Burned to a Crisp (Cookies & Chance Mysteries Book 3)

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Burned to a Crisp (Cookies & Chance Mysteries Book 3) Page 4

by Catherine Bruns


  "Gianna," I whispered hopefully. "Is she there?"

  His expression was sorrowful. "No, baby. They haven't seen her since the party."

  I looked at the two-story, white-painted building with the large front porch that held my wicker table and chairs for customers to sit outside during the warm weather. Several people had been doing that earlier today. I already knew that the damage was going to be significant. Maybe the place would even have to be torn down. My eyes filled, and the tears gushed down my cheeks.

  I grabbed the arm of the other policeman. "My sister Gianna lives upstairs."

  The man shook his head at me. "The firefighters were able to get upstairs immediately after they first arrived on the scene. No one was inside the apartment, ma'am."

  I collapsed against Mike in sheer relief. "Thank God." But something continued to gnaw away at my brain. If Gianna wasn't in the building, then where was she? Had she gone to Bernardo's house to spend the night? No, that wasn't her speed. Gianna hadn't even liked the man. She hated this entire case and the embarrassment it had caused her.

  "Sal!" I heard Josie scream.

  I turned to see my friend running toward me. Her gorgeous, long, red hair was a tangled mess, and she wore cropped, pink, cotton pajamas with flip-flops. Mike released me so that I could hug her.

  Her face was streaked with tears as she clung to me. "What the hell happened?"

  "I don't know. A passerby reported it."

  Josie's face went pale. "Gianna—"

  I shook my head. "She wasn't in the building."

  "Thank God." Josie looked at the bakery in angst, and her lower lip trembled. She continued to cling to me. "What are we going to do?"

  "It's insured." Mike leaned over and kissed the top of my head.

  I sniffled as smoke continued to spew from the building. "The important thing is that no one got hurt."

  At that moment two firemen came out of the building carrying something between them. It only took a split second for me to figure out that it was a body—and a lifeless one at that. Mike placed his arms around me in a tight grip to prevent me from running toward it. The EMTs pushed a gurney toward the firefighters as we all continued to stare, frozen in place. Blood roared in my ears as Brian strode over to them. As they spoke, one of the firemen shook his head. I watched, not daring to breathe, as the victim was placed on the gurney and secured in the ambulance, which immediately rushed off, sirens blaring. Mike's firm grip still held me in place.

  A small, strangled cry escaped from my lips. No! No, it can't be her.

  Brian turned in my direction, and our eyes met. His expression was sober as he started toward me. "Sally—"

  I never heard what he said. I was vaguely aware of Mike catching me in his arms as I struggled for air and my legs collapsed out from underneath me.

  In one brief second the entire world—like my bakery—turned black.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  "Sweetheart, open your eyes, and look at me."

  My head resembled a jigsaw puzzle. The pieces were all there but not in any logical order. I opened my eyes in confusion to see Mike bending over me. His midnight blue eyes were anxious as they met mine. Why did he look so upset? Then I saw my building behind him, the clouds of smoke billowing in the night sky, and remembered what had happened. I shrieked and tried to push myself up from the gurney that I was lying on.

  Mike held me down firmly. "Stay here, Sal."

  "Please let me up," I sobbed. "I have to go to her. I need to—"

  "It's not her, baby," he said. "Gianna wasn't in the building."

  Overcome with relief and joy, I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck. Over his shoulder I noticed that while there was still plenty of smoke, I could no longer see flames shooting out from the building.

  Mike held me close, whispering reassurances in my ear. Then he pushed back my hair and kissed me. "You fainted before Jenkins could tell you that the body they found in the back room belonged to Bernardo Napoli."

  Josie was standing to my right. She reached down and gave my hand a tight squeeze and then wiped at her eyes with a tissue. She asked the question that was rapidly taking shape in my mind. "What was he doing in there all by himself?"

  "Where's my sister?" I sat up and looked around. My parents were across the road, huddled together and leaning against their car, talking to a police officer. Mom was smoking a cigarette. Grandma Rosa was standing with them, her sharp eyes focused on me.

