The Sweet Dreams Bake Shop (A Sweet Cove Mystery Book 1) (2 page)

Angie looked with puzzled eyes from the professor to the men.

Courtney watched the exchange of words and realized the professor was leaving. She placed the professor’s usual takeout cup of hazelnut latte into a paper bag and brought it over to her. The professor took the bag, nodded at Angie, shuffled to the exit and left the café, pulling the door shut with a bang.

“We’re the building’s new owners.” Davis Williams said to Angie, unfazed by the older woman’s reprimand.

“Oh.” Angie couldn’t help a frown forming on her face.

“We’d like to see the backroom, if we may. It would only take a minute. We’re trying to iron out the details of the renovation plans.” Davis adjusted the cuff of his suit.

Angie bristled inwardly even though she knew the two men had every right to make the request. She felt protective of her little shop and wished they would just go away.

“If it’s not a good time,” said Josh Williams, “we can come back later.”

His brother shot him a look.

“Um,” Angie said. “No. It’s okay. Go ahead. Do what you have to do.” She turned away from the men and started to clear away dishes from some of the tables.

Courtney stood near the entrance to the backroom with her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes shooting daggers at the two men. She scowled at the Williams’ brothers as they walked past her.

“Courtney.” Angie shook her head slightly indicating that her younger sister should just ignore the men. “Could you help me clear?”

After ten minutes, the men returned to the front of the café. “Thank you, Angie,” Josh said. “Sorry to get in the way.” He held Angie’s eyes.

Josh’s gaze caused an unexpected little zing to shoot through Angie’s heart. She gave him a quick nod and turned to finish the frozen chocolate drink she was making.

The café was quieter now that the morning rush was over and the women worked to replenish the bakery case, run the dishwashers, and get ready for the second wave of customers who would start streaming in around noon.

Josh approached the counter and sat on one of the stools. “We drove up from Boston,” he told Angie. “The traffic was terrible. I’d love to have a coffee and whatever you suggest to eat with it.” He smiled at her and Angie almost blushed.

“Josh?” Davis Williams stood ram-rod straight at the door. He had a clipboard in one hand and his briefcase in the other. He wasn’t planning on staying.

“I’ll catch up with you,” Josh said. “I need a coffee.”

Davis scowled but didn’t say anything. He had things to accomplish and didn’t want to sit around in a bake shop. Especially one he had plans to rip out of his newly acquired building. “Meet me at the Realtor’s office.” He glanced at his watch. “Say twenty minutes.” Davis didn’t wait for his brother’s reply. He yanked the door open and left the cafe.

Angie placed a white mug of coffee in front of Josh and he thanked her. “What do you suggest to go with it?”

“We have cake, muffins, pies, sweet rolls. What do you like, anything in particular?”

Josh’s face lit up and he chuckled. “I like everything.”

Angie thought. “Well, how about a piece of pear frangipane tart?”

“Pear what?” Josh grinned.

“I’ll give you a tiny slice to try,” Angie told him. “If you don’t like it, then I’ll get you something else.” She went to the bakery case and took a small plate down from the shelf.

A cell phone buzzed from Lisa’s purse. The women always kept their bags under the front counter for safe keeping. They didn’t like their wallets in the back room when delivery people were coming and going.

Lisa was pouring water from a big container into the coffeemaker. “Could you grab that, Angie? I’m expecting a call from my allergist.” Lisa was allergic to everything, mold, dust, pollen, and with the spring plants in bloom, she was really suffering. Her sinuses were blocked and her eyes always looked watery and red.

Lisa’s purse was open so Angie reached inside for the phone to pass it to her. As she pulled it out, the bag wobbled and tipped over, emptying some of the contents onto the floor.

“Ugh.” Angie moaned and passed the cell phone to Lisa. Angie bent to pick up the things that had fallen from the purse. Courtney leaned down to help, as Lisa took the call. They replaced her change purse, tissue packet, allergy pill container, eye drops, and checkbook.

“I hope I’m not going to be clumsy all day.” Angie rolled her eyes.

Courtney giggled. “Clumsy isn’t the best trait to have when you’re serving customers their hot drinks.”

With the purse back under the counter, Angie reached into the bakery case and cut a small piece of the pear tart. She placed it on the plate and carried it over to Josh.

