And Then There Were Crumbs--A Cookie House Mystery

by Eve Calder

  Early on a Saturday morning, just one of the studios was open. And Sunny was leading this class herself. Kate peered through the glass. She was stunned. There were more than twenty students. Some of the faces were sort of familiar—people she’d seen around town but didn’t really know yet. Most were total strangers. But a few, like Bridget O’Hanlon and Rosie Armand, she actually recognized.

  She was glad she’d baked an extra dozen. The pastry chef’s motto: Too many is perfect; one short is disaster.

  Sunny, clad in a dusty-rose leotard and matching stirrup tights, rolled gracefully up from her chocolate-colored mat, stretched, and waved from the front of the class.

  Kate returned the gesture, feeling suddenly shy. She set down the trays on the large pine cabinet, already laden with butter, and jars of jam and marmalade, along with an assortment of small china plates, teacups, and silverware. On top of the hutch, someone had placed an industrial-sized warming urn. Which, judging from the scent, held an ocean of hot green tea.

  “So how is it going for the big reopening?” Sunny asked, shutting the classroom door quietly behind her. “Are you girls all ready?”

  “As ready as we’ll ever be,” Kate said. “We’re just hoping people show up. It’s been kind of a rough week. Especially for Sam.”

  “Posh! The crowd in Coral Cay loves any excuse for a party. They’ll turn up. Wait until our Pirate Festival later this summer. You’ll see what I mean. I just hope that old fool knows how lucky he is to have you. And he’d better be paying you well.”

  “Right now, honestly, I’d settle for a good turnout.”

  “Well, I called a few old friends of mine on the mainland. Teachers and such. Spread the word. And I know for a fact that Bridget and Andy have been telling all the tourists about it. So you might get a few from the resort crowd, too. Even better because they don’t come with the baggage of knowing Sam Hepplewhite. That man’s no murderer, but he can be a damned fool.”

  Kate smiled.

  “Why don’t you join us for snacks this morning? I have a student I’d love for you to meet. Glen. A photographer. He lives on the mainland, but he’s a regular at my Saturday classes. Single. And very flexible,” she finished with a wink.

  “Next Saturday for sure,” Kate promised. “But Maxi’s holding down the fort right now with Peter, so I have to get back. Fingers crossed, they might actually need me.”

  “They will, and you’ll do fine.” She stopped and cocked her head, studying Kate for a split second. “A little piece of unsolicited advice? This day will go by in a blink,” she said, snapping her fingers. “Stop worrying and enjoy it. Soak it in—it’s a celebration. And nice choice on the bike, by the way. Best way to get around the island.”

  Kate had to smile as she pedaled back to the Cookie House. Nothing got past Sunny. But she definitely wasn’t ready for a fix-up. Not yet.

  Although she had gotten a glimpse of Glen through the window. Sunny was right. He was cute. Or “yummy,” as Sunny would put it.

  But the other thing Sunny mentioned kept swirling through Kate’s mind. Could she just let go and enjoy? Her entire adult life it always felt like she had absolutely no margin for error. So she’d planned everything. With contingency plans, and double contingency plans, just in case. The first time she hadn’t, she’d ended up on Main Street with no money, no job, and a smoking car.

  But she’d survived. And thrived. And found her way.

  A clap of thunder heralded a flash of lightning off in the distance. A storm was coming. And if the darkening sky was any indication, it would be a doozy.

  Scary but exhilarating. Kind of like her life lately.

  Kate shifted into high gear and stood on the pedals, pumping furiously to reach the bakery before the deluge started. She’d had more fun in the past few weeks than she had since she ended things with Evan. Possibly even before.

  So maybe she could keep living in the moment. For one more day, at least.

  Chapter 46

  “It is pouring out there,” Kate declared as she burst through the front door of the bakery with her bike. “Literally coming down in buckets.”

  “Oooh, somebody looks like a drowned rat,” Maxi admonished. “I’ll grab you some paper towels.”

  Kate looked around the empty shop. She didn’t know whether to be panicked because it was already 8:05 or relieved that there was no one here to witness her impromptu wet T-shirt contest.

