Contents

Title Page

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Also by Sue Hollowell

Cat Sugar Cookie Recipe

SUGAR COOKIES AND SCANDAL

A Belle Harbor Cozy Mystery

Book 4

Sue Hollowell

Sugar Cookies and Scandal

Copyright © 2021 Sue Hollowell. All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved.

This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher.

Cover by

Donna L. Rogers - DLR Cover Designs

Editing by

Tiffany White at Writers Untapped

CHAPTER ONE

“Oh, where is that vet? This couldn’t get any worse.” Florence paced with Gwinnie in her arms in the lobby of the veterinarian’s office. Her mid-calf-length floral dress swished each time she made the turn at the end of the room and returned. She looked more like she was going to the Kentucky Derby than taking her cat to the vet. Florence tipped her head down and touched noses with her beloved feline.

I stood and joined Florence’s march. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Cats have kittens all the time,” I said. “And Dr. Lester is a pro.” I had only heard that. I didn’t have firsthand knowledge myself.

“Not my Gwinnie!” Florence stopped and stared at me. She covered the cat’s ears with her hand. “What are we going to do with all of those kittens?” Florence plopped down onto one of the cushioned benches along the wall, making more noise than the pregnant cat. I sat next to them and attempted to pet Gwinnie. I secretly hoped it would calm Florence.

The receptionist appeared in front of us; her nametag said Wendy. “It shouldn’t be long now. I’m sorry for the wait. Dr. Lester is running a bit behind. Would you like me to take Gwinnie and make her comfortable in the back?” Wendy reached for Gwinnie, and Florence turned away, hugging the cat more snugly. She wrapped the blanket over her and tucked it in.

“No, only Dr. Lester,” Florence snipped.

I shrugged. What was Florence’s end game? Was she planning to stay by Gwinnie’s side during the birth? I wasn’t sure if the vet would allow that. I sincerely hoped not. That just didn’t seem like it would end well for Florence. Or maybe anyone.

I sat back on the bench. Not much to do right now except wait.

Gwinnie, for her part, was quite the trooper. A soft meow now and then for when she must have had a contraction. I reached again to pet Gwinnie and Florence allowed it this time.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Florence whined. She rocked as if soothing a child, the vinyl of the seat squeaking with each move. I had never seen someone so upset at their pet having babies. Florence stood to resume her walk.

I looked at my watch. Thankfully, I had completed my morning baking early today and Uncle Jack had agreed to deliver Mocha Joe’s order while I escorted Florence to the vet. This might be a long day waiting for those kittens to arrive.

The receptionist sat behind her computer, periodically glancing my way for guidance. Until the vet arrived and personally attended to Florence, we were stuck in the waiting room.

The door to the lobby opened with a whoosh. Barney, the Belle Harbor police chief, entered, followed by Uncle Jack’s upstairs tenant, Justin. Barney beelined to Florence with his eyebrows raised toward me, inquiring more detail about the situation. Florence stood and Barney gently enveloped her and Gwinnie in his arms. He took her elbow and they returned to pacing.

I followed them and directed my comment to Barney. “Dr. Lester is running behind. But she’ll be here soon.”

Barney nodded and continued escorting Florence.

Justin and I sat, the loud squeak of the seat startling Florence. She swung her head over to us, her mouth in a frown. Barney geared her back to the path they were walking. “What’s going on?” Justin whispered.

I whispered back. But with the quiet of the room, everyone heard the conversation. “Gwinnie is having her kittens.”

“Oh,” Justin replied.

“Oh is right.” Florence stood right in front of us. “I really hope that mangy cat of yours isn’t the father,” she said and quietly sniffled. “Oh, Barney. What am I going to do?” She plopped onto the seat and stroked Gwinnie’s head. The meows began to get louder and more frequent.

“Let’s take one step at a time, hon,” Barney said. He inserted himself between Florence and Justin.

To say Barney and Florence were opposites was an understatement. They had met when Florence rented the vacant space next to Uncle Jack’s Checkered Past Antiques store to open her book shop. Barney had come to investigate a dead body she had discovered as she was moving in. If not for Barney’s love of books, the classics specifically, they probably wouldn’t be together. He had joined her book club and the two had become inseparable.

Justin stood and motioned me to follow him outside. I closed the door behind me and looked through the window to see Florence and Barney huddled over the small bundle in Florence’s arms. If that vet didn’t arrive soon, we all might have to tag team the delivery of those kittens.

“Do you think Willie is the dad?” Justin asked, his face slack. Willie was Justin’s cat that somehow always found himself wandering the antique shop. Uncle Jack and I had bought three beds for Willie so he could lounge around the shop and watch me as I baked. Not long after Florence and Gwinnie had moved in, it was clear the two cats were hitting it off. If Gwinnie wasn’t at the bookstore, she was next door with us. Justin’s normally chill, surfer dude demeanor was replaced with wringing hands and beads of sweat on his brow. “Tilly, what are we going to do?”

I snickered. “Justin, they’re kittens. They’re going to be adorable.”

He flung his arms out like he was trying to flick off the tension, then breathed in slowly. “I know. She’ll never forgive me,” he said, tilting his head toward the door. Maybe.

“Let’s go back in. The vet’s probably here by now.” I held the door for Justin and he entered.

Barney and Florence looked up. They had resumed their walk up and down the hallway. “If they look like Willie, I just—” Florence started. She shook her head and Barney placed his hand on her back.

Justin dropped onto the bench, his head in his hands. The clock on the wall showed that we had been here almost half an hour by now. I approached the reception desk. “Any word yet?”

Wendy looked toward Florence and shook her head. “I’ll let you know as soon as she arrives.”

By now Uncle Jack was probably wondering what in the heck was happening. He hadn’t gotten along with Florence from the beginning of their relationship. His way of making friends was to be funny and kind. But that combination hadn’t worked with her. Through his persistence, and gifting her a tea set from the antique store for her book club, he had created a crack in her armor. No telling with the arrival of kittens what would happen next. I pulled out my phone, figuring I had a few minutes to give Unkie an update.

I couldn’t remember a time when I hadn’t been in Belle Harbor, though it really wasn’t all that long in the scheme of things. It was enough time to start my baking business that I had always wanted to open, just like my Grandma Luna. Uncle Jack had carved out a corner of the antique shop for my first kitchen, and I was off and running. Starting over at the age of forty wasn’t my plan. But my ex and his girlfriend had other ideas. My life was now becoming everything I wanted it to be.

I dialed the phone and waited for Uncle Jack to answer. If I couldn’t reach him, I would at least leave a voicemail update.

A scream echoed from down the hall. Justin sprung from his seat, and Barney and Florence wheeled around toward the source of the sound.

CHAPTER TWO

Barney looked around, his gaze landing on Florence. He dipped his head and ordered, “You stay here with Gwinnie.” Barney looked at me and disappeared down the hallway.

The receptionist sped out around the counter, her eyes wide. “That sounded like Dr. Lester,” she said. As she started to follow Barney I grabbed her arm. The tone of the scream wasn’t from someone who had only seen a spider. My gut rumbled with the feeling something more ominous had occurred.

“Why don’t you wait a minute until Barney has a chance to check it out?” I said.

Justin joined me at my side. “That didn’t sound good,” he said.

“I can’t wait. What if she needs me?” Wendy asked. She peered at Florence, who had returned to her seat and had her head bowed over Gwinnie. Evidently concluding she may be useful in the lobby, Wendy took a seat on the bench near Florence.

Faint sobbing emanated from the hallway. I hoped Barney returned soon for an update. If he wasn’t able to stay by Florence’s side during the birth, I wasn’t sure I could handle it.

A loud yowl came from Gwinnie and Florence squealed. “She’s doing it. She’s having the kittens,” she said.

Wendy rushed over and took hold of Florence’s arm. “Let’s get her into a room.”

Florence complied. Another ear-piercing yowl came from Gwinnie. It was go-time. I looked at Justin. He held his hands palm up out to his side, appearing indecisive. I grabbed his hand and followed Wendy, Florence, and Gwinnie down the hall. We entered single file into an exam room with a waist-high table in the center and waiting chairs lining the wall.

Wendy pulled a few blankets from a shelf and piled them on the table. She gestured to Florence to place Gwinnie in the middle of the mound. Florence had transitioned into a compliant patient.

Gwinnie yowled again. “Oh, my poor baby,” Florence said, stroking Gwinnie’s stomach, which had begun to move all around from the little ones about to join the world.

The door opened and Dr. Lester entered. Her hair was mussed like she had just gotten out of bed. Her white jacket was on inside out. “I’m so sorry I’m late. How is she doing?” she asked Florence.

“She’s having kittens!” Florence yelled. Gwinnie stood and turned in circles as the head of the first kitten poked out into the world. “See?” Florence pointed.

Dr. Lester petted Gwinnie’s back. “She’s doing great. Let’s make sure we give her some space.” She looked around the room. Justin was in the corner as far away from the table as he could get. Maybe he should return to the lobby.

“Justin?” I asked.

He looked up, his face a chartreuse shade of green. “I’m OK,” he said and held out his arm. He looked far from OK. But if he fainted, at least he was close to the ground.

The first bundle of joy had now fully joined the world. Gwinnie got busy right away with mama duties of cleaning the little one up. “How many are there?” Florence asked.

“We never know for sure. But four wouldn’t be out of the question,” Dr. Lester said. “I’m sorry, Florence, that we’ve got the drama this morning. But don’t worry.” She tried to smooth her frizzled hair.

Gwinnie continued birthing the little ones until the predicted fourth had arrived. She stood on the table, attending to each wriggling kitten, ensuring they were all cared for. As she completed the cleaning, we saw that all four kittens were black with white paws and white chests, the spitting image of Willie.

I grabbed Justin’s hand, pulled him toward the table, and pointed.

He looked at me and gulped, then he looked at Florence, ready for her wrath now that the evidence clearly showed Willie was the father. “Florence,” he started, taking a step toward her.

Florence held out her hand. “Don’t start with me,” she said. She retrieved a tissue from her purse and dabbed her eyes. She moved to a chair opposite Justin and sat. “We might just have to move away after this.”

Dr. Lester and Wendy attended to Gwinnie and the four kittens. A soft purr came from Gwinnie, proud of a job well done. And rightly so.

Justin approached Florence. “I’ll pay to help with the expenses for the kittens until we can decide what to do with them,” he said.

“We?” Florence said through gritted teeth. “You should have been paying attention long ago and this wouldn’t have happened to my Gwinnie.” She stood and approached the table, stroking Gwinnie’s head as she lay there with the kittens noisily nursing.

“I understand you’re upset. But can we look at the positive?” Justin said, pointing to the kittens. “Look at those adorable fur balls. And we’ll figure something out.”

“What am I going to do with five cats?” Florence whimpered.

Justin stood next to Florence at the table, overlooking the little feline family. “I’ll help find good homes for them. Tilly, maybe you could adopt one,” he said.

What? When did I get to be in the market for a pet? My life was busy enough without taking care of another creature. I’d never had a pet before. Oh, Justin, I wish you hadn’t said that. He looked at me, pleading for support.

I joined him and Florence at the table. “Well, I guess I could adopt one.” My heart was saying things my brain was not in agreement with. My logical mind said this was nuts. My heart wanted to adopt all four of those kittens. Goosebumps spread across my arms. My new life was all about adventure and living to the fullest. Why not add a little one to my home?

The door to the exam room opened, and we all jumped. Barney quietly asked, “How is the new mama doing?” He joined Florence and put his arm around her. She leaned into his hug. Slurping was the only noise we heard. For just a moment it was all about the new life.

