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CHAPTER 5

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A copy of last week’s Gold Leaf Valley Gazette was placed on Cee Cee’s chest.

“That looks like the lamp cord from the desk light.” Zoe pointed with a shaking finger at the black cord wrapped around the gossip columnist’s neck.

“I guess we’d better check for a pulse.” Her voice wobbled.

“Chris showed me how, and I don’t have a compact with me – do you?” Zoe turned to her.

“No.” She shook her head.

Together, they carefully approached Cee Cee’s body. Zoe touched her fingers to the woman’s wrist. After a moment, she said, “No pulse.”

Lauren glanced around the room, but other than poor Cee Cee, everything else looked to be in order – apart from the desk lamp, lying next to Cee Cee’s body.

“I’d better call Mitch.” Lauren stepped toward the door. Zoe followed.

“I wonder where Thelma and Phil are.” Zoe frowned.

Lauren pulled her phone out of her purse and speed-dialed her husband. Luckily, he answered, otherwise she’d have to call emergency services directly.

He promised to be there in a couple of minutes.

Footsteps sounded in the suddenly somber air.

“Is Mitch here already?” Zoe asked. “That was quick.”

“Thelma?” A well-dressed man in his thirties came into the reception area. He wore a smart white shirt, dark slacks, and a light-weight blazer. His blond hair was brushed back from his forehead. “Cee Cee?” He did a double-take when he saw them.

“Who are you?” Zoe asked.

“I could say the same.” His gaze flickered from the two of them to the inner office door, which they’d left open. “Where’s Thelma or Cee Cee? Or Phil?”

“We don’t know where Thelma or Phil are,” Lauren replied, trying to place the stranger. She couldn’t remember seeing him before. She exchanged a glance with Zoe, who also seemed mystified.

“What about Cee Cee?” he persisted.

“I’m afraid she can’t help you right now,” Lauren told him.

“Yeah.” Zoe nodded. “She can’t.”

“Why not? I had a piece of gossip for her column, and she also talked me into placing an ad for next week. I’m not late for the deadline, am I?”

“I have no idea,” Lauren replied, feeling awkward. All she wanted to do was sit down. Then speak to Mitch. Then return to the café and cuddle Annie for a few minutes. And make herself a mocha.

“So, who are you?” Zoe persisted.

“I’m Bryce,” he admitted. “I’ve just joined the local real estate agency.”

“That must be why we don’t have a clue who you are.” Zoe relaxed slightly.

“I think we should all step outside,” Lauren said. “The police will be arriving any minute.”

“The police?” His gaze sharpened. “What did you do?”

“What did we do?” Zoe drew in a deep breath.

Mitch strode into the room. Relief flowed through her.

“Are you okay?” He cupped her shoulders and looked at her in concern.

“I am now.” She summoned a smile.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Bryce demanded.

A uniformed office joined them and escorted Bryce outside.

“We have no idea who that guy is,” Zoe told Mitch, “apart from being a real estate agent called Bryce. He just appeared out of nowhere.”

“She’s right,” Lauren said. She quickly told him how they’d discovered Cee Cee’s body.

“And we don’t know where Thelma or Phil are,” she finished.

“Stay here.” Mitch pulled on latex gloves and entered the inner office. When he returned, he made a phone call.

“Why are the police here?” Thelma ran into the small waiting area. “Lauren? Zoe? What are you doing here?”

“We were delivering your cupcakes,” Lauren managed.

“For cupcake Friday,” Zoe reminded her.

“Detective Denman?” Phil had followed Thelma, a concerned look on his face. “What’s going on?”

“Cee Cee has been murdered,” Mitch informed them.

“What?” Thelma paled, and clasped a hand to her chest.

“Are you sure?” Phil frowned. “Where? When? How?”

“I’ll take your statement in a minute, including your movements this morning,” Mitch replied firmly. “Right now, Lauren and Zoe need to return to the café.”

He escorted them out of the building, then turned to Lauren. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” she managed to reassure him.

“I’ll probably have to work late tonight,” he warned, “but I’ll call you as soon as I finish here.”

“Okay.” She managed a smile.

They walked back to the café.

“Who would want to kill Cee Cee?” She couldn’t get the horrific last image of the gossip columnist out of her head.

“I don’t know. She seemed like a nice lady,” Zoe replied. She suddenly stopped in her tracks. “Hey, what if Ms. Tobin was right? One wrong word and someone’s feelings could get hurt.”

“Except this time, feelings weren’t the only things involved.”

***

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As soon as they arrived at the café, Lauren scooped Annie in her arms.

“Brrt.” The silver-gray tabby snuggled into Lauren’s chest, as Lauren delicately told her what happened.

“I’ll fill Ed in.” Zoe swung through the kitchen doors. Lauren could hear the sound of their voices, then Zoe emerged.

“Ed wants to know if there’s anything he can do for us.”

“No.” Lauren shook her head. “But it’s a kind thought.”

“That’s what I said.” Zoe nodded.

Ed stuck his head through the swinging doors. “Do you want to take the rest of the day off?” he asked in concern.

