Killer Caramel Cookies: Book 1 in the Killer Cookie Series Page 4

  Just as her friend had said, the owner of the hair salon had a booth set up in front of her building. She was giving out free samples, coupons, and was even offering a drawing for a free shampoo and cut. Lilah waited for Gwen to finish speaking to another woman before walking up to the booth.

  “Lilah,” Gwen said, giving her a wary look. She didn’t seem angry, so much as tired. “I’m sorry, but I can’t give you your job back.”

  “I’m not here for that,” she assured the older woman. “I came to tell you how sorry I am. I feel terrible.”

  She looked down, dejected. How could she have been so stupid? How could she have failed to notice that it was hair dye instead of conditioner?

  “Thank you for apologizing,” Gwen said after a minute of horrible silence. “I’m sorry I got so upset. What happened to Ellen’s hair was just the last straw for me, I guess.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Ever since that salon opened up at the mall in Bricksberg, business has been slowing down. If Ellen follows through with what she threatened and sues me, that would be the end of my salon. Though if she keeps up with spreading nasty rumors about my place, I might as well just shut my doors, even if she doesn’t sue.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Lilah said again, feeling even worse.

  “I know you didn’t mean to do anything wrong,” Gwen said. “Don’t beat yourself up. We all make mistakes. I just hope this isn’t the end of my salon.”

  Though she was glad that she had apologized, it hadn’t exactly made Lilah feel much better. She was still dragging her feet when she came up to Margie’s stand. Looking at the beautiful array of cookies before her only made her feel worse as it brought back memories of her own failed attempt at baking. Couldn’t she do anything right?

  “Hi,” she said dejectedly.

  “Lilah!” Her friend exclaimed. “I’m so glad to see you. Look, almost half of your pumpkin caramel cheesecake cookies are gone already. People love them.”

  This made her brighten slightly. “Really? Wow, that’s great, Margie.”

  “I’d love it if you came over and helped me out again sometime,” the older woman said. “I bet you have even more great ideas. You’re so much more creative than I am.”

  “I don’t know about that…”

  She told Margie about her failed batch of cookies, and to her surprise, her friend laughed.

  “See? Much more creative. You tried to come up with your very own cookie recipe. All I do is follow old recipes.”

  “But I didn’t see you looking at any recipes.”

  Margie tapped her temple with one finger. “I memorized them a long time ago. I think you’ve got the makings of a great baker, with some more practice. Let me know when you’re ready to try again.”

  “Okay,” Lilah said, brightening a bit. “Say, do you need any help with the cookie stand?” Helping Margie would take her mind off of other things, and she’d get to pick her friends brain more about cookies.

  “Sure, another person to help count money and bag cookies would be nice,” her friend said. “Come on back, and put on a pair of gloves. Grab a cookie to tide yourself over too, if you want.”

  She spent the next hour helping Margie sell cookies, and discovered that she loved talking to the customers. When one of them came back for seconds, or thirds, especially of the pumpkin cookies that she had come up with, it made her swell with happiness. What could be better than putting a smile on people’s faces?

  Lilah was in the middle of putting two pumpkin cookie cups and a butterscotch chip cookie in a bag for a middle aged man and his two daughters when she saw the first hints that something had gone wrong. A police car pulled slowly down the middle of the street, lights flashing. It parked in front of the town hall, not far from where Margie’s cookie booth was set up, and an officer got out of the vehicle and went inside. A couple of minutes later, loudspeakers usually only used for emergency announcements crackled to life.

  “Attention festival goers,” a man’s voice said, slightly distorted from the old speakers. “There has been a fatality. The festival will be closing down early. Law enforcement has requested that Main Street be cleared. Vendors, please pack up your booths in an orderly fashion and clear the street as quickly as possible. Thank you.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The second the loudspeakers crackled into silence, sound erupted on the street. People began talking, immediately asking everyone around them who had died. Phones were pulled out, as they called their loved ones to make sure they were okay. Lilah saw Marie at a booth across the street where she was selling coffee lower her cell phone with a shocked look on her face. She whispered something to her son, who was helping her, and he dropped the cup of coffee, not seeming to notice as the steaming liquid drenched his pants. Lilah got a sick feeling in her stomach even before Marie spoke.

  “It was Ellen,” she said, her voice raised enough to be heard across the street. The people around her fell quiet, and she spoke again. “Ellen is dead. Beth found her in the back room of the store.”

  They all knew that she was talking about the country store that she worked at. Main Street was almost silent as people took this in, then the volume began to rise again as people began asking what had happened. It seemed that Marie didn’t have any information, though. In fact, she seemed pale. Lilah watched as she sat down heavily in her folding chair. Greg was still staring blankly into space, coffee dripping from his clothes.

