Against the Currant by Olivia Matthews

Author:Olivia Matthews [Matthews, Olivia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group
Published: 2023-01-01T06:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 19

Confrontations. I’ve tried to avoid them all my life. So it was even more absurd that I was suspected of killing Claudio because of an argument. One of the few times I stood up for myself, I ended up a person of interest in a homicide investigation.

“Just take a deep breath and open the door.” Reena’s calm advice repeated over the cell phone. It was as though she could see me, standing frozen on the sidewalk in front of the shoe store next to Claudio’s bakery late Friday morning. The bakery had reopened after being closed for five days in observance of Claudio’s death. Had it only been five days ago that Claudio had been found murdered? It felt like a month. At least.

“I heard you the first time.” But I still couldn’t move. I stood and stared at the bakery instead.

The building was a basic cement structure. Black iron bars clung to its glass entrance. A large, empty display window glared at the neighborhood. Signage stretching across the top of its façade read “Claudio’s Baked Goods” in bold black cursive against a plain white background. Based on the little I knew of him, the store reflected Claudio well: unimaginative, unwelcoming, and abrupt. OK, that was uncharitable.

The bakery’s name made it seem as though it was all about Claudio, not his family or his culture. My bakery was my dream, but I dreamed it because of my family and wanted it to reflect my culture. What had motivated Claudio? Vanity? Or was I judging him too harshly?

“All right. I’m going in.” I squared my shoulders.

“Good luck. Holler back.”

“I will.” I ended the call.

With grim determination, I took a deep breath as Reena had suggested and strode forward. I lifted my hand toward the door—then froze. The nape of my neck burned as though warning me I was being watched. Turning from the bakery, I swept my gaze up and down the street. A dozen pedestrians and even more cars were within view of Claudio’s shop. Any one or more of them could be watching me either consciously or unconsciously. Or I could be imagining things.

I shook off the discomforting feeling and pushed the bakery’s door open. Similar to Spice Isle Bakery, a bell chimed, announcing my entrance. Enzo ignored it.

Was he here alone? The last time I’d been here, which was some time ago, Claudio had had two or three employees to help with the store. Where were they?

The shop was silent. No music. No laughter. Not even a whisper of conversation. Of course, it was just after ten in the morning and there was only one other customer. Business at Spice Isle Bakery slowed around this time, too. That made it easier for me to leave Granny to handle the register on her own. And people may not know Claudio’s had reopened.

As I waited for Enzo to notice me, I took in the surroundings. The bakery was spotless but didn’t feel welcoming. Claudio had decorated it with a simple black-and-white pattern: floor tile, wall accents, and ceiling fixtures.

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