"Thanks for coming," Shepler said as he nodded at Sophie. She sat on a stool at the bar that separated the kitchen from the living room. "Be careful. There's broken glass all over the floor."
Amy looked down. The stem of a shattered wine glass sat on the terra cotta tile near her feet. Broken red ceramic dishes and shards of clear glass glittered in the spaces between the boxes of pasta, dented cans of tomatoes, and bags of dried mushrooms that littered the floor. All of the kitchen cupboard doors were open, revealing bare shelves. Glass crunched under the soles of her tennis shoes as Amy picked her way through the mess to get to Sophie. "Are you hurt?"
Sophie stared at the black granite countertop as she shook her head. "Matt and I went out for a late dinner after I closed the café. My back door was locked when I came home, so I had no idea what had happened until I turned on the kitchen light. What am I going to do? He knows where I live."
"You need to find someone to stay with until I put this person behind bars," Shepler said as he snapped a picture of one of the wooden dining chairs that had been smashed into a pile of splinters. "It isn't safe for you to be alone."
Amy nodded in agreement. "Like I told you yesterday, there is an excellent security system at my house. You'll be safe with me." She gently placed her hand on Sophie's shoulder. "Why don't you pack some clothes? We can leave as soon as Shepler says you can."
Sophie jumped when the doorbell bonged again. Shepler looped the camera strap over his neck and said, "That would be the forensic team. I told them to come in their own cars." He picked his way across the kitchen to the back door. "Sophie, I know you're afraid of what will happen if whoever did this knows the police are involved, but I need some help collecting evidence. Forensics isn't my specialty. If the person who did this is still watching, I'm hoping he'll think you called friends over to help clean the mess. I have enough information, so you can go as soon as you're ready. I'll make sure to lock everything up when we leave."
A man and woman wearing jeans and T-shirts entered the kitchen. The woman shook her head as she scanned the destruction. Sophie planted her hands on the counter and pushed herself off the stool to reveal that the black fabric cushion on it had been slashed. White Poly-Fil stuffing oozed from the wound. She stood there, propped up against the bar, for a few seconds. As if standing was too much effort. Amy stood close by, ready to grab her arm if she got wobbly. Pictures had been ripped off the wall and smashed onto the carpet in the middle of the room. The white fabric couch looked as if it had been attacked with a machete. Finally Sophie straightened and began to creep toward the hallway, trekking along the debris-free zone close to the wall.
"Would you like some help packing?" Amy asked as she followed Sophie.
"No thank you. I can do it."
Amy expected to find a pile of clothes in the middle of the bedroom, to match the devastation in the rest of the duplex. Sophie flipped on the light. The room hadn't been touched. Amy stood in the doorway to give her shell-shocked friend some space as she pulled shirts from the closet and pants from the dresser. The bright light from the ceiling fixture in the middle of the room illuminated part of the darkened bathroom across the hall. That room didn't seem to have been touched either. Bottles of hair spray, hand cream, and perfume were neatly lined up on the vanity. Why had the person stopped after trashing only two rooms? Did Sophie surprise him in the act again?
Before Amy could ponder that question, Sophie emerged from the bedroom with a duffel bag slung over her shoulder. "I just need to grab my makeup bag and toothbrush. Please get me out of here."
"I can do that." Amy stepped to the side. Sophie crossed the hallway and gathered her things in the bathroom. When she came out, Amy asked, "Do you want to stay with me or do you want to be with Matt?"
"You." Tears rolled down Sophie's cheeks as she leaned against the wall for support. "Matt has enough problems dealing with Luke's death and the effects the murder has had on the business. I haven't even told him the extortionist has contacted me."
While Amy understood Sophie's reason for not letting her boyfriend in on the problems, that didn't mean she thought it was a good idea. That was a huge secret to keep from a lover who might not appreciate being kept in the dark. Let alone the added stress on Sophie to keep the trouble hidden. "I know he's upset about Luke, but don't you think he'll be more upset once he finds out what has been happening to you?"
