17
“I know it was you!” Doris jabbed a finger at Rita’s face. “You think that because your little group has had the run of the place for years, you own it.”
“I think no such thing,” Rita said, crossing her arms. “You’re the one who has a skewed sense of—”
“Don’t you dare question me.” Doris grabbed the pearls around her neck and started worrying at them. “Your attempts to soil my name will not work. I have a reputation in this town. People will flock to my side if you decide to make a fight of it.”
Lena was standing behind the counter, watching the exchange with a growing sense of alarm. When she saw me enter, she gave me a desperate, pleading look.
“You think so, do you?” Rita shot back. “I’m not trying to make a fight of anything, but if I decided I wanted to, I think you’d find yourself feeling rather alone.”
“What’s going on?” I asked, breaking into the conversation before it could become any more heated. Dad had entered behind me and had taken up position at my back.
“This doesn’t concern you,” Doris snapped, giving me a healthy dose of her evil eye. “You’re one of hers, anyway.”
“Mine? Ha!” Rita rolled her eyes dramatically before they landed on me. “Doris thinks I’ve been badmouthing her, which I most assuredly have not. I wouldn’t waste my breath.”
“You have.” Doris tugged on her pearls. “I know you have. Who else runs her mouth like a—”
“Doris, please,” I said, cutting in before she could finish the thought.
The woman harrumphed, but thankfully didn’t continue. Rita was near fuming from the insinuation, however. If I didn’t calm them down, I was afraid they might come to blows.
Death by Coffee was busy, but not so much that the fight was getting in the way of customers ordering. In fact, most everyone had taken a seat so they could watch the show while they had their coffees and pastries. Free entertainment.
I glanced back at Dad. He nodded once. You’re doing fine.
“Doris,” I said, turning back to the women. “What happened to make you think that Rita was saying bad things about you?”
“I never—”
I held up a finger, cutting Rita off.
Doris narrowed her eyes at me, as if she suspected a trick. I mean, she obviously didn’t like me, and yeah, Doris Appleton was far from my favorite person, but I wasn’t about to pull one over on her for Rita’s sake. I truly wanted to know why she was so angry. If someone was out wrecking her reputation and blaming it on Rita, it could be important to what was going on elsewhere.
And hey, I could relate. I might not like her, but no one deserved to be talked about, especially if those words were full of lies.
“I received a call,” Doris said. “From the church.”
I waited a beat before asking, “About?”
“I was given a warning.” She was wrenching on her necklace so hard, I was afraid it might snap and the pearls would end up bouncing all over the coffee shop. A vision of the lot of us running around, slipping and falling as we stepped on the small white balls like something out of a cartoon flashed through my head and I nearly laughed.
Thankfully, I kept a straight face when I pressed, “What kind of warning?”
Doris’s jaw worked a moment before she said, “She claimed I was harassing other members of the church. Can you believe such a thing? I’ve only tried to do what’s right for this town, and this is how I’m repaid!”
I wondered if Elsie Buchannan was the “she” who’d made the call, and how long ago, considering I’d just left her. From the way Doris was acting, I assumed she must have gotten it while Dad and I were on the way over.
Did that mean she’d already been in Death by Coffee at the time? Or had she seen Rita afterward and followed her inside?
“Have you considered that perhaps what you’ve been doing lately is harassment?” Rita asked. “The writers’ group—”
“Doesn’t belong in a church.” Doris punctuated it with a stomp of her foot. “The content of some of your stories . . .” She blushed. “It’s disgusting.”
“Have you read any of Rita’s stories?” I asked before Rita could retort.
Doris’s eyes darted around the room. “Well, no, but I’ve heard tale of what they’re about. And I’ve seen the contents of her car, so it isn’t hard to guess what kind of stories she’s coming up with.”
“Oh?” Rita asked, temper showing as color in her cheeks. “And how would you know what the contents of my car might be? Been snooping, have we?”
“You don’t have to snoop when you can see the eyesore coming a mile away. It’s a pigsty.” A cruel look came into Doris’s eye then. In some way, I think she was enjoying this. “The smut you revel in shows in your demeanor, in the way you present yourself. One look at you and everyone knows how unclean you really are.”
“Now you listen here.” Rita took a threatening step toward Doris. So much for not wanting things to escalate.
“I don’t have to listen to a thing you say,” Doris said, bracing herself. “And you—” this time, I was the target of her finger jab, “—you should be ashamed of yourself for allowing this woman to frequent your place of business. Though, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised considering.” She shot a look at the menu board and sniffed disdainfully.
“Now that’s—”
“No. I’m done.” Doris shouldered past me and Dad and headed for the door, head held high, as if she felt she’d won the argument. She was still worrying at her pearls, so deep down, I think she was as upset as the rest of us.
Once she was gone, the entire room seemed to sag in relief. Conversation in the dining area resumed, with half the customers rising and tossing their empty cups away before leaving. Apparently, they’d only hung around to watch the show.
Rita was blinking rapidly, chest moving up and down in quick hitches. I couldn’t tell if she was about to cry, or if she was going to explode in anger.
