CHAPTER 13
Even though Mia was almost twenty minutes late arriving back at the Joneses’ house, Christina hadn’t returned yet. The house, although empty, had been ablaze with light, a stark contrast to the way she’d found her house when she’d arrived home what seemed to be days ago.
After she found the knife she sat at the kitchen table and tried to think this through. Why would someone go to the trouble of stealing her knife just to wrap it up and send it to her as some kind of practical joke? Did someone really kill Adele with one of her knives? Or was this John’s idea of a sick little joke? The guy was getting on her nerves.
Finally she picked up her cell and called Officer Baldwin. She’d reached his voice mail and left a message, and when she hung up she heated up a bowl of the soup she’d made earlier that week and turned on the television.
When the news came on she realized it was time to return to Carrie’s. She needed to clean up from the catering job. She may be arrested for a crime she didn’t commit, but she wouldn’t go without finishing her job.
As she moved the empty serving containers from the dining room into the kitchen, she tried to think through the last week. Adele’s nephew had come in as a surprise for her birthday. Then, the next day, Adele showed up dead. Stabbed. And who had a missing knife? Mia Malone, a new, thereby suspicious member of the community. Now the knife in question had been returned, so the evidence that had damned her before was irrelevant. Mia smiled. Even a bad made-for-TV movie would have better motivation.
She glanced around the kitchen for her tote baskets. She glanced at the door to the basement. Crap; she’d told Christina to take them down and out of their way. She hated basements. Mia glanced out the window, but the only car in the driveway was her van. She sighed and opened the door. The wooden stairs looked new, not like the ones in her grandmother’s basement. Mia still shuddered, thinking about the cobwebs she might touch.
Just do it. God, she hated that shoe commercial. She glanced out at the empty driveway one more time for the sports car that had whisked Christina away. Nothing. Christina was going to get a royal lecture on the importance of being dependable first thing in the morning. Even if Mia had to drag her out of bed to do it.
She strained her neck around and could see the blue plastic totes just around the corner on the bottom of the stairs. Two quick trips and she’d be in and out. Taking a deep breath, she took one stair at a time. As she reached the bottom, she heard a door open upstairs. “Christina?”
No one answered. Mia called out again. “I’m in the basement. Come and help me with these containers.”
Mia heard footsteps, and then the lights to the basement went out.
“Not funny,” Mia called up the stairs. She had her hand on the banister. “Turn the light back on.”
Then the door slammed shut. Any light that had been streaming into the basement from the open door vanished, and Mia felt the darkness surrounding her. Her arm tingled and she felt little feet crawling up toward her face. She dropped the plastic container she held and sprinted up the stairs, pushing on the door. Nothing. She tried to turn the knob. Nothing. She kept turning and, with her other hand, banged on the door.
“Let me out of here. This isn’t funny.” Mia’s breath came fast and through her mouth. She felt her heart trying to beat out of her chest. Slow down, breathe. This is just some bad practical joke.
She banged on the door again. “Seriously, let me out. I’m freaking out here.”
She heard a door open in the kitchen, or at least she hoped it was opening and not closing. Who knew how long the Joneses would stay out partying with their guests? She’d rather not be locked in their basement until they wandered into the kitchen for coffee the next morning. Forcing tears out of her voice, she called again, “Hey, open the door.”
Visions of spiders dropping from the ceiling filled her mind and she banged harder on the door.
All of a sudden the light flashed on and the door swung open, almost pushing Mia down the stairs. She regained her footing and pushed through until she was back in the kitchen. Breathing hard, she turned to face her savior and/or the practical joker. “Christina?”
“Why were you in the basement?” Christina’s face scrunched up. “Are you okay? You look a little jacked.”
“Someone turned off the lights and locked the door on me.” Mia sat on one of the black kitchen chairs. She focused on Christina, “Tell me you weren’t just pulling a prank.”
Christina put her hands in the air in mock surrender. “Not me, man. I know I’m late, but we kind of lost track of time. I just got here.” Christina knelt by Mia and put her hand on her shoulder. “Besides, do you really think I could be that mean?”
