"No." Shepler answered. "If you don't mind, I'd like to hand it over to my computer expert to see what he can find. Amy may be right. There's a possibility the hacker didn't cover his tracks very well, and the break-in was to steal your laptop. Your cars are right outside, so he had to know you two were in here."
That ice cube of information was a cold slap of reality for Amy. "What would he have done if we hadn't run into the dining room when we heard him picking the lock?"
Shepler didn't answer. He just looked out the window. Amy knew what he was looking at since she'd just been staring at the same thing. Finley & Crowe. The scene of a murder.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Amy opened the microwave and inhaled the sweet, fruity scent of breakfast goodness. The square of baked oatmeal was studded with dried apricots, two kinds of raisins, and dried cranberries. She didn't have a problem with the occasional bowl of traditional oatmeal, cooked on the stove with milk and raisins, for breakfast. But it wasn't a portable meal option. She couldn't drive, hold a hot bowl, and spoon drippy nourishment into her mouth at the same time. She wasn't anywhere near that coordinated. So baked oatmeal, which had the consistency of a dense cake and could be eaten like a breakfast sandwich wrapped in a napkin, was her current choice for a quick and easy start to the day.
Except she didn't need to eat the fruit-studded square on the go. It was sitting on a plate, to be eaten with a fork. She was waiting for Sophie to arrive at her house. At 4:30 a.m., after slamming the alarm clock into silence, Amy hadn't yet stumbled out of bed when a text from Sophie beeped onto her phone.
I need to talk to you. Can I come over to your house before we go to work?
Of course Amy's answer was yes. She'd do anything to help out her friend. But she also had another friend to worry about. The wedding was about thirty-six hours away. A full crew of bakers and cooks was scheduled to arrive at Riverbend Café in less than an hour to start on the extra brownies, cookies, dips, and spreads to cater Carla and Shepler's wedding. The only reason Amy could think of why Sophie wanted to stop by to chat was because she didn't want anybody else to hear what she had to say.
After the break-in the previous day, the café had remained closed as the police collected evidence. When they were finished, Sophie, Amy, and a crew of workers were allowed in to clean up the mess. Miraculously, they found the tower of vintage cake stands was unharmed. The delicate crystal had survived the rampaging werewolf and squad of police officers bumping around in the dark, windowless kitchen.
Headlight beams swept across the barely lit kitchen making Amy wince as she ate the last bite of oatmeal bar. Early mornings and bright lights were not a combination she enjoyed, so she always navigated through her breakfast routine with only a few under-the-cabinet lights setting the gentle, ease-into-the-day mood. She let Sophie in through the side door and handed her a mug of coffee without asking if she wanted it. At that time of day, who would refuse coffee?
Her boss cradled the mug in her hands as Amy steered her to the breakfast nook. Sophie's rich brown hair was twisted into a messy knot at the base of her neck. Amy couldn't recall ever seeing her at the café not sporting her signature sleek ponytail. No matter what time they arrived in the morning, she always wore makeup too. Sophie's eyes were red and swollen, without a trace of eyeliner or mascara.
"What's wrong?" Amy asked as she scooted onto the bench across the table from Sophie.
"I think Matt may have had something to do with Luke's murder."
Yowza. Nothing like hitting the early morning confessional out of the ballpark with one swing. "Why? What happened? Did he threaten you?"
"No…nothing like that." Sophie took a sip of the coffee. "We talked all afternoon about what happened at the café and how it seems to be connected with Luke's murder. When we went to bed, he fell immediately asleep but started having a bad dream, thrashing around and mumbling. When I woke him up, he just looked at me and said, 'I'm sorry, Sophie. It wasn't supposed to turn out like this. You were supposed to be safe.' Then he fell right back asleep. I realized he could've been talking about whatever happened in his dream, so I woke him again and asked what he'd been dreaming about. He said Luke's murder."
That certainly sounded rather incriminating. As if he had been hiding things from Sophie, and his subconscious cracked from the pressure, letting loose the secret in Matt's nightmare confession. "That's really scary. Did you ask him what he meant this morning?"
