Dying for Dinner Rolls Read online

  A suitcase stood next to her. Was she heading to the airport? “Good morning.” I tried to hold down the confusion in my voice for fear of sounding rude. “How lovely to see you.”

  A strand of Cat’s hair fell across her eyes. “Bezu, I’m sorry about the early hour and all, but I knew you’d be up.”

  “Please, come in. Would you like some breakfast? I have fresh muffins.”

  “It smells great in here. Like my mom’s kitchen when she gets in the baking mood.”

  “Hattie used to say, ‘A home is warmed by love and what is baking in the oven.’ Let me get you something to eat.” I then asked, “Are you going somewhere? I don’t want to keep you from anything.”

  “Like what?”

  “Your flight? Or travel plans?”

  Cat tilted her head. “Why do you think that?”

  “You have a suitcase. I thought that perhaps you were on the way to the airport.” Always glad to help a friend, I added, “I’d be glad to give you a ride if you need one.”

  “No. Not going anywhere too far.” Cat’s eyes were puffy, as if she hadn’t slept. “I sort of moved out of my house.”

  “Oh, my.” My heart sank for her. She and Andrew had been married over twenty years. Was there something wrong with her marriage? “Moved out?”

  Dread overcame me. As much as I loved her, I hoped she wasn’t going to ask to stay here. My house was full. And then there was my secret. It was all too complicated.

  “It’s only temporary.” Cat picked up the suitcase and followed me back to the kitchen. She plopped down in a chair.

  Thinking of Cat moving out of her beloved home caused a viselike grip in my gut. I hoped that she was okay. Pouring two cups of coffee, I set one down in front of her.

  Poor thing. “I don’t mean to pry, but what’s going on? I’m assuming that something not so great happened at your house?”

  Cat sighed. “It’s tricky.”

  “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay.”

  “No. I mean, I’ll talk. It’s not that things are bad. It’s just that they aren’t right, either. That’s the reason I left.”

  I pulled a chair up to the table and sat next to her. “Oh?”

  “You see, my mom took the girls to Korea, and Andrew and Tadcu went with them. My mom and dad took the boys when they were the same age. Of course, they wanted me to go, too, but no way was I going. I put my foot down and said no one should go, not after my dad got killed.”

  “Your dad died here, not in Korea.”

  “I know.” Cat shook her head. “It’s weird, but I have this feeling that it’s not safe if we’re not together, keeping an eye out for each other.”

  “You mean, it’s not safe if you can’t keep a constant vigil over everyone. Which means keeping them all here under your watchful eye?”

  “Hmph.” Cat grabbed a muffin and tore off a piece.

  I reached over and placed my hand on top of hers. “Cat, I’m sorry about what happened to your dad.”

  Cat nodded, looking at me with watery eyes. She turned a ring on her thumb. “I need to stay in Savannah and find his killer. It’s hard to explain, but somehow I feel that I’d lose momentum if I stopped now.”

  “You still think it was murder and not just a botched robbery like the police said?”

  “Yes.” Cat’s deep brown eyes widened. “And I’m getting so close to finding out what really happened that night.”

  “How so?”

  “Remember that his former business partner, Micky Zwick, died suddenly as well. That makes three dead partners, who all had crossword puzzles with messages in purple ink left near their corpses. That’s gotta mean something.”

  “Like what?”

  “A clue.” Cat shrugged. “I’m not sure. But the trail is hot. I can’t leave it. Not now.” Cat leaned in, closer to the table. “Also, I have boxes in my SUV. I’ve wanted to go over some accounting stuff for Sunshine Market. We have so much to take care of now that my dad is gone, and it’s too much for my mom to do. So you see, I have way too much to do here. I just couldn’t go with them.”

  “I see.” I nodded halfheartedly, not really understanding her reasoning for staying here when she could be on vacation with her family. But I cherished her and wanted to be supportive.

  Cat twisted her mouth as though deep in thought. “And my house is so eerie now that it’s empty. I can’t sleep there.”

  I felt bad for her. She seemed so lost.

  Cat unfolded a napkin. “So, I came here.”

