Changing Fortune Cookies

by P. D. Workman

  He couldn’t believe that he was going to get more than one spoonful. It seemed like an embarrassment of riches. He’d never known that food could taste so good and be so satisfying. Just one spoonful had been enough to change everything.

  He ate the next bite, and the next. They kept coming.

  He didn’t ask for water. He didn’t ask his captor any questions about where he was or why he was there, or why his hands had been bound. He didn’t know what the shadow shape wanted, other than for Joshua to be quiet and compliant. And it didn’t matter.

  As long as he got soup.

  By the time the spoon was scraping across the bottom of the bowl for every spoonful, his stomach hurt. It felt full to bursting. But he was determined not to say that he was full. He would get every drop he could, no matter how big and bloated his belly got from the soup.

  “That’s it,” the whisperer said.

  Joshua swallowed once more, grateful for the way that soup had soothed his raw, dry throat. “Thank you.”

  “You liked it?”

  “Yes, it was wonderful.”

  “It’s an old family recipe.”

  Joshua breathed in and out a few times. “That’s the best kind of recipe.”

  “Yes, you’re right.” There was silence for a few moments. “Do you cook?”

  Joshua cleared his throat, not sure how much he was going to be able to talk. He hadn’t used his voice for several wakenings, though he didn’t know what kind of period that covered. It seemed like a long time.

  “I cook a little. My mom doesn’t always have time and we try to help out.” He swallowed. His tongue and his tonsils still felt swollen, hard to speak around. “My dad… he was a good cook.”

  “What happened to him?”

  Joshua wondered if it was a test of his honesty. Everyone in Bald Eagle Falls knew what had happened to Roger. “He’s… in a place now. For people with… he has a brain injury. He was… a danger to others.”

  “That must be hard.”

  “Yeah. It is. But it’s easier than when he was at home, and we had to keep track of him, try to make sure that he didn’t wander off. And to… try to keep him calm.” Another difficult swallow. “He had… moods.”

  “He hit you,” the figure guessed.

  “He… he never hurt us on purpose.”

  A derisive snort from his captor. “Sure.”

  “He had a brain injury. It changed things.”

  His captor covered the empty bowl, obviously preparing to get up and leave.

  “Can you… stay for a few more minutes?” Joshua asked.

  The reflective surface of the goggles turned toward him. “Why?”

  “I just… I miss people. I like having someone here for a bit.”

  The shadowy figure stayed by him, but didn’t continue the conversation. Eventually, Josh’s eyes started to close. He tried to keep himself alert, looking for something else to talk about or another way to keep himself awake.

  But he was too afraid of how the figure would respond if he started asking questions or did something unexpected. Eventually, he lost the battle against his body and drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter 20

  Erin’s mind was finally at ease, sure that the police department would now put all of their resources into finding Joshua. Was it just her nature that made her want to fix everything, or was it because her name had been mentioned in the note? Either way, she felt like it was her responsibility to find Josh, or at least to convince the police that he had really been the victim and was not just a runaway.

  Maybe it was because when she was a runaway, people had found her and brought her back. Until she was old enough that no one cared to look for her anymore. Right around the time she was Joshua’s age. Things had subtly changed at that point. Even though she hadn’t yet aged out of foster care, officials were more inclined to shrug their shoulders and say she was old enough to decide where she wanted to be.

  Even if she didn’t know where she wanted to be, just that she needed to be somewhere else. Somewhere safe.

  Terry would find Josh. Or the sheriff or the FBI or one of the other officers would turn up a vital clue that would lead them to Josh. And they would take him home to Mary Lou.

  Josh was still wanted.

  Erin was more cheerful, mixing her batters and doughs and preparing the sweet and savory treats for Auntie Clem’s loyal customers. She felt generous and benevolent toward them, willing to look past their minor failings. She liked Bald Eagle Falls. She loved Auntie Clem’s and her employees and her customers. Things were looking up.

