Read Online Kernel of Truth by Kristi Abbott - Free Book Online

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    â€œNo, I heard Jessica has already reached out to him about buying Coco’s Cocoas. She’s not wasting any time. It’s probably a matter of days before she puts everything inside up for sale, too. Any news from Dan about Coco’s case?” Annie asked, taking up her usual spot at the table.
    I poured two mugs of coffee, then pulled the cream from the refrigerator. “No. He has some theories, but as of last night, theories were all he had.” I poured the cream into a pitcher and set it on the table with the sugar bowl and then put one cup of coffee in front of Annie and one at my place.
    â€œYou didn’t have to make a fuss,” she said, pointing at the pitcher. “I can pour milk from the carton.”
    â€œIt tastes better if it’s served well.” I shrugged. My phone chirped. I glanced at it. Antoine. Again. I shook my head. “He has paid more attention to me in the last six months than he did in the last six years of our marriage.”
    â€œHe wants you back.” Annie smiled at me. “As any intelligent man would.”
    I sipped my coffee. “No. He doesn’t like to have failed at something. It irks him.” It didn’t happen often to Antoine. Pretty much everything he touched turned to gold. Except me. I turned into something else all together, something I hadn’t particularly liked.
    The phone buzzed again. “Is he going to keep texting until you answer?” Annie asked.
    â€œPossibly.” I picked up the phone, ready to tell him to leave me alone—as if that had worked at all the last twenty times I’d done it. But the second message wasn’t from Antoine. It was from Dan.
    It read:
    Heads up. We made an arrest in Coco’s case. Jasper in custody.
    *   *   *
    Dan came by the shop at about noon. “Want to have lunch?”
    I looked over at Susanna, her long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail and still damp from her postgame shower. She smiled at me. “I’ve got it. It’s kind of slow anyway.”
    She was right. It had been a quiet day, which was a good thing. I’d been all thumbs in the kitchen the entire day. I’d pushed a wooden spoon down too far in the food processor and ended up with splinters in my sauce. I’d dropped a glass measuring cup and shattered it into about a bazillion pieces. I’d burned my thumb by trying to pick up a saucepan without a pot holder. I seriously was a menace to myself and others. “Let’s go.”
    In another month we’d start to need jackets. It wouldn’t get seriously cold until January, though. I wasn’t looking forward to that. California living hadn’t exactly kept me weatherproof for winter in the Midwest, one of the lessons I’d learned accompanying Antoine to an appearance inMinneapolis in January. Today, however, was perfect. The sun was shining. In the distance, I could see the lighthouse, stark white against blue sky.
    And Coco’s murderer was in jail.
    Dan and I didn’t talk until we’d gotten a booth at Bob’s Diner. We slid into the orange vinyl bench seats and then all I had to say was, “Tell me.”
    He watched while apple-cheeked Megan Templeton poured us each a cup of coffee, gave her a smile and a nod and then said, “I wanted to ask him a few questions, see if he’d seen anything when he picked up the popcorn you’d left him.”
    â€œMakes sense.” I’d wondered the same thing. “So what happened?”
    Dan pressed his lips together and shook his head. “He acted strange from the second we got there. Too friendly at first. Inviting us in. Asking us if we wanted anything. As if either Huerta or I would be willing to get even a glass of water in that dump he calls a house.”
    â€œDan, you don’t arrest people—even crazy people like Jasper—for being too friendly.” I sipped my coffee and sighed. It was