If Mashed Potatoes Could Dance (4 page)

“You never know. He might just get lucky this year,” I said.

Cece laughed again. “If only. We might not have to keep coming back if he did.”

I looked closely at her. She was most definitely pretty. She held her head with a tilt that seemed snotty, but maybe that was as unintentional for her as Teddy’s charm was to him. Maybe I should give her a chance, get to know her just a little better.

“There’s some yummy cake inside,” I said.

“Well, I suppose I should give it a try,” she said. “I’ve been trying to put on a few pounds to add more curves. My body just doesn’t want to hold on to the calories.”

Nope. There was no way she and I would ever get along. “You should have two pieces, then. We’ve got plenty.”

I guided her back inside and helped Gram serve. I didn’t have a lot of time to watch closely, but it was interesting to notice where everyone chose to sit, or who they chose to sit by.

The school was located in an old refurbished church building; it was long and straight and had a perfectly peaked roof. The kitchen took up most of the building’s middle space. It was equipped with a total of six six-burner gas stoves, three along each long wall, and lots of shelves and drawers that held every type of cooking utensil created. We had a number of
stools, but mostly they were kept to the sides of the space so the students could move around freely as they prepared their dishes. Six large butcher blocks filled up the middle of the big room. Gram had moved the stools down one side of the butcher blocks so that our guests wouldn’t have to stand as they ate.

Robert Hart sat by Greg and Georgina Carlisle, but Robert’s companion, Eloise, sat at the other end of the butcher block aisle with Vivienne and Charlene. Ash and Cece sat in the middle, their backs turned to the groups on either side of them. They didn’t seem to be having a conversation, but they didn’t seem to hate sitting next to each other either. Leroy didn’t sit, but walked around as he ate and talked to others or inspected the appliances. I was attempting to look confident in what we were going to do with and for our guests. Leroy’s critical glances didn’t help with my acting job.

“Well, I don’t suppose it’s ideal, but this could be fun,” he said as he pulled up a stool next to mine. Gram was roaming and talking and serving more cake and drinks. For someone whose sole job had been to clean the school when she woke up this morning, she’d slipped into the hostess mode well. Sally had waved and winked at me when I came back inside, and now she followed behind Gram, listening intently to the conversations. She seemed to have some comments as she moved from person to person, but Gram ignored her and I couldn’t really hear her.

“It is the current plan, but I’m looking into other possibilities. I don’t know if I can make anything happen, though,” I said.

“We should be fine.” Leroy scratched the side of his head.

He didn’t sound completely convinced but he wasn’t being nasty about it either. I didn’t want him to feel unwelcome but I thought I should mention another possible option.

“We’ll do whatever we can to make this more convenient for you, but Springfield isn’t far. You’re welcome to use one of our offices if you want to make some calls.”

“I might. The only problem is we’d have to turn around and come back tomorrow; all that travel time would take something away from their fun. This group eats at Bunny’s every year. They usually come through during the cook-off, but their trip was delayed. They’d be disappointed to miss the cookie shop, too, and one of them mentioned that they heard there’s a new cake shop in town, something about mini buns?” Leroy said.

“Mini buns? Oh, mini Bundt cakes. Yes, there is a new store right on the main strip of town. Delicious.” I was embarrassed to admit, even to a stranger, that I hadn’t taken the time to go into the new shop and introduce myself to the new owner, a transplant from Illinois who apparently knew her way around a cake recipe. She made mini Bundt-type cakes and drizzled frosting over the top of them. I’d heard only rave reviews, but even those hadn’t made the shop a priority. I cooked and baked and had Gram. I doubted anyone could make a cake better than she could. I wasn’t easily swayed by food reviews.

“See, we’d definitely have to come back for some of those cakes and, again, that travel time would mess everything up even more. There’s just not something they’d be okay missing. I might be their driver, but they pay me more for getting them to the fun than just the driving itself.”

“I understand. My other idea is in Broken Rope, but I need to make a call first. I’ll let you know.” I scooted off the stool. I was originally going to talk to Gram before I called Suzi, but it didn’t seem necessary at this point.

