Wining and Dying by Daryl Wood Gerber

Author:Daryl Wood Gerber [Gerber, Daryl Wood]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mysteries & Thrillers
Publisher: Beyond the Page
Published: 2021-04-08T00:00:00+00:00

• • •

On the way back to the Cookbook Nook, I decided to swing by Home Sweet Home and pick up the orange plush kitten I’d ordered. Brianna had a cat at home named Hershey, who when first adopted had been a bully cat but now was a pussycat. However, she didn’t have any cats among her plush toys. I knew because I’d stealthily scoped them out on my last visit to Bailey’s house.

I parked in a spot across the street and jaywalked past a pair of female festivalgoers carrying items that they had purchased at one of the venues.

One hoisted her four-pack of wine bottles and said, “When we get back to the B and B, we are opening one of these and toasting your official divorce. You are well rid of him.”

“Amen,” the divorcée said.

I stepped into Home Sweet Home and paused, drinking in the colorful, festive array of items. It was a yummy store offering potpourri and candles, handmade crafts, linens, baby gifts, and collectibles. Willie Nelson singing “Always on My Mind” played softly through speakers. The aroma of hot apple cider hung in the air as it did all year. Flora adored cider and sold bags of her never-fail cinnamon spice mix.

Per usual, customers were gathered near the year-round Christmas tree to find Crystal Cove–themed ornaments. For this week alone, Flora had allocated a third of the tree for festival artists so they could sell their ornaments on consignment. A few of the handblown glass ones caught my eye, but not willing to be diverted, I made a beeline for Flora, who was helping a guest near the rear of the store.

She held up a finger, the universal sign for Just a sec.

While waiting, I spied Pepper chatting up Sienna near the baby section. Both wore cardigans over sheath dresses. Each was holding up a layette of infant T-shirts, onesies, and more. Pepper’s was pink and Sienna’s aqua green. I sidled behind a customer and peeked around her. Sienna’s shopping basket, which was slung over one arm, was filled with more aqua green baby items. I pondered the implication but told myself to cool my jets. She could be buying things for a sister or a friend. Shopping for baby clothes was not exclusively a mother’s ritual. And Pepper, who did not have a shopping basket, was probably browsing in the hope that Cinnamon was, indeed, pregnant.

“Here you go.” Flora offered me a gift bag with a bright yellow bow and pale yellow tissue paper poking from the top. “There’s a gift tag attached to the handle, unless you want to purchase a larger card.”

“This is fine. Thanks.” I hitched my chin toward the far end of the shop. “Sienna looks like she’s enjoying herself.”

Flora sniffed. “She’s been in nearly every day for the past two weeks and hasn’t bought a thing.”

“Her basket looks full.”

“She fills it every time,” Flora said. “And then she abandons it.”

Because she wasn’t sure she was pregnant? Or was she contemplating some other option?

“She looks good,” I said.

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