  Uh-oh. I wanted so badly to offer her a place to stay, but then she’d find out what I had tried to hide from her and the rest of the Chubby Chicks Club. They couldn’t know that I was illegally taking in boarders. I could get in all sorts of financial and legal trouble. Not that they would tell anyone, but once it was out of the bag, who knew who might find out? I had a pile of letters from the IRS and needed the tenants’ rent money in order to keep the house from being taken away.

  How did I tell a friend—whom I would do anything for—that she couldn’t reside with me? At least not now. I’d be humiliated if she knew that I’d run out of money, was close to bankruptcy, and was teetering on the edge of losing my house. Maybe she wouldn’t ask me, although she had shown up at my doorstep with her luggage. So it was only a matter of time.

  I fidgeted with my hair. “It’s nice out today. Don’t you think? Not too stiflingly humid, as it has been. I think it’ll be a perfect day.”

  “Yes.” Cat gazed at me as she sipped her coffee. “I really don’t want to bother you, but I’d like to ask you something.” She set her cup down and looked inside it.

  “Oh?” Perhaps her cup was empty. I picked up the carafe. “Do you need more? Here, let me top you off.”

  Cat put her hand over her cup. “No. I’m fine. But thanks.”

  “Was there something else?”

  Cat played with the saucer under her cup. She moved it from side to side. “You see, I was thinking about the Chubby Chicks Club. And I thought… Well, I don’t know how to say this.”

  “What?”

  Cat gazed at the flower centerpiece. “Um, well, never mind.”

  Maybe she didn’t want to stay here after all. “Speaking of our little group, what are Annie Mae and José up to? I haven’t seen them in a while.”

  “Annie Mae is away on an exchange professor teaching assignment at UNC Chapel Hill.”

  “Is that so? She’s still working? She had mentioned retirement.”

  “Yes, she plans on leaving her job soon, but not yet.” Cat grinned. “She loves to keep busy. I tell you what, she had so much fun playing detective on Lucy’s case with me, I think if she had a chance, she would do it again. As for me, trying to find out what happened to my dad, keeping my family safe, and running the business are enough. I don’t need to get involved in sleuthing.”

  “Although, I was very proud of how you and Annie Mae found out who killed Lucy,” I said.

  Cat smirked. “I have to admit, I kind of liked being a hero for the day and putting the killer behind bars.”

  “That was great. The whole city is still talking about it, too. You and Annie Mae were celebrities.” I sipped my coffee. “Who knew a sweet, rather upstanding store owner could commit murder?”

  “I know. People never fail to surprise me.”

  “You’re right about that.”

  “I’m glad that whole detective thing is done and behind me. Anyway, Annie Mae is out of town. She invited me to go up to North Carolina with her. But I said that I needed to stay in Savannah. Keep my eye on things here.” Cat’s shoulders sagged. “I’d like to talk to her, but she said she’s going to be out of touch for a few days as well. We’ll see her soon enough, not that anything exciting is going to happen around here that she’ll miss.”

  “No kidding. It’s pretty lackluster around here.” I asked, “So, I’ve been out of the loop for a few days—what’s going on with José?”

  “He’s s
howing some new police recruits the ropes.”

  “Good. It never hurts to have more law enforcement on the streets.” I fidgeted with my cup. “Does he still play poker?”

  Cat nodded. “All the time. He told me that he won big the other night.”

  “He’s lucky.”

  “Well, I’m not so sure about that. He keeps winning against his archrival, Officer Ray Murphy.”

  “Yes, I remember him. We met him the day we found Lucy.” My heart sank as I thought back to when all of us had found Lucy on the floor of her house, wrist slit open.

  Cat paused for a moment. “I still can’t believe that she’s gone.”

  “Me, either.” My eyes welled up. “But we still have each other.”

  “I am so thankful for all of you.” Cat put her hands in prayer formation.

  “Me, too. The Chubby Chicks Club is my family.”

  “Speaking of family, now that mine are out of town, actually out of the country, I’d like to find a place to stay so I won’t be alone.”

  The back of my throat tickled. I let out a small cough. “Any place in mind?”

  “José has an extra room at his house, but forget that. A married woman like me at a hunky single guy’s place just wouldn’t do.” Cat’s dark brown eyes shifted up.

