Bear Witness to Murder Page 2

  “Mm.”

  “Uh-oh. Speak of the devil,” Maddie said, and nodded toward the front door.

  I peeked around the doorway to see my ex-husband, Flynn Hanson, waltz into the parlor. He made a beeline for Holly’s table. Gina Lawson must have been expecting him, since she rose to her feet, arms folded over her ample chest. They exchanged heated words, from what little I could see after taking a tray of fresh scones across the room. But everyone witnessed Gina and Flynn marching over to the mayor’s table before handing him a sheet of paper.

  “Mr. Mayor, this is a copy of the court summons I filed on behalf of my client, Ms. Gina Lawson,” Flynn said. “This serves as notice of a debt collection complaint against you—”

  “And I shall answer with a countersuit,” Bloom interrupted. “If Ms. Lawson continues this ridiculous claim, she will lose. I owe her nothing, Mr. Hanson. You could have served this at any time, but here? At a teddy bear party with children present? That’s a bit dramatic.”

  “Whoa,” Maddie whispered to me. “Didn’t expect fireworks here of all places.”

  I noticed the very pregnant Lisa Blake, who’d been sitting at a nearby table with her two little boys, rise unsteadily to her feet. She herded the kids toward the door; they clutched their bears, restless and fidgety, ready to leave early. Holly cut off their retreat, however. I kept an eye on them while also watching the exchange between Flynn, Gina, and Mayor Bloom, whose voices had dropped. Cal Bloom snatched the paper from Flynn in disgust and departed without a backward glance. His wife followed, pushing her mother’s wheelchair.

  Gina and Flynn headed for the farthest corner of the back room. Now that Lisa Blake had departed, Holly waved a hand toward Gina and Flynn. “Hard to believe she’s going after the mayor, huh?” she asked me before I could escape. “I’ve seen the new television commercials, the ones with ‘Flynn Wins,’ pretty much every morning. He’s a pistol, all right. I’ve heard Hanson’s the star of the Legal Eagles team, and they’re going gangbusters since he joined them.”

  “Uh. Yeah,” I said and glanced at my sister, now busy chatting with a friend in the back parlor. Maddie was out of range to rescue me. “Yeah, I know all about the Legal Eagles. Excuse me, but we’ve got to bring out the desserts.”

  I retreated to the kitchen. Maddie beat me to the doorway, however. Gina and Flynn still had their heads together, and Holly soon joined them. My sister pulled me out of sight beyond the swinging doors. She waved her cell phone in triumph.

  “That red-haired woman, Gina Lawson? She’s trouble. Mark my words.”

  Chapter 2

  “What?”

  “I’ll explain later, okay? We’ve got work to do.”

  Inside the kitchen, we found Trina Wentworth at the prep table arranging the last plate of iced cookies from Fresh Grounds. She placed a row of chocolate tarts around the outer edge and then waved to the cook who headed out the back door.

  “Here I thought you were getting tea cakes from the village bakery,” she said. “Pretty in Pink, isn’t it? I adore their striped awning.”

  “The owner’s son died several weeks ago.” I chose not to go into the details, given how that was all tied in to Will’s Folly. “At the funeral, Vivian Grant told us she couldn’t handle a special order. Plus she’s short-staffed. But we promised to use her bakery for our next teddy bear–themed event. In November.”

  “I must say, these cookies are brilliant!” Trina bit into an extra. “Scrummy, too.”

  “Aren’t they sweet?” I was pleased with Mary Kate’s iced cookie design, shaped as plump tan teddy bears popping from orange pumpkins. “I love these little leaf hats on the bears, too. So adorable.”

  Trina wore an apron over her rose-print skirt. Her blond bob swooped with every move when she hurried to set cookie plates on all the tables in the tea room. Her tall, silver-haired husband followed behind with two more plates. My sister poked my shoulder.

  “Quit sneaking the crumbs and help deliver the desserts.”

  I crammed the rest of the broken cookie—fewer calories than eating a whole one, of course—and rushed to help. Then I tracked Maddie down in a corner of the library. “What did you mean by Gina Lawson being trouble?”

  “Shh! She might hear you.”

