So, Nicole adopted Luna, and the rest was history.

  Luna’s presence didn’t stop Amy from visiting, though she did tend to keep her visits to under two hours. Twice divorced and always looking for the next great adventure, Amy was a whirlwind while Nicole viewed herself more as a breezy summer day. The two of them had been best friends since elementary school, and not only did Amy have a key to Nicole’s house, she also had blanket permission to stop by whenever she wanted—which was often, because she was currently using Nicole’s spare room as her sewing room for her newest endeavor into self-employment; making and selling custom clothing.

  The spare room was the only room in the house Luna wasn’t allowed in, and they ran a HEPA air filter in there to keep most of the cat dander out. When Nicole got home from the bakery that evening, she was unsurprised to find that Amy was hard at work in her sewing room. She poked her head in to say hi, then shooed Luna away and shut the door while Amy kept working. Much like Nicole, Amy was also getting inundated with orders for Christmas and had to work overtime to keep up with them.

  The next day was garbage day in Pebblehill, so Nicole took her dumpster down to the curb, then spent some time organizing her baking schedule for the next few days. Since she wanted every order to be at its peak freshness when she delivered it, she couldn’t do too much in advance. Some people were having holiday parties in the time preceding the holiday, of course, which meant she would be busy in bursts over the next few days. This coming weekend was going to be a tough one; she had two office parties and three private parties she was catering for, which meant she would be spending most of the weekend hard at work at the bakery. She knew she was looking at some late nights and early mornings, but with her grandmother’s help, it should be possible to get everything done on time.

  When Amy finished her sewing for the day, the two of them shared a glass of wine and chatted for a while. Nicole told her about the latest news from Russ, about Cooper Collins probably having run off with some of the town’s money, and the mayor putting Russ in charge of salvaging the project.

  “Sweetheart, you so obviously like him I’m surprised you’re not singing it from the rooftops. You’ve got to tell him, because if you lose out on a chance with him, you’re never gonna stop beating yourself up over it.”

  “Cooper?” Nicole responded, confused. She had been wondering if a lawsuit from the town would drive them out of business, a petty but tantalizing thought.

  Amy gave her an are-you-serious-right-now look. “No, obviously I mean Russ.”

  “If it’s that obvious that I have feelings for him, then he would have said something by now if he returned them.”

  “Just because it’s obvious to me doesn’t mean it’s obvious to him,” Amy said. “Sometimes you’ve just got to take a leap of faith. Trust me, I’ve learned a lot about what not to do in relationships. I think honest communication is the best policy. Don’t leave any room for questions. Be open, both about how you feel about him and what you want your relationship to turn into in the future.”

  “I know you’re right. And it’s not like I think he’ll be cruel about it or anything, even if he doesn’t feel the same way about me. I just have way too much on my mind right now.”

  Amy narrowed her eyes. “I know how good you are at putting things off. Promise me you’ll make it your New Year’s resolution to talk to him about how you feel.”

  “I promise,” Nicole said, laughing. She got up to get a sticky note and a pen and spoke as she wrote on it ‘New Year’s resolution — tell Russ I have mushy, romantic feelings for him.’ There, satisfied?”

  “All right.” Amy got up and stuck the note to her fridge. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

  All in all, even though it had been a busy week and was looking to be an even busier weekend, Nicole went to bed feeling happy a few hours after Amy left. She had her dream job, she was surrounded by people she loved, and other than her rushed holiday schedule, there wasn’t anything weighing on her mind. Her life was exactly where she wanted it to be, and as long as she worked hard to keep the bakery’s reputation up, she firmly believed things would only get better as time went on.

  She felt significantly less optimistic when her phone’s alarm woke her up at five in the morning. The bakery opened at seven and they had to have fresh baked goods ready to go on the display shelves before then. She had always been an early riser, but waking up at five every morning was still an adjustment, and one that was made all the more difficult by the glass of wine she’d had the evening before.