"But he'll want to protect me…have me move in with him. I'm just not ready for that step in our relationship."
Amy lifted the bag off Sophie's shoulder. At least she could relieve some physical burden. "You can stay with me as long as you like, but I have to say there is a difference between moving in with Matt for your protection and moving in with him as a next step in your relationship."
Sophie stared at something over Amy's shoulder. She didn't say anything. It was time to get her out of the wrecked house and into a bed.
"Let's go," Amy said as she turned toward the living room. A laptop sat on the coffee table. Robbery obviously wasn't the motive for the break-in. That made the situation even more disturbing. "Do you want to take your computer?"
"That would be a good idea." Sophie wove through the broken pictures frames and ripped open pillows spewing clouds of fiberfill on the carpet. As she picked up the laptop, her finger brushed the touchpad. The computer blinked to life. A drawing of a skull and crossbones filled the screen.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The chunks of frozen banana rattled in the glass blender jar as the sharp blades worked to turn the frozen fruit, coconut, coffee, and chocolate into a smoothie. Tossing things into a blender was all of the effort she could muster. Collecting Sophie from the nightmare at the duplex kept Amy up past her usual bedtime. Then she couldn't sleep from worrying about the increasingly terrifying tactics employed by the extortionist. The skull and crossbones image had only remained on the laptop screen for a few minutes before it vanished, leaving behind the computer's usual desktop wallpaper, a pink frosted cupcake sporting a smiley face. Luckily, it was visible long enough for Shepler and his cohorts to snap pictures of the grim art. If she barely got any sleep, Sophie was lucky to have slept at all considering all of the things that were making Amy anxious were happening to her.
Alex was upstairs showering. She wished she could join him, but neither one of them had time to spare. He had an extra-long day of work ahead of him. Normally he would stay late at his office when he had a heavier than normal workload, but they were going to have dinner with Carla and Shepler. He had already skipped out on the dinner portion of the double date when Carla tried on dresses, so he vowed to make sure he made it home in time. No matter how tired she was, Amy didn't want to miss a chance to get more wedding planning done.
Just in case Sophie was sleeping, Amy had moved the blender into the pantry, shut the door, and wrapped the jar in a heavy towel to try to muffle the jet engine-like noise from the powerful motor. Amy had worked at the café long enough that she could get the morning prep started so Sophie could take the day off and sleep in the safety of the guest room all day if she wanted. The kitchen staff was great. They didn't ask why the work Amy and Sophie usually took care of often wasn't done lately. The assistant bakers just picked up their pace and got caught up, perhaps assuming that distress over Luke's murder was the only reason Sophie wasn't her normal, super-efficient self. Not telling the staff about the threats was also something Amy didn't think was wise, but it was Sophie's business, not hers.
Amy punched the button to shut off the blender and lowered the towel. It looked like a creamy milkshake full of energy-giving coffee and chocolate. So it wasn't quite a kale and pomegranate superfood smoothie, but in the early morning trying to drink something that looked like pond scum didn't agree with her gag reflex anyway.
She grabbed the handle of the blender jar. A quick series of taps on the door sent her heart into spastic mode. She was not expecting a knock on the pantry door. At least she hadn't taken the glass container off th
e base or she would've been wearing the ice-cold breakfast treat accented with broken glass.
For about three seconds, she thought the mess-making extortionist had followed Sophie and used his magical detection-evading skills to break into her house. Those thoughts were rapidly followed by two more rational ones. One, Pogo was her backup alarm system. He'd go crazy if he heard someone even rattle a door handle. Two, a person ransacking a home wouldn't knock to ask permission. Hello? Is it okay if I destroy your things now?
Amy cracked open the door. Sophie stood a few feet away wrapped in the thick, white robe that Amy always left in the guest bathroom when someone spent the night. "I can't sleep so I might as well go to the café with you," Sophie said as she stretched both arms over her head.
