Picture Perfect Frame (Tourist Trap Mysteries #12) - Lynn Cahoon Page 0,19

do that. Or I could put a pump of French vanilla in it. Same calorie count, but you get the vanilla taste along with the sweetness.” I filled a coffee cup with our medium blend. “And much lower in calories than your regular. Sometimes it’s the small things we do over and over that make big changes for us.”

“Now you sound like Matt.” She smiled at his name. She and Matt had been dating for years. He’d become a fixture in South Cove after arriving from a work program that had brought a lot of the businesses’ new employees. Including Evie’s cousin, Sasha, who’d worked for the bookstore. “He said to tell you hi, by the way. I’m falling down on all my social obligations.”

“No worries. Greg and I will have to come by some night once this investigation is over and we can all catch up.” I set the coffee in front of her and poured my own cup without any additions. I brought it around the counter and sat next to her. So far the store was quiet, but soon at least my commuters would come in and interrupt us. It was better to get the conversation over with.

“You’re telling me there is an investigation.” Darla’s eyes sparkled with excitement.

I shrugged in answer. “Maybe. The signs point that way. But I haven’t seen much of Greg since three yesterday morning, so I can’t give you any particulars. When he came for coffee yesterday he didn’t know anything yet. And that was the last time I saw him.”

Darla set down her pen and picked up her coffee. She gave it a sip and her eyes widened in surprise. “This is good.”

“I know.”

She took another sip, then set the cup down. “It was that Nan woman from the painting class who’s dead. Correct?”

Greg didn’t like me sharing information he’d given me, but he hadn’t given me anything, so I guessed I could play Clue with Darla without any guilt. But I wasn’t talking about Meredith and Neal’s relationship. That wasn’t my story. Not at all. “Yeah. Nan Gunter. Neal met her and her husband the night before, at your winery. Maybe you saw them there?”

Darla shook her head. “I hadn’t seen them before. Of course, Monday’s my night off, so I wasn’t at the winery. I’ll have to talk to Robin. She bartends on Monday nights. It’s always a small crowd, so once the kitchen staff have left, she would have been all by herself. Thanks for that lead anyway.”

“No problem. That’s about all I know. Neal might be able to tell you more.” If he was home, I added silently.

“I didn’t pay much attention to them at the painting night. I was more interested in talking to your new barista. Evie’s so fascinating. Did you know she wrote grant proposals for a women’s shelter in New York for a while?”

I did, but I’d also known she’d stayed at that shelter for a couple of weeks. That wasn’t my story to tell. “She’s had an interesting life.”

Darla paused, looking at me for a minute as if she could read my thoughts or something. But then she put it away. I could see the idea dive back behind her eyes and hover there for another time. “She sure has. I saw her walking her dog the other day. He’s so cute.”

“If I thought Emma wouldn’t sit on it, I’d get a pom puppy in a heartbeat.” I could feed my yearning by playing with Homer, though. And that was almost as good.

“I know you’re holding out on me, but I’m not sure if it’s the murder case or Evie.” Darla held up her hand when I started to tell her I didn’t know what she meant. “Don’t lie to me. I’ll let you have your secret for now. But someday I’m going to ask you to tell me the truth and you’re going to need to tell me. Because we’re friends.”

Now I felt like a complete jerk. Was there anything else I could tell her about Nan’s death? I shook my head and held up my arms. “Honestly, I think your best bet is to talk to Neal and your bartender. You’ll probably get way more from them than anything I could tell you. I only met them last night, and it really wasn’t a true meeting.”

Darla put away her notebook and sipped her coffee. “What else is going on in South Cove? I hear our friend Sadie and the pastor

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