Ooey Gooey Bakery Mystery Box Set

by Katherine H Brown

  I won’t lie – Sam and I basically sprinted to the truck. I punched the lock and we sat for a moment trying to catch our breath.

  “Okay, I’m ready to get out of here,” Sam said buckling her seatbelt.

  “That makes two of us,” I agreed. I cranked the truck and put it in reverse, moving to back out of the parking spot.

  “Piper, look!” Sam tapped my arm as she said it, causing me to slam on the breaks.

  “What?” I asked darting glances all around, images of gangs or the redheaded woman or a drunken hobo all assaulting me at once. “What am I looking for?” I asked after seconds passed and nothing terrible had jumped out to get me.

  “I think that’s Landon,” Sam pointed to a man with his back to us at the doorway of a business two doors down from the Dollar Store.

  “I can’t tell,” I leaned forward in my seat. The door opened before him and the dim, yellow light that spilled out shone on the sandy-colored hair. I still wasn’t certain. “Why would Landon be out here?” I asked.

  “You’re right, I just thought it looked like him. You don’t forget a hottie like that,” Sam sighed and I rolled my eyes.

  The man at the door turned then, looking over his shoulder down the street to both sides. Before he ducked his head lower and stepped into the building, we saw his face.

  “It was him!” Sam said. “How strange. What is that place anyway?”

  “One way to find out,” I told her. I backed out of the parking spot and drove slowly down the street. Drawing close to the building I peered at the sign in the window.

  “Thai Massage,” Sam read the sign aloud.

  “Yeah, but the sign isn’t lit and the door says ‘closed’ on it,” I shook my head. “What in the world would Landon….” I broke off as bits and pieces of information from Breaking Chains pamphlets flitted to the forefront of my mind. The closed sign. The ATM at the corner of the building. The out-of-the-way location.

  “Piper, you don’t think…did Landon just go into a brothel?” Sam looked at me, wide eyes mirroring my own crazy thoughts.

  “I don’t know,” I said while eyeballing my rearview mirror. “Right now, it doesn’t matter. If we don’t get out of here, we are going to have company.”

  Sam turned in her seat and saw what I was seeing: two men stumbling out of an alley on the opposite side of the road. Both had shaved heads and tattoos running up their arms. That wasn’t what made Samantha gulp or had me speeding back toward a well-lit part of town. Nope, that had nothing to do with the tough-guy look and everything to do with the butt of a pistol we could see sticking out of the front of the pants of one and the beers they were both chugging like water. The time had come for us to leave.

  Chapter 11

  Landon looked over his shoulder one last time before dismissing the feeling of being watched.

  “Hey Sugar,” the voice said, small and sweet as honey, as the door in front of him opened and drew his attention. The tiny, dark-haired woman reached out one hand and tugged at his shirt, a long pink fingernail raking his chest along the way. “Come on in,” she winked, “you look like you need to relax.”

  “Actually,” Landon spoke low. “I was hoping we could talk?”

  The woman opened the door wide and smoke drifted out as Landon entered.

  “Follow me, Sugar. Coco knows just what you need,” she said. Turning with a flourish, she sashayed down the hall in her tall gold stilettos and pink mini-dress never doubting for a moment that the new guy would be right behind her. As she walked, she closed her eyes with a grimace, not realizing the mirrors lining the hall gave the man behind her a clear picture of what she thought about the night ahead of her.

  A short time later, Landon slipped back into the dark parking lot. He glanced around. A few extra cars were in the lot, and two drunk guys walking down the street laughed and shoved each other. He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, no reason for the odd sensation making the hair stand up on the back of his neck. He slid into the driver’s seat of a beat-up sedan and drove away. A final glance in his mirror revealed a flick of the blinds in the front room of the massage parlor he’d just left.

  Chapter 12

  Sam and I slept as good as can be expected in a strange place and after a big dose of adrenaline in the rough part of town. In other words, we barely slept at all. With no regard to our need for rest, the alarm sounded at four in the morning.

  Beep.

