Raisin the Dead (10 page)

Daniel Bixby. I was surprised to see him at my open house. Even more surprising was the bag of bagels in his hand. He rarely visits the bakery, and when he does, he barely ekes out a hello to me, as if I were also responsible for the fact he wasn't the library director.

I cleared my throat and tried speaking without a quiver in my voice. Confrontation isn't my strong point. “Mr. Bixby, I appreciate your patronage. I'm happy to see you at Bread and Batter Bakery's open house, but please refrain from spreading malicious gossip about my mother. It's hurtful to me, besides not being true.”

The crowd stilled, waiting to see how he'd react. I wouldn't be surprised if everyone in the bakery could hear my pounding heart. Daniel gave me a disgusted look as he strode towards the front door. “The truth will come out. While your mother sits in prison, I'll be appointed director, as I should've been in the first place. The Westley House will remain exactly where it is, instead of being demolished. Its historical significance will not be diminished for future generations. If Baldelli's death stops the expansion, then at least he didn't die for nothing.”

I shivered at his tone. I wondered if he'd gone as far as killing Baldelli so he could frame my mother. Between being bitter about not being the director, and his vehemence against the Westley House being “violated,” maybe he'd lost his mind.

Less than a second later, I realized how absurd that was. There was no certainty the library board would make him director if my mother was out of the way. My mother had been director for seven years. Why wasn't he over it by now? Why was he still stewing about it?

In addition, there was no assurance the demolition project wouldn't go through just because my mother and Philip weren't around. Then I realized that murderers aren't always rational; they have dark places that the rest of us can't imagine visiting.

“Good riddance,” one of my customers said once the door had closed on Daniel. “Don't listen to him, Molly. He's an idiot. Your mother's a saint for putting up with him. I am so sorry you had to hear his crap. He sounds positively senile.”

“That's right,” said Vanessa, her head bobbing up and down. “Vile man. We all support Annie, don't we?” She looked around the crowd. Most of them nodded in agreement, others seemed to only be interested in how many free bagels and cupcakes they could consume before the open house ended.

“I really don't think the expansion is necessary,” a woman at the cash register spoke up. I didn't recognize her. She snatched her change from Kendra then looked at the rest of us. “I mean, there's nothing wrong with the library as it is. You can't disrupt those frogs. Wasn't it their land first? And, what about the Westley House? The advisory board wants to tear it down. I have to agree with Mr. Bixby. It has major historical significance.”

“That's true,” another woman inserted, “but frogs can be moved and maybe the library can find some way to preserve the house.”

“It's another excuse to raise our taxes,” the first woman responded. “Wait and see.”

“The library is important to this town,” argued Vanessa. “Look at all the programs Annie Tyler has instituted, never mind the various classes offered, the public computers, and the homework program for kids.”

“All that doesn't require an expansion. I don't want to see the frogs harmed, or the Westley House destroyed,” a man with a box of cupcakes in his hands asserted.

“The Westley House is falling down, for God's sake. Who cares about frogs? Do you know how many species of frogs there are? I bet you never even heard of the Yellow Spikey Tree Frog before this. You didn't care anything about them,” retorted Vanessa.

“I definitely support the expansion,” called out another woman standing at the counter. “It's long overdue. The library is one of our most important institutions. My kids love the afternoon story times and puppet shows. If you don't care about the library, don't go, but don't take it away from the rest of us.”

Oh boy. I didn't want this to turn into some kind of bakery brawl. “We all have our opinions. I'm sure the Library Advisory Board has looked at all angles and will do what's best for the town and library. I hope you all are enjoying the open house.”

“The best thing would be to forget the expansion before anyone else ends up dead. How can it be a good thing when someone was killed over it? There's a stain on the expansion now. Philip Baldelli's death should serve as a warning for your mother, Molly.” This was from the woman who was still standing at the cash register.

“We don't know why Mr. Baldelli was killed,” spoke Vanessa. “Maybe it had nothing to do with the expansion.”