“Are you all right?” Dad asked her before I could.
“I’m fine,” Rita said. “She came in here after me—followed me in—and started accusing me of all sorts of things, unprovoked. I never said a word to anyone about that woman, yet she swears I’ve been smearing her name all over town.”
“She’s upset,” I said. “I’m not trying to validate her actions, but I imagine she was looking for someone to blame and when she saw you come in here, she figured you were the perfect target.”
“She threatened to go to the church about the writers’ group!” Rita almost wailed it. “She claims she has proof that we’re performing evil rites or some malarky. All because she doesn’t like what kind of stories I write!”
“Why target the group now?” I asked, genuinely curious. “You’ve been holding meetings in the church forever. Has something happened recently to set her off?”
Rita glanced past me, to where Dad stood, and then looked away. “I might have turned down an offer to come to one of her meetings. It was about the evils of modern literature and she thought I might benefit from sitting in. I just knew she’d disparage everything I care about, so I kindly told her I wasn’t interested.”
“Which she didn’t like, I imagine,” Dad said.
Rita closed her eyes, took a trembling breath. “She was never kind to me, but ever since that moment, Doris has made snide comments, dropped hints that I’m a horrible person, every chance she gets. She’s always been difficult around Christmastime, but this year . . .” She shook her head. “I just don’t understand why she can’t let people celebrate in their own way. I’m not hurting anyone.”
Dad stepped forward, moving as if to put an arm around Rita to comfort her, but to my shock, she slipped away.
“I’d best be going. I’m sorry.” Rita sniffed, blinked her eyes a few times in rapid succession, and then hurried out the door without so much as a backward glance at Dad.
“She’s really upset,” he said.
“Very.” I sucked in a breath and let it out in a huff before focusing on Lena. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. But I didn’t know what to do. That woman came in here and started in on Rita and wouldn’t stop. I tried stepping in, but she acted like I was invisible.”
“I don’t think there’s much you could have done,” I said.
Eugene poked his head out of the back room, scanned the dining area, and then sagged in relief when he saw Doris was gone. He vanished into the back once again.
“Jules called before all of this happened,” Lena said. “He apologized for not calling sooner. The candy canes are ready. Beth left a few minutes ago to pick them up. She probably would have handled this better than I did.”
“You were fine,” I said. “Really. If you’d gotten involved, Doris would have started attacking you.”
“If you say so.” Lena scowled down at her hands. “I have to do better if I want to impress Chief Dalton. I should have found a way to deescalate the situation.” She shook her head and plastered on a smile. “But it’s over now. Did you want to order something or were you just stopping in to say hi?”
Dad and I went ahead and ordered our breakfast. Eugene emerged from the back and slunk around the counter to head up into the books with muttered apologies, likely for hiding. Honestly, I didn’t blame him for seeking shelter. Every time I saw Doris Appleton, I wanted to hide too.
Once our order was up, Dad and I carried our coffees and pastries to a window seat, which was a mistake. The cold seeped right through the glass, causing me to shiver, despite the fact I was still wearing my heavy coat. I pulled my hot coffee close so the steam would warm my face.
“This Doris lady seems to be popping up quite a lot lately, doesn’t she?” Dad said, stirring his cappuccino with his candy cane.
“She does.” I looked out the window, expecting Doris to be glaring in at me, but the sidewalk was empty. “It makes me wonder what her meeting tonight is going to be about.”
“Yeah.” A beat of silence. “Why don’t we go and find out?”
I stared at Dad from across the table. “Do what now?”
“Let’s go to the meeting. The church is a public place, right? We can say we’re interested to hear what she has to say. If she wants to kick us out, that’s fine. We’ll go without a fight. But if she’s willing to let us listen, then perhaps we can learn something of value.”
Like who killed Andrew Carver.
“I don’t know,” I said. Sitting in on a meeting run by Doris Appleton was not high on my list of fun things to do. “She doesn’t seem to like me all that much, so I doubt she’d want me lurking while she talks down about me and my place of business.”
Dad spread his hands. “Or she could think that her words have more power than they really do. Imagine how she’d feel if she thought she was swaying you away from Rita.”
“Yeah, I guess.” But did I really want to give her that impression. She’d surely rub it into Rita’s face, which would have Rita calling me, asking me why I’d betrayed her. “What time did Elsie say they are meeting? Seven?”
“Seven,” Dad agreed.
“Can I think about it?” I asked. “You and Laura could come to my place later for a Christmas movie. Maybe afterward, we can see about going to the meeting.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Dad said. “I think Laura does need to get out of the room more, get some fresh air.”
“She’s going to be okay, right?” I asked. Laura hadn’t seemed like herself since she’d arrived.
Dad smiled, but it was strained at the edges. “She’ll be fine. We’ll talk about it later.”
Before I could probe deeper, movement outside the window caught my attention. John Buchannan was climbing out of his car, which was parked behind my Escape. I half expected him to walk around to the front and slap a ticket on my windshield or stick a boot on my wheel. He instead turned toward Death by Coffee, rubbing his hands together as if anticipating a hot cup of coffee.
