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They visited Mrs. Finch the next day. She showed them her own copy of the Gazette, which Father Mike had given to her yesterday afternoon during his visit.
“But Jill’s newspaper was sold out, apparently,” Mrs. Finch finished.
“Yeah, there weren’t a lot of copies left when we stopped to get ours yesterday,” Zoe said. “But don’t worry, we brought both newspapers over so you could see. And my on-camera interview with Nathan.”
“The man who was killed?”
“I’m afraid so,” Lauren replied.
Annie sat on the arm of Mrs. Finch’s fawn armchair.
Zoe placed her phone in front of Mrs. Finch, and played the interview for her.
“You sound very professional,” Mrs. Finch admired. “And this Nathan Nettlefold does seem to know what he’s doing with the questions he’s asking you.”
“I thought so, too.” Zoe grinned.
After Mrs. Finch finished watching, Zoe placed Jill’s newspaper in her lap. “See? There’s me, and Chris, and Lauren, and Mitch, and Annie.”
They waited while Mrs. Finch read the story that accompanied the photos.
“I think she did a very nice job writing about the premiere,” Mrs. Finch finally said, “but I must admit, I do prefer Thelma’s version. It had a lot more detail.”
“That’s what we thought,” Lauren agreed.
“Are you coming to the café tomorrow?” Zoe wanted to know.
“I’ll try, Zoe dear. If not tomorrow, then definitely Wednesday. I did enjoy going to the premiere but I’m afraid it took a bit out of me, even if it was door to door service with the minibus from the senior center.”
“You’re not too tired now to hear more about Nathan, are you?”
“Father Mike mentioned his death yesterday.”
“Oh.” Zoe’s voice fell.
“But you might have some more details,” Mrs. Finch added kindly.
After Zoe told her how they found Nathan’s body, and Lauren added that Mitch was in charge of the investigation, Mrs. Finch shook her head and sank back in her chair.
“My goodness! I wonder what he did to deserve such an ending. Hit on the head with a trash can lid.”
“If it was intentional,” Lauren said thoughtfully.
“What if it was a drunk stranger?” Zoe posed the question. “But we did hear what sounded like an argument, didn’t we?” She turned to Lauren.
“We did.” Lauren nodded. “But when we got out there, we only saw Nathan on the ground. There wasn’t any sign of someone else.”
The conversation turned to Mrs. Finch’s knitting group that she attended. “It does me good to get out and spend time with my friends – as well as you girls and Annie, of course.”
“Of course.” Lauren smiled.
“Brrt!”
“I wish I could still knit.” Mrs. Finch held out her slightly wobbly arthritic hands, “but I enjoy helping the others when they get to a tricky spot in their pattern. That reminds me Lauren, how is your knitting going?”
“I haven’t chosen a new project yet,” she admitted, feeling guilty. “And I need to think up a new cupcake.”
“A new cupcake should be the first priority,” Zoe teased.
“Brrt!”
They all chuckled, then Lauren and Zoe made Mrs. Finch a latte with her capsule machine, before going home.
“See you tomorrow or Wednesday,” Zoe called out, as they left her sweet, cream Victorian cottage dating from the Gold Rush era, the lawn neat and well-tended.
“I’ll be there.” Mrs. Finch smiled.
***
“I’M IN THE Gazette, just like Thelma promised!” Martha barreled into the café the next day, waving the newspaper with one hand, and steering with the other. She looked cozy in pink sweatpants and a matching sweater.
“We saw your photo in there on Sunday!” Zoe grinned.
“Brrt!”
They’d just opened on the dot of nine-thirty and Martha was their first customer.
“How about a hot chocolate with plenty of marshmallows?” Lauren offered. “Or a Martha’s marshmallow latte?”
“Hmm. Now I can’t decide.” Martha’s gray curls sprung around her face. “Gimme a hot chocolate – no, a marshmallow latte – ooh, how about a pumpkin spice marshmallow mocha?”
“That does sound good.” Zoe’s eyes sparkled. “Maybe I should have one during my break.”
“Me too.” Lauren looked ruefully at the jar of mini-marshmallows. Too many sweet treats were not good for her curves.
