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“She doesn’t put any Xylitol in her punch,” Melly snapped, taking the phone back and sliding it into her pocket. “The recipe doesn’t call for that. It’s an old recipe from before Xylitol was even created.”
“You’d know,” Carla said. “You’re the sole person she’s share the recipe with. You made the punch while she was in rehab and since she was released. Other than the mostrecent punch, that is.” She sat at the small table opposite Melly. “I’ve got a friend who runs a PR firm in Boston. Would you like me to reach out to her to see if she has any suggestions? Unless you want to handle this yourself.”
“That would be wonderful.” Melly rubbed her face with both hands. “Thanks.”
“We’ve closed for the day, I take it. No wonder we weren’t seeing any customers earlier. This is horrible.” Carla rose and started pacing inside the tiny kitchen. “We need to open the shop soon. I need this . . .” Pausing, she sucked in a breath and released it, her hands fisting, then opening at her sides. Spinning, she faced us. “I’m going to go take a quick walk on the beach. That’ll clear my head and help me come up with some ideas to help you.”
“Actually, why don’t you take the rest of the day off?” Melly said. “We won’t open again today. When you get here in the morning, we’ll brainstorm.”
Carla strode over to Melly and braced her shoulders, staring into her eyes. “No one’s going to ruin this business. We’re going to fix this.”
“Thank you.”
Bending closer, Carla gave Melly a long hug. “I just don’t get it. You work hard. You’ve done all you can to make this business a success. People suck.”
“You’re right,” Melly said. “They do.”
Carla straightened. “I’ll call you if I think of anything, and I’ll let you know what my friend says. I’m sure she has some suggestions.”
“I’m more than willing to pay her if she has some ideas that can fix this.”
“Let me see what she says.” Carla’s smile came out grim. “She owes me, and it’s time for me to call in that favor.” She grabbed her purse and left through the back door.
Melly’s gaze met mine. “Why would anyone do something like this?”
“I don’t know, but we’re going to find out.”
Her phone pinged with an incoming text, and she lifted the phone and read.
“Like those ratings? Stop investigating or it’ll get worse,” she read dully, tilting the screen my way. “Itisrelated. Why is someone so determined to ruin Grannie Rose?”
“Let me see.” I wrote down the number and looked it up online, finding nothing. “I’m sure they used a burner phone. No one would send a threatening text message with their own line.”
“I feel like we’re no closer to solving this crime than we were when we started.” Utter defeat filled Melly’s voice.
I hated seeing her feeling like this. How could I give her hope? “Detective Carter was intrigued by the information about Sue and Alfred. He was going to question them both.”
“Alfred has a motive. My grandmother does not.”
Tugging her up from the chair, I held her, wishing I could give her comfort in some way. “It hasn’t been long. This may take time.”
“I know.” She leaned back in my arms. “Thank you for helping, for being here for me.”
“We’re going to keep investigating. We’re not giving up.”
“We’ll have to be more careful, or they could do something more serious than cut your radiator hoses or ruin my business.”
“That’s why we’re going to remain alert. If someone tries something, we’ll catch them.”
“They’ve been good at hiding the evidence so far.”
“They’ll make a mistake.” I tilted her chin and gave her a quick kiss before hugging her again. I spoke against her hair. “They always do, and then we’ll catch them.”
13
MELLY
The next evening, the chicken was sitting on the top of the stove until it cooled enough for me to cut, and I was finishing making the gravy, when someone knocked on the back kitchen door.