  I grabbed the empty teapot she handed to me and headed to the kitchen again. Everyone oohed and aahed over the tarts and cookies. Relieved, I watched Gina, Holly, and Flynn return to their table, heads together. No doubt they were discussing Gina’s lawsuit against Mayor Bloom. What was that all about anyway? My curiosity mounted higher when Flynn stood and headed my way. Uh-oh. I ran for the kitchen and ducked out of sight.

  Flynn Hanson had recently moved back to Michigan from Florida. Why had he come today? I knew he hated tea. He also disliked kids of any age—which was the second reason I filed for divorce. Number one? His cheating ways. Flynn actually admitted that he hoped I’d “get over” my desire for a family. As if! I loved kids. The biggest draw to working at the Silver Bear Shop was seeing their joy among all the teddy bears.

  I peeked around the doorway. Flynn had stopped to chat with Mom. After she helped him find a huge house west of Ann Arbor, he’d brought her a dozen roses in gratitude. Were they cooking up yet another scheme together? Either real estate or something else?

  One of the ladies at a table waved to me, so I walked over with a fresh teapot. “We can’t wait to see the Bears on Parade that’s part of the Oktobear Fest this month,” the woman gushed. “When will they be ready?”

  “I believe next Wednesday is ‘opening night,’ ” I said, using two fingers on each hand to suggest quotation marks for emphasis. “My sister is one of the sculpture artists.”

  “Are they fashioned of resin? If so, they must be heavy.”

  “Uh, I think it’s resin and fiberglass. You can ask Maddie, she’s in the blue sweater over there.” I swiveled on my heel and then crashed into Flynn’s chest. “Ow!”

  “Hey, Sasha. Got a minute?”

  “Not really.”

  Pushing him aside, I hurried to the kitchen. Flynn trailed after me, though, as if I was the Pied Piper and only he could hear the tune. With a sigh, I grabbed the last dessert plate and tried to dodge him once more. He grabbed my elbow.

  “Hold on. I’ve got two tickets—”

  “What?”

  “—to a Red Wings game.” Flynn grinned at me, expecting a reaction.

  Puzzled, I shook my head. “Sorry. Not interested.” I marched over to Mom’s table with the plate. “Anyone need a few more cookies or tarts?”

  Barbara nodded. “Thank you, dear. I so wanted to take a few extra home for my husband. Could you find a small box?”

  “Of course. Should only take a minute.”

  “Sasha, bring a box for me as well,” Mom said. “I’m full to the brim, so dessert will have to wait. Your father would love a tart. Any idea where he went camping this weekend?”

  I shrugged. “I’ll be right back with the boxes.”

  Technically, Dad wasn’t camping. He was off with Gil Thompson on a trip north to scout a location for another Fresh Grounds coffee shop and bakery, but no way was I ratting him out. Mom would be livid about being left behind. She loved stopping in all the boutiques from Petoskey to Traverse City. I had no intention of getting involved in any upcoming battle.

  In the kitchen, Trina was busy filling the dishwasher with salad plates. “Do you have any boxes for people to take home desserts?” I asked.

  “Look in the stack of cardboard cartons over there,” she said promptly. “Don’t make a shambles of all the supplies if you can help it.”

  Flynn had followed me, however. “You didn’t let me finish, Sasha. I want to donate tickets to a Red Wings game against Pittsburgh to raffle off at the Oktobear Fest.”

  “Oh. That sounds great.”

  Thank goodness he wasn’t inviting me to a hockey game. We’d often caught the Red Wings in action while we dated, and he even proposed during a game against t
he Chicago Blackhawks at Joe Louis Arena one night. The Wings lost in overtime. That should have been a warning bell, but did I listen? Nope. I was over the moon, blind with love, hoping to fulfill my dreams of a happy marriage with a husband, a house filled with kids, and a dog.

  Maybe Flynn wanted the tax write-off by donating his tickets. The Wings had faded since their 2007–2008 Stanley Cup season. I remembered the night we attended the playoff finals’ first game back then, against Pittsburgh; Detroit lost that one also. Was it coincidence that Flynn chose tickets to a Wings game against the Penguins? Was it a dig at me? Then again, maybe I was reading too much into his generous offer.

  “I don’t have anything to do with collecting donations, Flynn, but thanks. Maddie will tell the committee, though.”

  My sister caught my words when she entered the kitchen. Arms pumping, she squealed and twirled around the narrow space as if she’d won the tickets.

