Bittersweet Betrayal: Spirited Sweets Paranormal Cozy Mystery Book 1 Page 3

  I swear from under her breath, I heard my sister say, "What an idiot." Autumn directed her attention to me. "I'm going to call this in and get the EMTs on their way. Keep an eye on him."

  "Got it." I thought about offering Andrew some water, but I wasn't sure if that was the right thing to do. Not knowing if he was in fact poisoned, or what type, it was hard to know if water was a good thing or not. Without any specifics, poison control wouldn't be much help, either. Instead, I just did as Autumn said and kept watch.

  Adele suddenly appeared. "For almost being a doctor, he sure is an idiot." That might be the first thing I had ever heard Adele say that I could agree with.

  "Yep, that he is," I slipped up and replied aloud.

  "What?" Andrew asked, looking up at me.

  "Hmmm?" I replied to him.

  "What did you say?" Andrew asked.

  "Me? Oh, nothing. Sorry. You feeling okay?"

  Andrew glared at me and I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Should I remind him that he was the one who ate the tart? Next time someone looked at me like I was nuts, I was going to tell them to meet the rest of the London family. Andrew's behavior seemed completely unhinged. If I was Autumn, I'd be suspicious too.

  Waiting for the EMTs to arrive were the longest five minutes of my life. I was more than grateful to take a step back once they were on the scene. However, I wasn't sure what to do after the ambulance took Andrew away and Autumn was busy with the crime scene techs and the coroner. I wanted to leave, but Autumn would have a fit and I could just see Adele harping at me and making sure I stayed so that she was properly handled. Even now I could see her little red orb buzzing over herself and those who worked, cataloging the room. To avoid her lecture, I sat at the bottom of their staircase, watching officials arrive. At that moment, Milo, Adele's big, fluffy brown tabby cat, meowed at top of the stairs. I turned to look at him.

  "Hey, fella, how you doing?"

  Milo responded with a long, drawn-out meow. If a meow could be heartbroken, it was Milo's.

  "It's okay, buddy. Do you want to come here?"

  I expected Milo to completely ignore me or saunter off to another room as cats were quite fond of doing. I should know; my last cat, Smokey, lived to be eighteen years old. I still missed the little fella. But Milo started down the steps toward me. I held out my hand. He headbutted it from a step away and proceeded to rub his nose and mouth on it. I replied by scratching behind his ears. The entire entryway filled with his purrs as Milo came down the last step and climbed onto my lap. I continued to scratch his ears until he settled into place and dozed off, purring the entire time.

  I had to admit, Milo's presence was comforting, if even for a minute. I knew Autumn was going to want to ask me more questions, just as I also knew that, sooner or later, Andrew's father, Charles, would arrive. I was just thankful I didn't have to see Nick's parents. Not like this, not now. Nick's death was still too fresh, even though it had been nearly two years. It would be too much for Marianne, Nick's mom. Just as living up here had been.

  In some respect, I was thankful they had moved out of state. In fact, my mom had a greater chance of running into them in Florida than I had here. The only way they’d run into my dad was if they found themselves in heaven. At least that’s where I assumed my dad was, seeing he had never made an appearance. I had to believe it would do Marianne's heart some good if she would be able to see her son's ghost, but no matter how many times Nick appeared in front of her or pleaded with her to see him, to give her some comfort, she wasn't able to see past her own grief. Marianne had said that she never wanted to see snow again after the accident. Nick's father, Adam, loving his wife, gave up the life he had built up here and left for an early retirement even though he was the younger brother.

  The family consensus seemed to be that Adam was a fool for doing so, and Adele had no problem telling him or anyone else who asked about Nick's parents. Apparently trying to make your wife whole and happy again was nothing to compared to money. I loved my mother-in-law, but I had to admit it was so hard to have her look at me the way she often did, with such sadness in her eyes, as if she was grieving over the life she missed out on when her only son died.

  Nick appeared next to me on the steps and bumped my shoulder, sending a burst of cold air along with it. For once, I didn't mind.

  "New friend?" he asked.

