Read Online Death Threads by Elizabeth Lynn Casey - Free Book Online
Authors: Elizabeth Lynn Casey
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game of kickball in the middle of the street and then turned to look at the woman in the passenger seat.
Debbie Calhoun was a pretty woman. Her pale blue eyes sparkled nearly twenty-four/seven, providing a perfect accompaniment to the ever-present smile that graced her face. Even now, with the weight of the world on her shoulders, she still managed to emit an aura of contentment to all but the truly observant. Barely in her midthirties, she not only managed to flawlessly juggle motherhood to Suzanna and four-year-old Jackson with her roles as business owner and doting wife, but also found a way to make it look easy. In short, she was the kind of perfection that normally brought out the claws in other women. But even that, she managed to overcome by simply being herself—sweet and genuine.
Which is why it broke Tori’s heart to know that deep down inside Debbie Calhoun was hurting.
“I didn’t have a single dine-in customer all day,” Debbie said with a shrug as she traced the edge of her seat with her finger. “In some ways it was good—it gave me a chance to get caught up on the books. But it also meant a lot of food got wasted.”
“But you had some people purchase items to go?” Tori turned onto Main Street and headed west, the businesses surrounding the town square closed for the night.
Again Debbie shrugged. “That part is actually kind of funny . . . the customers I know best—the ones I call regulars—avoided the bakery like the plague today. Yet the one person who has never liked me, showed up.”
Pulling her gaze from the darkened windows of the library as they passed, Tori focused instead on her friend. “There’s actually someone in this town who doesn’t like you?”
“Don’t sound so surprised, Victoria. I’m sure there are many more where Ella May Vetter comes from. She’s just one who’s never bothered to disguise it.”
“Ella May? Really? I’m surprised.”
“Me too. We never had a run-in, never had any conflicts . . . yet, still, if we’re in the same place at the same time she’ll act as if I don’t exist. The rest of the circle finds it funny.”
“Why do you think she doesn’t like you?”
Debbie leaned her head against the seatback and sighed. “The only thing I’ve been able to figure is she must have overheard the circle making comments about her somewhere along the way. Because, aside from sewing and talking, sharing Ella May Vetter oddities is a favorite pastime for many of our friends.”
Tori nodded her head as she turned onto Picket Way enroute to Debbie’s home on Tulip Lane. “I’ve kinda picked that up. Although, to be honest, the first I heard of her was just last week at the library. They were going on and on about her—”
“Man,” Debbie supplied. “I know. It’s the one subject all Ella May stories eventually lead to. Which is why Rose and Leona and Dixie and the rest of them would have been absolutely beside themselves this evening if they’d been a little friendlier to me.”
“How so?”
“Ella May’s man is about to become Ella May’s husband.”
“Are you serious?” Tori turned onto Tulip Lane, slowing the car enough to allow her gaze to focus on Debbie. “Details!”
“She came in to look at my catalog of wedding cakes. She doesn’t want anything too elaborate or too big and she wants me to use an organic frosting, of course. And, unlike my sewing circle sisters just now, Ella May was actually polite and friendly.”
She couldn’t help but notice the way Debbie’s voice cracked as Tori pulled to a stop in front of 15 Tulip Lane. Shifting the car into park, Tori turned and removed the key from the ignition before reaching out and gently patting the woman’s arm. “I’m sorry, Debbie. I truly am. But I think it’s the kind of thing that will die down. Sooner rather than later.”
Debbie turned her head and looked toward the pale yellow two-story home she shared with her husband and children—a home Tori herself
Debbie Calhoun was a pretty woman. Her pale blue eyes sparkled nearly twenty-four/seven, providing a perfect accompaniment to the ever-present smile that graced her face. Even now, with the weight of the world on her shoulders, she still managed to emit an aura of contentment to all but the truly observant. Barely in her midthirties, she not only managed to flawlessly juggle motherhood to Suzanna and four-year-old Jackson with her roles as business owner and doting wife, but also found a way to make it look easy. In short, she was the kind of perfection that normally brought out the claws in other women. But even that, she managed to overcome by simply being herself—sweet and genuine.
Which is why it broke Tori’s heart to know that deep down inside Debbie Calhoun was hurting.
“I didn’t have a single dine-in customer all day,” Debbie said with a shrug as she traced the edge of her seat with her finger. “In some ways it was good—it gave me a chance to get caught up on the books. But it also meant a lot of food got wasted.”
“But you had some people purchase items to go?” Tori turned onto Main Street and headed west, the businesses surrounding the town square closed for the night.
Again Debbie shrugged. “That part is actually kind of funny . . . the customers I know best—the ones I call regulars—avoided the bakery like the plague today. Yet the one person who has never liked me, showed up.”
Pulling her gaze from the darkened windows of the library as they passed, Tori focused instead on her friend. “There’s actually someone in this town who doesn’t like you?”
“Don’t sound so surprised, Victoria. I’m sure there are many more where Ella May Vetter comes from. She’s just one who’s never bothered to disguise it.”
“Ella May? Really? I’m surprised.”
“Me too. We never had a run-in, never had any conflicts . . . yet, still, if we’re in the same place at the same time she’ll act as if I don’t exist. The rest of the circle finds it funny.”
“Why do you think she doesn’t like you?”
Debbie leaned her head against the seatback and sighed. “The only thing I’ve been able to figure is she must have overheard the circle making comments about her somewhere along the way. Because, aside from sewing and talking, sharing Ella May Vetter oddities is a favorite pastime for many of our friends.”
Tori nodded her head as she turned onto Picket Way enroute to Debbie’s home on Tulip Lane. “I’ve kinda picked that up. Although, to be honest, the first I heard of her was just last week at the library. They were going on and on about her—”
“Man,” Debbie supplied. “I know. It’s the one subject all Ella May stories eventually lead to. Which is why Rose and Leona and Dixie and the rest of them would have been absolutely beside themselves this evening if they’d been a little friendlier to me.”
“How so?”
“Ella May’s man is about to become Ella May’s husband.”
“Are you serious?” Tori turned onto Tulip Lane, slowing the car enough to allow her gaze to focus on Debbie. “Details!”
“She came in to look at my catalog of wedding cakes. She doesn’t want anything too elaborate or too big and she wants me to use an organic frosting, of course. And, unlike my sewing circle sisters just now, Ella May was actually polite and friendly.”
She couldn’t help but notice the way Debbie’s voice cracked as Tori pulled to a stop in front of 15 Tulip Lane. Shifting the car into park, Tori turned and removed the key from the ignition before reaching out and gently patting the woman’s arm. “I’m sorry, Debbie. I truly am. But I think it’s the kind of thing that will die down. Sooner rather than later.”
Debbie turned her head and looked toward the pale yellow two-story home she shared with her husband and children—a home Tori herself
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