The Cottage on the Corner by Shirlee McCoy

reluctant boyfriends and fiancés into husbands. One bite and they’d ask for the hand of the woman who’d delivered them.
    Or so the story went.
    The first time Charlotte heard it, she’d laughed. The second time wasn’t quite as funny. When Ellie Mae Anderson bought some for her boyfriend of seven years, Charlotte had told the poor misguided woman that there was no way the cupcakes could make her Jim propose. Fifty-year-old Ellie had smiled sagely and paid for a half dozen. Two weeks later, she and Jim eloped to Las Vegas.
    Next thing Charlotte knew, women were showing up on her doorstep at all hours of the day and night, begging for the cupcakes or the recipe. As if true love could be found in a chocolate confection.
    She snorted and poured more coffee into Zim’s mug. “I’ll throw in a half dozen cookies, too,” she offered, sweetening the pot just a little. “Fresh baked. I’m making them for the PTA meeting at the elementary school this afternoon.”
    â€œHow about you just throw in a ride to the sheriff’s department? You’re making a delivery there, this morning, right?”
    â€œJust my weekly delivery.” She’d already filled a platter with leftovers from the previous day’s baking. She’d drop it off after she delivered to the historical society.
    â€œPerfect. I’ll come along. You just stay in the car with Zuzu,” he crowed, looking just a little too smug for Charlotte’s comfort.
    â€œWhy do you need to go to the sheriff’s department?” she prodded.
    â€œA need to do my civic duty.”
    â€œWhat civic duty?”
    â€œGertrude’s growing weed in the greenhouse behind This-N-That,” he said matter-of-factly.
    Charlotte nearly spewed coffee across the room. “What!?”
    â€œPot. Cannabis. Marijuana.”
    â€œI know what weed is,” she cut in, glancing at Zuzu. She’d cleared off her plate and was walking around the kitchen, tracking bits of eggs across the tile floor. “I’m just not sure why you think Gertrude is growing it in the greenhouse.”
    â€œWhat else would she be growing?”
    â€œVegetables? Herbs?”
    â€œThen why does she keep the door locked?”
    â€œI didn’t know she did, and I’m surprised that you do. I thought the two of you had a truce.” They’d been feuding bitterly when Charlotte moved in, but they’d been getting along better in recent months, going bowling and to the movies like a couple of old friends.
    â€œWe do, but that doesn’t mean I’m not keeping an eye on her. The Rileys—”
    â€œZim, don’t. Okay?” She rubbed the back of her neck, hoping he’d let the matter drop. The last thing Tessa needed was to come home to the news that her greenhouse had been raided. “Tessa grows strawberries and blueberries in the greenhouse. She has tomato plants and green beans and an entire row of rose bushes that she uses to decorate the shop.”
    â€œI’m not saying Tessa has anything to do with Gertrude’s crimes. She’s probably completely unaware what with how busy her life was before the wedding, but you mark my words, Gertrude is up to no good. I saw that Kenny Simpson hanging out there one day.”
    â€œI don’t think I’ve met him.” But she was sure she was about to hear every detail of his life.
    â€œUsed to live outside of town in that little trailer park off of ninety.”
    â€œThat doesn’t make him a bad person.”
    â€œHe plays guitar in one of those seedy little bands. Goes to bars every weekend and exchanges music for drinks. He’s a loser. Pure and simple.”
    â€œYou seem to know an awful lot about him.”
    â€œI know his folks. They’re good people. It’s not their fault they birthed a bad apple.”
    â€œZim . . .” She shook her head and didn’t bother continuing. Zim had already