  “The Red Wings! Wow! Which game, Flynn? Where are the seats?”

  “October twenty-third, against Pittsburgh,” he said. “Should be a great game, and the seats are great. Right near the Red Wings bench, fifth row.”

  At last I found the takeaway boxes and pulled them out. I busied myself with figuring out how to fold them properly while Maddie squealed again.

  “I’m calling Amy Evans right now. She’s in charge of donations and other stuff.”

  “I heard your design was chosen for one of those fiberglass bears. Congrats!”

  She beamed. “Thanks! I’m excited.”

  “So when is the Oktobear Fest?” Flynn asked.

  “Third weekend this month. Two weeks away,” I said. “And I’ll bet your tickets will bring in a lot of bids.”

  “People will go nuts,” Maddie said. “Amy’s been hoping for items just like this, and gift cards for restaurants. Dad and Gil Thompson have donated a few of those.”

  “Arthur and I will donate a free high tea,” Trina said. “Perhaps at Christmastime? We’ll be officially open by then. Wouldn’t that be lovely to win?”

  “Perfect! I’ll call Amy right now and tell her.” Scrabbling in her skirt pocket for her cell phone, Maddie raced out of the kitchen.

  “Great.” Flynn flashed another goofy grin at me. “Uh. I better get back.”

  Arthur brought in a tray of dirty teacups and saucers just then. “Cheerio, then. Hang on, aren’t you the chap in that ‘Flynn Wins’ advert on the telly?”

  I kept silent, since in my opinion Flynn didn’t need such blatant self-promotion. He’d been a top attorney in Florida. Mark Branson and Mike Blake hadn’t been hurting for business, either. What more did Flynn need, unless he wanted an ego boost? Duh! I almost smacked my forehead. Of course that was the answer—Flynn craved attention.

  “My publicist thought it would be a great idea,” he said.

  “Your publicist?” I couldn’t help the sarcastic twinge in my tone.

  “Sure. Gina’s a whiz at that kind of thing.”

  Maddie almost dropped the phone, hearing Flynn and me in the kitchen. “So, the redhead who’s doing promo work for Holly’s Through the Looking Glass.”

  “Yeah,” Flynn said. “Gina’s great.”

  “She’s also Holly’s shop assistant, and worked on the mayor’s re-election campaign,” I said. “Talk about multitasking.”

  “Gina has lots of great ideas,” he said. “Great gal.”

  “Great.” I sounded like the queen of sarcasm today. “So what about this lawsuit she filed against the mayor?”

  “Client confidentiality. You ought to know better than to ask.”

  “But you announced that it’s a court summons for debt collection.”

  He shrugged. I was certain more details would be bandied about in the Silver Hollow gossip mill before morning. Flynn’s face and neck had gone scarlet from the roots of his blond hair down to his tight collar. He probably knew that, too.

  Maddie waved a hand in dismissal. “Well, we really appreciate the tickets. Cal Bloom donated a signed Steve Yzerman jersey, with a bunch of other players’ signatures on it. That will be a fabulous auction package.”

  “Great.” Flynn backed toward the door and bumped into Arthur Wentworth, who howled in pain. “Oh, sorry about that. Stepped on your foot?”

  “No worries, mate.”

  “Good thing we’re not officially open. Customers aren’t supposed to traipse about in the kitchen.” Trina herded both men out the door. “Fetch the teacups, darling.”

  Once I delivered the boxes to Mom and her friend, I noted that Gina, Holly, and Flynn all chose to depart at the same time. Hmm. I rushed back to the kitchen and caught Maddie’s arm. “So tell me what you heard about Gina Lawson.”

  First Maddie took over dish duty from Trina. “We’re not leaving you with all this to clean up. We can’t thank you enough for helping us out today.”

  Trina laughed. “I’m glad we did, and I’m knackered! I’ll go Hoover the rooms while you birds tidy up in here then.”

  My sister waited until she left. Maddie turned to me but lowered her voice anyway. “You saw that article in the Silver Hollow Herald, right?”

  “About how Holly sells more than the Silver Bear Shop and The Cat’s Cradle combined, when they’ve only been open a few weeks.” I filled the sink with soapy water and washed the delicate cups and saucers while Maddie dried and put them away. “Yeah, right.”

