was just about to push the door the rest of the way open when a man appeared, blocking my path.
‘Hi,’ I said, taking a flustered step backwards. I could see half of his glasses and some curly strawberry blond hair on top of his head. He didn’t open the door any further. He just peered out the opening at me with one eye for a moment. Was this Willard Jefferson?
‘Can I help you?’ His voice was gruff and the fact that he was still masked by the darkness inside and the half-closed door made me take another step back. Then I remembered the newspaper article about me, and my righteous indignation returned.
‘I’m looking for Elodie,’ I said, clearing my throat when my voice wavered.
‘Not in.’ He started to close the door, but I stuck my foot out to stop him.
‘Are you the editor?’ I asked. ‘I’m Susanna Daniels.’
He opened the door a little further. I could tell I had piqued his interest. I tried to look around him to see what was happening inside or if Elodie was in there, but his body still took up most of the opening, and I couldn’t tell if anyone was behind him.
‘Would you like to comment on today’s story?’ He whipped a notebook out of his pocket, his pen poised over the paper ready for a quote.
‘No,’ I said flatly. ‘I just want to talk to Elodie.’
‘No one talks to Elodie,’ he said, and with that, he shut the door in my face.
‘This isn’t over yet,’ I said to the closed door. But Mitzy and I trudged back up the stairs and out to the town square to continue our walk.
I paused in front of the empty store front. This must have been the place the Morning Pie Crew was talking about. I peered in the window. I could make out stacks of boxes and a large floor mixer like the one in the kitchen at the pie shop.
‘Can I help you?’ A woman’s voice behind me made me jump. I turned and saw a plump woman in her mid-sixties. Her dark hair was streaked with gray, and she wore it in a pile of curls on top of her head. She had sharp blue eyes.
‘My name is Susanna.’ I stretched out my hand.
‘Alice.’ She shook it with a crushing grip, and I tried not to wince.
‘Are you opening something here?’ I asked, hoping that it was going to be something that would stay open past 8 p.m. For once, maybe I would have fresh gossip to share with the Morning Pie Crew.
She sized me up and looped her fingers through the straps on her denim overalls before answering, ‘Just setting up my cookie shop. Hoping to open in a couple days.’
‘Oh, that’s great,’ I said, trying to hide my disappointment. Not only did it sound like a place that would close early, but it also sounded like competition. I tried to force my most neighborly smile, thinking it would be what Aunt Erma would want me to do. ‘I’m new in town too. I work at the pie shop down the street.’
I could have sworn her eyes narrowed for a second before she smiled. ‘That’s wonderful,’ she said. ‘I’m looking forward to stopping in and trying your pie.’
‘Come on in anytime,’ I said.
The silver cat appeared by Alice’s feet, and she scooped her up. The cat yowled.
‘This is my cat. I named her Cookie,’ she said. How original, I thought. She stroked the cat’s head while it struggled slightly in her grip.
‘I’ve seen her around,’ I said.
‘Are you planning to enter the baking contest at the Fall Festival?’ she asked.
‘I don’t know. I’m still honing my baking skills,’ I said.
She nodded sympathetically. ‘I wouldn’t bother if I were you. My cookies are definitely going to win.’
My eyes widened. She had to be joking, but if she was, nothing on her face gave it away.
‘Well, it was nice to meet you.’ I hurried off down the street, not sure what else to say.
‘You too,’ she called after me, making my skin prickle.
When we got back to the apartment, I immediately flopped down on the sofa, the exhaustion of the day setting in. Then I sat straight up and grabbed my computer and found the online form to sign up for the baking contest. I hit the keyboard a little too hard as I entered in my information. I sat back, satisfied. I tried to picture the look on Alice’s face when I beat her.
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