"No. I told you last night that I'll get everything started myself. You have to be exhausted." Amy grabbed the blender jar and emerged from the pantry. "Alex and I will set the alarm when we leave, so you can stay in the guest room and nap all day if you want. You're safe here, so get caught up on the sleep I'm sure you've been losing for much longer than last night."
Sophie shook her head as Amy divided the chocolate milk-colored smoothie between two glasses. "We aren't supposed to open the café alone, remember? We'll both go in, get everybody started working, and then we can come back to take naps. I bet you could use one too."
How could Sophie think so clearly that early in the morning on so little sleep? Amy's thoughts were crawling around in the bottom of her brain, waiting for the coffee to kick in. "I forgot Shepler said that." One neuron fired and came up with a decent idea. "Alex is getting ready for work right now since he has to go in early. His building is just a few blocks away from the café. I bet he can stick around with me until some of the others arrive."
Sophie grabbed the glass that Amy offered her. She stared at the thick drink and said, "If Alex is going into work this early, I don't think he will want to hang around the kitchen for half an hour or more playing guard. Besides, he can't start making doughnut batter or oatmeal bread. It'll just be better all-around if I go in with you."
Sometimes it was easier to relent than waste time arguing. Like when Amy got a chocolate craving, she bought a candy bar instead of expending energy and willpower resisting. "Okay. Once everything is running smoothly, we leave and come back here. Deal?"
"Deal."
Half an hour later they had loaded themselves, along with insulated travel mugs full of coffee, into the Mini, and they were on their way. Amy had never had a commuting buddy, but at barely past 4:30 in the morning, she wasn't much of a conversationalist. She yawned as she braked for a stop sign on the deserted street. At least she didn't have to worry about navigating morning rush hour traffic when she reported to work before dawn. Normally Sophie would already be at the café, but considering everything that happened, they weren't doing too badly.
"I'm not going to let this cold-hearted criminal win," Sophie said as she cradled the red metal mug in her hands. "Luke is dead. The least I can do is stand up to whoever is doing this. Maybe, as Detective Shepler said, if he gets irritated enough from me not paying, he'll make a mistake so the police can figure out his identity."
During the long night, her abused friend had unearthed the strength to fight back. "You've been through a lot already. I'm going to keep doing everything I can to help Shepler and, of course, you can stay with me as long as you need to."
Amy maneuvered her car into one of the employee parking spaces behind Riverbend Café. She concentrated on keeping the small car between the painted lines, so nobody would lose a spot because of her sloppy, sleep-deprived parking skills. She switched off the engine and took a deep breath. Until the sadistic torturer was residing in jail, neither she nor Sophie would be able to unlock the kitchen door without a tidal wave of apprehension threatening to sweep them away.
As she stared at the tan metal door, trying to mentally turn her fear into an origami swan so it could fly away, she heard a rustling noise. The dash lights were still on, so she could see Sophie rummaging around in her purse. After a few more seconds of searching, she offered Amy a canister of pepper spray. Then she pulled out a second, small cylinder.
"Just in case," Sophie said as she swung open the car door while keeping the spray in her grasp.
Watching Sophie crumble like a shortbread cookie under the boot of the extortionist the previous night broke Amy's heart. She wanted to smack the bully alongside the head with one of the heavy-gauge metal baking pans she made brownies in. It wouldn't do much more than give the person a headache, but it sure would make her feel better.
Amy scrambled out of the car and rushed to catch up with Sophie who was striding toward the door like a woman on a mission. As Sophie twisted the key in the lock, Amy took up a position beside her with the pepper spray at the ready. The hinges creaked as the heavy door swung open. Amy had never realized the door creaked before then, but the sound effect made the situation even more eerie. Sophie reached into the dark room and flipped the light switch.
The kitchen was clean and orderly. No nooses. Nothing appeared to be out of place. Amy's eyes throbbed from the blast of light. Her lungs felt like overfilled balloons. She let out the breath she'd been holding. She followed Sophie inside and locked the door behind them. They grabbed knives and went through all of the rooms, flicking on the lights and rushing in like ninja chefs. It was becoming a routine that neither one of them should have to be familiar with.
