Chapter 18 #2
She nods, and the grief is still evident in her expression.
“ Sometimes I feel like Matilda is missing out on so much without a father figure in her life. I keep thinking about getting a dog—you know, something loyal and loving to help fill that void. I think I had mentioned to you the other night that I had a labradoodle when I was younger. So I know firsthand that they’re amazing with kids. ”
Did someone say labradoodle? Fudge perks up with excitement. I love doodles! They’re like the best of both worlds—smart like poodles but fun like labs! Skittles is my favorite.
I nod. Skittles would be Buffy’s labradoodle. But I’ll admit, I’m still stuck on the fact that Hammie Mae is so in love with doodles. My entire body electrifies at the thought.
It wouldn’t surprise me one bit if she was the owner of the handle Lovemydoodle. I suck in a quick breath because that would most certainly mean that Hammie Mae is my sister!
A labradoodle would be perfect for them, Jellybean agrees, which is high praise coming from a cat. Especially with a baby. They’re gentle and protective.
“Oh, you should definitely get one,” I say with genuine enthusiasm because labradoodles are basically the perfect family dog wrapped in adorable curly fur.
“They are incredible with children, and honestly, having a dog around makes everything better. Sherlock here has been amazing with Ella. He’s like her furry bodyguard. ”
Sherlock wags his tail at the mention of his name, looking proud of his babysitting credentials.
“I’m actually in touch with a breeder now. I think I mentioned that the other night, too,” Hammie Mae says, brightening at the topic. “I figure by the time Matilda is crawling, it would be perfect timing to add a four-legged family member.”
My heart drums in my chest so fast I might actually faint. Hammie Mae Westoff is really Hammie Mae Baker. I’m sitting less than two feet from my long-lost sister, I can feel it.
“Do you remember that whole kerfuffle a few months back about the man who raised me?” A wry smile touches her lips as she shifts gears.
I nod. “The fact your mom told you that the man who raised you—the one you called Dad your whole life wasn’t your biological father. I remember. And I’m sorry. That must have been quite a shock.”
“It was,” she agrees, bouncing Matilda as she grows fussy.
“And the kicker is, all my mom would tell me about my real father is that he was a ‘well-known cad’ right here in Spider Cove.” She sighs heavily.
“Can you imagine if I have siblings running around here in town and I have no clue who they could be?” She laughs suddenly.
“Could you imagine if you and I were sisters?”
I freeze with my mug halfway to my mouth, my eyes widening in genuine shock.
Does Hammie Mae suspect something, too? Obviously, if she’s Lovemydoodle, she knows that I’m her sister.
“That would be wild, right?” Hammie Mae continues, oblivious to my internal freak-out. “Though I suppose it’s not completely outside the realm of possibility in a town this small where everyone’s family trees seem to intersect at some point.”
“Y- yeah ,” I stammer, trying to regain my composure. “That would be something.”
She tilts her head, studying my face. “Bizzy, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. And I don’t mean the one supposedly haunting your inn.”
“I’m fine,” I assure her with my voice steadier than I feel, which is more or less a miracle considering my brain is currently short-circuiting. “I was just thinking about Heath. You mentioned he wasn’t what he seemed?”
“Right,” she says, shifting tracks. “So get this. Heath’s paranormal enthusiast persona was just his hobby.
His actual job was as a real estate developer.
” Her expression darkens and I can see the storm brewing in her eyes.
“And he had his eye on a portion of our farm for some luxury vacation homes he wanted to build.”
“He wanted you to sell your land?” I ask, not entirely surprised.
“For months he’d been pressuring me about it,” she confirms, and her irritation is evident.
“At first, he was all friendly, talking about how much money I could make, how it would secure Matilda’s future.
When that didn’t work, he started getting pushy, talking about how the farm was underutilized and how I was sitting on a gold mine. ”
“I take it you weren’t interested?”
“This farm has been in our family for generations.” Hammie Mae pushes her drink to the side as if making a point.
“I’m not going to be the one who sells off pieces of it to developers who want to build McMansions for rich summer people.
” Her voice rises with passion. “Besides, we’re finally turning a profit with the chocolate side of the business. I don’t need his money.”
“How did Heath take the rejection?” I ask, watching her carefully because I’m starting to think Heath wasn’t a big fan of the word no .
“He didn’t handle it well,” she admits. “About two weeks before he died, he cornered me after a club meeting. Said he had other ways to convince me to sell. And that things could get very uncomfortable for my family if I didn’t reconsider.”
“He threatened you?” I ask, as a flare of indignation rockets through me on her behalf because threatening new mothers should be punishable by law.
“Not in so many words, but the implication was clear,” she says, and her jaw tightens with the memory. “I told him to take a hike and suggested a few anatomically impossible things he could do with his development plans. The next day, he showed up at the farm and my mom practically threw him out.”