  "I need to go to them." I jumped off the gurney and felt a bit shaky, but Mike's arm steadied me.

  "They're okay. A bit shocked, but your grandmother's been great at keeping them calm."

  "This doesn't make any sense. Where is my sister?" I repeated. Gianna would never leave my bakery with someone inside, especially a man she'd defended in court.

  Brian approached us. "Fire's out. The firefighters will be here for a while doing overhaul. We'll leave an officer overnight to prevent looters from coming in."

  Mike eyed a tall man dressed in black, holding a clipboard. He was talking to one of the firemen. "Who's that?"

  "The arson investigator." Brian studied me. "He'll want to speak to you in the morning."

  My mouth went dry. Never in my wildest dreams would I think this might have been done on purpose.

  Josie swore. "They think the fire was deliberately set?"

  Brian's mouth set in a hard, firm line. "It's a possibility. We'll know more in the morning. But for now, you might as well go home. There's nothing else you can do here." He gazed at me with sympathy. "You need some rest. Please let me know if you hear from your sister. We'd like to speak to her and find out why Bernardo was in the back room."

  "We'd like to know why too," Mike said grimly.

  My entire body was numb as I tried to make sense of this. "Why? Why would someone deliberately set my bakery on fire?"

  Brian shrugged. "Personal vendetta? I don't know, Sally. There are some shady characters out there. And you've had the bad luck of being involved with several as of late."

  He had a point. I removed Mike's arm from my shoulders and walked toward my once beautiful little bakery. I thought of the day, almost a year ago, when I had first laid eyes on the building. I remembered how the real estate agent told me it had been a former Chinese restaurant, which led to my idea of handing out free fortune cookies to patrons whenever they made a purchase.

  Evil fortune cookies. I thought of the message from earlier, and my stomach grew queasy.

  Things will heat up for you tonight.

  What the heck were the odds I'd receive a message like that and then have my building burn down hours later? Did someone really hate me enough to do this, and why? Even worse, had they been hoping that I was inside the bakery at the time of the fire? Or maybe Gianna?

  The air was still thick with smoke, but I walked closer anyway. I'd almost reached the porch when Brian caught me by the arm.

  "You can't go in there, Sally. Not while an investigation is pending. Plus, it isn't safe right now."

  Josie ran up to me and started to sob again. "What are we going to do, Sal?"

  Mike reached for my hand and tried to lead me away. "Come on, sweetheart. Jenkins is right—there's nothing we can do. Let's go home. You need to sleep."

  As I looked at the building again, my own fire raged from within. "No."

  Mike opened his mouth in surprise. "You're upset, Sal. Come on. We'll go home and talk this through."

  Yes, of course I was upset, but more than that, I was pissed. Royally pissed. Why me? What had I ever done to deserve this? I tried to lead a good life. I always gave people the benefit of the doubt, yet murder and destruction followed me at a merry rate these days. Josie and I had worked so hard to build a successful business, and neither of us deserved this. Heck, I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.

  Then again, perhaps it had been my worst enemy that had done this. I didn't know what to think anymore. My rage reached a boiling point, and I exploded.
/>   "I don't want to go home. How can I? My sister is missing. Someone might have torched my bakery. This is my livelihood. A man is dead because of all this. How the hell can I rest?"

  Mike's eyes widened. "Baby, you need to stay calm. It's not going to do any good to freak out."

  "Don't tell me what to do!" I shook his hands off and saw the look of amazement that crossed his face. I knew I was being unreasonable but couldn't help myself. I was so angry at the latest curveball life had thrown at me. Whenever I was in a good place in my life, it seemed that something terrible happened. How was this even fair? All I wanted was to have a family and run my little cookie shop. Was that too much to ask?

  Mike tried to reason with me once again, wrapping his arms around me. "I've got something back at the house that will help you sleep."

