by Meg Muldoon
When we’d arrived, I almost didn’t recognize the Humane Society shelter manager. Instead of her usual utilitarian khaki shorts, T-shirt, and tennis shoes, Aubrey was wearing dark slacks, a lacey blouse, and a pair of actual heels. Her short hair was curled, and she was wearing smoky eye shadow.
Wes turned the flashlight off, pocketing it.
“Your pulse is high, but your blood pressure is normal,” he said in a calm voice. “From what I can tell, you haven’t had a stroke or a cardiac incident, so—”
“I know, I know – it was just another panic attack,” Aubrey interrupted, shaking her head and looking at the girl at the cash register. “I begged her not to call an ambulance and waste your time. But she did anyway.”
“I…” the girl started stammering, suddenly looking like her shoes were made out of hot coals. “It’s just, I’m the only one working here, ma’am, and you came in wheezing and having trouble breathing. What was I supposed to do? This is only my second week on the job and—”
“It’s okay,” I said, looking over at the girl. “You did the right thing calling 9-1-1. Right, Aubrey?”
I eyed the shelter manager. I knew she wasn’t feeling her personal best at the moment, but the way I saw it, taking it out on a teenager wasn’t going to help anything.
She looked over at the girl, then let out a sigh.
“I’m sorry,” she said in a quiet voice. “Thank you for caring enough to call. I was… I was lucky you were here.”
A look of relief swept over the teenager’s face. She nodded, then went around the cash register and disappeared into the back.
“Sorry to create such a fuss over nothing,” Aubrey said, looking back at the paramedic.
“You kidding?” Wes said. “These are the best kinds of calls – when it turns out to be nothing serious. Although I’d still like you to come in and get checked out at the hospital. Just to be safe.”
She shook her head.
“It sounds like you just went through a pretty harrowing experience, Aubrey,” I said, patting her on the shoulder. “Will you at least let me call your doctor for you?”
But once again, she refused.
“My doctor already knows all about these, and there’s nothing more to do,” she said, her voice weak as watered-down gas station coffee. “Anyway, I’m okay… I think.”
She gulped hard.
When we’d arrived, Aubrey’s red Kia was parked outside, taking up two spaces in what looked to be a parking job that could have only been done by somebody in serious trouble or somebody who’d blown the legal blood alcohol limit. We found her inside the sandwich shop, wheezing like an out-of-shape hiker at 17,000 feet.
Apparently, Aubrey had been on a date with her boyfriend – a man named Luke Hosmer, who was a Humane Society board member and local veterinarian – at a fine dining restaurant. She had said goodnight and left the restaurant alone about half an hour earlier and was driving back to the Humane Society shelter to finish up work on her latest editorial. But as she was driving through downtown, she noticed a black SUV seemingly appear out of nowhere and follow her every turn.
Aubrey had told us that she might not have thought much of that.
Except that she’d seen the same SUV parked in the Humane Society parking lot earlier that week, illegally taking up a handicap spot.
And she’d seen the same exact vehicle sitting outside her house a few mornings back, too.
The realization that she was being followed set off one of Aubrey’s panic attacks – an already frightening ordeal made all the more so as she was behind the wheel. Aubrey managed to pull off to the side of the road and stumble into the sandwich shop – the only place open on Brooks Avenue at this hour. And that’s where she called Daniel from.
She said the SUV continued on, circled back once, and then disappeared before we got there. She couldn’t make out the driver because of the bright headlights, but she’d gotten the first two letters on the license plate. Daniel was out on the street now, trying to track down witnesses who might have gotten a better look at the car and who was driving it.
I’d stayed behind at the shop, doing my best to comfort Aubrey – though I didn’t know how good of a job I was doing in that respect. She still didn’t look well.
“So this was the third time you saw this particular SUV?” I asked.
She nodded, gazing off into nothing.
“I wish I’d never done it,” she mumbled quietly.
“Done what?”
She paused.
“Written that editorial,” she said. “About the Pooch Vitamin Brew. It’s not like what I wrote changed anything. People are still buying it. And meanwhile, that psychopath is after me and…”
Her voice grew shaky, and she trailed off.
“You still think Connor Redfield is behind this?” I asked.
“I have no doubt,” she said slowly. “He’s a vindictive meathead with serious anger management issues… Just about the worst person to cross. I should have known better than to confront him in my column the way I did.”
I thought back to earlier when I’d stopped by the Redfield Brewery and talked to Connor. She described him pretty well. The way he’d spoken to me and then stomped out of there like—
I felt my eyes grow wide as something suddenly came back to me, hitting me like a train.
“What is it?” Aubrey said, noticing the change in my expression.
But I just shook my head.
“Nothing,” I mumbled, putting on a phony expression. “Just something I need to talk to Daniel about later.”
Maybe I should have told her then how I’d seen Connor Redfield get into a black SUV earlier that day in front of Redfield Brewing.
But somehow, I had the feeling that might just scare her even more.
Chapter 12
Even though he had flat-out denied it to both Daniel and me, it was clear Connor Redfield was stalking Aubrey.