  I groaned. Didn’t I shut off the alarm? I thought as I groped for my phone on the floor beside my bunk. Thank goodness Sam and I were the only two sharing this little cabin. It had two sets of bunk beds which meant we were both able to have a bottom bunk. Little else inhabited the small space. No baseboards or trim had been installed; I got the feeling we were tucked away in an unfinished unit. I didn’t mind. It made sense that the members of the wellness retreat should be in the vacation-ready cabins.

  Beep. Beep.

  A text? At this time of day that couldn’t be a good sign. I snatched up the phone and swiped my finger across the screen.

  Sam got up and walked to the small bathroom with half shower, toilet, and sink as I read the message. And groaned again.

  “What’s with you this morning?” Sam asked. “You sound like my grandma and her arthritis with all that moaning and groaning. Who’s that?” she asked the last question pointing her toothbrush at my phone.

  “Gladys,” I said.

  “Ohmygosh!” Sam threw her hands up and yelped around the toothbrush now in her mouth. “Did the bakery burn down? Did the girls not show up? Did Millie flood the dishwasher?” Toothpaste dripped down her chin as she spewed out all of her questions at once.

  “Gladys,” I said again, standing up out of bed and stretching, “texted me to say Griff is already in the bakery parking lot this morning. He wanted to talk to me.”

  “Oh. Okay,” Sam went back in the bathroom to rinse her mouth and wash her face.

  I waited. Sure enough, it didn’t take long.

  “Hey!” she popped her head back into the main room. “Why in the world is Griff at the bakery at four a.m.? Why didn’t he text you?”

  “I might have temporarily blocked his number after the incident yesterday,” I said using air quotes.

  Sam stared for a millisecond and then laughed. “Of course. I should have known.”

  “This weekend I’m just going to concentrate on baking and encouraging these amazing people who are here for a well-earned retreat.”

  “Fine,” Sam shrugged. “I’m done in here, your turn.”

  By five-thirty, we had all of the scones baked and lined up on a short buffet table. I finished mixing the pancake batter and separated it into five medium mixing bowls. That would make it easier to add in items and be able to do many flavored pancakes at once, without having to make new batter for every time someone ordered a different flavor. Sam had just finished placing the last blueberry on one of two beautiful fresh fruit tarts.

  The kitchen only took up half of the Dining cabin. The other half was one large room decorated with Southern Cattails, starfish, and driftwood. Even the tables themselves were constructed from massive driftwood pieces and weathered tree trunks that were fit together to create individual pieces of art. Each table was topped with a slab of glass, to protect the wood and provide a flat surface for eating while maintaining the natural beauty of the structure. The walls of the room were painted a natural, light sand color, the perfect backdrop to give the understated décor the spotlight.

  Two big cased openings, similar to the windows for a concession stand at a ballpark, allowed sounds to filter through to the kitchen. One opening had a wide sill. On it sat stacks of light blue plates and cups of plastic silverware.

  Tap. Tap. Tap.

  Sam and I turned at the sound of light tapping to find three people standing at the serving window.

  “Good morning,” the man in the front waved. “I hope we aren’t too early.”

  “Not at all,” Sam smiled
and stepped to the opening. We had already decided she, being the more personable of us both, would take orders and I would handle the pancake griddle. “I need just one moment to get these tarts situated on the buffet, but you can pick out your Personal Pancake Platter flavors in the meantime.” She placed a small chalkboard sign on the sill and hurried out of the kitchen with the Blueberry Banana Tart and the Strawberry Kiwi Tart balancing in her hands.

  “What can I get for you?” Sam returned in seconds.

  “I’ll have the Dark Chocolate Chip Pancakes,” the second person in line, a tall woman with hair in a severe bun, piped up.

  “Can’t resist chocolate can you, Regina?” the man in front of her teased. “Blueberry for me,” he ordered.

  “A plain pancake please,” the last in line, a short, round man with a jolly face smiled.