  “I’m taking this upstairs,” she said, wheeling the bike through the kitchen. “It’s coming down too hard to leave it outside. Hey, where did Oliver and Peter go?”

  “My guy is playing deliveryman for a couple of flower orders that have to go to the resorts this morning,” Maxi said, looking Kate up and down before finally handing her the entire roll of towels. “But first he’s dropping off Mr. Oliver at home with mi mami and the kids.”

  “I already miss the little guy,” Kate said, wiping off the basket first. “But you’re right. We probably shouldn’t have him in the bakery for the reopening. And he’ll be safer at home. Especially with this storm.”

  “If it makes you feel better, I sent him home with a bag of ginger snaps. And if he runs out, something tells me he’ll be back. That little one is very independent. And those towels are for you. That bike isn’t gonna catch a cold.”

  “Yes, but you don’t have to return me to Claire if I can’t come up with the next payment. Any customers yet?”

  Maxi shook her head. “I don’t think we’ll see any for a while. I can’t even see across the street. And the balloons? Forget it. Good thing I left them at the flower shop.”

  Fifteen minutes later, in a fresh navy-blue T-shirt, Kate reappeared in the kitchen. “I thought that tin roof was loud from down here. Upstairs it sounds like a herd of elephants tap-dancing on the ceiling.”

  “There’s coffee on the counter,” Maxi said, lifting her mug. “It’s that weak americano stuff you ordered from the food supplier, so it’s not as good as the brew you’re used to now. Hey, how did you get those jeans dry?”

  “Blow-dryer. And please thank Peter for including it in the suitcase.”

  “He figured we’d need showers at some point, spending so much time in a hot kitchen.”

  “Well, I got my shower outside this morning. Even if it didn’t include a bar of soap.”

  “How’s Sunny?”

  “She’s great,” Kate said, grabbing a mop and following the wet path from the kitchen to the front door. “She’s called some friends and invited them to our reopening. So we might get a couple of people from the mainland. Man, that woman is a living, breathing ad for yoga. Oh, and she wanted to fix me up with one of her students.”

  “Yeah. I was wondering when that would start. You’re the cute new single girl in town. Get used to saying no a lot. Or yes. Either way, everybody’s got a brother or a nephew, or a neighbor, or a cousin they’ll want you to meet.”

  “Did that happen to you, too?”

  “Not here. Peter and I didn’t move here till after we married. But in Miami? Ay, I couldn’t walk down the street without one of my aunties pushing a single man in front of me. It was like stepping around potholes.”

  “I know it sounds ungrateful, but it’s too soon. I just broke off an engagement. We were planning a life together. I can’t pivot that fast.”

  “Just say that. Or that you don’t date during months that don’t have an “r” in them. Or that you still love the last guy, but you can’t remember where you buried him.”

  “That one I like. As long as we never use it within earshot of Kyle Hardy. Besides, it was her I wanted to bury, which makes zero sense. Why is that?”

  “Because him you loved,” Maxi said, brushing flour off her bakery apron. “And it was all good until she showed up. So some part of your heart says, ‘Hey, it must be her fault.’”

  “That is oddly accurate. I still can’t believe Evan hired a P.I.”

  “I can’t believe you got the P.I. to work for you. It’
s like something out of a spy movie. He’s a double agent.”

  “I’m not sure Manny Stenkowski would ever make it as a double agent. I’m not even sure he’ll cut it as a private eye. But at least I don’t have a stalker. And at least he’s willing to try and dig into whatever Lord was up to in Coral Cay.”

  “Tell him to dig fast. By the way, if I’m locked in a bakery and no one comes, does that mean I can eat all the cookies?” Maxi said, topping off her coffee.

  “I think we can spare a few cookies even if we do get customers,” Kate said. “My plan is to keep baking all day. I just wanted to get a head start so the place would be stocked and ready.”

  “Prepare for success,” Maxi said happily, selecting a Toll House cookie from one basket on the counter, along with a peanut butter chocolate chip from another.