  She put a couple of items on sale just for the heck of it. She always carefully planned and advertised her promotions, so the spontaneous sale made Vic raise her eyebrows in surprise.

  “Okay… that’s nice. That will make people happy.”

  Erin nodded cheerfully. “I hope so. I’m feeling very philanthropic today.”

  “Philanthropic. Well, there’s a five-dollar word.”

  Erin just smiled.

  If Charley came in, Erin might even give her a free muffin for once.

  “We should take some treats over to the police department today.”

  “Sure. Since you’re feeling philanthropic,” Vic agreed.

  Erin grabbed a box and retreated to the kitchen to fill it with cookies set out on the cooling racks. They were still warm from the oven, but cool enough to be handled without falling apart.

  “Do you mind if I run these over?” she asked Vic.

  “You’re in charge! You can do what you like.”

  “You don’t mind handling things for a few minutes.”

  “Not at all. Go ahead. Things won’t pick up for another hour.”

  Erin nodded her agreement. She set out toward the town hall to take her gift to the police department. They would need a calorie boost to kick their brains into high gear to solve Joshua’s case. She would do everything she could to help them do that.

  She was happy and feeling good about herself and the bakery when she returned. There were a few more customers than she had expected, so it was a good thing she had arrived back when she did to help Vic out.

  There was a knot of women talking among themselves, not standing in line or checking out the products in the display case. Erin approached them, wondering what the excitement was about.

  She saw a familiar neat figure with gray hair. Mary Lou hadn’t been in the bakery since Christmas. Erin smiled, pleased. Maybe Mary Lou had heard that the police were now investigating Joshua’s disappearance as a possible abduction, and so had forgiven Erin for being mentioned in the note.

  Mary Lou had the remains of a fortune cookie in her hand. Erin looked down at it, puzzled. Mary Lou’s mouth was a slash of scarlet lipstick across her perfectly white complexion. Not smiling.

  No forgiveness, then.

  Erin glanced over at Vic, hoping for a clue before she stepped right into something. Vic’s mouth was open slightly, but she didn’t explain. It took a lot for Vic to be at a loss for words. She always knew the right things to say.

  Mary Lou looked Erin in the eye, her own eyes blazing.

  “Explain this.”

  Erin looked down at the fortune cookie. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to explain. Mary Lou obviously knew what a fortune cookie was, she didn’t need to explain that.

  Explain the fact that she was now supplying the Chinese restaurant with gluten-free fortune cookies? Erin didn’t know why Mary Lou would care about that. Whether the Chinese restaurant had gluten or gluten-free cookies didn’t make any difference to her, did it?

  Mary Lou held up the printed fortune from the cookie. It took Erin a minute to focus on the small lettering.

  You are never going to find him.

  Chapter 21

  Erin gasped in shock. It was a good thing that she had already delivered the cookies to the police department, because she would have dropped anything that she was holding on to the minute she read that fortune and it sa
nk into her brain.

  “What? Where did that come from?”

  “Where did it come from?” Mary Lou repeated, looking like she had tasted something horrible. “Why don’t you explain that to me?”

  “I… I don’t know.” Erin shook her head. “That’s not one of ours. That’s not one of the fortunes we had printed.”

  Mary Lou displaced the broken bits of fortune cookie in her hand. “This is one of your cookies. One of your gluten-free fortune cookies.”

  Erin looked down at it. The texture and color were slightly different from a regular fortune cookie. Not enough that a casual observer would have noticed, but Erin had worked hard on that recipe and had folded dozens of the fortune cookies to be delivered to the Chinese restaurant. If she looked at it really closely, she might be able to tell whether she had folded it or whether one of her employees had.

  “Yes,” she agreed faintly. “It’s one of mine. But that’s not one of the fortunes that we put in them.”

  “Then how do you think it got there?” Mary Lou demanded. “It didn’t just crawl in there on its own.”