“Sure,” Leroy said, but he was distracted by Robert, who was making his way toward the front doors. Robert’s partner,
Eloise, noticed, too, and she jumped up from the far end of the group to follow him. “’Scuse me a minute.” Leroy followed both his wayward passengers.

Gram and I exchanged raised eyebrows. I pulled out my cell phone and motioned that I was going to make a call in one of the back offices. Gram nodded, and then Sally hurried to my side.

“Betts, I think something’s going on,” she said.

“What?”

“I don’t know, but those people—that group of people—well, a few of them seem upset about something.”

“They probably think the idea of sleeping on cots in a cooking school is ridiculous and will be uncomfortable.”

“No, no, that’s not it at all. One of them is missing money.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I’m not sure I could understand exactly, but while I was walking behind Miz, I’m sure I heard the old guy say something about his wallet.”

The
old guy
was the one who’d just exited the building. “He probably just left it on the bus.”

“Maybe. I suppose. But he seemed unusually bothered.”

“I’m unusually bothered when I lose money, too, particularly if my driver’s license or credit cards are with the money.” I had to remember that Sally was from a different era. Maybe she didn’t grasp our modern-day concerns. She wouldn’t know about identity theft or credit card fraud. But losing money was still losing money. Surely even back in her time, it was a worrisome thing.

“I don’t know what credit cards are,” she said, confirming my thoughts.

“Trust me, losing or just misplacing a wallet can be horrifying in this day and age.”

“Okay. If you say so,” she said, though she didn’t sound convinced.

We were in the infrequently used classroom that was back from the kitchen. There were fifteen combination desk-chairs that didn’t see much activity. Sally sat down on one of the desks and looked thoughtful and concerned. I’d take the time to explain it better to her later. As with Jerome, I was intrigued by the ghosts’ ability to sit and lean. If I put my hand on them, it went right through, never stopping at something solid—unless there was a little of the right low level of illumination, but thinking about that only made me miss Jerome more.

I looked up the number I’d just programmed into the phone.

Suzi Warton was not from “around these parts.” She spoke with a distinct northern Minnesota accent and laughed deeply when I told her our predicament.

“That’s one of the silliest things I’ve ever heard,” she said. “Have everyone come on over to the dormitory after they’re done with cooking or eating or whatever. It’s ready for guests—in fact, I was hoping to start putting out some advertising saying as much, but I kind of wanted the main house done, too. This will be a good test run.”

“We’ll pay you whatever,” I said.

“Oh no,” she said. “I wouldn’t feel right charging since all the amenities aren’t in place yet. The beds are ready—well, they will be. I just need to get some bedding on them. Even though it’s a dorm, there are half walls separating the beds, so at least you don’t have to open your eyes in the middle of the night and see the sleeping person next to you. Snoring, now there’s not much I can do about that. They’ll just have to deal with it.”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine.” I hoped they would be, at least.
No matter what, it would be better than the original plan. “Thank you.”

I called Teddy and told him about the changes and asked him to help Suzi get everything ready. Finally, I pulled Gram away from the group and told her about the dormitory.

“Well, that’s just about as perfect as we’re going to get,” she said. “Would you find Leroy and tell him, please? I’ll get the class started. My first dish was going to be the funeral potatoes, but considering the older element of part of the crowd I think I should stick with something more lively and less about death. What do you think—does twice-baked or scalloped make the better first impression. Or garbage hash?”

“People can’t get enough of your twice-baked. Maybe you should do those first,” I said.

“Deal.” Gram turned to Sally. “What are you going to do?”

Sally shrugged and seemed to think a moment. “I don’t know yet. I’ve been trying to think about the diary you mentioned, and I believe things are slowly coming back to me. Maybe I’ll search for it.”

“Sally, it doesn’t exist. Even if it did when you were alive, it can’t possibly be around anymore. You’ve been gone a long time,” Gram said sympathetically.

Sally’s face soured but only momentarily. “It might be worth a try. I’ll be back later.”

And then she was gone.

“I wish they’d twitch their noses or snap their fingers before they did that,” I said. “They just…go.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Gram said. “Come on. Let’s tell our guests the good news and then teach them a thing or two about the amazing potato.”

