Willow stayed next to Clover’s side. “A few things. One, you said Delonda had caused your candy business to fail. Yet, there wasn’t one vlog post about you on her YouTube station. Either she didn’t have a hand in your candy business failing, you never had a candy business, or there was something else entirely between the two of you. I chose the latter. Next, did you really mean to write in your own lipstick on my mirror? The only person I know who wears that bright of lipstick is you. Then, you ripped your bright pink sweatpants when you got tangled up in my bush in my backyard. Who wears hot pink when they break into someone’s house? Anyone else would have worn black. Your fatal mistake though was taking over Delonda’s column so soon. You didn’t count on Ms. Posey recognizing you for who you really are—Ann Baker. Not Annabelle Josephine Butterfield, from that Butterfield family. No, you grew up on the other side of the tracks and you completely fabricated a whole new identity for yourself. You played the part of the refined Southern Lady, the Southern Belle. Did I get it right?”
Before Willow knew what was happening, Annabelle—Ann—or whoever she claimed to be—was holding a small gun pointed right at Clover. “Shut the dog up or you both will die.”
Willow moved her hand toward her purse and realized she left it on the front seat of the car. Willow, your daughter warned you about leaving your purse places! Willow wanted to get Annabelle’s mind off the dog and tried to distract her. “Well, you didn’t tell me if I got it right.”
Annabelle smirked. “Close enough. Enough that you can’t stick around to talk about it, that’s for sure. Did Ms. Posey tell you that Delonda never let me forget who I really was? Did she tell you that Delonda was always whispering in my ear how she could ruin everything for me? How if I didn’t give her what she wanted and if I didn’t help her get the dirt on who she wanted to take down that she would threaten to expose me? Did she tell you that? I’m not a mean person. I’m not out to hurt people like she did. I just didn’t want to be poor Ann Baker anymore. I wanted to be someone who mattered, someone who had a history and a past they could be proud of. She ruined everything. Or she almost did.” She shook her head. “I can’t let you do the same thing. I won’t let you. I’ve worked too hard to get where I am. Nobody is going to expose me, especially not a Yankee.” She motioned with her gun hand to walk toward the house.
As soon as Willow started walking, Clover dove for her hand and the gun went off. Clover whimpered yet still hung on to Annabelle’s wrist. Annabelle was thrashing around.
Willow dove for the gun just as Steve pulled up and jumped out of his car. “I told you to wait!” He pulled his revolver on Annabelle who was still on the ground. Several city police cars pulled up right after he did.
Willow cradled Clover in her arms and cried.
Steve yelled to one of the officers. “Get that dog to the vet. We’ve got this situation under control.”
The officer picked up Clover and Willow ran behind him. Together they drove with the lights on to the nearest vet. She was immediately taken back to surgery. Willow hung out in the waiting room, the blood on her shirt reminding her of her heroine. She paced back and forth as she waited.
Embry ran into the veterinarian’s waiting room and gathered her mom in a huge hug. “Oh. Mom, is she okay?”
“I don’t know yet, honey. I’m hoping to hear something soon.”
Steve came through the door. “I had to come find out how you are. Annabelle, or Ann, whatever, is in custody. I have to get back but I was hoping there would be some word about Clover.”
As soon as Steve finished his statement, the veterinarian entered the waiting room. He smiled. “Clover is fine. She had more of a flesh wound than anything. A little R&R and she’ll be as good as new.”
Willow started crying. Embry did too. “Sheesh, Mom. When you said you’d replace me I didn’t think it would be with a dog.” They both laughed and hugged. “Still, I’m glad you chose Clover to be my sister. I always wanted a sister.”
The vet said Clover would be out of it for a while and to go ahead and go take care of police business. She would be treated as the hero she was in their absence.
Willow gave a complete accounting of everything that happened. All the evidence she’d found. And the statement by Ms. Posey, which solidified everything Willow had suspected. Ms. Posey was already at the police station telling the story in her own words by the time Steve and Willow arrived.