Sophie shook her head. "I was too afraid. So I left him a note saying I had to go into work early. I know he was having a dream, and those can get pretty crazy, especially when you are under stress. It's just that he was talking about my safety. He said my name, so he had to recognize that he was speaking to me at that moment."
"First off, I think it's best if you come back to stay with me until Shepler gets this all sorted out. For your safety and the fact that you'd never be able to sleep a wink lying in bed next to Matt now. Tell Shepler what Matt said, and see what he thinks. It wouldn't surprise me if he hasn't been looking into Matt all along but hasn't said anything. A business partner would seem to be a likely suspect in a case like this."
Sophie's espresso brown eyes widened. "I never thought of Matt being a suspect, but you're probably right. You know more about murder investigations than I do. Although I can't imagine why he would kill Luke."
"If he had a reason, Shepler will uncover it." Amy glanced at the time on her phone. She and Sophie needed to get to the café to rally the kitchen troops. Would Shepler be able to follow up on this new clue in one day? He was starting a week's vacation for his wedding and honeymoon at midnight. "You look like you haven't gotten any sleep. Do you want to take a nap here for a while? I'm sure I can get everybody going on what needs to be done for tomorrow."
Sophie inhaled. Her breath was ragged and uneven, as if she was trying to keep from crying. "No. I'll follow you in. I can fix my hair and makeup in the restroom there. You're right—I didn't get any sleep. But until I talk to Detective Shepler about Matt, I need to work in the kitchen to keep from falling apart. If I don't have anything else to focus on, all I'll do is obsess over the fact that I may be living with a murderer."
Ten minutes later, Amy glanced in her rearview mirror. The headlights from Sophie's car had filled the interior of the Mini with golden light since she'd backed out of her driveway. Sometimes the light was a bit too bright, as if Sophie wasn't paying attention and had to slam on the brakes to avoid rear-ending Amy's pint-sized car at several stop signs. When Amy's phone started ringing, she snatched it off the passenger seat, expecting it to be Sophie apologizing for the too-close-for-comfort stops.
"Hello."
"It's Shepler. Do you know where Sophie is?"
Amy's heart thundered in her chest. "She and I are almost to Riverbend. We're following each other on the road because she stopped by my house this morning. Have you been looking at Matt as a suspect? I'll have her call you later and tell you what happened, but he had a very incriminating dream last night."
The phone crackled with Shepler's extended sigh. "Yes, I've been checking him out, but that's not what I'm calling about. Sophie is going to need some support from you again when I tell her what happened."
A traffic jam of horrible thoughts exploded into an instant headache in Amy's brain as she guided her car into a parking space behind the café. Had the hacker set her duplex on fire? Did Alan, the computer expert, find something dreadful on her laptop? Several other empty cars, which she recognized as belonging to the bakery assistants, were parked behind the building. Had something happened to them? The list of possibilities her mind was inventing was out of control. "Okay. I just parked, and Sophie is pulling in next to me. Hang on, and I'll have her talk to you on speaker phone."
Sophie was wrestling her overstuffed tote bag out of the backseat footwell when Amy made it to her side. She held out the phone. "It's Shepler. He needs to speak with us. Go ahead, we're listening."
Amy swallowed as she loo
ked at Sophie. The security light on the back of the building made the shadows under her eyes appear black. Shepler cleared his throat. "Sophie, I hate to tell you this. Matt has been attacked. He was jogging this morning and a bomb was detonated in a trash can as he was running past."
Sophie dropped her tote bag on the pavement by her feet. "Is he dead?"
"He's badly hurt, but still alive. I'm heading to the hospital right now. I'll see you there."
* * *
Amy stopped moving for the first time all morning to look at the white board where the wedding menu was listed. Only a few items weren't crossed off. The bakers and chefs had been very busy bees. Sophie had found the time to print off all of the recipes on Wednesday afternoon, scaled to the correct serving size thanks to a handy recipe converter program. The recipe sheets were on a clipboard hanging off a hook beside the white board. Despite the setbacks from the werewolf vandal and the absence of their leader, the kitchen crew was working like a finely tuned machine.
