Crime in the Café

CHAPTER TWO

What could have happened?

An accident?

A… murder?

God forbid, not another one!

“Carol?” Lacey asked, her vocal cords feeling squeezed.

The look of fear in Carol’s eyes as she paced back and forth across the shop floor was sending lightning bolts of panic straight through Lacey. Her stomach started somersaulting, as if she’d driven her secondhand Volvo off the side of the cliff and was careening toward the ocean below. She felt her hands begin to tremble as a succession of memories invaded her mind: Iris’s body lying on the floor of her manor house; Buck’s sand-smeared mouth as he lay deceased on the beach. Then the flashing images were joined by the sudden screech of police sirens in her ears, and that awful crinkly sound of the silver blanket the paramedics wrapped around her shoulders. And finally, she heard the voice of Superintendent Turner, echoing his warning in her mind. “Don’t leave town, okay?”

Lacey grabbed the counter to steady herself, braced for whatever awful news Carol was about to deliver. She was barely able to focus on the woman who was pacing around the shop floor.

“What is it?” Gina asked impatiently. “What’s happened?”

“Yes, please hurry up and drop your bombshell,” Taryn said, lazily, waving the Edison lamp carelessly as she spoke. “Some of us have lives to get back to.”

Carol finally stopped pacing. She turned to face the three of them, her eyes rimmed with red.

“There’s…” she began, snuffling on her words. “A… a… a B&B opening!”

A beat of silence passed as the three women let the revelation—or lack of one—sink in.

“Ha!” Taryn finally exclaimed. She slapped a twenty-pound note down on the counter beside Lacey. “I’ll leave you to deal with this crisis. Thanks for the lamp.”

And with that, she waltzed away, leaving a scent of smoky cedar perfume in her wake.

Once she was gone, Lacey turned her attention back to Carol, staring at her in disbelief. Of course, a new B&B was terrible news for Carol, who would be facing even stiffer competition for the tourist trade than she already did, but it didn’t make one jot of difference to Lacey! And considering the awful misfortune the town had experienced with the murder of Iris Archer and the more recent murder of Buck, she ought to know better than to run around town screaming over something so trivial!

All Lacey seemed able to do was blink. Her fury seemed to have routed her tongue well and truly to her palate. Gina’s tongue, on the other hand, was as loose as ever.

“That’s it?” she bellowed. “A B&B? You nearly gave me a bloody heart attack!”

“A B&B in Wilfordshire is terrible news for everyone,” Carol cried again, frowning at Gina’s response. “Not just me!”

“Really?” Lacey said, finally finding her voice. “And why would that be exactly?”

Carol shot her a daggered look. “Huh, well I should’ve known you wouldn’t understand. You are an outsider, after all.”

Lacey felt herself flame with rage. How dare Carol call her an outsider? She’d been here for several months, and had contributed to the local town in a myriad of ways! Her store was as much a part of the fabric of the high street as anyone else’s.

She opened her mouth to respond, but before she did, Gina snatched up a box of tissues from the counter and stepped forward, creating a physical barrier between her and Carol.

“Why don’t you take a seat?” Gina said to the B&B owner. “Let’s talk all this through.” Then she flashed Lacey a look that said, I’ll handle this, because you’re about to blow.

She was right. The panic Carol’s non-event had induced in Lacey was starting to subside, but she really could’ve done without it in the first place. And she certainly could’ve done without Carol calling her an outsider! If anything could rile Lacey, that was it.

As Gina guided Carol to a red leather loveseat, offering her a tissue—“Here. Take one of these for your snoz”—Lacey paced away and took several calming breaths. As she did, Chester looked up at her and let out a sympathetic whinny.

“I’m all right, boy,” she told him. “Just a bit rattled.” She bent down and patted his head. “I’m okay now.”

Chester whined as if in reluctant acceptance.

Bolstered by his support, Lacey went over to the loveseat to find out what was really going on.

