Death at the Day Lily Cafe (5 page)

His jeans were snug around his slender frame and he was wearing his new Barclay Meadow T-shirt. “You look nice today.”

Tyler didn't respond. When he finally looked at me, he said, “We're down a few eggs. This hawk situation is having some consequences.”

“Is there anything we can do?”

“I'm new at this.” He gripped the barrel of the rifle with both hands. “I'm realizing something, now that you've got the café. I never thought I'd say this, but I need some help around here.”

Our eyes met. “Of course,” I said. “Whatever you need.”

“Thank you.” He stepped closer. He was inches from my face. He smelled clean and fresh, like a sheet dried in the sun. He lifted his hand. “You got a little toothpaste on your chin,” he said, and wiped it away with his thumb.

*   *   *

The Day Lily was quiet, reminding me of a still-life oil painting. Shafts of light warmed the wood floors. Everything was neatly stored and stacked, ready for a new day. I looked from table to table, remembering the voices and faces from yesterday.

I unlocked the front door and went out to sweep the steps. I stood on the sidewalk and gazed up at the largest window. Delicate gold letters that read T
HE
D
AY
L
ILY
C
AFÉ
arced on the glass. Beneath, in a smaller font, were the words W
HOLESOME,
L
OCAL,
O
RGANIC
F
ARE
.

The window boxes were filled with herbs so their scents would lure customers inside. Unlike the herbs I grew at the farm, I allowed these to flower. Once an herb has flowered, the leaves taste bitter. But in my window boxes, the chives hosted puffs of purples and the thyme had burst into delicate yellow flowers. As I pinched off the tops of the basil, a peppery anise-like aroma met my nose.

The day was warming up quickly, the air thick with moisture. Cicadas hummed in a nearby tree. I began to sweep but stopped when I noticed Doris headed toward me.

“Morning,” I called to her.

She held out a sheet of paper. “Lori made a list of people who might have had it in for CJ.”

“Oh, good,” I said, and looked down at it. The names had been written by an unsteady hand in a felt pen that had smeared in spots. “Do you know any of these people?”

“A few.” She crossed her arms. “You'll find most of them at the tavern. They're regulars.”

I read through the names. My head shot back up. “Sheriff Wilgus?”

She stared down at the papers. “I don't know why she wrote his name down. Joe may be a pill, but he isn't about to go killing someone, no matter how mad he gets.”

“So I wonder why she put his name on the list.”

Doris shrugged her shoulders. “He's always hated CJ, but that goes way back. And maybe Lori is mad at him for keeping her at the jail so long.” Doris sunk her hands into the pockets of her cotton dress.

“I'll do some Googling as soon as I get a chance. Would you like some coffee? I can put it in a to-go cup again.”

“No thanks. I've been away from the store enough lately. And you can't make money if you aren't there to take it. But thank you just the same.” She shielded her eyes and gazed up at the window. “I knew this café was what you were meant to do.” She looked back at me. “If you don't mind me saying so, I think I knew it before you did.”

I laughed. “I don't think, I
know
it. And thank you. I am very happy doing what I love.”

“Miss Rosalie, Lori and I are going to try and scrape some money together for you. We talked about it yesterday.”

“Oh, Doris, my goodness gracious. I would no sooner take your money than jump off the Bay Bridge.” I placed my hand over my stomach. “Just saying that makes me woozy. But listen, I don't even know if I can help you, but I'm going to try. My reward will be knowing your sister is safe.” I gave her a warm smile. “I appreciate the opportunity to return the favor. I've felt indebted to you for quite some time.”

She hesitated. “All right. At least for now.”

Glenn strolled down the sidewalk. “Well, if it isn't the two loveliest ladies I've seen today.”

Doris rolled her eyes. “We're probably the only ladies you've seen today, and you know it.”

Glenn chuckled. “How is your sister holding up, Doris?”

“Better now that we have Rosalie on the team.”

Glenn smiled. “And as I told Rosalie yesterday, if you want me to add my two cents, I'd be happy to help.”