Of course Sophie had left immediately for the hospital after the call from Shepler. If Matt had been involved with the murder, he wouldn't have almost killed himself just to divert attention. There was a possibility he could still be involved somehow, but Shepler wasn't going to be able to ask Matt about anything in the near future. Sophie had called to check in a couple hours after she tore out of the parking lot. Matt was in a medically induced coma to help him recover from several broken bones, multiple internal injuries, and a skull fracture. He was in critical condition and would be for a while.
Since Sophie never even made it into the kitchen, Amy had no choice but to tell the other workers about Matt. The attacks on their boss's business and boyfriend galvanized the employees of Riverbend Café. Sophie had purposely not told any of her employees about the threats and attacks. Her reasoning was that the extortionist was going after her, so ignorance would be a sort of safety shield. No one would become involved and be put in danger if they didn't know what was happening. But after Amy's announcement most of them confided in her that they had already figured out the connection between the murder across the street and the upset routines at the café long before the unplanned vacation day courtesy of the trashed kitchen. Everybody was working with a quiet resolve to keep the business running while Sophie couldn't do the job herself.
Amy needed to recruit more kitchen workers to help the next morning. Sophie had planned to help make the four-dozen doughnuts for the wedding. Now her only plans were a bedside vigil at the hospital.
All Amy had to do was ask one person for help. JoJo, the assistant pastry chef, had already stepped up to manage the café while Sophie was taking time off. She was going to be running the catering operation at Bridget's house. The auburn-haired dynamo was an angel for taking on so much extra work with a cheerful smile instead of complaints.
Once the lunch rush died down, Amy set out to run an errand. Aubergine had called. The wedding present was ready. The walk to the comic book store was like a hug from Mother Nature—warm and comforting. She didn't realize her shoulder muscles were knotted like a two-year-old's shoelaces until the sunshine turned her T-shirt into a solar heating pad. The happy-making properties of the walk were tempered by the fact that Sophie was sitting in a stark, anxiety-filled hospital room.
Amy nudged aside the melancholy from thinking of Sophie. She was almost to The Inkwell. Inside the quirky store, there could be more clues to the violent extortionist's identity, courtesy of the burly computer geek. Chuck greeted her with a huge smile when she walked through the door. He pointed his thumb over his shoulder. "Aubergine is in the classroom. She has your order in there."
The creaky floor sounded like alien-made music as she strode toward the back of the store. "Thank you," she said as she placed a paper bag containing a huge monster cookie on the counter beside him as she walked past. The kitchen sink-style cookies had everything from M&Ms to crushed pretzels in them…everything but the kitchen sink.
"Thank you!" he called as she entered the desk-filled classroom.
Aubergine looked up. She was sitting at one of the desks. A bottle of ink that looked like orange Kool-Aid sat next to the sheet of paper she had been writing on. "Hello! I have your drawing here," she said as she grabbed a picture frame from the desk beside her. "What do you think?"
The ring of pastel-colored flowers surrounding the words was incredibly detailed. "I love it! My friends are going to love it, too, when I give it to them tomorrow." Amy pulled a bag of gooey pecan turtle brownies out of her purse and set them on Aubergine's stool. "Thank you again for making this so quickly."
Aubergine unrolled the top of the paper bag and peeked inside. "You didn't have to bring more goodies, but I guess you know my secret. Bribe me with brownies, and I'll do just about anything."
"Good to know, but I promise I won't take advantage of your weakness. The next time I place an order, I'll give you plenty of time to get it done."
"I'm glad I could help. I hope your friends like my drawing." Aubergine pointed to a rack in the corner. Large sheets of printed paper were draped over wooden dowels. "Would you like me to wrap it? One less thing for you to do. I hand print my own gift wrap. How about one with silver, heart-shaped polka dots?"
"That would be wonderful. Thank you. If you don't mind, I'll finish paying the bill with Chuck while you do that. I need to get back to the café soon."
Chuck had her order form sitting on the counter, but he was turned sideways looking at one of the computer screens. He swiveled around and said, "I heard through the grapevine that you guys had an encounter with the werewolf too. Is everybody okay?"
