Read Inherit the Word (The Cookbook Nook Series) for Free Online Page B

café,” I argued.
    “And my shop is in Fisherman’s Village,” Pepper said. “I want to know what’s going on.”
    Cinnamon said, “The alley is public property.”
    “Okay, I’ll grant you that, but—” I peeked over Cinnamon’s shoulder and gulped.
    Pepper gagged, made a U-turn, and raced away.
    I said, “Is she—”
    “Dead?” Cinnamon said. “Yes.”
    Natalie Mumford lay slumped against the far wall, her hair mussed, her head bloody. I gulped, but I couldn’t pull my gaze away. Natalie’s blue dress hugged her thighs; her legs were splayed. Her clutch purse lay open, out of reach. A grooved panini sandwich grill about the size of an extra-large waffle iron rested beside Natalie’s shoulder.
    “Are you kidding me?” I said. “Someone hit her upside the—” I pressed my lips together. The other day at The Pier, when Lola and Natalie had verbally sparred, Lola warned that Natalie should be careful or someone would hit her upside the head with a frying pan. Everyone there had heard Lola say it.
    Cinnamon cut me a look. “What?” I could tell the wheels of her super-sharp brain were trying to piece together a puzzle. “Jenna, answer me.”
    “Nothing.”
    Cinnamon waited for more. I didn’t oblige her. I couldn’t implicate Lola.
    “You look pale,” Cinnamon said. “You’re in shock. Go back to the shop. Drink some water. And whatever you do, keep what you’ve seen under wraps. My team is on its way. When they’re on task, I’ll question the group.” Her command of a situation astounded me. Was she made of steel? She added, “I’m so sorry this had to happen today.”
    “Or ever.”
    “Right.”
    Natalie Mumford may have been an overly confident, semi-nasty woman, but she hadn’t deserved to die.
    Cinnamon ran a hand down the length of her neck. “Go on.” She returned to the scene and knelt beside Natalie. I’m pretty sure she thought I was gone when she grasped Natalie’s wrist and said, “You poor thing,” under her breath.
    I returned to the shop and found Aunt Vera sitting on the stool behind the sales counter petting Tigger with long, rhythmic strokes. My aunt appeared in shock; Tigger looked like he was in heaven. Oh, to be as oblivious as he was.
    Mayor Zeller joined us. She unbuttoned the single button on her blazer and leaned forward, elbows on the counter. “Well?” she said. “What happened?”
    Minding our police chief’s caution not to reveal details, I said, “Natalie’s dead. Someone hit her.”
    “Heavens.” The mayor’s eyes filled with tears. “Hit her? Why?”
    “I don’t know.”
    After a lengthy silence, the mayor said, “Will you have to close the shop?”
    “I’m not sure. Chief Pritchett said the alley was public property.”
    “The horror,” Aunt Vera said. “What if this scares off customers? What if—”
    “It won’t.” I rested my hand on my aunt’s shoulder. “No one will blame us.”
    “She’s right, Vera,” the mayor said. “And I’m not ending the Grill Fest simply because of this. Natalie would be appalled if I did. She—” Her voice caught. “It’s a tragedy, but Natalie would be the first to say, ‘The show . . .’” She twirled a finger to gesture
must go on.
    “Two murders in such a short time span,” Aunt Vera said. She was referring to the shocking murder of my friend, a celebrity chef, last month. “What is this world coming to?”
    “We’re no less vulnerable to crime than the rest of the world,” Mayor Zeller said. “That’s why I will continue to promote our fair town and keep our police force one of the most vital in the state.”
    In the hallway that linked the café to the shop, two women started shouting at each other. I recognized both voices. Pepper and Lola.
    “You did it,” Pepper yelled. “You killed Natalie Mumford.”
    “I did no such thing,” Lola responded.
    “During the break, right before the alarm sounded, I saw you heading into the café area.”
    Though we could hear