Mia shook her head, unable to speak. Her thoughts raced. If not Christina, who? And if it was Christina, why? Things were spiraling out of control and Mia didn’t like that, not one bit. She closed her eyes, let her mind focus on the kitchen witch back in her apartment, and breathed. One, two, three, time to let things be.
She repeated the chant three more times. Calmed, she opened her eyes. Christina still watched her, concern filling her face.
“Someone shut and locked that door on me. But the sooner we get all this cleaned up and packed in my van, the sooner we can get out of here. Can you go get the totes? I’m . . .” Mia paused, not willing to admit the fear that crept in just thinking about going down the steps again.
“No worries. I’ll be right back.” Christina stepped toward the basement door. “I’m sorry. I should have been here.”
“Then we’d both be there in the dark together,” Or worse, Mia thought as she waved her away. “Go get the totes and let’s get this packed up.”
Mia stood and started gathering her tools. When she came to her knife case she ran a finger over the slot where her chef knife should be, instead of being back home in a gift-wrapped box. Maybe she was looking at this the wrong way. She felt Christina more than heard her approach. Turning, she pasted on a smile. “So, how was your date?”
Christina turned beet red from the roots of her blond hair to where her neck met her collar. “Good.” Then she turned back to the basement. “One more trip and all the boxes will be upstairs.”
Mia tried to let a smile curve her lips as her helper disappeared into the basement, but she just felt cold. Christina had it bad. She grabbed one of the boxes and started stacking plates into the tote. She’d developed this system when she catered for the hotel. The lid of each tote listed what should be packed into the box. Implementing the organizational system had saved the hotel over $10,000 in lost or misplaced kitchen tools and supplies the first year after she started the process. Another feather in Isaac’s cap, not her own, as she’d found out later.
Ten minutes later she’d put the lid on the next-to-last tote. All that was left was the one Christina was working on. “You about done?”
“There’s one thing missing from the list, and I know it should be here because I used it today.” Christina glanced around the now-bare kitchen counters.
Mia’s heart sank. Not again. She carried the tote she’d finished packing over to the door where the rest were stacked. “What’s missing?”
“The corkscrew wine opener.” Christina glanced at the closed door to the dining room. “You think someone borrowed it to open another bottle after we left?”
Mia considered the idea. “Possibly.” She walked over to the table where Carrie Jones had left a check for the catering with a big thank-you written on the receipt. “I’ll just leave a note for Mrs. Jones. Maybe it will turn back up.”
She wrote out the note on a slip of paper from her notepad, slipped the check into her purse after verifying the amount, and started helping Christina to load the totes. The profits from this one catering job would go a long way to paying back the costs of the Adele party. She thought of the man she’d met that night. Maybe Barney Mann could cut her a check for her costs out of the estate. It wouldn’t hurt to ask. Maybe it was tacky, but the dead woman had ordered the party, as well as the two different proteins. She’d call the guy first thing in the morning and get a fax number so she could send the bill for the party that never was.
As she climbed into the driver’s seat of the minivan, she looked over at Christina.
“What? Why do you look like the Cheshire cat?” Christina set her purse on the floor of the van and pulled out a bottle of water. Cracking open the lid, she offered a sip to Mia.
Mia accepted the bottle, then, handing it back, asked her sous chef in training, “Ever hear of a kill fee?”
The next morning, Christina still tucked away in her bed, Mia paced in the kitchen. Baldwin had yet to call her back. She glanced at the box holding the kitchen knife and her blood chilled. Glancing at the clock, she decided to call the lawyer. Earlier, she’d completed her invoice, cringing a bit when she added in the thirty steaks and additional supplies from Adele’s request, but she had bought the stuff. It wasn’t her fault the birthday girl had been murdered. Her gaze dropped to the still-boxed knife.
“Mann Law Offices, this is Sheila. How can I help you today?” a bright, cheery voice bubbled in Mia’s ear.
“My name is Mia Malone. I understand your office is handling the estate for Adele Simpson. I have a bill I need to submit for payment. May I get your fax number?” Mia held the pen over her scratch pad.