The woman at the cash register took her bag from the counter and snorted. “What fairy-tale land are you living in, sister? Of course it was about the expansion.”

“Let's all calm down,” I stepped in again. “We're here to celebrate Bread and Batter's fifth anniversary. Has everyone been waited on?” I slipped behind the counter to assist those who hadn't been, then had Kendra ring them up.

I was relieved when no one else shouted out. Daniel's rant had left me feeling queasy. I couldn't deal with anyone else's anger. I had no opinion regarding his senility, except that he was too young for that, but the venom with which he spat out his words had sounded all too real.

“Did you see the paper this morning?” someone in the back asked. “The police also questioned that perfume lady. Serafina something or other.” She nodded at Vanessa. “I agree with her. Why aren't the police arresting her? I bet she's the killer. Too coincidental, if you ask me. What's she doing here, all holed up at Castle Shore?”

“Please, folks. Let's stop all this conjecture,” Olivia called out. “We want our open house to be a happy celebration. Molly and I want to thank all of you for dropping by and for supporting us.” She raised a cup of coffee. “Here's to another fifty years for Bread and Batter Bakery.”

Murmurs of congratulations rose up. I was glad that the conversation turned to mundane things like the pothole problem on Green Street, and how come we didn't have pumpkin bagels.

Once the crowd dispersed, Olivia left to run some errands. Kendra and I both took a few minutes to straighten up. I was grateful she didn't pepper me with questions. “I'll be in the office if you need me.”

“Okay. Molly?”

I paused. I really didn't want to discuss anything about murder, the library, or my mother, but she didn't deserve being snipped at. “What is it?”

“I'm sorry about your mom being in the paper and all. I know she didn't kill Mr. Baldelli. Everyone knows that. We're all here for you.”

I relaxed then reached out and hugged her. “Thanks. That means a lot to me.”

I went into my office and updated the bakery's Facebook page with the cupcake flavors that were coming next week, a picture of the Batman cake I'd made earlier, along with a cake I'd made for a baby shower, then posted a few pictures of Noelle with some cute captions. Bread and Batter's Facebook followers loved Noelle, maybe even more than my updates. Our page already had over a thousand followers.

I then went to the Destiny Dishes Facebook page. Besides debating who had the best pizza in town—a topic that's discussed at least every day, so you'd think the town would've come to a consensus by now—the hot topic was who was most likely to have killed Philip Baldelli: my mother or Ms. Alessi.

I was glad to see the scales tilted away from my mother, but I didn't exactly think Serafina had killed him, either. What did she have to gain? I didn't think money was an issue. It could have been someone from the Oleandra County Preservation Society or the Destiny Trust for Historic Preservation. People feel strongly about their convictions, and sometimes murder seems like the only answer, even if it's a horrible one they regret later.

Maybe it was Daniel Bixby after all. Kill Baldelli, then frame my mother. Maybe in his mind, he thought he'd be appointed library director if my mother were gone. Whoever did it definitely wanted Philip Baldelli out of the way. Daniel had good reason: Without Baldelli's money, there would be no expansion. At least that's probably what he thought. I was reasonably sure Baldelli's murder had been planned. Someone took the time to poison him and have my mother to take the fall.

I realized the murderer could probably be any number of people. My mother had mentioned Baldelli had gotten harmful threats. Whoever had sent those seemed most likely to be a killer. Was Sean trying to find that person? I dug through my purse and found my cell phone.

Hi. How's it going? I just remembered my mother telling me that Mr. Baldelli was being threatened. I think whoever did that to him may be his killer. Did she tell you about them?

Hi there. Everything's good. She did mention that. Anything else?

Are you following up on that information?

I hadn't thought of it, but now that you mention it, maybe I should.

I smirked at him through my phone.
Funny.

I've been told humor is one of my many talents. Anything else?

Talk to Daniel Bixby. He's a librarian. He hates my mother because he wanted to be library director. Maybe he killed Baldelli and framed her.