  Erin looked for an explanation. Someone had clearly tampered with one of her fortune cookies. How would they do that? Was it possible to remove the fortune that Erin or her staff had inserted and to place another one in its place? It was a possibility, but it wouldn’t have been easy. And doing any number of them would have been impossible—one or two, perhaps, but not a dozen.

  “Is this… the only one? Where did you get it? Who gave it to you?”

  Mary Lou looked surprised at the questions. She pursed her lips to answer, then shook her head. “They’re your cookies. You put the fortunes in them. You put a fortune inside this cookie that would get back to me. Saying that I would never find Joshua. I thought you were my friend at one time, Erin. I can’t believe you would stoop so low. I can’t believe you would want to hurt me like this.”

  “I didn’t. I swear, Mary Lou. I wouldn’t do something like that. I don’t know what happened, but it wasn’t me. I’m just as shocked as you are.”

  “No, I don’t think you could be as shocked as I am. I don’t understand why you are doing this. Did you have something to do with Josh disappearing? Or are you just taking advantage of what happened to get back at me?”

  “No. Get back at you for what? No. I didn’t do this.”

  “Because I accused you of being involved in Joshua’s disappearance. You decided to do something that would hurt me. Even worse than him disappearing in the first place. You wanted to rip my heart out.”

  Tears spilled out of Erin’s eyes. “No. No, Mary Lou.” She tried to take Mary Lou’s hands to reassure her. Somehow, physical contact would communicate to Mary Lou that Erin would never do something like that. “Please, please. No. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.”

  Mary Lou jerked back, avoiding her touch. “I’m reporting this to the police. I don’t suppose there is anything I can charge you with, but they will have to investigate whether it is actually related to Joshua’s disappearance.”

  Erin nodded. She didn’t know what else to say. Who could have replaced the fortune in the fortune cookie? How would they have made sure that Mary Lou got it, and why would they do such a thing?

  Whoever had left the note for Mary Lou and had arranged for the fortune to be changed was trying to drive a wedge between Erin and Mary Lou. Looking at Mary Lou’s face, Erin doubted they would ever be able to be friends again. Even if they found Joshua. Even if they proved that Erin didn’t have anything to do with his abduction or disappearance, she didn’t see Mary Lou ever trusting her again.

  Everything after that moment was a blur. Erin would never be able to forget how Mary Lou looked as she stood there and accused Erin of changing the fortune and trying to rip her heart out. Until the day she died, it would remain clear in her memory.

  Mary Lou thought it was telling that Erin had just been over to the police department. She sneered and insinuated that Erin was trying to ingratiate herself with the police or to influence the direction of their investigation.

  It was unfair when Erin had been trying all along to get the police to investigate it as an abduction instead of a runaway. She had been Mary Lou’s greatest advocate.

  Within the hour, Sheriff Wilmot and Stayner arrived at the bakery looking grim.

  “We’re going to have to shut down Auntie Clem’s to investigate, Miss Price,” Stayner informed her.

  “But… I didn’t have anything to do with this. Not with changing the fortunes in the fortune cookies or with Joshua’s disappearance. You know that. I’ve been trying to get the police to investigate, not the other way around.”

  “On the surface, it would appear that someone at Auntie Clem’s Bakery might have been complicit in the kidnapping of a minor. Maybe only after the fact, but you know we have to check it out.”

  “I’ll show you my records.”

  “That’s appreciated,” the sheriff said. “But we’re going to need more than that. We’re going to need to complete our own investigation, unimpaired. I suggest that you close for the rest of the afternoon and give us the run of the place. You should be able to reopen again in the morning. If you’re going to insist on a warrant, then it’s going to be closed for longer while we get the official paperwork.”

  One afternoon wasn’t that bad. And not even all of one afternoon. Erin wanted to fight it to assert her rights as a citizen and business owner, hoping that they wouldn’t be able to get a warrant on such thin evidence. But she would be better off cooperating.

