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CHAPTER 4

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So much for Lauren’s dreamy weekend, although spending Sunday with Mitch had been romantic in its own way.

The next morning after breakfast, Zoe commandeered her and Annie.

“First we’ll visit Mrs. Finch, and then we’ll go to the grocery store in case we need anything.”

“But we did extra shopping on Friday,” Lauren protested. Usually they visited the small supermarket on Mondays when the café was closed but because Lauren had planned to be away until Monday afternoon, they’d bought extra supplies the previous week.

“I know, but what if you suddenly come up with a brand-new cupcake idea?” Zoe’s brown eyes sparkled. “You’d need all the ingredients to experiment.”

“Brrt!”

Annie had helped Lauren in the past with mixing up new cupcake flavors in the cottage kitchen and seemed to enjoy her role as ‘supervisor’, while Zoe relished tasting each new creation.

Since the weather was fine, although a little warm, they decided to walk around the block to Mrs. Finch’s house. As they approached the sweet, cream Victorian, with the neat lawn and pink Dahlias, Lauren didn’t like the fact they were going to mention another death in the community, albeit one twenty minutes away.

“I wonder if Mrs. Finch knew Edna,” Zoe mused as she knocked on the front door.

“Good point.” The elderly lady had lived in Gold Leaf Valley for many years and knew a lot of the locals.

“Brrt,” Annie agreed.

“Hello, dears.” Mrs. Finch opened the door and beamed, the orange dots of rouge on her cheeks looking like the California poppies that had bloomed in her garden earlier that summer. “Lauren, I thought you were staying at the bed and breakfast this weekend.”

“She was,” Zoe replied dramatically. “And then there was a murder!”

“Not another one.” Mrs. Finch sounded shocked. “Oh dear, where are my manners? Come in, come in.”

They followed her down the lilac painted hall to the living room, decorated in tones of fawn and beige.

“Sit down,” Mrs. Finch urged, sinking into an armchair.

Annie hopped up on the sofa next to Lauren, then jumped down and ran across to the senior, elegantly leaping onto the upholstered arm of the chair.

“Hello, Annie, dear.” Mrs. Finch beamed as she gently stroked the silver-gray tabby. Lauren knew she was one of Annie’s favorite humans, besides herself and Zoe.

Zoe launched into Lauren’s adventure on the weekend, Lauren occasionally adding her own observations. When they had finished, Mrs. Finch shook her head.

“My goodness,” she exclaimed. “The poor woman – and her husband.”

“Do you know them, Mrs. Finch?” Zoe asked eagerly.

“No, I’m afraid I don’t,” she replied. “You say they’re from Sacramento originally.”

“That’s what Edna told us when we arrived,” Lauren commented. 

“I’m afraid their names don’t ring a bell,” Mrs. Finch answered regretfully.

Zoe then talked about her current pottery efforts. In the last year she’d tried knitting, crochet, string-art, bead jewelry, and had now settled on pottery for the past few months.

“I can’t wait until you see the mugs I’ve made.” Zoe beamed. “I’ve painted Annie’s picture on them and also the name of the café. I’m going to sell them to our customers!”

“They’re going to be displayed on the counter,” Lauren added, hoping her cousin wouldn’t be disappointed if a flurry of sales didn’t happen right away.

“You must let me buy one,” Mrs. Finch told her.

“Awesome!” Zoe grinned. “I’ll put one away for you in case they all sell out tomorrow!”

“Zoe’s done a good job of capturing Annie’s likeness,” Lauren added. She couldn’t draw or paint, and hadn’t realized that Zoe had talent in that area.

“But the mugs themselves are a tiny bit wobbly.” Zoe made a moue.

“I’m sure they look very good,” Mrs. Finch said encouragingly.

“We’ll see.” But Zoe seemed cheered by the comment.

After making Mrs. Finch a cup of coffee using her pod machine, they said goodbye to her, Zoe promising again to put away one of the pottery mugs for her.

“Just think.” Zoe’s eyes sparkled as they left Mrs. Finch’s house. “By this time tomorrow, my mugs might have sold out already!”

***

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EXCEPT THEY DIDN’T. At lunchtime on Tuesday, Zoe hadn’t sold a single cup – apart from the one she’d earmarked for Mrs. Finch.

“I think it’s my best one,” she told Lauren earnestly, taking it out from behind the counter. “See, hardly any wobbles—” she pointed to a slight bulge on one side of the cup “—and the handle is pretty comfy to hold. Look!” She slid three fingers into and around the handle. “The handle makes it easy to lift it up and bring it to your mouth so you can enjoy your coffee or tea or whatever you want to drink.”

The mug was a decent size. Zoe had painted them white, with Annie’s face appearing on one side, and the words Norwegian Forest Cat Café appearing on the other side, although some of the letters in the word Norwegian were a tiny bit squished.

Not that Annie had seemed to mind. When Zoe had shown her the mugs with her likeness on them, she’d brrted with pleasure.

“Maybe you should save one for Annie,” Lauren suggested. “You know how she likes to drink out of my cup sometimes when I’ve got lukewarm water.”

“I already have.” Zoe grinned. “Three. One for each of us.”

“Thanks.” Lauren smiled at her cousin. It was hard to imagine life before Zoe came for a visit one weekend and they’d all decided – Annie too – that she should stay and work in the café with them and become their roomie. It certainly hadn’t been dull, that’s for sure.

“I wonder where Mrs. Finch is?” Zoe asked, putting the mug away behind the counter. “She usually comes in the morning.”

“I hope she’s okay.” Lauren frowned. “We could check on her after we close this afternoon.”

“Deal.” Zoe nodded.