  She brushed her teeth and got dressed, having showered the night before, then dumped a can of expensive wet cat food into Luna’s bowl before she started making her coffee. She listened to the news on the radio while she worked in the kitchen. Only when she heard her town’s name did she really pay attention to it, though.

  “Latest on the hit-and-run in Pebblehill,” the radio announcer said. “It’s been confirmed that the victim is Cooper Collins, owner of local bakery Bread and Stuff. The police are looking for information on the vehicle an eyewitness saw hit him. It’s an antique blue convertible, possibly from the 70s or 80s. The eyewitness wasn’t sure exactly which model it was, but there can’t be that many vehicles like that out there. If this vehicle’s description sounds familiar to you, please contact the following number…”

  She stared at her radio, sure that she heard wrong.

  Cooper Collins was dead? After a beat of confused panic, she raced for her bedroom and snatched her phone up, typing in the web address for her favorite social media website. She knew the town’s local page would have the most up-to-date information.

  When she saw all of the posts mentioning Cooper Collins and the hit-and-run, she sat heavily on the edge of her bed.

  Not even twelve hours ago she had been hoping his bakery would go out of business, and the fact that she’d ever had that thought made her feel like a terrible person now. Even though she didn’t like him, she never in a million years would have wanted this. She felt sick as she scrolled down the web page, looking for more information. One of the posts repeated the description of the vehicle that had hit him, and she read it with narrowed eyes.

  It sounded a lot like her grandmother’s cherished antique car, but her grandmother hadn’t driven in years—and there was no way she would have committed a hit-and-run. It had to be a coincidence.

  Shaken, she rushed through the rest of her morning routine, then hurried to work. While she waited for her grandmother to arrive, she got started on the morning’s baking, thinking fondly of Russ as she made the big cinnamon rolls he liked so much.

  Her grandmother, who lived just two blocks away from the bakery, walked to work in all but the worst weather. Time after time, Nicole had told her she was more than happy to pick her up in the mornings and drop her off in the evenings, but her grandmother refused, claiming that the walking was good for her, and it was the most exercise she got these days.

  After the news about Cooper and the weird coincidence about the car, Nicole was a little more worried than usual about her grandmother, but those worries vanished when the elderly woman walked through the door, looking just as happy and healthy as ever.

  She greeted her grandmother with a hug and a kiss to the cheek, then quickly caught her up on where she was at in the day’s to-do list. While her grandmother began whipping up a batch of cookie dough, Nicole broached the topic of Cooper’s death.

  “It doesn’t feel real,” she added when she finished telling her about the hit-and-run. “I was just talking about him with Russ and Amy yesterday. I can’t believe he’s gone.”

  “Oh dear, and right before Christmas, too,” her grandmother said. “My heart goes out to his family. After what he put us through, I don’t have much sympathy for him, but I knew his parents and I tutored his sister back in the day. They’re going to have a tough Christmas.”

  Nicole’s stomach clenched. She hadn’t even thought of that. She didn’t know much about Cooper; she thought he had been married at some point and since divorced, but that was about it. Her grandmother, who was a social butterfly and was a lot more active in town than Nicole was, knew just about everything there was to know about the locals.

  “Should we do something?” Nicole asked. “Maybe give our condolences online or start a collection for his family?”

  She was still feeling guilty for hoping the town would sue him and thus put him out of business. The thought had felt petty even at the time, and now she felt positively monstrous.

  “I’ll leave that up to you,” her grandmother said. “You know so much more about all that social media stuff than I do.”

  It was an unusually somber morning at the bakery. Nicole put out the cinnamon rolls, and rearranged yesterday’s items on the day-old rack. She frosted cookies and made pies and chatted with customers. Even though some people were talking about Cooper Collins’s murder, most of them had the holiday on their mind. The day seemed almost normal up until midmorning, when a pair of uniformed officers came in.