Gram’s rules when it came to potatoes were simple: fresh and medium-sized. She couldn’t abide potatoes that were too
small or too large. It took our produce vendors only a couple delivery rejections to know how serious Gram was about her food. And whenever there was a new truck driver, we had to work him or her in. Fortunately, the school was currently well stocked with fresh and appropriately sized spuds.

I did a quick survey to confirm that all were accounted for except one. Robert and Eloise had rejoined the crowd and seemed in good spirits. If the wallet had been lost, it must have also been found. The only person missing was Leroy. I needed to talk to him away from the group anyway, so I hoped to catch him outside.

Without anyone looking my direction, I hurried out to the bus.

“Hello,” I called as I leaned into the open door.

No one answered. I didn’t think anyone was aboard, but in case Leroy was and just couldn’t hear me for some reason, I took the two short stairs up and inside.

As buses go, it was extremely luxurious. It wasn’t set up like a famous celebrity’s, but it also wasn’t your run–of–the–mill, let’s–grab–a–bus-and–go–to–St.-Louis-for-the-weekend type deal either. There were two rows of seats, each individual chair plenty large and with more than enough leg and foot room to move around a little. The dark upholstery was plush, and the seats looked cushiony comfortable.

“Hello,” I said again. Still no answer. I couldn’t be sure all the back seats were empty but the bus definitely had a not-occupied feel to it.

I thought I saw a dollar bill on the floor about halfway down the aisle. I debated leaving it there, but curiosity pulled my feet forward. It wasn’t a dollar bill; it was a twenty. I picked it up, but before I could place it on the seat next to where it had been, I saw an even more curious sight. On that seat was
a bunch of other stuff. More money—bills and coins—some makeup, a comb, a mirror, a sparkly lipstick container, a small notebook, and a pack of gum. It looked to me as if someone’s—a female’s—bag had been dumped out. At first glance, I thought someone must have been searching for something and emptied everything out of their bag to find it. But after a moment, I realized that was unlikely. I didn’t know anyone who would have just left the mess as it was. Leaving some makeup and pack of gum out in the open was one thing; leaving what looked like about fifty bucks was something else entirely.

The whole scene sat funny with me. I felt like I’d come upon something that wasn’t for my eyes. I put the twenty next to the other money and hurried off the bus.

I couldn’t be sure if he’d noticed I’d been aboard or not, but Leroy rounded the front end just as I took a step toward the school.

“Hello,” he said.

“I was just looking for you,” I said, somehow without a hint of guilt.

“I was over in your cemetery having a smoke,” he whispered as he glanced quickly at the open bus door and then back at me. “Nasty habit that I can’t seem to break. I can’t smoke in front of them. Against policy.” He smiled. “Hey, that cemetery’s interesting business. Real dead people or just something to bring in the tourists?”

“More real than you can imagine,” I said.

“Get a lot of visitors?”

That had more than one meaning, but I wasn’t specific in my answer. “Yes.”

“So, why were you looking for me?”

I told Leroy the new plan. He seemed fairly happy with the developments, mostly happy that they wouldn’t have to
leave Broken Rope, though he wasn’t interested in participating in the cooking classes himself. Finally, he stepped into the bus, saying that he might just stay aboard and read and rest until it was time to take the group to the dormitory. He closed the doors with a grinding thud behind him. I felt like I’d been dismissed.

“Betts,” another voice said, from behind me this time.

I tried not to jump. There was a ghost in town. I needed to get used to their sudden appearances and disappearances again.

“Hello, Sally,” I said, walking toward the school and turning my back to the bus so Leroy wouldn’t see my lips move.

“I remembered about the diary,” Sally said.

“Oh?” I was actually kind of curious about her diary. Even though I was never a big student of the crazy history of Broken Rope, how could an ax murderer’s diary not be interesting?

“Yes. I think it was buried with me.” She pointed out toward her plot. “I’d like for you to dig me up and find it.”

I stopped walking and turned to face her. If Leroy was watching, he’d wonder what I was saying to myself. “You’re joking, right?”