“Honey, that thing hasn’t worked since the last snowfall. We always lose fax and, before we switched up to this other provider, sometimes phone service too. I wish Barney would just bite the bullet and add the fax line to the new guys.” Sheila had a touch of drawl in her voice. Mia wondered if she was more than receptionist to the portly lawyer. Sheila’s voice broke through her vision, bringing her back to reality. “Can you just drop it in the mail? Or come by? I’ll be here until five.”
Mia wrote down the street address and told Sheila she’d be right over. Too much energy ran through her body to sit there and do nothing. She didn’t have another catering job lined up, the renovations were still in full force on the first level, and writing up a marketing plan just didn’t seem like fun. Besides, she needed to drop the Joneses’ check into the bank. She jotted a note for Christina, promising to bring back supplies for breakfast, maybe for a cinnamon roll French toast recipe she wanted to try out. A lot of people loved having breakfast for dinner. Especially families with kids. It might turn out to be a popular menu choice if she could make it more special.
Pulling on her boots and down parka, she tucked the bank deposit along with the envelope with the invoice into an inside pocket with her wallet. Keep busy and the work will come, Grans’s voice filled her mind as she quietly shut the door and headed outside. Mia hoped that Grans’s country wisdom wasn’t off track. She needed this business to thrive sooner rather than later or she’d be forced to return to Boise to find a new job.
The sunlight twinkled on the snow-lined streets. Mia loved the way the ice crystals made the snow glimmer in the bright sunlight. According to the local weatherman, they’d be snowed in by the weekend, and she made a mental note to stock up on some new romances and mysteries when she hit Majors. Maybe a few magazines too. Christina might be too old for Seventeen or Teen Beat, but she’d seen the way she’d latched on to the celebrity rags that seemed to breed on the newsstand, a new one every week or so.
Thanks to Adele’s canceled party and the leftovers from the Joneses’ event, food wouldn’t be an issue. But buying a generator might need to be on this year’s must-do list rather than next, just in case they lost power during this storm. And now that she wasn’t going to eat Adele’s supply costs, she felt comfortable spending a bit of her savings.
She arrived at the bank and the teller handled her deposit quickly. She glanced around the deserted lobby. “Quiet today.”
“Everyone’s getting ready for the storm. We’ve had plenty of people at the drive-through and ATM, but I think you’re my first walk-in of the day.” The girl smiled as she handed Mia her deposit slip. “Anything else I can help you with?”
“That’s it.” Mia waved as she left. Yep, maybe a generator wouldn’t be a bad thing. And maybe a few more supplies than just reading material. When the hard-to-rattle townspeople started preparing for a storm, you better listen. She pulled her cell out of her pocket. Letting the phone ring, she kept walking toward the law office. The cold air chilled her cheeks.
“Good morning.” Grans’s voice, sweet and positive as ever, filled her ear.
“Hey, you want to come over and stay with Christina and me for the weekend? I’d feel better if you weren’t alone during the storm.”
“This wouldn’t be the first time I’d weathered a snowfall,” Grans chided her.
“I know, but maybe we can make a girls’ night out of it. It will be Christina’s first big storm. I’m sure she’ll be worried about you.” Mia bit her lip and waited.
“Sure, pull out the big guns about upsetting that sweet child.” Grans sighed. “Honestly, I’d love to come over. But I’m not sleeping on that couch.”
“You can have my room. I’ll take the couch.” Mia saw the brick building that housed the law offices of Barney Mann along with the Laundromat. Mia wondered if Barney owned that small business as well. “I’ll pick you up late tomorrow afternoon.”
“I’ll be ready. You know I’m bringing Muffy too.”
Mia smiled. Mr. Darcy would have a cow; he hated the little dog. “I figured. He’ll have lots of room to run around. See you tomorrow.”
She clicked off the phone and opened the door with the law office’s name painted on the window. The foyer opened onto a stairway.
She climbed the old oak staircase that shone with what seemed to be a recent oiling. The stairs had black skid strips on the rungs, keeping people safe on the trip up. A lawyer thinks of everything.
