Yule Be Dead Page 4

  “Well, you aren’t. You’re stunning. But if you think you need to get healthier, why don’t you walk the Square with me weekend mornings and when school lets out for winter break? I’ve been neglecting it lately, and you could be the inspiration I need to get back at it.”

  Sasha’s smile was tentative. “Well, I guess I could.”

  “Great. Then I’ll see you Saturday. How about seven o’clock?”

  “Works for me.”

  Sadie reappeared, looking resplendent in the frilly frock. She did a three-sixty turn to show off for her audience.

  “You look terrific,” Katie said, and Sadie blushed.

  “Are you going to buy that?” Sasha asked.

  “Are you kidding? I can’t afford this. But if Dad wants to know what to get me extra special for Christmas . . .” Her blue eyes practically sparkled.

  “I dunno,” Sasha said, taking a gander at the price tag. “He might think it’s pretty frivolous. Like, when would you ever wear it?”

  Sadie frowned. “Prom?”

  Sasha laughed. “You gotta find a guy first.”

  Like she had? Katie wondered.

  “I might just go by myself.”

  “And who would you dance with?” Sasha asked.

  “Everybody.”

  “There you go!” Katie said. She liked these girls more and more. They were bright, and funny and . . .

  Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to get too attached to them. And why did she suddenly feel that way?

  * * *

  • • •

  It was late by the time Katie dropped the girls home and returned to her apartment. She was a bit tired after the long day, but she still had work to do. Margo would arrive the next day, and there couldn’t be a speck of dust anywhere.

  “Please don’t shed a single hair while Margo is here,” Katie told her cats, Della and Mason.

  The pair looked nonplussed and assumed the attitude that they’d shed right on Margo herself if they got the urge and the opportunity presented itself.

  Katie put on some lively Christmas music, diffused some gingerbread essential oil she’d bought at Gilda’s Gourmet Baskets, and got out her cleaning supplies. She needed to scrub the bathroom from top to bottom, clean the kitchen, dust . . . It was as if spring had come early to McKinlay Mill. She always kept a neat home, but not even Martha Stewart could undergo the scrutiny of Margo Bonner and come out unscathed.

  Katie started with the bathroom, cleaning the toilet and the sink, while two furry little faces watched from the doorway. Then she tackled the bathtub before scrubbing the floor. She put out her prettiest guest towels and gave the cats a stern warning not to claw them up.

  Next came the kitchen. She sprayed oven cleaner in the spotless oven before starting on the countertops. By the time she’d wiped down the cabinets, it was time to finish with the oven. She took some pretty Christmas dish towels from a drawer and placed them on the magnetized hooks on the oven. She wished she had oven mitts to match the towels, but the plain red ones she had would have to do.

  After dusting the living room, Katie lugged the vacuum cleaner out of the closet. She plugged it in and ran it over the living room floor. Then she moved the sofa. That was more of a job than she’d expected it to be. Too bad Andy was still working. She could’ve used his strong arms.

  Her phone rang, and she answered without looking at the screen. “Hello?”

  “Um . . . hi.”

  It was Ray.

  “Am I interrupting anything?”

  Katie laughed, realizing how breathless she’d sounded when answering. “Actually, yes. I’m moving the sofa. But I’ve got it to where I can vacuum behind it, so you’re giving me a break before I have to push it back into place.”

  “Do you need me to come over and help you?”

  “No, but I appreciate the offer,” she said. “I’m guessing you’re calling for an update.”

  They hadn’t talked when Katie dropped off the girls earlier.

  “Yeah, they’re in their rooms now, so I thought we could talk. But if this is a bad time for you . . .”

  “It’s not. I’m simply trying to get everything shipshape before Margo gets here.” She laughed again. “Maybe I need another lecture from Sadie on not caring what other people think.”

  “Oh boy. She gotcha, huh?”

  “Sasha and me both.”