  I smiled my response. I would give anything to share my thoughts with Nick, or ask what he was thinking, but I couldn't risk a conversation with him now. Instead, I sat in silence and wondered what in the world had happened to Adele. She didn't say anything about being poisoned. I suppose it was possible she hadn't known, or could she not remember? Nick had told me that sometimes death was so unexpected that people had a hard time adjusting to it or even remembering their deaths. In fact, some of the ghosts walking around just needed to be told they were in fact dead, and once they faced their new reality, they could accept it and move on up (or down, I suppose).

  On the front entry table sat a couple brochures. From my position on the stairs, I assumed they were various furniture catalogs until I read the cover of one and saw that they were real estate catalogs. High-end, luxury real estate, of course. Had Adele been thinking of moving? I would have to ask her. London Manor would be sure to fetch a pretty penny, what with its grand home, acres of land, and stunning views. It was way out of my price point. I thought of the little apartment above the bakery. Nick and I had been saving to buy a place outside of town, in the country a bit, maybe with bay views, but I'd been dipping more and more into our savings lately to pay the bakery's bills. I was going to have to do something sooner or later, like hire a real pastry chef who still knew how to bake. It was a sad reality.

  Eventually Adele's body was bagged up. I turned my head to avoid the scene. There was a reason I baked for a living, even if I sucked at it lately. Adele's orb followed the body outside.

  "I'm going with her," Nick said to me. That was probably a good idea. I nodded and watched him magically turn into his own orb and float after her.

  Autumn joined me a few minutes later.

  "Whose cat?" she asked, pointing to Milo. He opened one eye as if he knew we were talking about him.

  "This is Milo. He was Adele's."

  "Looks like he's yours now," Autumn replied.

  Milo rolled over onto his back and stretched. All four striped legs pushed high into the air. His head hung off my knees. If a person tried the same move, they'd fall down the stairs and crack their head on the floor, but cats had impressive balance ... and flexibility.

  "Do you really think she was poisoned?" I asked, bringing our conversation to the topic at hand.

  "You know I can't tell you what I really think," Autumn replied.

  "But you don't think it was natural causes, do you?"

  Autumn leaned against the stairway banister. "No. No, I don't. And don't ask me anything else, because you're not going get it."

  "No, I won't. I just wish it wasn't so," I said honestly. I went back to scratching Milo's ears.

  "You and me both, but I have to read the cards as I see them."

  "Trust me, I know you do. I wouldn't expect anything else."

  "Good. Now is there anything else you want to tell me?"

  I was about to ask her if she had heard from our mom in the last day or so, but Autumn was still in deputy mode. Of course I knew what she meant by the question. Was there any information I was withholding from her? Yes, there was, but I knew there was no point in telling her that Adele's ghost was popping in and out of my bakery all day today and she was the one who dragged me over here. She wouldn't believe that.

  Then I remembered Margaret. "Oh wait, there is something. I ran into Margaret this morning. Adele's housekeeper?"

  Autumn nodded.

  "She was packing up to leave town and stay with her daughter for a bit. Her daughter's pregnant with twins and already has kids. Anyway, you'll probably want to talk to her. She said she quit yesterday, and Adel
e wasn't too happy about it."

  "Really. Hmmm ... okay. Anything else?" Autumn took out a notebook and jotted some information down.

  I tried to think if there was any more that I could tell her and that she'd believe. "I don't think so. I mean, Andrew was acting a bit odd, wasn't he?" At the mention of Andrew's name, Milo meowed loudly. He obviously agreed.

  So did Autumn.

  "What happened when you showed up?" she asked. I walked Autumn through how I knocked on the door, and Andrew answered and told me where Adele should be and led me into the room.

  "Was he surprised to find her on the floor?"

  I thought back to Andrew's response. "I think so. I mean, he rushed right over and tried to help her, but after that, I don't know, he just seemed weird. I thought it was shock, but then he seemed to be pretty angry. What do you think is up with that?"

  "I'm not sure to be honest, but you can believe I'm going to follow up on it."

  "Do you need anything from me, or can I go?" I asked.