  I leaned forward in my chair. “But he’s not interested in women.”

  Cat grinned as we locked eyes. “You, Annie Mae, and I know that, but no one else does. It could cause a scandal.”

  “You’re right. You know what they say about Savannah: ‘If you don’t know what you’re doing, someone else does.’”

  “Did Hattie say that?” Cat smiled.

  “She had more Southern expressions than there are azaleas in Savannah.” Because of my frequent use of Southernisms, Cat and Annie Mae kidded me that I spoke another language. “But you won’t be by yourself. Aren’t your boys still home?”

  “Nope. They’re spending a few days at a friend’s Tybee beach house. I’m solo.” Cat tapped the table.

  “You have me.”

  “I know. But I don’t want to impose on you.”

  “You know that you’re always welcome here. It’s just that I have a new tenant—I mean, relativearriving today. He’s staying in the last open bedroom. So it’s not like I don’t want to offer you a place to stay, it’s just that I don’t have a suitable room for you. I’d want you to be comfortable.”

  “Oh, please don’t worry about having something elaborate for me. I’m not picky. I can take the couch.” A smirk crept onto Cat’s face. “With four kids, you know I can fall asleep standing up if I have to. I don’t want to be alone at my house or in a hotel room.” Cat pushed her plate away from her.

  Folding a linen napkin, I thought of all the reasons I should refuse her. As much as I treasured Cat, my little world felt like only duct tape and a prayer held it together.

  I took a deep breath. Say no. Say no. “Why, I insist that you stay here.”

  Cat jumped out of her chair and flung her arms around my neck as she gave me a quick peck on my cheek. “Are you sure? You’re the best.”

  “You’re always welcome, Cat.”

  Cat sat back down. “Thanks.”

  Footsteps thumped on the wood floor. Mr. Phong, one of my longtime boarders, who everyone believed was a very distant relative, entered the kitchen singing, “Everybody, let’s get up. Hey, hey. Hey, hey. Hey, hey. If you can’t hear what I am a-saying, then read my paper.”

  At sixty-something, he’d learned English by singing pop songs, at least his version of the songs. This one sounded like Robin Thicke’s “Blurred Lines.”

  “Good morning, Mr. Phong, do you remember my friend Cat?”

  Mr. Phong, wearing a tweed suit and a pressed, green cotton shirt, nodded and grinned from ear to ear. A headphone cord dangled from each ear. “Maybe I am out of the mind.”

  Cat grabbed and shook Mr. Phong’s hand. “Nice to see you again. It looks like we’re going to be housemates for a while.”

  Mr. Phong shrugged his shoulders as he continued to sing. As he waved his hand, I saw the flash of his ruby-and-diamond ring. He poured a glass of juice and grabbed three muffins before he exited the kitchen.

  I made a dozen muffins every day, but Mr. Phong always took a few to start and then came back later to get whatever was left. At least they never went to waste.

  “You told us, but I forgot. How’s he related to you?” Cat stood.

  Rats. What had I told her before? I got up, then glided my chair in. “My brother-in-law’s third cousin, twice removed.”

  Cat set her coffee cup in the sink. “He’s getting better with English.”

  “Yes, he is. It’s all that listening to pop songs. And singing out loud, really loud.”

  “Does that get on your nerves?”

  “Not mine. I can tune it out pretty well. Although I’m not sure how my other guests feel about it. But that’s a part of living together. We have to accept each other’s idiosyncrasies.”

  “How many relatives do you have staying here now?”

  My eyebrows rose. With Cat around, I’d have to call them relatives and not boarders. “Two: Mr. Phong and a sweet young college student, Lily. Well, and her boyfriend practically lives here, too. So, actually that makes three.”

  “How is Lily related?”

  Think. Think. “My great-great-aunt’s sister-in-law’s step niece. Or something along those lines.” I’d never remember all the tales I’d spun. I just hoped Cat would forget them, too. “Oh, and there is one more guest due to arrive today. He’s some sort of temporary contractor here to work at that new company on Bay Street.”

  “It has initials, I think one is S and stands for Souza?”

