The Sweet Dreams Bake Shop (A Sweet Cove Mystery Book 1) (13 page)

“So?” Jenna’s face was puzzled.

“Betty Hayes pressed Professor Linden to sell the Victorian. The agent’s commission would be huge on a sale like that. The professor considered selling her house not long ago, but she changed her mind.”

Jenna lowered her voice. “Did Betty…?”

Ellie’s fingers trembled as she touched her temple. “Did Betty kill the professor?”

“So she could get the commission.” Courtney leaned close. “Betty knew the professor had no relatives. Betty’s the only Realtor in town. The lawyer would have given her the listing.”

“There she is over there.” The three sisters followed Jenna’s gaze across the room where Betty was talking animatedly to Josh and Davis and Adam Prescott. “They better watch out for her.”

“How much of a plant would you need to kill someone?” Angie asked Courtney.

“Not much. Just grind some up. Steep it in boiling water. Then add some of the water to whatever someone is drinking.”

“How do you know this stuff?” Angie’s face was pale.

Courtney made a face. “I watch crime shows.”

Jenna said, “The professor had a heart condition.”

Courtney glanced around to make sure no one was standing nearby. “With a heart condition, it wouldn’t take much to kill her. Her heart would go into A-Fib. She might even have a seizure.”

“That’s exactly what happened.” Angie’s eyes filled with tears remembering the professor on the ground next to her front porch stairs. “This is awful. I was just at Betty’s house the other day.”

“We need to tell the chief what we think about Betty,” Courtney said.

“Not here, though. Not tonight.” Angie brushed at her eyes. “We could be wrong about her. It could be someone else that did it.”

“It’s possible. But we should tell the chief anyway. He comes into the shop in the afternoons sometimes,” Jenna said. “There aren’t as many people in the shop at that time. We can tell him then.”

Angie arrived for her appointment at Attorney Jack Ford’s office a few minutes early. She introduced herself to the receptionist and took a seat pretending to look through a magazine, but in reality she was too on edge to focus on any of the articles. Angie tried to distract herself by thinking about the Victorian’s renovations, but her thoughts kept jumping to Jack Ford, his bow tie, and why he had been in her house.

Angie had to admit that it wasn’t her house when Ford broke into the mansion, and technically it wasn’t her house now either since she had to wait for the probate proceedings to be completed before the deed was in her possession. The professor owned the house and was dead. The professor had no relatives and the recipients of the inheritance didn’t own anything yet, so who was in charge of the house?
Jack Ford.
He was the professor’s administrator and he had a key to the Victorian. It couldn’t be said that he broke in then, since he had a key as well as the authority to check on the house.
Why didn’t I think of this before? But why did he run when he heard me in the house? And why was the house dark? What was he up to that he needed to run away from the premises?

“Ms. Roseland.” The receptionist stood a few feet from Angie.

Angie looked up. It was clear that the receptionist had called her name more than once. Flustered, Angie picked up her purse and jacket and followed the woman into Ford’s office.

Ford was behind his desk when Angie entered, and he stood to greet her. He wore a brown, tweed jacket, crisp white shirt, and a yellow bow tie. He was about Angie’s height and he had a lean build. Angie thought that if he wasn’t so twitchy and severe that he could be considered quite good-looking.

Ford’s movements were quick and efficient as he extended his arm over the desk to give Angie’s hand a hurried shake. “Please, sit. I hope you’re doing well.”

Angie took a seat in one of the chairs in front of the dark, wooden desk. “Yes, thank you.”

“Everything is in order with the will and is ready for your signature.” Ford removed the paperwork from a leather folder and placed it on the desk in front of Angie so that she could examine it. “Please read it over to be sure it is satisfactory.”

Angie took a few minutes to review the will. “It all looks fine to me.”

“Very good.” Ford buzzed his receptionist to come in. “Mrs. Adams will act as signatory witness.”

Ford placed a silver pen in front of Angie and gave one to Mrs. Adams. He opened the documents to the correct pages and indicated where each should sign. Ford signed both copies and nodded to Mrs. Adams that she was dismissed. “I will keep one copy here on file in the office.” He folded the second copy, inserted it into an envelope, and handed it to Angie. “This is an original of the will as you requested.”

