Fudge Brownies & Murder (8 page)

Both of her parents had made drinking their number one priority in life. Amy was their only child, who despite the alcohol-induced neglect, turned out to be one of the kindest, most caring people Carla had ever met. The silver lining in the horrible upbringing was that Amy had learned how to cook, to feed herself, at an early age. Now, the self-taught survival skill had turned into her dream job as she competed in contests, worked at a café, and now had a recipe blog. While she enjoyed a cocktail now and then, Amy was far from an alcoholic. The twang of fear in her voice startled Carla. "
You
know you're nothing like your mom.
I
know you've worked hard all of your life to be the kind of person that is as far opposite as possible from her. Having a baby wouldn't change you. It's not like some kind of biological switch that flips on and turns you into your mother. You would be an excellent mom."

"That's what Alex says, but I'm not so sure." She turned to face Carla. A sunny smile replaced the frown on her face. "This isn't about me, though. You're first up in the mommy batter box. I can't wait for you to hit it out of the park."

"Okay. Just don't make me run for the metaphorical ball. Nobody wants to see that."

Inside the exam room, the nurse's assistant went through the routine that had become familiar to Carla—blood pressure, baby's heartbeat, measuring the baby bump. It had always been difficult for Carla to be a patient. She self-diagnosed most illnesses, only resorting to visiting a doctor if she needed a prescription, and played a tiring game of devil's advocate for any diagnosis. However, in Dr. Herman's offices, she felt at ease with both the doctor and his staff. Another minor miracle in her life brought about by the unexpected left turn into marriage and motherhood.

Roz, one of the practice's midwives, entered the room soon after the assistant left. "How are you doing?" she asked as she examined Carla's new measurements on her tablet computer.

"Good. A few more Braxton Hicks contractions, but I guess that can be expected at this point." Carla stared at her bare feet topped with puffy ankles as her legs dangled from the end of the exam table. There she went again. Diagnosing herself in a medical area she had no experience in.

"Yes, those can be expected," Roz confirmed as she bent to look closer at the marshmallow-like ankles. "It means you're getting closer to having this baby. Let's do a quick ultrasound to see how big the little person is now. You haven't changed your mind about not knowing the sex?"

Carla shook her head as she lay back onto the paper-covered table. "Nope. Still don't want to know. I love surprises. So I have a big one to look forward to as a reward for going through labor and delivery."

That evening, Carla doubted Amy. Several times during the long, slow drive home, her friend had pronounced that everything would be fine. But Carla didn't feel like she would be fine. Not any time soon. Maybe never. At the appointment, Dr. Herman said that the baby was big enough. It could come at any time and would be perfectly healthy. The tendrils of fear over becoming a momma tightened around her heart. She didn't know what kind of person her own mother had become while living in the wilds of New Zealand, but she was grateful that she was coming to help.

"Hey, where are you going?" Alex called as Amy tumbled out of bed.

It was mid-morning, and after skipping breakfast, her body was running on fumes. She needed some caffeine so she could enjoy her husband for a little while longer. Luckily, their bedroom was fully equipped for emergency coffee situations.

"I'm just making a quick cup of coffee," she said as she popped a filter pod of dark French roast into the coffee maker's basket. Not many people had a beverage station in their bedroom, but she wasn't like most people. Alex and her friends told her that all the time. "Do you want one too?"

"Sure. But I would like you to come back to bed even more."

Amy measured the water and got the lifesaving appliance brewing as quickly as possible. Both of her husband's requests were easy to fulfill. She giggled as she climbed over the end of the bed and crawled like a cat over the comforter. Making coffee in the nude was a bit chilly, especially after getting toasty warm under the covers with Alex. "Warm me up. I'm cold now."

"My pleasure," he said as he rolled to face her. His hand was deliciously warm as he slid it over her thigh and up to her waist.

She wiggled closer until every possible bit of her body was touching him. The rich scent of coffee drifted around them as Alex used his hands and lips to make her melt into a puddle. He had arrived home from his extreme sports adventure with his friends after 11:00 p.m. Both of them had been tired, her from freaking out that Carla's baby was so close to arriving and him from driving home from Tennessee. So they fell asleep nestled against each other as though they were a teaspoon and a tablespoon in a silverware drawer. The peaceful night of sleep led to a frenzied morning. Absence obviously did make the heart grow fonder. Or at least it made married people grow friskier. Poor Pogo had disappeared hours earlier, running down the stairs yelping in distress over the X-rated private display of affection.