  “Yes, that one.”

  “Sounds like you’ll have a full house.” Cat washed her cup and put it on the drying rack.

  I only had one decent bedroom left, but it was reserved for the new tenant. The only other bedroom upstairs was mine, and it had a collapsed ceiling corner due to a leak, which, in turn, had soaked the wood floor beneath it. That was why I slept in the walk-in pantry. I simply hadn’t had the time or the funds to fix the leak. I’d had to discard the bed because it was soaked through. Luckily, the dresser and nightstand were still intact.

  Now that Cat was here, I needed to make the room livable on a dime. And pray that it didn’t rain, for I feared that she’d be washed out of the room. After I quickly catalogued what I had in my backyard shed, I came up with some things that might work. I’d nail a sheet of plastic to the ceiling and cover the damaged floor with a piece of plywood, then throw a rug over that so Cat wouldn’t get splinters. There was an old collapsible cot that could work as a rather decent bed. I’d have to figure out how to fix the folding leg on the cot to make sure it didn’t crumple on Cat.

  “I really appreciate you letting me stay here. Thank you.” Cat dried her hands on a floral kitchen towel. “I don’t want it to be too much for you.”

  “Don’t be silly.”

  “So you’re sure it’s no trouble?”

  “None at all.” Having her in my home created a pail full of difficulties for me, but I’d sell my soul to help Cat. “I’ll put you upstairs in the corner bedroom.”

  “Wait.” Cat held up her hand. “As I remember, you only have four bedrooms, and that one is yours. I’ll crash somewhere down here. I don’t want to take your room.”

  “No, you will not. I have a few things to fix up first. But I insist you take the bedroom.”

  “Where will you sleep?”

  The walk-in pantry. Like I’ve slept in for weeks now. “Don’t worry about me. I have a cozy place to sleep downstairs.” And that was the truth.

  Cat picked up her suitcase. “This will be fun.”

  This might turn into a nightmare, but my dear friend needed me. “It sure will be.”

  “I’ll just put my things in the room. Then I have to go to the Sunshine Market and check up on our assistant manager. While
I’m there, I’ll get us some groceries. What do you think about Mexican tonight?”

  “Lovely,” I said.

  “Then that is what we’ll have.” Cat walked up the stairs.

  The doorbell chimed.

  I opened the door to find a slim, dark-haired man on my porch. His eyes were a deep blue-green, his smile full of straight white teeth. Dimples formed in his cheeks, and his skin was deep golden-brown, as though he was of Latin descent.

  My, oh, my. He looked like a tall, cool drink of tequila.

  A guitar and a large, beige duffle bag stood next to him. He wore a white T-shirt, a beige linen blazer, and snug faded jeans with cowboy boots.

  He stuck out his hand. “I’m Xavier, your new tenant.”

  TAP HERE to buy Murderous Muffins (Book 2)

  Acknowledgments

  Any story starts with an idea and then grows from there. Along the way, many people helped and supported me as I turned my idea into a finished book. First and foremost, thanks go out to my husband, Tom, and our fabulous four children: Sean, Melanie, Tiffany and Ryan.

  To my many writer friends for the great ideas, encouragement, critique, review and counsel. In addition, to all of my friends who listened to me while I plotted out my stories and talked about characters (as though they were real), thank you for letting me bend your ear. Your input has been extremely valuable in making this book better than it was.

  Also by Lois Lavrisa

  Liquid Lies

  * * *

  GEORGIA COAST COZY MYSTERIES

  Dying for Dinner Rolls

  Murderous Muffins

  Homicide by Hamlet

  Killing with Kings

  Puzzled by Purple

  * * *

  To purchase, please visit loislavrisa.com/books, or head to your favorite online bookseller.

  About the Author

  Lois Lavrisa grew up on the rough and tumble South Side of Chicago. She earned a Master’s and Bachelor of Science in Journalism and Communication with a minor in Public Relations. After college, she wrote training programs for a Fortune 500 company, taught many years as an adjunct professor, and was also a professional cheerleader for the Chicago Bulls. She’s been married to her aerospace husband Tom since 1991 and they have four (nearly grown-up) children—two sons and two daughters.