Tyler and Leroy worked late into the night to get a new door on Baby Cakes Bakery. I snapped photos of the progress and uploaded them so people would know that we would be ready for business and our grand reopening, as originally planned. #GrandReopening #NoMastiffsWereHurtInThisRenovation #BabyCakesANewBisonOriginal
It didn’t take long for news of Mayor Abernathy’s death to make its rounds. News travels fast, especially in a small town. New Bison is too small to have a daily newspaper. Most residents who want daily news subscribed to the Daily Herald, a newspaper from a town about thirty minutes from New Bison with a population of fifteen thousand. The New Bison Times comes out once per week unless there’s a special occasion. Exposing the town mayor as a two-time killer constituted a special edition. The paper hailed Chris Russell as a hero. There was even talk of a medal of commendation.
“I’ll bet he started that talk himself,” Hannah said. She sat at the counter and grumbled as she read. “If anyone deserves a medal, it’s you and Baby. Y’all are the ones that took down that slimy weasel.”
I reached over and gave Hannah a hug. “Thank you. If it wasn’t for that skillet, I might not be here today.”
She grinned. “I told you. No better weapon in the world than a good cast-iron skillet.”
After Leroy finished with the door, he insisted on going to a twenty-four-hour grocery and stocking up on baking supplies. Then he went to work.
“You should get some rest,” I told him.
“I’ve done nothing but rest for the past couple of days. I need to bake.” He grinned. “Besides, we’ve got to fill those display cases.”
Hannah brought pies, two caramel cakes, two Chocolate Soul Cakes, and dozens of cookies. Those cases were filling up quickly.
I baked lemon squares, thumbprint cookies, lemon meringue pies, and peanut butter cookies. Baking was a great distraction. It kept my mind off Clayton Davenport and Sybil Castleton’s murders and my near murder. More importantly, it kept my mind off the fact that the Admiral would be in town later today. I wasn’t sure Baby, me, or New Bison were ready for a full-on naval invasion, but we had little choice in the matter. Once he’d made up his mind, he wouldn’t change. The Admiral was coming.
Candy started the morning by bringing a carafe of complimentary coffee and what she assured me was only the first of many red eyes. “I owe you big-time. Mr. Russell confirmed that since Carla Lattimore wasn’t Marjorie Rivers, she didn’t have any legal claim to Paul’s property.”
“Mr. Russell?” I sipped my red eye and felt the caffeine flowing through my veins. “You’re being rather formal with someone you’re . . . dating, aren’t you?”
Candy’s checks flushed with color. “We aren’t dating anymore.”
“Oh?”
“It’s still pretty early after Paul’s . . . you know . . . murder. I need some time.”
“Good idea.” I wondered if this was Chris Russell’s idea or Candy’s. Either way, Tyler would be happy.
“Hey, you know how much I love Baby, right?”
“Sure.” I wasn’t sure where this was heading, but I hoped she wasn’t going to ask what I thought she was.
“Well, my mom worries about me a lot since I moved out. Then, with the murders and everything, well, I was thinking maybe I should get a dog, like Baby. So, I was wondering if you were planning on keeping Daisy?”
“I don’t know. I hadn’t really—”
“She’s just the sweetest dog.”
“Clayton Davenport bought her. So, I guess technically she belongs to April. You should ask her.”
“I did. She said she was okay with it as long as you were. I promise I would take great care of her, and she’d just be next door, so you and Baby could spend as much time with her as you wanted and—”
“Yes.”
Candy stopped with her mouth hanging open, prepared to beg longer. “Really?”
“Yes. I think you’d give Daisy a great home.”
She clapped like a small kid, threw her arms around my neck, and squealed. “I’m so excited. This is just the best day ever. You can have all the free red eyes you want.”
I laughed. “You may not want to promise that. I’d hate to bankrupt you.”
She literally bounced in her seat with joy. “I can’t wait to go shopping. I saw the cutest pink collar at the pet store, and I’m going to paint her nails and put big pink ribbons in her ears. Daisy is going to be the most stylish mastiff in all of New Bison . . . no, in all of Michigan.”
“I’m sure she will.” I was happy to hear that Daisy was going to get a new home. “Did Michael tell you about her heart condition?”
Candy’s eyes teared up, and she fanned to stop from crying. “He did. That poor thing. I’m sorry she won’t get to make babies with Baby, but he said he will make sure she has a good long life. And I intend to make sure that however long she has, that it’ll be happy.”
Now, it was my turn to get teary-eyed. Big dogs like mastiffs didn’t live as long as smaller ones, and with a heart condition, Daisy’s time could be even shorter. I was glad to know that she was going to have a full life with someone who cared about her as much as Candy did. Plus, Baby would be happy to have his friend nearby.
Michael brought Baby home last night. After a good night’s sleep, Baby was back to his normal, goofy self. None of his abrasions required stitches, and apart from antibiotic ointment that needed to be applied twice every day for five days, he was as good as gold.
I ordered a second dog bed for the bakery, and Baby curled up and slept while Hannah, Leroy, and I tended to the crowds. And it was crowded. I was glad to see that many of the same people who patronized Baby Cakes also stopped by Higher Grounds Coffee and Tea. New Bison might be a small town, but every town needs a good coffee shop.
Fear of a second bakery in New Bison faded when April learned that one of the real estate properties that Clayton Davenport had hurriedly put in her name to avoid tax implications, was Garrett Kelley’s old bookstore. She wasn’t sure what to do with the building yet, but the one thing it would not be was another bakery. The Belgian pastry chef was already on his way back to Belgium. I hoped one day April would turn the building into a flower shop. For now, she was still the sheriff.
Both April and Trooper Bob were still looking for Carla. So far, she’d managed to elude the law, but I had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last we’d see of her.
The Spring Festival kicked off with a bang. I didn’t know if the crowds were due to curiosity about the renovations or the desire to see a real-life crime scene. Whatever the reason, the public’s curiosity was piqued. At various points, the line for Baby Cakes Bakery was down the block. When the Spring Festival Committee stopped by to get the Baby Cakes entry into the baking competition, I turned in my new creation. I called it Peanut Butter Dream Cake. It was a combination of Aunt Octavia’s Chocolate Soul Cake and Leroy’s peanut butter cookies.
I didn’t expect to win, so when the committee brought the blue ribbon, I was genuinely shocked. I ugly-cried like a baby. Michael held me close while I blubbered. Baby stood on his hind legs and licked my face until I was covered in mastiff drool and tears, but I didn’t care. I snapped a picture of the ribbon. #CarryingOnTheTradition #PeanutButterDream #Living-MyBestLife #NewBisonSpringFestival #LetEmEatCake