"Shook up a bit and annoyed at the mess, but okay." She blinked as his words sunk in. Business owners might not be contacting the police, but it appeared that they were talking to each other to try to defeat the destructive hacker. "You said 'too.' Did the guy break in here or some other business that you know of?"
He nodded. "Here. The day after you ordered the drawing. All day he was trying to get into my system. I figured since he's been trashing storage rooms at other businesses when he hasn't been getting his way, there was a good chance he'd go for us that night. I have a couch in our office, so I spent the night there on guard duty. The moron picked the lock at three o'clock in the morning."
Aubergine placed the extravagantly wrapped present on the counter. Instead of a bow, she had attached a white silk cabbage rose on top. "Chuck used to cage fight. I've never liked that hobby, but I have to say it came in handy."
"Yeah. It was my pleasure doling out some physical pain to the pain in the ass. I'm just sorry he got away from me. Little bugger was slipperier than an eel. I wanted to give the police department a present."
The computer dinged. Chuck turned to one of the screens and grunted. "I can't believe he's still trying to break into my system. What an idiot."
"It's happening right now? You're being hacked?" Amy leaned over the counter to get a better look at the screen. All she could see was a bunch of green letters and numbers on a black background.
Chuck snickered as his fingers pounded the keyboard. "He's attempting to get in. Let's see if he'll take my bait."
Amy held her breath as Chuck hit one more key with a decisive whack. Nobody said a word as he stared at the screen. "Gotcha sucka." Chuck turned and waggled his eyebrows at Amy. "Whoever this is, they are persistent and stupid."
"What did you do now?" Aubergine rolled her eyes at her gleeful husband.
"I would've thought he learned his lesson after I fixed his computer so he wouldn't be able to cover his tracks so easily. I see he's found that bug and removed it, so he knows what I'm capable of doing. Since he's tried repeatedly over the last two days to get into my system, how is he not smart enough to realize the hole he found a minute ago was my equivalent to a doomsday virus?"
"You created a computer virus?" Amy tried to make her eyes stop bugging out. Considering the strong wind had surely messed up her hair during the walk, she probably looked li
ke a freaked-out cocker spaniel. "Can't you go to jail for making those?"
"Don't worry, no computers other than his will be infected. The fuse was lit when he downloaded the fake bank account numbers. Somebody is going to be having a very bad day tomorrow."
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Amy put the cap back on the red marker. The signs weren't art. The letters were uneven and kind of jagged thanks to the four cups of coffee she'd gulped down combined with multiple unexpected sneezes brought on by the stinky permanent ink fumes. But the signs got the message across to customers: Closing at 1 p.m. for a private event.
She rummaged through the junk drawer in the tiny kitchen. Even a commercial kitchen had a drawer that was the catchall area for pens, paper clips, and rubber bands. Amy moved aside a stack of blank envelopes and was rewarded with a roll of tape. She had called Sophie an hour earlier to check on Matt's condition and see how she was holding up. Matt was still in critical condition. Sophie was surviving on gallons of coffee and a few yogurt parfaits from the hospital cafeteria. Not optimal nutrition, but she was determined to stay by his side until he was allowed to wake up from the hopefully recuperative coma. She also made the decision to close the café early so Amy and JoJo could concentrate on organizing the food for the wedding without worrying about what was happening at the café. The consummate professional trying to keep her business on track even though her life had jumped the rails.
After the signs were handed off to a waitress to attach to the doors, Amy returned to her very important task—making the doughnuts. Two dozen were done. JoJo was busy dipping the dried cherry doughnuts in almond glaze and sprinkling them with sparkling, pink sugar crystals. The rum raisin ones were already dipped in vanilla glaze then dusted with edible gold powder. Amy used a squirt bottle to fill four circular depressions with tart lemon doughnut batter. An uplifting citrus scent immediately filled the small kitchen when the batter hit the hot metal. Then she closed the lid, flipped the iron over, and moved to the next doughnut maker to repeat the process. The technique was similar to making waffles. Fill, close, flip. Fill, close, flip. Culinary meditation at its finest with added energizing citrus aromatherapy benefits. Just what she needed at the start of a busy day.
Doughnuts & Deadly Schemes (Culinary Competition Mysteries Book 3) Page 17
