicked back in his seat and stretched long legs beneath the table. “You think I’m charming.”

Mom took the mic, and a spotlight splashed over her.

Chase leaned in my direction. “Cheer up. Your work here just got a lot more fun.”

I swiveled forward before Mom caught me talking, then bumped Chase’s shoe with mine. “I’m glad you’re here,” I said.

“Back at ya.”

We watched dogs do things I didn’t know dogs could do. Feats of speed and agility. Finding hidden toys. A conga line of poodles in every size. The tricks were hilarious and amazing. I clapped like a lunatic every time.

When Tippy, the shopping terrier, appeared, I had no idea what was in store. She pranced onto an adorable set painted to look like a miniature shopping center and went straight for a small silver cart. The pink apron at her waist was lined in white lace, and the matching bow on her head was perfection. Tippy’s oversized shopping list hung from one side of her cart, easily visible to the crowd. EGGS, MILK, FLOUR, ICING. Tippy pushed the cart on two legs along the little aisle to a typical Muzak tune. She collected one of each item from the list, placed the selections into her cart, and pushed the cart to the checkout. Her trainer mimed ringing up the sale, bagged the items, then placed them in the back seat of a remote-control car. Tippy hopped into the front seat, and the music changed to Aretha Franklin’s “Freeway of Love.” The crowd cheered as Tippy took a couple of spins around her trainer while he traded the store set for a small kitchen, complete with pink appliances and bowls marked with Ts. The trainer moved Tippy’s groceries to the counter, and then Tippy took a seat in front of the little stove until a small ding! interrupted the music. Tippy grabbed a towel that was tied to the handle of her little oven and tugged the door down. Then she did the same with a second bit of fabric tied to an interior shelf. The shelf slid out to reveal a small cake, and Tippy dug in.

I was on my feet with cheers and laughter. How could I not appreciate a tiny baking terrier?

When the night finally ended, I was completely exhausted from the thrill and still had hours of baking to do.

Chase walked me to my car at a leisurely stroll, tossing peanuts from the green room into the air and catching them in his mouth. “I’m still laughing at the wiener dog dressed as a wiener,” he said. “I haven’t laughed that hard since the last time we were judges together. We should do this again tomorrow.”

“Deal,” I said, “but I don’t think those dogs like to be called wiener dogs. It’s actually pronounced ween-ie dogs.”

Chase laughed. “My bad. I’ll try to keep it straight next time.”

A black town car stopped beside us, and the back door popped open. Mom leaned her head out. The back seat was packed with NPP Welcoming Committee ladies. “Lacy?” Mom called. “We’re going out for drinks. Why don’t you join us?”

“Sorry,” I said. “I’m beat, and I have a ton of baking to do before I can sleep. I’ve got to go home and get to it. If I have a drink first, I’ll be asleep before the first round of kitty kisses come out of the oven.”

“Don’t worry about the drinks,” Mom said. “You ride with us, and Chase can take your car to your house for you.”

I looked at Chase. “Is she drunk now?” I asked. “I didn’t say anything about not wanting to leave my car. I said I have work to do. I swear she only hears what she wants.”

“If that was true,” Mom interrupted, “I’d hear you agreeing right now.”

Chase smiled. “It could be fun. I think you should go.”

I gave Chase a crazy face, then turned to Mom and waved. “No thank you,” I said. “Another night.”

Mom scoffed. “Fine. Then will you at least run by your shop on the way home? Imogene left her silk scarf, and she’s headed there now to meet you. She wants it for tomorrow morning. She’s spending the day with her granddaughter, and it was a gift from her.”

“She’s going there now?” I asked. Had I missed something? Why hadn’t she led with that information? “Why doesn’t Imogene just use her key?”

“What do I look like,” Mom asked, “a mind reader? It’s bad enough she called me to ask you to do something. That woman, of all people, should know she’d have a better chance of getting that scarf if she asked anyone else to pass the request along, like maybe a vagrant or park squirrel.” Mom shut the door. The car drove away.

I rocked back on my heels. “Wow. She really needs that drink.”

“You probably should have gone,” Chase said. “It’s not too late. You can always call her. I’m sure she’d turn around.”

“No. I just want to get the scarf for Imogene and go home,” I said. “This week is catching up with me.”

“Wait.” Chase patted his pockets. “I think I dropped my keys.”

I scanned the dark ground at our feet. “When? Outside or in?”

“I’m not sure.” He made a lost-puppy face. “Will you stay and help me until I find them?”

I hung my head. “Okay, but we have to hustle, because apparently Imogene is going to be standing outside my shop in a few minutes.”

Chase smiled. “Perfect.”

We searched the walkway from the Tea Room to the parking lot, the mulch along each side of the walkway, the entire parking lot, and the ground around a dozen trees and shrubs near my car. When I finally insisted on taking Chase with me to meet Imogene and dropping him at home afterward, he found the keys.