“Are you always a klutz?” His eyes were mischievous.

Angie put a hand on her hip. “Only, now and then. You’d better stand back when I refill your coffee.”

Josh chuckled. He picked up his fork and took a bite of the dessert. He closed his eyes and moaned.

Angie smiled, admiring the chiseled features of Josh’s face. “Does that mean you like it?”

Josh opened his eyes. “It means I love it. I’d love a bigger piece, please.”

Angie was about to cut another slice for him when Lisa called out to her. Lisa was holding the café’s phone in her hand. Her face was pinched with worry. “Angie. It’s Police Chief Martin. He says for you to come quick. It’s Professor Linden. She’s hurt. At her house. She’s asking for you.”

Angie’s eyes went wide. Her heart jumped into her throat. She dropped the knife she was holding onto the counter and bolted from the bake shop.

Angie was still wearing her pink apron when she raced past four store fronts on Main Street and turned left onto Beach Street. Running past several small shops and residential houses, Angie could see a police car and an ambulance in front of Professor Linden’s Victorian home. A crowd of people had gathered on the sidewalk opposite the house.

“Angie!” Police Chief Martin raised his hand to flag her over. An emergency medical technician was kneeling next to the professor who was on her side laying on the walkway next to the front stairs of her house.

“What’s happened?” Angie was nearly breathless when she ran up the chief.

Two EMTs rolled a stretcher out of the ambulance and hurried it towards Professor Linden.

“A passerby saw the professor on the ground and called 911. The person said the professor seemed to be convulsing or having a seizure.” The chief took Angie’s elbow and quickly guided her over to the elderly woman prone on the ground. “The professor called for you,” he told her.

Angie rushed to the older woman and knelt beside her. She swallowed hard to clear the worry from her voice. “Professor? It’s me. It’s Angie.” She reached for Professor Linden’s hand.

The professor’s eyes fluttered open. “Angie.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper. She squeezed Angie’s hand. “Take care of my cat.”

Angie blinked. “Yes. Yes, of course, I will. You’ll be good as new soon. I’ll take care of him until you’re home again.”

The tension of Professor Linden’s fingers on Angie’s hand eased and the muscles fell slack. The professor’s eyes closed and she took a quick breath, almost a small hiccup, and then she was still. Angie looked at the tiny hand she was holding. Her gaze flicked to Professor Linden’s face and then back to the hand. A sob caught in Angie’s throat. Tears welled in her eyes and spilled over the lids, running down her cheeks.

Chief Martin placed a hand on Angie’s shoulder and gave her a small squeeze.

On that bright, warm April morning, the professor was gone.

The county coroner was called and a car was sent over to retrieve the professor’s body. Angie sat on the front steps of the Victorian as the attendants brought a stretcher from the coroner’s vehicle and placed the body on it. A long strand of Angie’s hair had come loose from her topknot and framed one side of her tear-stained face. The EMTs had covered Professor Linden’s body with a sheet. One of the town’s police officers was directing people to move along to keep them from stopping and gawking at the sad scene.

When the attendants rolled the stretcher across the lawn and moved it into the car, Angie stood and watched the vehicle drive away. She dabbed at her eyes as the chief approached. He had a set of keys in his hand.

“The cat. The professor’s cat is in the house.” Chief Martin’s shoulders drooped and the muscles of his face sagged.

Angie stared at him, his words not registering with her.

“Professor Linden asked you to take care of him.” The chief held up the keys. “The cat.”

“Oh, right.” Angie shook herself. “Yes.” She looked at the house. “Poor Euclid.”

“Who?” the chief asked.

“Euclid. Her cat. That’s his name.”

They walked up the front stairs to the porch.

“How old was Professor Linden?” Angie asked.

“I really don’t know. I’ve known her for years, but never knew her age.” The chief had grown up in Sweet Cove and knew just about everybody from town. He’d even known Angie when she was a little girl and came to town with her sisters to visit their grandmother. The chief put the key in the lock and turned. It clicked and he pushed the door open.

Angie asked, “Did the professor have epilepsy? Is that why she had a seizure?”

The chief shrugged. “I don’t know that either.”