  “Well, Sadie has never shied away from a soapbox or a debate in her life,” he said. “And if she lectured you, she did it for your own good and because she cares about you. Take it from one who’s been there.”

  “You’re raising some terrific girls, Ray.”

  “I had a lot of help. Can’t take credit for most of their good qualities.”

  “Do I need to have Sadie lecture you?” Katie asked.

  He chuckled. “Touché.”

  “Sasha did say she’s concerned about her weight. It’s something to do with Adam and a girl at school who’s been flirting with him. I invited her to come walk with me on Saturdays and when school lets out for winter break.”

  “They told me about the walking. They’re both planning to take you up on your offer, and they’re going to enlist Sophie, too.”

  “Good. I need the accountability lately and will enjoy the company.”

  “They enjoy your company, too. Thanks again for your help.”

  “Anytime.”

  “Talk to you soon,” Ray said, sounding cheerful.

  “Yeah,” Katie agreed, and they hung up.

  Katie pushed the sofa back into place. She finished vacuuming the apartment and then returned the machine to the closet. When she flopped onto the couch wondering what she should do next, Mason and Della joined her. Della, the tabby, climbed onto her lap while Mason, her black-and-white cat, lay against her thigh.

  Her thoughts turned to Francine’s offer. “What do you think, guys? Should I open a tea shop?”

  The cats responded with thoughtful purrs.

  “What would we name the place? Afternoon Tea is too bland. What about Tealightful?” She laughed. “Just Tea Zing? Subtle Tea? The Tea Cozy? Or what about The Tea Cottage?” She groaned. “I need to do something. I’m turning into a crazy lady who talks to her cats.”

  She still hadn’t made up her mind about taking over the tea shop. It was a huge responsibility, especially given her duties at Artisans Alley. But, truth be told, the Alley was almost running itself now. It wasn’t necessary for her to be as hands-on as she had been in the beginning. It was possible she could do both . . . especially if she brought in a full-time manager for the tea shop.

  It wouldn’t hurt to drop by the bank to see about getting a loan. And she’d have plenty of time to do that before Margo arrived. She just needed to draw up a business plan. But first she should see if Vance could be at Artisans Alley the following morning to unlock the doors.

  Although it was just past nine, Katie took a chance and dialed Vance’s home number. He wasn’t home, but his wife, Janey, said she felt sure he wouldn’t mind.

  “He usually gets there about the same time you do anyway.”

  “Thanks, Janey. How’re you feeling?” Janey had MS, but it had been in remission for nearly a year now.

  “I’m still doing fine. I appreciate your asking. By the way, I hear that Francine is selling the tea shop.”

  Katie hadn’t intended to broach the subject of the tea shop with Janey, but now she confirmed that the rumor was true. “In fact, she’s trying to talk me into buying her out. If I do, I’d need Vance to help out a bit more at the Alley. And of course I’d pay him for it.”

  “Are you seriously thinking of buying it?”

  “Yes. Of course, it’s a long way from being a done deal. I wonder what the vendors would say if I diversified.”

  “I can only speak for Vance,” Janey said, “but he believes you can do anything you set your mind to. In fact, I used to be envious of you because Vance speaks so highly of you.”

  Katie pictured Janey with her pretty face and Dolly Parton–like figure.

  “There’s no need for you to ever be envious of another woman. Vance adores you, and you know it.”

  Janey giggled. “I do know it. Still, he would encourage you to buy the tea shop if that’s something you want to do.”

  “I don’t want the vendors at Artisans Alley to feel like I’m letting them down.”

  “Honey, they wouldn’t be in business right now if it weren’t for you. You kept that place afloat when Ezra died.”

  “It wasn’t easy.” Katie shivered at the recollection of the poor old man dead at the bottom of the Alley’s main staircase.

  “I know it wasn’t. And if they’re honest with themselves, they know it wasn’t, either. Just know that if you buy the tea shop, Vance and I will be two of the first ones through the door.”

  “Aw, that’s sweet. Thanks, Janey.”

