Suddenly I questioned the wisdom of going to Floured Grounds. I knew that the moment I walked into the shop, Maelynn would take one look at my face and know something was wrong, and that was if she hadn’t already heard through the rumor mill. She probably had by now.

  Straw bales stood on either side of the coffee shop’s front door, lined with white and more traditional orange pumpkins. Maelynn had what I called a pumpkin obsession, and she’d started selling pumpkin-flavored everything at the coffee shop the day after Labor Day and would continue it through the end of the year. She also decorated aggressively with the gourds. There was no question what her favorite member of the squash family was.

  The pumpkin-shaped bell on the door rang as I entered. The shop was half full. It was early afternoon, so there was a smattering of young moms there with strollers, and a few businessmen and women who used Floured Grounds as their personal office space. A group of knitters sat in one corner and chattered as their needles dipped in and out of their spools of yarn.

  “Oh my God, you’re alive!” Maelynn cried, and put a hand on her flawless brown cheek. My friend had a gorgeous complexion; as a teenager, I’d envied it. Who was I kidding? I envied her now. She was the most beautiful person I had ever seen in real life, but the funny thing was, she had no idea. She didn’t know her curly black hair and piercing dark eyes were so striking.

  Her husband Justin did, though, and I knew it, because if he was in the same room with Maelynn, she was his focus. She had married her high school sweetheart and, as a result, lived vicariously through my troublesome dating life. Maelynn loved a project, and I made a perfect one.

  She blamed Austin for everything that went wrong in our relationship. Maybe that wasn’t fair, but it was girl code. The guy was always wrong in girl code.

  She hurried over to me and covered her mouth. “I’m sorry; that was a poor choice of words. I can’t believe you’re here! I mean, I’m glad you’re here.” She pulled me in for a quick, hard hug. “I’ve been calling and texting ever since I heard the news.” She lowered her voice. “About Samantha. I’m so, so sorry.”

  I swallowed. There were those tears again, threatening to spill over. “Thank you.”

  “I even stopped by the agency and you weren’t there,” she said and enveloped me in another embrace. She smelled like coconut and coffee. “I wanted to go back again and sit on your porch until you came home, but Justin said I should give you some time. It must have been a terrible shock.”

  “It was,” I admitted.

  She glanced at the people in the coffee shop, and they were all staring at me with open mouths. Did they think, as the police did, that I’d killed Samantha? Was that what everyone was saying in the town? Had it already gone that far?

  “Here.” She tugged on my arm. “Have a seat at the counter and let me make you a latte.” She examined me. “I know you’re on a health food kick, but you are getting a dulce de leche, extra cream.”

  It had been so long since I had let myself have a sugary drink from Maelynn’s shop, and at the moment, it sounded like just what the doctor ordered. “Okay.” I took a breath. “It’s bad, Mae. So bad.”

  “You cared about Samantha a lot, and you must be worried about the future of the business too.”

  I folded my hands on top of the table and clenched them together until the knuckles turned white. “It’s not just that I’m sad. It’s more complicated than that.”

  “The business, of course, but you will get it sorted. You always do.” She put four pumps of caramel into the drink for me. It was going to be way too sweet. “But you lost a friend. We all lost a friend in Herrington last night. It’s so awful. I always said something should be done about that turn.”

  I bit my tongue and wondered if I should tell Maelynn it was more than an accident: it was murder, and I was the main suspect. I wasn’t sure I could deal with her shock, when I was still recovering from mine.

  I’d never told Maelynn about Samantha’s plan to dissolve the agency. I hadn’t told anyone. I’d been hoping it would fall through and go away. Yeah, it had gone away now, but not in the way I’d wished.

  “It’s so much worse than I imagined,” I said. “Much worse than anyone could have imagined.”

  She glanced around. There was no one else at the counter. “Tell me. I can help you.”

  I thought about this for a moment. I needed an ally, and Maelynn was my best friend. Even though there was no one around who might hear us, I was afraid to even utter the words in the lightest of whispers. I swallowed. “The police said she was murdered.” I paused. “And I’m the number-one suspect.”

  “What?” Maelynn yelled.

  Now everyone in the coffee shop was staring at us. Half of them were tourists. The other half were locals. I was more worried about the local reaction.

  I waved at everyone. “I told her that her favorite ice cream was being discontinued. Nothing to see here.”

  “I can’t believe this,” Maelynn said, not registering my made-up story about the ice cream at all. “Are you sure it was murder?” She asked this in her normal speaking voice, which was admittedly louder than the average person’s.

  “Shh, do you want everyone in town to hear you? Because I sure don’t.”

  “How do you know this?” she whispered.

  “It’s the direction the evidence is going, and it’s what the police believe happened.” I swallowed.

  “Which police officer? They all come to the café for their daily coffee, and I want to know which one of them will be getting decaf because he or she thinks you could kill someone.”

  I made a face.

  “It was Austin, wasn’t it? That toad. No, he’s lower than a toad. He’s a fly a toad eats. No, lower. He’s—”

  I held up my hand. “I get the idea.”