  "No, go ahead. I know where to find you if I need you."

  I stood with Milo in my arms and wondered if I really was taking the cat with me when Andrew's father, Charles, walked through the door.

  "What in the world is going on here?"

  He seemed more confused than angry as he struggled to make sense of what had happened.

  "Where's Andrew? Where's my mother? Whose cat is that?" Charles asked, looking to me for answers.

  I stared back at him, unsure what to say. If Andrew was in the anger stage of grief, then Charles was most definitely stuck in denial.

  Thankfully, Autumn took charge of the situation. "The county coroner has your mother. As Andrew told you, she has passed away. You should be able to see her later today. Andrew wasn't feeling well, and he requested an ambulance to take him to Munson Hospital."

  "What do you mean he wasn't feeling well? I just talked to him a little bit ago."

  "Well, Mr. London, there's a chance that your mother was poisoned, and Andrew, hoping to discredit that theory, decided to eat some of the dessert that we believe Adele had been eating when she passed away. Unfortunately, those desserts did not agree with him and he was taken to the hospital for further assessment."

  Charles grew visibly upset, and I couldn't blame him. The whole situation must be shocking for not only a son but also a father.

  "The cat was Adele's, but I can take him if that's okay," I added.

  "What? Yeah, that's fine. He's all yours. I hate cats." Charles shot Milo a look that said as much. I felt the need to clutch Milo to my chest at the insult and tried not to glare back at Charles. I had to remind myself that he was in shock.

  Charles rubbed his palm down his face as if in weary thought.

  "Mr. London, if I were you, I would head to the hospital and see how Andrew is doing. Then you can call the coroner’s office this afternoon and arrange to see your mother. I'll go ahead and let them know you'll be in touch."

  "Yes, okay. You're right."

  "Would you like me to give you a ride? I'm headed out right now," I offered.

  "No, that's okay. I'm just trying to remember where Becky is. What day is it?" Charles thought for a moment. "Never mind, I'll just keep trying her cell phone."

  "Tell the family to let me know if you guys need anything," I said.

  For a second there, I worried that Charles would take me up on it, like ask me to call my father-in-law and break the news to him, but thankfully he didn't. The two of us walked down the driveway and got into our separate vehicles. Milo happily sat on the passenger seat as if he rode in my car every day. I was more than thankful for that, as I didn't have a pet carrier or leash with me. It could've been a real fiasco. We followed Charles down the curvy driveway back onto M-22. He kept going when I stopped to parallel park in front of the bakery.

  I was weary down to my bones, and it was only two o'clock in the afternoon. I peered into the bakery's front window from my car and saw Ellen was just closing up for the afternoon. We used to stay open until six o'clock, but we'd started cutting the hours back earlier and earlier. Eventually I wasn't sure we'd be open at all. Truth be told, since the accident two years ago, I had lost my magic touch when it came to baking, and my customers noticed. My heart just wasn't into it. Even with my ghostly husband's frequent pop-ups, I just couldn't muster the love for my bakery that once came so naturally.

  "How about we grab some lunch instead?" I asked Milo, turning my head away from the bakery.

  He replied with a hearty meow. I took that as a yes and weaved back onto the highway and drove further down the coast to East Bay Market.

  4

  As I drove, I thought about how disturbing the day had been. I had had enough of death and drama, and Adele had only been dead twenty-four hours. To think she had been murdered, well, that thought just kept my head spinning.

  East Bay Market was known for its impressive gourmet deli and take-out fish dinners. The fish were fresh right out of the Great Lakes and fried to golden perfection, served with chips and a wedge of lemon. As a lunch choice, it was a no-brainer, especially seeing I didn't have provisions at home for a cat. However, before I ran off and went kitty crazy, I'd need to check in with Adele. For all I knew, she had left him a guardian in her will. That seemed like something Adele would do, given how much she loved her kitty.