In his pocket.

Weirdo.

I shook my head and said goodbye with a laugh. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who was heavily sleep-deprived and distracted these days.

The streets were dark as I motored along Magazine toward Furry Godmother. Pedestrian traffic had thinned to the occasional couple or jogger. The shops were all closed, and most people had gone in for the night or out to a pub or show. Either way, the world before me seemed desolate. A row of ON DUTY cabs lined the block near my shop, forcing me to park farther away than I would have liked.

I checked my surroundings before getting out of the car, then moved quickly toward my destination. The wide, empty sidewalks were eerily quiet, and the full moon overhead cast ominous shadows across my path. Muted sounds of jazz lifted from the courtyard of a nearby café, and my mind conjured unwanted images of the Axeman of New Orleans, an early-twentieth-century serial killer I didn’t like to think about. The Axeman was said to have targeted homes where jazz music wasn’t playing. He broke into homes and killed the residents, more often the women than the men, and he basically terrorized the city for a year from 1918 to 1919 before stopping as suddenly as he’d started. His identity had never been discovered, but he was the reason I’d earned first chair in my high school jazz ensemble.

I moved a little faster, imagining the soft pat of footfalls behind me despite the fact that I was grossly alone. I palmed my cell phone and considered putting Jack’s number on the screen in case I needed to send a quick call for help.

I stopped outside my shop. The door was ajar, but the space inside was dark.

I dialed Jack’s number and hovered my thumb over the green SEND button while I tried to think.

The glass wasn’t broken, and I distinctly remembered locking up and double-checking the door when I left, so whoever was inside had a key. Imogene wasn’t waiting as I’d expected. Maybe she’d used her key to get inside after all?

Or maybe whoever had stolen Imogene’s key was in there now.

I shook away the idea. No one had said Imogene’s key was stolen. That was in my imagination. Like the footfalls I thought I heard again nearby. And the hundred-year-old Axeman I sensed watching from the corner.

I planted my feet and leaned forward at the waist, cracking the door open. “Imogene?” I called into the void.

My muscles tensed. I strained to hear an answer that never came. “Imogene?” I tried again, moving my thumb across the phone screen to dial her cell phone instead of Jack’s.

A soft shuffling sound reached my ears, and I inched the door wider. Maybe she was in the back looking for her scarf? Maybe she hadn’t heard me calling her name.

Or maybe someone had seen her inside Furry Godmother after hours, mistaken her for me, and hurt her.

The call connected, and Imogene’s phone rang in stereo, both in my ear and inside my shop.

I swallowed a lump in my throat and flashed my cell phone flashlight over the space. Empty. I shoved my arm inside and slapped the row of light switches on the wall beside the door.

The room blazed to life, and a blast of happy voices and party horns erupted.

A deafening screech burst from my lips.

“Surprise!” the chorus repeated.

I flattened a palm to my chest, hoping to stop my heart from breaking my sternum.

Scarlet wrapped me in a hug. “Happy one-year anniversary of being the most amazing shop owner in all the land.”

She released me, and more arms opened. I was passed, hugger to hugger, until the shock had worn down to something manageable and I was certain I wouldn’t need an ambulance.

Mom, Dad, Imogene, and a collection of committee ladies stood with Mrs. Smart and a few of the judges, including Chase, near a buffet of delightful-looking finger foods and a punch bowl of something I hoped was spiked.

Mom met me at the end of a lengthy receiving line and squeezed my hand, a proud smile on her lips. “Sorry I had to be so short with you earlier. None of us could think of a way to get you to come back here when you were adamant about going home. I had to get my bossy pants on.”

I took my first intentional breath since getting the fright of my life, then threw my arms around her shoulders. Maybe I was proud to know she was proud of me or honored that she’d taken the time to throw me a party when I knew she was so busy, or maybe I was just thankful to be alive, but emotion stung my eyes. “Thank you,” I said.

Mom stroked my hair, then pressed a kiss to my head. “Anything for you, Lacy Marie. I know I get on your last nerves sometimes, but there is absolutely nothing in the world that means more to me than having you home, and I’m so proud of what you’ve accomplished this year.”

Dad put an arm around Mom’s back. He handed her his handkerchief, and she pressed it to the corner of each eye with a smile.

“I’m sorry I missed the exact date of the anniversary,” Mom said. “I let the pet pageant prep take over my life for a while when I should’ve kept family first.”

I reached around my parents in a group hug. “I didn’t need a party. I know you’re busy.” The lump was back in my throat as I choked out the rest of my little speech. “This is really amazing. I don’t think I know all these people. Where did you find them?”

