A muenster among us, p.3
A Muenster Among Us, page 3
“Cranberry isn’t a Skittle flavor,” she informed me. “I’m looking for grape. Orange. Lemon.”
“I have a raspberry, white-chocolate cheddar that is more of a dessert cheese,” I said. “And a blueberry cheddar that isn’t quite as sweet but still has a nice fruit flavor.”
Her expression brightened. “Blueberry. Like my Blue.” She nodded enthusiastically. “I’ll take the biggest package you have.”
“Don’t you want to sample it first? Just to make sure you like it?” I thought about adding the fact that blueberry wasn’t a Skittles flavor either, but she already knew this. It was how her daughter had gotten her name: Blue, to complete the rainbow.
Annie shook her head. “No need. I’m sure it will be the perfect replacement for my Skittles.”
I wasn’t so convinced, but she didn’t look as though she could be dissuaded.
I dutifully returned to the counter and hunted in the case for the blueberry cheddar. Annie waited, occasionally glancing at her phone as I pulled the largest hunk from the case, rung it up and put it in a small bag.
I gave her the total, but she made no move to reach for her purse, her bulging eyes now glued to her screen.
“Is…is everything alright?” I asked.
She looked at me, her eyes still wide, a frown furrowing her face. “I don’t think it is,” she murmured.
My thoughts immediately turned to the baby. “Is Blue okay?”
“It’s not Blue. It’s Graham.”
“Graham? Did something happen to him?”
“I’m not sure,” she said slowly. She blinked, finally noticing the bag on the counter and the amount rung up on the cash register. She found her wallet and handed me her credit card. “He just texted me. Said he’s a suspect in Isaac’s death.”
I felt my own eyes round. “What?”
She pinched the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes shut. “This is terrible.”
I couldn’t argue with that.
Her eyes opened and she gave me an anguished look. “I can’t cover his shifts if he gets arrested.”
“Uh…what?”
She sighed. “I’m only back part-time right now. Mrs. Dobson only comes three days a week. And with Ryan out of town for who knows how long, we’re already short on bodies.” She bit her lip worriedly. “I don’t know what I’m going to do if Graham is taken into custody. Nichols already asked me to cover for Ryan, which I couldn’t do. Graham stepped up, but if he goes out now? It will only be me.”
Before I could fully digest this information, the door to the shop opened again. This time, a woman I didn’t know stepped inside and smiled confidently in my direction.
“Good morning,” I told her, a little distractedly. “I’ll be with you in just a minute.”
“Oh, take your time,” the woman said, still smiling. “I can wait as long as I need to.”
I frowned. She must have been planning to buy—or sample—an awful lot of cheese.
She looked around the store, her shiny dark hair swaying. It was cut in a bob, the ended even with her jawline. But then she glanced from me to Annie, uncertainty flickering across her face as she took in both of our serious expressions. “This is the Cheddar Haus, right?” she asked.
I gave a slight nod, trying to look a little more congenial.
Her smile returned, and she crossed the store so that she was directly in front of me and extended her hand. “My name is Jamie. Jamie Green. I’m here for the manager-in-training position.”
An icy ball formed in the pit of my stomach. All thoughts of Graham’s potential arrest and Annie’s dilemma disappeared. “The what?” I asked. “I don’t think you’re—”
“Jamie, thanks for coming in.”
I turned to my left.
Phoebe had emerged from the backroom.
I didn’t even know she was there.
Ignoring both Annie and me, my half-sister approached Jamie Green with a professional smile and an outstretched hand. “Welcome. You’re in the right place.”
Chapter 4
“I cannot believe she did this,” I fumed.
It was later that night and Olivia and I were at Common Grounds, drinking coffee while I complained about Phoebe.
Olivia nodded sympathetically. “It was a horrible thing to do.”
“And she didn’t even interview her there,” I said. “They went somewhere else. So you know she just had that woman show up so that I would see her. My horrible sister did it to hurt me, to make sure I knew exactly what she was doing.” I couldn’t keep the bitterness out of my voce. “Replacing me. She’s literally going to have me train the woman who will be putting me out of a job.”
“Just rotten,” Olivia agreed.
I tore off a piece of the enormous monster cookie we were sharing. Although, come to the think of it, Olivia hadn’t helped herself to a single piece and it was already halfway gone.
I shoved it in my mouth and washed it down with my now-lukewarm white chocolate mocha. “And Ryan is gone, so I can’t even talk to him about it.”
Olivia offered another sympathetic nod.
As soon as I said his name, I immediately remembered the text I’d sent, as well as our hurried conversation when he’d called after landing. I hadn’t recognized the number since he’d called from a payphone—I had no idea those even existed anymore—to let me know that his phone had died but that he was safely in Florida. He was going to charge up when he got to his grandmother’s house, and he’d check in later.
Since his phone was out of commission, he hadn’t seen the text where I told him I loved him. At least not at that point. But now? Is that why I hadn’t heard from him? Was he mortified by what he’d read? Was he trying to figure out how to respond?
So all of that was weighing on me like an Earth-size boulder.
Someone really needed to invent a way to un-send texts.