Barney released Florence and gestured to Dr. Lester to meet him in the corner. He whispered to the doctor, “I have the crime scene techs here. It will be several hours.”

Dr. Lester shook her head. “I just don’t know what could have happened. Nicole was regularly late. She was supposed to be here before patients arrived to set up for the day. Why would someone strangle her? And with one of my leashes?” she asked and collapsed into a heap on a chair.

“I don’t know. But we’ll find out,” Barney said.

The scream we heard must have been Dr. Lester finding the vet assistant’s body. Did she have something to do with it? Was Nicole late one too many times? Did they have an argument about something that got out of hand? Was there more than just Nicole’s tardiness? I shook the thoughts from my head, certain Barney had those same questions and would be following that line of thinking in his investigation.

For now, we all had other, more pressing feline matters to deal with. Like who would care for the new arrivals? Uncle Jack was not going to believe this. I was sure he would see the amusing angle of the situation—that all of the kittens looked like Willie.

CHAPTER THREE

I stood in the kitchen and gazed through the small dining room to the open area of my cottage. With my friend Fiona’s decorating touch it was starting to have personality. Maybe today I could scout out the estate sale for more pieces to add to my collection. Though they may not have many items for a beach theme. I was all in for the ambiance of the ocean and sea. It refreshed my being in so many ways. The sound soothed my nerves. The predictable ebb and flow, always leaving the beach freshly washed, sometimes depositing new treasures to discover.

A light tap-tap-tap on the door jostled me from my thoughts. Fiona dropped by for a quick bite of breakfast. Although I had been up several hours baking, I couldn’t ask her to get up that early. She had her late nights tending to the bar she owned. We had to compromise on a meeting time. I pulled open the door and Fiona bounded in. Always full of energy, her long blond ponytail bobbed as she headed to the kitchen.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Fiona said.

I shook my head and chuckled. “One of these days, you’ll have to spill the secret for your boundless energy.” I pulled plates from the cupboard and retrieved a knife from the drawer. Fiona had brought bagels and cream cheese and two coffees from Mocha Joe’s.

She pulled up a stool at the eating bar. “Caffeine helps. But the key is your mindset.” She grinned. “We have so much to talk about.” She pulled a bagel from the bag and began pasting the insides with the strawberry-flavored cream cheese. “First, tell me about the kittens.”

I grabbed a bagel and chose the savory spread. “I don’t even know where to start. The part I didn’t tell you on the phone is that the vet’s assistant was found strangled in the back room.”

Fiona coughed and spewed a few bagel crumbs onto the counter. She chewed and swallowed the remainder, snagging a napkin to clean up her mess. “I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell me that yesterday?”

I finished my bite. “I figured it was more of an in-person conversation,” I said and washed down the bagel with the delicious coffee from Joe’s. “There’s not much to tell yet. Thankfully, Barney was there.”

“Wow, all of this drama. What a day,” Fiona said.

A tap-tap-tap on the front door interrupted our talk. We looked at each other and I shrugged. Fiona was typically my only visitor. I could see through the window that it appeared to be a man. Anything out of the ordinary always had me think for a split second about Uncle Jack being in trouble. And not the good kind. The closer I got to the door, I could see that it was my neighbor, and chicken parent, Rocco.

I pulled the door open. “Good morning, Rocco.” I gestured for him to enter.

He peered into the room and raised his hand in greeting, “Hello.” He turned toward me. “I’m so sorry for interrupting.”

I led him into the room with Fiona. “Don’t worry about it. We’re just having breakfast. Join us?”

He took a few more steps toward us. “Are you sure?”

“Is everything OK?” I asked. I got another plate and pushed it toward him.

He bellied up to the counter and looked inside the bagel bag. “I guess. I just came to tell you that I won’t have any more eggs to give you for a while.” He placed both hands on the counter, his head down.

“That’s OK. They were a bonus for me anyway. Just keep what you need, I’ll be fine,” I said.

Rocco shook his head. “The thing is, they aren’t laying any at all now. At least when they are out and about, for some reason they produce a ton. That’s why I always had extras for you.”

Fiona had finished her bagel and hugged her coffee cup. “I don’t know much about chickens, but is that normal?”

Rocco breathed in and out slowly and loudly.

I pushed the bagel bag even closer to him, encouraging him to take one.

“I know I could do better,” Rocco said and accepted my hint. “I try to keep them in the fence, but they’re always getting out. I’m not sure I was meant for this.”

I stood on the kitchen side of the eating bar, finishing the last bite of my bagel. “I’ve never figured out how they get all the way to Florence’s Bookstore and why they want to go there.” Rocco had finally prepared his bagel and was eating. “I know. The last time I went to retrieve a couple of them from her, she made some veiled threat of chicken dinner.”

Fiona snickered. I gave her the wide-eye look. “I’m sure she wasn’t serious. She’s mostly just big talk.” I hoped my words were true. “She’s got a lot on her hands now that her cat had kittens.”

Rocco’s tone remained serious. “The thing is, it’s not uncommon when I arrive to see a chicken cuddled up with her cat in one of the cat beds she has at the store.” He shrugged.

“I’m thinking she’s just being protective. I wouldn’t worry. But maybe fortifying the fence might help you contain them a bit better,” I said.

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Rocco said. He stuffed the last of the bagel in his mouth and mumbled, “Sorry again to bother you. I better get.” He waved and let himself out.

Fiona held her stomach. “I almost couldn’t keep it in,” she said. “It’s sort of funny, not funny.”

I rinsed our plates and loaded them into the dishwasher. “She is probably going to be more protective now with the kittens.”

“Yes! Give me the play-by-play,” Fiona said.

I leaned against the counter, sipping my coffee. “Speaking of funny, not funny. You won’t believe it. All four kittens are the spitting image of Willie.”

Fiona leaned forward, her eyes bulging. “Get out!” she said.

I nodded. “Florence was beside herself. And frankly, so was Justin. Except for a different reason. But Fiona, they are so cute. I wonder if Florence would let us each adopt one.”

Having a little company in the evenings would ease my loneliness. But would it be fair to the cat to leave them alone all day? I heard that they are fairly independent. And snuggling a little fur ball would be wonderful to come home to after a long day’s work.

“Really?” Fiona asked.

“I’m serious. If you saw them, you would want them all. I’m having to restrain myself to just one. Assuming Florence agrees,” I said.

Fiona pointed at me. “You know she will probably make people sign a contract.” She chuckled.

“You’re laughing, but that sounds like her. Maybe I could try another peace offering and broach the subject. Though, I should wait a few days. The shock of everything will take a while to wear off.”

Fiona stood and looked at her watch. “Keep me posted on the vet assistant too. I know Nicole could rub some people the wrong way, but she really did have a passion for animals. That part is very sad.”

I followed Fiona to the door. “Thanks for coming so early,” I said and closed the door behind her.

I really needed some quiet to ponder the recent events. How does one decide whether to adopt a kitten? My emotions overruled my head and ordered me to forge ahead. Maybe I should listen to my heart more often. What if I adopted two of them so they wouldn’t be lonely when I wasn’t home? I shook my head. Tilly, don’t even go there.

CHAPTER FOUR

I pulled up to the large, Victorian-style home located about a mile from town. It sat on about an acre of land with mature landscaping, providing the feel of a sanctuary. The place would do well as a bed-and-breakfast. I parked my moped next to Unkie’s car in the driveway. He didn’t normally run estate sales, so I wasn’t sure why he agreed to take this one on. I suspected the lure of the stories about the old pieces drew him in. From the size of the house, there would likely be tons of stuff available.

I headed to the porch where the front door was open, covered by a screen. I knocked lightly and let myself in, stepping into the entryway. “Hello,” I called out. Not hearing anything, I stepped further into the hallway. My heart pounded. It felt a bit rude to barge in. “Hello,” I repeated.

“We’re in the kitchen, Til,” Uncle Jack said.

I looked around the living room as I followed the sound of Unkie’s voice. The furniture held boxes stacked three high. Several wall hangings were propped in a display on the floor. The longest wall in the room was a bookcase entirely filled with books. Note to self: See if there are books I might offer to Florence. I wove through the piles of treasure that at one time appeared to the be the pride and joy of someone’s life.

Through the arched doorway I entered the kitchen. Uncle Jack stood. He embraced me and pointed to the woman seated at a kitchen table. I judged her to be a bit younger than Uncle Jack, but I was never good at the age guessing game. She had a youthful look with silver hair in a pixie cut, makeup done simply, and small silver dangling earrings. She wore a blue and white paisley blouse topped over white capri pants. She looked like she was ready for a day on a boat. “This is Linda. Linda, Tilly, my niece I’ve been yammering on about.”

Linda stood and shook my hand. “Nice to meet you. Join us,” she said and gestured to one of the seats. She moved a pile of papers from one of the place settings to the kitchen counter.

“You have a lovely home,” I said. I raised my eyebrows at Unkie and slightly flicked my head toward Linda.

“Thank you,” she said and took her seat. “It’s just time for another family to enjoy it,” she quietly uttered, her head down. “I’m thinking I might like to move to one of the cottages where Jack tells me that you live.”

“I really enjoy it. It’s close to the beach so I can walk to work, and I can hear the ocean and smell the sea air,” I said. “This is a lot of house for one person.”

A small plate of treats sat in the middle of the table along with two empty coffee cups. “Tilly, Linda is an accomplished baker,” Uncle Jack said. He gestured toward the plate. “She’s plying me with her delicious shortbread. What’s it called again?”

Linda chuckled. “Salted caramel millionaire’s shortbread. They’re addicting.”

Unkie snagged another piece. “That’s three, but nobody should be counting. Tilly, maybe you could consider Linda for your assistant position.” Uncle Jack gobbled up the dessert.

I looked at Linda. “Would you be interested? I have a good problem of not enough time for all of the business I’m getting. It would be part time for now.”

Linda smiled and gazed into the distance through the sliding glass door. “It would get me out of the house more. Why don’t I come by for a trial and we can see how we work together?” she said.

“Perfect!” I clasped my hands together in front of me. “Right now Uncle Jack set up a kitchen at his Checkered Past Antiques store. But eventually I’ll have my own place,” I said.

“Let’s get back to business,” Uncle Jack interrupted. He took his pen and made some notes on a pad in front of him. “Linda, you’ve done a great job at organizing and grouping what you have. We probably need a marathon session to do the pricing and staging.” He was all business. Was there something else going on that I interrupted? He fiddled with his pen, poking it on his chin.

I stared at him and squinted. “Let me know what I can do to help,” I said.

Unkie’s cheeks flushed and he avoided eye contact. Yep. There it was.

I reached my hand and placed it on his arm. He tipped his head and began writing. I stifled a laugh. Might we have a love interest on our hands for Uncle Jack? Linda was delightful, and I would love nothing more than for him to find someone to join him in life’s adventures.

Uncle Jack stood. “You have several things here that I think I could find buyers for. One I might be interested in myself is the set of model trains.”

Linda stood and they moved into a room adjoining the dining room. I followed into what looked like a den. The train set was assembled on a tall table along one wall. “That is a beauty. You like trains?” she asked.

Unkie pursed his lips and glared at me behind Linda’s back. I was thoroughly enjoying myself and covered my snicker with my fist.

“I like being able to sit back and let them take me on a trip,” Uncle Jack said. He picked up one of the train cars and examined it, gently returning it to its track.

Linda joined him at the table. I stood back, observing the duo, imagining them as a couple. “Have you ever been on the Coast Excursion?” she asked.