Carol was full on sobbing now. Gina slowly rolled her eyes up until her deadpan expression locked with Lacey’s. Lacey made a shooing gesture with her hand. Gina quickly vacated her seat.

Lacey perched beside Carol, the design of the loveseat forcing her to sit thigh to thigh with the woman; far closer than Lacey would ever choose if not for the circumstances.

“It’s that bloody new mayor’s fault,” Carol wailed. “I knew he was trouble!”

“The new mayor?” Lacey said. She didn’t know anything about there being a new mayor.

Carol turned her angry red eyes to Lacey. “He’s had the east half of town rezoned. That whole area beyond the canoe club’s been changed from residential to commercial! He’s going to have a shopping mall built! Filled with horrible, characterless chain stores!” Her voice grew more and more incredulous. “He wants to build a water park! Here! In Wilfordshire! Where it rains for two-thirds of the year! And then he’s going to build this monstrosity of a viewing tower! It’ll be such an eyesore!”

Lacey listened to Carol’s ranting, though she failed to understand why this was such a big problem. As things stood at the moment, barely anyone ventured beyond the canoe club. It was pretty much dead space. Even the beach on that side of town was rugged. Developing the area seemed like a good idea to her, especially if there was going to be a high-class B&B to service it all. And surely that would benefit all the businesses on the high street, with the increased tourism.

Lacey looked up at Gina to see if her expression might hold any clues as to why this was supposedly such a big crisis. Instead, Gina was barely hiding the smirk on her face. Clearly, she thought Carol was being overdramatic, and if Gina thought you were being overdramatic, then you really had problems!

“She’s some go-getter from London,” Carol continued ranting. “Twenty-two years old. Fresh out of uni!”

She took another tissue from the box and blew her nose noisily, before handing the soggy scrunched thing back to Gina. The smirk was immediately wiped from Gina’s face.

“How does a twenty-two-year-old open a B&B?” Lacey said, her tone one of marvel rather than Carol’s disdain.

“By having rich parents, obviously,” Carol sneered. “Her parents owned that huge retirement home in the hills. You know the one?”

Lacey could just about bring it to her memory, though she’d barely ventured that way. From what she remembered, it was a very large estate. It would require an enormous renovation to turn it from a dated retirement home to a B&B, not to mention some development of the infrastructure. It was a good fifteen-minute walk out of town and there were only two buses an hour that served that part of the coast. It seemed like a lot for a twenty-two-year-old to take on.

“Anyway,” Carol continued. “The parents decided to retire early and sell off their retirement portfolio, but each of her kids got to choose one property each to do what they wanted with. Can you imagine being twenty-two and being given a property? I had to work my fingers to the bone to start my business and now Little Miss Thing is just going to waltz in and start hers like that.” She snapped her fingers aggressively.

“We should count ourselves lucky she decided on something as sensible as a B&B,” Gina said. “If I’d been given a huge house at her age, I’d probably have opened a twenty-four-hour nightclub.”

Lacey couldn’t help herself. She let out a bark of laughter. But Carol dissolved into tears.

Just then, Chester decided to come over and see what all the commotion was about. He rested his head in Carol’s lap.

What a sweetheart, Lacey thought.

Chester didn’t know Carol was being dramatic about nothing. He just thought she was a human in distress who deserved some comfort. Lacey decided to take a page out of his book.

“Sounds to me like you’re panicking over nothing,” she said to Carol, softly. “Your B&B is iconic. The tourists love the Barbie-pink house on the high street just as much as they love Tom’s window sculptures made from macarons. A luxury B&B can’t compete with your period property. It has its own quirky style and people love it.”

Lacey had to ignore the sound of sniggering coming from Gina. Quirky had been a carefully selected word to describe all the flamingos and palm ferns, and she could just imagine the different ones Gina would’ve chosen: gaudy, tacky, garish…

Carol looked up at Lacey with watery eyes. “You really think so?”

