Apple Pie and Arsenic Read online

  Coming home meant so many things, but at the heart of her emotions was what the two of them shared. Because they were so alike in their love of baking and friends, it had been a wrench for Maddie to leave. And even at twenty-eight, it still was.

  Maple Falls was where her heart lay when it came to a place to live, but she had been on the cusp of something really great in New York. Having looked into buying a bakery with a friend, she was so close to having her dream come true, she could taste it. Pun intended. Then Gran’s SOS had come, and there was no other choice for Maddie but to come home to Maple Falls, because her feelings about letting people down were no match for how much she would do for Gran.

  As they drove down Maple Lane, the main street, people waved as they went about their business. Isaac Carter ran the local diner, and he was writing the day’s specials on the board outside. Maude Oliver, president of the Maple Falls Country Club and secretary of the town board, stopped poking the vegetables on display at Janet Mitchell’s grocery story, and Jed Clayton, a sweet old man, was walking through the park, whistling for his dog. The grapevine would already be well into overdrive to say she was back, but there was nothing to be done about that.

  Then they were turning into Plum Place. Now, this really was home. Maddie had walked all over town more times than she could remember, but this was her street, and she knew every inch of it.

  Everything looked the same except for one of the shops. From the front, it appeared neglected compared to the others. From this side, it was almost derelict, which would not go down well with the town board.

  Then they were past it and pulling into her grandmother’s driveway. Wisteria graced the porch, the purple flowers hanging like succulent bunches of grapes. The rocker—exactly how old it was made an often-repeated conversation piece, since it had been there for three generations at least—was moving gently in the breeze.

  Gran appeared in the doorway as if she’d been watching for Maddie. Knowing Gran, she probably had been. A marvel at nearly seventy, she’d recently admitted she was getting too old to maintain the family home she’d inherited from her parents. After a major bout of bronchitis last winter, she’d decided to sell. That had been a shock, but as much as it tugged her heartstrings, Maddie was here to help her find a new home. It was the least she could do.

  The wonderful family bakery where Maddie currently worked with Camille, was in the heart of Manhattan and did a flourishing trade. In fact, they were one of the busiest in the city, and they needed every pair of hands right now. They’d granted her a week for this unplanned break, and if that wasn’t enough time to get the ball rolling, Maddie wasn’t sure what would happen. The one thing she did know was Gran wouldn’t choose the first place she saw. She was a thinker, and that generally took time.

  It was difficult to think of Gran as old. Her ramrod-straight back and salt and pepper hair tucked neatly into a bun looked the same as they had for years, as did her smile and floral apron. Both were her trademarks, and one rarely appeared without the other.

  “Hello, darling,” she called out as Maddie got out of the taxi. “Good timing. I’ve just pulled an apple pie from the oven.”

  Chapter Two

  Maddie could smell the pie from where she was standing, and Bernie had a hopeful glint in his eyes. Once you’d tried Gran’s baking, nothing ever tasted as good. People came from miles away, paying her to make birthday cakes and delicious baked treats, and had done so for years. More often than not, she took less money than she should, and it was agreed by all her customers that whatever treat she made and whatever she charged would certainly worth it.

  Bernie opened the back of his van and carefully pulled out a large cage and set it on the grass beside the driveway. Once he’d taken her bag to the porch, Maddie gave him his fare and added a hefty tip for his trouble. Not everyone wanted a cat like hers in their vehicle, but Bernie never raised an eyebrow, and he always did the lifting, which was a marked difference from New York City cabbies.

  “Just you wait a minute,” Gran said to Bernie.

  He grinned in anticipation. No-one went away from here without something to eat.

  Then she gave Maddie a hug. They hugged hard, the way Maddie had been taught. The Flynn mantra was “Hug someone like you mean it, or don’t bother.”

  She savored the smell of apples and cinnamon, which was Gran’s brand of perfume. One that couldn’t be bought. One that meant love and home.