Because when Daniel looked up the car registered to the brewer, it came back as a 2016 black Subaru, the license plate of which began with the same two letters Aubrey had seen when it followed her the night before.
Daniel could have gone and talked to Connor about it again, tried to warn him off. But since the first warning didn’t seem to make a dent, Daniel took a different approach.
He decided to follow him the next day instead. To see where Connor went, and ensure that he stayed away from Aubrey.
It seemed like a good plan.
But that afternoon, as I stood in the pie kitchen making up a batch of Peach Maple pies, I couldn’t quite shake the bad feeling that had settled in my gut like a rock.
I thought about Connor Redfield and the way he talked to me the day before. The anger that burned in his eyes when I’d questioned the safety of his product. The way he started stepping close to me, getting in my personal space, trying to intimidate me.
A man like that – who very obviously had anger issues – wasn’t someone you could expect to listen to reason.
Even when that reason came in the form of a warning from the county sheriff himself.
I tossed a pan of the peach pies into the oven and set the timer just as Tiana and Tobias walked through the dividing door, back from their short lunch break. Their voices were hushed yet cheerful, the way they always were when they spoke to each other.
“What’s wrong with the name Reginald?” Tiana was saying.
“It’s just that I knew a Reginald once,” Tobias said, grabbing his apron. “Back in the marines. Reginald worked in the kitchen and you’d have trouble finding a less-inspired cook. Had myself plenty of queasy nights thanks to old Reggie. Every time I hear that name, I think of watery gravy and hard noodles.”
Tiana smirked.
“Okay, let’s forget Reginald, then. What about Frank?”
Tobias tilted his head and nodded.
“Frank… now that’s a good one. Like Old Blue Eyes.”
“Or Frankie Valli,” Tiana said with a smile.
“Or Frank—”
“Now just what in the heck is going on?” I interjected.
I put a hand on my hip, looking at both of them with big, questioning eyes.
“Oh, sorry, Cin,” Tobias said. “Didn’t see you there. Got carried away in our conversation.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“A conversation about names,” I said, having trouble keeping the excitement out of my voice. “Tiana – does that mean that you’re…?”
I trailed off.
For a moment, my baking assistant looked befuddled, not understanding what I was getting at.
Then her chest began quivering and a thunderous laugh escaped her lips.
“Oh my goodness. No, no, Cin. Ha! The name’s not for a baby – it’s for a dog.”
“A dog?” I said.
Tobias nodded.
“We stopped by the Humane Society shelter last night. We’ve been in the market for a pooch for a little while, just waiting for the right time, I guess. When lo and behold, we come across this pack of little basset hound puppies. I had a hound when I was a kid. Best dog and best friend there ever was.”
“Tobias was so taken with them,” Tiana said. “We went ahead and reserved one. Seems they’re still a little young to be adopting out just yet. The lady at the shelter said ours would be ready to take home early next week.”
A bright grin flooded my face.
“That’s wonderful news,” I said. “I saw those same puppies the other day. I actually… I was thinking about adopting one, too.”
“Well, you better make sure to get down there soon,” Tobias said. “The gal at the front desk said it’s only a matter of time before word gets out in town about those puppers, and when that happens, they’ll go faster than ice cream sandwiches on a summer’s day in the Sahara.”
I hadn’t officially decided about getting a puppy yet. At least, not one-hundred percent. There were a lot of things to consider, and I wanted to make sure I didn’t feel rushed.
But now I realized that if I didn’t make a decision soon, one would be made for me.
I took in a breath, figuring I would give myself a deadline and make up my mind by the end of today.
I selected a Gladys Knight & the Pips album on the music system, then began work on a new batch of Lemon Gingersnap Pies – a flavor that was still quite popular this time of year, despite featuring some Christmasy-elements. But as I went about gathering ingredients for the filling, I couldn’t help but feel a sudden twinge of sadness. This pie always reminded me of Kara – it was her all-time favorite, and she always seemed to have a sixth sense whenever I made it, usually finding her way to my shop at exactly the right moment to nab a slice. But Kara was in South Dakota for a couple of weeks with Laila visiting her mom, and there would be no chance of her coming through the doors this afternoon.
I started mixing the lemon filling – one of the easiest pie fillings I knew how to make. This flavor made a good argument for that old adage about the simplest things in life being the best. In this case, all it took for lemony, luscious pie magic was eggs, sugar, condensed milk, and a good helping of freshly-squeezed lemon juice.
I grabbed the can opener and freed a row of condensed milk cans, pouring them into a large bowl. I added a heaping amount of sugar and eggs. Then I began whipping all the ingredients together before going over to the fridge and grabbing a measuring cup full of freshly-squeezed lemon juice. I was just about to add the citrus to the pale, creamy mixture when I suddenly stopped cold in the middle of the room.
I flashed on a pair of droopy dark brown eyes.
Some flappy ears.
And a precious little wet nose.
I let out a wistful sigh. Then I gazed out the window for a long, long moment, watching the pines swaying in a light summer wind.
Just thinking.
I noticed Tiana studying me.
“Here, Cin,” she said, coming up and gently taking the full measuring cup out of my hand. “I can finish this up here. You better get down to the shelter.”
