Free A Crouton Murder by J. M. Griffin

feet to approach her door. My will to get this issue out of the way propelled me forward. How would the conversation go? I was about to find out and knocked on Seanmhair’s door.
    When she beckoned me in, it was with a slight smile and questioning eyes. I took a seat in the tiny living room and waited for her to do the same.
    “What’s going on?” she asked.
    “I’ve come to apologize for being short with you over Scotland. I mean it, Seanmhair, I’m very sorry.”
    “Bah, you’ve nothing to apologize for. I know I was pressuring you and it was unfair of me to do so. Your words cut me to the quick, but I had it coming. Never fear, Melina. I won’t leave you here in America alone. If there’s a move on the horizon, we’ll do it together.”
    I went to her loveseat, hugged her heartily, and heard her soft laughter. When I drew away, I saw the huge smile on her face. “I was feeling guilty for having been a nag, Melina. I’m sorry, too. Don’t let us have another misunderstanding like this, okay?”
    I nodded as relief flooded my system. I smiled at the sweet woman who’d given her life to me throughout childhood. All these years after my parents died so unexpectedly in a car crash, I’d grown to love her like a mother. I promised myself silently that nothing would come between us again.
    Seanmhair served me a cup of tea. We chatted while she readied for her date. I lingered long enough to meet the new man in her life. Mr. Graham, white-haired, blue-eyed, and gingerly in his gait, came in with a wide grin and a sparkle in his eyes. I couldn’t help but smile when he shook my hand, kissed Seanmhair’s cheek, and asked if she was ready to go. The transformation in my grandmother’s personality left me wondering if she’d fallen in love with the still handsome Scotsman. She was actually giddy. I hid my smile, said my goodbyes, and left them at the front door.
    My spirits soared. The sun shined on me as I crossed the parking lot and life was good. I drove home with happy thoughts, until I saw a man loitering near the front of Tingly Tarots, BettyJo’s reading shop. Dang, was this her stalker? I waited until the red light changed and scooted across the intersection in my Fiat. I’d nearly reached the row of shops when Franklin Seever pulled to the curb one shop down from BettyJo’s. The lurker hurried to enter Franklin’s car. Once inside, they drove east, farther into Providence’s historic east side of the city.
    Bewildered, I swung into the rear lot, parked my car, and scanned the other cars parked there. BettyJo’s sat among them. Had the stranger harmed her? Maybe even killed her? Panic stricken, I ran across the lot, leaped the stairs two at a time, and headed for the rear entry of her shop.
    Bursting through the door, I heard BettyJo reading someone’s cards. She never acknowledged my presence, or the fact that I’d entered her shop at all. I backed out, quietly closed the door, and slunk back to my bakery. At the least, my friend wasn’t dead. It was a red-letter-day all the way round. Seanmhair wasn’t angry with me, I had a date with the man of my dreams, and my best friend was safe. The thing that niggled me was Franklin Seever’s actions.
    Bread supplies filled the surfaces of both work tables. I dumped ingredients into the floor mixer and got the Boule bread started. There’d be enough time to mix a variety of breads before Aidan arrived. My first batch had finished mixing and rested in a huge bowl to rise while I began the next.
    The door flew open, BettyJo marched in with a thunderous expression on her face, and my heart sank. “What the hell were you thinking? You knew I had clients all day,” she exclaimed.
    I put my hands up and said, “I can explain. Just give me a minute to get this dough going and I’ll tell you what happened.”
    She plunked onto a stool and waited. I set the mixer to run and took a seat across from her.
    “This better be good,” BettyJo warned.
    “I’m