  Eventually more police cars showed up and the officers began to get the vendors and festival goers moving. They needed room to work without running anyone over, so Main Street had to be cleared. It seemed to take forever for people to pack up, but one by one the booths and displays were taken down and people started leaving. Lilah helped Margie pack up, and was about to accept the older woman’s offer of a ride home when Val tugged at her sleeve.

  “I’ve been looking all over for you,” her friend said. “I just overheard Randall say he was going to open up the diner so people would have a place to talk. I’m going. Do you want to come with me?”

  “All right,” Lilah said. “I’ll see you later, Margie.” She waved goodbye to her neighbor, then followed Val back towards the diner.

  “What do you think happened?” she asked.

  “No idea,” her friend said. “Maybe she slipped on something, and hit her head. Or maybe someone finally got fed up with her attitude and decided to teach her a lesson, only they went a little too far.”

  Lilah shuddered. “You don’t really think that someone could have killed her, do you? I mean, it had to be an accident.”

  “I don’t know. She wasn’t ever very popular here,” Val told her. “What sort of accident could she have had in the store? What was she even doing there, anyway? It was supposed to be closed for the festival.”

  “Maybe she somehow got locked in, and hurt herself trying to get out?”

  Her friend shook her head. “I saw her helping Marie and Greg set up the coffee booth not too long ago. Whatever happened, happened recently.”

  No one at the diner seemed to have any answers either. The little restaurant was busier than Lilah had ever seen it before, and she was relieved when Randall didn’t ask her to pick up a shift right then and there. Instead, she and Val got a pair of raspberry iced teas and sat in a booth with a couple of women that Val knew.

  They tossed ideas back and forth, but no one had any real answers until Kristie, the young woman whom Lilah had been replacing at the salon, came in. One of the women at their table waved her over.

  “Sit down, sweetie. What do you want to drink?”

  “I’ll just have a water, Aunt Diane. Thanks,” she said, squeezing into the booth next to Lilah.

  Diane got up to fetch a glass of ice water from Randall at the counter and came back to hand it to the pregnant woman. She waited until her niece had taken a sip, then spoke up.

  “Are you all right, Kristie? You seem upset.”

  Lilah took a cl
oser look at the girl next to her. She was pale, and the hand that was holding the glass of water was shaking.

  “My friend Beth — Beth Preacher, you’ve met her, Aunt Diane — was the one that found the body,” she said. She put the cup of water down and stared at it. “I just got off the phone with her. She’s really freaked out.”

  All of the women at the table leaned in to look at the young woman.

  “You spoke to her?” Val asked. “Maybe you can settle something for us, then. Was she murdered, or did she die in an accident?”

  “She was murdered,” the pregnant woman told them. “Beth said it looked like she had been hit on the head, and then stuffed into the back room. The police asked her not to give out any details, so I don’t really know if I should be saying anything or not. I guess it was really bad, though.”

  Lilah felt cold. Ellen had been killed, and somehow that fact was made so much worse by the knowledge that she had died with that horrible hairdo. Every unkind thing she had thought about the woman seemed especially cruel now. No matter how horrible Ellen had been to her and others, she definitely hadn’t deserved to die. She blinked and realized belatedly that the conversation had gone on without her.

  “Who did it, though?” Val was asking. The women all looked expectantly towards Kristie, who shrugged.

  “No idea.”

  “It could be anyone,” Diane said. “She wasn’t exactly popular around here, contrary to what she seemed to think.”

  “Wait, do you think it’s someone from town?” Lilah asked. “Someone we know?”

  “Could be.”

  At that moment the door to the diner opened again and a police officer walked in. The women watched as he walked up to the counter and spoke to Randall, who in turn pointed across the room, directly at Lilah.

  “Ms. Fallon, do you have a moment?” the officer asked, walking over to their table.

  “Um… I suppose?” It came out as a question. She glanced over at Val, who was watching with a concerned look on her face. No help there.

  “Can you come with me?”

  Kristie stood up so Lilah could slide out of the booth. She followed the officer towards the door, her heart pounding. What on earth did he want?

  CHAPTER NINE

  “What is this about?” she asked after the door to the diner swung shut behind them.

  “I’m Officer Eldridge with the Vista Police Department,” he said. “I need to ask you some questions about your recent confrontation with Ellen Hawning.”

  “You mean the salon?” she asked. He nodded. “What do you need to know?”

  “How did you know Ms. Hawning?”

  “I didn’t. That was the first time I had ever seen her.”

  He frowned. “What motivation did you have for putting the dye in her hair?”

  Lilah stared at him. Did everyone in town know about that by now? Probably, considering how small the town was and how its residents loved to gossip. “I didn’t have any motivation for it. It was an accident.” She could tell from the skeptical look in his eye that he didn’t believe her.