  Gran smiled, a little misty-eyed, when they let go and went inside to fix a plate for Bernie.

  Big Red yawned as Maddie opened his cage, then jumped out onto the grass as gracefully as he was able. “I’ll be inside,” she told him, giving his arched back the expected scratch.

  The big Maine Coon gave her a disgruntled look, stretched, and with a flick of his tail sashayed over to the shade of the maple tree that dominated the front yard.

  Poor boy. She could appreciate that his trip had been a great deal less comfortable than hers. Even with the air conditioning on, the taxi had been hot, and what the plane had been like for him, she hated to think. He wasn’t a cage kind of animal, and he would only get into it with great reluctance and many treats.

  For such a short visit, she would ordinarily leave Big Red with her roommate, but she was currently without one thanks to a monumental argument. Apparently, Maddie shouldn’t be upset over said roomie and Maddie’s boyfriend enjoying more than friendship while she was away at a baking contest. Dalton’s agreement that she was overreacting still reverberated in her head, and if she was truthful, she was glad to escape the drama.

  The kennels had let her know last time that Big Red wasn’t welcome back—something to do with asserting his authority overzealously with his peers.

  Trying to make the proverbial lemonade with this bunch of lemons had drained her well of optimism.

  Gran came out with the covered plate and handed it to Bernie who looked as excited as a child at Christmas. “I’ll expect that plate back next time you’re passing,” she said.

  “Much appreciated and I will.” He touched his cap and carried it carefully back to his car as if he held precious gems.

  “Welcome home,” Gran called out to Big Red. She gave a wry smile as Maddie joined her on the porch. “He looks cross. I guess he’ll come in when he’s ready.”

  “You know him so well.” Maddie grinned. “Now, tell me how you really are. I’ve been so worried since your call. I’m sorry it’s taken a couple of weeks to get here.”

  Gran waved her apron at the fuss. “I’m doing great, and I’d have been pleased to see you any time you could make it. I certainly didn’t expect you to be on the next plane.”

  Maddie had thought Gran might resist her help when she’d called to say she was on her way home. When no resistance was forthcoming, she’d assumed the worst. “I’m so glad you’re doing a lot better than I was anticipating.”

  “Goodness, did I give the impression I was on death’s door?” Gran chuckled. “The bronchitis was bad, but the cough’s nearly gone. Although, I do admit that the packing seems to have made me a little maudlin.”

  Maddie put an arm around her as they walked through to the kitchen, leaving her bag for later. “It’s only natural. This is your home, and you’ve lived here all your life.”

  Gran squeezed her waist. “Like you.”

  They were the same height of 5’7” and had similar builds. When Maddie looked at pictures of her childhood and compared them to Gran’s, they looked so alike that they could have been sisters. For a child without parents, that was a big deal.

  “Yes, that’s true, but I’ve also lived other places now. Not that I won’t shed a tear or two when you sell, but I’m sure it won’t be as painful for me as it will be for you.”

  “That you understand means a great deal to me, sweetheart. I sure hope you don’t mind using your vacation time to help me out. I hate to be a bother.”

  “Pssssh! You could never be a bother, so don’t give it a thought. Whe
re else would I take a vacation? Plus, I wouldn’t have let you do this by yourself. Real estate agents can be hard to deal with, and you’ll want to get a good price.”

  “I know you don’t take nearly enough vacation time, but I’m grateful you’re here now. The thought of tackling this on my own was pretty terrifying,” Gran sniffed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Your granddad took care of the big things. Tea?”

  They might occasionally talk about being upset, but being staunch was also a major factor in their DNA. They were tough, and they liked it that way.

  Gran’s daughter, aka Maddie’s mom, had been a handful, according to Gran. Rebecca Flynn broke both their hearts when she left, even though they’d tried every way they could think of to show her they loved her. It had gnawed at the young Maddie, and she knew it had affected Gran because she would sometimes catch her staring at a photo of Granddad and Mom.

