I started writing down the questions that bothered me. Kacey knew about her condition, and as her husband, so had Austin. But it wasn’t like she was shy about talking to others about her allergy. I’d had a brief conversation with her at the food truck, and I’d learned more than I’d ever known about gluten allergies. Of course, we had been talking about the new business. I wrote food truck in big letters in the middle of the page. If getting her to close or sell the truck had been the motive, I knew of three people who would be suspects: me, Sadie, and Lille. I circled Lille a few times, but really, my heart wasn’t into suspecting her. The restaurant owner was more into her bad-boy boyfriends and holding a grudge against anyone who’d ever slighted her. Now if Homer Bell, the guy who’d sold the truck out from under me and Lille, had come up dead, Lille would be top of my list. She hated that guy.
I sighed and wrote down Sadie’s name under the food truck. Not only had Austin stolen her recipes by sucking face with her and pretending to be her boyfriend, she might have lost business for Pies on the Fly if the food truck had been successful. Although that logic didn’t completely ring true, as the customer base for the two businesses were totally different. Thinking about Sadie reminded me of the women who’d asked for gluten-free treats at the shop last weekend. I’d never asked Sadie if she could make up something special.
I dialed Sadie’s number and got her voice mail. She got up about three to do her baking, and I’d forgotten this was her nap time, when she turned off her phone. “Hi, Sadie, it’s Jill. I wanted to talk to you about some different menu items for the shop. Don’t kill me, but I need something gluten-free. Give me a call when you get this message.”
One thing off my to-do list. I turned a page in the notebook and looked at the week’s schedule. I added Pizza with Greg and beach run to today’s list, crossing off the beach run right after I wrote it. Then I wrote Gluten-Free Menu Items on the page for tomorrow. I wanted to talk to Aunt Jackie about her thoughts on the change, too. She could probably estimate how many items we might sell using one of her business school models. I paused, then wrote on today’s list explore back-to-school options.
If the murder investigation was leading me back around to one of my best friends, then I needed to do something else to occupy my mind. I knew I was missing something, but I kept thinking about that book of recipes now in Sadie’s kitchen with Kacey’s handwritten changes in the margins. I picked up the phone to call Amy, then realized she was still miffed at me.
Finishing the last of my salad, I rinsed the bowl and fork and put it into the dishwasher. Then I powered up my laptop, turned the notebook to a clean page, and started figuring out what I needed to do to go back to school next fall and get a business degree.
I’d made a plan for my first semester, listed off all the steps I needed to complete before I could apply for admission, and ordered materials to be sent to the house. I had a month before the admissions due date and there were many steps to complete, including an essay on why I wanted an MBA degree. Of course, since my bachelor’s had been in political science, I also had several prerequisite classes I had to take just to be provisionally approved.
Worse, there was a placement test. I put a note on my to-do list to order a study guide for the GMAT. I’d ordered several guides for the undergrad test earlier that fall for seniors at the high school, but I didn’t have any for graduate school on hand.
Maybe going back to school wasn’t such a great idea. After passing the bar, I’d sworn I’d never take another test again. But according to the website, the LSAT test that got me into law school wasn’t accepted for the MBA program, so it looked like I’d be sitting at a computer for the next month, getting my student groove back on. Maybe Sasha would help me study.
The knock on the door came at ten minutes after five. I was still in student mode, making choices of what classes I wanted to take which nights. If I went four nights a week, I’d be done in three years, even with the extra classes I needed to boost my business knowledge. How hard could Math for Business Decisions be?
Emma beat me to the door and as I unlocked it, I peeked through the side window to make sure it was Greg. I’d been surprised before by a crazy stalker who thought I held a package from a dead woman. Don’t ask, but now I always kept the doors locked and checked before I opened up, even if I was expecting the South Cove police detective. Greg approved of my new habit, which kind of got me off the hook for all the bad ones he didn’t like so much.
He was leaning against the doorway, holding the screen open with his foot because in his hands were two boxes from Godfather’s. My stomach grumbled as the smell of deep-dish pepperoni and a super garbage supreme pizza hit my nose.
“Come on in. I’m starving.” I held open the door, then relocked it after he entered. A little overkill in my view, but it made Greg feel like I was taking my protection seriously. I’d even started carrying pepper spray when I ran, although whoever would mess with me while Emma was around was just plain stupid.
“What, did you only eat one of Sadie’s cheesecakes for lunch?” He kissed me on the cheek and moved to the kitchen. “Sorry about pizza again, but we really didn’t finish that impromptu dinner and a movie night.”