When she reached the top of the stairs two doors greeted her. One said “Private,” the other “Barney Mann, Esquire,” painted in black on the frosted glass. She turned the antique brass doorknob and pushed open the door. A gray-haired woman with wire-rimmed glasses and her hair in a bun smiled at her. “You must be Mia Malone.” The woman stepped forward to greet her, hand outstretched. “I’m Sheila. I’ve been friends with Mary Alice for decades. Oh, that sounds like we’re old. Let’s just say I know your grandmother.”
Mia smiled. Of course she knew Grans. She couldn’t go anywhere in town without someone bringing up her grandmother and their connection to her. “So nice to meet you.” She pulled the envelope out of her pocket but held on to it rather than shove it at the woman. “You must have known Adele too?”
“Adele Simpson was a mean, self-centered old bat. I don’t know how your grandmother put up with her. I don’t like to speak ill of the dead, but I would say the same thing if Adele herself stood before me.” Shelia motioned to the couch. “Can I get you some tea or cocoa? The weather’s got your cheeks all bright and rosy.”
“Actually, I’m heading over to the grocery store to stock up, and then I’ve got more errands. I’d better get going.” Mia held out the invoice. “I just charged for the agreed-upon costs and extra supplies. I think you’ll find the bill very conservative.”
Sheila grabbed the envelope and threw it on the top of her desk. “You should have charged double. That old prune is, well, was the richest woman in the Magic Springs area. And, I imagine, most of Sun Valley too.” Sheila shook her head. “A lot of good her scrimping and saving did her. I don’t think she bought a new coat in the last ten years. Life is for the living, Mia. Remember that.”
Mia smiled. Sheila tended to speak her mind. “I’ll see you around. Stay warm during the storm.”
“Oh, don’t worry. We’re closing the office tomorrow, so I’ll be snug in my cabin, reading a book and simmering a batch of my famous clam chowder. I’ll make sure this gets filed and paid as soon as we start to close the estate. You should hear something by the end of the month.” Sheila shuffled back to her desk and Mia noticed for the first time that the woman had a tendency to favor her left hip. Shelia slipped back into her desk chair and rolled over to the coffee maker to fill up her cup. She held up the coffeepot. “I could pour some of this in a to-go cup if you’d like.”
“Really, I’m okay. I’ll talk to you soon.” Mia started to open the door. Then a thought hit her. “Sheila, can you tell me if Mr. Mann’s looking into the nephew? I mean, his family connection with Adele?”
Sheila glanced at the closed door and dropping her voice to a whisper. “Where did you hear that? Mr. Mann’s been keeping that piece quiet. Adele’s will is very clear, and there’s no mention of this guy. You would think if she had a nephew she would have mentioned him.”
“Just a nagging thought. I’ve never heard of the guy before.” Mia assessed Sheila’s willingness to spill the dirt, then drove through anyway. “Who would have inherited, if this nephew hadn’t shown up?”
Sheila’s head tilted to the side. “I would have thought you already knew. It’s your grandmother. And even with the substantial amount she’ll receive, I still don’t think it’s enough to have put up with that woman all those years. I swear.”
Now Barney Mann’s words made chilling sense. He thought Danforth might do something to Grans if he thought it would help his chances at the inheritance he obviously thought was coming to him.
As she left the lawyer’s office and headed to Majors Grocery, she felt comforted that her grandmother hadn’t argued about coming over this weekend. Mia’d be able to keep an eye out for her without letting her know why she wanted her close. “Thank the Goddess for storms,” she said as she pushed through the swinging door of the grocery store.
“I always say that, but being a store owner, I have a different viewpoint. We always sell out just before the weather hits. Why are you happy for the storm?” Trent fell into step next to her as she grabbed a cart and headed to the bakery department.
“Let’s just say I get to spend some quality time with my grandmother.” Mia grabbed two loaves of fresh Italian bread. “So, how’d it go with George Kennedy? Everything okay with my inspection?”
“He’s still not sure about some of the supports, but I’ve got him to agree to another walk-through once the contractor’s done, so you’re good to go. When I talked to Brent he thought he’d have the downstairs ready for you to open in a week or two.” Trent put a bag of doughnut holes in her cart. “He’s pretty happy for the work. The winter months are usually pretty brutal for the construction guys.”