  A feeling of suffocation was settling over me as I pushed him away. "I don't need to sleep. What I need is to find my sister."

  "Sal." My father's gruff voice sounded behind me. "She's going to be fine. Just keep checking your phone. If she calls anyone, it will be you."

  Grandma Rosa stood there quietly, watching me, while my mother sniffled and reached out to hug me. "Sweetie, do you want to come back to the house with us? It would be nice to have you there."

  I didn't want to be around anyone, but these were my parents, and they were hurting too. "Sure." My voice sounded hollow to my own ears. "I'll be there soon."

  My parents started in the direction of their car with Grandma Rosa following. I was overwhelmed with sadness as I watched their hunched figures depart. They stopped at the driver's side door, and my father stared back at the bakery while Mom rummaged for something in her purse. I guessed she needed another cigarette.

  My mother didn't smoke often, usually only when she was stressed, and that was a rarity, since Maria Muccio didn't let many things in life bother her. When my father was sick a few months ago, she'd been outside the hospital lighting up so often I was afraid she'd burst into flames. I'd come to rely on her sunny outlook, so this upset me even further.

  "I'm going home too." Josie reached out to hug me. "Rob's working the overnight shift, so I asked my neighbor to come over and stay with the kids. She wasn't thrilled about me waking her up, so I need to get back. Brian's right—there's nothing more we can do tonight." She turned to him. "What time can we talk to the investigator tomorrow?"

  Brian cleared his throat. "I'll let you know. I'll call Sally in the morning." He glanced at me. "You might want to call your insurance company too. I'm sure they'll send a representative out tomorrow to assess the damages."

  I said nothing as I stared from him to Josie and then back to Mike.

  Josie walked across the street and then stopped to hug Grandma Rosa before getting into her van. My grandmother nodded and said something to her. My grandmother was the person everyone turned to in a time of crisis. Only I didn't want to turn to anyone now. The anger was fighting a war against me, and I was determined to let it win.

  Mike put an arm around me and once again tried to lead me away from the building. "Come on, baby. Let's go home."

  Furious, I turned to face him. "I can't go home. Don't you understand? I need to be with my family. They're hurting over my sister. My shop is destroyed." I stopped to catch my breath. "Why do rotten things always happen to me?"

  Mike stared at me like I was a complete stranger. "I know it looks bad, but we'll get through this together. You'll see."

  "Go home. I want to be alone."

  "Sal—"

  "Leave me alone!" I ran toward the bakery and fell to my knees, sobbing as I surveyed my building and the mass disarray still going on around me. The firefighters were packing up their truck and putting away hoses. Two of them stood just inside the front door while the arson investigator nodded and wrote something on his chart. The urge to scream and start throwing things was great. Complete hopelessness had overwhelmed me.

  In the past year, I had come in contact with several murder incidents. The first had been my great-aunt Luisa, Grandma Rosa's younger sister. Then a former nemesis from high school had dropped dead on the front porch of my bakery after eating our cookies. Colin, my ex, had returned to town in early January with plans to manipulate me and take away my bakery. He'd gotten into a fight with Mike, who had later been arrested after Colin was found shot to death. Now there was the fire and death of Gianna's client—in my bakery. Again.

  This building was cursed. No, wait a second. It wasn't the building. I was the one jinxed. A fortune cookie's happy victim. Why had I ever started making those stupid pieces of dough in the first place?

  Not knowing what else to do, I buried my face in my hands and continued to sob.

  Someone placed a hand on my shoulder, but I didn't look up. "Mike, I said to leave me."

  "Cara mia, do not do this to yourself."

  Grandma Rosa stood beside me. She placed a soothing hand on my head and smoothed back my hair. I rose to my feet, still crying. She reached out and placed her arms around me, as if willing me all her strength.

  I wiped at my eyes. "Go home with my parents. I need to be alone."

  "You must stop this, dear heart. Do not let the grief win. It solves nothing."

  "It's already won. I'm done. I give up."

  She shook me slightly. "No. You are upset and not thinking straight. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Be grateful that your sister is still alive. These are all material things. They do not mean anything."