  She slapped her hand on the counter and got more strange looks from people in the coffee shop. “I’m really upset about that ice cream. It was my favorite flavor!” she said as loudly as she could without shouting. Then, more quietly, she said to me, “Austin said this to you, and to think I believed the two of you should get back together. Next time I see him, I will give him a piece of my mind, and he’s never getting full caf here again.”

  “Please don’t. The evidence is very clear. That’s not Austin’s fault. He’s doing his job, and I think he needs the caffeine to keep at it.” I pressed my hands on the counter.

  “I can blame him if I want to, and I do.”

  I suppressed a smile. Despite the horrible day it’d been, it was nice to know my best friend had my back. Even so, I had to temper her enthusiasm for making Austin’s life miserable.

  “He was doing his job,” I said again, a little less forcefully this time.

  She reached across the counter and squeezed my hand. “I know this will get sorted out. Who better to find out what happened than you? You’re the crack detective in this town.”

  I wished it were true, but finding lost pets and exposing sleazy business partners was a lot different than finding a killer. I didn’t share this doubt with Maelynn, though. One of us needed to be confident in my abilities.

  “You’re right,” I said. “If the police think it’s me, I’m going to do my job and find out what really happened. It’s all I can do. I’m a detective.”

  “Darn straight.” She pumped her fist and then dropped her arm. “Do you know how to solve a murder?”

  “The principles of deduction are the same, and I can’t sit back and wait for Austin and the police to come to the right conclusion. I knew Samantha better than anyone. I spent more time with her than anyone else did. If anyone might be able to sort out what happened that night, it will be me.”

  A customer came up to the counter, and Maelynn held up a finger to me. “Hold that thought.”

  She rang up the customer and made his drink. All the while, I made a mental list of the people I needed to talk to and the places I needed to visit to follow Samantha’s last movements. I had a greater sense of urgency, too. I didn’t know when Tate would learn about his inheritance. When he did, that could change everything for me at the agency.

  Maelynn thanked the customer for coming in and returned to me at the end of the counter. “What are you going to tell your parents?”

  My parents had not been on the list of people to talk to.

  “Why do I need to tell them anything?”

  She cocked her head. “Girl, your mother is at the library right now probably hearing about Samantha’s accident from five different patrons. I’m surprised she hasn’t called you yet.”

  “I don’t think—”

  I was interrupted by my cell phone ringing. I pulled it out of my pocket and saw it was my mom’s private line at the library. I showed Maelynn the screen.

  She folded her arms across her chest. “Told you.”

  “I’m not sure I can deal with talking to her about this just yet. You know how she can be.” I loved my mother, but she definitely was nosy with a capital N. She wanted to know everything about everything. I suspected that was why she’d chosen to be a librarian. She spent her days looking for information. She also wanted to know the most about her two daughters. She wouldn’t rest until she had all the facts about what would happen.

  In truth, I was the apple that didn’t fall far from the tree. I was a private eye, after all. My career centered on finding the facts, too.

  The call went to voicemail. My phone immediately began to ring again.

  “If you don’t pick up, she will keep calling until she drives you insane.” She scooped the phone from my fingers. “Hello, Mrs. Piper,” Maelynn said into the phone. “No… No… Darby is fine. She is…umm…dealing with the police right now, but…”

  I groaned. I didn’t think Maelynn telling my mom that I was “dealing with the police” would be much comfort.

  “Right…Right… I’ll be sure to tell her to call you when she’s free… You bet… I know, it’s so sad… Okay…bye.”

  Maelynn ended the call and handed the phone back to me. “You owe me one.”

  I wrapped my hands around my mug. “I know. Thank you. You’re the best friend any girl could have.”

  She nodded. “Don’t you forget it, but I won’t be able to put your mother off forever.”

  I nodded. “I know. I’m going to talk to my parents about it. I just need a little more time before I’m inundated with questions.”

  “Understandable. Is there anything I can do for you? I mean, other than feed you sugar and coffee all day?”

  “Actually, there is.” I went on to tell her about Samantha’s funeral. “She didn’t ask for it in her plans, but I would really like to have a wake, or more a celebration-of-life party for her. I feel like I need to do more.”

  She held up her hand. “Say no more. I’m on it. We will have the party right here after the funeral. I’ll take care of it. You don’t have to think about a single thing. Just let me know when the funeral will be.”

  I stood up. “Thank you, Maelynn. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I have to get going on this case. It’s the biggest of my life.”

  “You barely touched your latte,” she said in dismay. “Let me put it in a to-go cup for you, and you need to eat something. Justin made a fresh batch of your favorite orange scones as soon as we heard the news. He felt so bad for you. He went to the market to pick up a few things. I know he’ll be sad to have missed you.”

  She removed a scone from the display case and tucked it in a small brown paper bag. “If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

  I took the bag from her hand, and she leaned over the counter and kissed me on the cheek. “We’ll get through this.”