  Her remark reminded Kate of what Sunny had said about savoring the moment. “Does Sam have anything around here that plays music?”

  “Sure, he’s got an old radio. Like a little boombox? I think it has a CD player, too, but I don’t know if he has any CDs.”

  Kate searched the kitchen and finally found the small silver Sony crammed into one of the lower cabinets. She set it by the coffeepot, plugged it in, and started flipping stations. “Please tell me the radio signals around here are better than the cell phone signals.”

  “Much,” Maxi said. “On a clear night, you can get Cuban music. Straight from Havana. But today we’ll be lucky to get the Florida stations from the mainland. If we can even hear it over the music from our own roof.”

  “Yeah, it kind of sounds like a steel drum band. But it’s strangely comforting.”

  Kate played with the buttons and finally hit a channel that wasn’t half static.

  “WRAB,” the announcer said smoothly. “South Florida’s home of classic R and B.”

  “Oh, this is great!” Kate said.

  “I bet Francine would like it,” Maxi said between bites. “You going to invite her to the party?”

  Kate grinned, snagging a peanut butter chocolate chip cookie for herself. “At this rate, I just might. You know the first thing we should buy with all our many millions? An iPod and a couple of decent speakers.” She reached over and cranked up the volume as the Four Tops launched into “It’s the Same Old Song.”

  “You mean, after we pay off that super expensive ride you bought from Claire?” Maxi teased.

  “Exactly. So what are you going to buy first?”

  “A decent bed for this friend I know. I can’t believe you really slept on that pile of Popsicle sticks upstairs.”

  “It’s like a hammock,” Kate admitted sheepishly. “It’s very comfy once you get settled. It’s just a little tricky getting in and out.”

  “It’s a death trap. Seriously, if we had las ratas we could put a piece of cheese in the middle and use it to capture them. But only the really slow-moving ones.”

  “Hey, I’m one of the really slow-moving ones. And I like that cot. It may not be resort quality, but it beats my sister’s guest room.”

  “Which is nowhere as good as my guest room because she doesn’t have the Star Wars sheets with matching drapes. She doesn’t, does she?”

  “Not in this lifetime,” Kate said. “Nothing below an eight-hundred-thread count. Besides she hates that movie.”

  “She doesn’t like Luke Skywalker? And Yoda? Who doesn’t like Yoda?”

  “Calls the whole franchise ‘subversive.’ Jeanine isn’t a fan of anything that even hints at children defying their parents. She’s a little tightly wound.” Kate sighed. “She’s also mad at me for dumping Evan. Part of the reason I haven’t charged my phone?”

  Maxi nodded.

  “I know there’s going to be, like, a dozen messages from her demanding that I make up with him. Listening to her is like taking a bath in vinegar. It doesn’t change anything. It just hurts.”

  “Yowch! Why’s it so important to her?”

  “Evan is a Thorpe.”

  “So?”

  “One of those Thorpes. You know, the Mayflower. Old money. Lots of connections.”

  “Yeah, I know who they are, but so what?”

  “This is a horrible thing to say about my own sister. But I think she loved the idea of being related to Evan. I mean, I don’t know what she pictured, exactly. It’s not like his mother was going to have them over for Thanksgiving dinner. But I think Jeanine saw our wedding as opening the door to a new world. And maybe not so much for her as for the twins.”

  “Like country club doors and Ivy League doors?” Maxi asked.

  “Exactly. Now that imaginary door’s closing and she’s livid.”

  “So let her marry him.”

  Kate giggled. “You know, if I ever charge that phone I might say exactly that.”

  “Hey, Cookie Lady! Is this place open?”

  “Oh my gosh,” Maxi whispered. “We have a customer!”

  Kate hustled into the shop to find a band of bedraggled, half-drowned teens in bathing suits and board shorts.

  “Hi, Justin. We’re open, but we didn’t think anybody would be out in this weather. How about some hot coffee to warm you guys up? And we’ve got towels if you want to dry off.”

  “Nah, we’re good. We just needed to get off the beach until the storm blows over. I told the guys I knew exactly where we should go. Parked the boards on the porch, if that’s copacetic?”