“I know so! And besides, you have something Little Miss Thing doesn’t. Grit. Determination. Passion. No one handed you the B&B on a plate, did they? And what kind of Londoner really wants to settle down in Wilfordshire at the ripe old age of twenty-two? My bet is Little Miss Thing will get bored soon enough and go off to greener pastures.”

“Or grayer pastures,” Gina quipped. “You know, because of all the roads in London? That she’ll be going back to… oh, never mind.”

Carol collected herself. “Thank you, Lacey. You really made me feel better.” She stood and patted Chester on the head. “You too, darling dog.” She dabbed her cheeks with her tissue. “Now, I’d better get back to work.”

She tipped up her chin and left without another word.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Gina started laughing.

“Honestly,” she exclaimed. “Someone needs to give that woman a reality check! She’s really in the wrong business if she thinks a twenty-two-year-old novice is a threat. You and I both know this London kid will be out of here as soon as she’s got enough money together to buy a warehouse apartment in Chelsea.” She shook her head. “I think I’ll take my break now, if you don’t mind? I’ve had quite enough excitement.”

“Go for it,” Lacey said, just as the door tinkled to usher in another customer. “I’ve got this.”

Gina patted her knees to get Chester’s attention. “Come on, boy, walkies.”

He leapt up and the two headed for the door. The short, slim young woman who’d just entered took a wide step to the left, in that tell-tale way of a person who was scared of dogs and expecting them to jump up and bite them.

Gina gave her a curt nod. She didn’t have much time for people who didn’t like pets.

Once the door had closed behind Gina and Chester, the girl seemed to relax. She approached Lacey, her patchwork skirt swishing as she went. Paired with an oversized knitted cardigan, her outfit wouldn’t look out of place hanging in Gina’s closet.

“Can I help you?” Lacey asked the woman.

“Yes,” the young woman said. She had a timid energy about her, her mousy brown hair that lay unstyled over her shoulders adding to her childlike air, and her large eyes giving her something of a rabbit-in-the-headlights look. “You’re Lacey, right?”

“That’s right.”

It never failed to make Lacey feel disconcerted when people knew her by name. Especially considering what had happened with Brooke…

“I’m Suzy,” the girl said, holding out her hand to shake Lacey’s. “I’m opening a B&B along the coast. Someone gave me your name as a good contact for furniture.”

Lacey wished Gina was still here so she could exchange a surprised look with her, but alas she was alone, and so she shook the hand being proffered to her. She couldn’t quite believe this tiny slip of a girl was the rich London graduate who had struck such fear into Carol. She barely looked over sixteen, and was as timid as a mouse. She looked like she was on her way to church, not about to open a business.

“What is it that you’re looking for?” Lacey asked, masking her surprise with politeness.

The girl shrugged bashfully. “I’m not really sure yet, to be honest. All I know is that I don’t want anything modern. The estate is far too big for modern. It would feel corporate and soulless, you know? It needs to feel cozy. Luxurious. Unique.”

“Well, why don’t we walk around the store and see if we can get some inspiration?” Lacey said.

“That’s a great idea!” Suzy replied, grinning a youthful smile of exuberance.

Lacey led her to Steampunk Corner. “I was an interior designer’s assistant for about fourteen years back in New York,” she explained as Suzy began perusing the shelves. “You’ll be amazed at where you can draw inspiration from.”

Suzy was peering curiously at the aquanaut’s suit. Lacey had a sudden vision of a steampunk-themed B&B.

“Let’s go this way,” she said hurriedly, diverting Suzy’s attention toward the Nordic Nook instead.

But nothing in her Scandinavian-inspired section seemed to spark excitement in Suzy, so they continued weaving through the store. Lacey had really built up quite the collection of items during her short months as an antiquarian.

They walked the length of Lamp Lane before ending in Vintage Valley.

“Seen anything that catches your eye?” Lacey asked.

Suzy twisted her lips as if uncertain. “Not really. But I’m sure you’ll be able to find something.”