Unkie shook his head. “You’d think I would have after living here all this time. But not yet.” He smiled warmly and tucked his notepad under his arm, moving to another bookshelf and examining the multitude of items.

“Hey Auntie, you in here?” said a voice from down the hallway.

Linda turned. “Well, now we both have our nieces here,” she said.

A curly-haired woman and her brown and white spaniel dog joined our group. “Oh, and you brought Daisy,” Linda said and stooped to scratch the wiggling dog behind her ears.

The curly-haired woman said to me and Uncle Jack, “Hi, I’m Jenna. Thank you so much for helping my aunt with all of this.” She swung her arm around the room, her hair bouncing from the movement. The dog approached me for a greeting, whimpering until I crouched to provide her attention.

“Cute dog,” I said.

“She is a doll, even if she can be demanding,” Jenna said and tugged the leash to retract Daisy to her side. “She’s a bit lonely, though.”

Linda stepped forward and lowered her voice. “Jenna is a dog walker and one of her clients was Nicole from Dr. Lester’s office.” She somberly looked back and forth between Uncle Jack and me.

“I’m so sorry,” I said to Jenna.

“It had been a while since Daisy and I had seen her. She abruptly canceled her business. And it was right around then when referrals from Dr. Lester’s office stopped coming in too.” Jenna bent and gave Daisy a long hug. “I’ve had to take some part-time jobs to make ends meet ’til business picks up again.”

Uncle Jack cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” he said in a gravelly voice.

“Yes,” Linda started. “We do have a lot to do if we’re going to be ready in a few days.” She stopped and looked around, as if absorbing the memories one last time before she parted with her treasures.

We all migrated back to the kitchen, following orders from Uncle Jack for next steps. My mind wandered to Jenna’s statements about Nicole. What was going on with Nicole that she suddenly stopped using Jenna’s services? Did she hire someone else? Was there an incident with Nicole’s dog that Jenna wasn’t sharing? And why had Dr. Lester’s office stopped referring to Jenna? There was something she wasn’t revealing.

CHAPTER FIVE

Today I would venture on a new route for my run. Not that I had mastered the previous paths, not even close. I liked a variety of activities to keep my interest high. And cross-training my body would make me stronger. I knew the hill would be a challenge so I decided to approach it with intervals. Run for ten steps, walk for ten steps. I looked up the incline from the bottom and reconsidered. From my vantage point it looked straight up. I turned away from the road and gazed over at the sun setting into the ocean. Maybe I should just do another jaunt along the boardwalk. It wasn’t like it was a wasted run if there wasn’t a hill. I psyched myself up and turned to face the path. OK. One foot in front of the other, just like life.

I slowly began a jog, ten steps. My thighs started to tighten, my calves joining suit. I stopped and walked ten more steps. This wasn’t so bad. I started my second ten steps jogging. My legs more loudly objected to the strain. I stopped. At least I had gone farther than nothing at all. I bent over, my hands on my knees, gasping. How could I be so out of breath from taking thirty steps? This was definitely more of a demand than the flat boardwalk. I wanted to be stronger. I had big plans and I needed to be here for the long term. Without having a clue how hard this would be, I naively set a goal to reach the top. Now with more information, I decided one final interval for tonight would suffice. I adjusted my goal to be more progress each time, instead of a specific destination.

Maybe if I diverted my thoughts from my run, I would get more accomplished. There was certainly a lot to ponder. The joy of the kittens arriving positively distracted me. The more I considered it, the more I really wanted to adopt one. Caring for another living being helped shift the focus from my own world. I was tickled pink that Linda had come into mine and Uncle Jack’s life. And she might be here to stay. I couldn’t force her and Unkie together, but if I did end up hiring her as an assistant, they would surely begin seeing each other on a regular basis, and who knew? Well, shifting my thoughts helped keep the focus from my leg pain—but only for a smidge. That was enough of the hill for tonight.

I turned again, ready to descend to a saner level for the remainder of my run. At the bottom of the hill, I spotted Jenna’s bouncy hair and both of her arms outstretched with several leashes attached to dogs. It looked like a scene from the Iditarod race, sans snow. I could hear her voice, but not the words she was yelling. She pulled on the leashes to contain the excited dogs. With that gesture, one of them broke free and sped up the hill toward me. I ambled toward the approaching dog with my arms outstretched.

I crouched and hugged the medium-sized, curly and furry black poodle. She bowled me over and started licking my face. I tried to hold her at arms’ length.

“I’m so sorry. She’s very friendly and gets away often to greet everyone,” Jenna said. She yanked the leashes to control the other five dogs who obviously wanted to join in the frenzy.

I stood. “It’s fine. She’s a doll.” I grabbed her collar and took the end of the leash that Jenna handed me, hooking her up to the crew again.

Jenna reeled in the leashes close to her so that all of the dogs were inches from her legs. “They’re all just a little out of sorts since Bonnie isn’t here anymore.” She tipped her head toward the dogs and yelled, “Knock it off!” She looked up. “Sorry, I think we are all just a little stressed with things.”

I knelt next to the pack. “It’s understandable,” I said, trying to pet all six at once. Maybe seeing that she couldn’t handle six dogs would hopefully make her cut back for everyone’s sake.

“Normally, they behave just fine. But it’s probably better that Bonnie is with Nicole’s sister,” Jenna said.

I got up, wiping the fur from my shirt and shorts. “Maybe. I don’t know much about dogs,” I said.

“Well, I do. When they all get together, they want to play. Sometimes in the rough housing there can be an issue, but that’s normal,” Jenna said. Her head was down and she seemed to be talking to herself more than me.

What kind of issue was she referring to? I mumbled “Mm-hmm” to try to keep her talking.

“It wasn’t my fault that her dog came home limping. That breed can have issues with their knees. But you would think she would know that being a vet assistant and all. Plus, Bonnie was so clumsy,” Jenna continued. Was it worse than she was letting on? How could I find out what really happened to Bonnie? Owners protected their pets like a rare treasure. I couldn’t quite relate yet, but if something happened to a kitten I adopted, I would be beside myself too. Was there some type of confrontation between the two? Perhaps Nicole’s sister could shed some light.

“How about Jack and Linda, huh?” I asked, changing the subject. I didn’t want her to feel like I was grilling her about the dog.

She looked up at me, her lips pursed, brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“They might make a cute couple,” I said.

She shook her head and looked off into the distance. “Oh, yeah.”

Where was her mind? Did I startle something in her with my line of questions? “I’m looking forward to the estate sale. I haven’t been to one of those before,” I said.

“I’m glad my aunt is finally downsizing all of her junk. That place is just too much for one person to take care of,” Jenna replied. She jerked the leashes again to calm the wriggling dogs. I needed to let them go so the dogs could return to their walk.

“Well, nice to see you again,” I said and started a fast-walk toward the beach. I raised my arm and waved goodbye. Her treatment of those dogs didn’t sit right with me. But maybe you had to show them who was boss.

I worked into a slow jog to the boardwalk, now able to retain a consistent pace on more level ground. The tide was out and the ocean was calm tonight, only small ripples disturbing the surface. The families had exited the beach for dinner, leaving a muted scene. I continued my route toward the giant Ferris wheel. I would turn there and head back to my cottage. There should be plenty of time at the estate sale to quiz Jenna further. I wondered if Barney had her on his list of interviews for the investigation of Nicole’s murder. She was now firmly on mine.

CHAPTER SIX

“Do you think these will do the trick?” I asked Uncle Jack. I packed the cookies into a to-go box. It had been a long day of baking, and I was looking forward to hiring an assistant. Mostly to help with the workload, but also to have company. And the fact that Linda and Uncle Jack got along was a bonus.

Unkie shook his head. “I never know. But they are cute. You’ve really outdone yourself again with creativity,” he said.

I closed the box. “I doubt that. I just hope Florence appreciates the gesture.” I had special ordered a set of cookie cutters in the shape of cats. I baked up an entire batch and practiced decorating them just like Gwinnie. It was a challenge to get the gray color just right with only a touch of white in a few places. I thought they were adorable too, but Florence would be the judge.

I hung my apron on the hook in the kitchen, ending my baking day. “I also saw some of those books at Linda’s that Florence might like for her store. She doesn’t really have much of a collectibles section. I’m thinking I’ll get them for her.”

Uncle Jack headed back toward the cash register. “You’re always so thoughtful,” he said.

I joined him at the counter. “You coming?”

He looked up from his paperwork. “I do have a lot of prep for the estate sale.”

I grinned. “You avoiding Florence? Why don’t you just tag along? I’ll do all of the talking,” I offered.

Uncle Jack looked at the box of cookies and back at me. “I can’t say no to you. Let’s do it.”

I looped my arm around Unkie’s and we headed next door. Not quite dinner time, the beach was still full of people who were eking every second of joy from the sand and sun. We turned into Florence’s and stopped just inside the door. The chickens that had been stalking the place outside on a regular basis had now taken up residence in her store. From the looks of the scene she had adopted an if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em attitude.

Three cat beds were visible from our vantage point. The bed near the checkout counter housed Gwinnie and a couple of the kittens for what looked like nap time. The mama had her eye on another nearby bed where two kittens were cuddling with a hen. The hen snuggled with the two like they were her own. A third bed across the room held two more hens as if they all had transformed into cats.

I looked up at Florence, who was ringing up a customer. She handed them their purchases in a bag and came out from around the corner. She lowered her chin and said, “Yes?”

Her hard shell was firmly intact. “Hi, Florence. We brought you a treat,” I said and extended my arms with the box of cookies.

She gazed inside and took the box, turning it around. She looked up, and I swear her mouth moved from the stern frown to at least a more neutral position. “Are these . . .?”

“Yes. I tried several batches to get as close to Gwinnie as I could,” I said. “I hope you like them.” I glanced at Uncle Jack, uncertain if he should interject or not.

He blinked and slightly shook his head, opting to keep his comments to himself for now. Likely a good choice.

“They are very pretty and look just like my Gwinnie,” Florence said. Her voice caught in her throat. She set the box on the counter and stepped over to the nearby bed, gazing at the mama with her babies.

“You’ve sure got a houseful here,” I said, gesturing to the other beds.

She picked up one of the little balls of fur, stroking its back as it quietly purred, eyes closed. She hugged it to her chest, one eye on Gwinnie, and returned the kitten to the bed. “Yeah, they kept coming back, so I gave in,” she said and stepped over to the bed where the other two kittens snuggled with the hen. “They haven’t been laying any eggs either. I’m not sure why they stopped.”

“Do you know what you’ll do with the kittens?” I asked.

Florence sniffled and shook her head. “No. When I first learned Gwinnie was pregnant, I was quite upset. When all four of the kittens came out, I was horrified that they all looked like . . .” Florence flung her arm in the direction of the antique shop. “Willie,” she said, choked up. She crouched down and petted the kittens and the mothering hen. “But look at them. I want to keep them all, but I can’t.”

I stepped closer to Uncle Jack. I hadn’t cleared any kitten adoption with him, but I hoped my offer might prompt him to do the same. He might like to have company too in his home. “Would you consider letting me adopt one?” I asked.

Florence looked up, her eyebrows pinched together over the top of her glasses. Unkie reached down and helped her up. “They are my grand-kittens, even though they look nothing like my Gwinnie,” she said. “I guess having them adopted by people I know might feel like I’m keeping them together.” She gazed between the two beds holding the kittens. “Maybe.”

I subtly elbowed Uncle Jack. He squeezed his eyes closed, looking like he wanted to vanish. “I would also love to adopt one,” Unkie blurted. His eyes remained closed.