I was surprised to see tears welling in Doris's eyes. “This town is a better place now that you two are in it.” She turned quickly and started down the sidewalk. She shook her head as she walked. “I swear,” she muttered, “it's like the world has turned upside down.”

 

N
INE

Crystal was seated at the bar, dipping a tea bag in and out of a cup.

“Good morning, sunshine,” I said.

Glenn whistled softly as he began setting water glasses on each table.

“Hey,” Crystal said. She was hunched over her cup, elbows on the bar.

I rubbed her back. “Did yesterday wear you out?”

“Let's just say waking up isn't the easiest thing I do each day.”

I noticed a face at the door and hurried over to let Kevin, my pastry maker, into the café. He carried a large, white cardboard box in his hands as proudly as if it were a coronation crown.

“Special delivery,” he sang as he headed for the bar. “Hey, Crys. Hard night?”

“Do I look that bad? I'm just waiting for the caffeine to kick in. It's a process, and it takes a little time.”

“You look gorgeous, as always. And I'm digging this.” He pointed at the tattoo behind her ear. “What's it mean?”

“It's a Celtic shield,” she said. “For protection.”

“Sweet,” Kevin said.

Crystal smiled. A compliment from Kevin would brighten anyone's day. He had excellent taste and always stepped out in crisp, pressed clothing. Today he wore a pink oxford, its sleeves rolled up to his elbows; a spotless pair of white pants; and a pastel plaid belt. Designer sunglasses dangled from a leather loop around his neck.

Kevin was in a relationship with Jake, a professor at John Adams College, the school located in the heart of Cardigan. Kevin had several occupations, running an interior design business and making confections being just two. A lot of people in Cardigan did the same. There was only so much money to be made and only so many people to do the work that needed to be done.

“What did you bring me today?” I peered into the box.

“Definitely more espresso bars. They sure went fast.”

“Janice is going through perimenopause.”

“J J? The poor dear.” He placed his palm on his chest. “I'll bring more if I get some time. And is our lovely sheriff still crushing on the scones?”

“Two a day.”

“He's going to get chubby.” Kevin opened my pastry case and began stacking the treats. “Oh, say, Crys, how's my aura today?” He straightened his spine and turned to face her. “I've got a meeting with the building committee at the college. I'm putting in a bid to do the interior design of the new dorms.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Good. It's a bright royal blue.”

“And that means?” Kevin waited expectantly.

“Opportunities are coming.”

“Yay!” Kevin clapped. “Blue is my favorite color.”

“Morning, Kevin,” Glenn said. “I'm going to do my best to stay away from those brownies.”

“I don't know how any of you do it, working here. All this delicious food, unlimited coffee, and those muffins. I'd be spinning in circles like I just had an IV of Red Bull.”

Glenn shook his head. “It isn't easy.”

“Okay,” Crystal said as she stood. “There it is. Caffeine jolt. My eyes are open wider already.”

“Good,” Glenn said. “Let's start the day. Egg bake is our special. Do you have the description handy?”

“Menu insert,” I said, picking up a stack of small cards. I read the top one. “Egg bakes. Roasted veggies, black olives, fresh mozzarella, and tomato sauce in a ramekin, with a baked egg on top. It's served with a slice of honeydew topped with basil-infused cream and a small arugula salad with shaved parmesan and a lemon olive oil dressing.” I looked up. “Crystal, could you write the special on the chalkboard? You have such beautiful handwriting.”

“All of that?” she said with a bewildered look on her face.

“Just write
roasted vegetable egg bake
and add the sides.”

“I'm drooling,” Kevin said as he folded up the empty box.

“We should all get together sometime, Kevin.” I poured him a to-go cup of coffee and slipped it into a cardboard sleeve.

“I like the sound of that,” Glenn said. “Not to invite myself, of course.”

“Yes, we should definitely do that.” Kevin picked up his cup.

“Good luck with your meeting,” I said.

“Okay, toodle-loo, everyone.” Kevin waved as he walked toward the door.

“Say,” Glenn said, “is Custer here?”

