Murder on Wheels (A Tourist Trap Mystery, #6)

“Come down to the shop and I’ll show you. You really have got to get a handle on him.” I clicked off and waited for her to make her way downstairs.

I read another chapter in the mystery I’d been nursing along not wanting the story to end, when I heard the door close in the office. She pushed through the doors, still dressed in her lounging clothes, a silk robe, silk pajama top and long pants, and her fuzzy slippers. With her hair wrapped up with a matching turban, she looked like a gently aged Lucille Ball, but with more makeup. She might not have gotten dressed to talk to me, but she had put on the full face treatment. Foundation, eye shadow, liner, mascara, and lipstick. She poured a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter sipping it. “So, what’s so important?”

I pushed the letter toward her. “I got this on my door last night. Did you guys talk about me during your meeting?”

She pulled her reading glasses up off the chain where they hung around her neck and read the citation. “He didn’t have the authority of the commission for this. I mean, we talked about someone who appeared to be watering his or her lawn, but I never got the impression it was you. You hate gardening.”

“I know. And it wasn’t me. My lawn is as dry as everyone else’s. I think your committee needs to get their facts straight before they go off issuing citations.” I grabbed the paper back from her and started waving it. “This is America. I have rights. What about innocent until proven guilty? Let Josh prove I water my lawn. Does he have pictures?”

She gently took the citation from my hand. “Calm down, dear. I told you it wasn’t the committee. I’ll handle this and Josh. You just relax.”

“Okay, so that was over the top. I just hate being accused of things I didn’t do. Especially since we both know this is about your date on Friday.” I studied her. “You will tell him about you and Harrold, right?”

“Now, don’t go all crazy on me. Telling him to back off you is one thing, but hurting his feelings by telling him about Harrold and me is quite different.” My aunt tucked the letter into her robe jacket and took off her glasses. She sipped on her coffee.

“You know he did this because he suspects something is going on. He’s vindictive.” I almost said a “little vindictive,” but nothing about Josh was little, unless you counted his emotional stability.

“You’re probably right. I’m just not ready to talk about Harrold with Josh yet. I’ve been fair both ways, I don’t talk about Josh to Harrold, either. I’m sure Harrold doesn’t even care that I ever dated Josh.” She pushed a wayward curl off her face and back behind her ear. “If Josh comes over Friday night, tell him I’ve gone out. That’s all. No details, no with whom, not even a guess about what movie or theater. The man needs to learn to respect my privacy.” And with that declaration, my aunt spun around on her fuzzy slipper and left. I’m sure it would have been a more satisfying exit if she’d had on shoes that actually allowed me to hear her stomp away.

With that problem solved—sort of—I returned to the Kacey page of my notebook. I knew I was missing something. I put a line through Austin and Sadie’s names, but Austin’s cross-out was much lighter than my friend’s. As soon as I finished, the bell rang over the door and Sadie walked in the shop. If I’d believed in signs, this was a clear one that I was on the right track. Maybe Sadie’s memories hid a clue even she didn’t realize she knew.

Or maybe she was just responding to the voice mail I’d left her yesterday. I’d like to believe it was the former.

She slipped onto one of the stools and looked at me, putting her purse on the counter next to her. “Let me get this straight. You want me to develop a gluten-free dessert for your customers since the jerk and his now-deceased wife aren’t opening up a dessert truck that could have run both of us out of business.”

“You have to admit, it’s a good business decision. Besides, we just need one or two choices, besides the fresh fruit cup we offer now.” I smiled what I hoped was a winning smile when in fact it was probably serial killer creepy.

Sadie’s shoulders sagged. “I’m being emotional about a business decision, aren’t I?”

“You have a right to be emotional. Austin was a total butt to you. He led you on and stole your recipes. He should go to jail for being a bad man.” I poured her a cup of her favorite chocolate-flavored coffee and filled my own cup before I walked around and sat next to her. “If you don’t want to help me with this, you don’t have to do it. I’ll figure out something else.”

She wiped away tears that had begun to fall. “I’ll start playing around with some things. I have Kacey’s notes, but I think instead of changing one of my recipes, I’ll create something new and name it after her.”