One Spoonful of Trouble (Felicity Bell Book 1) by Nic Saint Page A

his mouth water. “A waffle house,” he muttered, rolling the words around his tongue.
    “Yeah, looks like. Says here the Bell family has operated this waffle house since 1938 when grandfather Peter Bell established it.”
    “Who cares when they started this frickin’ waffle house?” he snapped. “The woman’s bad news, that’s what she is.”
    They both stared at Felicity Bell as she walked into Rafi’s Deli, their eyes following her every move. Yeah, she was definitely pretty, Jerry reflected, very pretty indeed. And of no interest to them.
    “Let’s get out of here. Dawson’s a no-show.” And the sight of people walking out of this deli with their arms full of food was seriously depressing him. As Johnny put the car in gear, he made up his mind that if he survived this fast, he would stuff his face like it had never been stuffed before. White spots be damned.

CHAPTER 13

    Felicity swallowed a lump in her throat as she neared Bell’s. She knew chances were slim that her mother had already taken a look at the latest Flour Girl video, but it was still good to be prepared.
    After Rick’s sudden departure, she’d sat down at her desk and pounded out five hundred words for Stephen Fossick. It was definitely harder than writing menu cards for her mother, or her daily diary entries but after going over the text about a dozen times, she felt pretty good about it. It had a beginning, a middle and an end, and that was all that mattered.
    She’d wanted to call the piece ‘Death at the Deli’ since it had a nice ring to it, but remembering she was a reporter dealing with facts, not a novelist peddling fiction, she changed it to ’Ruckus at Rafi’s’. She’d always been a sucker for alliteration.
    Passing Rafi’s Deli, she hesitated for a moment, then decided to step inside. Just a quick visit to see how Rafi was holding up. The poor guy had probably spent most of the afternoon at the police station, testifying about the terrible events.
    The sound of the bell as she pushed open the door gave her mood a cheerful boost, and when she saw Rafi, busily ringing up his customers’ wares, she felt her mood surge even more.
    In spite of what happened, it was business as usual and it warmed her heart.
    “Miss Bell! Welcome, welcome!” Rafi caroled the moment he laid eyes on her.
    Ben and Rachelle Atkins, the customers waiting in line, put their hands together for an impromptu applause and added cheers to their clapping.
    “The heroine of the hour!” Ben exclaimed cheerily. A handsome middle-aged man with a shock of white hair, he owned the pharmacy across the street.
    Rachelle, his bottle blond wife of indiscernible age, held out her hand and shook Felicity’s. “That was a very brave thing you did, young lady,” she trilled.
    “Oh, well. Just spur of the moment kind of stuff,” she assured the couple.
    Ben nodded seriously. “If everybody was a courageous can-do girl like you there would be no crime in Happy Bays. Crooks wouldn’t come near the place!”
    “Thanks, Ben.” Felicity’s cheeks were reddening at the unexpected praise, and when she looked up she caught sight of a familiar figure walking by. She pursed her lips, a twinge of panic setting in when she realized Rick Dawson was about to enter the shop.
    She braced herself in anticipation of the meeting. This time the cheery clanging of the bell didn’t strike her as uplifting. It was more like a death knell.
    The smile on Rick’s face evaporated like breath on a razor blade the moment he caught sight of Felicity.
    “Oh,” he said, hesitating on the doorstep, then seemed to make up his mind, and stepped inside.
    “Rick,” Felicity said coldly.
    “Felicity. How nice to see you again.”
    Behind them, Rafi’s face had taken on a deeper tinge of mauve. He was pointing a trembling finger at Rick. “It’s him!” he cried. “The crook! He’s back!”
    “Oh, no,” Rick hastened to say, holding out his hand. Unfortunately for him, the object