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“Scary.” And by that I meant it was scary how good these ladies were at this.

The three of them had the discussion down. They’d delivered the information without flinching and with only a few minor bobbles. Maybe they’d performed this same show many times, with other women. It’s also possible they’d rehearsed what to say and when to say it, to be safe. Except for the tension pulsing through the room, they’d completely sold this version of the story.

“So, now what?” I asked, because the possibility of having to bail Gram and Celia out of jail still lingered.

“The police are waiting for more forensic findings, but they don’t have a suspect or a motive,” Abigail said.

There was that flash of relief again. Abigail really needed to work on that.

“Well, thanks for listening and for the coffee. I wanted to deliver the news in person since you both have been so kind.” Abigail smiled at Gram and Celia as she stood up. “As you suggested, I’m going to stay with my sister in Nashville for a while. There’s nothing much for me here, except good friends.”

Celia took the cup Abigail had been using and placed it in the sink. “When do you leave?”

“Due to the circumstances, we’re having a private memorial service for Cash. I need to help Austin figure out his next steps. He’s talked about returning to college, starting in the summer.”

I was going to need to know which college so I could stay away from it.

“The police said as long as I kept them informed of my location and was accessible, I didn’t have to stay in town. I’ll probably leave in a couple of weeks.”

Celia hugged Abigail. “We’ll talk before then.”

“Definitely.” Abigail treated Gram and Celia to one final, small smile before turning to me. “It was nice seeing you again.”

I waited until Abigail left, even watched her slip out and get in her car, before saying anything. “Did I walk into the middleof some sort of session to make sure you all have your alibis straight?”

“We don’t deal in arsenic.”

It was the way Gram said things these days that put me on edge. “You’re telling me you didn’t give her the poison or show her how to use it?”

Gram nodded. “Correct.”

“We provide advice and an ear. We listen. What a woman does from there is her choice,” Celia said.

A lovely speech. “So, if I break into the shed I won’t find arsenic?”

Gram frowned. “I told you to stay out of the shed. There’s nothing in there you need to worry about. Not now.”

“Let’s stop talking about the shed. It’s not relevant to Abigail’s situation.” Celia picked up a plate piled with freshly baked scones. “Want one?”

I didn’t know what to do with all the questions floating through my head. I went with the most obvious and troublesome one. “There’s no way the arsenic can be traced back to you two, right? All I care about right now, which is a terrible thing to say because a man is dead, is if the arsenic connects to you in any way.”

“It won’t.” Celia didn’t evade this time. “We don’t know anything about arsenic. I promise you Abigail did not get that from us.”

A scary but clear answer. My stomach started to unclench. For a few minutes, all the bad news and conflicting information bouncing around the kitchen made the muscles in my neck seize. I rubbed the sore spot.

“Abigail went rogue. We wouldn’t have told her to use arsenic.” Gram drank the rest of her drink. “Not when there are much easier solutions out there.”

The tension crawled right back up my spine. “Meaning?”

Gram sighed. “Don’t ask questions when you don’t want to know the answers.”

Chapter Forty-Six

The next day in the afternoon, for the first time in, well, ever, I called Micah. I wanted to end the charade, explain that the ladies had decided not to sell, and slam the door shut once and for all on a partnership between NOI and Mags’ Desserts. Handling that mess would leave the Harlan problem sitting out there like a blaring alarm, but I wasn’t ready to tackle him or his ego yet.

Micah’s assistant said he was out of the office today and tomorrow on something business-related. His trip provided a small reprieve and time for planning my next move. When he got back, I hoped to talk him into letting me work from here for another week. That would give me a few more days and nights with Jackson.

I’d tell Micah I needed the extra time to ferret out what other food deals might be possible in the area. Winston-Salem already gave the world yummy doughnuts. There were many other decidedly Southern food delicacies around here I could pitch as a possible investment.