buttonhole
Doogie and spread a little cheer. He’s apparently the regional manager for Mills City
Banks. Sent here to bat cleanup.”
Ducovny grabbed a copy of John Grisham’s newest thriller from the shelf and squeezed
it between his work-worn hands. “I don’t like him.”
“Join the club,” responded Suzanne. “Neither do I.”
There. She’d said it out loud. She’d admitted it in the light of day, and to someone
other than Toni or Petra. And guess what? She wasn’t a terrible person for it, either.
“Then you’ll help me?” asked Ducovny. “You’ll set Doogie straight?”
“I’ll try,” said Suzanne, wondering exactly what she was promising.
A MAZING aromas wafted throughout the kitchen and swirled out into the café as Suzanne, Toni,
and Petra turned their full attention to prepping for afternoon coffee and tea. This
was their most elegant time of day, their civilized respite from the rest of the Cackleberry
Club craziness. And even in the middle of winter, the day after a major snowstorm,
they knew they’d get pretty near a full house.
Suzanne was proud that she’d managed to subtly introduce afternoon tea to their customers.
Of course, they’dpretty much had to point a loaded gun at the heads of the men to get them to order
tea. But, much to her delight, the women of Kindred and the surrounding environs had
embraced tea service like shoppers at a 70 percent-off clearance sale. The café often
filled with women eager to ditch their winter sweatshirts and jeans for vintage wool
skirts, fancy sweaters topped with lace, and warm, frilly scarves. These newly converted
tea lovers mingled with friends, sipped Darjeeling and oolong tea from bone china
teacups, nibbled on dainty finger sandwiches and other goodies, and caught up on the
latest news in the romance-book world.
With tea service, life was good.
A FTER whisking together flour, sugar, salt, eggs, melted butter, and more, Petra popped
her famous oat-and-almond scones into the oven. Meanwhile, Suzanne and Toni buzzed
about the café clearing away the detritus from lunch and trading ketchup bottles for
silver creamers and crystal bowls filled with sugar cubes.
Suzanne glanced around and realized how grateful she was to have daily rituals like
this to keep her grounded and remind her of what really mattered in life. It also
helped her keep thoughts of Ben Busacker’s grisly death at bay.
I like thinking about tasty finger sandwiches and pretty lace tablecloths,
she thought.
I enjoy brewing healthy green tea and malty Assam tea, and serving it in dainty cups
and saucers. And these two crazy BFFs in my life, Toni and Petra…Okay, I know it sounds
squishy and a little bit lovefesty, but I don’t know what I’d do without them!
Suzanne smiled to herself as she sidled into the kitchen. “I can’t stand it much longer,”
she said to Petra. “How soon are those scones going to be ready? The smell is making
me ravenous!”
“Didn’t you eat?” asked Toni, who’d cribbed a triangle sandwich and was munching on
it.
“Be careful,” Petra warned Suzanne. “You’re starting to sound like Sheriff Doogie.”
“Just as long as I don’t end up looking like Doogie,” said Suzanne. She watched over
Petra’s shoulder as she opened the oven door to reveal giant scones that were turning
a gorgeous golden brown.
“Two more minutes,” Petra declared. She turned and stared at Suzanne. “Are you going
to let us in on the conversation you just had with Reed Ducovny or keep us in the
dark and guessing?”
“Let you in?” said Suzanne. “I figured you must have heard it. I figured
everybody
heard it.”
Toni narrowed her eyes. “So Doogie sees Ducovny as a suspect?”
“Apparently so,” said Suzanne, “since he paid Ducovny a visit.”
“That’s just plain silly,” said Petra. “Everybody knows Ducovny wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
“Tell me about it,” said Suzanne.
Doogie and spread a little cheer. He’s apparently the regional manager for Mills City
Banks. Sent here to bat cleanup.”
Ducovny grabbed a copy of John Grisham’s newest thriller from the shelf and squeezed
it between his work-worn hands. “I don’t like him.”
“Join the club,” responded Suzanne. “Neither do I.”
There. She’d said it out loud. She’d admitted it in the light of day, and to someone
other than Toni or Petra. And guess what? She wasn’t a terrible person for it, either.
“Then you’ll help me?” asked Ducovny. “You’ll set Doogie straight?”
“I’ll try,” said Suzanne, wondering exactly what she was promising.
A MAZING aromas wafted throughout the kitchen and swirled out into the café as Suzanne, Toni,
and Petra turned their full attention to prepping for afternoon coffee and tea. This
was their most elegant time of day, their civilized respite from the rest of the Cackleberry
Club craziness. And even in the middle of winter, the day after a major snowstorm,
they knew they’d get pretty near a full house.
Suzanne was proud that she’d managed to subtly introduce afternoon tea to their customers.
Of course, they’dpretty much had to point a loaded gun at the heads of the men to get them to order
tea. But, much to her delight, the women of Kindred and the surrounding environs had
embraced tea service like shoppers at a 70 percent-off clearance sale. The café often
filled with women eager to ditch their winter sweatshirts and jeans for vintage wool
skirts, fancy sweaters topped with lace, and warm, frilly scarves. These newly converted
tea lovers mingled with friends, sipped Darjeeling and oolong tea from bone china
teacups, nibbled on dainty finger sandwiches and other goodies, and caught up on the
latest news in the romance-book world.
With tea service, life was good.
A FTER whisking together flour, sugar, salt, eggs, melted butter, and more, Petra popped
her famous oat-and-almond scones into the oven. Meanwhile, Suzanne and Toni buzzed
about the café clearing away the detritus from lunch and trading ketchup bottles for
silver creamers and crystal bowls filled with sugar cubes.
Suzanne glanced around and realized how grateful she was to have daily rituals like
this to keep her grounded and remind her of what really mattered in life. It also
helped her keep thoughts of Ben Busacker’s grisly death at bay.
I like thinking about tasty finger sandwiches and pretty lace tablecloths,
she thought.
I enjoy brewing healthy green tea and malty Assam tea, and serving it in dainty cups
and saucers. And these two crazy BFFs in my life, Toni and Petra…Okay, I know it sounds
squishy and a little bit lovefesty, but I don’t know what I’d do without them!
Suzanne smiled to herself as she sidled into the kitchen. “I can’t stand it much longer,”
she said to Petra. “How soon are those scones going to be ready? The smell is making
me ravenous!”
“Didn’t you eat?” asked Toni, who’d cribbed a triangle sandwich and was munching on
it.
“Be careful,” Petra warned Suzanne. “You’re starting to sound like Sheriff Doogie.”
“Just as long as I don’t end up looking like Doogie,” said Suzanne. She watched over
Petra’s shoulder as she opened the oven door to reveal giant scones that were turning
a gorgeous golden brown.
“Two more minutes,” Petra declared. She turned and stared at Suzanne. “Are you going
to let us in on the conversation you just had with Reed Ducovny or keep us in the
dark and guessing?”
“Let you in?” said Suzanne. “I figured you must have heard it. I figured
everybody
heard it.”
Toni narrowed her eyes. “So Doogie sees Ducovny as a suspect?”
“Apparently so,” said Suzanne, “since he paid Ducovny a visit.”
“That’s just plain silly,” said Petra. “Everybody knows Ducovny wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
“Tell me about it,” said Suzanne.
Similar Books