“I know that her husband and son passed away before her. And a brother too,” Angie said. “Is there someone who should be called? A relative? A friend?”

As they entered the foyer, the chief shook his head. “I don’t know anything. I only know that Blake Ford was her attorney. He handled her affairs. I’ll call him and let him know what happened. He’ll know who to contact.”

“But ….” Angie said.

“Oh, right,” the chief said. “I keep forgetting that Blake’s retired now and gone to Florida. His nephew has taken over the firm.”

Angie wasn’t sure calling the law office a “firm” was correct since it was only a one-lawyer operation.

The chief hooked his thumb into his belt. “I’ll call the nephew. His last name’s Ford. It’s Jack Ford.” He gestured for Angie to enter the house. “You meet him yet?”

Angie shook her head. “No. I don’t think I’ve seen him around.”

“He seems odd.”

They glanced around for the cat.

Even though Angie had been in the Professor’s home several times, the house never failed to impress her. The foyer of the Victorian had gleaming hardwood floors and high ceilings. A chandelier hung in the center of the space. There was a carved rectangular wooden table standing in the middle of the foyer with a large cut glass vase filled with tall colorful flowers. Carpets of cream, cranberry, and green were placed here and there over the floor. A large staircase led from the foyer to the second floor landing. The Victorian was perfectly decorated with period furniture, wallpapers, lamps, antiques, and mirrors. Entering the mansion was like stepping back into another era.

A terrible shriek came from the dining room on the right side of the foyer. Angie and the chief both jumped. The professor’s orange cat was on top of the large China cabinet and he was staring at the two intruders who had dared to enter his home.

“Oh, it’s only Euclid.” Angie let out a breath. “It’s me, little one. You scared me to death,” she told the cat. The cat did not fit the category of “little one.” He was a huge long-haired orange and white giant. The professor said he was part Maine Coon cat.

As the chief approached the tall cabinet, the cat arched its back. The chief took a step back, and then turned to Angie. “Ah, how shall we get him down?”

“Should I take him home or just come by each day to take care of him?” Angie looked up at Euclid.

“What do you think is best?” The chief eyed the cat.

“Maybe I’ll come by here for a few days to start with,” Angie said. “If Euclid seems amenable to me, then I’ll take him to my apartment. You think that’s okay? I can stop by the police station to pick up the key each morning and return it at the end of the day.”

“Works for me.” The chief handed Angie the keys. “Drop them off at the station when you’re done here this evening.” He moved towards the front door. “Thanks, Angie.”

A thought popped into Angie’s head. “Chief?”

The chief paused and turned to her.

“Why was the coroner called? Why not the funeral home?”

“It’s the law,” the chief said.

Angie’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“The coroner must be called…when there are questions surrounding the death.”

Angie took a step forward. “What do you mean ‘questions’? Didn’t the professor just die of natural causes?”

The chief looked down. “Right now, it falls into the category of ‘unexplained.’”

“Why?” Angie’s hand trembled causing the keys she was holding to jiggle.

“I can’t say more, Angie. The coroner needs to look into it.”

Angie’s eyes were questioning. “Is it suspicious?” Her voice shook a little. “Do you think she didn’t die of natural causes?”

The chief moved his hand in the air. He forced a slight smile. “It’s just because it happened suddenly. That’s all. Thanks for your help with the cat.” He nodded, opened the door and stepped out onto the porch.

Angie stood in the foyer thinking over what the chief had said. A flutter of anxiety picked at her.

Euclid let out a meow.

Angie looked up at the cat and sighed. “It’s just you and me, Euclid. For a while, anyway.” Angie walked down the main hallway to the kitchen. She cleaned the cat box, freshened the water in the cat’s bowl, and filled his dish with kibble. Euclid padded into the room and watched Angie complete the tasks.

“I have to go back to work now. I’ll check on you later.” Euclid followed Angie to the front door. Before leaving, she bent to scratch the cat’s cheek and he started to purr.

“I’m sorry about the professor, Euclid. She was a nice lady.”

Angie left the Victorian and headed back to the bake shop. She would miss Professor Linden’s morning visits. Sadness gave Angie’s heart a squeeze and tears gathered in her eyes.

Angie returned to the bake shop and when she opened the door, everyone turned to her and the questions started.