Lacey hesitated. She thought the whole purpose of the shop tour was to find something Suzy felt inspired by, not her!

“I’m sorry,” Lacey said, a little perplexed. “What do you mean?”

The young woman was busy rummaging in her cloth purse and evidently didn’t hear her. She pulled out a diary, thumbing through the pages, then clicked the top of a pen and peered eagerly at Lacey. “Are you free tomorrow?”

“Free for what?” Lacey asked, her confusion growing.

“The renovation,” Suzy said. “Didn’t I…?” She trailed off and her cheeks went bright red. “Shoot. Sorry.” She quickly shoved the pen and diary back into her shoulder bag. “I’m new to all this business stuff. I get things in the wrong order all the time. Let me start at the beginning. So, my plan is to get the B&B furnished in time for the air show and…”

“Let me stop you right there,” Lacey interrupted. “What air show?”

“The air show,” Suzy repeated.

From the frown that had appeared between her eyebrows, Lacey deduced it was her turn to be perplexed.

“Next Saturday?” the young woman continued. “Red Arrows? Castle of Brogain? You really don’t know what I’m talking about?”

Lacey was stumped. Suzy may as well be talking another language. “You might’ve guessed from my accent, I’m not from around these parts.”

“No, of course.” Suzy blushed again. “Well, air shows are quite common here in the UK. You get shows all across the coast, but the Wilfordshire one is a special gem because of Brogain castle. The Red Arrows do a very exciting formation as they pass over it, and every high schooler studying photography wants to come and get a black-and-white shot of it. The juxtaposition of old war and new war.” She printed the words in the air with her hands and giggled. “I know, because I was one of those high schoolers once.”

All four years ago, Lacey thought.

“There’s also about a zillion professional photographers who come as well,” Suzy continued in a way that made it clear to Lacey she was a nervous rambler. “It’s like a competition, everyone trying to snap THE image, the one that the tourist board will buy. And then, there’s the people who come to show their respects to their ancestors. And all the families who just want to look at planes doing barrel rolls.”

“I guess I need to brush up on my local history a little bit,” Lacey said, feeling woefully ignorant.

“Oh, I’m just a history nerd, that’s all,” Suzy quipped. “I love thinking about how people lived a few generations back. I mean, it wasn’t that long ago that people would go and shoot game for their dinner! The Victorians in particular fascinate me.”

“Victorians…” Lacey repeated. “Shooting.” She clicked her fingers. “I have an idea!”

Something about Suzy’s wide-eyed enthusiasm had made the dusty cogs in the abandoned part of Lacey’s interior designer mind grind back to life. She led Suzy into the auction room and along the corridor toward the office.

Suzy watched on with intrigue as Lacey opened up the safe and pulled out the wooden case containing the flintlock rifle, before clicking open the latches, raising the lid, and carefully removing the antique weapon.

Suzy drew in a sharp breath.

“Inspiration for your B&B,” Lacey said. “Victorian hunting lodge.”

“I…” Suzy stammered. “It’s…”

Lacey couldn’t tell if she was appalled or astonished.

“I love it!” Suzy gushed. “It’s a brilliant idea! I can just see it now. Blue tartan. Velvet. Corduroy. An open fire. Wood panels.” Her eyes had gone round with wonder.

“And that’s called inspiration,” Lacey told her.

“How much is it?” Suzy asked eagerly.

Lacey faltered. She had not been intending to sell the gift from Xavier. She’d just meant for it to be a creative springboard.

“It’s not for sale,” she said.

Suzy’s bottom lip stuck out in disappointment.

Lacey then recalled Gina’s accusations over Xavier. If Gina thought the rifle was too much, then what would Tom think when he found out? Maybe it would be better if she did just sell it to Suzy.

“…Yet,” Lacey added, making a snap decision. “I’m waiting on some paperwork.”

Suzy’s face lit up. “So I can reserve it?”

“You can indeed,” Lacey said, returning the smile.