  Fifteen years later, Maddie’s mother was still missed, but they had moved on from being sad, and tea was still the magic potion for everything. Being an Anglophile, anything English was close to Gran’s heart, but tea was her main legacy from her parents. Born and raised in Liverpool, they had emigrated to America when Gran was a child, but she’d never forgotten her roots.

  Her kitchen had shelves filled with an assortment of bric-a-brac that all in some way represented England. Single sets of matching cups and saucers with side plates, tea canisters with pictures of the royal family adorning them, and many teapots in a similar vein were lovingly dusted on a regular basis.

  “I’d love a cup,” Maddie said. “In fact, I need one. The traffic was horrible until we got past Portland. I hope one day they build an airport in Oregon closer to Maple Falls that’s big enough to handle passenger planes.” The one in Destiny was for light planes and helicopters, all privately owned.

  Gran carefully took two cups and saucers from the shelf, along with side plates, while Maddie filled the kettle. It was an old relic passed down by Gran’s mother, who had died long before Maddie was born and had instilled in her daughter the art of tea-making. Each set of cups and saucers was different and often had not been purchased together.

  Over time, Gran had accumulated more than a dozen sets. If a person came for tea more than a couple of times, a particular set became theirs. Maddie always used the one with a pink rose, while Gran’s favorite had lilacs.

  “I haven’t been to Portland since you were last home. Actually, it doesn’t interest me to go far these days.”

  Maddie was plugging in the electric kettle that was as important as the best brand of tea that Gran insisted on using. She turned quickly. “You’d tell me if you were still unwell, wouldn’t you?”

  “Of course I would. Why do you ask?”

  “You’ve always loved your weekly jaunts to anywhere the buses or trains would take you, and you’ve said more than once that you’d have to be taken out of this house in a coffin to get you to leave.”

  Gran laughed. “I did say that, didn’t I? But things change, and I have to be realistic. I’m no longer a spring chicken. I’m also thinking about handing over the leadership of the community group to some younger blood.”

  “What? No way. Those ladies depend on you to liven things up around here.” The club had been founded by Gran and a couple of her best friends, and they were forever searching for places to go and speakers who loved interesting things.

  “That’s the thing,” Gran said. “They need to change it up. This is the twenty-first century, for goodness’ sake. There must be other things to do that I’ve never heard of.”

  Maddie snorted at the idea of that group of women “changing things up”. They were the happiest bunch of older men and women, doing what they loved, but perhaps not all as open to change as Gran.

  Still, the club had played a big part in Gran’s life, especially after Maddie left. Since Gran had never learned to drive, a bus or taxi was the only way for her to get around unless someone offered her a ride to Destiny. Every month, she organized the community group jaunt to somewhere as a day trip, as well as their speakers. It was a shock for Maddie to hear her giving up on it. Who would take that task on now?

  Gran liked to be busy, and she also walked for miles. At least, she always had. She looked so healthy and fit, Maddie had a hard time thinking of her as either old or sickly.

  “It’s been good for me to be the president for so long, and it was something to keep me busy while you were away, but I’m over it,” Gran continued. “I’ve been everywhere several dozen times, and now I can honestly say that staying around home is far more appealing.”

  “Except you’re moving.”

  “That’s true, but a home is whom you fill it with, not wood and nails.”

  Maddie’s eyes prickled with tears, and she felt a distinct twinge of regret at the idea of someone else living here. Still, this was Gran’s decision, not hers. She sucked up her sadness and smiled as she warmed the teapot and added English Breakfast tea leaves, their favorite, then filled it with boiling water.

  “It’s so nice to be back in Maple Falls and out of the rat race, but I only have a week, which means we need to get on to finding you a new place, pronto.”

  They sat at the old oak table, which had been scrubbed so often that it was now much paler than it had started out. Gran pushed a pile of brochures and papers at Maddie, as well as a large slice of pie. It was still warm, and Maddie took a forkful, then closed her eyes.

  “Mmmm. I’ve missed your baking.”

