When I got a quick email back with “Thanks” as the one-word response, I figured my work was done. I cleaned up the kitchen, let Emma out and back in, then took my dog and my book upstairs to read in bed.
The next morning my alarm woke me. Greg’s side of the bed was empty. He hadn’t come home last night. Which meant one thing: Nan hadn’t just slipped and fallen. She’d probably been murdered. I got ready for my day. The shop was going to be busy again, or would be as soon as the news got out. And my first customer would probably be Darla. Not only was she our city’s unofficial marketing queen and ran the winery, she also wrote for the South Cove Gazette. And this was just the type of story she loved getting her teeth into.
Emma watched me as I finished preparing to leave. Then she made three circles in her dog bed and plopped down with a big sigh. Her gaze never left the leash hanging by the door. I knelt down and gave her a hug. “You know we’ll go this afternoon. As soon as it warms up, we’ll start running in the morning again. Then you’ll be wanting an afternoon run instead. You know you’re spoiled, right?”
She just closed her eyes and ignored that comment. Emma knew she was loved. By more people than just me and Greg. Toby thought she was part his dog too. Maybe as one of the privileges of renting my cottage. The good news was, I always had someone to pet sit when Greg and I went out of town.
The Drunken Artist still had police tape blocking the door. Another bad sign for this event being an accident. And when I reached Coffee, Books, and More, my hunch became official. Darla waited for me on one of the small outdoor tables in front of the shop. She was writing in a little notebook that she tucked away when I walked up. “Jill, what do you know about the murder?”
“Good morning, Darla. Lovely day for March, isn’t it?” I unlocked the door. “Please come in. Would you like coffee?”
Darla followed me into the shop. “Okay, fine, so I was a little overanxious. My deadline’s at noon, and besides the rumors I heard last night at the winery, I’ve got zero information on this murder.”
I went about my opening chores, not saying anything.
She climbed onto one of the stools and got out her notebook. Then she sighed. “Could I have a coffee with just a squeeze of honey? I’m trying to break the sugar habit and I don’t want to go with artificial sweeteners.”
“Sure. I can do that. Or I could put a pump of French vanilla in it. Same calorie count, but you get the vanilla taste along with the sweetness.” I filled a coffee cup with our medium blend. “And much lower in calories than your regular. Sometimes it’s the small things we do over and over that make big changes for us.”
“Now you sound like Matt.” She smiled at his name. She and Matt had been dating for years. He’d become a fixture in South Cove after arriving from a work program that had brought a lot of the businesses’ new employees. Including Evie’s cousin, Sasha, who’d worked for the bookstore. “He said to tell you hi, by the way. I’m falling down on all my social obligations.”
“No worries. Greg and I will have to come by some night once this investigation is over and we can all catch up.” I set the coffee in front of her and poured my own cup without any additions. I brought it around the counter and sat next to her. So far the store was quiet, but soon at least my commuters would come in and interrupt us. It was better to get the conversation over with.
“You’re telling me there is an investigation.” Darla’s eyes sparkled with excitement.
I shrugged in answer. “Maybe. The signs point that way. But I haven’t seen much of Greg since three yesterday morning, so I can’t give you any particulars. When he came for coffee yesterday he didn’t know anything yet. And that was the last time I saw him.”
Darla set down her pen and picked up her coffee. She gave it a sip and her eyes widened in surprise. “This is good.”
“I know.”
She took another sip, then set the cup down. “It was that Nan woman from the painting class who’s dead. Correct?”
Greg didn’t like me sharing information he’d given me, but he hadn’t given me anything, so I guessed I could play Clue with Darla without any guilt. But I wasn’t talking about Meredith and Neal’s relationship. That wasn’t my story. Not at all. “Yeah. Nan Gunter. Neal met her and her husband the night before, at your winery. Maybe you saw them there?”
Darla shook her head. “I hadn’t seen them before. Of course, Monday’s my night off, so I wasn’t at the winery. I’ll have to talk to Robin. She bartends on Monday nights. It’s always a small crowd, so once the kitchen staff have left, she would have been all by herself. Thanks for that lead anyway.”
“No problem. That’s about all I know. Neal might be able to tell you more.” If he was home, I added silently.
“I didn’t pay much attention to them at the painting night. I was more interested in talking to your new barista. Evie’s so fascinating. Did you know she wrote grant proposals for a women’s shelter in New York for a while?”
I did, but I’d also known she’d stayed at that shelter for a couple of weeks. That wasn’t my story to tell. “She’s had an interesting life.”
Darla paused, looking at me for a minute as if she could read my thoughts or something. But then she put it away. I could see the idea dive back behind her eyes and hover there for another time. “She sure has. I saw her walking her dog the other day. He’s so cute.”
“If I thought Emma wouldn’t sit on it, I’d get a pom puppy in a heartbeat.” I could feed my yearning by playing with Homer, though. And that was almost as good.
“I know you’re holding out on me, but I’m not sure if it’s the murder case or Evie.” Darla held up her hand when I started to tell her I didn’t know what she meant. “Don’t lie to me. I’ll let you have your secret for now. But someday I’m going to ask you to tell me the truth and you’re going to need to tell me. Because we’re friends.”
Now I felt like a complete jerk. Was there anything else I could tell her about Nan’s death? I shook my head and held up my arms. “Honestly, I think your best bet is to talk to Neal and your bartender. You’ll probably get way more from them than anything I could tell you. I only met them last night, and it really wasn’t a true meeting.”
Darla put away her notebook and sipped her coffee. “What else is going on in South Cove? I hear our friend Sadie and the pastor are getting very chummy.”
That made me grin. “I see wedding bells in the future for those two. It’s time for Sadie to have someone in her life again. Nick’s all grown and almost out of college. He’s going into finance and will be amazing. Was Pastor Bill ever married?”