  It wasn’t exactly unusual for Nicole to serve the police. Stereotypes aside, the local police did tend to like their donuts, but this time she could tell something was wrong as soon as they walked through the door. Even though she hadn’t done anything, she still felt jittery as she smiled at them and said, “Good morning, officers. What can I get for the two of you?”

  “Good morning, ma’am,” one of them said. “We’re looking for Marianne Bennett. We were told this is where we would find her. Is she present?”

  “She’s my grandmother,” Nicole said. “What do you want with her?”

  She knew she sounded defensive, but that was how she felt. Her grandmother had done nothing wrong.

  “I have an arrest warrant for her, ma’am,” the other officer said. He showed her a piece of paper. “She’s wanted in connection with a hit-and-run that happened earlier this morning.”

  “You have to be wrong,” Nicole said. “She doesn’t drive!”

  “Her car was found a block from the scene of the crime, with damage consistent to a hit-and-run.”

  “It couldn’t be her car,” she said, beginning to panic. “You have the wrong person.”

  “Ma’am, the vehicle in question belongs to Marianne Bennett. We verified the license plate and the VIN number, and even confirmed the current owner with the mechanic listed on the maintenance history. I understand this is difficult, but I need you to cooperate with us. Is your grandmother here?”

  Before Nicole could answer, her grandmother poked her head out from the kitchen and said, “What’s going on out there? Are you arguing with someone, Nicole?”

  Frozen and horrified, Nicole watched as the police marched around the counter and, gently but firmly, put her grandmother in handcuffs.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “We’re closed!”

  “What was that?”

  “Sorry, Mom. I just had more customers try to get in.”

  Nicole was sitting at the same table she and Russ had sat at yesterday, half of a cinnamon roll in front of her. The other half was in her stomach. She was a stress eater, a habit she normally tried to avoid indulging in, but the events of fifteen minutes ago had made her give in.

  She couldn’t even remember the last time she had been this stressed.

  “All right, I just got a text back from your dad. Are you sure you want us to meet you at the bakery?”

  “Yeah, I need to finish boxing up the food and cleaning the kitchen. If you want to wait for an hour, then I can meet at your house, but—”

  “No,” her mother said firmly. “This is a family emergency, and I’m calling a meeting now. Your brother says he can be there in twenty minutes. Your father and I will be there before then. I’m calling your uncle as soon as I get off the phone with you. I’m hoping he and Sheryl will be able to join us for a video call.”

  One thing Nicole loved about her family was how well they all came together when it was important, even though some of them were spread out across the country.

  And this was important. Her grandmother had been arrested with a homicide charge. It didn’t feel any more real than Cooper Collins’s death did. Nicole felt sick, though part of that was probably from the sugary cinnamon roll she had just eaten half of.

  “I’ll unlock the door when you get here,” she said. “I need to go, Mom. I have to tape up a sign to let people know why we’re closed for the day.”

  “What are you going to tell them?” her mother asked, a note of panic in her voice. Nicole loved her mother, and in a lot of ways, she was a good person, but she cared very deeply about public image to the point that it made her a little unreasonable at times.

  “I’ll just say it was a family emergency,” Nicole assured her. Another person tried the bakery door then peered inside when it didn’t open. Nicole groaned. “I’ve really got to go. See you soon.”

  She ended the call before her mother could say anything else and stood up, marching over to the door to unlock it and pull it open.

  “I’m so sorry, but I’m in the middle of a family emergency. We’ll be closed for the rest of the day.”

  “Oh,” the woman took a step back, her eyes widening with uncertainty. “I’m sorry, it’s just… I had an order I was supposed to pick up this afternoon, and I was hoping you may have gotten it done early? It was two pies.”

  Right, she did have a couple of orders due today. Nicole dragged a hand through her hair. “Of course, I’m so sorry. It’s been a hectic morning, but I’ll still get your order to you. When do you need it by?”