When the coffee maker finished its chore, Amy got out of bed again, this time grabbing her flannel robe off the nearby chair. She made two mugs of coffee with lots of sugar and a touch of vanilla-flavored powdered creamer. Not her favorite way to take her coffee, but there was no way she was running downstairs to get half-and-half out of the refrigerator. The shelf-stable, non-dairy creamer she kept in a jar next to the mugs would do at the moment. The whole point of having the beverage area in the bedroom was to save trips to the kitchen. She set both mugs on the nightstand beside Alex then climbed onto the edge of the bed beside him. He scooted toward the middle of the bed so she had more room to curl up her legs under the warm robe. She grabbed her pink mug, took a sip of the coffee, and said, "I need to get cleaned up soon. I promised Shepler I would go to the airport with him to pick up Carla's mom. She's flying in from New Zealand this afternoon."

Alex traced his finger down her arm. She shivered despite being warm and cozy. "He's a big boy. I think he can handle picking her up on his own. Stay here with me."

She shook her head. No matter how much she wanted to stay with her husband, she still wanted to help Shepler since he had saved her life, married her best friend, and helped produce Amy's future god child. Luckily she knew how to get her husband to ease up on his very convincing tactics to get her to stay. "I promised him I would go. This will be the first time either one of us has met her. Would you like it if you had to go to the airport to pick up my mom by yourself?"

"No, but I'd bet Carla's mom is very different than yours."

"Let's hope so."

He gently took the mug from her hands and set it back down. "Okay, I see your point. Go ahead and help the poor guy out. I'm sure he's stressed enough about becoming a daddy. He could use some help just in case the first encounter with his mother-in-law goes south. I doubt Carla's mom will be anything like yours, but you never know."

"Not to mention, he has a new murder case too," Amy added as she slipped off her robe and climbed back under the covers. "I can't change my family or what happened with them in the past, but I can enjoy the present. I still have a few minutes to spare."

She had just maneuvered on top of Alex when her phone began chortling from its place on her nightstand. Alex laughed and pulled her head down to his for a lip balm-melting kiss. "It's probably Shepler making sure you aren't abandoning him. Go save the poor guy."

Amy's knee caught in the sheet as she tried to gracefully and sexily roll off of Alex. Neither goal was accomplished. By the time she snatched the phone off its charger, she was tied up in the sheets as if she were a crazy person in a straitjacket. At least she tried.

"Hello."

"Hey Amy, it's Brooke."

Not whom she was expecting. While she chatted with the food truck owner, Alex got up and headed toward the bathroom. He held up two fingers, pointed them at her and then the bathroom. Then he waggled his fingers over his head in a convincing rendition of the Itsy Bitsy Spider song's pantomime. She nodded. A shower for two sounded like the perfect way to end their reunion morning.

But when she joined him under the rain showerhead, some of her good mood had evaporated. Brooke had picked up some more information from vendors at the market. It didn't seem to be related to Esther Mae's murder, though. Unless her ghost was causing trouble. There had been a rash of shoplifting thefts over the last week, with booths losing everything from packages of homemade peanut butter cups to expensive sterling silver necklaces. Brooke had stopped by the bakeshop to tell Sophie about the problems, but she had wanted to let Amy know too. Just in case the information didn't get passed on the next time she worked. There were more troubling things afoot at Clement Street Market.

*   *   *

Amy stared at the wall of glass. People were supposed to watch planes come and go from the vantage point inside the airport. She was watching tiny, icy snowflakes pelt the giant window. Carla's mom's plane was half an hour late, and Shepler was a nervous wreck. Oh, he was trying to look cool. He had on his stony, serious work face as he stared at his phone's screen. But out of the corner of her eye, Amy could see the phone shaking in his grasp.

"Are you excited or scared now that the baby is almost here?" she asked.

