Sweets And Secrets Cozy Mysteries 01 - Folk Tales and Fudge Brownies by A.R. Winters

Author:A.R. Winters
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2020-09-02T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

A fter spending the afternoon at the festival and then dealing with Roy all evening, I’d gone home and slept like a rock. But even though I’d been mentally and physically exhausted—I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d slept for so many uninterrupted hours—my mind hadn’t stopped racing.

I’d had dreams of Bigfoot, of Kevin, of Roy. I’d had dreams of being chased by mobs of Sasquatch hunters who seemed to always be just a few feet behind me.

I needed to get away, out of the house and away from all of the endless mysteries and questions that were still swirling around in my head. I had to get to the bakery.

That was my escape. My safe place where I knew I could talk about whatever I wanted—or nothing at all, if I wanted—and get wise, spot-on advice from someone who had crammed more living into her long life than I could even comprehend.

“Oh, dear.” Aunt Betsy raised her eyebrows as I walked in through the front door of the bakery. “I almost didn’t recognize you coming in through that door. You look tired, Jean. Did you have trouble sleeping?”

“The opposite, actually.” I shrugged. “I guess I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately.”

“You always did take the world’s problems onto your shoulders, dear.” She smiled and patted the seat next to her at the little bistro table where she was having her morning coffee. “Even as a little girl, you used to see those pet adoption commercials and cry because you couldn’t save all the puppies. Such a sweet child.”

I didn’t remember any of that, but I didn’t doubt it. I still wanted to adopt all the puppies.

“It isn’t the world’s problems this time.” I sighed. “But I guess they weren’t exactly my problems either. Sometimes, it just feels like you have to get involved. Does that make sense?”

“Of course.” She winked. “You’re talking to a world-class worrier. I’ve just mellowed a little in my old age.”

I had to smile. Of all the words I would have used to describe Aunt Betsy, mellow would not have even been on the list. Then again, I wouldn’t have necessarily labeled her a worrier either.

“How did you do it?” I asked. “How did you stop worrying so much, I mean?”

She thought for a moment. “First, you need to ask yourself if it’s any of your business. Does the thing you’re worrying about have anything to do with you? Does your worrying even make a difference?”

I thought back to Kevin McKnight. I thought about the hair sample and Jim and Colt. I thought about Roy and his plan. I thought about the Richardsons and Old Man Lawrence.

Had any of my worrying made a difference? Nothing was going to bring Kevin back. Had any of the other things been worth the time and effort I’d put in?

“I’m not sure, honestly. When Mr. McKnight ended up on our back porch that night he got attacked, it felt like I had an obligation to help.

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