“I got Jill’s newspaper too.” Martha flipped open the seat of her walker and rummaged around. “But I’m not in that one.” She pouted.
“Yeah, her story wasn’t as big as Thelma’s,” Zoe agreed. “I’m sorry you weren’t in both.”
“How are your scripts coming along?” Lauren asked.
Martha had been inspired by Zoe’s success and had written another sequel to the princess movies, and had even gotten the same agent as Zoe.
“Trish says she likes it but can’t sell it at the moment. She said everyone wants gritty westerns.” Martha shook her head in disbelief. “And I’m having a bit of trouble with my retired lady detective. I’m still stuck on the first episode. I’ve gotten her out of the deserted stretch of road where her car broke down, but now she needs to solve the case and put those two hotshot detectives who aren’t so hot in their place.”
“I’m sure you’ll come up with something,” Lauren said encouragingly.
“Brrt!”
“Thanks.” Martha smiled. “Trish says to keep working on it because it sounds interesting.”
“I’d love to read it when you’ve finished it,” Zoe said.
“You bet!” Martha’s eyes sparkled.
Lauren made the pumpkin spice marshmallow mocha and brought it out to the table.
“Lots of marshmallows – goody.” Martha spooned up pink and white froth, marbled with cocoa, spice, and coffee goodness.
“Have you got any news from the senior center?” Zoe asked. “You know, about Nathan’s murder?”
“No,” Martha replied in a disappointed tone. “Nobody saw or heard anything – just us. Which means, we should solve it!” She sat back in her chair, looking eager.
“Mitch is on the case,” Lauren informed them.
“What about that pesky Detective Castern?” Martha wanted to know.
“I haven’t heard anything about him being assigned the case,” she replied. She didn’t think it was up to her to mention he might be retiring – not when there wasn’t any solid proof.
“Good. Or maybe that’s not so good. Because we could definitely solve it ourselves if Castern was in charge of it. But Mitch, I’m not so sure.” Martha looked thoughtful.
“That’s because he’s a good detective,” she said loyally. It was true.
“Yeah, but sometimes we snoop and sleuth around and find the killer before he does,” Zoe pointed out.
“Brrt!”
“I’m sure Mitch will have this wrapped up quickly,” Lauren replied, hoping she was right. She’d always been the reluctant sleuth compared to Annie and Zoe, and now Martha.
“Ooh, Zoe, do you have those new mugs you were talking about Saturday night?” Martha asked.
“I’ll get one and show you.” Zoe zipped behind the counter, rummaged around, and zipped back with one of her pottery mugs featuring Annie under a red premiere banner.
“That’s real good.” Martha admired it. “Put that on my bill.”
“Sure thing.” Zoe grinned.
“We should put one away for Ms. Tobin,” Lauren reminded her. “She always buys your latest design.”
“True.” Zoe zoomed behind the counter, wrote Ms. Tobin’s name on a paper bag, and placed another mug in it. “There.”
Three ladies came in clutching newspapers and talking animatedly to each other.
“Brrt!” Annie trotted up to them.
“Oh, look, there’s Annie,” one of the ladies said. “Aren’t you sweet?”
“Brrt.” Annie attempted to look modest and tilted her head down slightly.
They followed her to a table, and spread open their newspapers. Lauren heard them saying, “Look, there’s me, and there’s you, and there’s—”
“Zoe,” one of the ladies called. “You mentioned your mugs Saturday night. Can we look at one?”
“Sure.” Zoe zoomed to the counter, grabbed one, and zoomed over to them. “My latest design.”
“Doesn’t Annie look pretty?” one of them said. “I should get one.”
“Me too.”
“And me.”
Zoe grabbed two more mugs and presented them with a flourish.
When she sat down next to Martha, she said, “It’s lucky you reminded me to put one away for Ms. Tobin. They might sell out quickly.”
“I hope so,” Lauren replied.
“Brrt!”
The ladies visited the counter to look at the sweet treats on offer – raspberry swirl, mocha, and Norwegian apple cupcakes, and courtesy of Ed, honeyed walnut and cherry pinwheel Danishes.