“That must have been intense,” I say, filing away this new potential motive. If Heath was threatening the Westoff family business, that gave Matilda another reason to want him gone—beyond any secrets about Hammie Mae’s parentage.
“It was,” Hammie Mae agrees. “And the weird part is, he wasn’t just doing this to us. Buffy told me he was pressuring her about something, too.”
“Buffy from the bookstore?” I ask, feigning mild surprise.
“Yeah, they dated for a while, but it ended badly,” Hammie Mae says, lowering her voice to safer gossiping levels.
“He was horrible to her—controlling, possessive. And after they broke up, he wouldn’t leave her alone.
Then suddenly, about a week before he died, the harassment stopped.
But he had this smug look whenever she was around. Like he had something on her.”
“Did Buffy ever mention what it was?” I ask, trying not to sound too eager for the dirt .
“No,” Hammie Mae says, shaking her head. “But I overheard him telling her once, ‘Either you cooperate by the end of the month or everyone finds out.’ When I asked her about it later, she just said she was handling it and changed the subject.”
Matilda begins to fuss more insistently, and Hammie Mae shifts her to begin nursing discreetly under a light blanket, multitasking like the champion new mom she is.
“So Heath was pressuring multiple people,” I say, thinking aloud. “You about the land, and Buffy about something mysterious and potentially devastating.”
“And who knows how many others,” Hammie Mae adds. “The man had a talent for digging up information people wanted to keep buried.”
“What about Hazel?”
She rolls her eyes in a way that suggests Hazel is not her favorite person, and Matilda claps her hands as if agreeing with her mother’s assessment.
“Oh, Heath had dirt on Hazel, too. He caught her staging some of her paranormal evidence—you know, rigging equipment to get better footage for her YouTube channel. He was threatening to expose her whole operation, which would have ruined her reputation and probably ended her paranormal career before it really took off. I heard them going at it after one of our meetings.”
“He caught her staging paranormal evidence?” I whisper mostly to myself.
So it is true!
Well, that explains Hazel’s nervous energy and her eagerness to point fingers at everyone else. Nothing like a good old-fashioned blackmail scheme to muddy the investigative waters.
Hammie Mae glances at her watch and grimaces as if she were late to her own execution.
“I need to get back to work soon. My mother’s dragon mode kicks in if I’m late from break, and trust me, you don’t want to see Matilda Westoff when she’s in full business owner fury.
She could kill if she gets angry enough.
” She hesitates, then leans forward once again.
“Look, I know I’m probably overstepping, but be careful with this investigation stuff, okay?
Heath had a way of making enemies, and whoever killed him clearly isn’t playing around. ”
“I’ll be careful,” I promise, touched by her concern. And a part of feels it was sisterly concern.
She nods, shifting Matilda back to her shoulder to burp her. “You really are lucky, you know. Having Jasper, I mean. A partner who’s there for you and the baby...” She trails off wistfully. “That’s something special.”
“It is,” I agree, feeling suddenly guilty for my good fortune when she’s clearly struggling to do everything alone.
“We should get together for a playdate sometime.” Hammie Mae brightens at the thought. “The girls should know each other growing up. Heck, I bet they’ll be as close as cousins!”
She laughs and my mouth opens, but not a sound comes out.
She shrugs. “Plus, I could use some mom friends who understand what it’s like to function on two hours of sleep and still have to be a productive human being to boot.”
“I’d love that,” I say, and I mean it wholeheartedly—especially now.
She stands to leave with Matilda securely in her arms, then pauses.
“Oh, and Bizzy? Your friend with the fake mustache might want to try for a more convincing disguise next time. My security team’s been watching her since you arrived.
” She flashes a mischievous grin. “The only reason they haven’t escorted her out is because I told them to stand down. This time .”
With a wink, she’s gone, weaving back through the tables toward the main floor of the shop.
I sit there, nursing my cooling cocoa and processing everything I’ve just learned while my brain tries to sort through the implications.
Heath was putting pressure on multiple people—Hammie Mae about her land, Buffy about some unknown secret, and Hazel about her fake paranormal evidence.
The man was basically running a blackmail operation disguised as ghost hunting.
And Hammie Mae’s casual comment about us potentially being sisters...was that just a throwaway joke, or does she suspect something, too? In a town where family secrets seem to multiply like rabbits, nothing would surprise me anymore.
I glance down at Ella’s sleeping face, so peaceful and unaware of the complicated web of family secrets, potential murder motives, and chocolate-covered chaos she’s been born into. She and Matilda really could be cousins— family —without anyone knowing it.
“Come on, sweet pea,” I whisper, carefully adjusting her blanket and preparing to navigate our way back through the chocolate wonderland. “Let’s go rescue Georgie before she ends up with another community service sentence. We’ve got a lot to think about.”
And a killer to catch—possibly one with ties closer to home than I ever imagined.