Tiana had seen right through me like a glass of water.
I guess I didn’t need until the end of the day to make my decision.
I smiled at her gratefully, then I untied my apron and hung it up on the coat rack, trading it for my leather bag.
“I’ll be back in fifteen minutes,” I said. “Does that work for you guys?”
“Take all the time you need, Cin,” Tobias said with a smile. “Just be sure to pick a good one.”
Chapter 13
“What can I help you with?”
A lean man in his mid-forties wearing an oversized wool sweater came from a side hall and walked over behind the reception desk. He kept his eyes glued to a clipboard in his hands, barely taking notice of me.
When I’d walked into the Humane Society, nobody had been at the front desk, and I’d had to ring the bell several times to get anybody to come assist me. When I heard papers rustling in the back area, I’d been hopeful that it was Aubrey. But instead, a man I didn’t recognize emerged from the hallway.
“Hi, there,” I said, trying to keep the ridiculous and giddy smile on my face under control. “I wanted to reserve one of the basset hound puppies.”
The man didn’t answer immediately.
My heart skipped a beat, wondering if word had gotten out in town and if the puppies had indeed already been swooped up like ice cream sandwiches in the Sahara.
“Um… the one I was hoping to adopt is a little chubbier than the rest,” I said. “I hope he’s still here.”
The man rubbed his beard absentmindedly, still gazing at his clipboard.
“Well, the person who manages the adoptions is out, so you’ll have to come back. I volunteer my veterinarian expertise here at the Humane Society and I serve on the board, but I’m afraid I don’t know anything about the adoption process.”
“Oh,” I said, feeling a little disappointed.
I guess when I’d marched over here, I’d been set on the idea that I would be marching out with a puppy just as fast. Or at least marching out with the notion that I had safely reserved one.
“Well, I guess I’ll be back then,” I said, stifling a sigh. “Say – are you Luke by any chance?”
The man raised his eyebrows and looked up at me for the first time.
“Yes,” he said in an apprehensive tone.
“You’re Aubrey’s boyfriend, right?”
He looked even more surprised by that, then nodded.
“I’m Cinnamon Peters. Last night, when Aubrey was driving back here from her date with you, she called the Sheriff about being followed and we—”
Luke Hosmer put a hand up to his forehead, tapping it lightly.
“Of course, of course. I’m sorry I didn’t put it together right away who you were.”
He set the clipboard down and leaned across the counter.
“Thank you so much for helping her last night,” he said. “My phone went dead on the way home, and I didn’t get Aubrey’s messages until after everything happened.”
“It was no problem. I’m just glad she was okay.”
“Me too,” he said, a look of deep concern coming across his face. “I had plans to go down to the brewery and talk to Connor Redfield this morning about staying away from her, but Aubrey told me the Sheriff was taking care of it.”
I nodded.
“Have you ever seen a black SUV following Aubrey before?” I asked.
Luke looked up at the ceiling and let out a slow breath, as if sifting through his memory bank.
“Not that I can recall,” he said. “I mean, I’ve seen a car like that parked outside of Redfield Brewing several times, so it’s pretty obvious that Connor’s the one trying to scare Aubrey. But as to seeing that car follow her, I don’t know. Not that I’ve noticed.”
I nodded, mulling that over a little.
“So how long have you two been dating?” I asked after a moment.
“Almost a year,”
he said with a smile. “Truthfully, Aubrey’s the reason I joined the Humane Society board in the first place. She consulted with me on an injured cat case last year at my office, and we just clicked. I joined the Society here as an excuse to see her more. And, well… things evolved from there.”
“Aw, that’s sweet—”
Just then, the timer on my Fitbit watch buzzed, reminding me it was time to get back to the shop and get to work. Otherwise, I’d be facing a grueling all-nighter ahead of tomorrow’s Pooch Parade.
“Well, I better be going, Luke. But I’ll be back later about that puppy.”
“Nice meeting you, Cinnamon. I’ll tell Aubrey which puppy you want and we’ll set him aside. Make sure nobody gets him until you come back.”
“You’d do that?”
“Sure thing.”
That big, stupid grin spread across my face again as I thought about how that chubby little puppy would soon be coming home with us to Sugar Pine Road.
“Thanks, Luke. I’m most appreciative.”
He nodded, then went back to studying his clipboard.
I left the Humane Society and headed down Main Street back to the pie shop.
Walking on air the entire way.
.
Chapter 14
“Well? What’s the verdict?”
Daniel sized the two dogs up like they were a couple of felons circling a Mercedes Benz in an abandoned parking lot. His eyes went to each article of clothing – from their sand-colored suede vests, to their hand-stitched cotton neckties, to their leather belts, to their plastic pocket watches, and finally to the small Western-style hats sitting atop their furry little heads.
Oblivious to being the subject of intense scrutiny, Huckleberry and Chadwick milled around the back porch of the pie shop, trying out their new threads.
I waited in nervous anticipation for Daniel to say something. And then, just when it looked like he was about to, Chadwick let out an unhappy grumble and started pawing at his head.
And like that, Sundance’s hat went flying across the deck and rolled out onto the forest floor beyond the shop.
