Dairy-Free Death Read online

  “She did some baking.”

  “Some,” Erin allowed. “A few treats to go with the tea. But mostly she bought them at the bakery and just served them in the tea room.”

  “You don’t think we need to worry about Trenton reopening The Bake Shoppe?”

  “No.” Erin shook her head, but there was a knot growing in her gut. Her business had been going quite well as the only bakery in town.

  What if Trenton did reopen Angela’s bakery? Was there enough business to go around and for both stores to be viable? And would people choose a gluten-free bakery over one that sold traditional bread, given the option? When Erin had first moved into town, everyone had said that there was only room for one bakery in Bald Eagle Falls.

  “I don’t think he’s going to reopen,” she told Vic. “And if he did, baking probably isn’t his thing. He left his mom to run The Bake Shoppe and stayed away for twenty years. If he wanted to run a bakery… he would have come back at some point. Wouldn’t he?”

  Vic leaned back in her chair. Her shoulders lifted and fell.

  “He’s probably just having a look around to see how much he has to clean up,” Erin said, “What he can sell. What the place is worth. If he’s the heir, he’ll need to take care of all of that.”

  “A lawyer and real estate agent could have taken care of all of that without him ever coming to town.”

  “Maybe he needed to prove his identity. Or do something in order to inherit. I don’t know. Maybe he just wanted to come back to make sure that Angela was really dead.”

  “Yeah.” Vic’s tone was subdued. It wasn’t until then that Erin remembered Angela was Vic’s aunt.

  “Do you remember Trenton? No, you wouldn’t remember him, he left around the time you were born. But did you see pictures of him? Hear stories? Do you know any of the other kids? I think Melissa said… there were three children? Two boys and a girl?”

  “Uh…” Vic rolled her eyes upward, trying to remember. “Trenton, Davis, and Sophie. But Sophie died, and Trenton disappeared. Davis… I don’t think he disappeared, exactly. Not like Trenton did. I think Aunt Angela still knew where he was. But she didn’t have anything to do with him. He was… you know… an addict. She was very… judgmental.”

  Vic herself had felt the sting of Angela’s judgments due to her gender identity. Erin looked at Vic, hoping she hadn’t made her assistant uncomfortable bringing up the subject.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Sure. Yeah. It doesn’t matter to me.”

  “So, there are two heirs, Trenton and Davis. If she didn’t write them both out of her will.”

  Vic nodded.

  “And she must not have,” Erin mused, “or Trenton wouldn’t be here. If she just left everything to First Baptist, there wouldn’t be any need for him to come to town to look The Bake Shoppe over.”

  “Could she do that?” Vic sounded surprised.

  “Leave it all to the church? Of course. People leave money to churches or charities all the time. You’re not actually required to give it to your family.”

  “Really? You can just leave it to whoever you want?”

  “Yes. Sure.”

  “But what if her family objects? I mean, what if she did leave it to the church, and Trenton… didn’t think the church deserved it?”

  “I guess he’d have to take the estate to court over it… challenge the will…”

  “Because he could be like you. He could want to take over the bakery. The church wouldn’t have any use for it, and if he wanted to…”

  “I… don’t know,” Erin admitted. “The sum of my knowledge of estate law is what I learned from Clementine’s lawyer and popular TV. That doesn’t exactly make me an expert.”

  Chapter Three

  THEY HEARD MORE RUMORS about Trenton as the day wore on and customers drifted in and out with the latest gossip. The town’s rumor mill was legendary. Internet social networks had nothing on the gossip network of a small town.

  Trenton was opening the bakery. He was selling the bakery. He was opening the bakery as some other business, much as Erin had. It all sounded like speculation, the flavor changing every hour or two. If Trenton really were changing his mind that fast, it was no wonder the poor man had fled town decades before.

  They stayed open long enough to catch the after-school crowd, the moms who got off work early to be home when their children arrived. The ones who wanted that last loaf of bread, pizza shell, or package of cookies for supper. Sometimes it was the children themselves who wandered in with a dollar or two for a cookie or muffin. By five o’clock, business had again slowed to a trickle and Erin and Vic were both yawning as they took turns prepping for the next morning and cleaning up the kitchen.