Ann Baker, aka Annabelle Josephine Butterfield, confessed to everything. She slipped the peanuts in her own serving bowls knowing Cookie would have those dishes washed before anything could be tested. Willow provided the perfect opportunity when she recognized Delonda and sent her soda can spinning and spraying everywhere. She tucked her peanut package in the stack of pans in the high school pantry when she slipped away to the bathroom. Then she waited for the opportune time to go back. But, by the time she went back to collect the peanut bag, Willow and her nosey daughter had found the incriminating evidence. She knew then she would have to deal with Willow. She just hadn’t counted on her getting a dog. About scared her to death when she broke into the place and the dog started barking. She thought for sure she was a goner. Once she realized the dog was in a kennel, she knew she wouldn’t get bit but the dog wouldn’t shut up so she couldn’t do what she had wanted to do…which was tear the place apart. She settled for writing a warning on her mirror and hoped that would be enough to dissuade her. She couldn’t believe Willow didn’t have a single tube of lipstick. She’d had to use her own, which any true southern woman would never leave home without. She hadn’t realized she ripped her pants on the bush and the police found them when they searched her house.
The rest, well, Willow already figured it all out. There was no candy store to go out of business which is why there was no vlog reporting the take down. The candy store was simply Delonda’s way of reminding Annabelle on an ongoing basis of the time she tried to kill Delonda. Annabelle used the story to fit in with the other suspects. Just another one of Delonda’s personal vendetta take downs.
All was well at the police station and Willow just wanted to collect her dog and go home. A bath was calling her name. Willow smiled at Steve. “Can we go back to the vet’s now?”
He squeezed her hand. “Yes, go. Embry, drive your mom. She gets into enough trouble navigating the streets when she isn’t distracted with worry. I wouldn’t want her to get into any more altercations with any rage filled drivers.” He chuckled.
“Yes, sir. I will make sure she gets home.”
Steve stepped close enough to Willow to kiss her. She half expected him to. Instead, he leaned down and promised he would be over later to check on her and Clover. And he would bring dinner. Maybe, just maybe, one of Oklahoma’s finest hot dogs.
Embry led her mother to her car and took the keys. They had left Embry’s car at the vet’s and she would worry about that later. By the time they reached the vet’s office, Clover was awake from her minor surgery and waiting expectantly. She had a few stitches they would have to be careful of, but, the vet allowed her to travel home with the stipulation she come back in for a checkup. Of course Willow agreed. They swung by her favorite fast food drive up and got her a cheeseburger. Willow sat in the back seat with her and fed her little bits as they drove.
Chapter 20
Willow watched Clover run through the yard. She had healed remarkably well. Willow had two storage bins of doggie treats and toys from well-wishers for a speedy recovery, especially from those who had been considered suspects. In fact, Richard had plans to open a doggie restaurant and was using Clover as his inspiration. The restaurant would carry both specialty dog dishes and people food. He had sent Clover the very first batch of specialty peanut butter treats on him. Willow shook her head from the irony. Didn’t they have enough dealings with peanuts lately? Willow had no idea if people would actually frequent such a place or if the health department would allow it, but hey, he had the money to try it. Let him. She would
take Clover if it ever got off the ground.
The ice cream shop was doing wonderfully. Business was booming. She had to hire a couple more employees to give her and Janie a break. And she found another lady in town to help with baking.
Molly, with the help of Beau, got her café opened in record time. Willow often had lunch with her. She loved the homemade soups Molly carried. Having Molly close by cemented the idea to add specialty coffees to her ice cream and sweet line and leave the soups and sandwiches to Molly. That worked fine with her. She even continued to sleep in. Both her new employees preferred the morning hours. Willow rarely dragged herself in before 10, and she loved it.
Summer was approaching and the city was gearing up for their ice cream festival. The whole town went crazy. There were carnival rides, ice cream eating contests, a petting zoo, all kinds of entertainment and all sorts of different foods to eat. Willow was extra excited because, being the owner of the town’s one ice cream shop, she was asked to be the festival chairperson for this year’s celebration. She was going to make it bigger and better than any of the previous festivals. Her only complaint was she couldn’t enter the homemade ice cream contest since she was the chairwoman.
Tires crunching up the driveway distracted her from throwing the stick for Clover to fetch. She waved to Steve and he waved back.