  "But it's not fair," I whined like a six-year-old. "I put my heart and soul into this place. Now it's ruined, and a man is dead."

  I heard the rumble of a truck engine and saw Mike's pickup take off down the street. Grandma Rosa shook her head at me. "Why did you lash out at your young man? He loves you very much."

  "He doesn't understand how I feel."

  "You are doing it again," she said. "After all the suffering he has been through in his life, you have the nerve to say that he doesn't understand? Think about that for a minute, my dear."

  Crap. She was right. Mike had a horrible childhood in an abusive household. And here I was, pushing him away when he'd tried to comfort me. What they said was true. You always hurt the one you love.

  "He wanted to stay and wait for you, but I told him to leave," Grandma Rosa continued. "I said I would take care of you. He is very worried about you, my dear. All he wants is to help."

  "I didn't mean it," I choked out. "He knows I love him. Everything will be fine when I see him."

  Grandma Rosa raised her eyebrows at me. "Everything is not fine. You are about to be husband and wife. It is not wise to start your marriage out like this. You go to him."

  "No. I need to be with my family."

  She grunted. "Do not tell me no. I will take care of your mama and papa. Mike is your family too. Perhaps not in name yet, but that does not matter. You go. That is an order."

  I knew better than to argue with her. Reluctantly I rose to my feet and took one last look at the building. As we turned to make our way across the street, we saw my parents' Chevy take off. Grandma Rosa threw up her arms in pantomime.

  "You see? They forget all about me until it is time for dinner." She tapped the side of her white head. "Your parents are—what do they say?—nutsy cookies."

  Despite the despair I was feeling, I managed a smile. "Cuckoos."

  "Bah. Same thing."

  I placed an arm around her shoulders. "Well, I guess you and I are walking."

  Brian's voice startled me from behind. "I'd be glad to give you ladies a lift. Go make yourselves comfortable in my squad car. I want to speak with one of the firemen for a second."

  Grandma Rosa snickered as I opened the door to Brian's vehicle and settled her into the backseat. "He is very charming and handsome, the police officer. But I do not trust him around you, my Sally."

  "Grandma, you sound just like Mike now."

  She wagged a finger at me. "It is the truth. He looks at you the same way you look at my cheesecake whe
n I take it out of the oven."

  Ouch. That was bad.

  Grandma Rosa shook her head. "Mike is not going to be happy when he sees the young officer bringing you home. That is more trouble that you do not need."

  I knew she was probably right, but I was tired and had no energy left. This had been a long draining day that had started out wonderfully and then ended in tragedy for both Bernardo and my bakery.

  "Grandma, I would hope that Mike and I have learned to develop some type of trust between us." I could have bitten my tongue off as soon as I said the words. How trusting had I been of him minutes ago when I'd had a meltdown for everyone to witness?

  She chuckled. "You still have a lot to learn, granddaughter."

  I leaned my head against her. "I do everything wrong."

  She kissed me. "No. You are being tested. You are a survivor, cara mia. You will get through this and become an even stronger person because of it."

  "I don't feel very strong right now," I admitted.

  "We are all tested every day in many ways." A shadow crossed over her face as she stared out the window. "I have had my tests too. You, my dear, are a lot like me."

  I lifted my head and examined her face. Grandma Rosa never cried, but I could have sworn I saw her wise brown eyes mist over for a second. "What happened?"

  She looked at me and smiled. "Someday I will tell you. But not now. You go to your young man and work things out. Everything will look better after you get some sleep. Trust your grandmother."

  As I'd suspected, Brian decided to drop Grandma Rosa off first, even though Mike's house was closer. I think she was aware of this too, although she chose not to say anything as she thanked him for the ride.

  Brian went around to open the door for her, and I gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Tell Mom and Dad I'll stop by tomorrow."

  She nodded. "Get some rest, dear heart. Let the sun rise on a new day and happy thoughts. Life is what you make of it."

 

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