“I would think that they’d get a lot of remodel work.” Mia thought about Helen’s comments about Adele’s house. “Don’t the rich change their homes like they change clothes?”
Trent grinned. “Not quite that often, but when they do they bring in out-of-town crews and Brent’s company gets the leftover, grunt jobs. And they always want a winter discount.”
As they walked through the small grocery, Mia picking up items like butternut squash for a soup and some more fresh veggies, she realized how comfortable she felt with Trent. Isaac had never wanted to shop with her. That was why they hired sous chefs to do the shopping. Mia loved visiting the local farmers markets, talking with the vendors, looking for the fresh and new from their farms or greenhouses. She tried to tell him that was what real chefs did, but, as always, he was right and she was wrong.
Walking through Trent’s store, listening to him talk about his connections with his vendors and suppliers, she felt a kindred spirit. His arms were muscled and toned, like he spent his day in a gym rather than managing a store. Most likely he spent some time tossing the daily delivery of boxes. Mia ignored the blush of warmth in her stomach as she thought about those arms holding her.
They were stopped in front of the small book and magazine section. Trent held a book toward her and broke into her thoughts. Feeling the heat in her face, Mia took the book. “Sorry, thinking about the storm.”
“I said, I love this cookbook. The author was on that celebrity cooking show where they try to be the best chef or something. She focuses on using fresh ingredients and local and seasonal food.” He tapped the picture on the cover. “She did some tour when this first came out. Did you see her in Boise?”
Mia glanced at the book. She’d wanted to attend the gala, but Isaac had scheduled a competing catering assignment and she’d been put in charge. Funny, now that she thought about it, Isaac had attended the gala and she’d worked. Like so many other times. Idiot.
“I didn’t get to see her, but yes, I love her philosophy.” Mia tried to hand back the book to Trent.
“Keep it. My treat.” He smiled, and Mia could see that he and Levi had the same lady-killer smile. “Besides, maybe you’ll make me one of the recipes to thank me.”
“I could probably do that.” Oh my Goddess, she was flirting. She pointed at the cart. “Are the doughnut holes your treat as well?”
“Those are road trip food.”
Mia grabbed a few novels and the celebrity rags for Christina. Frowning, she glanced up at Trent. “Road trip? There’s a major storm coming and you’re planning a road trip? Need something for the store?”
“No, Brent mentioned you needed a generator. And the hardware store is already sold out; I checked this morning.” Trent walked with her to the checkout lane, where an older woman started ringing up Mia’s purchases. “Sally, don’t charge Miss Malone for the doughnuts or the cookbook. Ring those up to me.”
The woman nodded, but Mia saw the smile on Sally’s face. Another girlfriend, must be what the checker was thinking. Mia wondered how many other women Trent had bought cookbooks and donuts for.
“I don’t understand. Why are you taking me to buy a generator?” Mia watched as Trent helped her unload the cart onto the conveyer belt. Just like a normal couple. A small smile curved her lips. This might be all in her imagination, but it felt good to be with someone who actually wanted to be with her. For once.
“You want to be in that big school without one? In the dark? Without heat? I hear the place is haunted,” Trent teased as he bagged the groceries.
Mia held out three twenties to Sally. “Take that back. I don’t even want to know if someone was murdered there, or a ghost haunts the school grounds. That’s my home now.”
“Thought I’d get a rise out of you.” Trent nodded to Sally. “I’m going to be gone the rest of the day. You can reach me on my cell if there’s an emergency.” He held the two bags and nodded to the third, still on the counter. “You think you can carry that one?”
“I can carry all three.” Mia frowned. “What, you going to carry my groceries home for me? I have to say, that’s customer service gone extreme.”
“Yep. Then we’re heading to Twin Falls for that generator.” Trent nodded at the bag. “You ready, or do you have other plans for the day?”
Mia shrugged her shoulders. “I give up. I guess I’m ready.” She grabbed the bag that held the magazines, the bread, and the doughnut holes. “But I’m driving.”
“Good, because my truck’s in the shop getting an oil change.” The two headed out onto the street and the day. Just like a normal couple.