“Thank you.” Angie placed the envelope in her purse.

“How are things at the Victorian?” Ford asked. “Any issues that I should be aware of?”

“Nothing. No problems have come up. I had a contractor take a look at the house and he’ll be sending me an estimate for the renovations I’d like to have done.” Angie gave Ford a pointed look. “I understand that nothing can be started until I have the deed to the home.”

Ford nodded. He had remained straight-faced and without expression throughout the interaction with Angie. She wondered if he was always so formal and humorless. She had yet to see even a glimmer of a smile on his face. Everything was businesslike and direct, no chit chat at all, only the most minor polite questions.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” Ford was ready to send Angie on her way.

Angie’s heart started to pound. “Oh, I nearly forgot,” she lied. She reached into her purse and removed the bow tie. She placed it on Ford’s desk.

“I think you left this behind when you were in the Victorian.” Angie watched the lawyer’s face closely.

Ford regarded the tie. Something flickered over his face and was gone, his usual blank expression remaining intact. “I don’t believe I’m missing a tie.”

Angie narrowed her eyes at Ford. “I don’t know anyone else in Sweet Cove who wears a bow tie.”

“Well.” He shook his head. “I don’t recognize it.”

“You must have a large collection, then.” Angie leaned against the chair back and folded her hands in her lap to indicate that she wasn’t quite ready to leave the office. She waited to see if Ford would say anything more.

Ford shifted in his seat about to stand up when Angie said, “Attorney Ford, I think we need to have a talk.” She glanced at the open office door. “A private talk.”

Angie thought she noticed a pink tinge on Ford’s cheeks as he rose, walked over to the door, closed it, and returned to his desk chair.

“What would you like to discuss, Ms. Roseland?”

Angie used a courteous tone when she said, “Why were you in the Victorian on the night that Professor Linden died?”

Ford cleared his throat. “The night the professor died?”

Angie exhaled loudly. “I know you have a key to the house. I know you’re the administrator of the estate and you have the right to inspect the property.” Angie paused. “So I wonder why you ran from the house when I showed up to take care of the cat.”

“I didn’t
run
from the house.” Ford seemed to think that anyone who ran anywhere would be considered most undignified. “You were in the house that night? I didn’t know that. If I recall correctly, I believe I stopped by the Victorian to look for some paperwork, to be sure I was in possession of Professor Linden’s most recent will.”

“You left the back door unlocked,” Angie told him.

“Did I?”

Angie had to keep from rolling her eyes.
He’s good, coming up with a story on the fly like this.
“When I was here previously to discuss the preparation of my will, I arrived early. I overheard you speaking on the phone. You said something like, ‘I couldn’t spend time looking for it with her downstairs in the house’ and ‘I’ll take care of it.’ Is there something you want from the Victorian?”

The tiniest smile played over the attorney’s mouth and for a moment, Angie thought he was going to be straight with her, but then he batted the air with his hand. “Ms. Roseland, you can’t imagine that everything is about you and the Victorian. I have many clients. I’m not sure what you overheard, but there is nothing sinister at work. I assure you, I have only your best interests in mind.”

As annoyance and exhaustion flooded Angie’s body, she felt reprimanded by the attorney and for a second wondered if everything he was saying was true.
Then, why do I always feel like he’s about to tell me something more and then changes his mind at the last second?
Ford had an answer for everything. She felt like she would never get anything important out of him.

Just as she was about to get up to leave, Angie remembered something else. She knew Ford would dismiss what she was about to ask, but Angie wanted him to know that she was aware that the professor had met with him about this. “Shortly before Professor Linden’s passing, I understand that she came to see you. She wanted to know something about her father.”

Ford let out a long breath. “Client confidentiality prevents me from discussing client meetings or the content of such meetings.”

Angie had to use all of her will power not to fling herself over the desk and strangle Ford. She nodded and stood up. “Have a pleasant afternoon, Attorney Ford.”

“And you, Ms. Roseland. I’ll be in touch as probate proceeds on the estate.” He almost smiled.

Angie turned and left the office. When she reached the sidewalk, she swallowed her anger and frustration and bit the inside of her cheek to keep from bursting into tears.