I looked over at him. “I certainly hope so. He had a late night.”

“How do you know that?”

“He was hanging out with Annie.”

Glenn eyed me over the top of his glasses. “That worries you, doesn't it?”

“I'm not sure. Do you think it should?”

“He's doing a fabulous job so far. You've given him a chance working here. I admire you for that.”

I crossed my arms. “But, Glenn, it's my Annie.”

“All right, mother hen.” Glenn smiled. “You go on and worry. I won't try to stop you.”

“We have a customer,” Crystal called from the chalkboard. Glenn turned toward the door and stopped abruptly. Gretchen, dressed in a breezy floral dress, waited patiently on the stoop.

I nudged Glenn. “It's the woman from yesterday. Gretchen, right?”

“It is.” He crossed his arms. “We agreed. No free muffins today.”

“That's correct. Nothing is free except coffee refills. Glenn, she seems very pleasant. Do you think she came back to see you?”

“I'm not on the menu,” Glenn said as he continued toward the door.

*   *   *

I found Custer slicing the honeydew. A tray of egg bakes sat prepared and ready for the oven.

“Ciao,” he said without looking up.

“Everything all right?”

“Always.”

“Did you have fun last night?”

He looked up and narrowed those gemstone eyes. “You know, boss, I think it's better if I keep my private life exactly that.”

“Exactly what?”

“Private.”

“Oh.” I felt flustered. Was he right? But he was with my Annie. He continued to gaze at me. “Okay,” I said. “I will try to respect that. But it's an awfully small town. And families don't come any tinier than mine.”

“And I will respect that.”

I picked up the bowl of thickened cream and began scooping small dollops onto the honeydew. “Do you come from a big family, Custer?”

“Plenty big.”

“And Tyler is your uncle on your father's side?”

“Yes. Why are you so interested?”

“Just curious. Doris said something about fathers yesterday and I've been thinking about mine. I used to drive him crazy. He thought I talked too much.” I set the honeydew slices on a tray. “Hard to believe, right? Anyway, after supper he would go out on the front porch and smoke a pipe. He would sit still, just listening to the crickets chirp. The only movement was the whir of the ceiling fan to keep the mosquitos away.” I stared off, remembering the scent of pipe smoke, the glow when he puffed on the stem. “I would sit with him on the swing every chance I got. I would tell him made-up stories about animals and ogres, and when I ran out of things to say I'd push the swing with my sneaker. Now I think about those memories and wonder if all I was doing was disrupting his solitude.”

Custer stopped slicing and looked up at me, his eyebrows dipped together. “So we're talking here, is that it?”

I hesitated, trying to understand his meaning. “Yes. At least, I hope so.”

“First of all, I don't want to think about my father.” He pointed the knife at me as he spoke. “He's not worth the time. But I will tell you a little of what I think about family. You see, kids are a barometer for what's really going on. When they feel something isn't right, they act out. Some kids get into trouble, like starting a fight with a sibling. Others, well, maybe they start chattering like you did, you know, as a distraction from the real trouble.”

“Trouble?” I cocked my head. “I never thought of it that way.”

“And some kids…” His eyes darkened. “They might pick fights with one parent so he leaves the other parent alone.”

“Okay.” I nodded. “I understand.” I brushed my hair back from my face. “Custer? Is your father's name Butch?”

“It is.” Custer's knuckles whitened around the knife handle. “And that's all you need to know about him.”

 

T
EN

Not long after the doors opened, the café was bustling. Glenn and Crystal had learned a lot yesterday and now moved about the room like Fred and Ginger. Custer had established a routine of his own, and the food was coming out of the kitchen in a timely fashion. I was busy making espressos when Glenn sidled up to me. “You have a customer.” I peeked around him and there was Sheriff Wilgus seated at the bar.

“Sheriff,” I said.

“Hart.” The sheriff's uniform was open at the collar. He placed his felt hat gingerly on the counter. “Get to work on time yesterday?” He watched as I poured coffee into a to-go cup. “I could have given you a ticket.”

“But you didn't.”