  Expecting many more Blueberry Pancake orders for the day, I dumped a carton of blueberries into one mixing bowl and stirred. After ladling six of those onto the griddle, I made a few more pancake circles, this time tossing the dark chocolate chips in after. I wouldn’t add them to an entire bowl of batter just yet; I knew not everyone enjoyed dark chocolate’s bitter notes.

  Sam passed platters of pancakes through the opening as I handed them to her. “Don’t forget your fork,” she said, holding the cup of silverware toward the happy breakfasters.

  “Maybe we should have put silverware on the table,” I said.

  “I’m just glad this place had silverware,” Sam said. “I never would have thought to buy any; our usual cookies and pastries don’t require any.”

  The breakfast crowd came in clusters, most likely groups that had bunked in the same cabin or friends who decided the night before to meet up for breakfast. There were very few lulls. It seemed from conversations we overheard that the wellness retreat would be a combination of relaxing activities, reflection, and team building skills

  “Sam,” I called after a few minutes of inactivity, “do you think I need to make more batter or is that about it for people?”

  “How much do you have left?” she asked leaning through the opening to look to the door.

  I scraped the side of the bowl to get the last of the milk chocolate chip batter out and surveyed the others before answering. “Probably enough for four or five pancakes, provided they don’t choose sprinkles or dark chocolate as flavors.”

  Sam let out a gasp and I looked up to see her staring toward the entrance.

  “Don’t tell me, twenty more appetites just walked in?” I guessed.

  “No. Just one. I don’t know what kind of appetite he has though,” she mumbled, stepping away from the window.

  “What do you mean?” My forehead crinkled in confusion.

  “Good morning!” a voice exclaimed. “Piper, Sam, how are you? Something smells delicious and I’m starved.”

  I stared as Landon walked up, hands in his pockets, with wind-tousled hair and a big smile. Another surprise appearance? What is he doing here? I wondered.

  Finally, I found words. “Good morning,” I returned. “You can have the last stack of Chocolate Chip Pancakes,” I told him as I flipped one over on the griddle.

  “I must be one lucky man,” he grinned.

  “Why are you here?” I couldn’t resist asking. It just seemed too strange.

  “What do you mean? I called you earlier and told you I got reassigned and would see you this weekend, remember?”

  The garbled staticky phone call! “We had a horrible connection. I didn’t hear anything you said.” I explained to Landon.

  Just then, a voice in the dining hall called out for Landon.

  “Sorry, gotta go,” he said.

  I stared at the plate of pancakes and shook my head – having my friend Landon back in my life might be more frustrating than fun.

  Landon pulled his hands free to hug a few people that he seemed to know and I saw a small black object fall from his pocket. I waited for him to notice, to pick it up, but when he didn’t, I handed the spatula to Sam and walked into the main dining room.

  Before I took more than a few steps, the little round man from the first line this morning clapped his hands for attention at the front of the dining area. Everyone quieted.

  “Let us bow in prayer and ask the Lord’s blessing and restoration for our weekend before we begin our recreation activities,” he said.

  I bowed and stood still, along with everyone else. I listened as he prayed for rest, for peace in knowing they were bringing help daily to victims of human trafficking, and for wisdom to get many out safely.

  “Now, Father,” he prayed, “help this weekend bring refreshment and closer bonds to each of our teammates and keep us safe during all of our activities. Thank you for this beautiful, peaceful place to enjoy your creation. Amen.”

  “Amen,” voices echoed.

  Everyone that was finished eating stood to leave and the crowd surged toward the door. I was forced to back up out of the way until they passed. The room emptied faster than I would have expected and Landon was not among the stragglers. I peered around the floor in the last spot I’d seen him. Sure enough, after a moment I found a small black object wedged against a table leg. Picking it up I was surprised to discover it was a tube of lipstick.

  “I guess we need to clean up this mess?” Sam asked, gesturing to the plates and cups stacked all over the tables as she joined me. “What do you have there?”

  “Landon dropped something out of his pocket. I swear he was in this area, but the only thing I’ve found is this lipstick.”

  “That doesn’t make sense. What’s that sticker on the side?”