  Maybe Mary Lou would see that she was doing everything she could to help. The police would know that she hadn’t been involved in the substitution of the fortune in Mary Lou’s cookie or in Joshua’s kidnapping.

  And maybe they would find something that would help in the investigation. Something that would point back to the actual criminal in the case.

  Stayner and the sheriff waited for her decision. Erin rubbed her temples.

  “Okay. Of course. I’ll close the bakery. It’s just… yes. Vic, we’ll start cleaning up.” Erin looked at the small group of women gathered in front of the counter. “I’m sorry, ladies, you’re going to have to go. If you come back tomorrow…”

  She suspected that they weren’t going to buy anything anyway. They had been attracted by the drama. Perhaps they had come from the Chinese restaurant when Mary Lou had opened her cookie to see what was going to happen.

  Erin herded the women out the door and flipped the sign over to ‘closed.’ She walked around the counter to join Vic and get started on the closing procedures.

  “We would appreciate it if you would just leave everything as it is,” Sheriff Wilmot advised. “It would be better if you didn’t touch anything.”

  Erin stood there at a loss. She stared at the sheriff. “But I need to… we need to cash out, and clean up, and get tomorrow’s batters prepared so we’re ready to start baking in the morning. Some of these batters need to soak for a few hours for the best texture.”

  “We’ll get done as quickly as we can, and maybe you’ll be able to come back tonight and finish up. But right now… we want everything left as is.”

  Erin looked at Vic. Vic nodded encouragingly. “We’d better go, hon.”

  Erin moved like a zombie, taking off her apron and hanging it up, grabbing her purse, and thinking through what the police were going to do.

  “I can show you the order for the fortune cookies… everyone helped make them…”

  When had the rogue fortune been inserted in the cookie? At the Chinese restaurant? When the cookies were originally prepared? Erin had merely glanced at the pile of white paper strips she had received back from the printer. Had someone swapped them at the bakery?

  “And there are more fortunes here, we didn’t use all of them. You can compare…”

  “We can find everything. If you’ll just make sure the computer is unlocked. And if I could have a look at your purses before you go, ladies?”
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  Vic turned to face Sheriff Wilmot, her face white. “Certainly not! I have rights.”

  “Of course you do,” Wilmot agreed. “That’s why I’m asking for your permission.”

  Vic and Erin looked at each other. Erin was ready to hand her purse over to Sheriff Wilmot to check. That was the right thing to do, wasn’t it? Vic had encouraged Erin to let them search Auntie Clem’s Bakery, but now she was going to balk at having her own property searched?

  Finally, Vic gave a little nod. Erin handed her purse over to Wilmot as well. Her face was burning with embarrassment. It was a disorganized mess, as it always was, despite any attempts to keep it tidy and well-organized. And of course, it was well-stocked with feminine items that she didn’t want the men pawing through. There were personal notes, makeup, used tissues…

  Wilmot handed Erin’s purse to Stayner, and held his hand out toward Vic. “Miss Webster?”

  Vic reluctantly handed her purse over. “There’s a handgun in there,” she warned. “I have a permit.”

  Wilmot nodded.

  Erin and Vic stood there watching as Stayner and Wilmot methodically searched their purses. Erin felt almost physical pain as she watched Stayner pull each item out and examine it closely. She had thought that he would just take a quick look, seeing if she had anything related to the fortune cookies inside, making sure that she wasn’t walking off with any evidence. But he was very thorough. She hated the violation. She folded her arms across her chest and concentrated on breathing. In and out. Slowly and evenly. Beside her, Vic turned away, unable to watch.

  Erin was the opposite. She couldn’t tear her eyes away. Like watching an assault and being frozen in place, unable to say or do anything.

  It couldn’t have been more than a couple of minutes, but it seemed like it went on forever. Stayner took one more look into each of her purse pockets to make sure he hadn’t missed anything and handed it to her.