Mom laughed and passed me Dad’s handkerchief. “Silly. Everyone knows you. These are your neighbors, friends, customers, pet pageant affiliates, and local shop owners. I think every invitation I sent came back with an enthusiastic acceptance.”

I pulled myself together and stepped back to look over the crowd. The number of pet pageant affiliates astonished me. “How did you get the committee and judges here before me? How could you have possibly made time to set this all up?” I looked at Chase and laughed again. “You told Chase to keep me busy.”

Mom smiled. “How’d he do? He was my last line of defense in case you still decided to go home after we drove away.”

“He made me search the ground for his car keys,” I complained.

“Imogene met the caterer and took care of things here while we finished at the Tea Room.”

I smiled. “You two have always been one heck of a dynamic duo.”

The door opened behind me, and I spun around on instinct, still antsy from the surprise-party scare and images of the Axeman swimming through the back of my mind.

Jack strode inside, eyes searching. When his gaze caught mine, he slowed and smiled.

I went to greet him, my enthusiasm growing when I realized he wasn’t alone. Willow and Henri walked in behind him.

“Hey!” I greeted them with hugs and thanks. My parents followed.

Henri had a bottle of scotch, which my dad helped him unload quickly, and Willow brought cookies, which my mom took for the dessert display.

“Sorry we’re late,” Jack said when my parents had gone. “It’s not easy to keep these two on task.” He hooked a thumb in the direction of his former partner and Willow.

“They’re cute,” I said, admiring the way they stood toe to toe and smiled through a private conversation, oblivious to the world.

“They knew I wanted to be here before you got here,” he said. “Instead, we ran late and tailed you up the sidewalk, trying to stay out of sight. I missed your entrance.”

I smiled up at him. “I’m just happy you were able to come and that I wasn’t completely imagining those footfalls. I thought I was losing my mind.”

“You can thank Willow for the sandals.” His mouth shifted into a lazy half smile.

I looked at Willow’s shoes, then Henri’s and Jack’s. Basically, he was suggesting that I never would have heard either of them coming without her. I didn’t want to imagine the scenario where a man Jack or Henri’s size followed me for nefarious reasons unnoticed.

I brightened my smile, focusing on the moment before me. “I was glad to hear you spoke with Eva this morning.”

He nodded. “Thanks to you.”

“It was the least I could do,” I said, “and I should’ve done it sooner. I let her push me away before when I knew she was hiding something. I should’ve kept trying. I figured that might’ve been why you stopped by my place last night, so I wanted to see her before I saw you again.”

Jack’s brows knitted together. “You think I came over last night to talk to you about my murder investigation?” He let out a breathy laugh and raked a hand through his dark hair. “You know I’m constantly hoping you’ll stay out of these things, right?”

“Yeah, but it’s too late now,” I said. “I’m all in on this one, and you have no idea how thrilled I am that this was a party and not a break-in.”

He grimaced. “You thought this was a break-in, and you still came inside?”

“I thought Imogene might be in trouble,” I said, “and I didn’t come inside blindly. I turned the lights on from the doorway, and I’d already checked for burglars with my phone light.”

He flashed me a disbelieving look with his ghost-blue eyes. Jack’s eyes were the first thing I’d really noticed about him. They were cool and clear like glass. The faint color of rain on a windowpane. I’d known back then I could get lost in them, but he was accusing me of murder at the time, and it put a damper on things.

A sharp whistle broke the drone of voices around us, and Mom thanked Chase for the assist as he lowered his fingers from his lips. “I just want to take a minute to thank you all for coming,” she said. “I know you love Lacy as much as I do and are just as proud and thankful for the opportunity to share this milestone with her.” Her sharp gaze landed on me, and she smiled. “Heaven knows I have my faults, and I certainly have my moments,” she said.

The crowd chuckled.

“And I’ve been called many things in my day, but my favorite of them all is mother.” She moved in my direction and took my hand, leading me away from Jack. “Lacy, you are an amazing woman, daughter, business owner, and friend. Congratulations on the one-year anniversary of Furry Godmother.”

I hugged her, and everyone cheered.

Chase performed a drumroll on my counter. His brother Carter and Scarlet joined in.

Imogene appeared in the hallway, pushing a wheeled table from the stockroom with a fancy silver cake stand in the center. A soft pink cloth draped over the top. “Time to cut the cake!” she called. Imogene positioned the cake in the room’s center and pinched the pink cloth between her fingertips. “Congratulations, Miss Lacy!” With the flick of her wrist, the pink cover was whipped away like a magician’s cape.

My favorite two-tier chocolate torte from Presto’s Bakery stood beneath a clear glass dome. Mini white fondant paw prints tracked whimsically across the chocolate frosting. A large silver knife was stabbed through the center, and something red oozed down the sides. The glass dome was streaked in matching red goo.

FINAL WARNING.