Interesting angle. Anything else?

Did you see the paper today? Who's the confidential source feeding Bobby Crandall information about Baldelli 's murder? Is it someone in the department?

I can't speak about that. Anything else?

Not at the moment, but thank you for asking so many times.
I can do snarky as well as he does.

Good. See you for dinner later, babe.

Looking forward to it. Let's not talk about the Baldelli case, agreed?

I won't argue with that!

I tucked my phone away. My exhilaration at falling in love was diminishing, replaced by anxiety and angst that I didn't think a warm bubble bath would relieve. What if Sean bumped my mother up to official suspect? How could I have a relationship with him? It would be a serious conflict of interest. Separating the man I love from the man who had to catch a killer that he thinks may be my mother was easier said than done. The thought of my mother being a murder suspect and the thought of losing Sean were almost equally shattering to me, although my mother had the lead.

I needed to put the whole thing out of my mind. If I didn't, I'd drive myself crazy. I had two birthday cakes to work on, and we had a steady stream of customers to take care of during the afternoon. I was contemplating Kendra's efficiency as she waited on people when an idea popped into my head. After putting both my cakes in the oven, I pulled her aside during a lull between customers. “Remember during Calista's murder when you and your friends were parading in front of the bakery trying to summon Calista's ghost or whatever, and wanted to hold a séance to contact Calista?”

She nodded. “Sure. You were against it though.”

“Yes, well, since my mother is a person of interest in Baldelli's murder, I may have changed my mind. Do you and your friends still do the aura readings, tell the future, and the visions and bad vibes thing?”

She nodded her head. “Totally. Although we haven't needed to do any of those things recently, so we may be a little rusty. And it was hard with Calista because her property was sealed off.” She sobered. “I'm sure Mr. Baldelli 's property is sealed off, too.”

“You're probably right.” I couldn't believe I was about to ask this. I ordinarily don't believe in ghosts, séances, or contacting dead people, especially the contacting dead people thing. They should be left alone in their eternal rest. I imagined they wouldn't be too happy to be summoned back to life as it were, to relive what may have been an unpleasant death.

However, I'd make an exception this time, if it would help remove my mother as a person of interest on a certain detective's list. Really, who wouldn't consider all options if their flesh and blood were on the brink of being indicted for murder at any moment? I took a deep breath. “Can you and your friends do a séance for me and try contacting Mr. Baldelli?”

“You aren't joking, are you?” Kendra clapped her hands together, looking as if I'd made all her dreams come true. “You want a séance?”

“Yes,” I mumbled before I came to my senses. “It couldn't hurt, right?” I had pictures of inviting the devil and various hounds of hell into my life, then having to contact Father Davidson at Our Lady of Perpetual Help Catholic Church (otherwise known as OLPH) to do an exorcism on me. Exorcism wasn't the forte of we Episcopalians, at least not in the movies.

“Ooooh,” she squealed. “I can't wait to text Jimmy, Tiffany, and Jason. They'll be thrilled. We'd planned to form our own company. I think I told you that. Unfortunately, there hasn't been a big demand for our services, so we've kind of stalled on that. Wouldn't it be a total thrill if Mr. Baldelli actually told us who killed him?”

“Is he going to show up?” That didn't sound so appetizing.

“No. Not in person, I mean. Just his spirit. But we don't see it. Do you know anything about séances?” she asked.

“I saw one done on an old rerun of
I Love Lucy
. And I think maybe Nancy and her friends may have done one in one of my Nancy Drew books; I'm not sure.”

“Pffft. Whatever. I don't know what you're talking about. I'll tell you how it works. We need a minimum of three people. That's taken care of. One will function as the medium, probably Jimmy. He will summon and communicate with Mr. Baldelli. The rest of us will follow his lead. Just a warning, we can't ask Mr. Baldelli silly questions if he responds. That tends to anger spirits. They have to cross worlds to answer us and this is painful for them. Are you with me so far?”