Florence and I swiveled our heads his direction. “Really?” she asked. “If you did that, then we would just need to find homes for the other two,” Florence said.

We? Perhaps this was progress in our relationship with Florence. All of us joining together to care for the batch of kittens. What could possibly go wrong? Uncle Jack’s eyes were still slammed shut. His jaw muscles flexed in and out like he was mad at a piece of chewing gum.

Florence stepped forward, addressing Uncle Jack. “Would you really adopt one?” she asked.

Unkie opened his eyes for direct contact with Florence. He glanced at me and back to Florence. “Sure, I’d be happy to,” he said.

What had just happened? Had the arrival of the grand-littles actually sprinkled some magic on this relationship?

Florence stepped around us, back to the check-out counter. “Thank you. I just don’t know how I’m going to handle five of them.” She sniffled.

We all turned toward a clucking noise from the other side of the room where a hen and two kittens were. They were all out of the bed, the little lady ushering the babies over to their mama for mealtime. Never mind five of them, there were really eight, including the chickens. Although, it appeared they were actually pretty good babysitters.

“Well,” Unkie said. “We should probably get back to the store.” He touched my arm and we headed toward the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Florence.”

I felt like I was exiting the Twilight Zone, hardly able to contain my laughter. My diaphragm clenched as I tried to hold in my giggles. I couldn’t believe what I had just witnessed. But then again, every day with Unkie was an adventure.

CHAPTER SEVEN

I eased my moped into the parking spot in front of the veterinarian’s office. I closed my eyes for a second, visualizing calm and peace between all parties. I removed my helmet and saw through the glass door that both Justin and Florence were already in the lobby. I slowly opened the door to avoid disturbing Gwinnie and her babies. Justin stood, his shoulders slumped. His location was completely opposite Florence’s at the other end of the room. He glanced at Florence and back at me, slowly smiling, then held out his hand for me to join him on the bench.

Justin leaned over and whispered, “I’m so glad you’re here. You could cut the tension with a knife.”

Florence looked our direction, dagger eyes toward Justin. Would she ever forgive him for this? Willie and Gwinnie were adorable companions. And they had made beautiful babies. But Florence always had the taste of the silver spoon in her mouth, and that extended to her cat. Nothing would ever be good enough for Gwinnie.

I approached Florence, asking, “How is everyone doing?”

She patted the seat next to her. That was quite the overture. I quickly sat before she changed her mind. She turned the crate with the little feline family for me to see inside the door. Mama Gwinnie peered through the grate, snuggling her little ones, a whole lot of purring inside. It was settled—if Florence allowed us to adopt the kitties, I was all in.

Wendy was missing from the reception desk. The place seemed pretty disorganized since we were here previously for the birth. I scanned the room from a different perspective, trying to see if anything jumped out at me that might be a clue to Nicole’s murder. Leashes with the vet office branding lined the wall in a variety of colors. Did someone come through the lobby and grab one before heading back to strangle Nicole? Was Wendy involved? And what would her motive be? Was she the only one here at the time of the murder? If so, did she hear anything? I was sure these were exactly the same questions Barney had.

Right on cue, the lobby door opened and Barney entered. “I’m sorry to be late, my love,” he said to Florence. He sat next to her and pecked her cheek. That gesture produced a warm smile on her face. Barney bent over and gazed inside the crate. “Ahh, they’re so cute.”

Florence sniffled.

“We’ll figure it out,” Barney said and patted Florence’s knee.

Florence pulled a tissue from her purse and dabbed her eyes. “I just don’t know how I can give them up,” she said.

Barney looked at me behind Florence’s back. I shrugged. We had offered adoption, but perhaps she had reconsidered.

Justin appeared in front of us, wringing his hands. He said, “Maybe we could split custody so that Willie and I can help care for them?” His eyes pleaded with Barney for support.

Florence lifted her head, appearing to consider the option. She said through gritted teeth, “We wouldn’t be here in the first place if it wasn’t for the both of you.”

Barney stood and faced our group. He held out his arms in a halting gesture. “Why don’t we all take a breath and calm down. I’m sure we can figure this out,” he said.

I felt bad for Justin. But really, the both of them should have considered this could happen since they had not had the cats neutered or spayed. I bet that would change after this. And perhaps the blessing in disguise would be kittens for a few of us to help mend some relationships.

Barney’s pocket buzzed with his phone. He patted it and said, “I’ll be right back.” He pulled the phone out and looked at the caller ID. He turned and pointed a finger at the three of us. “You all behave while I’m gone.”

I stood. It felt like we had been here for hours, but really it had only been ten minutes. My muscles were tight, in part from my running, but mostly the tension of the situation. I began to pace the hallway leading from the lobby to the exam rooms. I couldn’t hear a soul in the back, except the pets that had stayed overnight for likely recovery from procedures. I was sure someone must be here, because the front door was unlocked. All of the doors bordering the hallway were closed. I returned to the lobby, feeling a bit more relaxed. I moved my shoulders and neck to stretch.

Barney returned to the room, which had remained silent. He made eye contact with me, locking our gazes in solidarity. We needed to tag team Florence and Justin to keep the truce. He slightly lifted a finger and pointed to the leashes lining the wall. I interpreted his gesture to confirm that a leash from the vet’s office had been used to strangle Nicole. I closed my eyes, not wanting to visualize the scene.

Footsteps emerged from the hallway. “I’m so sorry for the wait, everyone. Come on back,” Dr. Lester said. Barney rushed to pick up the carrier with Gwinnie and her babies. We all silently fell into a single file, following the doctor. We entered an exam room, circling the center table. Barney hoisted the crew for the doctor. “I’m having to take on more tasks since Nicole is gone,” Dr. Lester said. She crouched to look inside the crate and gently began retrieving the little ones.

“It must be hard to find such a specialized person in a small town,” Barney said.

I whipped my head around. He did not just attempt interrogation during the checkup, did he? I leaned forward to ensure I clearly heard Dr. Lester’s reply. This could be very telling.

Dr. Lester cupped a kitten in her hands, smoothly stroking it while she examined it from all angles. She shook her head. “It is hard. And I thought I found the perfect employee in Nicole. She had incredible bedside manner, and all of the animals loved her.” One by one Dr. Lester retrieved the kittens, saving mama for last. “Sadly, it was too good to be true,” she said. “I had to do something.” She extracted Mama Gwinnie from the crate, who kept an eagle eye on all of us and her babies at the same time. Quickly, Dr. Lester returned her to the sanctuary.

Do something. What did that mean? She couldn’t be confessing anything so publicly, especially with the police chief front and center. Disciplinary action for her employee? Was there a confrontation? Did Dr. Lester think she was untouchable?

Barney raised his arm to scratch his head, slightly bumping my elbow. That jostled my thoughts back to the present.

Dr. Lester closed the crate door and said, “Well, everyone looks very healthy. If you want to adopt them out soon, we’ll just need to start their vaccinations. And the new owners will need to commit to finishing the regime.”

Barney reached for the crate and Florence collapsed into a chair. She buried her head in her hands. “I just don’t know what to do,” she blubbered.

We all looked at each other, unsure how to proceed. Barney took the lead and sat next to Florence, placing a hand on her back. “One step at a time, love,” he said.

I couldn’t imagine how Florence felt with the prospect of adopting out the kittens, like giving up a little part of yourself. If she did agree to allow me to adopt, I pledged to go out of my way to assure her of my excellent care of the little one.

CHAPTER EIGHT

My morning was a rush. I arrived at the bakery an hour earlier than usual to make sure I could complete the new order for Joe’s. If I didn’t find an assistant soon, I might just have to bunk at the antique shop to make it to work on time. Plus, I wanted to make sure I had time to help Unkie at Linda’s estate sale. I had no doubt he could handle it, but he expected quite the crowd given her endless number of treasures.

As I neared Linda’s house, I realized I would have to park quite far away. Cars lined both sides of the street leading to the house and filled the driveway. I hoped that was a good sign for the sale. I parked my moped at the end of the line. As I approached the house, several people were hauling purchases to their vehicles. One buyer had a truck and trailer filled with furniture.

I wove through the maze and entered the front door. People stood huddled in small groups, muttering and pointing. The vibe was electric. If Unkie did more of these sales, I might have to consider being his assistant. This was a lot of fun. I could see the attraction of the stories behind all of the pieces. I continued down the hallway that I knew led to the kitchen. Uncle Jack was nowhere in sight.

I moved to the dining room where stacks of china sat around a table and hutch. I picked up a beautiful cream-colored teapot and examined it from all sides. The top and the base had a handle in the shape of a harp. The teapot base was designed as shells. And the sides had green decorative shamrocks. I tipped it over to see a label of Belleek with a black marking of what looked like a dog, a harp, and a lighthouse. I looked around the room. Linda had an extensive collection of the Belleek pieces. They were beautiful. I gently returned the teapot to its place and continued my search for Uncle Jack.

I recognized the man’s deep voice coming from the den we visited the other day with the train set. Uncle Jack was seated at a table with a long line in front of him, checking people out. I looked around at quite a few empty spots where those treasures used to be. More than half of the items for sale were still in place, quite a lot to go. I stepped up to the table. Uncle Jack’s forehead glistened with perspiration. It wasn’t warm in here, but he looked like he had been doing a workout.

“Hey, Uncle Jack,” I said.

He looked up toward my voice and his shoulders relaxed. “I’m so glad you’re here. We’ve been going gangbusters since we opened,” he said.

“How can I help?” I asked.

Uncle Jack handed me a clipboard and pen. “If you could note down the purchases of each person and the price total, then when they get to me, I’ll just take the payment.”

I saluted him. “You got it! That should make it go faster.”

Unkie returned to helping the person in front of him. I approached the second person in line and they showed me the tags from the items they were buying. I noted them all on the sheet. No way was I doing math in my head. “Uncle Jack? Do you have a calculator?”

“Oh, yes. Here you go.” He handed me a little handheld model. Although I just realized I probably could have used the version from my phone, duh!

I placed the calculator on the clipboard and totaled the purchases. I wrote the amount of one of the tags and handed it back to the customer. The line was about ten people long. I continued the process until only two people remained in line. Several more continued to meander through the house, selecting tags for their purchases.

“Uncle Jack, I’m going to wander around for a bit. Holler if you need me to return.” I placed the clipboard on the table next to him.

Unkie raised his hand in acknowledgment as he multitasked, checking out the last person in line. The beads of sweat remained on his forehead. He was doing an amazing job for Linda. But what a huge amount of work. I wondered if he would reconsider managing any of these sales in the future.

I migrated back to the room at the front of the house with the walls lined with books. The collections spanned floor to ceiling and had a small step stool nearby to reach the upper shelves. I stood back and scanned the books to see what jumped out at me. Would Florence possibly want all of them? She might not have room at this point. But I needed something to engender the goodwill we may have lost due to the unexpected arrival of the kittens. I really hoped she would come around in time after seeing their cuteness. People continued to mill around the rooms. I worked my way back and forth along the wall, selecting several keepers for Florence until my arms were full.

“Hey there,” a familiar voice said from behind me.

I jumped, juggling the books. “Oh, hi Jenna,” I said.

She leaned in and inspected my armload of treasures. “Looks like you found some good ones,” she said.

“Yeah. I got them for the woman who owns the bookstore next to Uncle Jack’s shop. She really likes the classics. And this is an amazing set.”

Jenna grabbed an empty box and helped me load the books into it. Dare I press her for more information? How could I broach the subject in a tactful way?

“How long have you been walking dogs?” I asked.

We finished packing the books and I closed the lid of the box. I brushed dust from my front, glancing around the room.