Lauren scraped her chair back. “I’d better get to work.” She smiled.
“Me too.” Zoe stood.
“I’ve got Annie to keep me company, don’t I, cutie pie?”
“Brrt!” Yes!
When Lauren was behind the counter, Ed poked his head through the swinging kitchen doors.
“Did I hear Martha a few minutes ago?”
“Yes,” she replied.
“Can I talk to her for a minute?”
“Of course. Want me to get her?”
“I think that’s best.” He opened the door a little wider and she noticed the flour smears on his blue apron.
Lauren hurried over to Martha. The three ladies were still deciding what to order.
Martha looked intrigued when she said Ed would like to speak with her. Annie jumped onto the walker seat and directed Martha with a “Brrt,” toward Ed.
Lauren tactfully gave them as much space as she could.
“What’s going on?” Zoe whispered, standing behind the glass case holding the goodies.
“I don’t know,” Lauren murmured.
After a minute, Martha nodded to Ed and whizzed herself and Annie back to her table with the walker.
“Okay, now I’m super curious.” Zoe zipped over to Martha and spoke to her for a moment. Martha sat back in her chair and looked mysterious.
“Well?” Lauren asked when her cousin returned.
“She won’t tell me.” Zoe pouted. “She said it’s a secret for now, but if it happens, we’ll definitely find out.”
“I wonder what it could be?” Lauren mused, then her attention was taken up with the three ladies ordering at once.
After making three large lattes and Zoe plating cherry pinwheels and mocha cupcakes, Thelma rushed in.
“Sunday’s edition was sold out!” She sounded thrilled.
“Awesome!” Zoe congratulated her.
“Brrt!” Annie called from Martha’s table.
“Even Phil is happy with the sales. It will definitely help with revenue, and ...” she paused for effect, “...I might even get my cupcake Fridays back!”
“That’s great.” Lauren smiled.
“Yes!”
“But right now I need a large latte. And a cupcake – to celebrate.” Thelma snickered. “How about—
The oak and glass entrance door opened and Mitch strode in. Lauren’s heart fluttered, even though they’d been married for two years now. She didn’t think she’d ever get tired of just looking at him.
“I can’t stop.” He leaned across the counter and kissed her briefly. “I need some caffeine, and then I need to speak with Thelma.” He turned to face the reporter. “I’m going to need a copy of all the photos you took Saturday night. To see if we can spot something that was off.”
“I’ll grab them as soon as I’m back at the office.”
Lauren finished making the latte with a swan design on the top.
“Which cupcake, Thelma?” Zoe waved her hands around like a hostess in a game show.
“Raspberry swirl.” Thelma paid, and said to Mitch, “I’ll email them to you in a few minutes.”
“Thanks.”
Lauren made her husband a large latte with a peacock design.
“Do you want a cupcake?” Zoe quizzed. “Or one of Ed’s pastries?”
Mitch looked tempted, but shook his head. “I don’t think I’ll have time to eat one.”
“I hope you’re not skipping lunch,” Lauren said.
“No, but it will probably be at my desk. I have a ton of work to do on this case and Castern is huffing and puffing at being asked to help, since the boss has put me in charge.”
“Any more news about him retiring?” she asked.
“Just a few more items disappearing from his desk,” he replied.
As soon as Mitch departed, Ms. Tobin walked in, and admired the mug Zoe presented to her.
“How thoughtful of you to save me one.” Ms. Tobin smiled. “I must have it.”
Annie led her to Martha’s table, where the two ladies talked about the premiere for a while, before Martha stood. “I’ve got to get going, girls.” She looked mysterious again. “Annie knows, don’tcha, cutie pie?”
“Brrt!”
“I wish I knew,” Zoe said after Martha left. “It’s not like Martha to keep us out of the loop.”
“Maybe she wants to surprise us,” Lauren suggested.
“Ed knows what it is!” Zoe zoomed into the commercial kitchen and out again thirty seconds later. “He won’t tell me either. Pooh!”
“It looks like we’ll just have to wait and see,” Lauren replied.
They chatted to Ms. Tobin for a few minutes, with Annie adding to the conversation with a series of brrts and brrps.