  Erin served the last couple of customers, locked the door, and shut off the lights. She yawned her way back to the kitchen, dragging her feet a little.

  “Well, I’m all in,” she confessed. “Everything is set, here, right?” She looked at her list and checked the fridge, nodding.

  “I think I got everything,” Vic contributed.

  “Looks like it. Let’s head for home.”

  They locked the back door. Erin looked up and down the darkening back lane, a city habit of looking for danger even though she knew there was none in quiet little Bald Eagle Falls. There was a dark silhouette making its way down the alley toward them, a man-shape. Erin suspected it was Officer Terry Piper, who liked to chat for a minute and see her off at the end of the day. But as the figure drew closer, she realized it was not Terry. He was taller and heavier than the officer. Erin checked to make sure that Vic was getting into the car and tightened her grip around her keys.

  “Who’s there?” she called out.

  Just a neighbor. Bald Eagle Falls was a neighborly place. People thought nothing of walking down alleys even after dark. There was little street crime, aside from the drug dealing that overflowed from the city. Maybe some teenage vandalism. Certainly, no violent crime.

  There was no answer from the approaching man. Erin was torn between getting into the car and getting reassurance that it was just one of her friends, nobody of any danger to her.

  “Hello?” she called again.

  “Who are you?” The answer was not threatening, but it still made her uncomfortable. The voice was unfamiliar. And anyone who lived in Bald Eagle Falls knew who she was. She was in the parking lot behind her own bakery. Who else would be there?

  “It’s Erin Price,” she said anyway. “Who’s there?”

  He was close enough that he was no longer silhouetted, but it wasn’t light enough to make out the features of his face. Just the general lines, the nose and the chin, the close-cropped hair. Unfamiliar.

  “My name is Trenton,” he said, confirming what she had already guessed. “You’re the bakery lady? Auntie Em or whatever?”

  “Auntie Clem’s Bakery,” Erin corrected. “My name is Erin, though. It’s named… after my aunt,” she finished lamely.

  “No kidding.”

  “My aunt knew your mother,” Erin offered hesitantly. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t know her…”

  “You’d be sorry if you did.” He sighed heavily. “Well, I guess that makes us competitors, then.”

  “You’re… reopening The Bake Shoppe?”

  “Don’t know why the idiot estate lawyer shut it down in the first place. If you have a successful business, why would you shut it down and let your customers be poached by someone else? Why not keep it running until you know what the heirs of the estate want?”

  “That would make more sense,” Erin agreed. “I was surprised when they just shut it down.”

  “Everything is still in place, and it looks like I can get most of the staff back. Those I can’t… I’ll just have to replace. I figure I should be able to get it open again within a week.”

  “Well…” Erin’s heart sank at the news. She had been happy with the amount of business Auntie Clem’s Bakery had been getting. She was going to have to re-evalua
te. Could she still be profitable with only half the clientele? She wouldn’t need as much inventory. She wouldn’t have to lay off any staff, as it was just her and Vic. They ran a pretty lean business, and Erin had been banking as much as she could. “Good luck. I’m sure there’s enough business for us both in Bald Eagle Falls.”

  “You’ll still have all of the gluten-free,” Trenton offered, and Erin could just make out the curve of his contemptuous smile. “I’m not planning on offering anything like that at my place.”

  Erin nodded. “Sure, that’s good,” she agreed, trying to force cheer into her voice. “There will always be people that have special dietary needs. That’s what I cater to.”

  “No need for normal people to be buying that crap, though. Without The Bake Shoppe, there’s nowhere in town that people can go to just buy regular baking.” He rolled his shoulders. Erin was struck by how tall he was. Had he played basketball in school? He appeared too heavy for a basketball player, but he might have been slim as a boy. “Other than the grocery store,” he amended, sneering over the words. “But I mean… assembly-line bread…”

  “Yeah. It’s just not the same as handcrafted.”

