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June said as she wiped down the counter, “Now, there’s a pleasing hunk of man, been here maybe three years now.” She leaned closer. “Field Sleeman’s youngest daughter, Freddie, is after him now. I think he even went out with her a couple of times, then sheared off. Freddie is her nickname, which her parents hate. She’s maybe twenty-four now, went to school to be an interior designer. And no, I haven’t seen any of her work.”
Pippa’s eyebrow went up. “A bit young for him, isn’t she?”
June shrugged. “Only nine years between them, or thereabouts. In any case, who cares? A hunk’s a hunk.”
Pippa laughed. “True enough. So Chief Wilde decided he wasn’t interested?”
June nodded as she measured coffee into the pot. “Alas for Freddie, she’s not giving up. Would you like a slice of apple pie? Mrs. Hodkins makes them for us, renders our customers mute with pleasure, and gives her extra income.”
“What I’d really like is another one of Mrs. Trumbo’s oatmeal cookies,” Pippa said.
“Aren’t they delicious? Now, there’s a friendly woman, gruff and smiling, all at once. Tells you what to do, then gives you a cookie. She’s always talking about how important family is, but then she never speaks of her own family. I don’t know how many are left.”
“Her husband, Major Trumbo, he died before she bought the Calder Victorian and made it a B&B, right?”
June laughed. “Do you know, I’m not sure. She, Major Trumbo, and her son, Ronald Pomfrey, moved here half a dozen years ago. Mrs. Filly already lived here.” June shrugged. “The two former wives are the best of friends. Go figure. They still like to talk about the infamous Major Trumbo.” A customer called out, and June patted Pippa’s arm and was off.
Why was Major Trumbo infamous? But June was gone. Pippa called after her, “The sandwich was delicious. Thank you, June. I hope to see you again before I leave.”
June sent her a little wave. “Do come back, Pippa.”
It was nearly one o’clock when Pippa stepped onto the sidewalk and breathed in the fresh, clean St. Lumis air. It was chilly now, but tourists were still thick on the ground, eating ice cream, laughing, enjoying themselves. She smiled at everyone she passed and walked toward Whale Head Court and the Sleeman mansion. The house was still mostly colonial, with two stories, painted white with dark green trim. It was set back from the lane on a slight rise, with lots of maples and oaks and pines surrounding the beautifully maintained grounds. It was the only house on Whale Head Court with a big circular driveway. A BMW and a Lexus SUV, both silver, shined bright beneath the afternoon sun. The house was even bigger than she remembered. They’d built an addition that looked like a conservatory, with lots of windows and a lovely green domed roof.
A child’s voice said, “I don’t know you. Why are you staring at my grandma’s house?”