  “You’re welcome. I have to admit, I’ve kinda missed it. My friends and I stopped going there a couple of months ago because of Vonne.”

  “Oh? What did she do?”

  “Well, she and Francine hired Vance for a handyman job at their home. After that, Vonne started calling Vance wanting him to do other work. He refused. When I asked why, he said she’d behaved inappropriately.”

  “In what way?” Katie asked.

  “I’m not sure, but she wouldn’t quit calling. I finally had to put that woman in her place and tell her to find somebody else to do her work.” Janey blew out a breath. “I hate to speak ill of the dead, but I wonder if Vonne didn’t cause a lot of people to stop going to the tea shop.”

  “I suppose you’ve heard the police suspect foul play.”

  “I did hear that. Do they know who killed her?”

  “I don’t think so.” Katie thought back to Rose’s inclination that it was some woman who saw Vonne as a rival for her romantic partner. After talking with Janey, Katie was more convinced than ever that Rose just might be right.

  Four

  The next morning, Katie wanted to look her best when facing both the loan officer and her former mother-in-law. She pulled her hair up into a French twist, applied a little more makeup than her usual mascara and lip gloss, and put on the navy suit she hadn’t worn since leaving Kimper Insurance. The hem of her skirt brushed the tops of her tall, dove gray boots. Pearl studs given to her by Chad on their first wedding anniversary completed the look. She felt that she looked every inch a successful businesswoman as she left the apartment.

  Her confidence remained intact as she was ushered into the office of Sandra Harrison, loan officer. Sandra, who sat behind her walnut desk, also wore a suit—hers was a black-and-white houndstooth. The woman’s hair was cut in a chin-skimming bob that barely moved when Sandra stood to shake Katie’s hand.

  Unfortunately, Katie’s confidence took a nosedive after Sandra looked at her proposal and “ran the numbers.”

  “But that’s impossible,” Katie said. “Are you sure you can’t make me a better offer than that?”

  Sandra leaned back in her chair and folded her well-manicured hands atop the folder containing the business plan Katie had prepared the night before. “I’m sorry, but based on the amount of equity you have in Artisans Alley, these are the best terms we can provide you.”

  The terms were crap and Sandra had to know it, but Katie was still trying to be professional. “I’ve got a proven track record. You can clearly see from the financial statements I’ve provided that I completely turned Artisans Alley around. The place was on the verge of bankruptcy when I took it over.”

  “Yes, but that’s only one business. And running a . . . a flea market . . . is entirely different from operating a successful tea shop.”

  Katie’s jaw dropped. “A flea market? I’ll have you know that Artisans Alley is a far cry from a flea market. It’s a co-op of talented professionals working together under—”

  “Yet you will agree that it’s an entirely different type of business, Ms. Bonner. You have no experience with food service.”

  Katie’s mouth tightened. “Would you be this condescending if I were a man?”

  Sandra slid Katie’s folder across the desk. “I’m sorry if you feel I’m being sexist with the loan terms presented, but you’re wrong. We don’t discriminate.”

  “According to a popular website, female business owners get offered higher interest rates and shorter terms for smaller loans than their male counterparts. What do you say to that?”

  “Look, just as this bank isn’t a ‘good old boys’ club’ where we throw money at any male who comes in and asks for it, neither is it a sisterhood where I’ll give our best terms to someone at high risk of default merely because she’s a woman.”

  “I didn’t ask for the best terms. I merely asked for decent terms.”

  “And I made you the fairest offer you’re going to get. If you don’t believe me, go to another bank and see if you fare any better.”

  “I’ll do that.” Katie snatched the file from the desk, grabbed her coat, and stormed out of Sandra Harrison’s office.

  * * *

  • • •

  Katie realized as she left the bank that she had plenty of time to get to the airport before Margo’s flight arrived. She’d anticipated being at the bank longer . . . discussing the empowerment of women in business . . . signing the loan papers. She contemplated heading back to Artisans Alley to get a little work done but in the end decided to go on to the airport and have lunch there instead. It would give her the opportunity to clear her mind and formulate a new plan of action.