  “Handcrafted,” he repeated. “Yeah.”

  She could almost hear him making a mental note of the word to use in his own ad copy. It irked her. She turned away from him slightly.

  “Well, I need to head for home,” she told him. “You know how early a baker’s day starts.”

  “I remember,” Trenton agreed, his voice far away. He had lived at home before Angela had developed the allergies that prevented her from entering her own place of business. She had been the head baker, and Trenton could, presumably, remember how early she had had to get up to bake before the day started.

  Erin meanly hoped that he didn’t like to get up early. That that one thing might be enough to change his mind and make him decide that it wasn’t worth his while to reopen the bakery. He could sell it instead. Just take the money and get back out of town. He had run away from Bald Eagle Falls before. He didn’t want to live there. The place held bad memories for him. Melissa had told Erin what kind of a mother Angela was, always belittling her children, humiliating them. She had been a bully. Why would Trenton want to come back to Bald Eagle Falls and relive those memories? Why would he want to see the people he hadn’t seen in twenty years, who would also remember those incidents and how ineffectual he had been back then?

  Erin slid into the car. “I guess I’ll see you around, then.”

  “I guess so.”

  Erin pulled her door shut with a bang and pulled back, leaving him there in the parking lot, watching her. Vic didn’t say anything right away, so the inside of the car was silent, filled with just the noise of the Challenger’s engine and air conditioning.

  “Are you okay?” Vic asked eventually.

  “Sure, I’m fine.”

  Vic didn’t push it any further. Erin knew Vic didn’t believe it. Erin didn’t know exactly what it was she was feeling. She was okay; that hadn’t been a lie. No matter what, she would find a way to continue. She’d been through a lot worse. She was adaptable.

  When they pulled in front of the house, Vic looked at Erin again.

  “You’re okay? With Uncle Trent reopening The Bake Shoppe? Isn’t that going to cause you problems?”

  “We’ll lose some of our customer base. But we’ll figure it out. I’m sure we can keep things going.”

  Getting out of the car, Erin resolved to put the whole incident behind her and to think of other things. There was no need to mope around all evening being miserable about it. She would think things through later. Make a list.

  As soon as she opened the door to the house, Orange Blossom was there, trying to tangle up her feet, making eager noises of greeting and yowling for her attention. No one had told him that cats were supposed to be laid-back and composed. She felt bad sometimes for leaving him alone all day. He clearly missed them. He was a good boy and didn’t chew up her shoes or claw up the furniture while she was gone. But he made such a fuss when they got home. Erin put down her purse and a bag of day-old goods and scooped him up.

  “Did you miss us, Blossom?” she crooned, holding him in her arms and pressing her face into his fur. Orange Blossom wriggled and bumped his head against her. His car-motor purr filled the room.

  “I think that’s a yes,” Vic observed.

  “Yeah. You did miss us, didn’t you, baby?”

  Vic stood close and scratched Orange Blossom’s ears, getting in on all the loving.

  “What’s all this?” a deeper voice inquired.

  Erin didn’t need to turn around to see who was there. She knew that voice. But she did anyway, smiling at Terry, the handsome, dark-haired cop who stood looking in the door, which Vic hadn’t pulled shut behind her.

  “Come on in,” Erin invited, swinging the door back open the rest of the way.

  “You really shouldn’t leave your door open,” Terry teased. “Anyone could walk in off the street.”

  “Like Trenton Plaint? I already met him.”

  Terry and K9, his German Shepherd, entered and Terry pulled the door shut behind him. He gave Erin a quick little shoulder-squeeze in greeting.

  “Ow, ow!” Erin tried to detach all of Orange Blossom’s needle-sharp claws. “Calm down, you silly cat! You know K9.”

  But despite regular visits from Terry, the kitten still hadn’t made friends with the dog. He writhed to be put down. Erin let him jump down to the rug and dash off. Erin shook her head.

  “He just wants to be friends,” Terry apologized, holding on to K9’s collar to keep him from going after the cat. “Do you want me to leave him outside?”