  “A 1-800 number…”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah. I don’t know what to think about any of this. Why is he here? Why would he go in that massage parlor so late last night? Is that where the lipstick came from?” I shook my head. Too many questions, too few answers.

  Sam’s phone rang just then and I shoved the lipstick into the side pocket of my cargo pants. Sam looked at the screen and lifted it to show me, raising her eyebrows. The caller idea said Griff.

  “Don’t tell me,” I said.

  “Yep. My brother’s been texting me asking why you aren’t answering him. Now he’s calling. You really should talk to him, Piper. That’s the only way to figure things out.”

  “I know. I will.” I plucked up several dishes to haul to the sink.

  “When?” she pushed.

  “When I have time,” I hedged.

  The door opened from outside and Roy stuck his head inside.

  “Hey, Roy,” I waved. “Did you want some leftover pancakes or scones?”

  “Well, I don’t reckon I know what a scone is. Pancakes sound mighty fine, though.” He nodded. “I came to tell you girls not to worry about cleaning up. My wife is the caretaker and will be in shortly with a few girls to clean before the company bringing in lunch gets here.”

  “Thanks, Roy,” I said. “I’ll get you a box of pancakes if you’ll give me just a second.”

  I heard the door again as I plopped pancakes into a carry-out container.

  “Hi, Sam,” I heard Landon say before I saw him. “Hey, Piper. Sorry I didn’t get to eat those pancakes. I came in to tell you that we could use another player for volleyball; we’re one short.”

  “I’ll go,” Sam spoke up and I looked at her in surprise. She met my eyes and continued, “Piper just told me she had to go make a very important phone call, otherwise I’m sure she would have loved to play.”

  I shot her a dirty look. She knew full well I didn’t want to call Griff, yet here she was making sure I had privacy and free time to make it happen.

  “Great,” Landon said. “Let’s go before they start without us.”

  “Here you go, Roy.” He thanked me for the pancakes and returned to his golf cart.

  Chapter 13

  I walked down the cabin steps and stopped. The Dining cabin stood in the center of the many smaller guest cabins. The cabin Sam a
nd I bunked in couldn’t even be seen from here; it sat furthest from the ocean. I didn’t really want to go all the way back there to call Griff. I meandered down the trails between cabins to the shoreline. A rowdy volleyball game could be seen in the sand a few yards to my left. To the right, other than a smattering of people in lounge chairs, the beach exuded quiet and calm. I turned to the right.

  What am I going to say to Griff? What about the woman he took to lunch?

  Dropping down to sit, far away from the few people on this stretch of sand, I hugged my knees and watched the waves. In. Out. Roaring up. Crashing down. I watched as the breathtaking display mimicked my thoughts, my hopes. For a place where I found such peace, the ocean definitely displayed chaos of its own.

  Pulling my phone from my pants pocket, I unblocked Griff’s number. Message notifications starting popping up like popcorn. I scrolled to the top of the list. Eight from Griff. Two from my mother. One from Gladys.

  I opened the one from Gladys first and read the single line,

  Gladys: Don’t worry, everything is fine.

  Great. I hadn’t been worried, now I wondered if I should be.

  Next came mom’s messages.

  Mom: Got your message. Have fun on catering job. Love you.

  Mom: Don’t get kidnapped.

  Ha, hilarious Mom, I thought, rolling my eyes. I would text her back later. Now on to Griff. I took a deep breath.

  Griff: Piper, I’m sorry I had to go out of town. I still want to talk.

  Griff: Can we do dinner?

  Griff: I really hope we can talk. Are you mad at me?

  Griff: Gladys is at the bakery. Are you okay? Is Sam okay? Where are y’all?

  Griff: I responded to the fire call at the bakery, don’t worry – everything is fine.

  Griff: Please call. I miss you.

  My heart skipped a beat. A fire! That’s it. I dialed and listened to the phone ring.

  “Hello?”

  “Gladys,” I said, “What is going on, is everyone okay? There was a fire?”

  “No. There was no fire,” Gladys said. “I texted you and told you everything is fine. Who said anything about a fire?”