Lauren was tempted for a moment, then saw all the cupcakes in the glass cases, as well as Ed’s delicious pastries waiting for customers. She knew some of their regulars depended on their interactions and chats with Annie to brighten their day.

“No, I think we should keep trading as usual,” she replied. Turning to Zoe, she asked, “Is that okay with you?”

“Definitely.” Zoe nodded. “I think it’s best we take our mind off things by working.”

“No worries.” Ed returned to his pastry making.

Martha barreled into the café, pushing her rolling walker at a fast clip. Her pink capris and matching T-shirt looked cool and comfy, and complimented her curly gray hair.

“Do you know what’s going on at the newspaper office?” she asked breathlessly.

“Brrt!” Annie wriggled in Lauren’s arms.

She placed her fur baby gently onto the black vinyl padded seat of Martha’s walker.

“Yes,” she replied glumly.

“We’ll tell you all about it,” Zoe said.

“Goody.”

“It won’t be goody,” Lauren warned.

“Oh.” Martha’s face fell. “Someone didn’t die, did they?”

“Yes.” Zoe nodded.

“Oh, no.”

Annie directed Martha in the direction of a four-seater in a series of subdued brrts and brrps. Lauren and Zoe followed.

“Fill me in,” Martha urged.

“What can I get you?” Lauren asked.

“I definitely need something, too,” Zoe said. Her eyes widened. “What if we make you a special drink? I’ve just thought of something.”

“Better than hot chocolate with lots of marshmallows?” Martha asked. “Better than Martha’s marshmallow latte?”

“I think it might be.” Zoe nodded.

“Then count me in!”

“I’ll make one for you too, Lauren. But I might need your help. You’re better at steaming milk than I am.”

“You’re pretty good,” Lauren replied, but she followed her cousin to the espresso machine.

“I’m thinking a latte, with pumpkin spice mixed into the espresso, and then marshmallows as well.”

Lauren stared at her, running the combination through her mind.

“That could work,” she said slowly.

“I think so, too.” Zoe smiled briefly. “After all, most people love Martha’s marshmallow latte.”

Lauren suddenly thought of something. “What about adding hot chocolate powder to it as well?”

“And turn it into a pumpkin spice marshmallow mocha?” Zoe’s brown eyes lit up. “Genius!”

“We won’t know until we’ve tasted it,” Lauren warned.

“Let’s do it!”

Lauren pulled the espresso shot and steamed the milk, while Zoe fetched the pumpkin spice and got the hot chocolate powder and marshmallows ready.

She added the spice to the espresso, along with the chocolate powder. Pouring the milk foam into the cup, she added some mini marshmallows and gently stirred them through.

“It looks great, but I think it needs a little extra something.” Zoe sprinkled hot chocolate powder on top. “There.”

“Let’s see what it tastes like.” Lauren eyed the concoction, the aroma of the coffee and spices stirring her senses. She took a sip, and then another. “It works.” She smiled at her cousin.

“Awesome! You have that one and I’ll make one for me and Martha.”

Lauren perched on the stool, taking comfort from her pumpkin spiced beverage while Zoe set to work.

“How’s it coming?” Martha called from her table.

“Brrt?” Annie sat next to her friend.

“It’s delicious,” Lauren replied.

“Yours will be ready in a jiff,” Zoe sang out. “We had to make a prototype first.”

“Goody.”

When Zoe made the drinks, they rejoined Martha and Annie.

“What’s in it?” Martha’s eyes widened as she stared at her mug, the sprinkle of chocolate powder on top of the micro foam tempting one to taste it immediately.

Lauren ran through the ingredients. “I’ve drunk half of mine already,” she admitted.

“Take a sip,” Zoe urged. “If you don’t like it, we’ll make you something else.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Martha picked up the mug. After a moment, a big smile creased her face. “I don’t like it – I love it!”

“Even better than Martha’s marshmallow latte?” Zoe asked hopefully.

“Even better.” Martha took a big sip with evident enjoyment.

“Let’s write it up and make a special of it,” Lauren suggested to Zoe.

“Good idea. As soon as I’ve finished mine!”

They all laughed, then sobered as they filled in Martha on finding Cee Cee’s body.

“But I love reading her column,” Martha mourned. “I met Cee Cee once at the senior center. She introduced herself and said she was looking for gossip.”

“Did you have any for her?” Lauren asked curiously.

“A couple of tidbits, but she said she already knew about it, and had mentioned both items in her column.”

“Really?” Zoe asked.

“I read her column every week and I didn’t know what she printed was the same as what I told her.” Martha frowned. “Maybe she wrote it in some kind of code so nobody would get upset about it.”

“But we all knew who she referred to when she put in that wedding bells snippet about Father Mike marrying off Ava,” Lauren mused.

“True.” Martha nodded. “Maybe she put simple stuff like that in everyday language and put the real juicy stuff in some sort of code.”

Zoe jumped up and fetched the newspaper. “Let’s see.” She thumbed through the pages, making a rustling noise. “Here’s her column from last week. The wedding bells one, and ...  what about this one? A little birdie told me echoed whispers often come to a dead end.”

“I haven’t read that one.” Lauren’s eyes widened. “But—”

“It sounds like Cee Cee foretold her own death,” Zoe finished.