  I nodded and tears sprang to my eyes, making speech impossible. I exited, taking my latte and scone with me.

  Chapter Eleven

  I had made it to the sidewalk outside of Floured Grounds when I heard brisk footsteps behind me.

  “Darby Piper, I need to talk to you.”

  I turned around to find a very angry Logan Montgomery standing just four feet from me.

  Logan was a self-made man who owned a small chain of local gyms in western New York, and he was also on Herrington’s town council. In his fifties, with silver hair and the physique of a man who worked out every day of his life, which he did, Logan was handsome. I’d thought that he and Samantha had worked because they were both small business owners and because neither one of them had ever talked about the need or desire to get married. Even so, I’d thought they were happy, which was why I had been so surprised when she said they had broken up.

  Before I could say anything, he asked, “Did you send the cops to my house?”

  I blinked. “What?”

  “Officer Louter said you were the one who told them Samantha and I had broken up.”

  I didn’t say anything. In my line of work, I had learned to wait and see what the other person had to say before speaking my mind. It served me well when dealing with criminals.

  He threw his hands in the air. “How could you mislead them like that? Now they’re looking at me as a suspect.”

  I felt a little bit of relief when he said that. At least I wasn’t the only suspect as far as the police were concerned.

  “Samantha said the two of you broke up,” I said.

  “We weren’t broken up. We were on a break. All couples have breaks.”

  I knew that wasn’t true, even if my own experience with Austin wasn’t a good example. “The police have to look everywhere to find out who did this to her. Don’t you want them to catch the person?”

  He closed his eyes for a moment. “Of course I want that. I loved Samantha. I’m heartbroken over what happened.” He reopened his eyes.

  I studied him. There was no evidence of tears. He didn’t look that heartbroken to me. “How did you find out?”

  “The police stormed into a town council meeting this morning and practically accused me of running her off the road!”

  I winced. “Officer Louter did that?”

  “Yes, it was Louter,” he snapped.

  I wasn’t surprised. Louter liked to make a scene and throw around his authority as a police officer. In a small town like Herrington, there wasn’t much opportunity for that except with the rebel kids smoking outside the high school.

  “Where were you last night?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Do you think I’m a suspect, too?”

  “The boyfriend—or in this case, ex-boyfriend—is always a suspect.” I took a step back. “I don’t have to tell you that.”

  He glared at me. “I was at home. Alone with my dog.”

  The dog wouldn’t make any better a witness for him than my cat Gumshoe did to prove I was home when Samantha was killed.

  He took two steps toward me. “Stop and think before you point fingers, Darby. If you’re not careful, you could get burned.”

  I scowled up at him and refused to step back further. “Are you threatening me?”

  “No, I’m warning you.” He pushed me aside and stomped away, and for the first time, I actually thought Logan was capable of murder.

  By the time I made it back to the agency, I was more than a little shaken. Inside the reception room, Gumshoe blinked at me, and I blinked back. How much time did I have before Tate found out that most of the agency and most of the building I stood in would be his?

  I called Nat, who answered on the third ring. There was an audible sniffle. “Oh, Darby, I don’t know what we are going to do without Samantha. She was the heart of that place.”

  “I know.”

  “Is it true the police think she was murdered?”

  “That’s what they told me,” I said.

  “Do they think you’re responsible?”

  I pang a stab in my chest. “Why do you ask that?”

  “I mean, they probably figure you have the most to gain from Samantha’s death—the agency and the house you live in.” She sniffled again. “Another officer stopped by and asked me when was the last time I saw your car.”

  My breath caught. “What did you say?”

  “That I couldn’t remember. You hardly ever drive it.”

  The knot in my stomach that had been there on and off all day returned.

  “I know you didn’t do it, and I told the police that,” she went on before I could reply.

  “Who was the officer who asked you about the car?”

  “Austin Caster. He interviewed me an hour ago. He had a lot of questions about your relationship with Samantha. I told him he should already know the answers to most of those questions, since the two of you—er—well, you know.”

  I did.

  “I know this is tough, Nat,” I said. “It’s tough for both of us. Can you come to work tomorrow?”

  “Of course.”

  “Good. I need your help. Tate Porter is in town.”

  “Samantha’s nephew. I forgot about him. What’s he doing in Herrington? How’d he get here so fast? How long has he been here?”

  The stomach knot tightened just a little. They were all good questions and ones I could’ve asked Tate when I’d stumbled upon him in Samantha’s house. Had he been here long enough to steal my car and run his aunt off the road?

  “He never paid much attention to his aunt,” Nat went on to say. “After she raised him, too. It was a disgrace.”

  I took a breath and told her what Patrick had revealed to me about the will.

  “What?” she yelled in my ear.

  Nat was still in the middle of a rant over Samantha’s will when I hung up. I hoped she would get most of her objections out of her system before she came into work the next day. I wasn’t happy about this turn of events, either, but all we could do was accept it and prepare for what came next. I went back to searching for a reason that someone would want to kill Samantha.