“And you?” Suzy asked, with a giggle. “Can I reserve you, too? As the interior designer? Please!”

Lacey hesitated. She didn’t do interior design anymore. She’d left that part of her back in New York City with Saskia. Her focus was on buying and selling antiques, learning how to auction them and building her business. She didn’t have time to work for Suzy and run her own store. Sure, she could put Gina in charge, but with the increased tourist trade, leaving her to man the shop alone seemed a little unwise.

“I’m not sure,” Lacey said. “I have a lot on my plate here.”

Suzy touched her arm apologetically. “Of course. I understand. How about you just come by and check the place out tomorrow? See whether you’d like to take on the project once you’ve got a better feel for it?”

Lacey found herself nodding. After everything that had happened with Brooke, she thought she’d be more wary of letting new people in. But maybe she’d be able to heal from that whole ordeal after all. Suzy had one of those infectious personalities that was easy to get swept along by. She’d make an excellent businesswoman.

Maybe Carol was right to worry.

“I guess there’s no harm in taking a look, is there?” Lacey said.

This time next week, when Lacey was looking back on this moment with Suzy with hindsight, the idiom famous last words would spring to mind.

CHAPTER THREE

Lacey drove along the seafront in her champagne-colored Volvo, windows cranked, a gentle midday sun warming her. She was on her way to the former retirement home, soon to be Wilfordshire’s newest B&B, with a surprise for Suzy in her passenger seat. Not Chester—her trusty companion had been far too content snoring in a sunbeam to be disturbed, and besides, Lacey was pretty certain Suzy was scared of dogs—but the flintlock rifle.

Lacey wasn’t sure if she was doing the right thing by parting with it. When she’d held the rifle, it felt like it belonged to her, as if the universe was telling her she was supposed to take care of it. But Gina had planted a worm in her ear over Xavier and his intentions and she just couldn’t see through the clouds.

“I guess it’s too late now,” Lacey said with a sigh. She’d already promised to sell it to Suzy, and it would look very unprofessional to back out of the sale now because of nothing more than a funny feeling!

Just then, Lacey passed Brooke’s old tearoom. It was all boarded up. The refurbishment she’d done in transforming the old canoe shed into a swanky eatery had all gone to waste.

Thinking of Brooke made Lacey feel on edge, which was really the last thing she needed to add to the disquiet she already felt about parting ways with the rifle.

She pressed her pedal to the ground, speeding up in the hope she could leave those horrible feelings behind her.

Soon, Lacey reached the east side of town, the less populated area untouched by the sprawl of stores that spread from north to south and west to center, the area that, according to Carol, Mayor Fletcher was going to change for the worse.

Just then, Lacey saw the turning that led to the former Sunrise Retirement Home, and took a left turn onto it. The bumpy road sloped upward, and was lined with beech trees so tall they formed a tunnel that cut out the sunlight.

“That’s not ominous at all…” Lacey said sarcastically. “Not in the slightest.”

Luckily, the trees soon thinned out, and daylight reached her once more.

Lacey got her first glimpse of the house nestled into the hillsides. Her interior designer’s mind switched immediately into gear as she assessed the exterior. It was a fairly modern-looking, red-brick, three-story mansion. She guessed it was a 1930s property that had been modernized over the years. The driveway and parking area were made of gray concrete—functional but unsightly. The windows of the manor had thick, plastic white frames—good for keeping out burglars, but a terrible eyesore. It would take more than a few strategically placed shrubs to make the exterior look like a Victorian hunting lodge.

Not that that was Lacey’s problem to solve. She’d not made any decisions yet regarding Suzy’s offer. She’d wanted to ask Tom for his advice, but he was working late fulfilling a last-minute order of rainbow-frosted cupcakes for the local YMCA’s annual summer extravaganza. She’d also put a message on the thread she shared with her mom and younger sister, and had received a “Don’t work too hard” response from the former, and an “if she’s paying good $$$ then go for it” from the latter.