So far none of their regulars had stopped by, but the morning had seen a steady stream of customers arriving for cupcakes, Danishes, lattes, and cappuccinos.

Although Lauren baked the cupcakes, her baker Ed created the Danishes the café was renowned for. Big, burly, and gruff, he had monster rolling pins for arms but his pastries were light, flaky, and totally delicious.

“Hi, girls.” Their friend Martha suddenly barreled into the café, pushing her rolling walker.

“Brrt!” Annie jumped down from her pink cat bed and ran to the Please Wait to be Seated sign to greet her.

“Hi, cutie pie.” Martha beamed down at her. With her curly gray hair and determination, the senior was a force to reckon with. “Where should I sit today?”

Annie determined where each customer sat, leading them to a table she chose for them. Sometimes she joined them, especially if they were her favorites, and other times she seemed to know when someone preferred to be on their own.

“Brrt!” Annie leaped onto the padded vinyl seat of the walker. “Brrt!” This way.

When Martha reached a table for four near the counter, Annie chirped, “Brrp.” Here.

“Good choice,” Martha complimented, sinking down into a chair.

Annie hopped off the walker and onto one of the matching pine chairs at the table.

“Hi, Martha.” Lauren approached. “What can we get you?”

“How was your weekend away?” Martha winked at her. “Your romantic weekend away?”

Lauren’s cheeks burned.

“I wish I’d won that contest,” Martha continued, not seeming to notice Lauren’s discomfort, “but I don’t have anyone I could take. Not in a boyfriend way.”

“It didn’t go exactly according to plan,” Lauren admitted.

“Why not?” Martha’s eyes rounded. “Mitch did go with you, didn’t he? He didn’t get called into work at the last moment?”

“No, but—” Lauren hesitated. No doubt the events of Saturday night were all over Zeke’s Ridge by now, and before long, all over Gold Leaf Valley as well. Besides, she and Zoe had already told Mrs. Finch.

“Edna was murdered,” she said in a low rush.

“Who?” Martha frowned.

“The lady running the bed and breakfast.”

“No!” Martha’s mouth formed an O. “When was that? Saturday? Sunday? Monday?”

Lauren quickly told her the bare facts, then took her order of a large hot chocolate even though it was summer, and a cinnamon crumble cupcake. She fled to the counter to start the order.

“I guess you told Martha,” Zoe said, plating the cupcake.

“Uh-huh,” Lauren replied, concentrating on foaming the milk.

“Sorry. I could have told her.” Zoe patted Lauren on the shoulder. “Ooh, I know, I’ll distract her by showing Annie’s mugs.”

“Good idea.” Lauren nodded.

She watched Zoe hurry over to Martha’s table, her tray containing the cupcake and a pottery mug.

“Look what I’ve made, Martha,” she heard her cousin say as she showed her Annie’s portrait on the cup.

“Look at that!” Martha exclaimed, holding out the mug and then looking at Annie. “I’ve got to have one! It looks just like you, Annie.”

“Brrt!” Annie seemed to agree.

Lauren smiled to herself. Zoe was a good wing woman.

Zoe beamed as Lauren brought over Martha’s beverage. “Now I’ve sold two mugs!”

“Wait ‘til I tell them down at the senior center about your pottery project.” Martha stirred her hot chocolate, crammed with pink and white marshmallows, then took a big sip. “They’ll all want one.”

“I hope so.” Zoe looked delighted.

They chatted to Martha for a few minutes, then more customers trickled in.

“Maybe I should start making extra mugs,” Zoe said enthusiastically as she plated apricot Danishes and vanilla cupcakes. “So I have a steady supply for customers.”

“When do you have another pottery class?” Lauren asked.

“Next week. What if I sell out before then?”

“Write down the names of everyone who wanted one and missed out, and take a deposit,” Lauren suggested, not wanting her cousin to be disappointed if sales weren’t as brisk as she hoped.

“Good idea!”

The rest of the day passed quickly. Mrs. Finch visited that afternoon and admired the mug Zoe had set aside for her, telling Annie she would use it that evening.

“Let’s start closing up,” Zoe suggested, just before five o’clock. They were the only ones in the café.

“I’ll do the dishes,” Lauren said.

Ed had already gone for the day; he started early and finished early. He’d also left the kitchen gleaming after he’d departed so there weren’t many plates and cups to wash.

Lauren had a commercial dishwasher but sometimes it was quicker to wash by hand if there weren’t too many.

When she’d finished, Zoe had stacked all the chairs on the tables and was busy vacuuming the floor. Annie sat in her cat bed, ‘supervising’.

Zoe switched off the vacuum. “When are we going to arrange another playdate for Annie and AJ?”

“Brrt?” Annie asked, her ears pricked and green eyes shining.

AJ was a Maine Coon cat that Annie had found in the garden. Ed had instantly fallen in love with the tiny scrap of a kitten, and had adopted her on the spot, becoming a proud cat dad. But now she was sixteen months old and had grown into a much bigger cat. Sometimes, AJ came over to play with Annie, Zoe usually chauffeuring AJ from Ed’s house to theirs.

“Whenever they’d like to,” Lauren replied. “As long as it’s okay with Ed.”

“I’ll ask him tomorrow.”

“Brrt!” Annie seemed to agree.

Lauren took a last look around the empty café. Pale yellow walls, decorated with a string-art picture of a cupcake with lots of pink frosting – evidence of one of Zoe’s former hobbies – gave the space a light and welcoming air.

Lauren locked the café and they walked through the private hallway to the cottage kitchen. After a dinner of spaghetti bolognaise, they spent the rest of the evening watching a relationship drama on TV, Lauren wondering how quickly Edna’s murder would be solved.