She shrugged. “Maybe two years,” she said.

“How did you get into it? Seems like a lot of fun.” I avoided eye contact and strolled along the bookshelves.

“Oh, it is. But sometimes there are owners that—” she started. I glanced over to see Jenna fiddling with a couple of figurines on a table. “Anyway, it is a blast. And I do love the dogs. But I might have to quit. I’m just not getting the referrals I used to.” She placed the figurines back, hitting the table hard with them.

I jumped as the porcelain slammed the surface hard enough to crack one of the little things. I bit my tongue, hoping the silence would keep her talking.

Jenna mindlessly wandered the room, picking things up, looking them over and replacing them. “It’s not my fault. Nicole was taking those dogs home with her from the vet instead of letting them stay overnight at the clinic. It wasn’t right,” she said.

“Oh, that must have upset Dr. Lester,” I prompted.

“Yeah. I think Nicole blamed me for ratting her out. And then the referrals for dog walking abruptly stopped,” Jenna said.

“Maybe you could talk to the doctor and see if she would start them up again,” I offered.

Jenna sighed. “Maybe. I really do love animals. But I just feel like they have it in for me.” She looked at her watch and gazed out the window.

I paused, waiting for any other insights. After about thirty seconds of quiet, I blurted, “Well, nice chatting with you. I better go see if Uncle Jack needs some help.”

Jenna continued her focus out the window. I started down the hallway, shaking my arms out from the stress as soon as I was out of her sight. Was she angry enough at Nicole for cutting off her dog-walking business to confront her? If she did, could she have strangled her? All of the pieces pointed to that possibility. My gut was telling me yes.

CHAPTER NINE

Most days I arrived at the antique shop before Uncle Jack to start my baking day. He usually followed a couple of hours after I was into my routine. I was trying all angles to rectify the relationship with Florence. I also hoped over time she would soften up. Since she had met Barney I noticed a few cracks in her hard exterior that showed a warm person underneath. I wondered what it was that made her so stoic most of the time.

I enjoyed the quiet of the shop, but there was nothing like Unkie’s infectious energy to perk me up. My order to Mocha Joe’s was already delivered and I was experimenting with a new adventure. My supplies arrived yesterday with several different cookie cutters in the shapes of more cats. The batch with the one like Gwinnie went over so well I decided to try making minis that looked like the kittens. The larger shapes had been a bit easier to maneuver the icing. Uncle Jack was likely in for several samples that didn’t turn out. The darker shade of icing was going to be more of a challenge than the gray. And the more intricate shapes a bigger challenge as well.

The door to the antique shop squeaked open. I glanced in that direction to see it was almost completely daylight. “Hi, darlin,” Uncle Jack greeted. He headed to the back of the store and started rummaging around some papers. He looked up at me with a huge grin.

“You came early to play with the train set,” I said.

Unkie giggled.

I walked over to the table behind the counter and picked up one of the pieces, looking at it from all angles. From my perspective, it just looked like a toy. “Do you know anything about these?” I asked.

Uncle Jack picked up another piece and joined me. “I’ve done a little research.” He pointed to a number underneath the cab of the train. “Each one is labeled.” He held the train out in front of him. “For example, the wheel configuration determines the type of locomotive. With steam locomotives, the front wheels guide the engine along the tracks. So 2-6-4 designates a locomotive with one axle and two wheels in front, six wheels on three axles that drive the locomotive, and four wheels on two axles that support the firebox.”

I stood back with my hands on my hips. Unkie had found a new passion thanks to Linda. I matched his grin, ear to ear. This new development couldn’t have made me happier.

He looked up and saw my expression. “What?”

“Are you going to be able to sell those? You seem pretty attached,” I said. I returned to the kitchen to start icing my cookies. I had made three more batches than I estimated I would need, just to have several to experiment.

He turned the train around in his hands. “There’s just something magical about these things. Maybe it’s thinking about being whisked away to another place,” he said quietly.

I lined up the mini cat cookies for my assembly line production. “Have you ever considered taking that Coast Excursion trip that Linda mentioned?” I asked.

Uncle Jack returned the locomotive to the shelf and picked up another piece. “Strangely, not until she brought it up. But, yeah. I think it would be a hoot.”

“Also, congratulations on your estate sale success,” I said. “Linda seemed pretty happy with the results.” Two different colors of icing were loaded into piping bags, ready for me to begin. I picked up the black and began to outline a cookie. My hand shook. The border of cookie number one was quite squiggly. I stood back and gazed at it, trying to figure out how to fix that. I was learning there were usually lots of options to correct mistakes in decorating. I started adding the border again, now two hands to steady the stream of icing. My line was smoother, but now I had clumps. OK. Cookie number one moved to the section of rejects. This smaller cookie size was significantly harder than my first batch for Florence. Maybe the minis were a bad idea.

Uncle Jack joined me in the kitchen. “Yes, that went well. But I don’t know if I could do it again. It took a lot out of me.” He reached for my first disastrous cookie. “I’ll just stand here at the end of the assembly line,” he said.

“Stop it! I’ll get better. But I’m sure that won’t be the last of the rejects.” I steadied my hand and more slowly began outlining cat number two—a much smoother line, but it zig-zagged too far away from the border. I scooted it to the side. “So, Linda is coming in tomorrow for a trial run as my assistant.” I kept my head down but could see from my peripheral vision Uncle Jack’s hand stop mid-reach for the second cookie.

“Oh?” he said.

I tipped my head up. His cheeks were bright pink. “Yeah, I’m so glad you suggested it. She seems really nice. And that shortbread was to die for.”

“Mm-hmm,” Unkie said with cookie in his mouth. He fiddled with the train in his hands.

Dare I tease him any more about Linda? My gut said there was a spark between the two of them. Maybe I shouldn’t push and just let nature take its course. I was sure Barney would join the fray and we could tag team Unkie about this new relationship. If I did hire Linda, the close proximity on a regular basis would spur this on, if there was anything to spur.

“What do you think?” I turned a finished cookie around for Uncle Jack to evaluate.

“Well, the color is pretty good, but . . .” he said.

I tilted my head. “You’re right. I’ll keep going. I might just have to ditch these and go back to the full-sized shapes.” I moved cookie number four in front of me. The border piping was getting significantly better. Once I got the right angle and speed, that part looked pretty good. Filling in the middle was more of a challenge than I expected to get these to look like the coloring of the kittens. I was trying to get the white chest color to not melt into the black. This looked so easy to do from the videos. I piped the white on several cookies and set it aside to firm up. I would try doing it in stages and see if that allowed the design to come through to better represent the babies.

“Tilly?” Uncle Jack was watching my assembly line process. He had gotten so quiet I wasn’t even aware he was still standing in front of me.

His voice caused my hand to jiggle and mess up. I slid the cookie across the counter to him. I pulled the white cookies back to my workspace and began to pipe in the black. That technique worked beautifully to create the best likeness possible. I stood back and looked up at Unkie.

His face was slack. “What’s wrong?” I hadn’t tasted my cookies. Did I mess up on the ingredients? Not again! Would I ever get past amateur status in this gig?

“There’s no gentle way to say this. And I’m a straight shooter anyway,” he started. Uncle Jack grabbed my hand that held the piping bag. “I got a call from your mom.”

“OK,” I said. Since my move to Belle Harbor I had kept my distance from my family. And they had done the same. I suspected they didn’t know what to do with me now that their dream marriage for me had imploded. But their son-in-law had blown it up with his affair with his new girlfriend, the culinary school instructor where I had begun my studies to become a baker. Somehow, I felt my parents partially blamed me.

“They would like to visit. But they said only when it works for you,” Uncle Jack said. He tipped his head to make eye contact with me. “You all right?”

I shrugged and returned to my cookie decorating. “I guess I can’t be in denial forever. I was really enjoying creating a new life for myself.”

“Tilly. You get to choose. Decide what works for you and then make that happen.” Unkie was always the wise one.

But what did I want? I wished a lot of my past not to have happened. That couldn’t be undone. But if that were the case, I wouldn’t be where I was today, with a life I loved. “I’ll have to think about it,” I mumbled.

Uncle Jack quietly left the kitchen. I continued my production, my mind swirling to figure out what to do.

CHAPTER TEN

Getting the news from Uncle Jack that my parents wanted to visit had thrown my day completely off. Thankfully my baking was completed early because I zombie-walked the rest of my afternoon. I piddled around with organizing some of the antiques, moving them from place to place so I would have something to do. Unkie was busy with his newly acquired train set. He was so enamored with it I couldn’t see how he could part with it. He kept to himself, providing me space to ponder my parent’s visit.

Leaving the antique shop three different times to wander the beach, I hoped for clarity with my decision. In my former life, the answer would be crystal clear. I always did what was expected of me by others, putting their needs and happiness above my own. That worked, until I discovered how miserable it made me. But by then the pattern was established. And I wasn’t courageous enough to break out of it.

I had taken my socks and shoes off and splashed in the water up to my ankles. The gentle sound of the waves calmed my nerves. I exited the water and looked up to see the antique shop far in the distance. Fiona’s bar was nearby, calling my name. Maybe my new friend could help talk me through this. I trudged through the thick dry sand to the bench in front of Fiona’s. I dusted the sand from my feet and put my socks and shoes back on.

The bar was full, patrons enjoying their dinner meal. I hadn’t realized I had been on the beach for so long. It must have been a couple of hours. My stomach rumbled as I looked at the plates of food. The bar had a couple of seats open, surprising for this time of day. I pulled out the chair and hoisted myself into it.

Fiona whipped her head around, doing a double take at seeing me. “This is a nice surprise,” she said and placed a drink coaster in front of me. She held up a finger. “I have just the thing for you.” She turned and began mixing a beverage.

Placing my elbow on the bar, I rested my chin in my hand. My head felt heavy. “I should get something to eat too,” I said. My stomach reminded me of the time with its grumbling. A plate two places down was filled with creamy cheesy pasta. That comfort food was speaking to me. Fiona made the dish from scratch, using a smoked white cheddar cheese from a local dairy farm.

Fiona placed a tall highball glass in front of me with the most gorgeous sparkling fuchsia liquid over ice, topped with a sprig of rosemary. “This is my new creation. It’s called Romero and Julieta,” she said.

I pulled it toward me and took a long draw. I closed my eyes while the liquid cooled my insides. “Oh, yeah. Just what the doctor ordered. I would also like a bowl of your mac and cheese. If I don’t eat something to absorb this alcohol, you’ll soon have to roll me out of here.”

“I’m glad you like it. I think it’s the tea made from hibiscus flowers that give it such a unique flavor. I’ll be right back,” Fiona said. She went to the computer and input my meal order.

Gazing around the room I saw families at every table were enjoying their time together. Would a visit at the beach with my parents be less stressful than a trip back to Boston? Uncle Jack’s advice to set my own terms ruminated in my brain. What would that look like?

“You look a million miles away, my friend,” Fiona said. She leaned on the bar in front of me.

Shaking my head, I chuckled. “Only three thousand. My parents want to visit.”

Fiona straightened up. “What do you want?” she asked.

“You sound just like Uncle Jack.” I drained about a third of my drink, my shoulders relaxing. “I honestly don’t know.”

One of the servers approached Fiona with a question. She was so kind to spend this much time with me when she was so busy. The cook hollered out my order for pickup and Fiona brought my steaming bowl of deliciousness to me.

“You don’t have to babysit me,” I said. I scooped a forkful of the gooey goodness and blew on it, then closed my eyes. “This is very therapeutic.”