“I see she is healing quite nicely.”
Willow laughed. “Yeah, she was quite the drama queen for a little while. Talk about being a poor patient. I tried to remind her it wasn’t much more than a surface wound but she wouldn’t listen. Nope. In one ear and out the other. Just like my other daughter.”
He grinned. “Speaking of your other daughter. Did she ever find that engagement ring?”
“Ha! No, and she just happened to end that engagement. Rather quickly I might add.”
Steve took the stick from Willow and threw it out for Clover to find. “She sure is a good dog. Even if she is a bit of a drama queen.”
Willow’s Trophy Winning Chili
4lbs ground beef
1 lb ground pork sausage
1 onion, chopped
1 green pepper, chopped
1 red pepper, chopped
1 yellow pepper, chopped
18 oz tomato paste
1 can Progresso tomato basil soup
2 15 oz cans diced tomatoes, seasoned for chili
2 tsp hickory smoke flavored liquid smoke
8 Tbsp. chili powder
1 Tbsp. Chipotle Seasoning
2 Tbsp. Red Pepper Flakes
2 beef bouillon cubes dissolved in 2 1/2 cups water
Brown ground chuck, pork sausage, red pepper, green pepper, yellow or orange pepper, and onion in a good size Dutch oven. Add tomato paste, Progresso tomato basil soup (not the high fiber kind) del monte diced tomatoes (chili seasoned), hickory smoke flavored Liquid Smoke, Chipotle, Chili Powder, Red Pepper flakes, and the beef broth to the pot. Let simmer on low for several hours. It’s best if you let the chili sit overnight, but who can wait that long? Top with chopped red onion, shredded cheddar cheese, and a dollop of sour cream.
Willow’s Banana Bread
1 cup sugar
2 eggs, well beaten
½ c butter
3 tbsp. sour milk
½ tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. baking powder
2 c. flour
2 or 3 crushed ripe bananas
1 c. chocolate chips
1 c. nuts
Cream butter and sugar. Add eggs. Sift flour, baking soda, and baking powder together. Add to the wet mixture. Add remaining ingredients. Pour into well-greased loaf pan. Bake at 350 degrees for about 50 minutes or until a tooth pick tests clean. (Sour milk is prepared by adding 1 teaspoon of vinegar to milk).
Willow’s Almost World Famous Cinnamon Rolls
Dough:
1 c. whole milk
3 tbsp. butter
3 1/2 c. all-purpose flour, divided
1/2 c. sugar
1 large egg
2 ¼ tsp. rapid-rise yeast (from 2 envelopes yeast)
1 tsp. salt
Additional butter to grease pan
Filling:
3/4 c. (packed) light brown sugar
4 tbsp. ground cinnamon
1/4 c. butter, melted
Glaze:
8 ounces cream cheese, room temperature
2 c. powdered sugar
1/4 c. butter, room temperature
1 tsp. vanilla extract
For dough:
Combine milk and butter in glass measuring cup. Microwave on high until butter melts and mixture is slightly warm, 30 to 45 seconds. Pour into large bowl Add 1 cup flour, sugar, egg, yeast, and salt. Beat on low speed 3 minutes (with a paddle attachment if you have one), stopping occasionally to scrape down sides of bowl. Add 2 1/2 cups flour. Beat on low until flour is mixed in and dough is sticky, scraping down sides of bowl. If dough is really sticky, add more flour by tablespoonfuls until dough begins to form ball and pulls away from sides of bowl. Turn dough out onto lightly floured work surface. Knead until smooth and elastic, adding more flour if sticky, about 8 minutes. Form into ball.
Lightly oil large bowl with nonstick spray. Transfer dough to bowl, turning to coat. Cover bowl with plastic wrap, then kitchen towel. Let dough rise in a warm draft-free area until doubled in volume, about 2 hours.
For filling:
Mix brown sugar and cinnamon in medium bowl.
Punch down dough. Transfer to floured work surface. Roll out to a rectangle. Use pastry brush to apply butter to dough, leaving 1/2-inch border. Sprinkle cinnamon sugar evenly over butter. Starting at the long side, roll dough into log, pinching gently to keep it rolled up. With seam side down, cut dough crosswise with thin sharp knife into ½ inch to ¾ inch slices.