  “No. I know he’ll behave himself. Orange Blossom is just going to have to get used to him coming with you to visit. He will sooner or later… won’t he?”

  Officer Piper was the one who actually had experience with cats. Erin had never had a pet before. Terry nodded.

  “He’ll come around sooner or later.” He motioned toward the furniture grouping in the living room. “You want to put your feet up?”

  “No. Food.”

  They all headed to the kitchen, where Orange Blossom sat by his food dish, staring into it intently.

  “Now you’re going to sulk?” Erin asked.

  The cat didn’t even flick an ear in her direction.

  They all went in different directions, feeling at home in the kitchen. Erin went into the pantry to get fresh food for Orange Blossom’s bowl. Vic went to the freezer for something to warm up for supper. Terry sat down at the table with K9 beside him. The dog stretched out on the floor with a snort and a deep sigh, his eyes on the cat.

  Erin added fresh food to the kitten’s bowl and he dug in, purring between gulps.

  “How did you meet Trenton Plaint?” Terry asked, settling himself into the kitchen chair and readjusting his heavy equipment belt.

  “Hmm? Oh… he caught me just now as we were leaving the shop.”

  “What did he want?”

  “I guess just to tell me he was going to reopen The Bake Shoppe.” Erin considered. “I’m not sure why he thought it necessary. But at least… now I know for sure instead of having to try to sort out the rumors.”

  Terry rubbed his chin, his whiskers rasping. “That’s sort of an aggressive move. Why would he find it necessary to confront you about it?”

  Vic had their dinners lined up at the microwave. “It was kind of weird. He didn’t threaten her or anything, but… coming up on a woman, in the dark, and telling her you’re taking half her business…”

  Terry’s mouth pulled down into a pronounced frown. “He didn’t come into the bakery? He approached you outside in the dark?”

  “Yes. But like Vic said, he wasn’t threatening. Just…”

  “Aggressive,” Terry repeated the word he had used before.

  “Yeah, I guess. Uncomfortable. A weird approach, when everyone around Bald Eagle Falls goes out of their way to be so
nice. Having someone who doesn’t even try to be pleasant about it.”

  She thought about how Angela had confronted her when she first moved into town.

  “But then, maybe it’s a family trait. Angela wasn’t exactly welcoming either.”

  Terry let out a bark of laughter. “That’s putting it mildly. No, I think you’re right, The Plaint family just doesn’t play by Bald Eagle Falls’ social rules.”

  Both Terry and Erin glanced over at Vic, remembering belatedly that Vic was part of Angela’s extended family as well.

  “Not you,” Erin said quickly. “I don’t know anyone who is nicer than you.”

  Vic gave a little shrug like it didn’t matter.

  “Really,” Erin pressed. “You’re not just pretending to be nice, which is what I get from half the women in town. You really are genuinely nice and care about people, deep down. It’s who you are.”

  Vic turned a little pink at that. “But I wasn’t raised by Aunt Angela. Maybe things would be different if I had been.”

  Erin tried to picture a Vic who was as mean as Angela. She couldn’t even imagine it.

  “Then it must be learned,” Terry contributed. “Either that, or you managed not to inherit the gene.”

  “Mmm,” Vic made a noncommittal noise. She put the first of the frozen dinners into the microwave. “Do you want anything?”

  “No, I’m fine.” Terry waved his hand. “Nothing for me.”

  As Erin moved across the kitchen to get some iced tea from the fridge, she saw K9’s head move sharply toward her, ears pricked. She stopped herself and opened the bone-shaped cookie jar on the counter. K9 sat up eagerly, nose and ears pointing at her.

  “Are you waiting for one of these?” Erin asked, her voice pitched higher to the dog. “Did I forget to offer you any hospitality?”

  K9 licked his chops. Erin reached into the cookie jar and took out a thick, homemade dog biscuit.

  Terry and Vic were both smiling as Erin offered the cookie to the eager dog. He took it from her politely and lay back down on the floor with it between his paws to eat.