When they returned to the kitchen, Sophie glanced at the clock. "We are so far behind."
Amy grabbed her apron from the hook on the wall near the door to Sophie's office. As she tied the strings around her waist she asked, "Why don't we simplify the menu? You change it all the time anyway, so change it to have fewer items. Instead of six bread choices for sandwiches cut it down to three—white, whole wheat, and one of my beer batter ones. The doughnuts and brownies are most popular in the coffee shop, so don't worry about making danishes and croissants today since they're time consuming. Most of our regulars know that you're dating Matt. Everybody is upset about Luke's murder. People won't mind if there are only two flavors of brownies to choose from, instead of five, for a while."
Sophie disappeared into the office for a few seconds. She emerged with a yellow legal pad and ballpoint pen. "The control freak in me doesn't want to cut the menu, but I think you're right. I need to lighten the load right now whether I like it or not. I'll start on the whole wheat bread if you can get going on the beer bread. We'll figure out the menu as we work."
The next hour was a blur for Amy. She must've set a world speed record for beer bread baking. By the time the first customers began trickling in on quests for triple shot lattes and fluffy, warm doughnuts, the abbreviated menu was complete. The staff had agreed the menu changes were reasonable. It seemed that everybody instinctively knew what to do to get the kitchen back on the rails.
"I'll type up the menus, if you'd like," Amy said to Sophie as they crossed paths near the bank of ovens. On chilly winter mornings, the heat radiating from the massive appliances was comforting. On a frenzied, warmer-than-average June morning, the toasty atmosphere wasn't so welcome.
"Thanks. That would be great." Sophie pointed at the counter near the stand mixer that was mixing a batch of whole wheat bread dough. "The legal pad is on the counter. The menu template is on the desktop of my laptop. It's in my office. Just open the file and make the changes."
Amy located the notepad and squeezed into the claustrophobic office. The space was smaller than the walk-in refrigerator at the café, but it wasn't as if Sophie ever spent much time in it. Amy turned on the computer and was relieved to be greeted by the smiling cupcake. She was almost done making the changes to the menu that Sophie altered every week, when a new window popped up in front of the word processor screen.
Red letters on a black background said: I'm getting impatient. I want my money. The longer you wait, the more you'll have to pay if you want me to leave you alone. If you don't
pay, you'll end up like your neighbor. There's a link to a website on your desktop. Go there and purchase the e-book. You might want to hurry this time. The price will go up again soon.
So that was one of the mysterious disappearing threats. Amy pulled her cell phone out of her apron pocket and took several pictures of the computer screen. Maybe the computer expert Shepler sent had done something to the computer so the message could be traced. If that wasn't possible, at least her pictures showed exactly what the threat said. She called Sophie into the office. A stony look of determination hardened on the pastry chef's face. They agreed to leave the message on the screen and not look at the supposed store until Shepler was there.
Shepler arrived at the café in less than ten minutes since he was driving to the station when Amy called. A computer expert named Alan was a few minutes behind him. Because the messages from the hacker had a tendency to vanish, there was no time for disguises and subterfuge. Both men, who were thankfully dressed like benign businessmen, were ushered into the kitchen through the back door.
Sophie and Amy crammed into the office with the two men. Alan sat in the desk chair while the rest of them formed a semicircle around him. It was the only possible configuration for that many people in the minuscule room. "I caught a couple odd looks when we all started coming in here," Amy whispered to Sophie. Several of the women working on icing brownies and assembling pasta casseroles had stopped working to stare at their clown car routine. How was Sophie going to explain getting cozy behind closed doors with strangers?
Amy watched the expert's fingers fly over the keyboard for several minutes. He shook his head. "I can't trace it. Whoever sent this is good. It's like trying to follow a bullet through a maze."
Doughnuts & Deadly Schemes (Culinary Competition Mysteries Book 3) Page 10