  The market was located about twenty minutes away from Bleu Clair Bay in Traverse City. The once quiet northern Michigan town had blown up in recent years, courtesy of the dozens of wineries that had been built during the last decade. Vineyards could thank Lake Michigan's protection, long-summer days, and the location on the 45th Parallel (lining us up with the most prestigious wine regions in Europe, like Bordeaux and Piedmont) for their success. It was the same reason the region was the cherry capital of the world, which was marked each July with the National Cherry Festival. But it would be a long, snowy winter before we celebrated summer once more.

  The closer I got to town, the more stop and go the traffic became. Welcome to weekends in the fall. It was the last weekend in October, and I had to remind myself that things would be settling down soon. Well, for a couple of weeks. Tourists would be skiing, ice fishing, and snowmobiling before we knew it. I shivered just thinking about it.

  We could've grabbed lunch at The Lot, home to a dozen or so food trucks, but that would mean driving down State Street and that wasn't happening. Downtown on a Friday afternoon would be nuts. I stuck to the main drag and drove along the waterfront, passing hotel after hotel. The area had everything from chain lodgings, boutique B&Bs, luxury condos, and even camping. Traverse City knew how to cater to everyone. With the hotels on the waterfront, the other side of the street was reserved for everything else—restaurants, grocery stores, gas stations—you name it. My beloved market was one of them.

  I pulled into the market's shared parking lot and looked for a spot. No surprise, they were hard to come by. I ended up parking in front of the neighboring yoga studio instead. It was either that or the tourist souvenir shop.

  Milo put his paws on the center console and was ready to walk across and come out until I told him to stay put. "Stay in the car, okay, buddy? I'll be right back."

  Milo made an awful meow at the prospect of being left alone. It seriously broke my heart. I looked around, unsure what to do. Milo cried again.

  "Okay, come with me. I'll zip you up in my fleece, and we'll run in real quick." I picked up the purring fluff ball and tucked him to my chest. Milo happily curled up to me while I zipped him in place. In that instant, I had the crazy idea of getting a baby carrier. It would make carrying Milo around much easier, if not also cement my place as the village fruit loop. I shook the thought free.

  Milo and I headed to the market when I spotted someone I knew. I wasn't the only one.

  "Hi, Becky,” said a woman with a rather nasally voice. The brunette had short choppy hair and was decked out in perfectly coordinated workout attire—tight, black yoga pants, a str
etchy pink T-shirt, black and pink tennis shoes, and a matching smart watch wristband. She gave a little flutter of her fingers as a wave at Becky, the same woman Charles had been trying to reach. She had been leaving the studio when Lorraine arrived.

  "Afternoon, Lorraine," Becky replied dryly. She shot the woman a smile that was just as insincere as the one she had received. Lorraine opened the other studio door without a glance behind her.

  "Becky!" I shouted out to her. She turned her attention my way, flicking her long, blonde locks over her shoulder.

  "Claire, is that you? Why, it's been ages."

  "Was that Lorraine Adams? Isn’t she your best friend?” Last I knew she was, but their cold reception had me doubting that now.

  "Was. Once I lost the last ten pounds, well, let's just say she could no longer keep up. I mean, did you see the way her butt looked in those pants? She's obviously in denial."

  "If you ask me, Becky didn't get that slim without a little medical intervention, if you know what I'm saying." It took everything not to scream at Adele's sudden reappearance. Apparently, all had gone well with the coroner.

  I cleared my throat, hoping Adele would take the hint and quiet down.

  "Is that a cat? Why in the world do you have a cat in your coat?" Becky asked. Sensing the hostility, Milo ducked his head further inside. "Seriously, don't come any closer. I am deathly allergic to cats. Deathly, I tell you."

  I doubted Becky was truly deathly allergic to pet dander, but I didn't come any closer regardless.

  "That's close enough." Becky held out her arm for me to keep my distance. "The little fur bags," she said under her breath, examining her clothes as if cat hair was clinging to her.

  "Listen, I just came from Adele's house. Andrew and I found her dead this morning. Charles has been trying to reach you."

  Becky immediately stopped picking at her clothes. "Adele's dead? Are you freaking kidding me?" The woman's eyes lit up like fireworks on the Fourth of July. "That's the best news I've heard all day."