“Stacy’s got it. I’ve got a great team,” Fiona said. “How about a happier subject. What’s the latest with the kittens?”

Holding up my hand with my fingers crossed I said, “Promising for an adoption. At least I’m telling myself that. I’m baking Florence up another batch of kitten-shaped cookies to smooth over any hard feelings. After a lot of trial and error, I’m pretty pleased with them.”

“You and Jack go above and beyond to make nice with that woman. Too much if you ask me,” Fiona said.

I shrugged and scooped another bite, appeasing my stomach for now. “We’ll see. I may have found a new assistant too.”

Fiona clapped. “Yay! Look at you. Business thriving and growing. Who is it?” she asked.

“Actually, it’s the woman Uncle Jack ran the estate sale for over the weekend,” I said. Talking with my friend was just the remedy for my pity party. My energy level was returning and my sense of doom disappearing. Things were never as bad as tunnel vision sometimes made it feel.

“Linda?” Fiona asked.

I forgot Fiona seemed to know most everyone in this small town, just like Unkie did. “Yes. I tried some of her shortbread. And I’m sure I could learn a lot from her. And . . .”

Fiona stepped to the side to answer some questions from one of the servers and pointed to a corner of the room. Back to me, she said, “Yes?”

“I’m sure there’s a spark between her and Uncle Jack. The banter and ease of their conversation looked like they had been together for years.”

“Well, that would be something. And that guy deserves all of the happiness in the world,” Fiona said. She left and returned with another full glass of the same drink. I don’t know how she made those to go down so smoothly. “You look like you’re feeling better.”

Nodding, I said, “More like my old self. Or maybe it’s my new self.” I laughed. “Thank you.”

Fiona reached across the bar and took my hand for a few seconds, smiling big. “Keep me posted on the kittens. I think it would be fun for each of us to adopt. Of course, with Florence’s approval.” She lifted her head and gazed over my shoulder. “Speak of the devil.”

I swiveled my chair to see Barney enter. He raised his hand in greeting. “Is that any way to talk to your customer?” he said. “I came for takeout for Florence and me.” He looked between Fiona and myself, waiting for the next jab.

I pursed my lips and raised my eyebrows. “Nope, I’ll leave that to Unkie,” I said, Barney knowing full well what I meant. “What I want to know . . .”

He held up his hand. “I’m sure both of my amateur sleuths want an update.” Barney moved into the vacant stool next to me.

Fiona called her bartender and pointed to my drink. “Another one of the Romero and Julieta, please.” She returned her attention to Barney. “Your usual for dinner?”

He nodded.

Fiona stepped to the computer and entered his order. She looked at her watch. “Should be about fifteen. Plenty of time to spill the beans.”

Barney removed his hat and placed it in his lap, taking a big swig of the drink. “What I can tell you is that we confirmed the leash from the vet’s office was the murder weapon. And you probably figured out that due to the close proximity that the killer had to have with Nicole, that it was likely someone she knew.”

“And?” Fiona prodded.

“Nope. That’s all I can say for now. I’m sure you two are cooking up other ideas. Just be careful not to start any rumors. That could harm the case,” he said. Barney nursed his drink and settled on that being the end of the sharing.

I had my own suspicions that I wasn’t ready to provide him yet. Jenna was top of my list, for many reasons. And Dr. Lester? My mind never was able to envision someone killing another person. I had to suspend disbelief to allow it to go there. My disposition had significantly improved with my visit to Fiona’s. My head clearer so I could figure out what to do about a visit with my parents. I felt confident I would come up with a scenario I could live with. Hopefully it would be agreeable to my parents as well.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“Tilly, I just love how you’re trying new things. I’m really proud of you,” Uncle Jack said. He had spent the entire day unboxing the items he had purchased from Linda’s estate sale. Somehow he always found a way to fit more things in without the entire lot toppling. Several vintage kitchen items were the latest addition to his collection. The cutest blue enamelware pitcher sat next to a blue and white swirl matching pan. The set would look adorable in a farmhouse. I still wasn’t convinced Unkie would let the train set go. That remained in boxes behind the counter.

“Thanks, Unkie. Joe and I are teaming up for a booth at the farmer’s market. I want to keep experimenting to see what works and what doesn’t. I’m trying not to get my feelings hurt if someone doesn’t like something.” I extended a plate of blueberry scones for Uncle Jack to sample.

He placed a beautiful off-white teapot with daisy flowers done in gold with a gold-gilded handle, spout, and lid finial in the front display window. I agreed that piece deserved a prominent location and suspected it would not be there long.

“These look like dessert. Just my speed,” he said.

I handed him a napkin and he took a scone off the plate. Uncle Jack was my biggest fan but also not shy about his feelings toward my baked goods. He took a bite with crumbs falling into the napkin.

“I can see these have fruit in them. However, they are excellent!” Uncle Jack was not one to favor fruit or veggies in his desserts. He scarfed down the remainder of the scone. Holding his hand in front of his full mouth so he didn’t spew crumbs, he said, “And they will go great with coffee. I think you two have a winning combo.”

“Glad you think so. I’ll wrap these up to send home with you,” I said. I was pretty proud of myself. The recipe wasn’t that difficult. It lent itself to being easily scaled to large batches. The scone looked pretty good too. Crumbly edges with soft, moist centers. A crunchy, golden brown exterior and bursting with blueberries. And a generous amount of vanilla drizzle.

Uncle Jack returned to unwrapping the remainder of his stash from the estate sale. His strategy of always adding new things to the store kept him with a steady supply of regular customers. I was sure they would be pleased the next time they visited.

The front door to Checkered Past Antiques squeaked open. Uncle Jack’s head flew up and he sprinted toward the door to greet Linda. I put my forearm over my mouth to hide my giggles. “Let me get that for you,” he offered.

Linda had a large bag in her hands with a picture of the dish running away with the spoon on its side. I pointed and looked at Uncle Jack. “Just like your apron, Unkie.”

His cheeks flushed crimson.

Linda looked down. “I’ve had this forever. That’s funny,” she said.

That’s certainly something, I thought. “The kitchen is this way,” I said and led her to the corner of the room, letting Uncle Jack off the hook. This was going to be a hoot, especially if it worked out with Linda.

She set her bag on the counter and began unpacking supplies. Other than the mixer, she had brought almost everything else that she needed. “How would you like to do this?” she asked.

“You tell me. Order me around to do whatever you’d like,” I offered. I grabbed my apron, ready for my assignments.

“OK. I like to get everything out and lined up in the order I need it before I start. That way, if I’m missing something I won’t be surprised when I’m part way through,” Linda said.

“I heard that,” Uncle Jack hollered from the other side of the room.

Linda looked at me, eyes wide. “What did I do?” she asked.

I put my hand on her arm, tilted my head, and smiled. “That comment was meant for me,” I said. “Apparently you and I have the same organizational system.” I put my hand up to the side of my mouth and said loudly, “One that some people might benefit from.”

Linda’s shoulders relaxed. She lined up all of her ingredients and supplies and put her recipe in the middle. “The only thing I need is a mixer, and a couple of pans,” she said.

I retrieved my KitchenAid from the other side of the kitchen and placed it center counter for her.

“If you wouldn’t mind measuring out the dry ingredients, I’ll start mixing the wet ones,” Linda said. “I’m making that shortbread you tasted the other day.”

A loud moan emerged from the other side of the room. Linda and I looked at each other and both busted a gut laughing. So far this was going extremely well.

“I know someone that can taste test it for you,” I said.

“You’re the boss. You just let me know what to do. I’m also really good at following directions,” Linda said. She scraped down the sides of the bowl, added the salt and vanilla, and started the mixer on low. She double-checked the recipe, pulled the dry ingredients next to her, and began pouring them into the mixing bowl. I retrieved the prepared pan and she loaded the dough in, pressed it down, and put it in the oven. Her movements were like clockwork. She turned to face me.

I had a huge grin and held my hand up for a high five. She chuckled and humored me, slapping my hand with hers.

“What’s going on over there?” Unkie inquired.

I didn’t think it could get much more fun than my time with Uncle Jack. But with Linda joining the team we were approaching a whole new level. This was going to be epic. Uncle Jack appeared in the kitchen, apparently not wanting to miss a second of the frivolity.

Linda attended to the caramel on the stove. “Sorry, Jack. I have to focus on the caramel so it doesn’t burn,” she said. “This is the trickiest part. If it’s not right, the whole thing is a flop.” Her head was intently bowed over the pan as she stirred in rhythmic circles. She removed the pan from the heat and placed it on the counter, adding the final ingredient before pouring it over the shortbread base. She looked up to see Uncle Jack and me fixated on her actions.

“I’ve never done this with an audience before,” Linda said.

“You’re a natural,” Uncle Jack said. His face was severely flushed. He fidgeted with a small figurine, rolling it over in his hands. A small amount of moisture covered it from his sweaty palms. I handed him a paper towel to dry off. He looked at me, eyes wide, and if possible, an even redder face.

“Well, Linda. I couldn’t agree with Uncle Jack any more. You are really good at this. And I think you would make a great assistant. It looks like I could learn a lot from you too.”

Linda set the shortbread aside to cool and set the timer. Even under the pressure of two people watching and evaluating, she didn’t miss a beat. She dried her hands on her apron and reached out to shake my hand. “Thank you so much,” she said and turned to Uncle Jack to shake his hand.

He fumbled the figurine onto the counter. It scooted across and I grabbed it just before it neared the edge toward the floor. “Oops. Not good to have an antique dealer with fumble fingers,” Uncle Jack said. He reached out his arm and shook Linda’s hand.

This was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

CHAPTER TWELVE

The cloudy morning mirrored my mood. The unusual gloom of the day would hopefully clear soon. I hadn’t felt such a heaviness on my mind and my heart since I had arrived in Belle Harbor. My fantasy life was getting a reality check. While so many things were going well, if I thought much about it, I knew it was only a matter of time before I would have to decide what to do about my former life. I still had parents and a brother, and they wanted to visit. I hoped a moped ride down the coast would clear my head.

I mindlessly scooted things around the kitchen, moving them from place to place, and then back to their original location. My morning baking was done and I hoped my lack of focus hadn’t caused me to mess up the recipes for Joe’s order. My brain was not engaged and couldn’t even remember doing most of the work. I looked up from the kitchen to see Uncle Jack going through the final boxes from the estate sale. He appeared to be deliberately giving me my own space. Ever since he shared that my parents had called and asked for a visit, he had mother-henned me with care. Now, he was letting that settle so I could make my own decision. Trouble was, I didn’t know if I could figure it out on my own. Sometimes I wanted someone else to just be the boss of me. Removing my apron, I balled it up and jammed it in a drawer.

“Uncle Jack?” I said.

He lifted his head up from the box. “Yes, hon?” he asked in the gentlest tone.

“I’m going to take a ride down the coast. Clear my head so I can think.” I had my helmet in my hand, and I dipped my head.

“Tilly? Trust that you’ll make the right decision,” Unkie encouraged.

I leaned in and gave him a peck on the cheek. He always knew what to say, whether it was a kick in the pants or a tender, reassuring word.

The door squeaked as I exited the antique shop. The heavy cloud cover hung over the water like a charcoal-covered blanket. My moped had just received a tune-up and was ready for a longer ride. I wheeled it from the front of the store to the street and started it up. Traffic was light this morning, giving me lots of space for my jaunt. I made a right turn onto Main Street and headed south. Quickly I passed the blocks of cottages on my left to an open road lined with mammoth trees. The ever-present chickens were nowhere to be found this morning. Perhaps Rocco had finally reinforced the fence. It was a miracle those wandering birds hadn’t caused any accidents around town.