Butter two 9-inch square glass baking dishes. Divide rolls between the two baking dishes, arranging cut side up (there will be almost no space between rolls). Cover baking dishes with plastic wrap, then kitchen towel. Let dough rise in a warm draft-free area until almost doubled in size, 40 to 45 minutes.
Position rack in center of oven and preheat to 375°F. Bake rolls until tops are golden, about 20 minutes. Remove from oven and invert immediately onto rack. Cool 10 minutes. Turn rolls right side up.
For frosting:
Combine cream cheese, powdered sugar, butter, and vanilla in medium bowl. Using electric mixer, beat until smooth. Spread frosting on rolls. Serve warm or at room temperature. Goes best with a hot cup of coffee or a tall glass of milk.
Please enjoy this excerpt from ‘I Scream, You Scream’, Book 2 of the Willow Crier Cozy Mystery Series
Willow loved listening to the whir of her new cappuccino machine. She finally invested in re-doing the Willow Tree Sweet Shoppe and part of that renovation was a brand new specialty coffee bar. She loved the new look. She tried to please all her customers, which was tough to do since trying to please everyone has always been futile and completely against Willow’s nature. Her ice cream parlor was brightly lit with colorful candy hues. The other half of her shop was now the coffee bar and it was muted and serene in earth tones. She had a glass wall built between the two dining areas to keep the coffee bar area quiet while the ice cream side was more fun and playful. While the dining area was separated, the work area behind the counter was one long service counter. Which meant any employee could take care of customers on both sides of the store. It was a big investment, but so far everyone seemed happy.
She had doubled her business since adding the coffee line. People would stop by the shop on their way to work, if they were meeting a friend, or if they just felt like a good cup of coffee to go with the book they were reading. She even had an author or two who came in regularly to write. She had no idea authors lived in her area of the world. She thought they all lived in New York or L.A. She tried to peek every now and again to see what they were working on, but she didn’t want to lose their business so she tried not to be too nosy.
T
oday, her mystery writer was in. He pretty much kept to himself. He didn’t divulge much, but once in a while he would throw out an idea and get her opinion on it. He loved her coffee and pastries. The comfortable working stations helped too.
She finished making his coffee. “Here you go, Mr. Rune.” She handed him the coffee and took his fiver. They had it down to a science now. The change went into the tip jar which was split between all the employees at the end of the night.
Willow whispered his first name when he was out of range of hearing. Huxley Rune. Best-selling mystery author. New York Times Best Selling Author. She wondered if he had programmed Siri on his phone to say, “Hello New York Times Best Selling Author” when she was addressing him. She would if she was a best-selling author.
She looked at her watch. She still had a few things to do for the ice cream festival that was kicking off the next afternoon. Including getting her shop ready for the Karaoke party which started in less than two hours.
Mr. Rune would be taking his computer and leaving for the night when he realized what would be going on. Karaoke. The town loved it. He hated it.
Her glass partition wall was on a track and could be opened to make one big room for bigger parties. She loved it. She had so many options with this new system.
The guy she hired to run the karaoke walked through the door and she waved him over. She had a little stage in the coffee shop side, which she used for open mic night as well as karaoke.
“Hey, Mitch, what would you like to drink?”
He perused the menu. “Hmm, how about a bigger Frappuccino?”
“Okay, I’ll get it ready for you.” She had gone with big, bigger, and biggest to describe her drink sizes for the 12, 16, and 20 ounce size cups. She enjoyed being different. It was what set her apart.
As she was making the drink, she noticed Clyde come in. Clyde was fairly rotund with thinning hair and few teeth shy of a mouthful. He clearly was missing a few in the brains department as well. Some said he was just a little slow because he took drugs when he was younger while others said he was disabled. Willow wasn’t sure which it was, but when he was around trouble usually followed close behind. And since her days as a murder suspect a few weeks before, Willow was trying to keep her nose clean. Which was, for some reason, really hard to do. Because trouble also liked to follow her around. Put her and Clyde in the same room together and trouble pretty much was a guarantee.