  “Well, I was supposed to pick them up at two, but as early as possible would be best. I need to pick up my brother from the airport before I go to my parents’ place, and I’m going to be cutting it close as it is.”

  “Come back in an hour and a half,” Nicole said. “Your pies will be ready by then.”

  “Thank you so much.”

  After the woman left, Nicole closed and relocked the door, then scribbled out a quick note to tape to the glass explaining that there was a family emergency, the bakery would be closed for the rest of the day, but that everyone who had prearranged a pickup for an order today would still be getting whatever they had ordered.

  Then, she hid herself in the kitchen and started baking. By the time her parents arrived, both of the pies were already in the oven, and she had started on a batch of sugar cookies for her next order. She ushered her parents into the kitchen and made them put on hair nets and wash their hands before she resumed rolling out the dough. They grilled her on exactly what the police had said and done when they brought her grandmother in for questioning, and as soon as Nicole’s brother, Zane Bennett, arrived, she had to repeat herself.

  She flat out refused to go through the entire thing a third time, when her uncle who lived in California video called them.

  While her family squabbled amongst themselves, she finished up the last two orders and began cleaning the kitchen. Even though the good-natured arguing raised her blood pressure, it made her feel better to have them there. Finally, when Nicole was almost done cleaning up for the day, her mother stood up and shouted at them all to be quiet.

  “We need to figure out what we’re going to do.”

  “Well, we’re going to get her a lawyer, aren’t we?” Zane said. “She’s going to need one whether she did it or not. What are we thinking, anyway? Did she do it?”

  When no one answered him right away, Nicole put her hands on her hips. “Of course she didn’t! Grandma wouldn’t kill someone. What are you even trying to say, Zane?”

  “I don’t think she would have done it on purpose,” he said. “But she’s getting older. Maybe her mind’s starting to go.”

  Nicole narrowed her eyes at him. “Grandma’s mind is not starting to go. She’s just as sharp as ever. I would know, wouldn’t I? I’ve spent almost every day working side by side with her since we opened the bakery in the spring, and she’s been fine. She’s not having memory problems, and on top of that, she doesn’t drive anymore, which all of you know.”

  “I’m just saying, she’s what, eighty-four—”

  “She didn’t do it, Zane!”

  “Enough, you two,” their father cut in. “Let your mother speak.”

  “I agree with Zane that we need to find a lawyer for her,” her mother said. “Jules, will you handle that? I know you haven’t been in the state for a while, but out of all those people at the law firm you used to work with, surely one of them could give us a recommendation.”

  Nicole’s uncle nodded through the screen. “I’ll get on that. I’ll send you a text once I have someone lined up.”

  He said a quick goodbye to them and ended the call, leaving just Nicole and her immediate family to figure out what was next.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  After another twenty minutes of alternately arguing and panicking, they dispatched Nicole’s father to the police station to try to get some answers in person. Her mother decided to go home and start looking up bail bond businesses in the area. Nicole’s brother opted to join her, but Nicole had to stay at the bakery.

  “I still have more orders I have to get done today, and a few things I need to prepare for tomorrow. I’m sorry, Mom, but I just can’t lose a whole day of work right now.”

  “Your grandmother was arrested in front of your eyes, Nicole! Don’t you have more important things to focus on?”

  “Grandma would want me to stay here and do this,” she said firmly. “She wants this bakery to succeed as much as I do. I’ll come over later, but I’m going to finish things up here first.”

  After she shut the bakery’s door behind her still-complaining mother and turned the lock so hopeful customers wouldn’t be able to get in, Nicole barely made it back to the kitchen before collapsing onto a stool and letting out the deepest sigh of her life. How had everything gone so wrong? Yesterday had been a normal day, but now, it was as if the world had turned on its head. How could her kind, innocent grandmother have been arrested under suspicion of murder, of all things? Sure, she could see how the evidence might look suspicious, if it really was her grandmother’s car…

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7