  “Is it true that Ms. Hawning got you fired from your job at the salon?”

  “Yes. Well, no. I mean, I got fired because I messed up,” she said, feeling flustered. “I wouldn’t say she got me fired.”

  “Where were you today between the hours of twelve and three?”

  “At the diner, and then walking around the festival.”

  “Do you have anyone who can verify that?”

  She did. Randall, Val, Gwen, and Margie had all seen her during those times. She gave him the numbers of the three women, then decided to ask a question of her own.

  “Officer, am I a suspect?”

  “Not as such. This is just a preliminary investigation.”

  She nodded, trying and failing to find comfort in his words. At least she had four people who would verify her alibi. Did he really think she had done it? If anything, Ellen had been the murderous one after the hair incident, considering how furious she had been. All Lilah wanted to do was forget about it and move on.

  “Thank you for your time, Ms. Fallon,” Eldridge said at last. “I may be in touch.”

  She nodded, and watched as he walked back inside the diner. It was with some relief that she saw him ask another person to come with him; it meant that she wasn’t the only one that he was questioning today. Val turned in her seat and waved at her, urging her to come back inside, but Lilah shook her head. She wanted to get home, take a bath, and try her best to forget about everything that had happened in the past week.

  She almost made it home, but just as she was walking past Margie’s house, someone called out her name. Looking up, she saw Reid on her friend’s porch. It looked like he was in the middle of fixing one of the steps. Lilah vaguely remembered her friend saying that one of the boards was rotted; it must have finally broke. She was glad that Reid was able to help the older woman so much, even though it meant that it was harder for her to avoid him. Reid had grown up in the home next to Margie’s, the very house that Lilah was living in now, and Margie seemed to view him as the son that she had never had.

  Raising her hand in a half-hearted wave, Lilah returned his greeting, then continued trudging towards her house. She only made it a couple of steps before she heard Margie’s screen door open, and her friend stepped outside.

  “Lilah, I thought I heard Reid say your name. Would you like to come in for a few minutes? I can whip up some sandwiches for us, and I’ll pack up the rest of those pumpkin cookie cups for you to take home.”

  Lilah hesitated for a moment, but the tempting promise of free food was too much for her to resist. She walked up to the porch, accepting Reid’s hand as he helped her over the broken step, and followed Margie into the kitchen. The sight of the half-full trays of cookies on the counter made her sad. Her friend had worked so hard to make all of them, and now wouldn’t get a chance to sell most of them.

  “Go on, sit down. I’ll make us sandwiches. Rye or whole wheat?”

  “Um, rye. But you don’t have to make them, I can do it,” she said, not wanting to take advantage of the older woman.

  “Nonsense. You look exhausted. You’ve had a rough couple of days. Pour us drinks, if you must do something, then take a seat.”

  She did as she was told, pouring them each a glass of lemonade and then settling herself at the table. In no time at all, Margie set the most delicious looking sandwich she had ever seen in front of her. Melted Swiss, corned beef, and sauerkraut on toasted rye with just a dash of steak sauce. She realized just how hungry she was, having had nothing to eat but cookies since breakfast. The savory sandwich hit the spot, and was gone in just a couple of bites.

  “Do you want another?” Margie asked.

  “No, thanks.” Lilah fell silent, gazing out the window. It was a sunny day, at odds with her mood, which was grey.

  “What’s wrong, Lilah? You know I’m here if you need to talk.”

  She did need to talk. Suddenly everything that had happened welled up inside of her, and she started sharing her fears and concerns with her friend. She felt better when she was done, though one thing was still nagging at her.

  “Now Officer Eldridge thinks I might have killed Ellen. I’m so worried. I don’t want to go to jail. I would never hurt anyone, not on purpose.”

  “I don’t think you need to be concerned,” Margie said gently. “Anyone who knows you would be able to tell him that you’d never do anything like that. He’s probably following up on every lead he gets. I wouldn’t take it personally.”

  “I hope so…” Lilah let out a long, slow breath. “I do feel better after talking. Thanks, Margie. And thanks for the sandwich.”

  “Not a problem, dear. You’re always welcome here. Now, let me get some of those cookies for you. There’s no way I’m going to eat them all, and I’d hate to see them go to waste.”

  A few minutes later, carrying a gallon zip lock bag with more cookies inside than she would ever
be able to eat, Lilah finally walked through the door to her own house. She felt tired, but happier. She decided that Margie was right; there was no way she could be implicated in the murder. Ellen’s death was sad, but it had nothing to do with her.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Lilah had just gotten into the bath when her phone rang. She glared at it, but it kept on making its cheery little tune, so with a sigh she put down her glass of wine and reached across the small room to grab it from the counter by the sink. Caller ID told her it was Val.