“And that doesn’t even get into the whole Graham thing,” I said, breaking off another hunk of cookie as I tried to put Ryan and my declaration of love out my mind.
“Graham? What about him?”
Belatedly, I realized I hadn’t told her about what Annie had shared, and I wondered if I should say anything. Annie had been sort of caught up in the shock of the moment when she’d told me her fellow deputy was a suspect in Isaac’s death. But then again, she often openly talked about official law enforcement goings-on, with anyone and everyone.
Still I decided to err on the side of caution—and decency—and not gossip about Graham until I could at least corroborate what Annie had said.
“It’s nothing,” I told Olivia. “I think he’s just still rattled by Isaac Parnham’s death.”
That felt like it could be true, regardless of the circumstances. He could still be rattled with sadness—or rattled by the possibility that he might be implicated in his teammate’s death.
“Yeah, I can’t believe that,” Olivia said, shaking her head. “What a freak accident that was.”
I opened my mouth, then closed it.
I would not gossip.
Yet.
“How are you ladies tonight?” Brian Akers, the owner of the coffee shop, stopped at our table on his way to the front of the shop, a large cardboard box of to-go cups in his arms. “You need refills?” He looked toward the counter where a teen girl was busy making an espresso.
“I’m good, but thanks,” I told him. I glanced around the dining area and the counter. “Where is Gretchen tonight?”
He grinned. “She’s getting some extra practice in at the gym. Big weight-lifting competition next weekend up in Portland.”
Weightlifting. That secret society that apparently all of the women in Bayfield belonged to, including Brian’s wife.
Okay, so not all. Olivia and I weren’t involved, and I felt like I could confidently say Gertie Gunderson wasn’t, either. I didn’t think Diana Fleming had any interest in weights, unless her horoscope told her to look into them. Phoebe probably wasn’t, either, but since she only told me things on a need-to-know basis, maybe she actually was a world-class bodybuilder and I just had no idea.
Brian walked off with his box and I returned my attention to Olivia.
“Enough complaining from me,” I said, forcing a smile. I had been rambling for what felt like hours and Olivia had barely gotten a word in edgewise. “Tell me what’s going on with you.”
“You’re not complaining.”
I gave her a look.
“Okay, so maybe you’re complaining a little,” she admitted. “But you’re allowed. Especially to your best friend.”
My heart warmed at her choice of words. Olivia had indeed become my best friend, and I couldn’t imagine life in Bayfield without her.
“Thank you,” I said. “But I have nothing left to complain about.”
She chuckled. “Well, that’s good.” She lifted her drink and took a sip, and it was then I noticed the glimmer in her eye, the barely contained excitement.
Something was up, and I felt like the worst friend ever for just noticing the fact that she was bursting to tell me something.
“What?”
She let out a squeal of happiness.
I leaned forward, waiting.
“Okay, so you know how Lars bought my painting?”
I nodded. How could I forget?
“Well, he took a picture of it and shared it with a friend of his. Adam Willoughby.”
Olivia said the name as if she were dropping Tom Holland’s name on me. I racked my brain, trying to place it.
And failing.
I wasn’t the most up to date on pop culture. Maybe he was a YouTuber? A TikTokker?
I suddenly felt old. “Who?” I asked.
“Adam Willoughby,” she repeated. “He lives in Portland, comes from old money, is an art aficionado and part-owner of a couple of galleries up there. He wants to meet me!” She squealed again, and the couple next to us, an elderly couple sitting closer to the fireplace, turned to look. “And maybe talk about either commissioning some work or exhibiting some of the other pieces I’ve done!”
I breathed a sigh of relief that this guy was not someone I would know about, and then immediately made a mental note to try to stay more connected to pop culture. Just in case.
“That’s terrific news!” I was genuinely thrilled for her. She’d worked her tail off trying to create revenue streams and really leaning into her artistic endeavors. To see this opportunity present itself probably was a dream come true for her.
“I just can’t believe he wants to meet me and see my work,” she said dreamily.
“I’m so excited for you.”
Her gaze drifted to me, and the smile on her face slowly disappeared. “You need to focus on something.”
“What?”
Her eyebrows bunched together. “I can tell you’re still upset about Phoebe bringing that person on board.”
“I’m done talking about me,” I said firmly. “I want to hear about you.”
Phoebe narrowed her eyes, but she was smiling. “No, that’s not how this works. You need someone to talk to right now, someone to help you figure all of this out. I can tell you’re still upset about what Phoebe did. And you should be!”
It wasn’t just that. I was consumed with that stupid text to Ryan, and I was worried for Annie. All of it was taking up a lot of my mental space.
I bit my lip. Maybe I hadn’t looked or sounded as enthusiastic about Olivia’s news as I thought.
I was a horrible friend.
And, apparently, a really bad actress.
“I can read you like a book, Colby,” Olivia said, as if she really could read what I was thinking. “You need to do something and not let all of this fester.”
Easier said than done. I had no control over the text I wished I could unsend, I couldn’t cover law enforcement shifts for Annie, and going up against Phoebe and her plot to oust me from my job was like going into battle with Goliath. I could win some small fights, but I didn’t think I could pull off a David move. Not with her.
