Clobbered by Camembert

I entered through the kitchen and pulled to a stop at the heavenly scent of cinnamon, chocolate, and vanilla. The women of Providence had been baking. A pretty white platter filled with a variety of home-baked cookies was perched on the counter. A gaggle of women sat clustered around the Shaker-style square table. Each wore a turquoise-studded cowboy hat, including my grandmother.

They sang in a united chorus, “Hi, Charlotte,” then continued stuffing envelopes with colorful leaflets of some kind.

My grandmother split from the group and scuttled to me, her arms open wide for a hug. I went into them and drew in her strength for a moment, then pecked her cheek and snatched a cream-cheese Hershey’s Kiss cookie from the platter on the counter. Hershey’s Kisses and I had a longtime love affair. As the owner of a gourmet cheese shop, I knew that I should prefer something more elegant like Scharffen Berger chocolate, but Kisses had been my mother’s favorite candy. How could I resist?

“Cherie, such a delight.” Grandmere took a cheese and jam button cookie for herself and nibbled the edges. “Why are you not at work?”

“I needed a breather.”

“You do too much. You should arrange for personal time.”

“That’s why I’m taking a breather.”

She aimed her forefinger at my nose. “You want to talk about something. I can tell, but I cannot right now. We are so busy.”

“What are you up to?” I gestured at the group of women.

“In honor of Kaitlyn, we have created a local chapter for the Do-Gooders.”

That explained the cowboy hats.

“We will carry on her work. It is good for the soul.” Grandmere winked. “Of course, our first project will be to persuade the organization to support our local theater makeover, as Kaitlyn had planned.” She plucked a flyer from the table and brandished it like a banner. In glimpses, I saw photographs taken at the Providence Playhouse that included Grandmere’s latest plays, No Exit with Poe and The Ballet of Hairspray, as well as rehearsal photos for the upcoming Chicago. “To raise money, we are working on bringing the cast of Glee to do a one-night performance. The show is set in Ohio. It is perfect, non?”

I nodded. “Speaking of Kaitlyn, did you know her CFO is her daughter?”

Grandmere laid a hand on her chest. “I had no idea. What a horrible ordeal for the poor girl.”

Woman, I thought. A woman who was older than I, but I didn’t press the point.

“I didn’t think you liked Georgia, Bernadette,” one of the Do-Gooders said.

“Why don’t you like her?” I asked. My grandmother was rarely wrong about people.

Grandmere fluttered her hand. “It is not mine to say. Gossip is never fruitful.” She addressed her group. “We must let Miss Plachette know our plans to form a Do-Gooder group in her mother’s honor.”

The women nodded their agreement.

“She’ll be thrilled,” I said, though I didn’t believe it for a minute. My last impression of Georgia was of a woman who couldn’t wait to split Providence. Had she killed her mother in hopes of taking control of the company? How much was it worth? “Grandmere, what do you know about Clydesdale Enterprises?”

“Nothing.”

“Didn’t Kaitlyn share anything with you about her reason to return to Providence?”

“She intended to start a honeybee farm.”

“Did she tell you anything else? I mean, you seemed to be such buddies.”

“Truly, cherie, she was quite private. Perhaps your grandfather might know something. He has been at the Country Kitchen every day this week. You know how gossip abounds at the diner.”

“Gossip that isn’t fruitful?” I said.

She slapped my arm playfully. “Go see him. He is in the dining room with the twins, building an aquarium.”

A moan escaped my mouth. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t imagine taking care of Rags, Rocket, the twins, and fish, too.

“C’est rien,” Grandmere said, reading my mind. “The fish will live here. The girls will visit.”

I breathed a sigh of relief and pushed through the swinging door. The scent of wood stain hung in the air. My grandfather and the twins circled the dining table. Tools cluttered the oak-finished sideboard against the wall.

Amy, wearing a smock smudged with paint, broke from the project and ran to my side. “Aunt Charlotte.” She grabbed my hand as if she hadn’t seen me in days, not simply a few hours. How I wished I could bottle her energy and enthusiasm. “Come see what we’re making.” She pulled me toward the empty mahogany-trimmed aquarium, which sat upon a plastic mat atop the table.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Clair said. Unlike Amy, her smock was spot-free. Her hair was pulled into a clip and fell in wisps around her sweet face. “You can touch it. The wood is dry, right, Pepere?”

“Oui.” Pepere peered over a pair of thick-lensed glasses perched on his nose. “We are starting with the basics. Plants and neon tetra.”

“I love tetras!” Amy held up a plastic bag, which was partially filled with water. Inside, shiny iridescent fish finned about. “They’re so pretty.”

“Tetra fish are found in blackwater and clear-water streams in Brazil, Colombia, and Peru,” Clair said, sounding like a well-read expert. “They are peaceful fish and do well in aquariums.”

“Why are you here?” Pepere asked as he poured a bag of colorful rocks into the bottom of the aquarium.

I told him about my encounter with Urso at All Booked Up.

“He cannot arrest Ipo, can he?” Pepere said. “Not without these … what did you call them?”

“Pu’ili sticks.”

“Without even one instrument in his possession? It is not right.”

Amy stamped her foot. “Chief Urso is horrible.”

“No, he’s not,” I said. “He’s doing his job.”

“But he’s doing it wrong,” she wailed.

Was he? What if Ipo did mean to harm Kaitlyn Clydesdale? Except Rebecca swore that he never left her side that night. Who else would have known about the pu’ili sticks and where to find them?

“How is Rebecca doing?” Clair asked, her face growing more serious by the nanosecond. Whenever Rebecca visited the house, she played board games with the girls. They adored her.

“She’s coping.”

Pepere caught my cautious tone. “Ne t’inquiete pas, cherie.” How could he expect me not to worry? “She will rebound.”

“I’m not so sure. Losing a first love can have such an impact.” I thought of my first love, Chip, but pushed him from my mind. Now was definitely not the time for me to rehash my past.

“She’ll only lose him if he’s guilty,” Clair said.

I brushed her bangs off her forehead, not as certain as she was that our legal system worked to perfection. “Let’s hope so.”

“Girls, spread the pebbles,” Pepere said. “Make them level.”

As Amy and Clair set to work, Pepere wiped his hands on the apron he wore over his shirt and trousers and took a seat in one of the burgundy and gold striped dining chairs. “Pu’ili sticks, eh? I cannot say that I have ever seen those. What a versatile plant bamboo is, non? It is used in so many ways. Gardens, aquariums.” He lifted a bag of bamboo that would serve as the tetras’ undersea world. “What else is made of bamboo, mes filles?”

“Basketry,” Clair said.

“And jewelry!” Amy thumped the table with her palm.

“Oui,” Pepere said. “You know, Charlotte, I heard talk at the Country Kitchen earlier. I cannot remember who said it—perhaps that deputy candidate of Urso’s—he was saying how the marks on Kaitlyn Clydesdale’s neck were not consistent”—he scruffed his chin—“yes, that is the word he used. They were not consistent with a bruise that would have been made by a smooth rod.”