Powdered Murder

I ran farther down the street hoping that Martha wouldn't notice I'd been close enough to see her. I casually walked towards Martha as she turned the corner and faced my direction. She glanced at me and nonchalantly fixed a lock of her light brown bob.

"Morning," I spoke first.

"Oh hi, Essie dear."

"Hitting the shops this early in the morning?" I asked

"Oh you know Mayor Millbreck." She forced out a quiet laugh. "He loves Ada's chokecherry scones with his morning coffee." She glanced down the street at the bakery – the one shop that was always bustling before dawn.

"Of course. Tell him I say hello."

"Oh, I will dear." Martha took a step closer and nudged my arm. "And I trust that you're prepared for Sunday?"

"Sunday?"

"Yes, the big day." She winked as she said it. "I know it's supposed to be a small, intimate wedding—"

"And private," I butted in. "Very, very private."

"But who can say no to the Mayor?" She chuckled, pleased with herself for climbing to the top of the Bison Creek social ladder. Not a tough ladder to climb. "I bet even the Mayor of Silverwood and his wife haven't been to a celebrity event of this significance," she whispered. Silverwood was our neighboring town boasting better slopes and shops. Naturally she despised it.

"I honestly wouldn't know."

Martha continued to look pleased with herself as she kept walking. Our conversation had been completely one-sided. She'd said whatever it was she needed to say, and then moved on with her day.

Martha never ignored the chance to gossip. If she knew about Do

Maybe the black BMW snaking around town yesterday was just a coincidence?

I checked my watch. There was still time to visit the kitchens at the resort before the major breakfast rush. I had to figure out what was in that cupcake that was found next to Do

Before I headed back towards The Painted Deer Bookshop, I watched Martha Millbreck stop and say hello to Mrs. Henson who came out early every morning to walk her two Akitas. Martha leaned down to pet both dogs, but as soon as Mrs. Henson kept walking she pulled some hand sanitizer out of her purse. Martha sped down the sidewalk … and she walked right past the bakery without a backward glance.

CHAPTER SEVEN

"The wedding is still on," Joy happily stated. "And you're late for Saturday morning brunch."

"Brunch?"

"Yes, people still do brunch nowadays." She placed her hands on her hips and waited for me to smile and follow her to the dining room. I decided to stop by the resort and check up on Taryn with the thought that I might run into Patrick too.

"And that's it?" I urged her on. "Everyone seems happy with that decision?" I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear as Joy studied me from head to toe.

"Essie," she said, shaking her head. "I know what you're getting at." She bit the side of her lip and put her clipboard under her arm. I think it was the first time she had pulled her eyes away from it all morning. "He agreed to move forward too."

"What?"

"Patrick," Joy said quietly. "He's getting married tomorrow."

"Yes, I know." I took a step past her and acted like it didn't bother me, but it did. I knew Patrick once, and when I saw him again I thought I still knew him. I was wrong. He obviously had second thoughts about marrying Lila and who knew what happened between him and Do

"Um brunch is that way." Joy pointed in the opposite direction.

"Yeah." I sighed and looked down at my casual choice of jeans, snow boots, and a Christmas red sweater. I hoped it wouldn’t make me look too out of place amongst Lila's custom made diamond necklaces or one of Franco's designer suits. Maybe I should have changed first.

I walked through the staff hallway leading towards the kitchens and glanced through the window as Miss Korston, the head baker rapidly kneaded dough like it might explode in a few seconds. She formed a loaf and placed it in a pan to rise. The sound of high heels coming down the hallway made me keep moving. Joy was making sure I fulfilled my bridesmaid duties to the max.

"Don't worry about the sweater." In no time Joy was standing next to me again as I hesitated to push open the final door that led into the dining room. Joy eyed my sweater and kept a twisted smile on her face. It was like she could read my mind. "You look just fine. I mean, Lila is wearing a dress, but it isn't formal. Although I do think the fur collar is made from an actual fox."

"Whatever," I muttered. "If she doesn't dig the jeans she can find another bridesmaid."

"There you go, sis." Joy nodded, impressed that I was tossing around some attitude for once. The whole screw it mentality was more her thing. Not really mine. "I know it's completely backwards, but I love it when you get ticked off. It reminds me that you're human."

"Lovely."

"But nix the scowl so I don’t get fired, okay?"

Joy opened the door for me and instantly I smelled the fresh scent of pines and evergreens. The wedding brunch was set up beautifully in one of the private rooms near the kitchen. It was decorated in delicate white lace tablecloths and the mantle on the brick fireplace was draped in real greenery and pine cones. There was a large arched window that overlooked the mountains and through it the sky was a perfect Tiffany blue. It was as if Mother Nature arranged everything perfectly just for today. Next to the window, Franco was standing at the buffet table. His eyes darted from the fresh fruit platter to a tall cake that looked like it had been rolled in powdered sugar. He shook his head when he saw me enter the room.

"Poinsettia red is so out this season," he said quietly taking a knife to slice a piece of cake. "It's all about royal blue."

"I'll have to remember that," I replied. I looked at the table where the rest of the wedding party was sitting with untouched plates of food. Lila ran her fingers over the porcelain vase filled with light peach roses that acted as one of the center pieces. Bebe slowly sipped a Mimosa as she glared at a plate of colorful pastries. Patrick looked up when he saw me. Our eyes met and for a second my heart pounded like it was being squeezed by a pair of gargantuan hands.

"Oh dear." Franco was still deciding if he wanted one piece of cake or maybe two. He held the knife and paused. "You two have history, don't you?"

"Of course we do," I replied quietly. I gently picked up an empty plate. It was the resort's finest china. Hand-painted and completely original with pictures of deer and evergreens. "We both grew up in this town."

"Not that kind of history, sweetheart." He chuckled to himself and set the knife down. I scooped a spoonful of berries and plopped it on his plate so there was no room for anything else. Franco's eyes went wide as he looked at me.

"Habit," I said. "Sometimes my clients need to be nudged in the right direction. A bite or two is fine. Unless you're like me and a bite or two is just the begi