“I must admit I was pleased to see my photo in the newspaper,” Ms. Tobin said. “Thelma did a good job writing the story, too.”
“That’s what I – we – thought,” Zoe agreed.
“Brrt!”
More customers trickled in, so they said goodbye and headed to the counter. After seating the newcomers, Annie returned to Ms. Tobin.
Lauren had just finished steaming the milk for the last latte when Donald trudged in, looking a little more stooped than usual.
“Give me that coffee I had last week,” he requested, not pausing at the Please Wait to be Seated sign.
“Would you like something to eat as well?” Lauren asked pleasantly.
“Can’t afford it. On a fixed income, you know. All the work I do for the town hall is voluntary, which means it’s unpaid. And now that stupid TV reporter had to die and the police have been questioning me!”
“What about?” Zoe wanted to know.
“Just about how I wouldn’t let him in without an RSVP. But I don’t know why they bothered. He got into the premiere anyway, didn’t he?” Donald grumped. “Why would I want to kill him? Ha! The joke’s on them – my wife gave me an alibi, and so did half the people in the town hall. I was inside with all of them when it happened.”
“Did you hear the argument outside just before Nathan – you know – was killed?” Zoe pressed.
“Nope.” He shook his head. “Sometimes I have to turn the TV up so I can hear what they’re saying. Why do people mumble on shows these days? All I could hear around me in the town hall were other people’s conversations. All the ladies seemed to talk about were their dresses.”
He stomped off to sit at a table at the rear.
“He’s a delight,” Zoe muttered.
“Maybe he’s an unhappy person,” Lauren said.
“I hope Mitch grilled him!”
Lauren made the plain cup of coffee and took it over to him.
“Thanks,” he said grudgingly.
She noticed that Annie didn’t come over to visit with him, instead she stayed seated at Ms. Tobin’s table. Her fur baby could sense when people wanted to be left alone and when they welcomed her company.
Soon it was the lunch rush, and Lauren forgot all about Donald grumbling about being questioned. But when she was finally able to take a break, she noticed he still sat at the table.
“Has he been here the whole time?” she asked Zoe.
“Yeah.” Zoe nodded vigorously. “I asked him if he wanted something else while you were busy making the lattes, but he said no.”
“I’ll go over. Do you want to take your lunch first?”
“Are you sure?” Zoe’s gaze strayed to one of the mocha cupcakes left.
“Yes.”
“Thanks.” She grabbed the treat and stuffed some money into the register. “I’ve been wanting one of these all morning!”
Lauren headed over to Donald’s table. Annie had taken the chance to have a little doze in her pink cat basket.
“Would you like anything else?” she asked, her stomach growling.
“Guess I’d better get going.” He scraped his chair back on the wooden floorboards. “Didn’t realize I’d been here so long.” He shrugged. “Now that movie night is over, I have to fold up all the chairs and put them back in the store room.”
“Do you need some help?” She made the offer before she’d thought it through.
“No. But thank you,” he said with a bit of an effort. “You’re the only one who’s asked me that.” He paused. “I’m sure Father Mike would have checked on me today or tomorrow but he’s busy getting the church repairs started, now he’s got enough money to pay for them.”
“Were you at church on Sunday?” Lauren crinkled her brow. “I didn’t see you.”
“No, but one of my wife’s friends was, and told her all about it.”
He followed her to the register, fumbling in his pocket for enough coins to pay her.
“Thanks,” she said, realizing he’d given her the correct money.
He nodded and trudged outside.
When Zoe came back from her break, Lauren and Annie walked down the private hallway to their cottage.
“Beef in gravy?” she offered her fur baby.
“Brrt!”
While Annie enjoyed her meal, she made herself a quick sandwich, and sank down on one of the pine chairs. Hopefully she’d remember to tell Mitch about her conversation with Donald that evening.
The afternoon was quieter, and all three of them were able to take a break. Lauren and Zoe enjoyed pumpkin spice marshmallow mochas, while Annie had another snooze in her cat basket.
They were just about to close up one minute early, when Thelma dashed in.
“I think your husband is going to arrest me!”