Angie walked to her bake shop covering the distance in record time. She was full of negative energy and even though all of tomorrow’s bakery treats had been prepared and were ready to go, she needed to be moving around and working with her hands. She threw her jacket on the back of one of the café chairs and pulled a fresh apron over her head and tied it in back. She flicked the lights on in the back room and hurried about pulling out flour, sugar, butter, salt, and milk. Angie decided to make a few fruit pies. She’d bring one home for dessert tonight and put the other two out for the customers tomorrow.

Bustling around the room helped her pent up emotions start to wind down. Just as she was measuring out the flour, she heard a knock on the café door. Angie sighed.
Someone must have seen the light and thought we were open.
She wiped her hands on a cloth, and hurried to the front of the shop to inform the person that the shop was closed. Jenna’s face was peering through the glass window of the door.

Angie hurried to unlock it. Jenna swept inside. Tom stood in the doorway. “So how did it go? Did you whoop that lawyer into shape?”

Before she could say a word, Angie burst into tears. Tom’s eyes widened in surprise and he wrapped Angie in a bear hug. She buried her face into the front of Tom’s flannel work shirt. Still holding her, Tom moved Angie into the shop and Jenna shut the door. “What on earth happened?”

Embarrassed, Angie stepped away from Tom and pulled the hem of her apron up to wipe the tears from her face. She sat down at one of the café tables. Tom sat too and Jenna hurried to get a glass of water for her sister. Angie sipped the cool water and held the glass against her temple.

“I’m sorry. I’m an idiot.”

Jenna put her hand over Angie’s. “Tell us.”

Angie explained everything that had gone on at Attorney Ford’s office. “He probably didn’t do anything wrong at all. He was probably just doing what he says, looking for a copy of the professor’s will. He’s the administrator of the estate. He can go into the house. And of course he can’t divulge anything that he and the professor talked about in private. I don’t even know why I brought it up.” She stared at her glass and groaned. “I felt like a little kid being scolded by some old man.”

“Yes. Old. He’s probably Tom’s age,” Jenna said, with a sly smile.

Tom scowled. “I’m just a few years older than you.”

“Ancient,” Jenna teased.

Tom ignored the comment. “The way Ford dresses and his body language makes him seem like he’s an old man. Don’t pay any attention to him, Angie. I still think he was up to no good, skulking around in your house. Why didn’t he just say hello when he heard you in the house that night? Why were the lights off? Running away makes him look suspicious.”

“I agree.” Jenna nodded. “I think we still need to be careful of him.”

Angie let out a sigh. “You’re right. Why were the lights off?” Just sitting and talking with Tom and Jenna helped to dissipate her tension. They were right. They needed to be on guard around Ford.

She had to remember to ask Police Chief Martin if he had given a new key to Attorney Ford when he arranged to have the locks changed at the house. Angie didn’t want Ford being able to enter the Victorian whenever he pleased. She didn’t think it would be wrong to limit his access to the house to only pre-arranged times.

Angie looked at Tom and Jenna and narrowed her eyes. “Why are you two together anyway?” To Angie’s knowledge, the two of them had never spent any time alone with one another.

A blush tinged Jenna’s cheeks and she started stammering.

Tom said, “We just ran into each other here in town.”

“Oh?” The corners of Angie’s mouth turned up and she looked at them suspiciously. “You just ran into each other? Your meeting wasn’t planned?”

“What? No.” Jenna pushed a strand of her soft, brown hair away from her face. In order to avoid Angie’s scrutiny, she got up and went to the counter to make herself a latte.

“Hmm.” Angie turned to Tom without saying a word. She formed a heart with the fingers of her hands and held it in front of her chest. She had to suppress a chuckle when Tom rolled his eyes at her.

Angie was refilling Tom’s coffee when Josh Williams entered the bake shop and when he saw Angie standing behind the counter, his face lit up. While smiling at Angie, he greeted Tom and sat down on the counter stool next to him. Josh’s smile sent tingles skittering over Angie’s skin and she was almost embarrassed at the effect Josh had on her.

“Coffee?” Angie’s eyes sparkled.