The towering fir and oak trees created a green canopy that almost covered the road. Those beauties must have been over a hundred years old. I navigated the winding road, glimpsing the gray waves hitting the shore through the openings to my right. My destination was a small beach park about twenty miles south of Belle Harbor. The cool, slightly moist air hit my face, causing me to tear up. I quickly wiped my eyes, acknowledging it wasn’t just the weather prompting my sadness. The further south I rode, the more the clouds cleared. By the time I had reached my destination, the sun glistened on the water and warmed me up.

I parked my moped and navigated down the path toward the water. Deeply inhaling the sea air, I looked around and didn’t see another person. I trudged through the soft sand to the water’s edge, heading further south. My heart and my head were beginning to align with what I knew I should do. No matter what had happened, they were my parents. They had done their very best to raise me, and all things considered, my life was pretty good. Of course, hindsight being clear, I would have made different choices. But if things hadn’t happened the way they did, I wouldn’t be in Belle Harbor now, living my best life.

I stuttered a few breaths to overcome my tears, my decision settling in my mind. I turned around to see I had traveled several hundred yards from the path. Retracing my steps, I picked up my pace, more energetic than when I arrived. With space in my brain now for other thoughts, Nicole’s death appeared front and center. There was a connection I just wasn’t seeing. Jenna and Dr. Lester didn’t seem to fit the picture of a murderer at first glance. If I slowed the analysis down to take it step-by-step, perhaps the linkage to Nicole would appear.

I hiked up the trail to my moped, ready for my return trip. The clouds had mostly yielded to the sun, brightening my disposition, as well as my route home.

Maybe I was thinking about it all wrong. Instead of looking at what was prominent in the clues, maybe I should focus on what was absent. I visualized a piece of paper in my head with Nicole’s name at the center. I mentally drew lines out from there with what I knew about her. I connected those lines to other people that had a relationship with her or had come into contact with her in some capacity.

My concrete, sequential thinking required me to start at the beginning of the story. I knew that about myself, which explained why I didn’t like to come into the middle of a movie. It was too hard for me to discern the plot, characters, and what was happening. And asking too many questions during the show annoyed people. One piece to the puzzle at a time.

As I analyzed each of the potential suspects through my process, the image instantly became more complicated. Nobody was off the hook yet. I would need more information to advance my theory.

I slowed my moped as I reached Belle Harbor. Uncle Jack would be pleased with my decision about my parents’ request to visit. But I knew he would support any choice I made. The town was waking up and teemed with people heading to the beach. It was a fairly predictable pattern at certain times of the day. I stopped at a crosswalk to let a family, carrying all of their beach gear, scurry past. I proceeded the remaining few blocks to my cottage, in need of some more quiet time to work through my thoughts. I stopped the moped and disembarked.

My neighbor’s chickens had returned to their wandering, and I didn’t want to run any of them over. I wheeled past them to my front door. Several followed me as if I was their leader. I had to shimmy inside before they joined me. Those ladies had become very friendly and bold. I plunked into a chair and put my feet up. It was barely noon and I was exhausted from my day. My bed was calling me for a nap.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

With no order to prepare for Saturday, I decided to sleep in. Even without setting my alarm, my body was in a mode of waking up around four a.m. I laid in the comforting warmth of the bed, hazy thoughts wondering about all of the things going on in my life. I was thrilled that Linda would be joining the team and couldn’t wait to begin strategizing with her about the future of the bakery. With her ideas and extra hands to handle more orders I was confident that we would be accelerating to the point of needing to find a new space. I wasn’t in a hurry to get there, but soon we would be forced to move. It was a good problem to have.

Through the window, the clear skies began to brighten with the sunrise imminent. The cobwebs in my brain started to break up. The sound of the chickens was louder than any other morning. Had Rocco acquired more in an attempt to return to the previous level of egg production? The volume of their clucking made it sound like there were more than double the number previously.

I got out of bed and pulled on my robe, heading to the kitchen for caffeine. The racket from those chickens made it sound like they were at my door. I peeked through the curtain in the front window to see at least a dozen of them on my porch. They weren’t scrounging for food but seemed to be waiting for me to greet them. What in the world was going on?

I slipped on some flip-flops and went outside. They surrounded me as I went down the walkway toward Rocco’s house. The scene looked like Pigpen from Peanuts with the cloud of dust following him everywhere he went. We rounded the corner and headed up Rocco’s sidewalk. I could see at least another dozen birds were inside the backyard fence, scouring the ground for food. The ladies escorting me stopped when we all reached his front door. I rang the bell and the din of the clucking raised several octaves. It appeared they had something they wanted to say to Rocco.

Pushing the doorbell again a second time, I listened for any movement inside. I couldn’t hear a thing above the noise right next to me. The door finally opened a crack, Rocco’s head poking through. His hair looked like he had moussed it and run his hands through so it all stood on end. He opened the door further, rubbing his eyes like he had just woken up.

“Oh, hi Tilly,” he said.

I waited for him to acknowledge my entourage, but no words escaped his lips. He tipped his head down and slowly raised it. I followed his gaze and spotted what looked like dog fur on his pants. He nonchalantly lowered his hand and rubbed the spot to remove it.

“Look, I’m getting ready for work. I still don’t have any eggs for you,” Rocco said.

Shaking my head, I said, “No, I just came to tell you that your chickens were all hovering around my door. I’ve never seen so many of them out and about.”

Rocco waved his arm dismissively. “Everyone complains about it. But seriously, if you want free-range eggs, you have to put up with wandering chickens,” he said. He stepped back into his cottage as if he expected me to leave. The chickens took that opportunity to scurry past me and enter his front door. As he bent over to grab a couple of them, I noticed his unique belt looked very familiar. Rocco stepped outside and tossed the chickens toward his backyard. “I really am in a hurry, Tilly. Could you help me get them out of my house?” He reentered the front door, followed by the two birds he had tried to evict. If this wasn’t so serious, I might be laughing through tears.

We both whipped our heads around at the sound of a dog barking to see a large husky bounding toward us and the chickens. The birds flapped their wings as the dog entered the fracas.

Right behind the dog, Jenna sprinted over with her pack that she was walking. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know how she got away,” she said.

I grabbed the husky’s collar so Jenna could reattach the leash. I crouched and scratched behind the ears, getting a big, wet, sloppy kiss from the pooch.

“That’s Bonnie. Nicole’s sister agreed it was good for her to return to her friends. She had been doing well until she saw the chickens,” Jenna said. She tightened the leash holding Bonnie and reeled it in.

“You need to get her out of here!” Rocco yelled. “She’s the reason I don’t have eggs anymore.” He stomped over and grabbed two more chickens, squeezed past us, and chucked them out the door. As he bent over, Jenna pointed and looked at me, her eyes wide. She shook her head as if to rid it of the thought.

I blinked and nodded, acknowledging the clue. Sure enough, Rocco’s belt on his pants was actually one of the branded leashes from Dr. Lester’s clinic. Why would someone wear an accessory like that? It was odd, but did it have anything to do with Nicole’s death? In fashion, pretty much anything seemed to go, so why not wear a leash as a belt?

Rocco shoved past us back into the cottage, stepping on the foot of one of the dogs. A high-pitched yelp came from the pack. A smaller spaniel type dog lifted its leg in pain. Rocco continued shuttling the chickens outside almost as fast as they were returning.

“You guys could help me instead of just standing there. I’m going to be late for work because of you,” he said as he body checked another dog on his way outside. With that move, the dogs began to lose their balance like a row of dominoes falling. Jenna went down on one knee to keep her balance and steady her crew. With the final chickens outside, Rocco grabbed the front door and began to close it.

So much for being neighborly. I was pretty sure the egg train was no more, even if the chickens started laying again.

As Rocco was about to shut the door, Bonnie leapt through the small space, bashing it wide open. Rocco stumbled back, almost tumbling.

I reached to help Jenna steady the pack of dogs. Looking at Rocco, I said, “Bonnie sure doesn’t seem to like you for some reason.”

Rocco straightened up and removed the leash from the loops on his pants. With one hand on each end he stepped forward, reaching for Bonnie.

Jenna squealed and tugged on the dog’s leash. Bonnie strained against it, her muscles flexing, intent on reaching Rocco to do some damage. She let out a low rumble to indicate she meant business.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“You did it, didn’t you?” Jenna screamed. “You killed Nicole!” Jenna’s grip on Bonnie and the other dogs loosened as they all strained in the direction of Rocco.

He looked up, nostrils flaring, and huffed. “Get out now, before something happens you’ll regret.”

Jenna stepped forward just enough so that Bonnie was inches from Rocco. He took a corresponding step back as if they were in a tango. His back was now against the wall. He held his arms out. Jenna inched further into the room. The entire pack of dogs now joined Bonnie in her quest to take down Rocco.

“What would that be, Rocco? Would you strangle me too?” Jenna asked.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rocco said. He pushed the snouts aside as they swarmed him. Sidestepping the door, he held out his arms to keep the dogs away. He pulled his phone out and held it up. “Leave now or I’m calling the cops,” he said.

“Go right ahead,” I said. Jenna, the dogs, and I followed Rocco. “I’m sure Barney will want to hear your story.”

Rocco snapped his head in my direction.

I got my phone out and held it up too, threatening to call. “When your precious chickens stopped laying eggs, you blamed Nicole. Bonnie had escaped one too many times to visit your chicken coop,” I said. “You thought the reason you weren’t getting any eggs was her fault.”

“It was. But that doesn’t mean I killed her,” he said.

Bonnie barked and the others joined in. I looked at Jenna. “I should call Barney. Do you have this under control?” I asked.

She nodded, her eyes red. She sniffled. “I can’t believe he did it,” Jenna said.

I looked back at Rocco. His arms were down at his sides as he appeared resigned that he wasn’t going to work or anywhere anytime soon. “We’ll let Barney sort this out,” I said.

Stepping outside, I met the entire flock of chickens on Rocco’s front step. They craned their necks to see the commotion inside. Without Rocco, they would need a home and someone to care for them. I was sure with a new owner the eggs would start flowing again by the dozen.

Marshalling Barney to the cottage, I returned to see the dogs standing guard over the suspect. Barney might just have to deputize some of these canines for the force. Low growls and periodic barks kept Rocco in place. His shoulders slumped and his head drooped. Attempting a move, he took a small step to his right. In lock-step with him, the entire group of dogs moved and began to jump toward him.

Jenna looked at me and smiled. She let the line out on the leashes enough so the dogs could reach Rocco. They surrounded and circled him like he was a maypole. Rocco pivoted, losing his balance as the dogs tightened their leashes around him.

“Hey,” Rocco yelled.

Jenna moved closer, slowly allowing the dogs to further encircle Rocco. He fell to the floor, hugging himself in defense against the attack. The dogs’ leashes were wrapped around him securely enough that Barney wouldn’t need to cuff him in restraints to keep him in check. Bonnie stood tall, looked around, and smiled, proud of her accomplishment.

With the dogs having Rocco clearly in check, the chicken cavalry arrived to ensure he was securely detained. They filed in through the front door. I counted at least twenty hens who marched directly to Rocco, squeezed in between the dogs, and started pecking him. They bombarded his entire body as he cowered, covering his face with his hands.

“Please have some mercy,” Rocco begged.

“Like you had for Nicole?” I asked. “I don’t understand how you could do that. Because her dog was bothering your chickens?”