“I don’t know what to do,” I admitted.
“If you decide you really want the job at the Cheddar Haus, then fight for it,” Olivia said, focusing on helping to solve the only problem I’d told her about. She tucked one of her thin braids behind her ear. “Show her how valuable, how indispensible you are, so that she can’t let you go. Make sure she knows all the things you do and all the ways you have made the store thrive.”
I glanced down at the table.
Olivia didn’t have the whole story. She didn’t know what had precipitated the situation with Phoebe.
Her own artwork.
There was no way I was going to tell her because I knew she would feel guilty, like it was her fault. Which, of course, it wasn’t.
“I’ll think about it,” I murmured, picking up my coffee again and taking another sip.
“And in the meantime, maybe focus on something else,” Olivia said brightly. “That’s what I do when things get me down. I just shift my attention. If baking isn’t going great, I work on costumes. If my costume inventory is full or I get in a rut with creating new designs, I work on my paintings or my weaving or my pottery.”
Despite her good intentions, she was not making me feel better. I had none of those hobbies. My go-to was binge-watching shows on Netflix or Hulu.
“You should call Ryan.” She finally reached for the cookie and broke off a small piece. “He’ll make you feel better.”
My stomach flip-flopped. Normally, this might be true, but not when three charged words had been sent out into the ether and were waiting to be delivered by the gods of the Internet. Or worse, had been delivered and he’d gone radio-silent.
“Or Graham,” Olivia suggested. “You know, since Ryan is gone. You just said he’s still upset about his friend’s death. Maybe talking to him will help take your mind off what’s going on at the store. Give you enough distance so you can process and then decide what you want to do.”
I thought about this.
Maybe she was right. Maybe I should reach out to Graham.
But not for the reasons she was suggesting.
Obviously, I didn’t feel particularly close to Graham, but he didn’t seem to have the same reservations about me. After all, he’d invited me to his games and we’d gone to the batting cages together. And he knew I was dating Ryan, so I didn’t think he was romantically interested in me anymore.
Olivia was right. Graham might need someone to talk to about what was going on.
Especially since he might be a suspect in Isaac’s death.
My thoughts immediately shifted to Annie, and what she’d told me, too. With a young baby at home, she was worried she’d be asked to take extra shifts she wasn’t capable of covering.
Olivia had told me to focus on something else. Something other than the Cheddar Haus.
Maybe I could do that and help Annie at the same time.
And find out if Graham really was involved in Isaac’s death.
“Eat that.” Olivia pointed to the last bit of cookie on the napkin.
I was a Minnesotan.
We never took the last of anything.
But I was in Maine now.
I might be losing my job. A job I didn’t think I particularly liked but was now loath to be rid of.
I’d just sent an “I love you” text to my unsuspecting boyfriend…and hadn’t gotten a response.
And I was sitting on the news that a guy I knew—a guy who was sort of a friend—might be a suspect in another guy’s death.
I took the cookie.
Chapter 5
The next morning, I called Annie.
It was Tuesday, one of my normal days off, and I figured now was as good of a time as any to check in on Graham. I just needed his number, which I knew was something Annie would have.
Besides, maybe it would help keep my mind off of Jamie Green and wondering if she was at the Cheddar Haus right now, learning everything there was to know so she could take over my job.
Annie picked up immediately, not even offering a hello. “The blueberry cheese is perfect.”
“Is it?”
“Well, it’s not exactly a Skittle,” she conceded. “But there’s enough sweetness there to satisfy me.” She paused. “For now.”
I smiled. “I’m glad.” I grabbed a couple of mugs from the dish drainer, hoping to multi-task as we talked. “We have a lot of other cheeses infused with fruit. Feel free to stop by any time for some samples.”
“I just might do that,” she said. “Thanks for checking in.”
“Wait. I…I’m not just calling about the cheese.” In fact, I wasn’t calling about that at all. I’d actually forgotten about her Skittles substitute. “I was just wondering how Graham was doing.”
The line went quiet, and I could hear Blue cooing in the background like some sort of pet mourning dove.
Or maybe it actually was a dove. Maybe Annie had a pet bird.
But then a shriek nearly destroyed my eardrum and I knew Blue was nearby.
“What do you mean?” Annie asked.
I rubbed the back of my ear, which was still ringing.
Annie wasn’t usually one to hold back on information; if anything, I’d always found her lips to be pretty loose. She was the one who had volunteered the information that Graham was a suspect in Isaac’s death not twenty-four hours earlier.
I considered reminding her of this, but then thought again. Maybe being a bit more subtle might be a better approach.
“I was just thinking about him and how he seemed at the open house the other day,” I told her.
“How did he seem?”
“Upset,” I said. “A little…lost.” The more vague I was, the better. “I thought I might give him a call, see how he’s doing.”
“Upset? Really?” Annie sounded surprised.
Blue shrieked again, and to my untrained and now almost-deaf ear, I couldn’t tell if it was a happy one or a precursor to a scream fest. To save my hearing, I knew it was in my best interest to end the call as quickly as possible.
“Well, yeah, because of Isaac.” Okay, so I was projecting a little. Graham had seemed like his normal self at the open house.