  “Absolutely. So what would you like to start?”

  As she said that, Maxi came through the swinging doors with a tray of steaming mugs. “Here you go. This will help you get warm. And it goes great with any kind of cookies. Not that I’d know.”

  “Oooh, thank you, Mrs. Más-Buchanan,” said one blond girl in a black wet suit as the rest clustered around the tray.

  “Thank you,” another one mumbled.

  “We’ve got lots more,” Maxi said. “Just made a big pot.”

  “I told ’em about your trick,” Justin said. “The one you did on my sister. Where you guessed her favorite cookie?”

  “Yeah,” said the blond girl. “But we didn’t believe him. How’s it even possible?”

  “Kind of like standing on a board supported by nothing but a moving wave of water,” Kate said. “It doesn’t seem possible, when you really think about it. But with enough practice, no sweat.”

  Justin grinned as Kate presented him with a tray of shortbread. He grabbed four cookies with a large paw, and she set the tray on the counter so everyone could help themselves.

  “And something tells me you’re a Toll House girl,” Kate said, retrieving another tray from behind the bakery case and placing it carefully on the counter.

  “How about me?” called a teen in a blue swimsuit with a Union Jack patch.

  “Oatmeal,” Kate said, placing another tray on the counter. “Have them right here.”

  “Oh man, these are so good!” Justin said happily. “Buttery.”

  “And you,” Kate said to a shy girl in a drenched blue Gators sweatshirt who lingered near the doorway clutching her coffee mug. “Something tells me you like peanut butter cookies.” Kate set a fourth tray on the counter. “But you might also want to try these,” she said, lifting out a fifth tray. “Peanut butter chocolate chip. They could become your new favorite.”

  “I like those a lot,” Maxi admitted. “Salty and sweet.”

  Tentatively, the girl moved toward the counter and took one. As she nibbled the edge, her face bloomed into a smile.

  “Justin, I don’t know if you’ve had the chance to really see it, but the Cookie House looks gorgeous. You guys did a beautiful job.”

  “Well, if you run into my dad, I had nothing to do with it. Mom knows, but he thinks I was out chasing nugs.”

  Kate mimed turning an imaginary lock over her mouth. “Surfing at the beach, got it. But stop by later today, too, and you can take home some breads. You don’t have to say where you got them.”

  “Ooh, contraband carbs! Love it!” Justin cackled.r />
  “Is this a private party or is anyone welcome?” Ben said, banging through the door.

  “How do you like your coffee?” Maxi called over the counter.

  “Well, uh…”

  “Relax, it’s that weak americano stuff,” she added.

  “In that case, black. A nice big cup. It’s wet out there. Blowing in right off the water. I swear it’s half rain, half salt. Nasty.”

  Maxi appeared in the shop with a tray bearing a steaming mug and a glass pot full of coffee. She handed off the mug to Ben with a wink. “It’s the biggest cup we have. But refills are free,” she said, topping off everyone’s cup.

  “So what will you have for breakfast, Detective?” Kate asked. “We’ve got cookies, we’ve got croissants. And we’ve got some great yeast rolls.”

  “And if you pick cookies, she can tell you exactly what kind you like best,” said the girl in the wet suit. “It’s spooky cool.”

  Ben scratched his chin. “Well, I’ve got to admit, I’ve never seen that before. Give it your best shot.”

  Kate took a deep breath and let everything else go. In that second, she could practically taste it. A deep, rich chocolate crinkle cookie. With a light dusting of powdered sugar.

  “You’re in luck. We popped in a batch just before dawn. Have them in the back, freshly dusted.”

  She reappeared from the kitchen with a basket full of crinkle cookies.

  “How did you…?” Ben started.

  “Observation and deduction. And more than a few years as a pastry chef.”

  Ben grabbed a handful and popped one in his mouth. Then he closed his eyes and smiled. “Oh man, this takes me back. To my nana’s kitchen. Lady, you’ve got a serious talent. And I don’t mean the cookie-guessing thing.”