Scene of the Brine (25 page)

Piper went over to her shelf and reached for a jar. “That's very thoughtful of you, Tammy,” she said. “It must be hard on all of them.”

Tammy nodded. “On second thought, give me two jars.”

As Piper rang them up, Tammy said, “I'm sure your business will pick up again, now that everyone will know the source of your poisoned preserve.”

“I have seen a couple of regular customers come in who'd stayed away. They might have come to hear more details of what happened yesterday but they left with purchases.”

“See! Didn't I tell you? Things will be back the way they used to be before long.”

Piper hoped so, at least for her shop. But some things would never be the same. Jeremy and Mallory were in for a pretty rough time, for one thing. Dirk Unger wouldn't spring back to life but at least Mrs. Tilley and Frances Billings had survived, though who knew with what possible health repercussions down the road. At their age, recovering from such critical illness didn't come easily, Piper was sure. But Zach was cleared and free to resume his education and things were definitely looking up for Sugar, so several changes were for the better.

Piper smiled, thanked Tammy for her purchases, and decided to be as optimistic as this extraordinary cleaning lady.

. . .

I
t wasn't too much later that Piper got a call from Marguerite Lloyd. Expecting a question concerning Lydia Porter, she instead heard, “Lamb! Is that newsletter out?”

Piper had completely forgotten about the women's club newsletter for which she'd promised to write an article about Marguerite's landscaping business.

“I'm not sure, Marguerite. Can I get back to you on that?”

“I need to know. I can't keep my silky dogwoods on sale forever. You did put in that they're on sale, didn't you?”

Since Piper had turned writing of the article over to Emma, and Emma had been occupied with looking after Mrs. Tilley, Piper had no idea what was or was not in the newsletter.

“Marguerite, things have been pretty busy around here,” she said, aware of her extreme understatement.

“Oh, right. The Porter thing.” Marguerite's tone changed. “So she's the one did in Unger?”

“It definitely appears that way.”

“Slimy thing—Unger, I mean.” Marguerite huffed. “Lydia, too, I suppose. I worked with him, you know, some time ago.”

Piper did know, but she simply said, “Oh?”

“Back in Ohio. Backstabbing snake of a man. I wouldn't have minded bumping him off myself. I should thank Lydia for doing it for me. Why did she, by the way? Did he have something on her?”

“Most likely.” Piper knew what Unger had found out about Lydia—her illegitimate baby—but didn't say so. Nor did she mention how high on the list of suspects Marguerite herself had once been. Instead, she said, “I imagine it will all come out, eventually.”

“Right. Well, let me know about that newsletter as soon as you can.” Marguerite had moved back to what she considered more important things.

Piper promised, then heard the click as Marguerite hung up. Must be nice, Piper thought as she set down the phone, to be so focused and able to easily shut out any and all things that didn't directly affect oneself. She wished Marguerite well—and hoped she'd have little to do with her from then on.

31

A
month had gone by since Lydia Porter's arrest and the news came out that Lydia Porter had pleaded guilty to the murder of Dirk Unger and the attempted murders of Frances Billings and Joan Tilley, thus avoiding a lengthy trial that would be highly stressful for her children. Rumor was she'd gotten a plea bargain.

Aunt Judy, who'd stopped by Piper's Picklings, tsked. “Very sad about Lydia. Of course, she made her own bed.”

“She did,” Piper agreed, “and hurt plenty of people in the process. I don't think she'll be terribly missed.”

“How is Mallory taking it all?” Aunt Judy asked.

“It's been a roller coaster of emotions for her. But overall, I think she's proud of herself for finally standing up for what was right. She's come out of it all with a sense of strength and freedom she's probably never experienced before.”

“Poor thing. To be treated like a twelve-year-old for so long by her mother.” Aunt Judy tsked again and looked about to say more when they suddenly spotted the subject of their conversation heading toward the shop.

“Piper!” Mallory cried as she burst in looking super excited. “I got the job! Jeanine hired me to work in her fabric shop.”

“That's wonderful, Mallory,” Piper said, and Aunt Judy clapped her hands. They both gave Mallory congratulatory hugs. “I know you'll be fantastic at it,” Piper said, stepping back.

Mallory beamed. “You think so? I'm a little scared. I never had a job before. But Aunt Gwen's been walking me through all the things I should know, like getting my own checking account and stuff. I might even get my own apartment! Then I could decorate the whole thing myself.”

“First things first,” Aunt Judy said, laughing. “I'm sure Jeremy wouldn't mind letting you do a little redecorating at his house while you save up your salary.”

“Well . . .” Mallory's lips curved upward in a kind of secretive smile. “Maybe, but I should probably leave that up to . . .” She stopped.

“Up to who?” Aunt Judy asked.