  “I’m sure that after all that training in a French patisserie, yours is just as good, if not better.”

  Maddie tilted her head, savoring the pie. “Not quite. But it’s getting close.”

  Honesty had been a strong part of growing up with Gran, who couldn’t abide lies, so there was no point in false modesty. But how could you compare your own food with that of the woman whose recipes were loved by so many, and from whom you had begun to learn your craft? Gran had founded and fueled Maddie’s passion for baking, a passion that had never waned.

  She took another bite of pie. Yep, this was heaven on a plate. Gran was sitting across from her, patiently waiting for a decent pause, or for her to finish, whichever came first. Reluctantly, she put down her fork and spread out the brochures. Selling the family home was the right thing to do, but that didn’t make it easier. These walls held so many memories—most of them happy.

  Her heart sank at the sight of so many places to view. “Do you want to see all of these?”

  “I’ve circled a few that may be of interest, but I wanted to discuss another option.”

  Maddie knew that tone. Gran could be very persuasive in general, but when she adopted that tone, you could bet something you weren’t ready for was about to hit you squarely in the face and would probably stick like strawberry jam.

  She took a few sips of the strong brew then a deep breath. “Okay. I’m ready. Tell me what you’re up to.”

  Gran grimaced. “You’re being a little dramatic, and it’s not like I’d force anything on you.”

  She completely ignored Maddie’s open mouth at the unfamiliar censure and tapped the top brochure.

  “Here’s the retirement community Angel took me to visit. It’s quite nice, but they have a ‘no overnight guests’ policy, meaning you couldn’t stay with me. I don’t like that idea one bit.” She turned it over and replaced it with several more. “There are these.”

  She flicked each one by Maddie’s nose. Very fast. Maddie waited for the bomb to drop, and fortunately she only had to suffer the blur of papers for another few seconds.

  “Then there’s this. Now, I know you have your own plans, but please don’t say no right away. Read it, go see it, then decide. Okay?”

  Gran had begun to look jittery as she waved the paper in front of Maddie.

  “Good gravy. How bad can this be? My nerves are turning to custard.”

  The slightly wrinkled chin lifted defiantly. “It’s not bad at all. In fact, it’s a wo
nderful opportunity if you can see the potential like I do.”

  Maddie pulled the paper from her hand so quickly that a small corner of it remained in Gran’s fingertips. The front of the brochure was graced with a picture of a familiar block of four stores. A red rectangle was around one of them—the one Maddie noticed looked unkempt. At the end of the block, it not only sat on the main street of Maple Lane but backed onto Plum Place. Just up the road.

  “I don’t understand. You’ve decided to sell the house because it’s too much. Why would you want a shop?”

  Gran’s eyebrows shot up. “For a bakery, of course. If I buy the shop, that one there”—she pointed at the red one— “it comes with a two-bedroom apartment upstairs, and since they all back onto our road, they have small yards of their own. It’s a bit tired, but we’ve redecorated this house, so I know we can do the same to the shop and the apartment to make it just as lovely.”

  Maddie shut her gaping mouth with a snap. “You’re not making sense. You can’t manage a shop!”

  Gran looked astounded, as if Maddie had stupidly missed the point. But what, exactly, was the point?

  “No, I couldn’t, but you could.”

  “Me?” Maddie was as confused as confectioners’ sugar pretending to be frosting.

  “For goodness’ sake. I’m not speaking a foreign language. Isn’t that your dream? To open your own bakery?”

  Still feeling as if she were in an alternate universe, Maddie nodded. “Sure, but not here.”

  Gran sniffed. “Why not? I’d have thought Maple Lane was a perfect location.”

  Maddie had no idea what had brought on this weird conversation, but she wasn’t liking where it was going. “It would be if I didn’t plan on opening a bakery in New York City someday soon.”

  “It would be much cheaper to open one here.”

  Maddie tried to keep the frustration out of her voice. “That’s true, but I don’t have the money yet to buy a shop outright.”