Rocco kept his hands over his face. “She thought it was funny how her precious Bonnie came to see the chickens. Like they were best friends visiting one another.” He struggled to stand and got as far as his knees. “It seemed like she was doing it on purpose after a while because I happened to smack her dog to get away,” Rocco said. He bent and put his hands on the floor to raise himself.

Bonnie leapt at Rocco, pulling the leashes and Jenna with her. As she lurched forward, the bags of dog poop attached to Jenna’s fanny pack fell into the middle of the group. Strategically, Bonnie nudged Rocco from the side where he collapsed onto the bags, causing them all to break open. With a final surge, the dogs tightened the leashes and the chickens moved double-time on their pecking.

Rocco sniveled. “Is Barney here yet?” he asked, looking toward the door. He wriggled, attempting to move away from the chickens. In concert, they all stopped and began exiting the tangled mess. One of the ladies appeared to be the leader and navigated them out of the knots and into the open room. They strutted around like they were shopping for something. One by one they each chose a place to roost. Not long after the first hen had nestled into place, she started clucking and stood up, revealing an egg. Down the line, one after the next, each hen produced their egg.

Rocco wailed, “Now you give me eggs?”

I went to the kitchen to find a container to gather them up before we had a bigger mess on our hands.

A polite knock came from the front door. “I wouldn’t believe it if I didn’t see it with my own eyes,” Barney said. “Could someone explain what’s going on here?”

Rocco attempted to stand. The dogs growled and the chicken reinforcements returned to their post, pecking away at Rocco. He reached out an arm, pleading, “Barney, help. Please arrest them for assault.”

Barney pulled the handcuffs from his belt. Slowly, Jenna retracted the leashes for the dogs, releasing Rocco to the wrath of the chickens. Barney shook his head and said, “Never mind. I don’t even want to know what happened.” He hoisted Rocco up by the elbow and grabbed his wrist, snapping a cuff into place. He sidestepped the poop and tiptoed away from the mess. “Rocco, you are under arrest for the—”

“I don’t care. Just get me away from those crazy women with their dogs,” Rocco said. He hung his head. “How could you?” he said to the chickens. “After all I did for you, to turn on me like that.”

The little ladies began flapping their wings and charged Rocco. He screamed.

Barney looked back at Jenna and me, shaking his head, but had a huge grin on his face.

Jenna and I untangled the leashes and got her organized with her pups. “I’ll get the chickens back to their coop,” I said.

“I can’t thank you enough, Tilly,” she said.

I laughed. “It was a team effort.”

The pups led Jenna from the house, followed closely by the chickens. Jenna and the dogs turned left and headed to the street and the chickens all on their own turned right and headed to the backyard. I opened the gate to let them in. I might just have adopted a flock of chickens with Rocco gone and no one else to care for them.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Fiona’s had become our go-to place for celebrations. But I was sure she wouldn’t have it any other way. With her bubbly personality and her outstanding business skills, she was meant to do what she was doing and had created a wonderful gathering place. She teased us about being frequent enough customers she might just have to reserve us a permanent table with our names on it.

With her signature paloma cocktail in our hands we lifted our glasses. Unkie, Barney, Linda and I all said “Cheers” at the same time. Linda sat to my left, across from Uncle Jack. From my peripheral vision I could see them frequently glimpsing each other.

“Thank you for joining us in celebration, Linda,” I said. “I’m so excited to start the next phase of my bakery. I think we’re soon going to need to find a new space.”

Uncle Jack pushed his lower lip out and dipped his head. “That bums me out. But it was inevitable and is a good sign that things are going well.”

“Plus, we’ve already got a catering gig. Fiona has been talking me up and convinced her cousin’s friend who is getting married to have me do the desserts.” I looked at Linda. “We’re getting into the big time. I understand the bride is a celebrity who wants an intimate, small-town wedding. I said yes. I hope that’s OK.”

Linda held up her fist and we bumped. “We’ve got this,” she said.

“Oh yeah, Til, how did Florence like the kitten cookies?” Uncle Jack asked.

“I think I’m beginning to understand her personality more. She seems to come across gruff but can quickly soften up with the right touch,” I said.

Barney chuckled, his shoulders bobbing up and down. “I told you guys.”

“You were right,” I said. Leaning back from the edge of the table, I moved my drink to make way for Stacy to set down our mozzarella sticks appetizer. She put a stack of plates next to the steaming crispy cheese. I put one of them and a dollop of marinara sauce on a plate and scooted it in front of me.

“When I arrived, she didn’t seem like she was in a good mood. But I showed her the cookies. She put a hand on her heart and said ‘Gwinnie’s babies?’” I crunched a bite of the cheese stick. “She seemed really touched.”

“That was a brilliant move, Til,” Uncle Jack said. Everyone followed suit and plated up a serving of the appetizer. “What about the kittens?” he asked.

I pushed my empty plate back and took a cooling sip of my cocktail. “I didn’t want to make it look like I gave her the cookies just to ask about them, but she brought it up.” I grinned.

“So, I’m inferring from your expression that it’s a go?” Unkie asked.

I nodded. “She said as soon as they’re old enough and have their shots. But one condition,” I said.

“Uh oh. That sounds ominous,” Uncle Jack said.

“Not at all. I think it sounds like a good idea. She wants to have play dates for Gwinnie and the kittens. She even offered to let Willie to come.”

Uncle Jack sat back in his seat and slapped his forehead. “Now I’ve heard it all. Do we know who’s adopting the fourth kitten?” he asked. Fiona, myself, and Uncle Jack had agreed to each take one of the kittens. Florence insisted their new homes be places of people she knew, I guess because of the play date condition.

Linda raised her hand and said, “Me.”

Uncle Jack leaned into the table and reached his hand across. “Really?”

Linda looked down and took his hand briefly and let it go. What in the world was that gesture? Apparently realizing how forward that was, Unkie quickly withdrew his hand to his lap. His arms wiggled like he was fidgeting.

“Oh, there was one other condition,” I said. “But I think it’s super cute too.” All eyes were on me, serious expressions waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Florence asked if we could name them all starting with the letter P.”

“I love it!” Barney said. “Her mom’s name was Petunia.”

“I already talked to Fiona and she chose Pepper. That spunky name fits her so well. I’ve chosen Peanut. So Linda and Unkie it’s up to you,” I said.

They looked at each other. “You go first,” Linda said.

Uncle Jack shook his head. “Ladies first.”

Linda put a finger on her chin and tipped her head. “I think I like Popcorn,” she said. “It’s a fun name.”

“I agree,” Uncle Jack said. “And with that, I’m going with Pancake.” He nodded as if officially declaring it so.

“Of course it has something to do with food,” Barney chimed in and elbowed Uncle Jack.

“Speaking of food.” Unkie leaned his head back and slapped the table.

“Don’t quit your day job,” Barney said, glaring at Uncle Jack. “Yes, the chickens helped to catch a killer. Happy?” He grinned. “As long as I do this job, there’s always something new to keep it interesting. I’m hoping with the resolution of the murder of Nicole, that Dr. Lester can get her business back the way it was.”

“Well, we’ll definitely keep her employed with all of our kitten visits,” I said.

“She even told me that Jenna is going to school to learn to be a vet tech,” Barney said. “After everything she went through she wants to do more to help animals.”

“News all around,” Uncle Jack said. “This is the life. Adventure, friends, and then there’s Barney.” Those two, endlessly entertaining.

“As long as we’re all sharing,” Linda began.

My heart dropped into my stomach. I hoped her news wasn’t a bad sign for Uncle Jack. The possibilities for them were just beginning.

“I’ve found a new place to live,” Linda said.

Uncle Jack’s shoulders slumped as he audibly exhaled.

“Next to Tilly. My realtor friend suggested the cottage. And it’s perfect for my new life. And I’m going to be taking over the care of the chickens. I figure I can do better than Rocco. And if I make those little ladies comfortable they’ll produce a fair amount of eggs that I can sell at the farmer’s market.”

“Brilliant!” Uncle Jack blurted, a slow smile overtaking his face.

“Well, I can’t be the only one not sharing.” I looked at Uncle Jack. “It’s time,” I said.

“You have us all behind you, Til,” Uncle Jack said.

“I know, Unkie,” I said. My parents were like any other. I was sure they just wanted their kids to be happy, healthy, productive members of society. I only hoped when they visited that they would see my new life brought me just that. My own definition of success.

***

I hope you enjoyed watching Tilly settle into her new life with Uncle Jack.

Are you curious about the celebrity catering gig for Tilly and her new assistant Linda?

Order Tiramisu and Turmoil today!

***

Click the link below to get Linda’s recipe for the Salted Caramel Millionaire’s Shortbread and join my newsletter

Shortbread Recipe

A note from Sue

If you enjoyed Sugar Cookies and Scandal, please consider letting other readers know so they can also enjoy the yumminess of Tilly’s baked goods.

Thank you so much.

Sugar Cookies and Scandal Review Link

***

Also by Sue Hollowell

The Treehouse Hotel Mysteries Series

The return home to her small town comes with a cantankerous mama, a family hotel that needs some love, and a doozy of a murder mystery…

Start Reading Peonies and Peril (Book 1) Today

Classic Martha Stewart Cat Sugar Cookies

Cookie Ingredients

4 cups sifted all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting

1 teaspoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

2 sticks (8 ounces) unsalted butter, softened

2 cups sugar

2 large eggs

2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract

Royal Icing Ingredients

2 pounds confectioner's sugar

5 tablespoons meringue powder

2 to 3 teaspoons vanilla extract (you can use other flavors. Almond works well)

½ to ¾ cups warm water

many choices of food coloring for fur colors:

COOKIE INSTRUCTIONS

Step 1

Sift flour, baking powder, and salt into a large bowl; set aside. Put butter and sugar in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. Mix on medium speed until pale and fluffy. Mix in eggs and vanilla. Reduce speed to low. Gradually mix in flour mixture. Divide dough in half; flatten each half into a disk. Wrap each in plastic. Refrigerate until firm, at least 1 hour (or overnight).

Step 2

Preheat oven to 325 degrees, with racks in upper and lower thirds. Let 1 disk of dough stand at room temperature just until soft enough to roll, about 10 minutes. Roll out dough on a lightly floured work surface to just under 1/4 inch thick, adding more flour as needed to keep dough from sticking. Cut out cookies with a 4-inch cat-shape cookie cutter, transferring cookies to parchment-lined baking sheets as you work. Roll out the scraps, and repeat. Repeat with remaining disk of dough. Chill cookies in freezer until very firm, about 15 minutes.

Step 3

Bake cookies, switching positions of sheets and rotating halfway through, until edges turn golden, 15 to 18 minutes. Let cool on sheets on wire racks.

ROYAL ICING INSTRUCTIONS

Stir the flavoring/extract into half the water.

Using a paddle attachment on a stand mixer, gently mix the sugar and meringue powder. No need to sift.

With the mixer on its lowest setting slowly add the water/flavoring mix to the sugar/meringue. The icing will become thick and lumpy.

Continue to add the remaining water, little by little, until the mixture reaches a thick, honey like consistency. You may not need all of the water, so watch carefully.

Now, turn the mixer to medium speed and whip 2 to 4 minutes until icing is thick and fluffy. Mixing time can vary greatly so watch carefully and stop mixing when the icing forms soft peaks. This makes about 5 cups. This keeps for a week well wrapped at room temperature.

DECORATING: Divide the icing into various bowls, tinting each your desired cat colors. Keep each bowl covered until ready to use. Royal icing dries out really fast: you don't want crusty bits clogging your piping tips.

Pipe the fur patterns first, then allow to dry, preferably overnight. Add the face. Allow to dry overnight before serving.