But he never made it to the door.
After only a single step, he jerked like he’d been shocked. He fumbled off one of his gloves and pulled his phone from his pocket. He barked something into it, listened, and then spat something that was obviously a curse, before shoving his phone back into his pocket. His glove slipped from his grip, but he didn’t stop to pick it up. He leapt back into his car, backed up, and turned on his dash light as he pulled away from the curb.
I looked over at Dad. I could tell the same thought that crossed my mind had crossed his own.
Something big was happening.
Without having to say a word, both Dad and I rose and carried our coffees to the door, and outside into the cold. I picked up Buchannan’s glove and took it with me into the Escape.
“Where did he—” I started to ask, but Buchannan sped right past us, heading back the other way.
“The church?” Dad asked, once again, thinking the same thing as I had.
“Elsie.”
Unlike Buchannan, who’d gone to the intersection to turn around, I made my U-turn in the middle of the street, just barely missing bumping up onto the sidewalk in front of Lawyer’s Insurance. Since traffic was mostly nonexistent, I was able to reorient myself and follow Buchannan, who was already out of sight, though I had a feeling I knew where he was headed.
But when we got to the Pine Hills church, his car wasn’t in the lot, nor was it parked on the street out front.
I drove past, perplexed, before a new thought hit me.
If it wasn’t Elsie he was concerned about, then it had to be Jules. You know, the one who’d received the gift in the first place?
My foot pressed down on the gas without conscious thought. Was I too late? Had the killer made his move on Jules while I was sipping coffee with Dad? I’d never forgive myself if that was the case, though what I could have done to stop it, I didn’t know.
But when we reached Phantastic Candies, however, Buchannan’s car wasn’t out front. Instead, it was parked farther down, on the other side of the street, with one tire propped up against the curb. I pulled up behind him and parked. Dad was the first out of the car.
“Where?” he asked.
I didn’t need to think about it. We were parked in front of Heavenly Gate. “Here.”
Detective Buchannan was standing just inside the gift shop, talking to both Lee and Agnes Komph, who were both alive and well, though they looked rattled. It was easy to see why.
On the counter behind them, was an unopened, blue-wrapped gift.
Both Dad and I pushed our way inside.
At the sound of the door opening, Buchannan glanced back. “No,” he snapped, pointing past me, to the door. “Out.”
“They got one?” I asked, indicating the gift.
“Out.” Buchannan marched forward, forcing both Dad and me back out into the cold. “What are you doing here?” he demanded, breath pluming in the air.
I held out his glove. “You dropped this.”
Buchannan scowled and snatched the glove out of my hand. “You didn’t come all the way here just to give me this.”
“I was here earlier,” I said. “They didn’t have a gift then.”
“Or they didn’t tell you about it.”
Was it possible that the gift had been here the entire time? Agnes hadn’t seemed all that nervous when I’d entered. But Lee had been angry. I’d thought it was because I was talking to his wife, but could it be because he’d found the gift and thought I had something to do with it?
“Where did they find it?” I asked.
“It was discovered here.”
I frowned. “In the store?”
Buchannan glared. I was asking too many questions.
“When I was here earlier, I didn’t see the gift,” I said. “Agnes was talking to a woman named Doris Appleton.”
“And?”
I looked to Dad, who shrugged. He hadn’t been there. “And Doris has been saying bad things about the businesses in town, including Andrew’s Gifts and Death by Coffee.”
“You think she left the box when she departed?”
“I don’t know. Maybe?” It came out as an uncertain question. “I didn’t see her leave it. But she could have come back. Or waited until after I was gone before making her move.”
“Her move?” Buchannan didn’t look convinced. “What about this Jacob character you told me about? Was he around? Could he have left the box?”
“I didn’t see him.” Which meant nothing. I hadn’t exactly been watching for him at the time.
“Does he have a connection to Ms. Appleton?”
I spread my hands. I didn’t know.
Buchannan sighed and scratched his ear with his ungloved hand. “So, you saw Mrs. Komph talking with a friend and you didn’t see her receive a gift from this friend or otherwise. You never saw this other suspect. Never saw who left the package. Do you have anything of value to provide?”
I desperately wanted to say something profound, something that would help Buchannan crack the case, but nothing came to mind. “I guess not.”
He nodded as if that was exactly what he expected. “Go home, Ms. Hancock. Enjoy the day with your father.”
“But—”
“I’ll take care of this. If I have any questions for you, I’ll let you know.”
And with that, he turned and went back into Heavenly Gate. Dad and I climbed back into the warmth of my car.
“What do you want to do?” he asked.
I thought about it, and decided there wasn’t much I could do. Not with Dad, anyway. “I’m going to take you back to Ted and Bettfast,” I said, pulling back out onto the street. “You can talk to Laura and we can meet at my place later for the movie.”
“And the meeting?”
I didn’t answer. But at this point, I was willing to do just about anything if it meant getting to the bottom of this thing before someone else ended up dead.