Chicken Soup & Homicide - Culinary Competition Mystery #2

Chapter 28

(Amy)

The former gift shop was really looking like a dining room. The walls were painted a rich café au lait color. The wood floor was refinished with espresso-colored stain. A large opening had been cut in the wall between the space and Riverbend Coffee. The wide doorway was covered with plastic sheeting, but once the new café was open, the dining area would be twice as large and Riverbend Café would be a reality. Tables and chairs were the only things missing. Another smaller doorway had been added to join the lobby of Maxson's Bakery to the café complex. Since the space was so small a soft drink and tableware station had been installed there.

Amy smiled at one of the construction workers who was building the frame for the new pass-through. He looked at her for a few seconds, then shook his head like he was disgusted. She owned a lot of makeup, but no concealer was heavy enough to completely hide the black eye from the Trisha-assisted face-plant into the hospital room wall. Judging from his reaction, the man probably thought she was in an abusive relationship. She touched her fingertips to the bruise and said, "I ran into a door in the dark a few nights ago."

She had run into the bathroom doorframe on her way to a puking spree. That didn't cause the bruise, but she hoped the excuse helped ease the construction worker's mind. She certainly couldn't forget that a former trusted friend had done the physical damage. The man resumed working, and Amy continued on her search. Swinging doors had been installed in the doorway that led to the big kitchen that used to be Maxson's Bakery. She tapped on one of the metal doors and pushed it open. Sophie was standing at one of the worktables, piping squiggles of chocolate glaze on a tray of cookies.

"What are you doing here? You should be home resting after everything you've been through," she said as she tossed the piping bag into a glass measuring cup. Sophie wiped her hands on her apron and charged Amy, wrapping her in a bear hug. "How are you doing?"

"I'm good," Amy mumbled into Sophie's shoulder. "Just bored from sitting around the house."

Sophie released her from the stranglehold and took a step back. She gently pushed back the hair that Amy had tried to brush forward to conceal the scratches and bruises on her face. "Trisha did this to you? I can't believe it. I thought she was our friend."

"I did too." Amy re-fluffed her hair. "Want to know the worst part? Pitts had questioned her as a suspect. Too bad she turned on her hippie–vixen routine and got him to think with his nether region instead of brain."

"Not much different than her playing the helpful-friend charade with us." Sophie kicked the leg of the worktable with the side of her foot. The hollow metal tube rang like a gong. "I thought I was a good judge of people, but she had me completely fooled."

"You're not the only one." Amy took a deep breath but quickly released it. Her ribs ached from the herbalist abuse.

"Why don't we go grab a latte and sit down." Sophie pushed the swinging door and held it open. "You don't look like you should be on your feet for too long, and I want more details about what happened."

Amy followed Sophie across the construction zone and into the coffee shop. She placed her order with the barista for a maple pecan latte and a slice of apple strudel, then found an easy chair in front of the fireplace. She had thought she felt good enough to at least make a couple of loaves of quick bread, but sinking into the warm overstuffed chair was a much more pleasant option. Sophie arrived with the drinks and settled in the easy chair beside Amy's. "You have to tell me what happened."

Recounting everything that had gone on over the last few days was more than a bit surreal. Amy wrapped up with, "And my life is officially stranger than fiction."

Sophie patted the back of Amy's hand. "I'm glad you're still here to tell me your tale." She crossed her legs. "I don't want to pressure you, but have you given any thought to working here? Of course, you can take all the time you need to recover. But I think you and I would work really well together."

"You think?" Amy giggled. "I thought we already are working like a precision machine."

"You're right. We make a great team."

Amy stared at the flames dancing in the fireplace. Her intuition had failed her with Trisha, but going back to work with Sophie just felt right. She shifted her gaze to Sophie and smiled. "Then there's no reason to break up a good team."

After chatting about hours and schedules, Amy headed for home. The pleasant outing had drained her energy. A long, rejuvenating nap was in order. She was waffling between napping on the living room couch or in the bedroom when she pulled into the driveway. Carla's red Nissan Juke was parked on the road. Her friend got out and began walking up the driveway as Amy parked in the garage.

"I'm glad you're here," Carla said when Amy met her on the path to the side door. "When I saw nobody was home, I thought you may have gotten sick again. Sometimes aftereffects can last for a while in a poisoning."

"The doctor said I just had to rest for a few days. He didn't say I had to stay home. Riverbend is very relaxing."

"You nut." Carla nudged her with her elbow. "I'm not here to play medical monitor. I just came to check on you."

"Thanks." Amy punched in the security code and opened the kitchen door for Carla. "I'm tired, but I feel pretty good other than that."

"Glad to hear that," Carla said as she slipped off her boots on the rug.

Amy quickly hung up her coat and headed to the coffeemaker. "So how are you? How's it going with Shepler now that life is back to normal?"

"We couldn't be happier. Can I have a cookie?"

"Sure," Amy said as she dumped Kenyan coffee beans into the grinder. She turned around to find Carla pulling an oatmeal cookie out of the jar on the island. On her ring finger, a giant princess-cut diamond ring sparkled in the sunshine. "You're engaged?"

"I am!" Carla jumped up and down while Pogo joined in the excitement and twirled at her feet.

"I want all the details," Amy said as she shooed Carla toward the breakfast nook. "When did this happen?"

Carla bounced onto the bench. "He asked me last night over a candlelight dinner. He had the ring when we went to Detroit, but I messed everything up by breaking up with him." Carla whacked her fist on the table. "It all worked out, but I wish Pitts was still around so I could personally thank him for messing up my life."

"I would be happy to bake some brownies for him..." Amy grinned. "With laxatives in them. It wouldn't make up for everything he's done, but it would be funny."

"You know, I love the way you think, but I can't deliver them." Carla leaned back and shook her head. "The department fired him. They frown upon having investigations screwed up because the detective is literally screwing the murderer. Bruce said Pitts has already moved out of his apartment. Nobody knows where he's gone."

"Maybe he's hanging out at the fleabag motel near the jail so he can make daily conjugal visits with his sweetheart."

"I guess he's lucky he didn't wind up in jail himself. Kind of ironic that he ended up ruining his own career. Shepler got a chance to talk with Pitts before he disappeared. Trisha wasn't lying about his partner being killed. The kicker is, Pitts was pursuing the wrong suspect in an investigation. His partner was ambushed and killed while trying to interview the man Pitts thought was just a witness to the murder." Carla held out her hand and studied her new piece of jewelry. Tiny rainbows danced on the window molding in the breakfast nook. "But I don't want to talk about him anymore. What I really came here for, besides showing you my gorgeous ring, is to ask if you will help plan my wedding."

"It would be an honor." Amy blinked back tears. A year earlier she couldn't imagine Carla getting married. Now she was sitting across from the ecstatic bride-to-be. "Here's to many years of happiness for you and Bruce. And may you never forget that I'm the one that hooked you two up."