Chapter 28 Hughes
HUGHES
“Ineed a house.”
“Buy one that you can parcel out and rent to multiple families,” Nana tells me, sitting beside me at the table in the Jingle Bites Café. “Like a quadplex. Then you don’t have to move out during Christmas. Or get one with an attic that’s not up to code.”
Willow’s not at the cafe. Unfortunately.
The entire rest of the town, however, is.
I had to agree to take photos with tourists so I could get a table.
One lady is recording her true crime podcast on the murders from the seat by the window.
The teenager manning the counter looks flustered by the crowd.
“Oh my god, there you are!” Rose cries out when she sees Willow.
Willow and Josie help clear out some of the tourist crowd, then they both come over to me.
“Can’t chat long, but we want to give you an update.” Willow gives me a quick kiss.
“Wait,” I say when they’re done. “So, Maris isn’t the killer?”
“I don’t think so.”
“But,” Josie says, “we have another lead. Lydia.”
“The sister? Hmm.” I frown.
“Did you go through the text messages yet?” Willow asks.
“Been reading through the ones between Taylor and the therapist. They were definitely having an affair. Also, for what it’s worth, she appeared to be texting Damien right before she was in the shop the night she died.
I got the police video—she goes into the shop at 8:17 p.m., but then,” I add, “the video cuts out.”
“But why?”
“Well, nothing that she texted Damien gives me any clues. It’s just insanity.” I show her.
“See if there’s anything from Lydia.”
They watch me type “L” into the search bar. Then the messages from Lenore pop up.
“Oooh, wait, what’s that?” Willow points.
Lenore: You’re having an affair with my husband! Skank!
Taylor Grace: You’re so delusional. It’s the menopause. He loves me not you.
Taylor Grace: He never loved you.
Lenore: You’re delusional if you think he’s going to stay with you.
Lenore: Jonah wants to leave you. He told me so himself.
Then a few days later:
Taylor Grace: You killed him! I know you killed him!
Lenore: No, you killed him.
Taylor Grace: I have proof!
“Damn.” I sit back.
“Lenore needs to be top of the suspect list,” Willow says quietly.
“What about Lydia?” Josie asks.
“Hmm.” I type in Lydia’s name.
The messages between her and Taylor Grace are eerily simliar to the ones between her and me—lots of long-winded lectures passive-aggressively telling her she’s a bad mother, that Taylor Grace doesn’t agree with the minutiae of how Lydia handled some particular incident that most people would just brush off as kids being kids but triggered Taylor Grace into writing a dissertation of criticism.
“Damn. My sister or not, I’d block her.”
“Yeah.” Josie grimaces. “Lydia told me that she was thinking of cutting Taylor Grace off.”
“Like off off?” I mime slitting my throat.
“I don’t know about that, but she said that Taylor Grace made her drag herself and her whole family into a therapy session.
Her husband was pretty pissed about it because, you know, he’s got a stressful job, and Taylor Grace would invite herself over to their house then, like, not leave for hours, just hold Lydia hostage,” Josie whispers.
“Look at this.” I frown. “There’s a phone call from Lydia fifteen minutes before Taylor Grace went to your shop.”
“Okay, we have two suspects to investigate. Not for long, though, because the Christmas Bake-Off is tonight, and I cannot just dump all that on poor Hollis. I’d be no better than Taylor Grace.” Willow takes out a notepad. “First thing is those herbs. And I know just the witch to ask.”
The bell over the door jingles as Hollis comes in with a guinea pig in a basket, munching on lettuce leaves.
“Oh, my little baby!” Willow coos. “Thank you, Hollis, for babysitting. I’m having housing issues right now.”
“My pleasure. He’s such a cutie.” Hollis looks between Hughes and me. “And I see that you two are next in the pipeline for getting married. Willow, you didn’t even catch the bouquet at Sandra’s wedding last month.” She laughs. “That was quick, but I guess when you know, you know!”
“I’ll take him from you.” Willow picks up the guinea pig.
“He can’t stay here. Gran thinks the police chief is sleeping with the health inspector, or at least that’s what she’s spreading around town in retaliation for the arrest of my poor boyfriend here, and we really can’t afford to get shut down. ”
“Yeah, not after our prayers were answered, and we got rid of Taylor Grace,” Rose says with a snicker from the counter.
“Did you say boyfriend?” Josie squeals then covers her mouth before clapping her hands. “Hollis and I have to be your bridesmaids, Willow!”
“Well, you’d be matron of honor, and I’d be maid of honor, if you want, of course,” Hollis corrects. “I love weddings!”
“Oh, also,” Willow tells her, “Maris wants to bring by some smoked turkey. Maybe we could branch into pastries? What do you think?”
“Oh, you and Maris are friends? I thought she was the murderer,” Hollis says, wide-eyed.
“Well, it seems like that’s not quite it.” Willow grimaces.
“I’m actually wondering if I should ask her if she wants to work here a little bit?” Willow jokes. “You know, lighten your load. Bond over our collective trauma?”
“Oh, I’m fine, don’t you worry about me. I’ve got it all under control,” Hollis trills. “You just go solve that case! I’m going to work on bakery treats for the baking competition tonight.”
“Oh my god, thank you for remembering!” Willow hugs her. “You are a lifesaver.”
“Don’t worry. They’re your recipe. We’ll enter them under your name and the Jingle Bites Café.” Hollis smiles.
“We really should just enter them under yours,” Willow tells her. “I don’t want to take credit from you. You’ve been keeping this place afloat.”
“Oh!” Hollis beams. “Well. I mean, that’s so nice of you, but maybe next year?”
The Christmas market is bustling, even though it’s a weekday. People are pouring into town for the Bake-Off and the accompanying free treats.
People are even crowded in the part of the market near Lilith’s stall. We wait for the crowd of teenage girls dressed like goth Christmas witches to clear out. And there’s Lilith, menacing like a spider in her lair, smoke from the beeswax candles curling around her.
She strokes the back of her black cat, Salem, then turns her dark gaze on us. “So, you’ve finally solved the murder.”