"Hell yes, to both things." He slipped the phone into the breast pocket of his dress shirt. His green eyes glowed as though they were made of jade possessed by some ancient spirit. "It's exciting to know that a tiny person will be calling me Daddy soon. Even as close as a year ago, I wasn't sure that would ever happen. On the other hand, babies are so little and fragile. They cry, and you have no idea why. I'm afraid I'll break it."

"I'm positive you'll be a great father. I've heard babies are pretty durable and forgiving. You'll do fine."

Shepler ran his hand over his dark-blond buzz cut hair. "Yeah…I've heard that. Also heard that the birth is pretty wicked too. I know fellow homicide detectives who said they almost lost it when their kids were born. Are you sure you want to be there?"

"You know I'll do anything for you guys. Carla has been my best friend for years. She asked me to help at the birth, so I'll be there even though I don't handle blood and gore well. Now, here I am impersonating a limo driver to give you a hand." She held up the notebook where she had drawn Carla's mom's name on it—
Geri.
"It's what BFFs do for each other."

"I appreciate it." He exhaled loudly. "There is no rational reason for me to be afraid of a benign, law-abiding woman…yet I am."

Amy leaned sideways and bumped shoulders with him. "That's because you're supposed to be afraid of mother-in-laws. Just ask Alex. You've got a fifty-fifty chance—she'll either love you or hate you. There is no middle ground with in-laws, I'm afraid."

"Yippee." He twirled his finger in the air. "A fifty-fifty chance she'll hate me, huh?"

"Nah, those odds are for most people. I'd say you have a better chance than that… I mean that she won't hate you."

"If you could be my wingman and break the ice, I would really appreciate it. I don't always make the best first impression, something about being overly intimidating." He flashed a smile that was friendly—in a creepy used car salesman way. Maybe he didn't get the chance to smile much in his line of work, possibly always playing the bad cop in good cop/bad cop interrogations. He was intimidating without having to say a word. "How's this for a smile?"

That's what wingmen did in a guy's world? Critique forced smiles? That was much easier than fixing hair emergencies or helping choose perfect shoes. Too bad it was too late to practice alternative facial expressions with him. She would just have to tell a white lie. "It looks warm and friendly. Keep it up because here come the passengers from her flight."

Amy stood and held up the notebook sign as people emerged from the airport hallway. She could feel Shepler hovering behind her. It felt as though she was being stalked by Bigfoot. Several adorable grandmotherly women who looked as if they were heading to a Mrs. Santa Claus convention walked past and smiled sweetly but didn't stop. Shepler sighed when they passed by. Was the response in relief or disappointment?

Shepler's nervousness was contagious. Amy rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet. She looked down and focused on the modern art carpet swirled with red and black. When she looked back up, a woman was heading straight toward her. She had gray hair, but instead of being short and tidy, her locks were long and twisted into a wildly messy bun entwined with purple ribbons. The toes of her red leather shoes peeked out from under the floor-length, mud-colored linen skirt. A heavy chocolate-colored sweater that was several sizes too big completed her ensemble. The woman smiled when she stopped in front of Amy. "I'm Geri. You must be Amy, Carla's friend."

"I am." She pointed her thumb over her right shoulder. "And this is Bruce Shepler. Your son-in-law."

Geri shook hands with both of them. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I can't wait to become better acquainted with both of you and soon, my grandchild."

"Absolutely. There's plenty of time to get to know each other." Shepler pointed at the luggage carousel where the first few suitcases from the flight were coming down the conveyor belt. "I'm sure you're tired from the flight. Why don't we see if we can find your bags then get you back to the house to see Carla?"

"I have definitely spent more than enough time cooped up in that airplane. Over eighteen hours in a flying tin can is a bit tiring." She rubbed the back of her neck. "I can't wait to see my daughter again. I'm sure she looks very different from the last time I saw her but in a very good way."

They all worked at collecting the luggage Geri had brought for her visit. Amy took over wheeling the pink zebra print carry-on suitcase while Shepler hauled the bulging magenta-colored suitcases, which Geri pointed out, off the conveyor belt. He had made a good call bringing his new extended cab pickup for the mission. Three adults and the three suitcases would never have fit into either Amy's or Carla's small cars. It appeared that Geri was planning on staying a while. Hopefully the quickly multiplying family would all get along.