“I'm not sure I should say yet,” Mallory said, still smiling oddly.

Emma Leahy had walked in to catch the last of the conversation. “Why not?” she asked. “It's all over town.”

“What is?” Aunt Judy asked.

Amy, who'd been in the back working on a batch of pickled fennel, appeared, wiping her hands on a towel and looking interested as well, always somehow able to keep up with anything going on at the front of the shop, no matter how busy she was.

“So you haven't heard yet?” Emma asked slyly.

“No, Emma!” Aunt Judy cried in good-natured frustration. “Now, will you please tell us!”

Emma looked at Mallory, who nodded, then said, “Jeremy and Tammy Butterworth have run off and got married.”

“What!”

Emma thoroughly enjoyed the shock on all three faces.

“Is that true, Mallory?” Piper asked.

“Yes!” Mallory cried, bouncing on her toes by then, with a full grin on her face.

“Oh, what a hoot!” Amy cried, throwing her towel toward the ceiling and collapsing on a nearby stool. “Won't Lydia—” She glanced at Mallory and stopped herself from finishing that, saying instead, “That's just terrific!”

“I . . . I'm surprised,” Aunt Judy said. “I didn't realize they . . .”

“I'm surprised, too,” Piper said, “but I think I can understand it. Jeremy likes to be fussed over and Tammy likes to fuss. He'll be well looked after, I guarantee.”

“Yes, but . . .” Aunt Judy was still struggling.

“Jeremy probably felt free to finally make such a decision with his mother not there to interfere,” Emma said. “Don't you think, Mallory?”

“Oh, yes,” Mallory said. “Absolutely.

“Who knows,” Emma added, “how long he might have had leanings in that direction but never dared to act on them. They've known each other for quite a while, from what I understand. Then again, Tammy . . . well . . . never try to understand the ways of the heart,” Emma said, patting Aunt Judy's arm. “Speaking of which,” she turned to Piper, “I happened to see Scott Littleton browsing through the gift shop over on Maple. You don't suppose . . .”

She looked at Piper significantly and Piper felt Aunt Judy's and Amy's eyes turn on her as well. She shrugged, though aware of a growing uneasiness. “Maybe he was picking out a wedding present for Tammy and Jeremy?”

Emma shook her head firmly. “He didn't even know until I told him.”

“Sugar and Ralph?” Aunt Judy asked tentatively.

“Nothing's been announced there,” Piper said, adding, “yet. I imagine they're taking things slowly. But wasn't that a surprise about Ralph's former career?” she asked, more than happy to steer the subject in another direction.

“Absolutely!” both older women cried.

“I can't imagine hiding something like that,” Amy said. “Most people would be bragging about what they'd accomplished.”

“Ralph Strawbridge isn't the bragging type,” Aunt Judy said. “Maybe he wanted people to like him for himself, not for how much money he'd acquired.”

Emma nodded and Piper thought about how much pleasure Ralph clearly got from the praise of his hand-carved door. Surely that meant more than buying an expensive car you didn't need or moving into an oversized mansion. Some people figured things out a lot sooner than others.

She suddenly spotted Scott heading toward her shop, carrying a package.

Apparently Aunt Judy saw him, too. “I just remembered,” she said, grabbing her purse. “I was going to stop at the library for a book. Walk with me, Emma,” she said, turning her friend firmly by the arm toward the door. “You, too, Mallory.”

Amy, picking up on the reason for the others' hasty departure, withdrew to the back room and her pickled fennel, leaving Piper alone to brace herself, unsure exactly what for. But knowing Scott . . .

There was a flurry of greetings outside her shop, as Aunt Judy, Emma, and Mallory met up with Scott. Then the women continued on, Emma looking back a bit longingly as Scott leaned on the door of Piper's Picklings, pushing it open with one shoulder as he clutched his package with both hands. Piper eyed the box nervously.

“Hi, there,” he said as he let the door close behind him.

“Hi. Looks like you've been shopping.” Piper picked up a duster and began flicking it rapidly over her shelved jars.

“I have.” Scott carried his package over to her counter and set it down. “I saw this and couldn't resist.”

Piper set down her duster and stared firmly at him. “No, Scott.”

“No, what?”

“No gifts.”

“But—”

“We agreed, remember? And you promised not to do this anymore.”

There was a long pause, then Scott cleared his throat. “Piper,” he said. “This isn't for you.”

“Oh!” Piper felt her cheeks warm. “Okay. Sorry. Um, who is it for?”

“It's for Sugar.” Scott began untying the string that secured the top. “She's been sending me new clients and I wanted to thank her somehow, some way special. Then I spotted this.” He flipped off the lid and began flinging out wads of tissue paper as Piper watched, catching one or two wads. Scott grasped an object wrapped thickly in Bubble Wrap and carefully pulled it out. He set it on Piper's counter and began peeling away the wrap.