  “That was Gina’s idea, Sash, and it’s all smoke and mirrors. She may be a publicity whiz, but Mayor Bloom wasn’t happy with her tactics. At all.”

  “What kind of tactics?”

  “He owns the funeral home, remember. Prim and proper like what Grandma Helen would say, but Gina’s ads and promo were more suited to a snarky guy with attitude. That’s why the mayor refused to pay her fee. Not even half of what she asked.”

  “Whoa. All I remember is an ad about how he’ll be tougher and rougher on crime in the area, and come down hard on all the drugs in the schools,” I said. “And something about how parents aren’t doing their jobs. Sounds like Gina’s marketing made him a big bully.”

  “She claimed he needed to boost his image.” Maddie rubbed her hands with glee. “Given his opponent, that farmer who lives beyond the Richardsons. Tony Crocker got a huge number of people to sign his nomination petition. Could be why the mayor’s worried.”

  “But he’ll win again. Cal Bloom’s been mayor for fifteen years, and most people don’t like change. They also don’t bother to vote, except for the mayor’s supporters.”

  “Gina’s got a good marketing record, though, from what I heard,” my sister said. “I bet that’s why Flynn hired her to arrange those commercials. You know he’s been dating her off and on for the past few years, right? Abby Pozniak told me, right before she left today.”

  “Did Abby have any information about Gina’s lawsuit?” When Maddie shook her head, I started washing the flatware. The whir of a vacuum floated from the parlor. “I don’t see why Cal Bloom won’t pay her half her fee and avoid gossip. It’s bound to hurt him, whether or not he’s a shoo-in to win another term as mayor.”

  “What did you think about Holly Parker coming to the tea?” She plucked up a towel to dry the spoons, forks, and knives. “Her business is beating our shop, remember, and Matt’s bookstore in sales. Odd that she didn’t have Gina covering the shop for her.”

  “Not that odd, since she probably wanted to see Flynn serve the mayor that summons.”

  Maddie snorted. “You know Holly’s carrying Bears of the Heart toys. She never asked us about stocking our bears in her shop.”

  I shrugged. “People can walk down the street if they want to buy ours.”

  “It’s a popularity contest, Sash, like when the two of you were back at Silver Hollow High. Gina told Holly exactly what to do the minute she returned. Buying a thousand tulip bulbs for the village’s garden brigade. Face painting at Richardson’s Farms, the same day we’re doing our Hide the Bears in the Apple Orchard. Now I’ve heard
she volunteered as Santa’s helper at the Bear-zaar next month.”

  “Wait—what Hide the Bears in the Apple Orchard?”

  “Next Saturday. We talked about it back in July.” My sister snapped the damp towel at my backside. I flicked soapy water back at her.

  “Oh yeah, I remember now. Richardson’s will be crammed with people for the usual hayrides, pumpkin picking, donuts, and cider, too.”

  “Don’t forget the haunted maze. Everyone’s looking forward to that.”

  “A haunted maze? What about the haunted house?”

  “They change it up every year. A barn one time, and last year’s haunted cellar was so gruesome some parents complained,” Maddie said. “That’s why they’re buying our smallest bears and selling tickets for the younger kids to search in the orchard. It’s a great idea. Wish I’d thought of it first.”

  “You do a great job on social media. It’s not that hard. I really don’t understand why Holly thinks she needs a marketing and publicity person.”

  “Gina handles the online sales. But I wonder what else the two of them will come up with for Through the Looking Glass. Kip says Holly will do anything to succeed, and I believe it. You ought to know what she was like back in school.”

  “Whatever. Even if she hires a three-ring circus to perform in front of the shop, people will focus on the Bears on Parade and the Oktobear Fest events this month.”

  “Ooh, so Holly’s return is bothering you. I wasn’t all that sure till now.”

  “Shut up.” I twisted the dishrag to squeeze water out and then hung it to dry. “Come on, we’ve got to get back to the shop. As for Holly Parker, she can go stuff it.”

  “Didn’t she plagiarize your senior English essay? And that’s why she was named Student of the Year instead of you?” Maddie asked.

  “I couldn’t prove I wrote it.”

  “Then she took away first chair from you in Band. And stole your boyfriend.”

  “You were in junior high. How do you remember all that?”