Page 54 of Murder By the Millions
I laughed out loud. “As if.” Like Chloe, Tegan wasn’t much of a cook. Too wrapped up in a book or a tech project, she’d lose track of time. “I’ll give you an hour.”
“Bless you. Would you bring cookies? Mom’s favorites are—”
“Double-chocolate chip. Yes, I’ll bring some.” I always kept a stash in the freezer. They defrosted well without losing any flavor or texture.
I fed Darcy, checked his water, told him to behave, and headed to the B&B.
Helga met me in the foyer and instantly wrinkled her nose when she saw I was carrying a white pastry box with my signature label. “We have had dessert already,” she said stiffly.
“Yes, but these are for Noeline. Tegan is worried about her.”
Helga folded her hands. “All right. I will allow it. She did not taste the chocolate cream pie I made.” She lowered her voice. “Between you and me, Noeline is losing weight. I am not sure if it is because of that man.”
That manwas the one Noeline had been dating until things soured.
“I try to get her to eat more,” Helga said, “but she waves me off.”
Tegan could be right about her mother doing too much. The anxiety might be squelching her appetite. “I’ll make sure she eats at least one.”
“She is in the kitchen with Tegan. Also, if you will stop in the office first and tell Patrick to mute the noise. It bothers the guests.” She proceeded into the nearby parlor.
What noise? I wondered. I didn’t hear anything overt. And why was Patrick here so late? Was he falling behind, or had he hung around in hopes of seeing Tegan?
I swung by the office and paused at the doorway. Patrick was buffing the wall with a flat piece of sandpaper, whistling “American Idiot,” another Green Day song. Clearly, he had a favorite band. The whistling wasn’t loud. Helga was being a curmudgeon.
“Hi, Patrick. Sorry to bother you.”
He glanced over his shoulder, and his eyes narrowed. Had dust flown into them? He wasn’t wearing goggles.
“Helga requested you whistle softer.” I pinched two fingers together to signify the wordsMute it.
His glower morphed into a grin, and he gestured as if locking his lips.
I continued on to the kitchen. Tegan and her mother were standing on the far side of the center island. Noeline’s arms were folded. Tegan’s were spread wide.
“All I’m saying, Mom—” She caught sight of me. “You talk to her, Allie.” She huffed and mirrored her mother’s posture.
“Hi, Noeline. Is Tegan being bossy?”
“You might call it that.” The right side of Noeline’s mouth quirked up with humor.
“Some wingman you are,” Tegan groused at me.
“I didn’t promise to take your side.” I popped open the box of cookies. “Double-chocolate chip.”
Noeline snatched one and hummed as she bit into it. “Yum.”
“All I’m saying,” Tegan continued, “while your mouth is full and you can’t respond, is owning and operating two bed-andbreakfasts seems like a major undertaking.”
“I heard you the first time,” Noeline said around a second bite of cookie.
“Will you hire another manager? Who will you hire as the housekeeper and cook? Helga can’t be in two places at once. You’re not being reasonable, Mother.”
Noeline swallowed and brushed a crumb from the corner of her mouth. “And you’re not listening to my explanation, Daughter. I told you before, Helga has a friend who is equally efficient and talented, and she will be available. As for an additional manager, I can oversee both.”
“All the extra registrations? All the additional requests for tour suggestions?”
Noeline blew a raspberry. “I can do it in my sleep.”