  When she strode toward the sandwich shop, she was surprised to hear a familiar male voice call her name. She turned and smiled broadly when she spotted her friend Seth Landers sitting at a table alone.

  “What a nice surprise,” she said, walking over to the table and into his warm embrace. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to pick up a client, but his flight was delayed, so here I am. What are you doing here?”

  “Are you ready for this?” She looked straight into his warm brown eyes. “I’m here to pick up Margo, Chad’s mom.”

  “I thought you two despised each other,” Seth said.

  “Despised is a strong word.” It was fairly accurate, but Katie hated to admit that, especially now that Chad was gone. “I haven’t seen her since Chad’s funeral.”

  “So, why now?” He shook his head. “Wait. I’m keeping you from your lunch. Put in your order, and then come back and tell me everything.”

  “Deal.”

  Katie returned five minutes later with a ham-and-cheese sandwich and an iced tea. Seth stood to pull her chair out for her. Not only did Seth have impeccable manners, he was magnificently handsome—sandy hair, always fashionably dressed, the build of a professional trainer—and he was like a brother to Katie. That he was also an attorney didn’t hurt matters, either.

  Once she was seated, and Seth had returned to his chair, he returned to the question of the purpose of Margo’s visit.

  “All she told me was that she was going to be in town and would like to stay with me for a couple of days.”

  “That’s how she worded it—a couple of days?”

  Katie nodded.

  “Then that could literally mean two days . . .”

  “Or it could mean a week,” Katie said. “Yeah.”

  He grinned. “All right.”

  “It isn’t funny,” she said. But as she looked into his teasing eyes, she had to concede that she could find a teensy bit of amusement in the situation. “It’s crazy. She called me the day before and invited herself to stay with me. Ray Davenport thinks she’s feeling nostalgic and wants to feel close to Chad.”

  “That makes sense. Or maybe she has a gift—something Chad left for you—that she just discovered and wants you to have.”

  At that, Katie did laugh. “If the Margo Bonner I know had found something Chad had left behind, she’d keep it for herself.”

  “Maybe she’s changed.” He nodded toward her outfit. “Is that why you’re dressed up today—to impress the motherin-law?”

  “Former mother-in-law, and no, I’m dressed like this because I went by the bank this morning to see about a loan—fat lot of good it did me.”

  “A loan? I thought Artisans Alley was doing well.”

  “It is! Really well. So much so, in fact, that I’m considering assuming ownership of Afternoon Tea.”

  “I heard Francine was selling.”

  “I believe she’s been considering it, but now that Vonne’s gone . . .” She trailed off and took a sip of her tea.

  Seth leaned closer. “What have you heard about that situation?”

  “I’ve heard that she didn’t die in a car accident,” Katie said.

  “She didn’t.” He lowered his voice. “Also—and this was told to me by a friend who works with the medical examiner—she was pregnant.”

  Katie didn’t bother to feign surprise at that piece of news. “Do you think that’s a motive for her murder?”

  “It’s a strong possibility,” Seth said. “And my . . . friend . . . does, too.”

  “Tell me more about this friend,” she said with a smile. “I get the impression this person is more than that.”

  “He is. We’ve been out a time or two . . . and we’re seeing each other again tonight. I’m making dinner for him.” He dabbed at the corners of his mouth with his napkin. “And how are things going with you and the cinnamon bun king?”

  “Fine.” Katie thought she’d said it like she meant it, but apparently, she had not.

  “Uh-oh. What’s wrong?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “We’re both just so busy these days that we rarely have time for each other . . . and yet we both keep taking on new projects. At first, Andy seemed content to run the pizzeria, but then he added cinnamon buns to the menu.” She sighed. “Sure, they’re terrific and a wonderful moneymaker for Andy, but now he’s busier than ever.”