Piper let out a soft
ohhhh
as Scott's gift was gradually revealed: a lovely porcelain statue of a mother and child, the child young but clearly a boy.

Scott looked at Piper, gauging her reaction. “Well?” he asked. “What do you think? Will she like it?”

“She'll love it, Scott.” Piper felt her eyes begin to tear and rapidly blinked them clear. “It's a perfect gift for Sugar. That was very perceptive of you.”

Scott smiled. “There was no missing their love for each other the whole time I worked for those two.”

“Can I see?” Amy's voice called from the back room, and both Piper and Scott grinned.

“Absolutely,” Scott said, and Amy stepped out, her towel slung over one shoulder.

“Nice!” she proclaimed after a careful study of the statue. “
Very
nice.”

Scott smiled, then suddenly looked worried. “Do you think, coming from me, it would become a reminder of a bad time in their lives? I wouldn't want that.”

“I think,” Amy said, “all things considered, it turned out to be a
good
time. Don't you, Piper? I mean, everything worked out, Ralph came into their lives and I've never seen Sugar looking so happy.”

Piper thought that Scott even asking such a question was a sign of how much he had changed from their time back in Albany, when he had focused too much on what was good for
him
. “Sugar is a very positive person,” she said. “She'll certainly treasure this gift as something that was thoughtfully chosen.”

Scott seemed satisfied with that and began rewrapping his statue. Amy helped him pack it back up in the box and then he carefully retied the string. “There!”

“When will you give it to Sugar?” Piper asked.

“I thought instead of just running it over, that it'd be fun to meet for dinner. Sugar and Ralph, me and . . .” He looked meaningfully at Piper, who caught his drift and took a step backward.

“I'd better check on my fennel,” Amy said and quickly disappeared.

Scott was clearly asking Piper to join him for dinner, along with two other people she would certainly enjoy being with. She had dined with Scott when they met Zach at Niki's to get his explanation of the bad incident at school. But she'd thought of that as a working dinner. Would this, considering how hard both she and Scott had worked on Zach's behalf, be so different?

She knew it was. But she also knew Scott had changed during the time he'd been in Cloverdale. She liked the change. He'd become much more concerned about others and she'd been impressed with his caring attitude toward Zach and Sugar, something that showed with this gift. Many of her old feelings for Scott had resurfaced since his move to Cloverdale. Will had been amazingly understanding about that, giving her time to work it all out. But Piper couldn't expect him to wait around forever. It was decision time.

Her shop phone rang.

“I'll get it back here,” Amy called.

“Scott . . .” Piper hated seeing the look on his face, hopeful and, yes, loving. It was hard to bring the words out that she knew she had to say. “Scott,” she said softly, “it's time to move on.” She watched his face fall and felt her own stomach clench. Breaking her engagement months ago to the old Scott had been so much easier.

He swallowed hard, then brought up a shaky smile. “Not what I wanted to hear,” he said. “But . . . okay.”

“I'm sorry.”

He nodded, his smile firmer. “Me, too. But can't blame a guy for trying.” He picked up his box, started to turn, then set the box back down to look hard at her. “Good-bye, Piper.” Piper matched the gaze for several moments, then stepped out from behind her counter. She reached up to give Scott a hug. He held her tight for a moment, then pulled away. “Take care.”

Piper watched him go, knowing she had done the right thing but still feeling a mess of emotions. After the door had closed and she'd watched him disappear from sight, all while drawing many deep breaths, she heard Amy step out from the back room.

“That call was from Will,” Amy said. “I told him you'd get back to him.”

Piper smiled, then, and turned toward Amy. “Amy, that was absolutely the perfect thing to say.”

“Huh?” Amy asked, looking puzzled.

Piper grinned. “Never mind.”

She clapped her hands briskly. “Well! How's that pickled fennel coming? Almost done? Maybe we should put up another batch of pickled carrots. Those are always popular, and business has been picking up. We'll need to have more on hand. Strawberries! I should pick up strawberries for jam. Will loves strawberry jam. Yes! That'll be next, after the carrots. Something really good for Will.”

Piper realized she was babbling and Amy smiled. “I think you've already got something for Will, something good to tell him, that is.”

“I do,” Piper said, returning the smile. “But it'll wait.” Will, after all, had been waiting for several months to hear what she was finally ready to tell him. A few more hours wouldn't hurt. And she wanted it to be in person, not over the phone.

Piper headed back to her pickling station, feeling that her life had just turned a corner, excited, a little anxious, but happy. As she checked her carrots and lined up her canning jars, she began to hum and realized she was grinning widely. For the first time in what seemed like forever, things were looking pretty darned good.

With that thought, she slipped a clean apron over her head, reached for her peeler, and got to work. First things first.